Chapter Six: The Cruelty of the World, Beauty Like Blossoms (Part Two)

In the afternoon, I ran into Liu Rengui, that brute. The moment we met, he said to me, “The Yang family is blessed; the imperial household favors you. But you mustn’t spoil the girl too much.”

“What right does he have to comment on our Yang family?” Lady Yang grumbled, then paused. The Tang dynasty was built on martial prowess, valuing warriors above scholars. The great generals—Cheng Zhijie, Su Dingfang, and Li Ji—had all passed away, and Xue Rengui suffered a disastrous defeat at Da Fei Chuan. Only Pei Xingjian and Liu Rengui remained as treasures of the realm, though even Pei Xingjian’s achievements paled beside Liu Rengui’s illustrious record.

Were Liu Rengui to throw a tantrum, not even Xu Jingzong, nor the Emperor and Empress themselves, could afford to ignore him.

“What are your thoughts? Don’t think others are fools. Min’er’s reluctance toward this marriage is clear to many outsiders. If word reaches the Emperor’s ears, our Yang family will be in trouble.”

“But... why would he say that?”

“I asked him the same. That old brute replied, ‘You know about the defeat at Da Fei Chuan?’ I said I did. He went on, ‘Since that defeat, the court officials have been full of opinions, but none matched the Crown Prince’s insight.’ I asked what the Prince had said. He refused to answer, merely sighed, ‘Such inner wisdom, such subtlety. I never imagined the Crown Prince’s intellect so profound. Truly, it is the fortune of the Tang dynasty. Soon, another ruler both scholarly and martial, like Taizong, will arise within our realm. Who dares doubt that a quiet bird will stun the world with its song? I’ll challenge anyone who does.’”

At this, Lady Yang and her son, General Chengyou of the Right Guard, grew curious. Even Yang Min, who had been sobbing, quieted down and peeked at her father through her fingers.

Lady Yang asked, “What did the Crown Prince say to earn such praise from that old brute?”

“I asked, but he would not tell. Regardless, the Crown Prince is far more complex than we imagined. That old brute has the sharpest eyes; only something truly impressive could win his admiration. That’s not our concern. What I want to discuss is whether we can withdraw from this marriage.”

Reluctantly, Lady Yang shook her head.

“Since we cannot, the Crown Prince’s reputation is growing. Xu Jingzong is his mentor, and now even the old brute speaks highly of him. If the Prince ascends the throne, will the old brute not give him full support? Who could shake the Prince’s position then? Min’er will be Crown Princess—is that not so? This brings both fortune and peril to our family. If all goes well, we may regain the glory we once had in the Sui dynasty. If not, the consequences will be worse than never having allied ourselves.”

Even the Empress can be deposed. If she falls, her family suffers greatly; history is full of such examples.

“Min’er, anyone who can earn such praise from that old brute, even if not Crown Prince, would still be worthy of you. Tomorrow, you and your brother should visit the Prince and see how he fares. After all, you are cousins by blood.”

Among all the officials, Pei Xingjian was best at rewarding talent, but to be esteemed by Liu Rengui—especially so highly—was extraordinary. He was not one to flatter the Prince; he would not even flatter Li Zhi or Wu Zetian. Would he flatter Li Hong? To sully his own name? Impossible!

Lady Yang’s expression grew somber.

…

Outside, the rain slowly ceased. Night was peaceful, and after the spring shower, the room grew cooler.

Wrapped in quilts, one felt warm and cozy.

It was perfect weather for sleep.

Yet Yang Sijian and his wife lay awake. Yang Sijian sat up, troubled. “My lady, I feel something bad is coming.”

“Don’t worry, my dear. Min’er is only fifteen. She’s still young, naive. She has already agreed to visit the Crown Prince tomorrow at the Eastern Palace.”

