Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Grand Wedding of the Princess — Shangguan Wan’er (Part One)

After pondering for a while, unable to come up with an answer, he asked, “Then, Eunuch Wang, what about the Grand Rain Sacrifice?”

“Your Highness, why are you still thinking about the Grand Rain Sacrifice? Do you intend to overshadow the Field Sacrifice?”

“No, I’m just puzzled. There’s no mention of it in the imperial edict.”

“Perhaps His Majesty simply overlooked it.” At this point, Wang Caiyan forced a bitter smile. Not only might the emperor have been so enraged as to forget, but had any of the ministers in court thought to ask? In such turbulent times, who would dare to touch this unlucky business?

“In fact, not presiding over the Grand Rain Sacrifice may be for the best.”

“Exactly. Recently, His Majesty’s health has improved somewhat. If the Grand Rain Sacrifice is held, it can take place in the Eastern Capital. Whether it happens or not has nothing to do with Your Highness. For you, this is all benefit and no harm.”

“Yes.” This was, after all, his main reason for feigning illness, though there was no need to tell Wang Caiyan everything.

“Your Highness, I’ll take my leave now. All you need to remember is one word—filial piety. With that, you’ll turn misfortune into blessing.”

Having seen Wang Caiyan off, he reminded him again and again to be careful.

In the past, reading history, he’d smiled and passed by such things. Only by living through them did he understand their taste. His father was by no means a simple man, and his mother was even more mysterious and cunning. For Wang Caiyan to play a few tricks under the watchful eyes of both these formidable elders for his sake was no easy task.

He allocated another thousand strings of cash, for him to continue his work.

If the palace maids and eunuchs around Li Zhi and Wu Zetian spoke well of him, it would be more effective than expressing loyalty himself.

Immediately, he summoned Yao Yuanchong and Ximen Chong to discuss the matter. Though he didn’t understand Goldbach’s Conjecture, there were always exceptional men who could solve parts of the puzzle; for him, however, it remained a riddle.

He explained everything in detail, and the two men fell into deep thought.

After a while, Yao Yuanchong spoke. “Your Highness, His Majesty was furious.”

“Master Yao, it was more than just fury.”

“But Your Highness need not worry about going to the Eastern Capital. The case against Helan Minzhi for defying His Majesty is untenable. Though noble in rank, he is not an important minister. Once this matter passes, it will dissipate like smoke. If Your Highness is concerned, you can add a weight—bring the little princess to the Eastern Capital with you.”

“What about the princess’s studies?”

“Your Highness, you are the future of the realm. The princess’s education can continue in due time. Besides, there are great scholars in the Eastern Capital, and with the Empress herself overseeing her, she might learn no less than at the Academy. Before her recent troubles, Princess Li Lingyue was notorious for her mischief at the Academy—she was the true queen bee of the lower grades. If the weather grows hotter, the Academy might even assign a scholar to fan her as she studies. It’s better to take her to the Eastern Capital, where she can serve as your shield.”

But the next issue was more troubling.

Regarding the Empress, none of them could have anticipated she would one day become Emperor herself, but all at their level knew her prowess. From within the palace, among concubines and consorts, to high ministers and chancellors outside, how many had tried to crush her? The edict to depose her had already been written—just one night away from being read out at court. Yet in the end, none succeeded in destroying the Empress; instead, time and again, she defeated her enemies with swift precision.

Besides, a woman is not necessarily malicious, but her heart is often less broad than a man’s. The Emperor is a capable ruler, and his heart is certainly broader than the Empress’s. Making the Crown Prince regent already shows he is considering the future of the country.

Yet one dare not say it aloud: it is safer to stand on the Empress’s side.

But what if the Emperor’s mood darkens? And don’t forget, Li Xian has come of age—he’s talented, quick to memorize, wide in friendships, even broader than the Crown Prince, and in better health. In many ways, he’s reminiscent of Prince Wei, Li Tai. But unlike Li Tai, who undermined his elder brother, Li Xian shows great respect for the Crown Prince. In appearance, Li Tai was plump and broad, but Li Xian is refined and handsome—combining all of Li Tai’s virtues and none of his faults.

For him to become Crown Prince would not be out of the question.

Never mind that the Crown Prince is the eldest son among Wu Zetian’s surviving children; among the Emperor’s children, he is not the eldest, and the Emperor himself was not chosen by primogeniture.

Because of this outstanding “reserve,” Yao Yuanchong and Ximen Chong dared not make a decision.

There was also Xu Jingzong, whom the Crown Prince had underestimated. Even if Xu Jingzong only had a year or two left to live, in that time, if he were to conspire against the Crown Prince, it would be difficult to handle. The two men exchanged a knowing glance but did not speak of it. The Crown Prince already had enough pressure—no need to burden him further before he left for the Eastern Capital.

After a while, Yao Yuanchong said, “Your Highness, you had best focus on organizing the wedding for the two princesses. Leave these strategies to us. If worst comes to worst, I’ll write a letter to Bingzhou and consult with Di Facao. Besides, His Majesty has not specified when you must go to the Eastern Capital. If the plans aren’t ready... well, Your Highness is still ill, after all.”

Everyone laughed.

