Chapter Thirty-Four: The Timeless Riddle and the Lovely Lady's Pursuit

The young girl was both angry and embarrassed, and she snapped, “What business is it of yours?”
The burly man was leading a child, feeling irritable, but seeing the two frail-looking maidens, he hesitated. He couldn’t resort to force, and mere words might not get him anywhere.
The girl resumed her conversation with her maid, “Yan’er, should I smear some soot on my face?”
The maid covered her mouth, giggling, then glanced at the girl’s chest. The face could be disguised, but what about the chest? Even bound with cloth strips, her youthful curves were evident—March had come, clothes were thin, hardly enough to conceal anything. She whispered, “Why are you dressing up as a boy, miss?”
Leaning in, the girl whispered, “I want to enter the Eastern Palace.”
“But even if you become a boy, you can’t get into the Eastern Palace.”
Li Wei and Bie’er exchanged confused looks. What business did she have in the Eastern Palace?
“If I steal Father’s official seal, I can sneak in, can’t I? Yan’er, think of a way for me—how can I avoid drawing attention?”
So, another pampered daughter from a high-ranking family, bored and eager to slip into the Eastern Palace for adventure. Was it really so easy? The Eastern Palace wasn’t the Imperial Palace, but security was just as tight, especially now that Li Wei was overseeing state affairs.
Even with a seal, they would be discovered soon after entering.
Curious, he asked, “What do you want to do in the Eastern Palace?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“By chance, I know the Crown Prince. If you tell me, I might bring you in—no need for such...” He gestured at her blue scholar’s robe.
“Why should I trust you?”
Her vigilance was high; clearly, it wasn’t easy to fool her.
“Trust me if you wish, or don’t. It’s up to you,” Li Wei replied, turning to leave.
She grabbed him, demanding, “Who are you?”
No sooner had she touched him than several guards drew their swords and pressed the flat of their blades to her arm—she was just a weak girl, the guards used the flat to avoid harm. Otherwise, her wrist would have been lost.
“What are you doing?” the girl cried.
Li Wei waved his hand, “Don’t frighten her.” But seeing everyone’s gaze converge, he quickly turned to leave.
The girl glanced at him, then at the long queue ahead. She had just been given a piece of milk candy, soft and fragrant in her mouth, delicious. She decided to buy more for her parents and close sisters at home to share.
Reluctant to part with it, she darted forward and approached a woman who had just left the shop, saying, “Sell me your candy, five coins a piece.”
The woman was puzzled—why was this lovely young lady calling herself “me”? Then she realized: just a queue, and she’d gain three coins. The candy was essentially free, plus an extra coin. She agreed at once.
With a bag of milk candy, the girl chased after Li Wei, calling, “What’s your relationship to the Crown Prince? Which family are you from? Why have I never seen you before?”
The fake phoenix already aroused suspicion; her shout revealed his identity, and the eyes of those walking down the street all turned toward him.
Li Wei had to stop, saying, “As I said, if you tell me your purpose in the Eastern Palace, I will bring you in.”
“Fine, but you must tell me which family you belong to.”
“I’m afraid I must decline.”
“Then why should I believe you?”

“Then why should I bring you in?”
“Miss, let’s leave it. He doesn’t seem trustworthy,” Yan’er whispered, fearful of trouble, especially since this young man wasn’t alone—several strong men stood behind him, tugging at the girl’s sleeve.
This pair of mistress and maid was amusing. Li Wei changed tack, “Or, another condition. You claimed to be exceptionally talented—if you can answer a couplet I give you, I’ll bring you into the Eastern Palace.”
“Agreed!” the girl said, delighted.
Could she really be so talented? Li Wei was skeptical, then said, “Smoke along the eaves, smoke at the swallow’s eyes, swallows dislike smoke, smoke locks the willow by the pond.”
“What?”
Those behind heard clearly—a heap of ‘smoke’.
Li Wei took a small stick and wrote the line on a patch of earth. In truth, ‘Smoke locks the willow by the pond’ was already a celebrated couplet; only a later, forced attempt at matching it came close, but lacked elegance. The preceding phrase was even more intricate—smoke along the eaves, smoke at the swallow’s eyes, swallows dislike smoke. Even Confucius or Li Bai would struggle to answer.
Yet the scene painted was vivid—by the pond, a household cooking, smoke rising, a swallow’s nest under the eaves, the smoke bothering the swallows, their chirping loud. The owner ignored them, smoke thickening, enveloping the willows by the pond. Lively and full of charm.
The girl bent over to study it; the latter part was manageable, but the nine heaps of smoke made her eyes sting. No, even the last phrase wasn’t easy. She realized the five characters combined represented the five elements.
She pondered over it, as the crowd—always eager for excitement—gathered, asking, “What’s this?”
“A couplet,” Yan’er replied.
A couplet. At this time, couplets weren’t yet widespread, but scholars enjoyed exchanging lines to test each other. Prose and poetry alike valued parallelism.
Once the crowd realized it was a couplet, they clustered around to watch. But their expressions matched the girl’s—after a long while, she cried out, “You’re making things difficult!”
“You claimed to be exceptionally talented.”
“So what? You pose an impossible question—I can do that too! I’ll give an opening line, you answer it.”
“Alright,” Li Wei thought, history aside, couplets were his specialty.
A slippery opponent, but unprepared, he could only accept the challenge. Don’t think coming up with an opening line is easy—it must be clever and difficult. Looking around, he spotted a young nobleman carrying a bow, also pondering.
An idea struck, and he clapped his hands, “Got it! Crescent moon like a bow, waning moon like a bow, upper bow, lower bow.”
Two moons, four bows—cleverly conceived. The crowd applauded.
The girl, basking in their praise, waved her feather fan proudly.
Li Wei smiled and responded, “Spring thunder like a drum, autumn thunder like a drum, sounding drum, silencing drum.”
Since ancient times, drums were compared to thunder, but reversing it—thunder as drums—was novel. Two thunders, four drums, equally clever.
The crowd cheered again.
The girl, unconvinced, looked around, spotting a thin woman carrying a light load, sweating profusely despite the weight. She declared, “Light body, heavy load, light load, heavy body.”
At first, the crowd didn’t grasp it, but following her gaze, they understood and applauded once more.
This line was even more challenging than the last.
“Pride brings harm, humility brings benefit. Miss, your talent is impressive, but not quite ‘exceptional.’”
“What do you mean? If you’re so clever, answer my line!”

