Meanwhile, Cheng Yunxiang was pondering how she should properly thank Fu Xian. The next day, to her surprise, Xiao Jiu from Fu Xian’s household arrived at her door carrying seasonal fruit. “My lord asked me to come check on you, Daoist, to see if you’ve fully recovered.”
Cheng Yunxiang was very fond of the round-headed little Xiao Jiu and smiled. “I’m well, completely recovered. I was just thinking about how to thank your Lord Fu.” She quickly had a maid bring him some pastries. “Oh right, last time I mistakenly took your lord’s sachet. Yesterday I bought a new one to apologize. Could you take it back to him for me?”
Xiao Jiu said, “My lord brought quite a few back from Xiangyang, Daoist, so there’s no need to trouble yourself.”
Cheng Yunxiang fell silent. So he did not want something bought outside. It seemed that fellow Fu Xian was quite particular.
The next day, the little fellow came again, this time holding a roast chicken, saying it was for Cheng Yunxiang. She did not like eating it, but not wanting to hurt Xiao Jiu’s feelings, she tore off a leg and began to eat. “When you’re older, I’ll treat you to the peach blossom wine I’ve hidden away.”
Sigh. It had been quite some time since she had the chance to drink her fill of peach blossom wine.
After that, she spent several days shut in her room gnawing through books. Aside from recognizing a few obscure characters, she gained nothing.
“What use is reading all this,” she muttered to herself. “If the court is to survive, it relies on truly brilliant ministers…” Someone like Xie Xuan, capable of turning the tide with both strategy and martial prowess. She was not that kind of person.
Wrong. The direction of effort was wrong. The correct approach was to find people, capable ministers, godlike ministers.
Suli and Hua Ying overheard this and immediately grew nervous again. The young lady was acting strange once more. What kind of evil spirit was so powerful that even Taoist talismans could not drive it away?
Cheng Yunxiang had heard that the great scholar Fan Dun of Lin’an had countless disciples, and perhaps among them there might be the talent she sought. She decided to go fishing for one and called her maid. “Suli, take my visiting card to Master Fan’s residence and say I wish to pay him a visit.”
At the same time, she planned to prepare a generous gift for her target, a great talent. The moment she found one, she would present it and win him over. She remembered that her family owned a Duan inkstone called the Seven Lights Inkstone, refined as jade and resonant as gold, engraved with calligraphy and painted by Xie Lingyun, the founding figure of the landscape poetry school. Someone had once offered a hundred taels of gold for it, and Cheng Ping had refused to sell it. She set her sights on that inkstone.
When Suli learned of her plan, she tried to persuade her. “Miss, the Seven Lights Inkstone is far too precious. It was a gift from His Majesty to the Marquis on the day he won Madam’s hand. There may not be another like it even in the imperial treasury.”
She feared Cheng Ping would not agree.
“Of course Father won’t agree,” Cheng Yunxiang said, blinking as she pulled Suli and Hua Ying close and whispered her plan. “We’ll do it this way.”
Naturally, they would not tell anyone they intended to steal it. After all, the inkstone was kept in storage. Cheng Ping did not use it, so its disappearance would not be noticed anytime soon.
“Miss…” Suli and Hua Ying dared not assist in such thievery.
Cheng Yunxiang placed one hand on her hip, righteous and unyielding. “Taking something from my own home does not count as stealing.”
“It’s meant to be passed down to the young masters in the future,” Suli said softly.
“Hmph.” Cheng Yunxiang snorted. Why should her father’s things go to his sons and not his daughters? She wanted it now.
The two maids thought, She’s gone mad. This possession has gone too deep.
Yet under her “tyranny,” they had no choice but to roll up their sleeves. “Tonight we will definitely steal… ah, no, take it out for you, Miss.”
Cheng Yunxiang smiled slyly.
After settling the matter, they returned together to the Cheng residence.
From the study came the sound of loud recitation. The two Cheng sons were studying. They had not gone out to mix with the idle youths of Lin’an. Though they lacked natural talent, they were willing to immerse themselves in their studies, and that alone was enough to comfort Cheng Yunxiang.
Cheng Ping had not yet returned home. At dinnertime in the east wing, Chen Baomiao said, “If Yunniang were home, it wouldn’t feel so empty between us.” Hanxiang had gone to the palace to accompany Consort Chen, and Liniang was unwell, leaving only the two of them, mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, to dine together.
Just then, Axi came in cheerfully. “Old Madam, Madam, the Daoist has come home.”
