Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Princess Whines, Parents' Ingenious Strategy

As he entered the Martial Virtue Hall, two figures sat in the center of the grand chamber. One was a middle-aged man, even thinner than himself, with a rectangular face—undoubtedly, his father, Li Zhi. His gauntness was a testament to the ravages of illness. Beside him, a middle-aged woman with a round face radiated a striking beauty. The crown prince’s mother’s age was a well-kept secret in the Eastern Palace; everyone knew she was several years older than his father, but none dared to speak the exact number.

Now, however, the situation appeared reversed. His mother seemed no older than thirty-five or thirty-six. If her true age were revealed, she could easily pass for ten years younger, perhaps even more so than his father. Dressed in sumptuous robes, she exuded a dignified and noble aura, her beauty undiminished even as the years advanced, surpassing that of ordinary women.

He approached, bowed deeply, and greeted them: “Your son pays his respects to Father and Mother. Father, Mother, I have missed you so much.”

He tried desperately to squeeze out tears, but none would come. It was Li Lingyue who, with a joyful cry, ran forward and threw herself into Li Zhi and Wu Zetian’s arms, shouting, “Father! Mother!”

“My precious Yue’er,” the couple set Li Wei aside for the moment, indulging their affection for their youngest daughter.

Li Wei dared not rise, inwardly complaining that those who claimed parents treat all their children equally were mistaken; most parents adore their youngest, and even the imperial family is no exception.

After they had indulged their affection, Li Zhi finally spoke: “Hong’er, you may rise.”

“Yes.”

“Sit.”

“Yes.”

Li Wei took his place to the side. Li Zhi still did not address him directly, but turned to Jiang Bie’er and asked, “You are Jiang Bie’er?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied, trembling so violently that her teeth chattered. Li Wei, accustomed to modern ways, was less intimidated by authority, but Bie’er was terrified.

“Silly child, I won’t eat you. What are you so afraid of? Come closer and let me take a look.”

Li Wei found it odd—his father addressed Bie’er as “I,” not “We,” the imperial pronoun.

“Yes,” Jiang Bie’er stepped forward. Li Zhi beckoned again, “A little closer; my eyesight isn’t what it used to be.”

She moved nearer.

“Hmm, you have a gentle, pretty appearance. I hear your grandfather was an official?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. He served as a registrar during the reign of Emperor Taizong,” Bie’er replied, voice quaking. Her fear was partly due to the prospect of her future, which depended on this encounter.

“So you come from a respectable family.”

It was a superfluous remark; any maid serving the crown prince, apart from Shangguan Wan’er whom Li Wei had specifically requested, was from a good family.

Bie’er dared not speak.

Li Zhi thought for a moment, then turned to Wu Zetian: “How about someday bestowing the title of Gentleman of the Imperial Secretariat upon her grandfather?”

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That would be a lower sixth-rank literary office.

Wu Zetian replied, “That’s a bit low.”

“What do you suggest, Empress?”

Li Wei’s heart was suddenly clear—there was no need for guesswork. His father might have grand ambitions, but he always listened to his mother. If Li Wei blindly aided his father and opposed his mother, he would surely suffer.

“Let’s grant him the title of Gentleman of the Direct Secretariat.”

“A lower sixth-rank, that’s reasonable. Bie’er, I hear you also have a father and two brothers.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She was so frightened that she forgot to thank him.

Li Zhi was pleased. His temperament leaned toward gentleness; Bie’er’s demeanor suited him well. He continued, “I’ll think about it later and grant them official posts as well.”

“Your humble servant hardly dares,” Bie’er replied, glancing at Li Wei. Her family’s elevation was a blessing, but what of the milk candy workshop? Even now, the little maid was thinking of Li Wei. How could any other girl, be it Yang Min or another, ever replace her in his heart?

Li Wei gave her a meaningful glance, urging her to accept quickly. The workshop, though profitable, could easily be handed over if he remained secure as crown prince. If need be, Old Di or Old Wei could help manage it. But the opportunity before them was too rare.

Besides, his father wasn’t promoting her family for their sake—a lower sixth-rank office hardly warranted parental attention. This was to secure a respectable background for Bie’er, so she’d have proper status serving him.

Yet Bie’er, usually clever and lively, was now bewildered.

He signaled her again and again, but she remained dazed.

