Chapter 43

Once the newly widowed imprial consort and a sturdy palace guard had finished rolling around under the brocade quilt in great pleasure, it was only then that Shang Yunchu, her face flushed, asked, “That girl called An Qiao’er — she really left the palace?”

Wu Kui replied with a trace of regret, “It’s said she got married off to a disgraced imperial physician. Looks like she’s gone stupid too. Wouldn’t stay in the good palace, insisted on begging the emperor to let her go suffer outside.”

Shang Yunchu let out a cold laugh.

“If you ask me, it’s you, Wu-lang, who’s been eyeing that tender morsel for ages but never got a bite — feeling a bit resentful now, aren’t you?”

Wu Kui hurriedly straightened his expression, leaned in to plant a kiss on Shang Yunchu’s cheek, and said, “How could a dainty little thing like that ever compare to a true lady like Your Grace? Ever since I climbed onto Your Grace’s phoenix bed, even the new wife I took home feels bland and tasteless. This lowly one has long since thrown himself at Your Grace’s silk skirts, never to rise again.”

What he said wasn’t entirely false either.

This was a consort who had once been slept with by the late emperor — and, it was said, had even been the Grand Tutor’s old flame.

A beauty of the bedchamber of such flavor — Wu Kui could taste it only thanks to the fortune he’d cultivated over lifetimes.

Listening to such coarse and clumsy flattery, Shang Yunchu felt a surge of disgust in her heart, but her face only wore a faint smile.

“Wu-lang’s heart, this consort is deeply moved. But tell me — did my brother entrust you with any message this time?”

“Lord Shang asked this lowly one to tell Your Grace — just memorize the little emperor’s daily routine well. Do not, under any circumstances, act without orders…”

Shang Yunchu nodded, then had the maid Chunxiang bring a bowl of tonic soup, instructing Wu Kui to drink it.

Afterward, she had him smuggled out again.

Wu Kui merely thought that Her Grace feared he might be too weak to satisfy her thirst after a long drought, so every time she prepared a tonic for him.

He had drunk it many times before without any strange happenings, so he drank it without worry and left.

Men inside and outside the palace all had their own clever little schemes.

Her brother’s days didn’t seem to be any better either — perhaps he now regretted ever helping that Wei Lenghou.

Who knows what new backer he had latched onto now, scheming something again.

But Shang Yunchu was not content to just be a piece on these men’s chessboard — she had her own plans.

This deep palace was too cold.

Stay here long enough, and it was like being buried alive in a tomb one could never escape.

Since she was a living corpse anyway, she might as well follow her own heart and live fiercely just once — and make sure that all those who had wronged her could never have their fill of joy and satisfaction!

As spring faded, Chuyun Palace returned to its cold, mournful state in the dead of night.

That little flame of candlelight flickered once — then was suddenly snuffed out…

Inside the palace, undercurrents surged; and at court, things weren’t exactly stable either.

After the young emperor’s sixteenth birthday, several veteran ministers led by Wu Jinglin submitted a petition to the Grand Tutor, urging that power be returned to the emperor.

The memorial was written with passionate, righteous words — if power wasn’t handed over, they looked ready to stake their very lives on it.

When the Grand Tutor threw the memorial to Nie Qinglin, she was leaning against the railing by the Imperial Garden pond, tossing feed to the fish.

After glancing at it, she cautiously said, “How about… from today, I fall ill?”

Wei Lenghou narrowed his phoenix eyes and said lazily, “At a time like this, if the emperor falls sick, I’m afraid Minister Wu will soon spread rumors all over the capital that this minister poisoned the emperor.”

Nie Qinglin flung the last bit of feed into the water and said slowly, “Whatever the Grand Tutor says, I’ll follow.”

The Grand Tutor sat down on the stone bench too, resting his arm on the white marble railing, lowering his voice deliberately: “Is the Emperor really going to listen to everything this minister says?”

The dragon pearl didn’t answer — just quietly gazed at the Grand Tutor.

Wei Lenghou originally wanted to tease this little thing again, but when the frivolous words reached his lips, he swallowed them back down.

