Jiang Kui received Zhu Zi’an’s reply on the third day.
She found the letter mixed in with a pile of incoming missives for the Eastern Palace. As always Zhu Zi’an had casually stuffed a sheet of mulberry paper amidst a great wad of correspondence, utterly unconcerned whether she would even spot it.
The bold energetic characters on the front stated simply: “Busy.”
Just that single word conveyed volumes on presumably occupied days.
Jiang Kui snorted under her breath, lightly running the sheet over a candle flame until the scribbled code emerged through the heat.
She took out the little codebook stashed inside its wooden case, smoothing out a large sheet of paper over her desk. Cross referencing book cipher and paper message, she began painstakingly piecing together Zhu Zi’an’s lengthy reply word for word, sentence by sentence.
Zhu Zi’an’s response affirmed most of Jiang Kui’s guesses – concurring that Prince Qi’s next target would likely be either Crown Prince Supporter Prince Xie Heng or the Crown Prince himself, further suspecting some manner of cooperation between Prince Qi and the White Haired Old Man.
Yet one line stood out regarding the original assassination attempt on Jiang Kui before her wedding. “Many questionable points around this matter” hinted at reservations, implying Prince Qi may not have directly orchestrated the affair whereas the White Haired Old Man almost certainly participated.
He also detailed recent progress tracking down that mysterious intermediary. This rising newcomer concealed his tracks exceptionally well, possibly a highly placed court insider able to leverage connections masking his trail. Additionally, strong likelihood existed of him having orchestrated recent violent conflicts between the Southland Beggars’ Sect and Northern Mendicants’ Sect, subtly aiming to encroach on Master Pu Liu’s territory.
The letter conveyed Zhu Zi’an’s enormous hostility targeting the White Haired Old Man. Jiang Kui could easily envision his defiant expression while declaring intentions to “defeat this villain once and for all”.
A sudden fancy took her to glimpse such a scene herself.
After all, written correspondence had underpinned their relationship for years. Throughout eight years of friendship they invariably communicated with a barrier between – letters or screens – never once meeting face to face or drawing close. The most intimate yet distant of confidants.
Contrarily this past month had stacked up unusually frequent rendezvous in stark contrast.
Even constant interactions crammed into a single month yielded but two moments of true contact – that time in the carriage when she’d seized his proffered fingers and later in the royal tomb when he’d gently cupped her ears.
In the aftermath of her wedding night unspoken consensus restored proper distance once more. Those abrupt flashes of untoward feeling resembled rainwater sluicing off without trace, effortlessly resuming their paramount places as closest comrade and ally…In truth neither had ever breached past such definite roles.
Thus the thought “wanting to see him” merely fleeted through her mind before firmly interring itself into obscured depths.
Jiang Kui carefully stowed away the letter then gathered up sorted documents into her arms, boarding a small palanquin bound for the secluded Penglai Hall seeking advice from Princess Tang.
Penglai Hall filled with lingering wisps of sandalwood incense. Princess Tang wore her hair in an artfully lazy twist, lounging sideways atop the grand chaise. A tired smile gracing her features still couldn’t fully disguise hints of strain.
“Dear aunt how do you fare recently?” Jiang Kui asked with concern.
Princess Tang wearily massaged her temple. “Merely unpleasantness from this tiresome charade of concealment. Lacking trusted imperial physicians for proper miscarriage prevention I can’t source suitable abortifacients.”
Jiang Kui started in surprise. “What about Dr Zheng, the imperial doctor who regularly checks your pulse?”
Princess Tang exhaled heavily. “Turns out he had tampered with my preventative decoctions under threat.”
“How could this be so…”
“The poor man had no choice. Dowager Consort Pei held his wife and children’s lives hostage, coercing him to sabotage my medicines. He dared not betray my condition so none besides my most trusted confidants know of the pregnancy…There remains opportunity to end it before wider discovery. Then we can mitigate the fallout.”
“Yet reliable persons within the Imperial Infirmary have vanished,” she finished bleakly.
Jiang Kui pondered briefly. “Dear aunt, I’m acquainted with an exceptional doctor of medicine. He may be able to formulate miscarriage draught, avoiding unnecessary palace involvement.”
“To whom do you refer?”
“A physician surnamed Shen whom the masses address as Dr Shen.”
