The day after the grand wedding, at dawn, sunlight streamed in through the carved lattice windows, falling onto the face of the maiden below.
“Young Hero Jiang, time to rise!” the storytelling scholar Liu Qingming called from outside to wake Jiang Kui up.
When Jiang Kui opened her eyes, she found herself lying in a warm and cozy bed, the blanket corners neatly tucked. Beside her was a stack of pastries and a pot of fragrant tea, all still warm. Next to the teacup also sat a small bamboo tube.
Zhu Zi’an was no longer there.
Jiang Kui opened the bamboo container. The crude handwriting on the mulberry bark paper inside read: “Good morning, runaway bride.”
She could practically hear the teasing tone of that guy.
Jiang Kui swiftly devoured the pastries and gulped down the tea in one go. Traversing roofs and scaling walls all the way back, she snuck from East Pavilion into the Eastern Palace, stealthily slipping back inside the canopy curtains.
Everything within the new bridal canopy remained untouched as she had left it. The twin red candles had long since burned out, their emerald candle stands below glimmering beautifully in the dim morning light.
Lying back down in bed, she turned to glance sideways at Xie Wuyan. He still slept facing away on the other side of the canopy, covered in the mandarin duck blanket she had tucked over him earlier, quiet and peaceful as though he hadn’t woken up at all.
Thus Jiang Kui settled down reassured and drifted off.
It felt as though she had barely laid her head down before palace attendants outside the canopy were calling for the newlyweds to rise and change into their day clothes. By the time Jiang Kui got up, Xie Wuyan was already awake. Leaning against the doorway in a scarlet robe, he lifted his eyes to look at her and said gently, “Good morning, my lady.”
Sunshine gathered on his shoulders, complementing his gentle and scholarly temperament.
Jiang Kui gave an “Mm” in response, finding herself unable to utter “husband”. Head lowered, she remained silent. Xie Wuyan also ceased speaking, lowering his eyes as though lost in thought.
Although they hadn’t shared the same bed, having shared lodgings on their wedding night still made things somewhat awkward between the youthful newlyweds – distant yet constrained, suggestive yet ambiguous.
Jiang Kui slowly opened her mouth, “Xie Wuyan, I still have some questions for you.”
Xie Wuyan immediately turned to leave. “My lady, we shall meet again at the morning meal.”
“Hey!” Jiang Kui called after him, only glimpsing a flash of crimson disappearing around the corner of the canopy.
…Was he trying to evade her?
Considering she had held a sword to his throat last night, it was understandable he seemed rather afraid to answer her questions.
Additionally…Jiang Kui faintly sensed he always seemed to avoid meeting her eyes for some reason.
After finishing her morning toiletries with the palace maids’ assistance, Jiang Kui went to the main hall to share the morning meal with Xie Wuyan. Yet each time she tried to ask him something, he would erupt into coughing fits.
His coughs were so violent and his complexion so pale, half his face buried in his palm as his shoulders quaked slightly…that she couldn’t distinguish if he was genuinely ill or just pretending.
The young miss of a general’s household well-versed in feigning sickness was for once left confused by her husband’s act.
After the morning meal, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess proceeded to Chengtian Gate to pay respects, then met with the Emperor at Taiji Palace. After that they went to the ancestral temple to make offerings, followed by paying respects to each of the concubines in the palace. Kept busy the entire day, Jiang Kui still hadn’t found an opportunity to question Xie Wuyan.
By the time they returned to the Eastern Palace and Jiang Kui had changed into indoor attire after leaving the inner palace, she had just stepped out of the doors when the Vice Minister of the Prince’s Household came to report that the Crown Prince was feeling unwell and resting in the west wing, thus he would not be joining her for the evening meal.
Jiang Kui raised a brow. “I shall go pay him a visit right away.”
Accompanied by a crowd of palace maids half escorting, half obstructing her, she headed toward the west wing pavilion and shoved the lacquered golden pearwood doors wide open. Evening light slanted in from outside to illuminate the dim yellow halls. An iridescent lantern on a stand was placed by the door, its candle flame guttering faintly.
Within, all was silent. Before the carved wood canopy bed, its deep crimson curtains were half-drawn over the reclining figure upon it.
Stepping closer, Jiang Kui saw her husband lying curled on his side in bed, eyes closed, breathing light and slow with the occasional soft cough. A faint light upon his brows and lashes drew out a warm golden halo, serenely framing his sleeping features.
