It was the sixth day of the sixth lunar month, and the sun was shining brightly.
The blue-gray bricks in the courtyard had grown scorching hot under the sunlight. The shadows of the trees had shrunk into tiny patches, huddled against the base of the courtyard wall.
The old scent of age had long since faded from the open camphorwood chests. Several maids had taken off their shoes and were kneeling on mats, gathering the books that had been laid out to dry. They carefully placed each volume back into its protective cover before returning it to the book chests.
Just as they were about to get up and carry the chests away, a commotion suddenly broke out beyond the courtyard gate. There were loud cries and wails, and the noise was impossible to ignore.
The maids hurriedly turned to look toward the covered corridor. Beneath its roof, a slender young woman was reclining on a bamboo chair. A book covered her face, and she lay completely still, sound asleep.
Two long ribbons hanging from the layered panels of her skirt swayed gently in the breeze. They resembled aquatic plants floating in water, occasionally curling around the hand resting beside her. Her fair fingers, their tips stained with red nail dye, and the fluttering green ribbons of her clothes were illuminated by the afternoon sunlight, making her look like a figure in a delicate traditional painting.
The young woman was sleeping soundly, but for some reason, the crying outside seemed to ride in on a gust of wind and swirl straight into the courtyard.
The maids hurried forward to stop the intruder, but once the woman entered the courtyard, her crying only grew louder.
At last, she disturbed the young woman who had been enjoying her afternoon nap.
The book covering her face slipped off with a loud smack and fell to the ground.
Still drowsy, the young lady propped herself up and raised her head, looking around in confusion.
The woman who had been wailing with her mouth wide open paused for a moment. Soon, however, she resumed crying. Pushing aside the two maids who were trying to stop her, she knelt at the foot of the steps and pleaded desperately.
“Young Lady Xicai, that wretched boy Qianniu! He had just finished lighting the fire in the tea room when he ran to the front courtyard to move some books. He didn’t realize that a few sparks had become trapped between the pages of his clothes. As a result, he burned an entire chest of our master’s treasured books! The mistress was furious and had him tied up. She’s going to beat him to death! Please, Young Lady, save his life!”
The two maids who had been pushed aside exchanged glances.
Gongxi, the most capable maid serving Xicai, immediately interrupted her.
“If the mistress intends to beat him to death, why aren’t you begging her for mercy? Why have you come here instead?”
Qianniu’s mother rubbed her hands together anxiously.
“Young Lady, you have such a kind heart! We servants often talk about you behind your back. Everyone says you’re a Bodhisattva who has descended into the mortal world to save those who are suffering. Now that my foolish son has committed such a terrible mistake, I know his life is worth very little, but I beg you to consider how young he is. Please speak to the mistress on his behalf and ask her to spare him!”
Another maid, Yuwu, pulled at the woman’s arm with all her strength.
“If he’s committed such a serious offense, he should accept whatever punishment the mistress decides. Do you expect the young lady to go against her own mother?”
The two maids tried to drive the woman out, but Qianniu’s mother refused to give up. She continued to cry and plead.
“Young Lady, everyone knows your virtuous reputation! Your reputation for kindness is known throughout the city!”
The young woman on the corridor looked at the servant woman, whose face was full of misery, and sighed.
“Whether I can save him depends on what kind of books he burned.”
Seeing a glimmer of hope, Qianniu’s mother immediately bowed again and again.
“As long as you agree to intervene, Young Lady, I’m sure everything will be fine!”
Xicai slipped on her shoes. As she walked, she raised her sleeve to cover her mouth and yawned.
She moved unhurriedly along the covered corridor. With every step, the overlapping layers of her skirt shifted gracefully, carrying a faint, elegant fragrance. Her long ribbons fluttered behind her as she entered the front courtyard.
The moment she stepped inside, she saw Qianniu lying on the main hall floor, bound so tightly that he resembled a silkworm trapped inside a cocoon. Only his head and the tips of his feet were visible.
