Within the thick, heavy mist, Xie Wuyan slept for a long time.
In his dreams lingered endless fog, the fragrance of medicinal herbs, rich sandalwood incense, and the faint, delicate scent of a maiden. He didn’t know someone had allowed him to lean against her for a long time, someone had gruffly dried his hair when he was drenched, panicked and at a loss when he coughed, and gazed at his sleeping face when he sank into slumber.
The slightly intoxicated daylight spilled in from a slanted window to penetrate the vast fog, illuminating the maiden in the quiet room as well as the youth in her arms.
Yet she was unaware that he was the one from her dreams.
When Xie Wuyan opened his eyes, it was to meet her scrutinizing stare…
…He shut his eyes again.
“Awake?” Jiang Kui raised a brow.
Xie Wuyan sighed.
If he was Zhu Zi’an right now, he could continue feigning sleep with eyes closed and give a half-teasing response of “not awake”, then make some joke, real or fake, to provoke her anger and thereby evade her interrogation.
But he was Xie Wuyan at the moment.
Forced to reopen his eyes, Xie Wuyan met Jiang Kui’s piercing gaze.
He couldn’t recall when he had fallen asleep. His last memory was turning his back toward the screen.
Waking from slumber, he would always forget things – sometimes more, sometimes less. Each time he roused from sleep, he would need to ask those around him before he could remember what happened prior.
But now he couldn’t ask questions and had to remain silent, racking his brains. Vaguely he seemed to remember a pair of warm hands touching his hair, someone helping him lie flat so he could sleep a little better…
“What time is it now?” he inquired.
“Almost noon,” Jiang Kui replied.
“My lady, it’s nearly noon,” Xie Wuyan tentatively tried, “Why not take the noon meal first?”
Jiang Kui’s voice was icy. “I have questions for you. We eat after you’ve answered.”
Xie Wuyan gave another sigh.
Slowly sitting up, he noticed his drenched robes had been changed and though his hair was still slightly damp, mostly dry. Running a hand through it confusedly, he looked at her questioningly.
“Wasn’t me,” Jiang Kui spared him a glance. “Minister Gu came by.”
After Minister Gu’s arrival, he and Jiang Kui had helped lower Xie Wuyan into the medicinal hot spring together. He soaked for about an hour before they fished his soaked body back out. Steeped in the herbal water, Xie Wuyan’s complexion already appeared markedly improved to the naked eye, a faint blush creeping back into his cheeks.
Not long after, Minister Gu brought over warm, dry robes and assisted Xie Wuyan in changing before helping to towel his hair dry. All this while, Xie Wuyan remained fast asleep – Jiang Kui found his posture almost excessively peaceful.
Now Minister Gu had departed, leaving only Jiang Kui and Xie Wuyan in the side pavilion amid the curling mists.
“Drink your medicine,” Jiang Kui tilted her chin at the little blue and white porcelain cup on the pearwood tray before them, filled to the brim with bitter decoction.
Xie Wuyan picked up the cup, removed the lid, and slowly sipped. Jiang Kui watched him closely – strangely enough his expression was tranquil, showing no aversion as though merely drinking tea. His motions were steady and elegant.
Jiang Kui remembered Zhu Zi’an’s distaste for bitter foods, while Xie Wuyan seemed quite unlike him in this aspect.
“My lady, please ask your questions,” Xie Wuyan said as he finished drinking, smoothing his wide sleeves as he gently met her gaze.
The two of them sat facing each across a carved sandalwood table. Between them were a pot of light tea, two teacups, and the heavy mist.
“What exactly happened to the general’s estate?” Jiang Kui asked.
Everyone had been vague and evasive about this matter. Her father General Jiang Cheng had never brought it up, her young aunt Jiang Tang always urged her not to worry, while her three brothers were even more tight-lipped. Eldest brother Jiang Luan and second brother Jiang Feng seemed to know a little about what happened, while third brother Jiang Yuan appeared as confused as she was.
“Two months ago, for reasons unknown, an official from the Ministry of War brought his sword into Taiji Palace to meet with His Majesty. Bearing arms into the imperial presence is a capital offence. Some say he was drunk that day, others claim he received false information making him wrongly believe there was an imperial decree summoning him to protect the palace. In any case, it provoked great rage from my royal father and three guards before the throne were beheaded,” Xie Wuyan sighed.
“Your father, my honored father-in-law pled for leniency on that official’s behalf.”
Jiang Kui’s heart gave a faint lurch, though she knew her own father was just that sort of person.
“Afterwards, officials from the Censorate gathered evidence wanting to impeach my honored father-in-law for harboring treasonous ambitions,” Xie Wuyan continued. “This could have become a major or minor incident. However, as of late it seems my royal father has gradually grown suspicious of the general’s household, likely from constant insinuations.”
