Cheng Yunxiang paused for a moment before recalling the distant figure she had glimpsed that day at the palace gates. She thought to herself: I don’t even know him, so why has he suddenly come to visit?
“He… is he wearing official robes or casual clothes?” she asked. Could it be that he intended to discuss matters like the security around Ganquan Temple?
Suli replied, “Casual clothes.”
So he hadn’t come in his capacity as Commander of the Imperial Guard. That meant it was a private matter. But what private matter could there possibly be between them?
“My lady has never had dealings with him,” Suli said uneasily. “Why not decline to see him? With your status, you shouldn’t meet people so casually.”
Yet curiosity got the better of her. After a moment of thought, Cheng Yunxiang said, “Invite Lord Fu to sit in the hanging-flower hall. I’ll come shortly.”
She quickly washed her face, smoothed her hair, and adjusted her brand-new Daoist robe before heading over. When Fu Xian heard her approaching, he stood up. As she entered, he raised his sleeve in greeting. “I am Fu Xian. My apologies for the intrusion.”
Cheng Yunxiang gave him a brief appraisal. He wore a dark cyan arrow-sleeved robe, his figure tall and straight, his skin smooth as jade and his eyes like painted lacquer. By looks alone, he truly deserved the description of a finely carved gentleman. He was strikingly handsome.
“I’ve long heard of Lord Fu’s reputation. Please, have a seat,” she said after returning the greeting. “May I ask what brings you here?”
Seeing him glance at Suli, Cheng Yunxiang gave her a look, signaling her to withdraw. Suli had no choice but to retreat outside, her heart tense as she listened for any movement within.
Once they were seated, Fu Xian lowered his gaze, then raised his sleeve again in a formal gesture. Without beating around the bush, he said, “I wonder if Daoist Cheng has heard that Gao Yao, the envoy from Beicang, has come this time seeking the regional maps of Huainan and Jiangdong?”
His tone was calm and unrestrained.
“I haven’t heard,” Cheng Yunxiang answered truthfully, though inwardly she felt annoyed. Beicang is asking for quite a lot this time. Money, women… and now even maps?
To demand maps was practically declaring: I intend to annex you and make you part of my territory.
Then she paused. What did this have to do with her? Why had Fu Xian come all this way just to tell her this?
In the next instant, Fu Xian explained his purpose. “I wish to ask Daoist Cheng to persuade His Majesty not to give the maps of Later Yue to Beicang…” He seemed to feel that such a request was too abrupt, so his voice softened. “Would Daoist Cheng be willing to help with this? I will offer a generous reward.”
Cheng Yunxiang: “…”
Lord Fu, isn’t it rather presumptuous to make such a request on our first meeting? If not for his pleasing appearance, shallow as she was, she would have already shown him the door.
Suppressing her reaction, she asked, “Why do you wish to stop this matter? Are there not officials in court who can remonstrate?” She didn’t know the full situation, so she needed a convincing reason.
Fu Xian rose and stepped closer, lowering his voice further. “After Later Sui surrendered, the Emperor of Beicang treated them well. The officials of Later Yue may follow that precedent and not care whether the state falls or not.” He paused before continuing, “But you and I are different. If the maps are handed over, then the terrain of all thirty-two prefectures, the deployment of troops, and population data will all be laid bare. If war breaks out in the future…”
He didn’t finish, but the implication was clear. Beicang would know Later Yue inside and out, and conquering it would be as easy as reaching into a bag.
His unfinished words had already convinced Cheng Yunxiang. She looked at him deeply, a fine sheen of cold sweat forming on her forehead. These maps, containing terrain, population, and military details, were state secrets. Beicang’s request meant they were preparing for a full-scale invasion.
Later Yue was in grave danger.
She wished she could rush into the palace at once and stop Song Yu, even at the cost of her life.
But outwardly, she remained composed. “I don’t fully understand what Lord Fu has said, but since you have asked, I am willing to help and try to persuade His Majesty.”
He’s young, yet meticulous and far-sighted. He has potential. It wouldn’t hurt to do him this favor. Perhaps he could be of use to my elder sister in the future. After all, being in Consort Chen’s position without strong allies is untenable.
The thought startled her. Cheng Ping had always said that the Cheng family’s foundation was weak, and that they needed alliances with powerful clans to strengthen their position. He had often kept an eye out for suitable young men from noble families for her…
She had once scoffed at the idea, yet now she found herself thinking along those lines. Only, instead of aristocratic clans, she had set her sights on Fu Xian.
Meanwhile, Fu Xian was thinking much the same. This woman relies on Consort Chen and has the advantage of entering the palace to see the emperor at any time. If she could be used…
In that moment, both saw in each other the word “useful.”
“The Ministry of Revenue said in court today that the maps will be compiled within a day or two,” he said, his gaze deep. “Please act as soon as possible.”
Cheng Yunxiang nodded.
“I feel deeply apologetic for troubling Daoist Cheng when we are strangers,” Fu Xian said. “So I have prepared a small gift. I hope you will accept it.”
Cheng Yunxiang initially intended to refuse, but curiosity made her glance outside. At the gate of Lianyuan stood a chubby child of six or seven, with a small tuft of hair on top of his head and two horn-like side locks tied with pale blue ribbons. His round face, bright eyes, and fair skin made him irresistibly adorable.
The image of a “topknot child” came to life.
