“You suspect that…”
“Their draft is too deep,” he remarked, watching the boats recede into the distance. “Those grain ships make yearly trips carrying supplies. They set off in batches from the Huai River, sail through the Yellow River, and finally reach Chang’an. After unloading their cargo, they return to various locations for the next shipment.”
He elaborated, “From my understanding, the returning empty barges often carry goods like salt or sugar for extra profit. The quantities aren’t huge so the vessels wouldn’t ride low. Hence those shallow-bottomed boats shouldn’t be sunk too deep in the water.”
She considered briefly. “So you believe those grain ships were also smuggling some prohibited items?”
“That’s quite commonplace. Local officials frequently bring items illicitly from the capital back to their own prefectures. Although not entirely kosher, the court tends to turn a blind eye to permit such practices.”
He gave a small laugh. “I sometimes dabble in that trade myself using the same route.”
“But I heard rumors that Huaixi has grown unstable lately… That thought left me vaguely uneasy.”
Tilting his head, he mused, “Or it could simply be me overthinking things.”
“Should we find some way to trail those grain ships and investigate?” She asked.
“No need to go that far out of our way over mere curiosity,” Zhu Zi’an decided, leaning on one palm. “I’ll send people to look into the matter afterwards.”
He glanced sideways at her. “Jiang Xiaoman, when you write to the bookstore tomorrow, help remind me about this – I’m prone to forgetting when too busy.”
After a short pause, he repeated in emphasis, “Many things preoccupy me lately, it’s easy to forget once immersed in work.”
“Understood. I’ll remember to include a note,” she nodded.
Eyes drifting shut, he relaxed against the side of the boat listening to the rhythmic splashes of the oars propelling them forward.
The humble craft slipped through the shimmering waters, gliding over a pool of rippling moonbeams before finally pulling up along a deserted riverbank.
A black carriage trimmed in white and draped with lustrous beaded curtains awaited on shore. The youthful driver clad in black leapt down and bowed with hands folded. “Master. Young Master Jiang.”
Their small boat drifted closer. Lu Shiyi tossed over a mooring line which Jiang Kui promptly seized to tie against the hull with practiced ease, towing them into shallows. She then turned and gently helped the slumbering Zhu Zi’an out onto the sandy bank.
Still muddled by drowsiness, he docilely let her lead him toward the carriage. Halfway there, he seemed to rouse somewhat. Stifling another yawn, he mumbled, “Xiaoman, no need to see me off… Sleep early.”
Without further ado, he slipped into the cabin. The curtain swished down and silence soon emanated from within.
Jiang Kui traded a significant look with Lu Shiyi.
After driving the carriage some distance down the narrow lane, Lu Shiyi abruptly pulled over to the roadside. Vaulting down swiftly, he flipped the curtains open to check inside. “Your Highness…?”
The occupant leaned bonelessly against the cabin wall, lacking even the strength to respond. Summoning the effort to crack open heavy lids, he rasped faintly, “…The disused annex hall. No need to rouse me if I’m asleep when we arrive… Just dump me into the medicinal pool.”
That said, he let his head loll to the side, promptly nodding off again.
Lu Shiyi tucked a furled blanket around him and placed a warmed brazier in his arms. Stepping back out, he faced the desolate alley and announced softly: “Young Master Jiang, His Highness slumbers.”
The crimson-clad maiden emerged from the dark alleyway. With a slight nod to Lu Shiyi, she threw aside the curtain and stepped into the cabin herself.
The carriage wheels crunched over snow-lined blue stone pavement as moonlight washed over its path.
Inside, the girl gently shook the sleeping figure awake. Leaning down by his ear, she reproached, “Fool Xie Kang, still dragging your half-dead self out to play…”
She tightened both arms fiercely around him. Ensconced within that embrace, his heartbeat gradually stabilized while each shallow breath grew increasingly clear.
After some moments, he gave a couple weak coughs as hints of color returned to his lips.
Carefully propping up his head to rest in her hold, she tucked her chin lightly against his forehead and gazed down at him.
Moonbeams spilled over his visage, limning his elegant features gently luminous as still waters. Though fast asleep, joy hinted faintly at the corners of his upturned lips – as if he wandered through blissful dreams.
“So happy despite everything?” She smiled indulgently. “Very well then, you’re forgiven for sneaking out.”
Shutting her own eyes, she breathed, “Next year… Let’s go play more games together. Watch the acrobats, float flower lanterns down the river… Would you like that?”
The following noon, pale sunlight filtered into the annex room.
Xie Wuyang awoke amidst the lazy curls of mist to find the young girl going through documents at a nearby table.
He gave a muted cough, attempting to flex his fingers though still devoid of strength. She glanced over and helped prop him up on a bolster pillow before fetching a bowl of medicinal soup to slowly spoon-feed him.
“Last night…” Both started simultaneously, then stopped.
“Please go ahead, my lady,” Xie Wuyang offered graciously.
“How much do you still remember?” She probed warily.
Marshalling all his effort, he considered briefly “…Nothing at all.”