Old Madam Cheng stretched her neck like a child. “Quick, call her here.”
Cheng Yunxiang had originally intended to go to Chen Baomiao’s courtyard, but Zhuru intercepted her. “Madam is with the Old Madam. Yunniang, come with me.”
Cheng Yunxiang shot a look at her two maids, and they quickly said, “We’ll go tidy up some winter clothes for Miss.” Master and servants split up. Cheng Yunxiang went to the Old Madam, and grandmother and granddaughter delighted in each other’s company. They even called over the household matrons and maids to join them, setting up a feast. Some played cards, others drank together. It had been a long time since there was such merriment.
After several rounds of wine, when the mood began to wane, Suli came over holding a silver fox fur jacket. “Miss has been thinking about this garment, hasn’t she? I’ve finally found it.”
Cheng Yunxiang knew she had succeeded. Glancing outside at the ink-dark night, she smiled. “Grandmother, I’ll be heading back now. I’ll come visit you again another day.”
Though reluctant, seeing it was nearly the end of the second watch, the Old Madam said, “Zhuru, take a few people to escort Yunniang.”
“No need, Grandmother,” Cheng Yunxiang said. “The Imperial Guard are outside. It’s perfectly safe.”
Only then did the Old Madam let her leave with Suli and Hua Ying.
After leaving the Cheng residence and walking a short distance, Hua Ying eagerly pointed beneath her cloak. “We got it out.”
Cheng Yunxiang’s eyes sparkled like stars. “Pick an auspicious day. We’ll visit Master Fan’s residence…”
Suli committed everything to memory. “Strange, why didn’t we see Miss Hanxiang at home today?”
“Now that you mention it…” Cheng Yunxiang said. She had not noticed either.
The nineteenth day of the fourth month was an auspicious date.
That morning, after rising, Cheng Yunxiang stood in the stone pavilion, gazing at the imperial palace across the way with its double-eaved roofs and yellow glazed tiles. Taking a deep breath, she encouraged herself. Today, you will definitely catch a big fish.
A few days earlier, she had sent her visiting card to Fan Dun’s residence, and he had personally replied, inviting her to choose a day to visit.
After admiring the view for the time it took an incense stick to burn, she returned to her room, changed into a moon-white round-collared robe, and carefully arranged her hair without a strand out of place. She even practiced the formal greeting used among scholars of the court several times in front of a bronze mirror. Only after mastering it did she leave with her maids and head straight for the Fan residence.
Fan Dun was from the same clan as the current Left Chancellor Fan Ying, though he had never entered official service, dedicating his life to scholarship instead. At the entrance of the Fan residence, a young servant stood idly shifting about with his hands tucked in his sleeves.
Cheng Yunxiang stepped forward. “Young man, I have come to request an audience with Master Fan. Please inform him for me.” She slipped him a handful of copper coins.
The servant thanked her and ran off to deliver the message, returning as swiftly as a bird. “Daoist Cheng, please come in.”
Fan Dun was already waiting in the reception hall. Nearly fifty, with a lean and refined face, he wore a scholar’s cap with trailing ribbons and a cross-collared robe. A few strands of long beard framed his angular lips, giving him an elegant, scholarly air.
After entering, Cheng Yunxiang performed a proper greeting. “Master Fan.”
Fan Dun glanced at her, rose, and returned the courtesy. “Please, sit.” He had a book attendant bring her a stool.
Only after bowing again did Cheng Yunxiang take her seat.
Fan Dun asked, “For what matter has Daoist Cheng come to my humble residence?”
“Master,” Cheng Yunxiang said frankly, “under the pressure of the neighboring state Beicang, how much national fortune remains for Later Yue?”
Fan Dun’s expression changed slightly. He had not expected such a question. After studying her intently for a moment, he sighed. “It is nearing its end.”
On the brink of collapse.
Cheng Yunxiang was stunned. She had not expected him to speak such truth, yet such treasonous truth. After a long pause, she asked, “Is there still hope?”
“Unless Xie Xuan returns to life,” Fan Dun said without much expectation, “or Guo Ziyi is reborn… otherwise, it will be difficult.”
Unwilling to give up, Cheng Yunxiang pressed on. “Then among your many students, is there no such person?”
“Among my students,” Fan Dun said, “the most outstanding in the arts of statecraft is Mei Yan, from the Mei family of Changshu. However, I believe he is not the person you seek.”
Mei Yan. From the Mei family of Changshu.
Cheng Yunxiang committed the name to memory. “Thank you for informing me, Master. I will choose a day to visit Young Master Mei.” She wondered whether the Seven Lights Inkstone would find a recipient.