Wu Zetian finally spoke: “Hong’er, why are you squinting and making faces?”

“Mother, I got some dust in my eyes.”

“Hmph! After this illness, I hear you suffered from soul-loss, but it seems you’ve learned a few clever tricks instead.”

“Mother, I am wronged! I am very honest.” Would it be so hard to feign innocence?

“Bie’er, you’ve done well. Go sit down. Don’t worry about your family. As for the workshop, best leave business matters alone.”

Li Wei grumbled inwardly; wasn’t his maternal grandfather a great merchant? Only through donations did he gain favor. Why couldn’t Bie’er be more astute now? She sat dazed at the lower seat.

Li Zhi finally questioned him: “Hong’er, you were seriously ill some days ago?”

“It wasn’t much. I was chased by assassins in Zhongnan Mountain, and several guards were killed before my eyes. I was frightened, had nightmares every night, so the palace called for imperial doctors, exorcists, and monks to perform rituals,” he explained, having prepared the excuse long before.

“Hmph, then tell me—why did the guards trouble Helan Minzhi? Did their courage grow in my absence, or did you meddle in this?”

Knowing he was discovered, Li Wei calmly replied, “Father, I am responsible.”

“Hmm,” Li Zhi was surprised at such honesty.

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“Perhaps Father’s concerns are more far-reaching than mine, so the imperial decree never reached Xijing. I made the decision myself, rewarding the families of fallen guards. Some were moved, others felt guilty, so they organized themselves. I may have initiated it, but afterward, it no longer concerned me.”

“You wash your hands of it quite cleanly. Now tell me, what about that new plow?”

The questioning was skillful, changing topics abruptly to catch him off guard.

Li Wei was troubled by this matter, but recited his prepared explanation: “Father, there are too many disaster victims in Xijing. When I went out, the scene was unbearable. I was anxious, searching for solutions, but the Weishui River was too shallow to transport grain. I consulted agricultural books, especially ‘Essential Techniques for the Common People,’ which had some farming records. When I personally tilled the land, I found the old plow cumbersome and wondered how it could be improved. Thus, the new plow was invented. I wasn’t sure if it was any good, so I asked craftsmen to make it and tested it on the spot. All the officials praised it, especially the agricultural ministers, and Prime Minister Dai advocated its nationwide adoption.”

His answer was flawless, not at all suspicious. Li Wei sat upright, not even breathing heavily, while Li Zhi grew frustrated. Li Wei was only afraid his parents would discover he was someone else; as long as they didn’t, nothing else mattered.

Li Zhi pressed on: “Now, Yue’er was in trouble. As her elder brother, it was your duty to rescue her, but why did you make it public? What about her reputation?”

“Father, I admit I didn’t consider everything. But Helan Minzhi was mad enough to send assassins to silence me in Zhongnan Mountain, and his household had even more servants. I feared the worst—not just for myself, but the captain of the guards, Zhu Qing, held me back, fearing Helan Minzhi might openly kill.”

“In the end, he didn’t kill openly, but you did. And after saving Yue’er, why did you have him castrated?”

“Father, why do you defend Helan Minzhi? He’s evil—he tried to strip me,” Li Lingyue protested, tugging at Li Zhi’s beard.

“Ow, ow, let go, that hurts!”

Li Wei wiped his brow; how could there be such a difference between children?

“Father, Helan Minzhi is bad. Big Brother is good.”

“Fine, your brother is good. Let go—I’m only talking to him.”

“Yue’er, don’t misbehave,” Wu Zetian scolded. Though she adored Li Lingyue, all her children feared her, even Lingyue only slightly less so. She released her father at last.

Li Zhi continued, “You’ve played many little tricks on me lately. Did you think them up yourself, or did someone teach you?”

“No, Father, I am filial—heaven can attest. No one taught me,” but before his words were finished, he saw the beautiful Empress Wu winking at him.

A wink, two, three, ten times—taking advantage of Li Zhi’s poor eyesight, she winked freely.

What did his mother mean by this? Now he was the one confused.

“Even now you still deceive me! Attendants, draw back the curtain!”

“Yes!” The eunuch beside them drew aside the screen behind their seats, revealing three men.

Yao Yuanchong and Ximen Chong were glaring at each other, while Wei Yuanzhong sat serenely, eyes closed, looking like a Buddha.

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