Truth be told, he hadn’t really taken the old fossils like Wu seriously.

But a thought had taken root in his mind — with this as the excuse, it would be a fine opportunity to abolish the new emperor in a grand, proper way, and set up a young puppet emperor instead.

As for this darling before his eyes — he could then openly hide her away in his own mansion, spending day and night in blissful company…

Thinking of this, he said with a half-smile, “Sitting on the dragon throne doesn’t seem comfortable for Your Majesty either. Why not step down — and come live in this minister’s manor?”

Nie Qinglin’s heart sank.

She fell silent for a long time, then only lowered her head to watch the fish swimming in the pond.

A few fat, plump koi were bumping into lotus leaves, blowing bubbles, swimming freely in their palm-sized world…

“The Grand Tutor wishes to hear the honest words?” she finally asked.

Wei Lenghou raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. Unless the Emperor plans to make up some sweet lies to fool this minister again?”

“Grand Tutor, you see through Me. Those childish words could never deceive you. They would only invite ridicule.
However…”

She paused slightly before continuing, “Due to My imperial mother’s compulsion, My position is indeed awkward. We have little choice. Sitting on the dragon throne isn’t a long-term solution… but if We truly follow the Grand Tutor’s suggestion, though My future days would certainly be less filled with daily terror, there’s just one thing We must ask —
What does the Grand Tutor intend to do, with a hidden-away concubine that cannot see the light of day?”

As she spoke, Nie Qinglin slowly lifted her head, but didn’t look at Wei lenghou.

Instead, she cast her gaze toward that far-off sky beyond the palace walls.

Wei Lenghou’s face instantly tightened.

How could he not understand the meaning hidden in little dragon pearl’s words?

Although the civil and military officials of the court did not know the emperor’s true gender, every single one had seen the emperor’s face.

This meant that even if one day Wei Lenghou rose to the pinnacle and took the throne, the one seated in the central palace’s phoenix seat would never be this beloved little fruit (T/N: Nie Qinglin childhood nickname is Guo’er= fruit) of his.

She wouldn’t even be able to show her face within the deep palace…

A man’s habitual thinking made it so that he had only been focused on how to gather this delightful little one under his own wings, yet never thought about what would come after.

For a moment, Wei Lenghou had no way to answer dragon pearl’s words.

He suddenly grew somewhat annoyed, stood up with a cold face, flicked his sleeve, and left.

Nie Qinglin let out a soft sigh, watching the pond full of fish, all so stuffed they could barely swim, lazily flapping their tails at the bottom of the water.

She couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of these foolish fish — eating and drinking their fill every day, wasn’t that the ultimate realm of life?

Whereas she spent every single day worrying about how to survive tomorrow.

And then the Grand Tutor had the nerve to blame her for not putting on any flesh — with one’s spirit and vitality being drained away like this, how could she possibly grow any meat?

At present, she truly held no good cards in her hand.

The only one she could barely count on, was the Grand Tutor’s faint bit of pity toward her whenever his temper was stirred.

Since young, she had never lacked powerful men by her side.

Those who had drunk deeply from the wine of ambition and power saw beauties merely as the garnish on a feast, an extra pleasure — just like salted plums placed in a little dish: a good appetizer to whet the appetite and pair with wine, but never something to fill the stomach.

And she herself, in Wei Lenghou’s eyes, was at most just such a salted plum.

Once he had savored the taste, he would spit out the pit and toss it to the ground, where a single careless step would crush it into powder.

Thus, she must seize the moment while she was still fresh and flavorful, and, with her tiny ant’s strength trying to shake a great tree, struggle for some meager benefits for herself.

Grand Tutor, bestow upon me a small estate!

And behind the estate, grant me ten thousand acres of fertile land!

Even if, one day, Your Excellency no longer took any interest, I would still diligently study the ways of farming, plowing in spring and harvesting in winter, becoming a model citizen who paid taxes year after year!

Later, listening to what Eunuch Ruan conveyed, it seemed the Grand Tutor had replied that His Majesty was still in the period of mourning, his grief not yet passed, and thus had no heart to preside over state affairs.

