Chapter Forty-Three: Taiyi Zhongnan, Clouds Stirring Across the Eight Directions (Part Six)

Li Wei asked in a low voice, “What is it, and who are you?”

He didn’t recognize the newcomer, but then again, he didn’t know many people. The original Li Hong, due to his health and temperament, hadn’t known many either, though many knew him.

“I am a servant from the Duke of Zhou’s residence.”

The sharp ring of blades echoed—ten guards drew their swords in the blink of an eye.

Li Wei stopped them once more. “Let him speak.”

The visitor was startled by the bright blades, his face pale. After a moment to steady himself, he said, “I have come to report an urgent matter to Your Highness. This morning, Lady Xu from the West Court, Lady Pei from the Left Guard, Lady Yang from the Commander of the Imperial Guard’s residence, and the Crown Princess, accompanied by two servants and three maids, went to Mount Zhongnan.”

Li Wei knew Lady Xu, but not the other two girls. Still, this was a normal spring outing. Mount Zhongnan was not far from Chang’an, with good roads; a brisk ride would bring one from the foothills to the southern city gate in an hour. With Cold Food and Clear Brightness festivals combined, spring outings were common—most people walked, few rode horses or carriages.

If starting early, one could climb to the Viewing Platform, see the Scripture Lecture Terrace, the Alchemy Peak, the Great Tomb Mountain, the Pool of Supreme Goodness, and the Pool Gazing at Heaven—contemplate how the ancient sage once lectured on the Dao De Jing here. With luck, one might even glimpse a giant panda, called the Iron-Biting Beast, and return to Chang’an before sunset.

However, wealthy families—especially noble ladies—often chose to spend the night in the mountain temples, enjoying the scenery in the morning and returning leisurely at noon. He guessed Yang Min and her companions had chosen this.

Learning that Yang Min and the others were outside the city, and hearing mention of Helan Minzhi, Li Wei sensed trouble, but kept his voice steady. “Go on.”

“Yes, Your Highness. The Duke of Zhou happened to hear of this and, harboring ill intent, sent six or seven knights in a carriage to Mount Zhongnan, ready to seize the Crown Princess and bring her back to his residence for disgrace.”

Li Wei’s anger flared instantly.

The hatred for killing a husband, the agony of losing a wife—these are the deepest wounds a man can suffer. Though Yang Min was not yet his wife, their betrothal was established. If something happened and their marriage fell through, so be it. But for now, the bond existed.

If Yang Min suffered any mishap, he would be forced to hide his face in shame.

He was about to erupt in fury but quickly regained his composure.

He had never provoked Helan Minzhi. His own palace was entangled with his affairs, Yang’s residence had antagonized him, and the Hongwen Academy had challenged him. Rumors had been spread in the city. Such actions could be dismissed as brash, but to go so far as to kidnap the future Crown Princess for humiliation?

He asked, “Why would he do such a thing?”

“There is a reason, Your Highness, though I hesitate to say it.”

“Speak.”

The visitor glanced at the guards and Bie’er. Li Wei motioned them to step back. Only then did the man continue, “The Duke of Zhou lost his father early in childhood and depended on his mother, Lady Han, and his sister, Lady Wei. Later, the Empress elevated their family; Han and Wei entered the palace and were favored by the Emperor. But Lady Wei was cunning and restless. Over three years ago, after a visit to the palace, news came at midday that she had suddenly died of illness. Then, a year later, Lady Han, still vigorous, also died of sickness. Since then, the Duke of Zhou has been gloomy. While Lady Rong was alive, she kept him under her authority. However…”

“However what?” Li Wei asked, shocked. He finally understood Helan Minzhi’s antagonism—he resented his mother, and Li Wei and his siblings were her children.

The servant spoke objectively. Han and Wei had not been in the palace for just a year or two; it had been several years. Even Helan Minzhi himself was nearly twenty-nine. His mother had permitted their entry, tacitly approving the arrangement. After all, with other consorts in the palace, keeping family close was preferable.

Perhaps they died of illness; perhaps his mother was responsible. Why wait years to act? Not because she couldn’t tolerate it, but because Lady Wei had grown unruly. Youthful and beautiful, seeing his mother wield great power, she became ambitious. Her scheming could not escape his mother’s notice.

In terms of political maneuvering, through the ages, among billions of people, his mother would rank among the top ten. Thus the sudden palace deaths.

But it didn’t end there—his niece’s betrayal, his son’s opposition and irresponsibility, childhood bullying by half-brothers and cousins, the confinement and darkness of the palace intrigues, all deprived his mother of affection and light, leaving her to walk alone in a night full of thorns.

Thus, a ruthless empress was forged.