“I can’t seem to recall anything after dusk,” he affirmed.
Testing carefully, he ventured, “My lady, did you go view the lanterns last eve?”
She nodded. “Together with a friend.”
“Would that happen to be the same friend you mentioned previously?” He chose his words with deliberation.
“I refuse to disclose their identity,” she replied laughingly, attention already straying back to the soup feeding. Once he finished the medicine, she popped a brown sugar pill into his mouth and proceeded to spoon some rice porridge.
“Why won’t you tell me?” He grumbled indistinctly into the porridge.
Perhaps finding his sulky reaction entertaining, she studied him quietly for some moments, head tilted. Still facing down with lowered lashes, bleak gloom clung to his defeated posture.
With a resigned sigh, she conceded, “You really are such an easily discontented sort.”
“Oh very well then. It was that aforementioned friend. We watched performing monkeys, floated flower lanterns, and even brawled a little.”
“You fought as well?” His tone betrayed mild surprise.
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded, elaborating, “Turns out that friend is downright abysmal at combat. He was completely spent after just a short bout and ended up chased down several streets…”
“How…humiliating,” Xie Wuyang commented after a brief pause, eyes closed.
“Utterly humiliating indeed,” she affirmed between giggles. “But I’m rather fond of him… He’s my good friend, after all.”
Musing some more, she added, “Though it seems we now owe quite a bit in reparations after that scuffle…”
“Truly frightening,” he murmured.
“Still, I was happy. And he was equally delighted,” she maintained brightly.
“That’s good then.” He echoed her smile, still facing the floor.
Once some strength returned to his limbs, she brought up another matter that occurred the prior night. “While boating on the river yesterday, my friend and I happened to encounter empty barges sailing back upriver after deliveries. I noticed something off about how deeply those ships sat in the water…”
Rather than personally visiting the bookstore to leave him a missive as planned, she efficiently summarized the full account.
He pondered briefly upon hearing before giving an approving nod. “I’ll write to some official contacts I know and ask them to investigate.”
She assisted him over to the writing desk. Taking out a sheet of letter paper, he loaded his brush and poised his flowing sleeve – ready to produce some calligraphy. Watching him compose, she admired the rich facets of ink shading through his decisive strokes.
“Has your hand always been this way?” She suddenly asked.
“But of course,” he responded airily. “My tutor Master BoYang was extremely particular about calligraphic styles.”
She pictured that strict teacher in her mind’s eye. “If you secretly tried mimicking some other script, he’d surely punish you once he caught you right?”
“I would never dare imitate anything different,” Xie Wuyang stated loftily.
Then he added under his breath, “Not where anyone might notice, in any case.”
“Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that,” she blinked.
“Oh, pay it no mind.” He put his brush down. “We’ll have to wait for their replies.”
The responses arrived within days. As Jiang Kui sorted through documents, Housekeeper Gu entered to present the letters with full courtesies toward them both.
Xie Wuyang accepted the bundle and skimmed each missive in turn, slight vexation marring his brow.
“Any discoveries?” Jiang Kui looked to him expectantly.
“None whatsoever – which is the strangest aspect,” he uttered heavily. “This requires an in-person visit to Huaixi on my part after all.”
Rising to his feet, he continued, “Let us go consult Prince Wen and the others. Recent events in that region should be discussed together.”
The pair exited the west wing chambers by carriage through the Imperial City en route to Prince Wen’s estate. All along the way, rhythmic hoofbeats clopped steadily outside. Hugging his ever-present brazier, Xie Wuyang silently mulled over his circling thoughts.
Arriving at Prince Wen’s manor, the two entered the study to find the other familiar faces already gathered. Exchanging pleasantries briefly, they launched into discussion of pressing affairs.
Prince Wen gave a weary sigh. “Instability festers through Huaixi while heavy winter snows disrupt transport lines – further exacerbating grain shipment delays plaguing court. Minister Wei Que of the Revenue Department clamors loudest about this crisis.”
His low voice turned severe. “As a senior third-rank holding authority over the Canal, Minister Wei’s engorged himself rich by extorting outrageous transit taxes all along the route. The mounting grievances from those exploitative policies directly incited bandit uprisings through Huai Prefecture. And now the local Inspector by the name of He Quan petitions military action to quell them.”
Duke Ling remarked soberly, “During my stint governing Huai Prefecture, I became acquainted with this He Quan. His request to mobilize soldiers is but a front to expand his private militia.”
The Yangtze River Delta produced tremendous amounts of grain. Once loaded onto ships from Huai River, the goods sailed through the Grand Canal before transferring into the Yellow River, finally reaching Chang’an via the Wei River’s waterways – amounting to over 2.3 million stone weight of supplies yearly vital for the Guandong region’s food consumption.
Any turmoil stalling Canal traffic inevitably crippled court operations. Thus, keeping Huaixi secure always topped imperial priorities.
“I shall personally travel to Huai Prefecture for a look,” stated Xie Wuyang decisively.