Nie Qinglin immediately understood, and personally drafted a piece titled [A Lament for My Father].

At the ancestral ceremony, she led the old ministers, reciting it aloud between sobs, and requested the Grand Tutor to continue acting as regent for three more years.

Old Wu followed behind, also crying as he pleaded:

“Your Majesty, your filial piety is admirable, but how can the nation go long without a rightful ruler!”

In her heart, Nie Qinglin thought:

How naive you are, Elder Wu.

If I don’t show my filial devotion to the late Emperor, then I’ll have to go to the Grand Tutor’s residence to fulfill filial duties — towards him! I can only beg your pardon, Elder Wu.

In the end, the Grand Tutor, with a dark face, sternly reprimanded Wu Jinglin for speaking out of turn in the ancestral temple, then punished him with docked salary and house arrest.

After calculating, it meant another full year where they wouldn’t have to see Elder Wu.

Thus, the matter of the emperor returning full governance was dragged on until it quietly faded away.

Speaking of farming — when it comes to cultivating fields, irrigation is essential.

But the villages surrounding the capital had suffered from years of drought.

However, this year’s dire shortage of water was about to be solved, because the Ministry of Works welcomed a fine new Deputy Minister!

In recent years, the Ministry of Works had been scolded wretchedly by the Grand Tutor — so much so that the officials inside looked defeated before they even entered the yamen gates, faces as mournful as attending a funeral.

The officials responsible for the canals, each morning before court, acted like naughty schoolboys who refused to get out of bed, first crying their fill in their wives’ and concubines’ arms before dragging themselves up to face the Grand Tutor’s wrath.

Now, after the imperial exams, a new young Left Deputy Minister had arrived, and the old officials immediately sighed in relief.

Happily, they shoved all the messy matters of canal irrigation around the capital onto Ge Qingyuan’s head.

This young Lord Ge truly had the style of his father: obediently accepting every hot potato thrown at him.

He led his team along the waterways around the capital, bustling and full of energy, taking up his post.

One month later would be the Grand Suburban Sacrifice.

The imperial family of Great Wei had a summer palace at Xiangmiao Mountain outside the capital.

It was not only a summer retreat for the emperor but also the site of the Spring Plowing Sacrificial Ceremony to the agricultural gods.

Outside the palace, there lay vast royal farmlands, planted with all manner of crops.

In spring, the emperor would lead his consorts and princes to walk through the fields, ceremonially swing a hoe, and farm for three days — symbolizing the royal family’s adherence to the ancient rites of “taking wealth from the land, and law from Heaven.”

Due to the previous attack along the official road, Marquis Wei was extremely averse to the Emperor leaving the palace.

However, with years of natural disasters and drought plaguing the country, especially in Guanzhong where famine was severe, a group of refugees had even turned bandit, raising their own banners and causing rebellion.

If the Emperor were to skip the Spring Plowing Sacrificial Ceremony, public resentment could easily boil over.

Qiu Mingyan, who was in charge of suppressing the bandits, wrote in a secret memorial to the Grand Tutor:

“I humbly beseech Your Excellency to stabilize the people’s hearts. The Spring Plowing Sacrificial Ceremony must not be neglected…”

Wei Lenghou naturally understood the weight of this.

Thus, he summoned Lu Yuda, instructing him to mobilize the elite Black Banner Army to ensure the Emperor’s security along the entire route.

Lu Yuda was dumbfounded at first.

He hadn’t expected that the Grand Tutor would actually dispatch the Great Wei’s most fearsome Black Banner Army just to act as bodyguards for that little one.

But after thinking it through, he realized even Old Iron Flower, that wily old hag, had been secretly brought into the palace — clearly, the Grand Tutor must have his own considerations.

Thus, he solemnly accepted the order and meticulously began preparing.

The journey to Xiangmiao Mountain Palace was easy enough.

By following the canal eastward, traveling by water, they could arrive within two days.

This would be Nie Qinglin’s first time, as the Emperor, personally setting out to Xiangmiao Mountain Palace.

Only then did she realize how magnificent the imperial dragon boat truly was.