Madam Xi stood nearby, her brows drawn together and her face filled with fury. She ordered the household servants, “Take a carrying pole and beat him! Beat him until he’s dead!”
Seeing a servant raise the pole, Xicai immediately called out, “Wait, Mother!”
She walked forward and said calmly, “The fifteenth is Xitan’s birthday. We shouldn’t take a life during this month.”
Whether killing was forbidden during that month depended on how seriously one observed such taboos.
The Xi family had three children: Xicai, Xixiao, and Xitan.
Xitan had been weak and sickly since childhood. He was also the long-awaited only son, so their parents had been extremely cautious when he was young, afraid that the slightest mistake might bring misfortune upon his fragile life.
Now that he had grown to fourteen and become much stronger, his parents had gradually relaxed their vigilance. If Xicai hadn’t mentioned it, her mother would probably have forgotten that old superstition altogether.
Fortunately, the warning still carried some weight.
Madam Xi hesitated, but when she thought about the burned books, her anger returned.
“Do you know what he burned?” she demanded. “The Record of Famous Stones and Metals of Mount Zhongyue, the Account of Luodu’s Prosperity, and Tales of the Bronze Camels of Old! Every single one was a rare, irreplaceable edition! If I don’t punish him, your father will beat him to death when he returns. Those books could have been passed down through generations. Now they’ve all been destroyed in a single fire! How can I not be heartbroken?”
Hearing this, Xicai felt a sharp pang of sorrow herself. She rubbed her forehead and let out a long sigh.
Ten years earlier, the empire had still been in turmoil. Regional lords had carved up the land, and ambitious warlords had risen everywhere. Battles broke out constantly, leaving countless people dead and turning entire regions into wastelands.
Many precious books and historical records had survived those years of warfare only because countless people had risked their lives to protect them.
Everyone had assumed that, after enduring such a devastating era, these works would finally be safe now that peace had returned.
Who could have imagined that they would ultimately be destroyed in such a foolish and humiliating manner?
It was truly heartbreaking.
But what could they do now? The books had already burned.
Xicai lowered her eyes and looked at the young servant tied up on the floor. She considered the matter as though it were an age-old philosophical dilemma.
“If we beat him to death, the books still won’t come back.”
After all, which was more important: priceless ancient texts or the life of an ordinary household servant?
The books were already gone. If the boy could be allowed to live, at least they would avoid losing another life as well.
Madam Xi gritted her teeth. She looked as though she wanted to drill two holes into Qianniu’s skull herself.
“Beat him first! If he survives, we’ll wait for your father to return before deciding what to do with him.”
She was just about to have the punishment carried out when the master of the household, Xi Jiyuan, entered through the main gate.
His face was dark with anger, and he strode into the courtyard so quickly that the wind seemed to follow his steps.
When he noticed the servant lying on the ground, waiting to be punished, he was already too irritated to ask what had happened. He simply waved his hand impatiently.
“Drag him out. Just drag him out…”
He then turned away, walked over to a couch, and sat down.
For a long while, he said nothing more.
Madam Xi hurried over to him and cautiously asked, “Did something go wrong at court?”
Xi Jiyuan held the position of Censor-in-Chief, responsible for supervising officials and upholding the laws and discipline of the imperial court. Impeaching officials and exposing their misconduct were part of his duties.
Arguing with other officials was also an ordinary occurrence. The only question was whether he had won or lost the argument.
Judging from his expression, he had lost today.
And he had lost badly.
He did not answer.
Seeing his mood, Madam Xi was about to tell her daughter to return to her own courtyard. She wanted to keep the children away in case their father lost his temper and took his frustration out on them.
Before she could speak, however, Xi Jiyuan finally raised his head.
“Call Jiao Jiao over. And bring Sanlang here as well. This matter must be discussed by the entire family.”
Madam Xi’s heart sank.
Something serious had clearly happened.
The Xi family had once been one of the great aristocratic clans of Luodu. However, years of warfare had nearly wiped out their entire family. By now, this branch was practically all that remained.