“I worry for her. Imperial power is unpredictable. When Father fell from favor, I was only nine; my second brother was even younger, and the third had just been born. Because Emperor Yang summoned Father and scolded him, Father chose suicide to protect the family. Mother fainted from grief, and even after her tears dried, she dared not utter a word of complaint. She begged our uncle to plead with Emperor Yang, pawned our estate to make connections. Even a minor official visiting from the capital had to be welcomed with a smile, only for Mother to cry herself to sleep with us three brothers in her arms. She endured for years, but eventually died in sorrow. Our Yang family’s survival to this day has not been easy. We are not the Wang family of Taiyuan, nor the Li, Cui, Zheng, or Lu clans—once fallen, fallen forever. If you want to know the weight of imperial power, look at the fate of the Chu and Changsun families. Can we compare ourselves to them?”

“Rest assured, my dear. Min’er may be young, but she is not truly ignorant. Who would have thought the Crown Prince hid such depths? You yourself were not pleased with this marriage before.”

“Even if I am displeased, I don’t show it as openly as you. Tomorrow, when Min’er visits, tell Chengyou to watch over her, not let her act out in the Eastern Palace.”

“I will. You have morning court tomorrow.”

“No, tomorrow you must go to Yongtai Temple and burn incense.”

“But you don’t believe in such things.”

…

“What I believe or not, it’s for peace of mind,” Yang Sijian said, lying down again. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep, until the third watch sounded from the street, and only then did he drift into a fitful slumber.

…

“Wake up, Your Highness,” Bie called.

“Let me sleep a bit longer,” Li Wei murmured, pulling the quilt closer.

Bie, both amused and exasperated, pulled the quilt away. Li Wei opened his eyes and jumped up. Morning brought its normal physiological response, but he quickly remembered—this was not his previous life; he was now in the Eastern Palace of the Tang dynasty. There was nothing about his body this little maid hadn’t seen already.

“Your Highness, may I say something?”

“Speak,” Li Wei said as he hurriedly dressed. The Eastern Palace was full of people, but apart from this girl, he exchanged fewer than a hundred words with others—excluding yesterday’s interrogation by Liu Rengui.

“Your Highness, though fate is determined by heaven, one must still strive. Without effort, even heaven won’t grant you opportunity.”

“Bie, what are you really trying to say? Don’t beat around the bush.”

“Well, Your Highness, this illness is difficult to cure, but the imperial physicians are skilled. You’ve been safe for years. Besides, your odd exercise routine lately—I’ve hardly heard you cough these days. These are good signs. Why do you despair now?”

Li Wei chuckled. “Bie, I suffer from soul-loss and forget many things. I’m slowly recalling them. I slept poorly last night—when did I despair?”

His words were half true, half false. So much had happened; like Yang Sijian, he’d barely slept last night and lingered in bed come morning. Yet his temperament was easygoing, and his worries had lessened—what could he do? He’d reached this point; all he could do was take things as they came.

“Then let’s run.”

“Alright, let’s run together.”

Their figures darted along the stone paths of the Eastern Palace.

Along the sides, flowers hung heavy with rain droplets, sparkling in the morning sun. The cool breeze brushed by, droplets fell from leaves, and the fleeting beauty stirred the heart.

“Bie, you’re becoming more and more like a housekeeper.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness. I only wish the best for you,” Bie suddenly knelt and pleaded.

Li Wei stopped. “Bie, what are you doing?”

“I know my lowly status, and shouldn’t meddle in your affairs, but I want you to recover soon.”

“I know you mean well—why kneel?”

“That last remark…”

“I was only joking. ‘Housekeeper’ is like the Steward of the Household, the Sub-Prefect of the Left Spring Chamber, the Intendant of the Inner Court, the Family Administrator of the Guard Temple—managing the family’s finances and affairs, and thus prone to ordering people about, making them do the right thing.”

Realizing her mistake, Bie smiled through her tears, stood up, patted her chest. “You scared me, but I’m not one to chatter needlessly. I just worry for the Crown Prince.”

“For you, Bie, I must strive to recover, right?” Li Wei smiled and resumed his run.

