The seasonal crabs coming into autumn were something Li Fuxiang craved, but the emperor wouldn’t allow him to have too many.
So, Noble Consort Xian often sent him a little less every now and then. This way, she could both make Li Fuxiang happy and avoid difficulty with the emperor. In this palace, when it came to thorough consideration, it had to be Noble Consort Xian.
The emperor’s desk was tidied, and the string of prayer beads was placed back in front of him. The emperor said to Li Fuxiang, “This is something you retrieved. Do you know its secret?”
The prayer beads were made from the simplest wood, already very old. Some beads had faint cracks on their surfaces.
Li Fuxiang extended a single finger and pressed hard on one of the beads. The bead immediately shattered into pieces, revealing a small wad of paper hidden inside.
So that’s how it was.
Li Fuxiang signaled to the emperor with his eyes.
The emperor picked out the paper wad, carefully smoothed it flat, and examined it under the lamp. On it was written a name.
Li Fuxiang crushed each of the 108 beads one by one. Not every bead contained a name, but in total, they found twelve slips of paper, which pieced together into a letter that fit seamlessly.
Twelve officials.
Li Fuxiang’s gaze slid over each name. Some were prominent figures in the court, while others were unknown nobodies.
Gao Yuexing, biting into a crab leg, thought to herself, ‘What exactly am I doing here?’
Even Li Fuxiang might not recognize all the court officials on the list, let alone her.
Listening to political discussions was like hearing an alien language.
Li Fuxiang asked, “Are they all allies of Prince Wen?”
The emperor smiled. “He doesn’t have that much capability. There might be a few allies here, but most of them likely once helped him secretly.”
But this was already enough to violate the emperor’s taboo.
“I have a total of five blood brothers,” the emperor sighed as he reminisced. “I was not actually the most suitable to be emperor. In terms of governing talent, I couldn’t compare to my eldest brother. In self-discipline, I fell short of my third brother. In decisive ruthlessness, I couldn’t match my fourth brother… my fourth brother, who is the Prince Wen I’ve already executed. But Father passed so suddenly—so suddenly that before the brotherly harmony between us could fully shatter under the weight of imperial power, I was hastily enthroned.”
The emperor’s other brothers did not lack ambition, but they were caught completely unprepared.
Li Fuxiang listened intently.
The emperor couldn’t help but say more: “That day was a great court assembly. The late emperor already looked unwell in the morning; the court officials all noticed it. The inner attendants had already announced the dismissal of the court session. Just as the late emperor rose from the dragon throne, he collapsed on the spot. The late emperor, acting decisively, issued a verbal decree, naming me the crown prince, with the court officials as witnesses. Before he breathed his last, I served by his sickbed and couldn’t help but ask why he chose me in the end.”
—“The late emperor told me that the crown prince doesn’t have to be the most outstanding, but the one most suited to the times.”
Seeing Li Fuxiang’s half-understanding expression, the emperor raised his hand and stroked his hair gently. “At the time, I didn’t comprehend the meaning of his words either. It was only after sitting on the throne for a long time that I gradually understood the late emperor’s painstaking considerations. My eldest brother was virtuous but too gentle, prioritizing literature over military affairs. Father described him as lacking steel in his backbone. My third brother was strict with himself but equally harsh on others, unable to tolerate any imperfections. My fourth brother was the exact opposite of my eldest brother; he valued military power heavily, similar to me in that regard. But his temperament was too extreme, nearly to the point of reckless militarism… Whether it’s supreme imperial power or kinship through bloodlines, as an emperor, one must consider the people of the world first when establishing a successor, safeguarding the ancestral legacy for a hundred years to come.”
Gao Yuexing instinctively felt that something was off about the emperor’s words.
Sure enough, the emperor paused, took a sip of tea, and said to Li Fuxiang, “My son, do you want the throne?”
A cold sweat instantly broke out on Gao Yuexing’s back, and a chill ran up her spine to her head.
It was simply a deadly question—no matter how one answered, there was no guarantee of safety.
To her astonishment, Li Fuxiang didn’t hesitate. He answered crisply and decisively, “I do.”