Therefore, when Xi Jiyuan said that the entire family needed to discuss the matter, everyone had to attend. Even fourteen-year-old Xitan was included.
Before long, Xixiao and Xitan arrived. Neither understood what was happening, and both looked at their father in confusion.
Only then did Xi Jiyuan lift his eyes. He looked from one daughter to the other, studying their faces. Each time he looked at one of them, he let out another sigh.
Xixiao was the second daughter, two years younger than Xicai. The sisters resembled each other in appearance, sharing seven or eight features, but their personalities were completely different.
As Qianniu’s mother had said, Xicai had enjoyed an excellent reputation since childhood.
Great aristocratic families were never short of learned scholars and refined gentlemen who visited as friends. Years ago, the talented scholar Cui Shou had passed through Luodu and stayed at the Xi residence for half a month. During his visit, he composed a poem praising Xicai, describing her as a young woman with bright, graceful features and a character as steadfast as autumn frost.
The reason for such praise was perhaps that, when she had been only eleven or twelve, she had dared to open the family granaries during the years of warfare and take in women and children who had lost their homes.
While other people might have worried about the consequences of helping strangers, Xicai had acted without hesitation.
As for Xixiao, her name originally meant a beautiful, intelligent, and capable woman. However, when it came to Jiao Jiao, it seemed that the feminine radical in her name had somehow disappeared.
Her personality was better represented by the remaining part of the character, which carried a fierce, tiger-like quality.
That did not necessarily mean she was reckless or hot-tempered. She was simply a little impulsive and exceptionally straightforward. She said what she thought and rarely bothered to hide her feelings.
Xi Jiyuan looked at his two daughters, unsure how to begin.
Beside him, Madam Xi grew increasingly anxious. She kept urging him to speak.
“What exactly happened? Why won’t you just tell us?”
The room fell silent. In the stillness, their father’s sigh sounded particularly clear.
After a long time, Xi Jiyuan finally spoke.
“During last month’s Dragon Boat Festival, the imperial palace held a banquet attended by all the civil and military officials. Even the marquises who had been sent away from the capital to govern their own territories returned to attend.
“During the banquet, everyone was drinking. As it happened, the Grand Tutor’s family had recently arranged a marriage alliance with the family of the Minister of Justice. Naturally, the conversation turned to marriage, and people began joking about finding a wife for the Marquis of Yanling.
“After discussing several possibilities, someone brought up our family.
“I have never gotten along with the Marquis of Yanling. Recently, I have even been working with the Right Vice Director and several other officials to have him sent back to his fief. He must resent me even more because of that.
“At the banquet, I was merely trying to keep the conversation pleasant. Without thinking too much about it, I casually replied, ‘It can be considered.’
“I never imagined that today he would ask the Grand Tutor to intervene and hold me to those words. He wants to make good on that supposed agreement and has formally proposed marriage to one of our daughters.”
Everyone froze.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Finally, Madam Xi broke the silence.
“After everything that’s happened between you two, you can hardly stand to be in the same room! The Marquis of Yanling probably wants nothing more than to see you dead. What good intentions could he possibly have in proposing marriage to our family?
“Besides, he’s ill. No matter how wealthy or powerful he may be, he might not live long enough to enjoy any of it. How could we possibly send one of our perfectly healthy daughters to fill the place of a dying man?”
Xitan immediately objected as well.
“He’s obviously trying to take revenge! He wants to hold my elder sister hostage so that he can threaten Father. Then he’ll slowly torment her to death to satisfy his hatred. A man like him is as sinister as a ghost. Father must not agree!”
Everyone turned toward Xi Jiyuan, waiting for him to respond.
Unfortunately, the deep crease between his brows remained.
“Since I already gave an answer in public, it will be difficult to reject the proposal outright. What’s most infuriating is that he has twisted my words. I said it could be considered, but he has interpreted that as permission.
“And by asking the Grand Tutor to come forward, he’s not trying to discuss the matter with us. He’s issuing an order.”
