Meng Fu instructed the palace attendants to escort Li Yue back to Baixiang Garden. The Empress Dowager, seeing that she was now alone, finally got up and walked over to ask her: “Finished talking?”
Meng Fu nodded.
In fact, there wasn’t much that needed to be said. The things they wanted to say had almost all been conveyed through the shadow guards’ messages. It was only out of respect for the Empress Dowager’s kind intentions that they exchanged a few idle words.
The Empress Dowager lightly sighed and said to Meng Fu: “Aijia really likes her, just doesn’t know what it is that the Emperor is thinking.”
Whether wanting to confer a consort title or to establish an empress, in any case, one must first separate her from the Marquis of Xuanping.
Meng Fu’s lips lightly pressed together, unsure how to respond to the Empress Dowager.
The Empress Dowager thought that this son of hers had always been decisive in handling matters—why was he hesitating this time? Unable to understand the reason, she could only say, “You think it over yourself.”
Meng Fu responded with a sound of agreement, but these were not things she needed to think about.
She sat in the imperial carriage, lifted one side of the curtain, and cast her gaze upon the silent long street. She did not know when she and the Emperor would switch back.
Once the Mid-Autumn Festival was over, Meng Fu, according to His Majesty’s instructions, notified the shadow guards who were monitoring Prince Xuan that they could cast the net.
It was a moonless and windy night. Prince Xuan had gathered all his strategists and advisors, and united the remaining old followers of the former Crown Prince, intending to mobilize troops and launch an uprising. When the shadow guards made their move, this Highness was delivering a passionate and stirring speech to everyone. He believed that His Majesty had dispatched the capital’s military forces to the southeast, and that the northern frontier was being provoked by foreign tribes—there was no way they’d relax vigilance. The capital’s forces were weak, and this time the advantage was his!
Just as he finished saying “the advantage is mine,” a cold arrow shot out from the shadows and took the life of the advisor beside him. Before Prince Xuan could even react to what was going on, the shadow guards—ghostlike in movement—appeared in the middle of these rebellious military leaders. All sorts of weapons gleamed under the flickering torchlight, striking terror into the heart. The shadow guards efficiently began harvesting heads on the spot. Those who tried to resist were like mantises trying to stop a chariot—overwhelmed instantly. In the blink of an eye, corpses were strewn everywhere.
At dawn the next morning, the red sun rose high, and golden sunlight broke through the clouds, spanning across tens of thousands of miles of mountains and rivers, spreading across the world. A massacre had occurred here the night before. Yet by the time the new day arrived, all the corpses had been cleared and buried, and all weapons and military supplies had been confiscated—so that it was as if nothing had ever happened.
Prince Xuan was captured and imprisoned. Since the previous night, two of the former Crown Prince’s old followers had been rescued by an unknown expert, Meng Fu wanted to come and see whether Prince Xuan knew the identity of this person.
His Highness Prince Xuan had likely been too severely traumatized. The moment he saw Meng Fu, he began to laugh coldly. Meng Fu stood outside the prison gate, her expression calm from beginning to end as she looked at him. Prince Xuan’s mouth twitched from laughing too hard, but her face remained unchanged. Prince Xuan suddenly became somewhat ashamed and angry. He felt like a fool being observed.
When the shadow guards asked about his relationship with that expert, Prince Xuan was just about to say “I don’t know him,” but just as the words reached his lips, he suddenly realized this could very well be a chance to save his life. So he changed his words: “This prince will never tell you.”
Meng Fu could tell at a glance that Prince Xuan didn’t know who the person was at all. If he truly had a connection to such an expert, and then found out that this person had saved someone else but not him—based on Prince Xuan’s personality, he could never possibly wear such an expression.
That Prince Xuan didn’t know the other party was within Meng Fu’s expectations. In this period of time, even how many pairs of underpants were in Prince Xuan’s household had been investigated clearly by the shadow guards. If he had truly come to know such a top-level expert, the shadow guards wouldn’t have remained unaware. Now, keeping Prince Xuan alive was of no use either. Meng Fu left the imperial prison and, according to His Majesty’s words, wrote the imperial decree for bestowing death.
When the officials of the court first heard that Prince Xuan had plotted rebellion, they were all shocked. They still remembered that not long ago, when the remnants of the former Crown Prince’s faction stirred up trouble, His Majesty had, with an iron-blooded hand, cleaned up many people in one sweep. They didn’t know whether this time would be another grand purge of the officials.
Thus, these past few days of morning court had been especially dull. Every official pretended to be more like a quail than the next — especially those who had once been on good terms with Prince Xuan — not daring to say a single word, afraid of angering His Majesty and being dragged out to accompany Prince Xuan in death.
Liu Changlan had been especially tormented these past few days. Prince Xuan had always presented himself as someone fond of nature and poetry, frequently inviting Liu Changlan to paint. The two had quite a close friendship. If His Majesty chose to investigate this matter in depth, Liu’s little life might not be preserved.