Gao Yuexing: “…”
If just a moment ago, her mind had been a chaotic mess, that single word, “do,” struck her heart like a heavy hammer, clearing her thoughts instantly.
One dared to ask.
The other dared to answer.
After asking that question, the emperor said nothing more.
Li Fuxiang escorted Gao Yuexing out of the palace, where a carriage from the Gao household was already waiting at the palace gates.
The moon in the sky was nearing fullness.
Three days later would be the Hundred Flowers Banquet, and another three days after that, the Mid-Autumn Festival.
The soft moonlight gently blanketed the earth. Li Fuxiang walked beside her, unusually quiet and speaking little today.
Once they had passed through the imposing city gates, Gao Yuexing couldn’t hold back anymore and asked Li Fuxiang, “Why did you answer like that just now?”
Li Fuxiang replied, “Why don’t you ask why the emperor asked such a question?”
He still didn’t address him as “Father Emperor.”
The emperor had long seen through his nature and years ago had once harshly remarked: “When there’s trouble, he calls me Father Emperor. When there’s none, it’s His Majesty. Truly a little ingrate on par with King Xuan of Qi.”
Gao Yuexing was momentarily at a loss for words. After a long pause, she finally said, “I don’t understand you and your father…”
Li Fuxiang said, “The abbot of Qingliang Temple once declared with absolute certainty that my destiny is ‘the phoenix cries piercingly through the skies.’ Since that’s the case, the throne must be mine.”
Gao Yuexing was stunned. “That… that’s the reason?” Her expression grew serious. “No, that’s too reckless. Your Highness, the fate of the world is no trifling matter. You can’t mix personal feelings into it.”
Gao Yuexing carried memories of her past life and knew that Li Fuxiang’s ascension to the Eastern Palace was inevitable. Yet, her heart was still filled with unease.
Li Fuxiang, too, grew solemn and said, “Ah Xing.”
Gao Yuexing lifted her eyes slightly to look at him, her brows shadowed by an unshakable worry.
Li Fuxiang reached out to touch the center of her brows, smoothing them out with a deft motion, and said, “Ah Xing, for many years, I’ve lived in Qianqing Palace, and no one has ever taught me how to be a minister.”
There was no need to say more.
The words had reached this point—how could Gao Yuexing fail to understand?
Li Fuxiang had lived and dined alongside the emperor. What the emperor had imparted to him through word and example—was it to teach him to serve someone else?
The imperial guards, who controlled the lifeblood of the capital’s defenses, were at his disposal.
The emperor’s personal Jinyiwei bodyguards protected him day and night.
He only had to stretch out his hand to reach the military reports and memorials on the desk.
When Gao Yuexing was a child, she had seen with her own eyes how he held the vermilion brush, and the emperor, holding his hand, guided him to make annotations on the memorials.
The emperor had raised him to be the person he was now. If, in the future, the emperor refused to give him the throne along with everything else, it would mean setting him on a path to destruction.
Yet, it was evident that the emperor was still hesitating.
Li Fuxiang steadied her with a gentle hand and said, “Get in the carriage. Don’t overthink things when you get home.”
Gao Yuexing returned to the Gao residence with a heavy heart. By the time she arrived, it was already late at night. Hearing that her father was still waiting for her in the study, she didn’t dare delay. She quickly crossed the corridors, her pleated skirt fluttering in the night breeze like a soft cloud.
She pushed open the door and entered. “Father?”
Gao Jing, dressed in a simple gray cotton robe, was facing away from her as he browsed the books on the shelf. Upon hearing her, he didn’t turn around but asked, “I heard your visit to Qingliang Temple today yielded some substantial results?”
Gao Yuexing closed the door behind her and replied, “We uncovered a list of individuals connected to Prince Wen and captured a fugitive wanted by the court.”
Gao Jing finally turned to look at her and smiled as he asked, “Then, have you identified the murderer of Miss Chen?”
Gao Yuexing hesitated before tentatively answering, “The abbot of Qingliang Temple?”