Prince Wen sent him a vaguely apprehensive look. “Just last month when you took that eastern expedition, assassins ambushed your boats even before you reached the Wei River bend…”
“Because some wish to bar me from going, that confirms the abnormal situation in Huaixi,” reasoned Xie Wuyang, passing over the bundle of administrative letters concerning grain shipments for them to review. “Usually, illegally piggybacking private goods through the official canalways trade is commonplace. But for Minister Wei Que of all people to help conceal such deeds seems peculiar.”
Sitting to the side, Prince Qi frowned, puzzled. “What sort of merchandise could possibly require calling upon ties so formidable?”
“I have the inklings of suspicion, yet dare not voice certainties presently,” admitted Xie Wuyang heavily.
Having seen the letters, Prince Wen agreed, “Wuyang is needed on site for this Huaixi assignment.”
With clear concern, he cautioned, “Take extreme care during such a risky endeavor.”
Xie Wuyang acknowledged the advice with a slight dip of his chin. “I intend to obtain a covert imperial edict from my Father first – that way, none shall realize when I depart the capital.”
Addressing Prince Qi, he continued, “Old friend, I leave managing affairs here to you during my absence.”
Prince Qi just scoffed loudly at that, likely recalling some amusing memory from his sardonic grin. “You and your habit of shirking duties, Crown Prince. Oh very well then! With you gone, that just leaves the other princes and princesses to me.” His smug tone dripped with relish.
Xie Wuyang uttered an indifferent chuckle. “Don’t even dream of it. My wife shall be otherwise occupied.”
Jiang Kui glanced sideways at him. “Permit me to accompany you on this Huai assignment.”
He gave her a mysterious smile. “You will not come along with me.”
Blinking bemusedly, she struggled to parse his cryptic response.
The group carried on discussing Huaixi late into night when the skies darkened and moon rose high. Departing Prince Wen’s residence by carriage on their way back to Eastern Palace, Xie Wuyang wearily reclined against the window, brazier held close as fatigue slowly overtook him.
“Given your current condition, I worry for your safety traveling alone so far into Huaixi,” said Jiang Kui, eyeing his worn state anxiously.
“There is no cause for concern,” he countered through a delicate yawn.
Sensing his disinclination for further exchange, she held her tongue, watching as he simply nestled deeper into the corner and drifted immediately into sleep.
At dawn next morning, Xie Wuyang left for Taiji Palace to request a secret edict. While Jiang Kui sorted through administrative scrolls awaiting attention back in their palace quarters, he returned clutching a bundle of correspondence.
Seemingly skimming through the stack with casual disinterest, he singled out a thin sheet of birch bark parchment and nonchalantly slid it across the table toward her. “A letter for you, my lady.”
She froze, startled by the gesture. Taking the paper gingerly, she noted the nearly illegible scrawl reading simply: ‘East Pavilion bookstore’.
Leveling him with a suspicious glare, his guileless reaction nearly convinced her of ignorance.
“How did you know that missive was addressed to me?” She prompted warily.
“It couldn’t have been meant for me. Thus by process of elimination, naturally yours,” he reasoned earnestly.
Then Xie Wuyang took up his writing brush and spread out a blank scroll with the air of settling down for a full night of work.
She rose to her feet amidst the piles of unfinished paperwork. “I’ll just step out for a spell.”
“Go right ahead.” He barely glanced upward.
“No interrogation over my outing or its purpose for once?” She shot him an irritated look.
Ever obliging, he immediately parroted, “Where are you headed off to now and for what reason, my lady wife?”
Ignoring his automatic response, she simply scoffed under her breath and left through the door. Back pressed against the closed panels, she muffled a quick laugh. “Off to meet that silly fool Xie Kang.”
Azure moonbeams spilled like liquid down the winding alleys surrounding the East Pavilion.
The girl rapped at the locked bookstore entrance wearing a tiny woven bamboo hat. Yawning drowsily, the storytelling proprietor Liu Qinghe took one look and stated, “Master Pu Liu is still away.”
“Obviously. That idiot remains en route as we speak,” she laughed brightly, already moving past him toward the gallery bookshelves. Selecting a pristine set of celadon porcelain tea vessels, she headed up the wooden side staircase with familiar ease. Through the open window flickering with languid moonlight, unobstructed views stretched far into the veiled distance. Bamboo mats covering the floor shone softly under the hazy glow.
Making herself comfortable before the low table, she fiddled with the tea set while waiting, having no plans to personally brew anything undrinkable. She would simply foist that task on a certain someone upon his arrival instead.
Much later, muted footsteps rang up the stairs at last.
Entering with arms full of books and letters, the moonbeams limning his face seemed to match the silent mirth alight in his eyes. Catching sight of her, his lips quirked up helplessly despite an exaggerated sigh. “Xiaoman, you’re much too early…”
Beckoning him over impatiently, she commanded, “Hurry up and make us some tea.”
He sank down across from her and accepted the proffered instruments. Yet instead of moving to prepare the tea, he set aside his carried items on the table and stated gravely, “Important business first.”
Extracting a folded letter from the pile, he passed it over. “News from the Imperial Tutor… We need to head for Huaixi.”
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