Sweetwater Alley, the Mei residence.
“My lord, Daoist Cheng suddenly fell ill in the street, retching and dizzy. It may have been caused by reading a storybook circulating from Yanzhou, Lady Dingxiang.”
Mei Yan was puzzled. “How can reading a storybook suddenly make someone ill?”
“In that book…” Zhao Cheng shook his head. “There is an illustration titled Lady Dingxiang Receiving Favor, painted by Hu Jun. The image is sensual and vulgar, depicting Lady Dingxiang almost like a courtesan. As a woman herself, Daoist Cheng may have felt a kind of sorrow and indignation, and thus fallen ill.”
Mei Yan sighed. “That our Beicang court allows such books to circulate among the people is hardly proper.” Publicizing the act of seizing a surrendered woman and flaunting it to the world made the Pei clan seem debauched and crude. Was that something to take pride in?
Inwardly, he sneered at Pei Hui.
“News from Yanzhou,” Zhao Cheng continued, “says the storybook originally did not include Lady Dingxiang’s portrait. Later, somehow, versions circulating from the First Prince’s residence began to include inserted illustrations.”
The First Prince’s residence. Pei Tai, that fool, Mei Yan thought coldly.
“Write to the Imperial City Directorate,” he said calmly. “Have them find a way to inform His Majesty. Emphasize the severity of the matter.”
With him around, Pei Tai’s dream of becoming crown prince would come to nothing.
“Yes, my lord,” Zhao Cheng replied, then hesitated. “But my lord, if the First Prince cannot become crown prince, would that not benefit the Second and Fourth Princes?”
Mei Yan let out a cold laugh. “The second and fourth are, like me, neither eldest nor legitimate. Even if His Majesty wishes to elevate them, he would have to go to great lengths to build their reputations and win public support. It will not happen quickly.”
As long as Pei Hui did not establish a crown prince, that suited him best. Even from thousands of miles away, he could still prevent Pei Tai from securing the position.
“Additionally, have someone purchase a copy of Lady Dingxiang and bring it to Yanzhou. Deliver it to Consort Su.”
Sure enough, when the matter reached Yanzhou, Pei Hui flew into a rage upon seeing the presented book. “Who painted this?”
He wanted to kill the artist to vent his anger.
Chancellor Zhang Xiliang said, “Judging from the style, it appears to be the work of Hu Jun, the painter at the First Prince’s side.” The women in Hu Jun’s paintings were often full-bodied, radiant, almost lifelike. It was said that from the age of fourteen, he had studied the female form, keeping twenty to thirty women in his residence, ranging from young girls to those in their thirties, for observation.
Rumor had it that these women were made to stand unclothed in his study, posing in various seductive positions for him to study. Decades of such practice had honed his unmatched skill in erotic painting.
For some reason, on that day when Pei Hui had favored Consort Su, he had allowed Hu Jun to observe from behind a screen, resulting in the creation of this vivid and sensual depiction of Lady Dingxiang receiving favor.
This painting had been kept in the palace for his private viewing. How had it made its way into the common world? It must have been Hu Jun secretly reproducing and spreading it.
“Debauched,” Pei Hui snapped, feeling deep regret. How could the First Prince associate with such a person? It was truly disappointing.
“Summon Grand Tutor Wei,” he ordered. “I must speak with him. The First Prince must be strictly disciplined.”
He had placed great hopes on Pei Tai, grooming him as a future emperor. There could be no errors.
“Yes,” Zhang Xiliang replied, though his expression was troubled.
At the same time, Mei Yan’s men secretly returned from Lin’an to Yanzhou, bringing with them a particularly explicit illustrated copy of Lady Dingxiang, which eventually reached Consort Su. After flipping through only a few pages, she fainted on the spot, overwhelmed by humiliation that cut into her heart like a thousand blades.
After an unknown amount of time, a maid quietly entered. “His Majesty has sent a carriage to bring you to the palace.”
Consort Su, her hair slightly disheveled, lifted her gaze. Her overwhelming beauty stunned the maid into a momentary daze.
“You may all leave,” she said. “Today, I will put on a new look.”
After the maids withdrew, Consort Su carefully dressed herself. With jeweled hair ornaments and her most splendid attire, she stood before the bronze mirror. Reflected within was a face of incomparable allure.
She walked to a blooming peony, smiled faintly, dimples appearing at her cheeks. Under the moonlight, the flower seemed to be plucked from its branch, withering and fading away…