Jiang Kui scrutinized him for a long time, yet his expression never wavered and he remained utterly still but for an occasional bout of coughs.
Hesitantly, she lifted a finger and poked his forehead.
His skin felt icy cold, chillingly so. As her fingertip made contact, the clash of cool and warm made them both give a slight shiver. Xie Wuyan emitted a low cough, his complexion growing a shade paler still without opening his eyes.
…It seemed he really was deep asleep and genuinely feeling unwell.
Jiang Kui’s heart softened a little and she decided to spare him for the time being.
Turning, she exited the room and ascended her seat in the front hall. Tapping exquisite fingernails lightly on the gilded armrests, she summoned the Prince’s Vice Minister. “Minister Gu, I wish to see all of the Eastern Palace’s attendants. Bring all the account books and records as well.”
The Prince’s Vice Minister was a refined youth named Gu Huai. He acknowledged her command deferentially, lowering his head as he retreated.
Jiang Kui unhurriedly sipped a cup of floral tea as she languidly awaited.
Consort Tang had mentioned that the Eastern Palace held little power, and the Crown Prince had been sickly for years, rarely emerging from his quarters. Only after the return of his preceptor Imperial Tutor Ling Jiao and Prince Xie Heng from his exile did the Crown Prince’s party begin to gain strength and stand in opposition to Prince Qi’s faction, with the current Emperor’s tacit approval and support.
Yet the Eastern Palace had been in decline for years with the Crown Prince taking little part in managing affairs himself. Rumor in the palace claimed the Eastern Palace was chaotic from top to bottom, with attendants often lazy and negligent, presenting doctored financial accounts to the internal ministers that ended up a complete mess. Before her marriage, Consort Tang had urged her to thoroughly inspect the documents and records upon entering the Eastern Palace in order to carry out a complete overhaul.
A short while later, two maids brought in a long thick wooden table and set it before Jiang Kui. Several other palace maids then entered bearing stacks of ledgers and records and piled them high upon the table.
Next, all the attendants of the Eastern Palace arrived one by one. Led by Prince’s Vice Minister Gu Huai, they included one Junior Vice Minister, two Secretaries, one Registrar, two Clerks, nine Sheriffs…nearly a hundred completely surrounding the outside of the hall, bowing respectfully to await the Crown Princess’s orders.
Silence blanketed both inside and outside the hall, broken only by the water clock’s steady dripping.
Jiang Kui casually flipped through the account books and records as her bookkeeper held up a candle to brightly illuminate the pages. Amid the quiet, the soft rustling of pages turning was audible, and those gathered outside unconsciously moderated their breathing.
“The Steward of Provisions, come forth,” Jiang Kui said lightly.
The position of Steward of Provisions was eighth rank and in charge of supplying all food, fine wine, candles, firewood, foodstuff and serving vessels. He currently crept forward a trembling step, head somewhat anxiously lowered. After giving a full kowtow, he respectfully replied, “Please instruct, Imperial Concubine.”
Jiang Kui didn’t even raise her eyelids, flicking through a page as she calmly commanded, “Dismissed from office.”
The color drained from the Steward of Provisions’ face as though struck by lightning, his body going limp as he crumpled to the floor, kowtowing desperately. “Your Highness…this official does not know his offence…”
“How much silver did you embezzle?” Jiang Kui now lifted her gaze to spear him with an icy look.
The Steward of Provisions froze. “This insignificant one…”
“The tallies for candles and oil don’t match,” Jiang Kui cut him off. “Three hundred candles don’t require three thousand taels worth of oil. You cooked the books and had quite the audacity about it too. Who’s backing you?”
“Your Highness,” Gu nervously ventured, “shouldn’t we report a dismissal to His Highness the Prince first before acting?”
“When I say dismiss, it’s dismissed,” Jiang Kui’s tone was mild. “His Highness is still resting, I will notify him myself later.”
Still kneeling, the Steward of Provisions continued kowtowing desperately as several eunuchs came to lead him away.
Silence blanketed the hall once more.
Jiang Kui lowered her head to resume inspecting the ledgers and records, the soft rustling of pages turning mingling with the faint susurrus of leaves blown outside to fill those gathered by the ears with trepidation.
All were filled with apprehension.
After some time, Jiang Kui set aside the records with a languid sigh, “This concubine tires. We shall stop here for today. Everyone is dismissed.”