He carried a purple sandalwood box in both hands. Walking in, he handed it to Fu Xian, then bowed politely to Cheng Yunxiang. “Xiao Jiu greets Daoist Cheng.”
Cheng Yunxiang smiled. “Your name is Xiao Jiu?” She almost called for Suli to bring him something to eat, but stopped herself, feeling it might be too much.
When the box was opened, golden light dazzled her eyes.
Inside were two gold ingots, a pair of jade ruyi, two famous calligraphy and paintings from the Northern and Southern Dynasties, a Kunlun snow lotus, and a bottle of snow toad extract.
Cheng Yunxiang was momentarily stunned. The items themselves were ordinary, but presented in such a grand manner that, if one didn’t know better, one might think this was a betrothal gift.
Fu Xian, seeing her hesitation, said sincerely, “Some were bestowed upon my family by the late emperor, others are heirlooms. All are of legitimate origin. If Daoist Cheng finds them acceptable, please take them.”
Oh, he’s quite worldly after all.
Cheng Yunxiang closed the box and said, “This matter concerns the safety of the state. Since it is public business, if I accept your gift, would that not imply improper dealings between us? That would be inappropriate.”
She refused.
Her reasoning was smooth and flawless, leaving no room for rebuttal. Fu Xian was briefly taken aback, then regarded her more highly. “Then I will remember this favor.”
Cheng Yunxiang almost joked about how he would repay her in the future, but decided against it. Instead, she said seriously, “You overpraise me. I will prepare and go to the palace shortly.”
With that, Fu Xian took his leave.
“Who is Xiao Jiu to Lord Fu?” Suli asked eagerly once they returned inside.
The child was simply too adorable.
Cheng Yunxiang shook her head. “I don’t know. Perhaps a servant.”
“He’s too young,” Suli said with pity. “Can he even serve anyone? Poor thing.”
“If you’re so curious,” Cheng Yunxiang teased, tapping her forehead, “why not ask Lord Fu yourself next time?”
Suli blushed. “As if I’d dare.”
“Go get ready,” Cheng Yunxiang said seriously. “We’re going to the palace.”
The matter of the maps was of utmost importance. She had to stop it, no matter what.
But how could she phrase it so that the emperor would listen?
She racked her brain, piecing together a rather dry argument. If only she could borrow the eloquence of Su Qin or Zhang Yi. Well, she would have to improvise when the time came.
By evening, she entered the palace. The pebble path was clean and smooth, scattered with rain and fallen petals. At Jiaofang Palace, there was no music as usual, only silence.
“Her Highness has been thinking of you all day,” Kong Yu greeted her. “Are you well?”
“All is well today,” Cheng Yunxiang replied as she followed her in. “What is my sister doing?”
“Her Highness didn’t sleep last night,” Kong Yu said with a frown. “She complained of chest discomfort today. The imperial physician came to administer acupuncture, and she is now resting.”
Cheng Yunxiang quickened her steps. In the bedchamber, she saw Cheng Zhixiang pale-faced, reclining on a couch as maids fed her medicine.
At the sight of her, Cheng Zhixiang’s face lit up. “Yunniang, come sit by me. Are you comfortable at Lianyuan?”
Cheng Yunxiang washed her hands and sat beside her. “I’m doing well. Why are you ill?”
“Does the medicine taste good?” she teased, pretending to take a sip.
Cheng Zhixiang laughed. “How greedy you are. Medicine is bitter.”
As they chatted, dusk fell. Cheng Zhixiang ordered food to be brought in, along with a jar of peach blossom wine.
“Is His Majesty not dining here tonight?” Cheng Yunxiang asked.
“He hasn’t come yet,” Cheng Zhixiang said. “Perhaps he won’t.”
Four dishes were served, along with soup and pastries.
Cheng Yunxiang smiled. “You loved these dishes at home. Your tastes haven’t changed.”
“I don’t like the Eight-Treasure Duck anymore. That one’s yours,” Cheng Zhixiang said, pushing the plate toward her.
Cheng Yunxiang ate heartily, ignoring the wine. She had business to attend to and couldn’t afford to drink.
Seeing her appetite, Cheng Zhixiang also ate more than usual, to the delight of the maids.
After the meal, they joked and played, Cheng Zhixiang’s complexion growing rosier.
“Yunniang is here?” A tired, hoarse voice sounded from outside.
“His Majesty has arrived,” Cheng Zhixiang said, hurrying out to greet him.
Soon, Song Yu entered with her. Cheng Yunxiang bowed. “Greetings, Your Majesty.”
“Are you adjusting well at Ganquan Temple?” he asked warmly.
“I’ve adjusted immediately,” she said. “There’s nothing more prestigious than living in the residence you bestowed.”
Song Yu laughed. “Little flatterer.”
When he suggested sharing a drink, she quickly declined. “Your Majesty, I came to discuss something important.”
“Oh?” he said, amused. “What important matter?”
She glanced at the attendants. Cheng Zhixiang dismissed them.
“Your Majesty,” Cheng Yunxiang said solemnly, “I have heard that the Beicang envoy not only came to propose marriage for their third prince, but also seeks the maps of Later Yue’s thirty-two prefectures?”
“Even you’ve heard?” Song Yu nodded. “Yes, they claim the Emperor of Beicang is revising a world atlas and lacks those regions.”
Cheng Yunxiang stood, straightened her robes, and bowed deeply.
“Your Majesty, under no circumstances can those maps be given to them.”