Chapter 81: Little Caiwan, Obedient Son

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There are not many things to like about summer: the heat is oppressive, and the air swarms with mosquitoes and flies that cling tenaciously to every movement. But April, after all, is not so disagreeable. Though some may complain that the days are growing hot again, the wheat in the fields has turned golden, the rape blossoms have fallen away leaving only glossy black seed pods, and tiny clusters of locust blossoms drift down like silent snow, lending an artistic and poetic air to the gentle shade of emerald leaves.

The Xu residence stood amid this dappled coolness—not ostentatious, but far from shabby. There were two or three small pavilions connected by sweeping eaves, their blue bricks and brown tiles echoing one another. Rows of single-story houses lined the property, and a garden flourished with trees, flowers, and a little bridge over flowing water. Everything befitting a household of standing was present.

It could not be called resplendent with gold and jade, but when dusk fell and the last rays of the setting sun lingered, the place exuded a solid and steady presence.

Xu Qidan had returned home, and Xu Li came to greet him.

“Ah, my daughter, how well-behaved you are today!”

“Father, your daughter has always been obedient.”

“Is that so?” Xu Qidan broke into hearty laughter.

As they walked into the house together, Xu Li said, “Father, I wish to visit my aunt.”

“You want to go to the Eastern Capital?” Xu Qidan halted abruptly, looking at his daughter in surprise. He felt a little helpless about her intentions. The rumors circulating among the people were reckless, but in truth, was that young lady of the Yang family truly so detestable?

His own daughter had twisted her ankle—was it so wrong that she disliked being touched by strange men? Even if His Highness was in poor health, she was still a child at the time—how could she have thought of so many things? But what business did she have in Luoyang?

Xu Li continued, “Father, also, the young lady of the Pei family is going to the Eastern Capital as well.”

Pei Judao had a residence in Luoyang, so this time, as one of the commanders of the Imperial Guard escorting the Crown Prince, he too was heading to Luoyang.

But even if you go to Luoyang, will you really be able to see the Crown Prince? And if you do, what will come of it?

“Father,” Xu Li pleaded. In this season, his daughter had grown thin; her slenderness did not diminish her graceful bearing, but he could not help but feel a pang in his heart for her. After a moment’s thought, he said, “You may go, then. But remember, the Emperor and Empress are both in the Eastern Capital—you must conduct yourself with proper decorum…”

“Father, I understand,” Xu Li replied cheerfully.

………………………………………

After lunch, there was no wild morning exercise, but the Eight Brocades routine was indispensable.

Li Wei, meanwhile, was pondering Wei Yuanzhong’s words. Xu Yanbo was a man of considerable talent; otherwise, his parents would not have spoken with him and granted him the post of Reader to the Crown Prince. Yet, he was proud and arrogant, inheriting none of Xu Jingzong’s shrewdness, but all of his vices—lecherous, greedy.

Everyone has flaws, but Xu Yanbo had more than most… Li Wei was already calculating his options.

As for Wei Yuanzhong, he was certainly an interesting man. Yesterday, in the Hall of Martial Achievement, his forthrightness rivaled that of the most upright censors. Even when he learned that Li Wei’s parents intended to promote him, he did not waver in his stance, instead throwing his lot in with Li Wei’s parents—this was integrity, loyalty! Yet he was not without flexibility; perhaps “adaptability” was the better word. These men had their own backbone—if they chose to help him, it was because they believed it right. If he proved himself unworthy, they would not exert themselves for his sake.

Such a man was a true minister. If, one day, he truly had a chance to ascend to his father’s seat, he would be sure to employ him well.

But that day still seemed so distant, so unreachable…

His thoughts did not slow his movements. As he switched to the third set of exercises, he glanced over to see Shangguan Wan’er practicing as well. He paused and called, “Wan’er.”

“What are your orders, Your Highness?”

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“I am ill, which is why I exercise so diligently. You, on the other hand, are healthy and don’t need to work so hard.”

He hoped that when Shangguan Wan’er grew up, her talent would surpass even the legends, that she would become a woman of unrivaled grace and intellect—not merely an athlete.

“Yes, Your Highness!” Shangguan Wan’er obediently returned to her books.

After he finished, Bi’er had someone bring hot water for Li Wei’s bath.

When Shangguan Wan’er first arrived at the Eastern Palace, she had tried to help Li Wei bathe, but he had firmly refused. Bi’er, however, was allowed—after all, in this era, it was not unusual for bedchamber attendants to do so. As for Shangguan Wan’er… he feared the gods might take notice, and, displeased, snatch his soul to be reborn as a pig or a dog.

He lay comfortably in the warm water but was dissatisfied with the sight of his chest—after two months, his ribs still pressed tightly against his skin. He was growing anxious. What kind of body had the Crown Prince possessed before? In these two months, his face had gained some color, and his coughing had dropped to fewer than ten times a day—a miraculous improvement in medical history.

Tuberculosis! If he could overcome it, who knew what the historians would write—perhaps they’d craft legends to rival Liu Bang slaying the white serpent.

He found himself mulling over the skirmish before Li Zhuofan’s cottage on Zhongnan Mountain, and the way his bodyguards had dispatched Helan Minzhi’s servant. Two lifetimes of training had not made him a national champion, but his eye for a fight had sharpened. For brawling or minor scuffles, even in this frail body, he could handle one or two men. But when it came to life and death, even a single guard could prove fatal.

Martial arts in this era were likely quite developed, but most techniques were direct, focused on killing blows, simple and effective.