“Instigated by whom?” Jiang Kui lowered her voice.
Xie Wuyan returned her gaze. “Who does my lady suspect?”
Jiang Kui bit her lip. “The Northern Office.”
Within Chang’an, two locus of power existed. One was the Southern Offices within the imperial city, the other the Northern Offices inside the palace. The Southern Offices centered around scholar-officials and held nominal judicial authority, but no actual military power. The Northern Offices were home to the eunuchs and held no official authority, but controlled the all-important Shenwu Guards as well as the Emperor’s deep trust, thus their influence was immense. The struggle between the Northern and Southern Offices had gone on for years with practically every court official taking one side or the other.
“Does my lady know what they desire?”
“Military power,” Jiang Kui understood.
Allowing eunuchs to hold command of troops was an issue of great controversy in the current dynasty. Teacher Chang Ying had often lectured and debated this issue with Xie Yuan.
Three years ago after a policy debate before the throne in the fifth year of Jingde, a group of scholars were demoted and exiled without precedent due to their intense opposition, which also affected Prince Xie Min and the Crown Prince’s tutor Ling Jiao – both men were demoted to govern remote prefectures.
It was only once Prince Qi’s faction grew strong that the current Emperor wished to prop up the Crown Prince’s party as a counterbalance, recalling those officials exiled years before.
“If something happens to the general’s estate, might that Left and Right Guard fall into the Northern Office’s hands?” Jiang Kui lowered her voice.
The Left and Right Guard led by the Jiang household of Bailing was an elite force long coveted by various factions at court. The Northern Offices already controlled the capital’s Shenwu Guard responsible for protection. Gaining dominion over the Left and Right Guard that defended the area surrounding the capital as well would let their power reach its peak.
“Very possible,” Xie Wuyan murmured. “Thus I sought your hand to protect the general’s estate, both to repay the life-saving grace I owe your family and prevent the Left and Right Guard from falling into Northern Office hands.”
He shut his eyes with a soft sigh. “Many of those officials back then opposed letting eunuchs control military forces…they were all close acquaintances of mine.”
Once he finished, the logic made perfect sense. In seeking the general’s daughter’s hand, the Crown Prince indeed formed a political alliance, aiming to draw the general’s household over to the Crown Prince’s party, thereby preventing the Northern Office eunuchs from seizing the Left and Right Guard’s military authority. This marriage did contain an element of personal interest, what he termed “repaying grace”, yet was still primarily politically motivated.
“My lady, please believe me,” he reopened tranquil eyes to gaze at her. “There’s still about a year and a half left… I want to wrest military control back from the Northern Office and return it to the Southern Offices. I seek political clarity.”
“My time grows short. I can only accomplish this one thing,” he said softly.
Jiang Kui returned his gaze through the vast mist. He sat serenely bathed in the hazy light.
He slowly lowered his eyes. “My lady, ours is but a nominal marriage. When I am gone, you will still be pure and innocent, free to marry whomever you wish.”
But by then, Xie Wuyan would be no more, nor Zhu Zi’an either.
“You’re not going to die, Xie Wuyan,” Jiang Kui stated stubbornly through gritted teeth after some thought. “I don’t believe in incurable illnesses. Who told you that you won’t make it past your rite of passage?”
Xie Wuyan looked startled. “The imperial physician said thus.”
“Then that was definitely a quack doctor,” Jiang Kui scoffed. “I say you won’t die, so you’re not allowed to die.”
Propping her cheek on a palm, she scrutinized him seriously. “Go on. What symptoms does this illness of yours have?”
It seemed the first time someone asked Xie Wuyan this question directly. He pondered briefly before answering, “Coughing fits. Aversion to cold. Lethargy…”
“That’s just ordinary frailty,” Jiang Kui said scornfully. “From tomorrow onward, you’ll train with me every morning.”
Xie Wuyan stared blankly back.
“On time to rise and sleep, eat meals and take medicine on schedule.”
Xie Wuyan said slowly, “…Alright.”
“All three daily meals will be supervised by me from now on.”
“Okay.”
“All the Eastern Palace’s documents and ledgers will be handed over to me.”
“Okay.”
“Also, when’s the last time you attended lectures at Chongwen Academy?”
“I—” Xie Wuyan started to say.
Jiang Kui cut him off. “I know you secretly went to the Imperial Library recently. But you haven’t been attending classes there. Teacher Chang said you pretend to be sick to skip lessons.”
“I don’t—”
“You definitely do,” Jiang Kui asserted, lifting her face to look at him. “Don’t think Teacher can’t tell.”
“From tomorrow onward, you’re not allowed to miss a single class. Make up everything you’ve missed.”
“…Alright,” he conceded.