Gao Jing said, “He was indeed the one orchestrating things behind the scenes. But who was it that acted within the Chen household?”
Gao Yuexing blinked.
Gao Jing lightly tapped her on the nose. “You little girl. I sent you to investigate the murderer, and instead, you brought back a string of unrelated matters.”
Gao Yuexing protested, “Father, how can you say they’re unrelated? There’s clearly a causal connection!”
Gao Jing gave her a sidelong glance. “Xi Heng was here just now.”
Gao Yuexing responded, “Oh… I suppose it was to discuss matters related to the case with you?”
Gao Jing replied, “The Ministry of Justice is only responsible for investigating the murder of Miss Chen. Everything else is unrelated to me.”
Gao Yuexing, exhausted from a day of work and thinking, felt her mind beginning to shut down. While she sensed there was more meaning in her father’s words, she couldn’t quite grasp it. Feeling the urge to take a shortcut, she simply said, “Please enlighten me, Father.”
Gao Jing prompted, “When you and the abbot were talking at Qingliang Temple, you mentioned the whereabouts of the most crucial letter. The abbot dared not speak plainly and could only hint at it in his words. Why was that?”
Gao Yuexing blurted out, “Because someone was eavesdropping.”
She had thought about this on the way back but hadn’t delved into it further.
Gao Jing asked, “Then, who was the eavesdropper on the other side of the wall? Did you figure it out?”
Gao Yuexing froze entirely.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered it, nor that she couldn’t act on it.
But at the time, she had simply overlooked it.
“Father…” Gao Yuexing murmured.
Gao Jing continued, “Xi Heng came to me precisely because of this matter. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind [The idiom symbolizes a situation where someone is so focused on pursuing their goal (or targeting another) that they fail to see a greater threat or rival waiting to take advantage of their actions.]. The one hiding in the courtyard at that time wasn’t just the ‘ear’ you mentioned.”
Gao Yuexing asked, “Did Commander Xi capture that person?”
Gao Jing said, “I asked him to investigate for me, but I didn’t ask him to make any arrests. Besides, it’s not time to close the net yet. Striking too early would only alert the enemy.”
Gao Yuexing pressed on, “Who did Commander Xi discover in that courtyard?”
Gao Jing replied, “In one of the dormitories at Qingliang Temple, there was a concubine from the Chen household. She claimed to be there to pray for the late eldest young lady of the Chen family. Today, Qingliang Temple was thoroughly searched. She hid in a chest next to the abbot’s meditation room and came down the mountain unscathed after the chaos subsided. Hmm, according to Xi Heng, her skills seem quite impressive—she ran over ten miles of mountain roads without breaking a sweat.”
Gao Yuexing pondered aloud, “A concubine… just a concubine… What does Father plan to do?”
Gao Jing said, “Wait.” His eyes narrowed, and the upward curve at the corners of his eyes resembled the cunning gaze of an old fox. He continued, “Wait for Chen Jingchen to protect himself by sacrificing the pawn to save the king.”
—
In Qianqing Palace,
After a long and exhausting day, Li Fuxiang had just lain down in the warm chamber and soon began breathing evenly.
The mute maid lifted the curtain and stepped out, noticing the emperor gazing at her. She gave a respectful bow and gestured in sign language, “Your Majesty, he has fallen asleep.”
The emperor nodded and turned to leave Qianqing Palace. Under the starry night, Xi Heng had been waiting for some time, frost already covering his cloak. Approaching the emperor, Xi Heng whispered something in his ear.
The emperor’s expression subtly changed, and he murmured softly, “The phoenix cries piercingly through the skies—did the abbot of Qingliang Temple truly say that?”
Xi Heng replied, “This servant would never deceive Your Majesty.”
The emperor mused, “Luxuriant are the trees of Cangwu, the cicadas cry in the white dew. That word cries (唳) isn’t exactly auspicious…”
Xi Heng lowered his gaze, saying nothing further.
The emperor turned his head to look at the brightly lit main hall of Qianqing Palace and said, “I’ve been a solitary man for many years. Tell me, do you think he has what it takes to keep the people around him?”