What was he thinking? If the day came when he had to fight on the battlefield himself, what kind of nation would this be? Most likely, his own end would be tragic.

Bi’er’s hands moved lower, growing bolder as he remained silent. She teased him playfully, her cool little hands drawing a contented sigh from his lips. The water was clear, drawn from the city’s channel—though not spring water, it flowed down from Mount Mang and was changed daily, sometimes twice or thrice. There was never much dirt to wash away. Even so, Li Wei’s body was clearly visible beneath the water.

A certain part reacted, rising like a pillar.

It, too, needed washing when it grew—she handled it gently.

“Yes, just like that,” Li Wei guided her small hand, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Was this too much? Surely not.

Just as he was enjoying Bi’er’s luxurious attentions, a voice called from outside: “The Empress is here!”

Wu Zetian had come to see her son—no servant dared stop her or even announce her arrival. The greeting was loud and clear, less a mere notification than a command: the Crown Prince must come out to welcome her at once.

Li Wei scrambled out of the bath, water still beading his skin, threw on his robe, and hurried out, with Bi’er following behind, towel in hand, dabbing at his wet hair.

Seeing her son’s odd appearance, Wu Zetian asked curiously, “Hong’er, what is this about?”

“I exercised again this afternoon and worked up a sweat, so I was bathing.”

“I’ve heard as much—it’s good for your health, but you must keep at it.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Wu Zetian studied her son. Before, he often looked at her with dissatisfaction and stubbornness; now, there was a hint of gentleness in his gaze. Had he truly come to his senses? She said, “I’ve come today for your health. Master Zhengyi has refined some excellent medicinal pills. They were meant for your father, but I’ve taken two for you.”

With a wave of her hand, a eunuch presented a small brocade box. Wu Zetian opened it, and Li Wei looked inside. Most alchemical pills were black; in Chang’an, he had once received a golden pill, which was rare enough. But these two were rainbow-colored, glinting with every hue in the sunlight.

Were these really meant for his father?

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His father’s health was already poor—taking these colorful little pills daily, who knew what strange compounds might be inside, or what the mysterious Master Zhengyi had concocted…

In truth, Li Shimin had taken many such pills, but Li Zhi had not taken as many—perhaps after witnessing Changsun Wuji forging auspicious omens himself, he had grown skeptical of alchemists. His declining health was more a matter of constitution than medicine; these pills likely carried few side effects.

But Li Wei dared not say so, and could only bow and say, “Thank you, Mother.”

It worked out well enough—these pills would be useful in currying favor with Xu Yanbo, given that Xu Jingzong was his tutor. If only there were a hundred or two hundred pills—he could deal with old Xu in one go. But there were only two.

Once inside, Wu Zetian waved everyone away, leaving only an elderly eunuch.

Wu Zetian said, “I heard you were gravely ill, and I was terribly worried in the Eastern Capital. Fortunately…”

“Mother, I was reckless, leaving the palace in the rain and falling seriously ill, forgetting the concern I owed to you and Father.”

Suddenly, her son was so obedient? Wu Zetian frowned slightly. “It was a blessing in disguise. This illness has made you focus on strengthening your health, which is better than before. I am pleased. But why did you write such a crude poem?”

She produced the letter Li Wei had written from her sleeve.

Li Wei glanced at the eunuch. Wu Zetian said, “He is a trusted attendant—speak freely.”

“I was just about to explain, Mother. After my illness, I forgot many things, but what I remembered became clearer,” Li Wei replied calmly. He was still somewhat in awe of Wu Zetian, but by nature he was slow to anger, and though he could be impulsive, he was generally patient and composed—especially now, with an escape plan always at the ready, he could answer with equanimity.

He continued, “Without you, Mother, how could I ever have become Crown Prince?”

Wu Zetian’s lips curled in pleasure—those words struck at her deepest worries. If not for her efforts amidst the palace intrigues, neither Li Wei nor Li Xian would have been anything but fallen princes. Yet, her sons had always treated her with a certain lack of respect.

To understand this truth—here was a child worth teaching.

“The two princesses are indeed pitiable, but perhaps it was only because Father and Mother were preoccupied with affairs of state and overlooked them. Even if I saw their plight, I should have found an opportunity to report quietly to you, Mother,” Li Wei recited perfectly, though in his heart he thought: If I had done that, those princesses would never have been permitted to marry. But Wu Zetian was not easy to fool, so he carefully considered his words, making them seem reasonable. Judging by her expression, she was not truly angry, so he pressed on: “But I failed to consider your feelings, Mother, and submitted my memorial directly. If word spread, the public would surely misunderstand you. Once I realized this, I was anxious and uneasy day and night in the Eastern Palace. When your edict arrived, I was so eager to make amends that I wrote that crude poem.”

“I understand your intentions. But in the future, never write such vulgar poetry again, lest the clan become a laughingstock.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“This illness of yours may not be such a bad thing after all. The eunuch Liu told me that yesterday, in the Hall of Martial Achievement, you gazed at me with such admiration—it delighted me greatly.”

“A son must surely revere the mother who bore and raised him,” Li Wei replied, relieved. This hurdle, at least, seemed to have been cleared. But when had he ever looked at Wu Zetian with “admiration” yesterday in the Hall of Martial Achievement?

He thought back—the eunuch had been standing right behind Wu Zetian, close enough to see his facial expression. No wonder. But at that time…

At that time, his expression must have been rather sly, rather…

PS: There will be another update tonight, probably before 10:30.