Amid the sound of shuffling feet, attendants and palace maids of all ranks bowed and took their leave one by one.
Jiang Kui ordered the ledgers and records on the table taken away, then headed toward the inner palace for her evening meal. As the bookkeeper lifted that stack of documents, she lowered her gaze briefly to secretly memorize two names in her mind.
They were the names of two small eunuchs, one called Little Bean, the other called Little Lucky.
In dismissing the corrupt Steward of Provisions, Jiang Kui intended both to set an example that shook the entire palace and located the actual targets of her purge – suspicious figures whose records showed their insertion into the Eastern Palace was too smooth…as though someone had intentionally placed them here.
Last night within the bridal canopy, Xie Wuyan had hinted to her that “the walls have ears”, seeming to distrust the denizens of the Eastern Palace.
Did Xie Wuyan know about this then?
Presently within the west wing pavilion of the Eastern Palace, Xie Wuyan wore a large padded cloak with a heated brazier across his lap at his desk as he penned replies to a sheaf of letters. Still softly coughing, seemingly highly vulnerable to chill, he would occasionally hold his hands to the stove to warm them.
After writing for a stretch, he heard the low, muffled knock of the door. Prince’s Vice Minister Gu Huai entered and bowed deeply. “Your Highness.”
“Yes?” Xie Wuyan absently returned, too lazy to even lift his head.
Minister Gu hesitated over how to phrase himself. “The Imperial Concubine…”
Xie Wuyan set down his brush and raised his eyes.
“She is…rectifying affairs in the Eastern Palace.” Gu managed to get half a sentence out.
“Mm,” Xie Wuyan gave a soft laugh. “Is she terribly fierce?”
“The Imperial Concubine overawes all the Eastern Palace’s ministers. She dismissed a minor Steward of Provisions on the spot and inspected all the account books and records…suspecting something amiss.”
“No matter,” Xie Wuyan dipped his brush in ink and continued writing. “I’ve been ill for years, too busy with other affairs to manage household matters. Previously I turned a blind eye. If she can rectify the Eastern Palace and clear out its parasites, so much the better.”
He gave a faint smile. “I didn’t actually know she understood such things.”
“The Imperial Concubine comes from a general’s estate, undoubtedly accustomed to managing household affairs daily,” Minister Gu respectfully replied. “In addition, with Consort Tang’s guidance, she will naturally be able to handle the Eastern Palace properly.”
“Yes, this Eastern Palace of mine is in need of reorganization. Let her investigate whatever she wants. Let her dismiss whoever she wants… Only those several suspicious people must remain in the palace, we can’t startle the snake in the grass.”
“This lowly minister understands,” Gu bowed deeply.
Xie Wuyan nodded and continued writing. Minister Gu stepped forth and bent over to grind some ink for him. Xie Wuyan asked him several questions about how the Crown Princess had conducted herself today and Gu respectfully answered each one as Xie Wuyan smiled while listening.
“I truly don’t understand anything about those account books, yet she spotted discrepancies at a glance,” he said with a chuckle. “In the future, all my finances will have to be left for her to manage.”
After a moment, he added softly, “I won’t live past twenty years of age. When I’m gone, everything will be hers.”
Caught by surprise in the middle of grinding, Minister Gu’s motions faltered as though pricked by a needle. Lifting his head to glance over, the esteemed Crown Prince sat bathed under the lamplight, cradling his heated brazier with a faint, lonely smile in his eyes.
Having served the Crown Prince for over a decade, Minister Gu seldom saw him reveal such fragile emotion.
“Your Highness…” he said softly, at a loss over how to continue.
“It’s nothing. Grind the ink please.”
So he silently poured more water into the ink stone basin and quietly resumed grinding.
The fierce Imperial Concubine finished her evening meal without managing to catch a break. She summoned Minister Gu to lead her on an inspection tour through the entire Eastern Palace.
Minister Gu led her past the front hall, main hall and rear hall, the east and west pavilions, two studies and the lotus pond to the north, earnestly explaining the purpose of each wing until finally, pausing outside one secluded pavilion and cautioning, “His Highness has forbidden anyone from entering this side pavilion.”
Jiang Kui raised her face to the tightly shut black lacquered doors of that pavilion. Through the gauzy windows one could faintly glimpse curling mists within, concealing some secret.
Very well, Jiang Kui scoffed inwardly. The first place I’m breaking into is that side pavilion.
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