Chapter Fifty-Nine: Seeking Affairs at the Duke’s Residence, Parting by the Wei River (Part Two)

Spring had grown thick and lush, but the River Wei was pitifully meager, with much of the riverbanks exposed on both sides. The shallowness of the water left some of the grain boats, transported from the Yangtze and Huai, stranded on the sandbanks, as their drafts were too deep. Crews had to unload the grain onto other, lighter vessels.

This scene was but a microcosm of the vast Guanzhong Plain. If one were to take flight along the Wei, swiftly surveying both banks, one would see many channels dried up, and even some plains cracked with drought.

A small black-sailed boat was moored at the dock.

Di Renjie stood on the dock, speaking with Wei Yuanzhong and a few others, rather than boarding the boat. He did not have many friends; he was but a minor legal official, hastily escorting grain to the capital and departing just as hurriedly—not someone the capital’s illustrious nobles would bother to see off.

After a while, a carriage rolled into view.

Wei Yuanzhong straightened and said solemnly, “They are here.”

He had originally only admired the reputations of Di Hui and Di Hao, but now he could not help but respect them. Knowing Di Renjie’s intentions—and with the beauty and talent of these two young women—once admitted into the Eastern Palace, it was certain neither would become Crown Princess, not even a consort. But when the Crown Prince ascended the throne, they could easily become cherished beauties, perhaps even ranked as court ladies, and if favored, might rise among the nine ranks of imperial concubines. Of course, this depended on the Crown Prince’s affection, and also on what heights Di Renjie himself might reach.

As for courtesans—Wei Yuanzhong dared not even imagine such a fate.

The two beautiful maidens, veiled, alighted from the carriage and moved gracefully toward them, bowing. “Greetings, foster father, and Scholar Wei.”

“Rise,” Di Renjie said, offering a gentle hand. “No one noticed you, I trust?”

“We were very careful,” they replied. “Only our two personal maids took some of our clothes and jewelry from the residence. Not even the old madams know where we have gone.” As they spoke, they took their luggage—large and small—off the carriage.

Di Renjie cared little for such things. The girls were in the bloom of youth and beauty; he could demand a life of austerity from them, but there was no need to order them to abandon all of their own belongings.

He called over a boatman to help load their luggage onto the boat.

As Di Hui and Di Hao saw their belongings stowed, they turned in unison to gaze back at Chang’an, uncertain if they would ever return.

Noticing their unfamiliarity, Di Renjie misunderstood and grew displeased. “You are my foster daughters, but you do not truly understand my circumstances. I am a legal official from Bingzhou, and my family is not of noble birth, though we have served as officials for generations. My grandfather was Left Minister during the Zhenguan era; my father served as Prefect of Kuizhou. I myself entered officialdom by ranking highly in the Mingjing examinations.”

“We have heard the Crown Prince speak of your integrity and scholarship, foster father. We are honored to be taken in by you.”

“There is no need for such praise,” Di Renjie replied. “I wish only to make one thing clear. Though not born to a great clan, my family is one of officials, and our household is strict—unlike some nobles in the capital who have adopted the ways of the Hu and live without restraint.”

“Foster father, if we have done wrong, we beg your forgiveness. Though our origins are humble, our conduct has been proper,” Di Hui and Di Hao protested, startled.

“I do not say you have erred. But as my foster daughters, you must do even better, and you must not yearn for the luxury of the capital.”

Di Renjie knew he was demanding much, but it was necessary. Were they truly his foster daughters, he would be less concerned. But he intended to return them to the palace, and even if their names were cleared, their beauty and fame in the capital meant too many people knew them. Sending them into the palace would not be easy, and if anything went wrong, he himself would not escape blame.

“We understand, foster father,” they said.

“It is not that you have erred, only that you must be vigilant,” he said, lowering his voice. “You must never follow the example of the Yang family. Their daughter was renowned for her beauty, and though she was the Crown Prince’s cousin, her prospects now seem bleak.”

He had sensed something was amiss in recent days, and after reading that dossier, his suspicions were confirmed. Lying in bed, he pondered the future, though clarity eluded him. One thing, however, was certain: Yang Min’s prospects had grown dim.

Di Hui had met Yang Min’s brother but never the girl herself. Yet the matter had caused such a stir that the public’s opinion was not to be underestimated. Whispers about Yang Min’s past with the Crown Prince had surfaced. Though she later reformed, the people still harbored some resentment.

She was beautiful, and in a few more years might have become a true enchantress.

But the position of Crown Princess was another matter—the future Empress, the mother of the nation, required not only beauty but, more importantly, virtue. Yang Min may not have been entirely lacking in virtue—otherwise she would not have been considered for Crown Princess—but if she had never been close with Helan Minzhi, or if she had treated the Crown Prince better when he was ill, perhaps things would be different.

Some even said the Crown Prince’s reckless journey to rescue her from Zhongnan Mountain had not been worth the risk. In all the realm, there was no shortage of fine women.

They had heard some of these rumors. Still, neither aspired to become Crown Princess, nor could they compare with the Yang family’s rank. If not for the Crown Prince, they would not have drawn attention at all. In truth, they felt sympathy for the Yang maiden—she was a victim, and there was no need to heap further blame upon her.

Nevertheless, the lesson was plain. “Foster father, your admonition is just.”

With nothing more to say, he turned to usher them aboard—when suddenly, a cloud of dust rose in the distance. A gust of wind thinned the haze, revealing a company of Imperial Guards escorting a carriage toward them.