He spoke carelessly, but she took it to heart. The early morning stone paths were slick with rain, and Bie almost slipped, lost in her thoughts.

The sun rose high, and this peculiar sight in the Eastern Palace faded.

…

Breakfast was millet porridge, eggs, and pickled vegetables. Bie said, “Your Highness, may I learn your calligraphy?”

“Of course,” Li Wei replied, setting down his bowl and chopsticks to write as he explained. “The main thing is not to show too much sharpness. If you do, the characters may look beautiful, but too graceful and weak. The stroke must be slow, slow ink makes thick lines, giving a sense of ancient strength…”

“Your Highness, what are you writing?”

Without thinking, Li Wei wrote Qin Shaoyou’s ‘Magpie Bridge Immortal.’

“Don’t you know this is a lyric poem?” he said.

“But—such poems can’t be presented in grand halls,” Bie hesitated. If word got out that the Crown Prince composed lyric poems in the Eastern Palace, it might affect his reputation.

“Are rhapsodies and poems the same?”

“No.”

“They’re just different genres. The key is whether the writer’s heart is upright. If so, even lyric poems are noble works. If not, even poems and rhapsodies become vulgar. It’s like the law: for good officials, it’s a tool for statecraft; for cruel ones, it helps them exploit the people. Used rightly, it’s right; wrongly, it’s wrong. Bie, see, if you use this for singing, what would happen?”

Just then, a eunuch reported, “Your Highness, General of the Right Guard Yang Chengyou and Lady Yang request audience.”

“Who are they?”

The eunuch was surprised—everyone in the Eastern Palace knew the Crown Prince suffered from soul-loss and behaved oddly, running every day. Had he forgotten the Yang siblings as well?

Bie whispered, “Lady Yang is the Crown Princess-elect, chosen by Your Highness.”

His fiancée. He thought, well, he was nearly of age for his coming-of-age ceremony; it was normal to be engaged. Yet Tang customs were so liberal—fiancées could visit their betrothed before marriage?

He said, “Let them in.”

Yang Chengyou and Yang Min entered. Suddenly, they heard the palace maid singing:

“Delicate clouds weave their cunning, the flying stars convey longing, the Silver River spans the sky unseen. When golden wind and jade dew meet, it surpasses countless encounters in the mortal world.

Tenderness flows like water, the appointed time like a dream, how can one bear to look back at the magpie bridge? If love lasts long, why care for dawn and dusk?”

Yang Min’s selection as Crown Princess owed partly to family ties, partly to her appearance, and partly to her learning.

She was immediately struck by the elegance and grace of the lyrics, especially the last two lines, which opened up the poem and lingered in the mind.

She stopped in her tracks.

PS: Regarding Yang Sijian’s age, the historical records offer no exact answer. The Yang Xuangan incident happened forty-eight years earlier; Yang Sijian was the eldest son, and the Crown Princess could not have been an old maid (over fifteen is considered old), nor could he have fathered a child at sixty. So the assumption that Yang Sijian was nine when his father was in trouble should be close to accurate.

There is little information about the Yang girl and Helan Minzhi; Sima Guang described her in two words: peerless beauty. Some say it was Helan’s **, some say an affair. My judgment is based on the reactions of the parties. If it was **, Wu Zetian might have acted immediately. If it was an affair, even kinship wouldn’t have saved the Yang family from disaster. Yet after the incident, Wu Zetian hesitated, and only executed Helan after the palace maid of Princess Taiping was **. That cannot be true—how could a maid outrank the Crown Princess? Hence, the truth was that Taiping was seven, five years old at the time! So the truth between Helan and the Yang girl was likely half-hearted, with Helan as the aggressor; he even attracted his ninety-year-old grandmother, Lady Rongguo, with his looks. The Crown Prince suffered from tuberculosis. This, for a young girl, was also a fatal temptation.

The novel follows this reasoning and develops accordingly. Why was Helan so depraved? Keep reading. This time, I aim to correct past mistakes. The novel tells a story, not a lecture. If necessary, I’ll add a brief note at the end.