“Then we should make it clear that the master never agreed to the marriage!” Madam Xi said angrily. “Surely he can’t simply come here and snatch our daughter away!
“There are so many unmarried noblewomen in the capital. Plenty of families would be eager to marry their daughters to a man of his position. Why must he insist on choosing one of ours? What exactly is he planning?”
After thinking for a moment, she added, “What about the Grand Tutor? What did he say? He and the master have always stood on the same side. Surely he’ll consider our situation and help us find a way out.”
At the mention of the Grand Tutor, Xi Jiyuan’s expression became even more troubled.
“The Grand Tutor’s suggestion was that we might as well go along with the situation.”
Those few words were enough to make everyone in the Xi family understand what was happening.
Going along with the situation was merely the beginning. What lay ahead was a political battle without swords or smoke, a struggle in which every move could determine the fate of the family.
To understand why the Marquis of Yanling was such a formidable figure, one had to look at his background.
The founding emperor, Taizu, had joined the military at the age of twenty-five. He spent the next thirty years fighting on the battlefield, leading his sons and nephews in the campaigns that brought Hedong, Hebei, and Guanzhong under their control.
He had come within a single step of claiming the imperial throne when he died of illness in his military camp.
After his death, his sons inherited his ambitions and continued his work. They destroyed the Former Yong regime, pacified Hexi, conquered Bashu, and supported their eldest brother, Yang Ao, in ascending the throne.
Thus, the Great Sheng dynasty was established.
Yang Ao ruled for seven years. During his reign, he introduced the imperial examination system, opened routes to the Western Regions, and gave the people time to recover from years of warfare. As the country gradually stabilized, the imperial treasury began to fill.
However, if there was one thing he had handled poorly, it was his treatment of his own brothers.
Of Taizu’s nine sons, who had once fought side by side and risked their lives for the empire, only six survived. Yet none of them was granted the title of prince during the reign of Taizong, Yang Ao’s successor.
It was not until the current emperor ascended the throne that the imperial family began granting princely titles to the surviving uncles according to seniority.
Traditionally, once a member of the imperial family was made a prince, he would be sent to govern his own fief. This was an established custom.
But when it came to the Marquis of Yanling, the emperor and his ministers found themselves in a difficult position.
He was Taizu’s youngest son, yet among all his brothers, he was arguably the most talented and capable.
Before Taizong died, he had personally entrusted him with the responsibility of assisting in the governance of the empire.
The current emperor was wary of him, but he could not easily do without his help.
Such an arrangement was dangerous for the imperial court.
History had repeatedly shown that dynasties could lose their power overnight when authority became concentrated in the wrong hands. The current situation was precisely the sort that could lead to a struggle for the throne.
The elder statesmen were determined to protect the emperor’s authority. They believed that granting the Marquis of Yanling a princely title and sending him to his fief in Yanling as soon as possible would remove a major threat from the capital.
However, when the marquis learned of their plans, he forced himself to rise from his sickbed and entered the palace to meet the emperor personally.
After that meeting, the matter of granting him a princely title was indefinitely postponed.
The Right Vice Director and the other officials who supported sending him away grew increasingly anxious. The emperor, however, could not bring himself to make a final decision.
Before long, their disagreement developed into a full-blown political factional struggle.
And factional struggles in the imperial court were matters of life and death.
Either you died, or your opponent did.
If death was inevitable, it was better to strike first than wait to be destroyed.
The empire had endured far too many years of chaos. Now that peace had finally been established, anyone with a conscience felt a powerful sense of duty to protect it, even at the cost of their own life.
After listening to her father’s explanation, Xixiao let out a long breath.
Then she looked at him and said, “I’m seventeen now, old enough to marry. I’ll go.”
Xicai had already made up her mind as well. She spoke calmly.
“This has nothing to do with you. I’ll go instead.”
Xixiao immediately shook her head.
“No! Elder Sister, you’re kind and virtuous. I’m not like you. I’m ruthless, and I’ll do whatever it takes. There’s nothing I wouldn’t dare to do.”