Li Wei tapped her head with his fan, saying, “Simple words with deep meaning, deep meaning with simple words—you didn’t even catch that. Too soon, too soon.”
With that, he turned to leave; the crowd was growing, and he feared recognition.
“Don’t go! You haven’t answered my line yet!” the girl protested.
Someone in the crowd spoke up, “Miss, he already answered.”
“He did?” She realized the phrase, ‘Simple words with deep meaning, deep meaning with simple words,’ was a perfect match and a gentle tease.
“Wait, don’t leave! I haven’t finished yet!” she insisted, stubborn.
But Li Wei dared not linger, asking, “What is your father’s name?”
If she dared to use a seal to enter the Eastern Palace, her family must hold high office.
“My father is Xu Qidan, Secretary of the Western Bureau!” she declared, chest proudly thrust forward.
The Secretary of the Western Bureau was recently akin to the Secretary of the Central Bureau—drafting imperial edicts and privy to secrets, a high-ranking official with real power, one of the capital’s elite. Xu Qidan’s reputation was good, giving the girl reason for pride.
Xu Qidan—wasn’t he the minister who advised last year against admitting nomads to the Eastern Palace? Li Wei had met him several times.
He said, “As I said, if you ever answer that couplet—even if you ask someone else for help—I will bring you into the Eastern Palace.”
That was fair—the capital teemed with talented scholars. She quickly realized, “If I answer it, how will I find you?”
He was about to leave; Yan’er couldn’t tie him up, nor could they manage his guards.
“If you manage it, tell your father—I’ll hear of it.”
“You know my father?”
“Yes.”
Just then, Old Jiang came by with his two sons, Jiang Wenquan and Jiang Wenchen, and their wives. Li Wei had met the Jiang brothers before, but this was the first time seeing their wives—both delicate and thin, likely from poor nutrition. There was also a middle-aged scholar, surely Liu Qun’s elder brother.
Li Wei walked over, saying, “Thank you all for your trouble.”
“Your High—” Jiang Wenquan caught himself, “How could we dare?”
They exchanged a few words; the Jiang brothers thanked Li Wei for the jade pendants he’d gifted them. Small though they were, coming from the royal family, they were clearly precious.
After a brief conversation, Li Wei said, “You all take care—I must return to the palace.”
They bowed respectfully in farewell.
Walking along, Li Wei pondered what other enterprises he might start. It was a headache; all families followed the clan system. The great houses held vast lands and businesses, managed by clan members not involved in officialdom. These ample funds allowed sons to study and travel at ease. Most officials in court came from these families—only the scale varied.
But whether it was the Jiang family or Liu Qun’s brother, their households were too small. Even with good things, they lacked the manpower to manage them—and Li Wei himself had to remain hidden.
Lost in thought, they reached the Yanxi Gate; beyond it, north lay the Eastern Palace, the Taiji Palace, and the Yeting Palace, south lay the Imperial City, the Three Departments, Six Ministries, Nine Temples, and other government offices.
Suddenly, Bie’er tugged Li Wei’s arm, “Your Highness, look.”
Li Wei turned to see Xu Qidan’s daughter and her maid stealthily tailing them.

PS: A mad dog named “Spending for Love” is biting at me, frantically spamming reader impressions and notes. Seriously? He’s also causing chaos in the reviews, making me furious. It’s ruined my mood. Everyone, remember: it’s better to offend a gentleman than a petty person—even if you’ve never met, no conflict. Take heed, take heed.