Wei Jun’an had never painted for Prince Xuan, but his own young son did have some acquaintance with him. Upon hearing that Prince Xuan had been bestowed death, he even shed two tears, which made Wei Jun’an furious.
There were quite a few colleagues in court who shared the same worries. Though they hadn’t participated in the rebellion, they still feared being implicated.
Wei Jun’an and Liu Changlan privately discussed the matter. After court was dismissed, they proactively came to plead guilty outside Zichen Hall, asking only that His Majesty deal with them decisively.
Whether or not they had participated in the rebellion had already been clearly investigated by the shadow guards. Li Yue, in handling the matter, hadn’t even spared the two a glance. Meng Fu had her own plan, and spoke gently: “Zhen knows that this matter has nothing to do with you two beloved ministers. There is no need for such actions — rise.”
Wei Jun’an and Liu Changlan exchanged a glance — they couldn’t believe that His Majesty was letting them off so easily.
Meng Fu bestowed seats to the two of them, then said to Gao Xi: “Gao Xi, serve two cups of tea.”
She slowly said: “Zhen knows you both had more or less some ties to Prince Xuan. But that doesn’t matter. Whether you were involved in the treasonous plot, Zhen has clarity in heart. Zhen trusts the loyalty of you two beloved ministers — you certainly will not let Zhen down.”
Liu Changlan and Wei Jun’an, having just sat down, immediately knelt again and kowtowed to thank the Emperor for divine grace. Meng Fu had palace servants help them up while speaking more words to soothe their hearts.
These kinds of words had never been said by His Majesty before. Only today did Liu Changlan realize that His Majesty trusted him so deeply. He couldn’t help but lift a hand to wipe the corners of his slightly wet eyes. Beside him, though Wei Jun’an was not as sentimental as Liu, he too was deeply moved.
Meng Fu saw the two of them showing a posture of being willing to sacrifice themselves for the Emperor, and knew the timing was right. She then chatted a bit about how the military officers had dealt with the soldiers under Prince Xuan’s command, and casually said: “In two more days, the military officers will be entering court. Some of them don’t understand court etiquette — you two beloved ministers, help guide them a bit.”
Though the civil officials had agreed to set up positions for military officers in court, they still felt some dissatisfaction in their hearts. At that time, there would most likely be conflicts between them and the newcomers. If Liu Changlan and Wei Jun’an were the first to extend goodwill, then it wouldn’t get too out of hand.
His Majesty promoting military officers into court wasn’t meant to make them argue with the civil officials every day.
Liu Changlan and Wei Jun’an, hearing this, quickly promised Meng Fu: “Your Majesty, rest assured. This humble subject knows what must be done.”
Meng Fu was very pleased by this. Liu Changlan and Wei Jun’an were also very happy. When they left Zichen Hall, they were still thinking how wonderful His Majesty was — may His Majesty always be this way.
The matter of Prince Xuan was concluded. In the blink of an eye, it was already September. Meng Fu and Li Yue had been so busy dealing with the Prince Xuan treason case that they could hardly find free time to go out. They could only trouble the shadow guards to relay letters back and forth. From time to time, His Majesty would place a well-bloomed rose or a strangely shaped leaf into the letters.
In September, the autumn hunt would also be held. Every year, the autumn hunt was held at Jushan Hunting Grounds. Jushan was not far from the capital. Riding on horseback, it would take only two hours. But with the hunting party being large in number, progress would be slower — likely taking a full day.
Meng Fu hadn’t practiced archery during this time. Whatever skills she had originally regained had likely returned to His Majesty along with the body. To avoid making His Majesty lose too much face at the hunt, the day before setting out, she rushed to the imperial garden to shoot a few arrows — the results were predictably poor. It seemed she’d have to feign illness.
When she returned, there were palace maids cleaning the hall. One of them, while raising her arm, accidentally bumped into a rosewood box on the shelf.
The box fell to the thick carpet with a muffled sound. Then the box opened, and from within, a jade pendant fell out. The palace maid was startled and immediately knelt to plead for forgiveness.
Meng Fu’s gaze froze. She didn’t have time to deal with the palace maid. She quickly walked over, lowered her head, and looked at the jade pendant.
It was a small double-fish jade pendant — only one half of it. [双鱼玉佩 (shuangyu yupei): a jade pendant carved in the shape of two fish, traditionally symbolizing harmony, mutual affection, or fate. Often it comes as two matching halves shared between lovers or twins.]
She was dazed for a moment, then bent down, her fingers trembling slightly as she picked it up from the carpet.
It was the Lantern Festival of the eleventh year of Wenkang — a half-crazed old monk had passed by her and the young man, and split a double-fish jade pendant into two halves, stuffing one into her hand, and one into the young man’s hand.
In truth, in the dark workings of fate, everything had long been predestined.