Chapter Thirty-Five: Bold Xu Li and the Spiritual Swallow

"Ignore her," Li Wei said, and walked into the Yanxi Gate. Still, he couldn't help but think to himself—who would have expected that the upright old Comrade Xu would have such a lovely daughter, albeit a rather fiery one. The Tang Dynasty truly was a good era, with no shortage of beauties. With that thought, he no longer felt like running away.

Behind him, Xu Li was equally baffled. She turned to Yan'er and asked, "How did they just walk in? Why didn't the guards stop them?"

"Young lady, perhaps he is also an official of the court," Yan'er replied.

That was possible. There were indeed a few young officials in each department, but their numbers were very limited. Especially someone of Li Wei's age—though he claimed twenty, by the counting of years he was barely eighteen.

"But they weren't wearing official robes," observed Xu Li.

Indeed, even officials had to wear formal attire to conduct business inside.

"No matter. I'll ask Father when we get home. Besides, I need to compose a truly challenging quatrain to stump that arrogant fellow."

Yan'er stifled a laugh behind her hand, thinking, Who's really the arrogant one here? He never claimed to be supremely talented—you were the one boasting. Suddenly, a thought struck her. "Could he be the Crown Prince himself?"

"That can't be," Xu Li said doubtfully. Yet the more she considered it, the more plausible it seemed. Her real reason for visiting the Eastern Palace was to see if the Crown Prince was as outstanding as the rumors claimed. If he really were the Crown Prince… The thought left her dismayed.

"No, I must ask Father." Of course, if Li Wei could enter the Yanxi Gate, even if Yang Min knew she was to be Crown Princess, she would still need to announce herself before being admitted—Li Wei, however, could proceed directly. The decision to grant an audience lay with him. Xu Li herself could not go in.

Anxious, she paced back and forth. Yan'er said, "Maybe it's just a misunderstanding."

"Impossible. Who else but the Crown Prince could possess such learning?"

Then why didn't you think of that earlier? Yan'er couldn't help but pout.

But Yan'er was clever. After a moment's thought, she said, "Let's go to the Yang residence."

Xu Li's father wouldn't return until evening, but if they hurried to Yang Min's house and described Li Wei's appearance, they could quickly ascertain whether he was the Crown Prince. With that, they hailed a carriage and set off for Yang Min's home. Yan'er again covered her mouth, hiding a smile—could it be that her brilliant and beautiful young lady had truly set her heart on the Crown Prince?

The carriage rattled through clouds of dust. Trees on either side of the road were casting dappled shade, like emerald mist rising before the grand residences. The earth beneath was still somewhat damp, but after a long dry spell, the dust was thick upon the road.

At the Yang residence, after announcing themselves, Lady Yang said, "You're looking for Min'er? She's gone to the Eastern Palace."

Yan'er asked, "What shall we do now, young lady?"

"Back to the Yanxi Gate," Xu Li replied.

"Again? We still can't get in."

"We'll just notify the guards directly that I wish to see the Crown Prince."

Yan'er clapped her hand over her mouth in astonishment. After a long pause, she said, "Isn't that a bit forward, young lady?"

"He wrote of feather fans and silk kerchiefs—at a laugh, enemy fleets vanish in smoke. If he can be so bold in poetry, why can't I be bold in seeking him out?"

Yan'er dared not reply, privately thinking, Young lady, you’re bolder than the hero of that poem himself.

The carriage rolled on for a while before Xu Li suddenly called out, "Stop."

"What's wrong now, young lady?"

"Let's go back and finish that couplet. There are talented people all over Chang'an. Anyway, that so-called Crown Prince—genuine or not—did say I could seek help. I don't believe I can't solve it."

This time, however, she would come up against something truly uncanny...

...

"Your Highness, I have heard some rumors about this Miss Xu," said Biyer.

"Is she so famous?" Li Wei asked.

"Indeed. She has been gifted since childhood and is adept at the arts—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. She is one of Chang'an's renowned beauties and is said to greatly resemble her aunt."

"Her aunt?"

"That would be the Lady Xu, favored consort of Emperor Taizong," Biyer clarified.

Worried Li Wei might have forgotten, Biyer added, "Xu Chongrong was almost unmatched among women in talent and intelligence. At eight, she composed a poem: 'Gazing up at the secluded cliff, her eyes wandered; caressing laurel branches, she mused. To meet after a thousand years—why must she go alone?' She entered the palace at eleven, and in Emperor Taizong's later years, he cherished her above all others. After his passing, she died two years later. His Majesty posthumously named her Worthy Consort and buried her at Zhaoling."

Li Wei knew a little of Xu Hui, this celebrated Xu. The poem was clearly an imitation of "Li Sao," though not on the same level. Like so many early Tang poems, it was ornate but somewhat hollow—yet as the work of an eight-year-old girl, it was remarkable.

He had not realized that Xu Qidan was the brother of the famed Xu Hui.

Biyer continued, "This young lady is named Xu Li. Though her talent is a shade less than Xu Chongrong's, she is still remarkable. And with her stunning beauty, she's a celebrated maiden of Chang'an, with many suitors."

"Her talent is adequate," Li Wei said, not wishing to be too critical. To respond to a situation with such flawless couplets on the spot was no small feat.

"Should we request His Majesty to make her a secondary consort or court lady?"

"And why would you suggest that?"

"Your Highness, your own talents are so great—if joined with such a lady, it would be truly perfect."