The entire vessel was crafted in the shape of a colossal dragon, with the dragon’s head at the prow.

Pavilions and towers rose majestically upon the boat, towering three stories high.

The hull was intricately carved, with each dragon scale painted and gilded — so that when the noon sun shone down, the entire dragon boat glittered with golden brilliance, dazzling and imposing beyond words.

When dragon pearl stepped onto this extraordinarily luxurious grand ship, she sighed inwardly: No wonder men throughout the ages have willingly thrown themselves into the fray for the sake of that lofty throne. The honor and glory brought by power truly stirs the greed in one’s heart!

Far from the dragon boat, there were two other large ships — they were for the accompanying officials’ families and the concubines from the palace.

The Spring Plowing Sacrificial Ceremony was a grand event; both the court officials and the women of the inner palace needed to attend together to uphold the ancient rite of men plowing, women weaving.

The ship sailed steadily.

Along the way, both riverbanks were adorned with the beautiful sights of spring.

When they reached the stretch of river where the boat had once run aground, Nie Qinglin had thought they would have to disembark and change boats on foot.

Who would have thought that this dragon boat, which sat so deep in the water, would pass through unimpeded?

Even the Grand Tutor was quite astonished.

He led the young Emperor up to the upper pavilion of the dragon boat.

Looking out, they saw that the embankments on both sides had been reinforced, and saplings of varying heights were planted along the banks.

Laborers from the Ministry of Works were still bent over, busy planting a kind of grass that looked very odd — its leaves were short, but its roots were long.

At a glance, it was clearly a plant well-suited to binding soil and water.

The Grand Tutor was very satisfied.

Turning to Eunuch Ruan, he said, “Has that man called Ge Qingyuan come along?”

Eunuch Ruan went to inquire, and soon returned to report,”Master Ge is not qualified by rank to accompany the royal entourage, but he is nearby, overseeing the clearing of a canal.
If Grand Tutor wishes to see him, this servant can summon him immediately.”

The Grand Tutor nodded.

Before long, a small boat drew near the dragon boat, and a man in a mud-stained blue robe boarded.

He had come in great haste — busy to the point of spinning around at the river — and upon hearing the Grand Tutor’s summons, rushed over without delay.

He had meant to wash up and ask the eunuch for a clean court robe to change into, but as soon as he boarded and saw the Grand Tutor standing at the prow, his heart gave a jolt.

He immediately knelt and said, “This subject appears before the Grand Tutor in disheveled attire, and begs punishment!”

But Grand Tutor Wei Lenghou was in a good mood and said,”Deputy Minister Ge, you lead by example and are a true model for the Ministry of Works. This marquis called you on a whim — how could I blame you? Rise and speak.”

Having said that, he turned and walked away.

At this time, a young eunuch brought over a small basin of water and a hand towel.

Ge Qingyuan hastily washed up and changed into a clean set of clothes, then quickly made his way into the pavilion hall to meet the Grand Tutor.

The hall was divided into inner and outer sections.

The Grand Tutor was seated in the outer hall, while behind the screen in the inner room came bursts of laughter, and from time to time, a few soft cat meows.

Palace maids came and went in an endless stream, carrying trays of gold cups and jade dishes.

The Grand Tutor reclined lazily on a soft couch and said to the young man below,”Originally, His Majesty intended to personally commend you, but he is currently dining, so this marquis will convey his praise on his behalf.”

Ge Qingyuan hurriedly knelt and gave thanks for the imperial favor.

The Grand Tutor then asked,”The Ministry of Works has racked their brains for a whole year without solving this problem. How did you manage it?”

Hearing the Grand Tutor’s question, Ge Qingyuan immediately replied,”This humble subject merely borrowed the wisdom of the sage Yu the Great. Yu’s method for controlling floods lies in the word ‘guide’. Thus, this subject thought: the canal’s troubles stemmed first from collapsed embankments, and second from insufficient water flow. If we only rely on heaven’s mercy for rain, it is too passive. Thus, this subject studied the surrounding waterway maps, dredged a passage to the Yuquan River two hundred li away, and built a sluice gate. Now, the water levels can be regulated at will, and tens of thousands of acres of thirsty farmland between the two areas can be irrigated. As for the embankments, this subject has had workers plant water linden trees and bitter mangrass.”