Yet Li Wei felt relief amid the shock. Like an illness: if terminal, one prepares for death. If curable and the cause is found, it can be treated. The worst is lingering sickness without a known cause.

The visitor continued, “I also heard rumors in the residence that Lady Rong and the Duke of Zhou were… involved.”

The word refers to illicit relations, its origin describing rising heat—imaginative minds twisted its meaning to improper liaisons.

Li Wei’s mind reeled, his heart pounding, eyes bulging. Lady Rong had died months before he arrived, aged ninety-one—ninety-two by modern reckoning. Helan Minzhi himself was not yet thirty.

“Involved?”

“Yes, the whole residence talks about it. Even the Duke’s wives and concubines are dissatisfied, but fear Lady Rong’s power and dare not speak.”

Li Wei finally understood. Two close relatives died mysteriously—the reason hardly matters. The palace was dark and treacherous. If his mother hadn’t acted, Lady Wei might have grown powerful and his mother would share the fate of Queen Wang and Consort Xiao. There was no right or wrong, only victor and vanquished. From Helan’s viewpoint, his mother was at fault.

And to spend every night with an elderly woman of eighty or ninety—anyone would become twisted after years of such torment.

The visitor went on, “I was deeply worried when I heard of it, but dared not report to the authorities. Hearing Your Highness was outside inspecting the people, I rode for more than an hour before finding you.”

Helan Minzhi’s madness did not mean all his followers would share it. Li Wei said, “You have done well. When I return, you will be amply rewarded.”

“I do not dare.”

Li Wei said no more. It was past midday; the road was crowded, so Helan Minzhi would not dare act. Even at the Viewing Platform, the mountain paths would be swarming with visitors—still too risky. Only if they wandered to some secluded spot would danger arise.

He shouted, “Bie’er, take a guard and return to notify the authorities. Do not inform the palace guards; simply report that the Crown Prince and Princess are in trouble at Mount Zhongnan and urge swift rescue.”

Today the authorities were on holiday, and since Helan Minzhi was involved, it would be better to call for help directly from the palace.

“Impossible,” the visitor protested at once.

“Why?”

“Your Highness, the Duke of Zhou is mad and disregards propriety, but you are the Crown Prince. This is an internal affair of the royal family—a scandal. If word spreads, the Empress will be displeased, and the Crown Princess’s reputation will be tarnished. These men are merely idle knights, but Your Highness’s guards are strong and armed… The rescue is urgent.”

In the Tang Dynasty, martial prowess was valued over letters; knights and assassins were rampant. Li Shidao dispatched such men to kill the Prime Minister Wu Yuanheng and nearly assassinated Pei Du. The military governor Gao Pian, fearing Zheng Tan would use knights against him, slept in a separate wing dressed as a woman. Yet, they were not entirely useless; when the Tibetans invaded Chang’an, Sun Quanxu sent his old general Wang Fu to infiltrate the city, rallying a gang of ruffians, who, beating drums and shouting, “The imperial army has entered the city!” caused the Tibetan forces to panic and flee. Chen Ang’s father, Chen Yuanjing, was a knight himself, so Chen Zi’ang’s bold nature was inherited. The poet Li Bai was also a knight in his youth and had killed several people in defense of the weak.

Li Wei, however, knew nothing of this.

Besides, the military system was based on the militia—farming in peacetime, training when idle, fighting in war. The court gave each soldier twenty-five coins, but horses, mules, weapons—swords, bows, axes—all were self-provided. As “The Ballad of Mulan” says: Buy a fine horse in the east market, a saddle in the west, a bridle in the south, a long whip in the north...

Thus, the ten guards came equipped with swords and bows. Apart from not wearing armor to avoid drawing attention, they carried plenty of weapons for Li Wei’s protection. In these times, only a few weapons were regulated, most were not forbidden, so it was not conspicuous.

To call these knights generously was to say they were six or seven petty ruffians. Ten guards, carefully chosen and armed, would suffice; to return to the capital for reinforcements would only publicize royal scandal, damage Yang Min’s reputation, and show Li Wei as weak.

If not for his frail health, he could have dealt with six or seven ruffians alone.

Thinking this, he said, “Thank you for your warning.”

Time was short. Mount Zhongnan was not far by horse, but with crowds of tourists and many scenic spots surrounding the Lecture Terrace, one had to search carefully.

He forgot to ask the visitor’s name.

He called out, “To horse! We ride for Mount Zhongnan!”

The guards were still confused, but the Crown Prince had mentioned danger for the Crown Princess. He was safe here—surely she was in trouble at Mount Zhongnan, the future Crown Princess, likely to become Empress.

They mounted at once, even Bie’er forgot her nervousness, spurring her horse swiftly toward Mount Zhongnan.