"You silly girl. I am the Crown Prince, not a poet." Still, it was impossible not to feel a flicker of interest. But such things could not be rushed: the world is wide, and there are many fine women in the Tang Empire. Whether he would have the fortune to enjoy such blessings would depend on when his parents returned to Chang'an, and on their attitude toward him. The abnormal behavior of Xu Yanbo made him uneasy.

Upon reaching the Eastern Palace, he saw Yang Min sitting on a rock before the bedchamber, holding a small paper box with some insects she must have caught from somewhere. Two little swallows flitted about inside—one would swoop down, snatch a bug from midair, then, finding no danger, return for another.

Seeing Li Wei return, Yang Min set the box on the stone and rose to bow. Then she watched the swallows, their curiosity and wariness mingled, and laughed merrily.

She was, after all, only fourteen or fifteen; Li Wei's heart softened again. "When did you come to the Eastern Palace?" he asked.

"I've been here a while. I heard that these swallows in the palace are said to understand people, so I had the servants catch some insects to feed them."

Whether the birds were truly clever was debatable. Fed by palace people often enough, they'd simply grown bold, conditioned to expect food. Now, they were no longer afraid of humans—much like the pigeons in modern city squares.

But Li Wei looked at Yang Min with an ambiguous smile.

She grew uneasy and, after a moment, said, "I lied to Your Highness. My mother sent me to visit you, but I felt I was coming too often, so I used this as an excuse."

Her honesty pleased Li Wei. He also recalled the reason for her previous coldness toward Li Hong—likely her mother resented Li Hong's illness and was dissatisfied. Though children matured early in those days, she was only fifteen, not yet fully grown. A mother's words and hints would naturally influence Yang Min.

Now, seeing the political wind shift, they were steering a new course. As for Helan Minzhi, though an excellent match, he was already married with several concubines. If Yang Min grew close to him, how could she conduct herself in the future? Realizing this, Li Wei regretted his earlier visit to the Yang residence all the more.

Still, Li Wei's thinking was not entirely fair—he himself had no desire to remain a Crown Prince with an uncertain future, and her parents would hardly want their daughter to marry a man with a chronic illness. Perspective changed everything. Had his health not improved, had his reputation not risen, had the family not feared association, Lady Yang would hardly have changed her mind. It was a bit mercenary, but what woman was untouched by such considerations?

Seeing Li Wei silent, Yang Min became anxious. "I've been having nightmares these past nights," she said, "dreaming that Your Highness no longer wanted me." She finished in tears.

It's not up to me, Li Wei thought. I've already planned to flee—it's all up to my parents' intentions. He handed her a handkerchief and changed the subject. "How is your injury?"

"The wound has scabbed over. Your Highness, may I see your hand?"

Li Wei held out his hand. The wound was deep, and though bandaged in white silk, traces of blood had seeped through. She blew gently on it, childlike, and said, "Your Highness, it's all my fault—I caused you harm." Her eyes filled with tears again.

He looked at Yang Min—her beauty undeniable, with her oval face, bright, lively eyes, and translucent skin, though still tinged with childishness. Another thought crept into his mind: in a few months, if he had guessed wrong, he might be married off—would he really be sharing a bed with this little girl, or perhaps several little girls...?

He shook off the thought. "It's a trifling injury. But have you considered—how many Crown Princesses in history have ever raised a sword against their own heart?"

"I was wrong," she said softly, bowing her head.

"Let's go inside."

Following him into the chamber, she produced a square kerchief. Since Xu Li and her companions left two days ago, they'd fought over it all day yesterday, and finally finished embroidering it. "I embroidered this for you, based on the poem you composed before leaving. I couldn't manage to write a poem worthy of Your Highness, but at least my needlework is presentable."

To write poems like his—why, even of those already circulated, at least three would rank among the top hundred in all Tang poetry. He felt no guilt at all for his plagiarisms. He accepted the kerchief. "Thank you."

"It was my duty," she replied.

He invited her to sit. Biyer seemed about to speak, and Li Wei asked, "What is it, Biyer?"

"Does Your Highness wish to bathe?"

The Tang people had no bath gel or shampoo—such things still awaited invention by Li Wei himself. But they placed great importance on bathing: every household had a large water barrel, and public bathhouses abounded in the wards. Li Hong had been a stickler for cleanliness, and the habit persisted—Li Wei now bathed at least twice daily for exercise. It was his one true luxury so far.

Though it was only early March and not especially warm, the days had been unusually sunny and Li Wei had worked up a sweat.

He had not thought of anything else at first and nodded his assent. The servants were efficient—hot water was brought in no time. Only then did he realize why Biyer had hesitated, but he still said, "Miss Yang, would you step outside for a moment?"

Somewhat reluctantly, Yang Min understood that as a proper young lady, she should leave such matters to the maidservants.

But after a moment's hesitation, Yang Min whispered, "Let me help Your Highness bathe."

Was the Tang dynasty so open? Li Wei nearly scratched his head in surprise. "Do you know how?"

"In the future, I must attend to Your Highness," she said, blushing furiously. She summoned her courage and added, "If it's too embarrassing, let Biyer serve you while I observe and learn."

Two lovely young girls to assist him in bathing? Li Wei felt a rush of heat to his head—this was luxury beyond his wildest dreams, in two lifetimes. Should he accept? He found himself at a loss.

As he hesitated, Yang Min's fair, delicate hands reached forward to unfasten his robe. Seeing the future Crown Princess about to assist the Crown Prince in his bath, the eunuchs and maids in the chamber discreetly withdrew. The robe slipped from his shoulders...