Wei Lenghou nodded slightly and said,”These two plants — their names sound rather odd. What makes them special?”

Ge Qingyuan respectfully answered,”Reporting to Grand Tutor: the branches of the water linden tree are rich in moisture and resistant to drying, making them unsuitable as firewood.
As for the bitter mangrass, it has deep roots that anchor firmly into the soil, and its leaves are extremely bitter, so livestock avoid grazing on it.Each has its own marvel, and together they save us from future maintenance troubles.”

Wei Lenghou sized up the young man before him.

Though he was still youthful, the way he handled affairs showed a remarkable steadiness.

“Judging by your talents,” Wei Lenghou mused,”the Ministry of Works might be a bit of a waste for you.The Ministry of Revenue happens to have a vacancy… What would you say to that?”

At that moment, inside the imperial dining hall, Nie Qinglin — who was dining — paused slightly, ivory chopsticks still in hand, and heard the clear, steady voice of the young man outside:

“The canal matters are still unresolved, and at present the greatest urgency for the court lies in ‘water control.’Since this subject happens to have some humble skills in this area, I am willing to exhaust my meager abilities to relieve the Grand Tutor’s concerns.”

Nie Qinglin picked up a piece of fish with his chopsticks and thought to himself:

Truly a teachable young man!

This Ge Qingyuan was indeed a bright one who understood with just a hint.

After all, a post handed out proactively by the Grand Tutor was not so easy to bear.

The Ministry of Revenue controlled the empire’s silver vault — a fat, juicy post indeed — but how could it be casually handed to a youngster with no standing?

Most likely, this was merely bait for testing.

Had Ge Qingyuan rushed forward joyfully without a second thought, then his career would have been capped at some lowly clerk in the Ministry of Revenue, forever toiling in obscurity.

But this Ge Qingyuan — he was truly a character to reckon with.

The road ahead for him would surely be a long one…

When Ge Qingyuan came out from the pavilion, he could still hear the sounds of the Grand Tutor and those in the inner room eating and talking.

“Grand Tutor, don’t take that — I don’t like venison. Please help me eat it…”

The young Emperor’s voice was husky yet carried a certain gentle softness, making it a pleasure to the ears.

Since childhood, one could not help but feel tender affection for this prince.

Who would have thought that after growing up, he would become such a stunning figure?

That day, though he had only glanced from afar, he had still caught sight of the Emperor’s ethereal and radiant face.

They all said this new Emperor was soft and incapable, a puppet in the Grand Tutor’s hand.

Even he was unclear what kind of man the once-young prince had now become.

The gift box he had offered earlier had merely been a probe —to see whether this new Emperor was truly willing to acknowledge a usurper as father and abandon rightful governance.

He hadn’t dared to hope much.

Even if there were a heart to restore Great Wei’s rightful orthodoxy, a mere child could do little.

The phrase ‘quietly wait’ in his gift was both an expression of loyalty and a subtle urging for patience and endurance.

Yet who would have thought — this test had yielded an unexpected, boundless delight.

The young Emperor had returned the meaning of ‘quietly wait’ in full, without missing a beat.

That day, when he first laid eyes on the word “Canal,” he was stunned, and immediately after, cold sweat broke out all over his body.

Had the Emperor not acted to give him a wake-up call, he might already have been banished to some godforsaken backwater, clutching his grand ambitions with nowhere to realize them, wasting away the rest of his life in mediocrity.

Just now, when the Grand Tutor spoke of promoting him, he had indeed felt a burst of joy in his heart and had almost blurted out his acceptance.

But at the very last moment, he remembered why His Majesty had once warned him to restrain his sharpness.

The words were already at his lips, yet he hastily swallowed them back down.

When he got off the dragon barge, standing atop a small boat, he bowed and watched as His Majesty’s grand vessel slowly sailed off.

He understood very well that in the art of “hiding one’s brilliance,” he was still far inferior to His Majesty.