As the carriage drew near and halted, Li Wei stepped out.

He approached Di Renjie with a bow. “I heard you depart today, sir, and hastened to see you off.”

“Your Highness, you honor me too greatly. Besides—”

“I know,” Li Wei replied. “Though I am ‘ill,’ you are both mentor and friend to me, traveling a thousand miles to the capital and back. How could I not come to bid you farewell?” Then, in a low voice, he added, “Though there was a plan, it pales beside yours.”

“Your Highness,” Di Renjie, though calm by nature, was nearly moved to tears by these words. Collecting himself, he said, “You treat me as a gentleman, and I must return the courtesy.”

“You already have, sir.”

“Not at all. But since Your Highness is here, I have a word I would offer in parting.”

“Please, speak.”

“Since His Majesty has summoned you to the Eastern Capital, it is a fine opportunity. Set your affairs in order here. If His Majesty learns of your grave illness and you are called to the Grand Sacrifice, then depart for the Eastern Capital at once.”

“Why?” Li Wei was puzzled. He looked forward to seeing his father Li Zhi and mother Wu Zetian, but he was also deeply anxious. He was unfamiliar with all the rites and classics, and while his feigned illness could fool others, could it deceive the woman who had raised him—a mother whose wisdom was second to none?

He felt hope mixed with apprehension.

“It is difficult to explain in a word, and I can only guess,” Di Renjie said. He could not say more. His suspicions had grown after reading that dossier. His plan was to muddy the waters—if it succeeded, so much the better; if not, he could withdraw without arousing suspicion. Moreover, the Empress’s absence from the capital made things easier. At least, for a time, all would be calm. Otherwise, she might see through everything, even if she could not solve the case outright.

But though the Crown Prince was admirable, he was still young and impulsive. If he found out and confided in someone he saw often, that person might become even more uneasy, and with his abilities, could quietly cause much trouble. Di Renjie’s own influence was limited, and with him away from the capital, it was better not to tell the Prince until a better solution was found.

He said again, “Please trust me, Your Highness.”

Li Wei still felt uneasy, but seeing that Di Renjie had said all he would, and being mild in temperament, he simply said, “I will take your advice, sir.”

At this, he clapped his hands, and Bi’er brought over a scroll. Li Wei said, “I have nothing else to offer as you depart. I heard that when you served in Bianzhou, your uprightness offended petty men, who slandered you. Thanks to Lord Yan’s intervention, your name was cleared. You have always been grateful to him. By chance, I have a painting of Lord Yan in the Eastern Palace, which I now present to you.”

This, truly, was a gift.

“Your Highness,” Di Renjie bowed deeply, moved.

“No need, sir,” Li Wei quickly raised him, taking the opportunity to whisper, “Sir, I am still young, and you are in your prime. In time, we might achieve something remarkable together.”

“Indeed!” Di Renjie was so invigorated it was as if he had drunk ten bottles of elixir; his eyes gleamed like Sun Wukong leaping from the alchemical furnace, his gaze piercing and bright.

Composure was a façade—they had worked so hard to draw close to the Crown Prince for precisely this moment.

Yet, though Li Wei held the title of Crown Prince, he was constrained on all sides, wandering in a fog. Di Renjie’s arrival was a beacon of guidance. Their exchange felt like the meeting of Zhuge Liang and Liu Bei at Longzhong.

Di Renjie asked, “Has the decree for the Eastern Capital arrived?”

“No.”

“There’s no need to worry, Your Highness. When His Majesty issued that decree, he intended to resolve the matter leniently. Later, nothing more was heard—until your letter reached the Eastern Capital and angered the Empress, prompting her to change her mind. But the longer this case drags on, the greater the public resentment, making it harder for His Majesty to protect the Duke of Zhou. The longer it lasts, the more it favors Your Highness. Besides—”

“I am in no hurry,” Li Wei replied. He too had been pondering in the Eastern Palace, and his thoughts were much like Di Renjie’s. Yet few knew he had written to Wu Zetian, so even Dai Zhide was uncertain of Li Zhi and Wu Zetian’s intentions.

“But if the guards press you as planned, you must be careful.”

Li Wei smiled, gesturing to the guards behind him. Once bitten, twice shy—even for such a secret farewell, he had brought a company of guards.

“Then I am reassured. Your Highness, you should return soon.”

Li Wei nodded—however far one accompanies a friend, a parting must come. Besides, he was supposed to be gravely “ill”; it would not do to linger. He stepped before Di Hui and Di Hao and said, “Take care, young ladies.”

“We thank Your Highness for your rescue,” the two beauties replied, bowing. But as they watched Li Wei board his carriage again, they remained rooted to the spot, unmoving.

Di Renjie stroked his beard and suddenly understood why they had looked back toward Chang’an earlier. He was pleased. With that, a smile on his face, he went to them. “Di Hui, Di Hao, there is no need to look any longer.”

The two girls uttered a soft assent and shyly lowered their heads.

Di Renjie continued, “Once this matter has blown over, I will see what I can do to arrange for you to enter the Eastern Palace again—openly and honorably, this time. Would you be willing?”

“We would,” they answered, joy lighting their faces.

As they finished speaking, they turned once more to the ancient road. The dust clouds had faded into the distance, the carriage vanished beyond the horizon. In the far distance, spring clouds hung low, flowers blossomed throughout the brocade city, and they could not help but fall into a wistful daze.