Faint curiosity sparked in Princess Tang’s eyes as if dredging up distant memories. “One surnamed Shen… Over a decade ago, a phenomenally skilled imperial doctor also bearing that surname served in the infirmary, given name Qing with the courtesy name Zidan. He retired eight years past and disappeared without a trace. Are you certain this man remains uninvolved with courtly strife, Xiaoman?”
Jiang Kui shook her head. “The Jiang Hu code forbids prying into another’s origins. I’m ignorant of his background but firmly believe reputable character.”
“He recently provided medical treatment for an acquaintance of mine.”
“Very well.” Princess Tang nodded. “Then we shall rely on this apothecary Shen’s expertise.”
After concluding that sensitive discussion Jiang Kui removed folded documents from her sleeve to ask Princess Tang’s advice managing Eastern Palace administrative affairs. Patient pointers covered Jiang Kui’s many questions before the princess hesitantly added, “Have you considered, Xiaoman – if they could interfere right in my own Penglai Hall then similar meddling may have occurred unchecked over the years with the Eastern Palace?”
Jiang Kui nodded slowly. “I’m already conducting a covert investigation. Might my dear aunt suspect His Highness’s illness as deliberately induced?”
“Potentially.” Princess Tang said measuredly. “Rumors of the Crown Prince’s susceptibility accentuated after that autumn banquet during the fifth Jing De year.”
“That night he accidentally overturned a wine pitcher then lapsed into sudden unconsciousness for days, sparking a flood of gossip despite imperial suppression. After the Crown Prince faction’s decline and Prince Qi’s meteoric rise.”
“I’d assumed Prince Qi’s partisans spread such defamatory talk so gave little credence until now with your marriage furnishing a direct confession…His Majesty likely long knew the truth hence willingness cultivating supporters for the Crown Prince as counterbalance against Prince Qi’s cronies.”
“So this is why the Son of Heaven trusts the Crown Prince despite acknowledging his failure to survive maturity cannot threaten the throne…”
“Even one’s own child becomes sacrificial pawn before the king…” She whispered, thoughts drifting away.
Jiang Kui firmly shook her head. “I refuse to believe any “predestined terminal illness”. Aside from Lord Yama judging life and death, who dares decree another’s appointed end? Moreover from observation these days, His Highness merely suffers weaker constitution especially vulnerable to chill. I will get to the bottom of matters then cure him completely.”
Rekindled determination seemed to hearten Princess Tang as well, a responding smile touching her lips. She gave Jiang Kui’s hair an affectionate tussle. “My little treasure star’s husband will surely enjoy longevity. After some months married, grown fond of him yet?”
“I just find him rather pitiable…” Jiang Kui mumbled under breath.
“There is another thing I must tell you.” Stroking a few loose strands back Princess Tang hesitated briefly before continuing solemnly. “Crown Princess Chu will return in three days. Furthermore arrangements were already finalized with the paternal clan in Bailing to retrieve Third Young Lord at month’s end. Eldest and Second Young Lords insist on remaining in Chang’an so no persuasion has worked.”
“I see.” Princess Tang shut her eyes with a muted sigh. “The General Estate has staked their final gambit it seems.”
Cloying sandalwood seeped steadily out the golden brazier, little by little wreathing her lowered lashes and temple like a bittersweet elegy. Late blooming splendor graced that exquisite fading visage.
Departing the secluded residence, Jiang Kui happened to cross paths with Xie Yong just returning to the palace after lessons.
“Dear imperial sister!” Xie Yong happily seized her hand. “How fares married life? If that wastrel Wuyan dares mistreat you my imperial sister will help avenge!”
“He hasn’t exactly mistreated me per se.” Jiang Kui tilted her head thinking it over. “I suppose I’m the one bullying more.”
Xie Yong clapped delightedly. “Just as expected of the grand general’s daughter! My sweet sister, now you’re mistress of the Eastern Palace. Might you indulge me with some lotus pods from the pond?”
The two girls traversed the winding corridors to the rear lotus pond’s elegant waterside gazebo. Xie Wuyan currently occupied its peaked roof, plucking mournful notes from the zither laid across his lap. Wispy clouds meandered across snowy robes anchored by a dark mottled outer coat. A tiny brazier rested by his knees chasing away the nip of seasonal transition.