“You must also attend every early court session.”
“Understood.”
Her rules came one after another.
“Starting tomorrow, I’ll supervise you reading through all the memorials. No more slacking,” Jiang Kui continued. “As Crown Prince and Eastern Palace’s master, you ought to behave like the Heir Apparent. Lying sick in bed every day hardly qualifies.”
Xie Wuyan seemed to choke, erupting into a violent coughing fit that bent him over double as he clutched his chest, his sickly pallor returning. After coughing for some time, he lifted reddened eyes toward her. “My lady—”
Jiang Kui looked at him coldly. “That’s fake.”
After a mere one day, the general’s daughter well-versed in feigning frailty could now accurately judge whether her husband’s coughs were authentic or not.
Xie Wuyan fell silent for a spell without coughing further.
“You’re not getting out of this,” Jiang Kui gave a disdainful sniff. “The Jiang ladies of Bailing are known for governing their husbands. You’ve married me now, so you ought to know what’s coming.”
Xie Wuyan silently poured her a fresh cup of tea with both hands and offered it to her. “My lady, please have some tea.”
Jiang Kui took a sip of the tea. “Xie Wuyan, you’re the Heir Apparent and should behave like one. If one day you become the Emperor, then I would be Empress.”
“Would you like to be Empress?” Xie Wuyan regarded her questioningly.
“Not particularly,” Jiang Kui shook her head. “But I am a daughter of the Jiang clan of Bailing. I will bear every responsibility expected of me and do whatever I must. Now that I’ve married you, I am the Crown Prince’s wife and must naturally act befitting that status in addition to preparing for potentially becoming Empress.”
“Therefore, Xie Wuyan,” her eyes bored into his, “you’re not alone. As your wife I shall accompany you on whatever path you choose to take from now on.”
He seemed taken aback for a spell before murmuring softly, “…Thank you.”
“No need for thanks,” Jiang Kui looked away. “It’s not even for your sake.”
She went on, “Consider this our marital agreement from now on. You fulfill your role as Crown Prince and I shall fulfill my duty as Crown Princess. I will help you govern the Eastern Palace while you must remain diligent in carrying out your obligations as Heir Apparent.”
“Understood.” Xie Wuyan nodded solemnly.
“Let’s seal it with a handshake,” Jiang Kui lifted a palm.
Their hands met with a crisp slap atop the table between them. Both their eyes flickered subtly.
Xie Wuyan’s body temperature ran cold. Although the hot spring had drawn some warmth to the surface, iciness still pierced Jiang Kui’s palm the instant their hands touched.
He lowered his gaze, long lashes concealing his eyes.
After thinking for a bit, Jiang Kui posed another new question. “Are you aware there are suspicious people among the Eastern Palace denizens?”
Xie Wuyan nodded. “There are quite a few.”
Jiang Kui choked indignantly. “And you’re not doing anything about it?”
“My lady, I’ll leave that to you to handle,” Xie Wuyan said placidly. “My energy is limited, I cannot manage too many things. However, there are two eunuchs who, suspicious as they are, must remain in the palace.”
“Would that be a Little Bean and Little Lucky?”
“Mm. They’re brothers, and it seems one among them even knows some martial arts. I want to find out whose command they’re under and what their aim is.”
He didn’t seem surprised that she knew. Glancing at her, Xie Wuyan added, “Yesterday they reported to me that you went to East Pavilion Tower in the middle of the night.”
Jiang Kui was badly startled. For someone to be able to trail her movements without her noticing, that person’s martial arts could be no mere “knows some.”
“You…” She hesitated, uncertain how to explain to Xie Wuyan why she had scaled the palace walls in the dead of night.
“It’s nothing,” Xie Wuyan said calmly. “See whoever you wish. I won’t interfere with your affairs.”
For an ordinary husband, upon hearing his newly wedded wife slipped out in their very wedding night for a secret tryst he would likely fly into towering rages. Xie Wuyan’s reaction was far too placid… Was it because he simply didn’t care about her business? Or like he said, their marriage was but nominal anyways?
“Those two eunuchs—” Jiang Kui pondered aloud.
Xie Wuyan cut her off. “My lady, I’m utterly starving. Might we take our noon meal first?”
His expression was earnest, complexion somewhat wan – he truly seemed famished.
“Fine, that’s all for today.” Jiang Kui got up, preparing to head to the inner palace to change before their meal.
She pushed the door open, then stopped and looked back at him.
“You must return to the palace by the hour of Hai (9pm – 11pm) every night,” she suddenly recalled another new rule. “I heard those of frail constitution prone to illness ought not go out late into the damp night air.”
Xie Wuyan gazed silently at her for a spell.
“…Understood,” he sighed again at last.
Leave a Reply