Usually so cold and aloof, Wei Lenghou — who kept distant from the civil and military officials alike — could actually sit down and share a meal with the Emperor in such easy familiarity, without the slightest trace of the outside world’s rumors of bullying and humiliating the young Emperor.

He could not help but wonder — just what method had this new Emperor used to draw such a frosty person like the Grand Tutor so close to him? It truly looked like the way a wise ruler and a worthy minister got along…

When the dragon barge pulled into the docks of the Xiangmiao Mountain Palace, Nie Qinglin, revisiting old grounds, couldn’t help but sigh.

The only other time she had come to the palace was when she was eight years old, hitching a ride under the excuse of her father’s clandestine tryst.

That time, the boat she and her mother rode was narrow and shaky, tossing so badly that she got terribly seasick, vomiting the whole way without even the heart to appreciate the scenery.

How could that miserable trip compare to today’s ease and delight? The barge was massive and stable, like walking on flat ground.

She ate and played the whole way, admiring the springtime scenery along both shores, wishing that the field sacrifice ceremony could last a lifetime.

But Wei Lenghou was full of troublesome ideas — after only a short while admiring the view by the window, he dragged her away under the excuse that staring too long at moving scenery would make her seasick.

Yet all he did was pull her onto the dragon bed and forced her to admire the grand figure hidden beneath the Grand Tutor’s robes.

By the time they arrived at the palace, the sun was already sinking in the west.

The first order of business was to arrange the sleeping quarters for His Majesty and the Grand Tutor.

Unlike the palaces within the city, although the Xiangmiao Mountain Palace had sprawling gardens, the arrangement of the halls and pavilions was a bit more compact.

The Grand Tutor’s chambers were right next to the Emperor’s — separated only by a small door.

But what puzzled Nie Qinglin was that this time, Wei Lenghou had not brought a single concubine with him.

When she curiously asked him about it, Wei Lenghou only replied blandly, “Is it that Your Majesty hopes this subject will bring more concubines?”

Knowing that any answer she gave would only displease him, Nie Qinglin wisely kept her mouth shut and obediently followed Nanny Shan to bathe in the fragrant waters.

The Xiangmiao Mountain Palace was built right beside the hot springs, and bathing there meant channeling the spring water down jade stone pipes, adjusting the temperature before entering the pools.

She had grown weary of soaking in medicinal baths these past few days, and it was rare to see the pool now filled with clean, clear water, scattered with flower petals and scented oils.

At first glance, Nie Qinglin could hardly wait to plunge in.

But Nanny Shan forbade it, calling for a fair-skinned palace maid to first bathe and cleanse herself five times, then sit in the pool for half an incense stick’s time.

Only when it was confirmed there were no issues was the Emperor allowed to enter.

Nie Qinglin knew the security for this trip was airtight, but to be strict to this degree — even requiring a bathing trial before entry — left her speechless, looking up at the heavens.

Early the next morning, the spring field sacrifice officially began.

Following ritual propriety, Nie Qinglin had to bathe and change again, don farmer’s garb, and go to the fields to plow.

The hot spring baths at the palace were vast, built to suit the former Emperor’s tastes: large pools nested within smaller ones, linked together into a sprawling complex.

In the old days, the late Emperor had loved bringing swarms of beautiful palace girls into the baths to frolic — an utterly shameless and debauched scene.

Now that the grand ceremony was taking place, heavy wooden walls divided the baths, separating ministers from the noblewomen.

After bathing, everyone was to change into ceremonial clothing for the rite.

Although His Majesty’s bathing grounds were not located with the ministers’, they were built on a platform raised a full zhang high.

Even though separated, any noise could still be heard clearly.

According to Nanny Shan’s orders, Nie Qinglin, though already wrapped in bath towels, still had to wait for the designated young palace maid to trial the bath before she could enter.

The hot spring water was steaming, sending up waves of gentle fragrance.

At that moment, a guard stationed discreetly at a corner of the women’s bathing ground suddenly flushed red in the face, his gaze dull and unfocused.

Below his waist, his trousers slowly swelled into a large tent, and he turned, beginning to clamber up the raised stone wall behind him…