Halting the trembling strings with one pale hand he rose to salute. “My lady. Shenbi.”
His gaze briefly lingered over their linked hands, flickering faintly before lifting expressionlessly upwards.
“Now why no imperial sister for me, Xie Wuyan!” Xie Yong mock complained.
“We were born barely a day apart Xie Shenbi.” Xie Wuyan sounded infinitely resigned. “Just as Lord Xie Heng addresses you as Shenbi so shall I. Has it not always been thus?”
Jiang Kui gradually deduced Xie Yong’s initial demand back at their first meeting for Xie Wuyan to “address her as imperial sister” alongside suggestion that Jiang Kui “follow along” was purely casual bluster.
Xie Yong clutched Jiang Kui’s arm pleadingly. “My lady addresses me as imperial sister. Shouldn’t you follow suit?”
“Imperial sister,” Jiang Kui immediately obeyed, face a portrait of innocence.
“That’s my good girl.” Xie Yong gave her an approving pat before swiveling back towards Xie Wuyan smugly. “Well?”
Xie Wuyan’s eyes drifted briefly over to that stroking hand, minute tension swiftly veiled. With utmost resignation he finally conceded. “Imperial sister.”
“Excellent. You ought to adhere to your lady’s conduct from now on.”
Xie Yong breezily continued, “Might any lotuses remain for your pond? Your lady already agreed on my behalf so I’ve come expecting pods.”
Xie Wuyan shook his head in denial. Still Xie Yong doubted him so they circuited the large pond under his lead, the dark outer coat wrapped snugly round his frame while cradling the warming brazier.
Crisp air heralded winter’s steady approach. Scattered lotus leaves rotted amidst floating debris as fat carp dimpled the pond mirroring glorious skies. His silhouette preceded them, gilded edges framing a lonely figure.
The podless scene left Xie Yong sorely disappointed. Only after her departure did Xie Wuyan tug Jiang Kui back towards the elegant pavilion. Conjuror quick he extracted a delicately embroidered silken pouch from voluminous sleeves, bulging temptingly with peeled lotus seeds.
“Xie Wuyan, you-” Jiang Kui whipped her head up glaringly.
“Shh…” One upright finger sealed his lips. “She hasn’t gone far.”
Mischievous laughter danced in his eyes, vanishing swiftly as sea fog.
Inner turmoil warred briefly before Jiang Kui succumbed to private hoard of treats, silently pouring seeds into her palm for enthusiastic consumption.
Some bites in she recalled her purpose. Head lifting she passed along Princess Tang’s cryptic message for Xie Wuyan. “My aunt bid me tell you – do not interfere no matter what happens. She claims whatever she’s scheming cannot be helped by you.”
Xie Wuyan froze ponderingly. “Do not interfere?”
“Yes. No matter what occurs you mustn’t interfere.” Jiang Kui searched his face. “Can you make sense of this?”
After lengthy rumination Xie Wuyan shook his head helplessly. “I cannot.”
“Oh well. I assumed you’d understand.” Jiang Kui resumed feasting once more.
“I’m no immortal sage. How could I possibly know everything?” Xie Wuyan replied with mild exasperation. Barest amusement softened his tone before hastily stifling any outburst.
“Please eat at leisure, my lady.” Rising to his feet he retreated back towards the waiting zither.
Lilting melodies drifted above the shimmering pond. White egrets waded amidst swaying lotuses as a mandarin pair dozed amongst broad leaves, wings gently entwined like divine immortal lovers.
At the waterside gazebo the white clad youth played on, seated beside a vibrant girl with lotus seeds piled high in her lap. Late autumn generosity cast everything in liquid gold – a heady glow seeming to languidly suspend time itself.
A lone crimson leaf broke free, wafting on aimless air currents towards the maiden. Xie Wuyan tensed subtly, hand already outstretched nearly grazing her hair.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jiang Kui batted his intrusion away irritably.
Xie Wuyan said merely, “You had a leaf in your hair.”
“Oh.” Jiang Kui gave the mess a casual fluff.
Soundlessly he exhaled watching the leaf complete its gentle spiral earthwards.
Author’s Note:
Little Xie: (puts on pained mask) If everyone else is allowed to touch my wife’s hair why not me…
Table of Contents | Next Chapter
Leave a Reply