Xicai couldn’t help laughing.
“The Marquis wants a wife he can control easily. If he knows you’ll shout at him and threaten to fight him every day, do you really think he’ll agree to let you into his household?”
In truth, Cui Shou’s poem had already hinted at the course of Xicai’s life.
The line ‘A maiden bears a fragrance all her own, fit to be matched with a marquis or a king’ had been repeated so widely that almost everyone who had heard it knew the verse by heart.
The Marquis of Yanling’s chosen bride was almost certainly going to be the eldest daughter of the Xi family.
Everyone fell silent and turned to look at Xicai.
She simply stood there, yet she possessed a natural dignity and grace that made it difficult for anyone to look directly at her for too long.
There was something about her face and bearing that made whatever she did seem entirely justified. Even if she married a frail, sickly man like the Marquis of Yanling, she would surely continue to shine.
Xitan’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“If only I’d been born a girl! I would want to make a contribution to the peace and stability of Great Sheng, too.”
Xixiao shot him a look.
“Stop making trouble. Even if you had been born a girl, you’d still be only fourteen. The marquis wouldn’t want you.”
Madam Xi, meanwhile, could hardly bear the thought of losing her daughter to such a dangerous marriage. Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“Titi, if you don’t want to do this, let your father think of another solution. Perhaps there’s still a way out.”
But that was only a wishful hope.
Now that the Marquis of Yanling had begun moving forward with the proposal, he must already have made careful arrangements. There was little chance that he would allow the Xi family to withdraw so easily.
Xi Jiyuan understood that the road ahead would be extremely difficult.
Although the Marquis of Yanling was now weakened by illness, he had once commanded armies on the battlefield and won victories through his strategic brilliance. His ambition would not disappear simply because his body had grown frail.
One only had to recall the sudden gleam in his eyes whenever news arrived that the Qiang people were threatening the border to understand that his fighting spirit remained very much alive.
Looking at his daughter, Xi Jiyuan felt a deep ache in his heart.
She was a young woman who should have been able to live a peaceful life, yet she was about to be dragged into a dangerous political struggle. It was like throwing a rare, irreplaceable book into a blazing fire.
And yet, there was no way out.
Who could have imagined that a casual remark made in jest would lead to such serious consequences?
Xi Jiyuan looked at his daughter with guilt and regret.
“This is all your father’s fault. I should have thought more carefully before speaking. I’ve put you in an unfair position, and I’m sorry.
“But there’s one thing you must always remember. No matter whose wife you become or whose mother you may one day be, you will always be a daughter of the Xi family.
“Nothing about your husband’s family, whether it prospers or falls into ruin, will ever change that.”
Xicai nodded.
She couldn’t help thinking that plans never seemed to keep up with unexpected changes.
She had originally come out to save a servant’s life. How had things taken such a dramatic turn in the blink of an eye that she was now preparing to get married instead?
When she left the main hall, she saw Qianniu lying across the railing of the covered corridor like a sack, his body suspended awkwardly with neither end touching the ground.
His mother stood nearby, staring at Xicai with pleading eyes.
Xicai sighed.
“Untie that boy and let him go. From now on, he can drive my carriage.”
Qianniu’s mother was overwhelmed with gratitude. She bowed repeatedly, thanking Xicai again and again.
Xicai merely turned her gaze away and continued walking without responding.
She followed the corridor toward her courtyard. A breeze blew from behind, sending the ribbons on her skirt fluttering wildly. The thin upper layer of her robe clung to her body, outlining her tall, slender figure.
Yet she continued at the same leisurely pace, gently waving the feather fan in her hand. The breeze created by her fan was immediately scattered by the wind, but her thoughts remained steady.
The Marquis of Yanling might indeed be difficult to deal with.
Still, if she were to live under the same roof as him and see him every day, she would eventually find an opportunity.
Once she accomplished what she had set out to do, she could take his wealth, find herself another suitable husband, and begin her life anew.
There was still time to start over.