This illness was a wonderful excuse, a wild card with many uses.

……

Helan Minzhi was taken away by the officers, and Li Wei no longer needed to act so woeful; at least he didn’t need to powder his face for effect.

He began organizing the weddings for his two half-sisters.

He had been in this era for a long time now—over forty days. He was most familiar with the Eastern Palace, had visited Daming Palace often, but had rarely set foot in Taiji Palace, except perhaps to escort Li Lingyue to the Academy, which didn’t truly count as Taiji Palace proper. Only beyond the Hall of Supreme Harmony and the Gate of Duality did one enter the true precincts of Taiji Palace.

There was another palace he had never visited: Yeting Palace, slightly smaller than the Eastern Palace, situated to the west of Taiji Palace. It was mainly the residence for palace maids and the place where women from officials’ families, sentenced for crimes, were sent to work. In the north stood the Granary, to the southwest the Service Department, and in the northeast, the Hall of Many Arts.

The two princesses resided in Yeting Palace. If the former Crown Prince had not, out of compassion, visited Yeting Palace after noticing the poor meals of the guards—thus taking the opportunity to look into the lives of palace maids and servants—Princess Yiyang and Princess Xuancheng might have been confined for years more.

Now that Wu Zetian was publicly arranging their weddings, it was impossible for them to remain in Yeting Palace; they would be moved to Taiji Palace. Residences in Chang’an had to be vacated and renovated for their future husbands. Thus, Li Wei found himself shuttling between Yeting Palace and Taiji Palace.

In truth, he was curious, and this gave him a perfectly legitimate reason.

The wedding date drew near.

The two princesses were considered difficult cases, marrying late for their status. The news stirred both sighs and sympathy among the people. As the clouds of worry over Chang’an began to lift, the approach of a great religious ceremony coincided with the weddings, bringing a festive atmosphere to the city.

Spring had deepened; with it came a subtle melancholy. The peach blossoms had begun to fall—each morning, the ground was strewn with colorful petals. The leaves were a deeper green, but the joyous freshness of early spring had faded. Treading upon the carpet of petals, Li Wei once again visited Yeting Palace. This was the last time; the related halls in Taiji Palace were prepared, and he had come to escort the princesses to their new residence.

He passed a small hall and stopped, noticing a little palace maid whose face was unclear, but by her figure, she seemed very young. She was wiping a table while reading a book:

“Beginning with the Sacred Terrace, planned and built, the people labor, and soon it is accomplished. Do not hasten the start, for with time, the people will come.

The king is in the sacred park, where does rest the gentle deer, the graceful deer so abundant, the white birds flying high. The king is at the sacred pool, where the fish leap when the waters brim.

The bell stands tall, the drums resound, at the ringing of bells and drums, music begins…”

“What character is this?” she wondered aloud.

This little girl was certainly diligent and eager to learn.

Not all palace maids could read. The first rank were those selected from officials’ households, serving the emperor and princes—these had the best chance of becoming concubines. Empress Zhang, consort of Emperor Suzong, was one such. These maids were well-educated and could continue their studies within the palace. Even if they did not become concubines, they often rose to positions of authority, like Liu Yizhi’s elder sister.

The second rank were respectable girls like Bi’er, who might know a few characters and, if favored, could continue their education; if not, they remained as they were.

The third rank were the families of criminals, mostly laboring in Yeting Palace, with little chance to study, rarely touching a book.

This little girl was about the same age as his young sister, and she was reading “Sacred Terrace.” Li Wei was delighted and stood watching her. She was so absorbed in her reading that her hand polished the same spot until it gleamed, neglecting the rest of the table. Several people walked by, but she did not even notice.

“What character is this? It’s so familiar; where have I seen it before?” she mumbled. Now Li Wei could see her face—delicate and lovely, with thick dark eyebrows, a petite oval face, large expressive eyes, and a small, shapely nose. She was a perfect little beauty, though still very young.

Seeing that she could not figure it out, Li Wei answered, “That character is pronounced ‘yong,’ as in Yong Province; it is synonymous with the character for 'harmony.' You recognize it because in the Book of Rites, there is a line: ‘The university is outside the capital; for the Son of Heaven, it is called Biyong; for feudal lords, Pan Palace. Biyong refers to the university of the Western Zhou.’”

“But if it means university, it doesn’t quite fit here—the poem’s meaning doesn’t seem right,” the little maid asked, puzzled.

“It’s used here for its rhyme and association, not necessarily for a university. This poem describes King Wen’s music with drum and bell, his joy with the people. If it were about a university, you wouldn’t find mention of birds and fish. Combined with Sacred Terrace, Sacred Pool, and Sacred Park, it likely refers to a scenic royal retreat where the king enjoys leisure among nature.”

“That makes sense.” The little maid’s doubts were resolved, and only then did she notice the finely dressed young man before her, accompanied by maids, eunuchs, and guards. Startled, she fell to the ground and stammered, “This book, I found it—I didn’t steal it!”

Li Wei did not blame her; in fact, her spontaneous confession amused him.

PS: Later generations have many opinions about Shangguan Wan’er, but reflecting on the environment in which she studied as a child, one can only sigh deeply.