Though the curfew was fast approaching, there were still carriages moving along the main roads in Jianping.
The patrolling imperial guards made no move to halt them – any discerning eye could tell at a glance that, though the carriage was not ornate, the five horses harnessed before it marked it unmistakably as belonging to a person of high rank.
In matters of official rites and regulations, the Great Zhou dynasty followed many precedents set by its predecessors. As the saying went, “The Sovereign rides with six horses, feudal lords with five, ministers with four, officials of lower rank with three, scholars with two, and commoners with one.” Since this carriage was drawn by five horses, it likely belonged to a marquis.
Inside the carriage was General Tao Jia, General of Charlots and Cavalry. Advanced in years, he had few remaining ambitions after pacifying the western tribes and no desire to involve himself in the court’s power struggles. Holding no active official post since returning to the capital, he often took leisurely outings. That day, he had left the city early in the morning and was only returning as evening fell. The moment he stepped through his gate, an attendant hurried to inform him that an emissary from the palace had come at midday with an imperial summons. Tao Jia immediately donned his court robes and hastened toward the palace, arriving just before the curfew took effect.
The palace eunuchs were familiar with the elderly general. As soon as he crossed the central gate, he was ushered directly into the side hall of the Western Yong Palace.
Wen Yanran dined a little later than usual today. Seeing Tao Jia arrive, she granted him a seat and invited him to join the meal.
“It has been several days since we last met. Your spirit appears even more vigorous, Minister Tao.”
Tao Jia gave a slight bow. Coming from a family of military generals, he was somewhat less polished in speech than the civil officials. He swallowed the nearly uttered words, “Your Majesty has grown taller,” and instead said, “Your Majesty’s bearing grows ever more majestic and splendid – a true blessing for the nation.”
Wen Yanran smiled faintly, choosing not to dwell on the slightly stilted manner of her minister’s words.
Tao Jia was a senior official from the reign of the late emperor and had attended court banquets in the past. Comparing those experiences with the present, he understood that the current sovereign truly lived up to the rumors of having no particular fondness for lavish delicacies. Of course, he did not know that compared to the late Emperor Li, who insisted on the finest food and drink, Wen Yanran had adopted a semi-resigned, “it’s beyond saving, let it be what it will” attitude toward the Great Zhou’s culinary arts – which still lacked an adequate variety of spices.
Aside from no longer using rare ingredients, the current emperor’s tastes also differed from the late emperor’s. Tao Jia sampled several dishes and found that many carried the fragrance of sesame. It seemed the emperor preferred vegetable oil over expensive animal fat. The Imperial Household Department had been diligently attuned to the ruler’s preferences, and now when cooking, they more often heated oil in a pot to high temperature before quickly stir-frying the dishes.
In addition to the stir-fried dishes, the banquet also featured a stewed quail dish. During the reign of the late Emperor Dao, he had greatly enjoyed raising chickens and quails, primarily for the amusement of watching them fight. After Wen Yanran ascended the throne, some had followed the old precedent and presented quails to the court, only for those little birds to directly end up as an extra course on the imperial banquet table. Having earnestly tried to infer the Emperor’s will, they concluded it was likely a silent warning. They promptly and prudently restrained their family members, and the extravagant practices within Jianping also tightened as a result.
When Wen Yanran later learned of this matter, she was somewhat perplexed. Her reading before her transmigration hadn’t given her deep insight into ancient entertainment, and without someone hinting, she truly hadn’t known quails had uses beyond being food…
Once the Emperor finished her meal, Tao Jia immediately set down his chopsticks as well. Palace attendants approached holding a bronze basin filled with warm water for the sovereign to wash her hands. Beside it lay a wooden tray holding scented bath beans and a cotton towel.
In the past, though Emperor Li had been unskilled at making money, he had excelled at boosting domestic demand through spending – insisting on silk for wiping away moisture, for example. After the current emperor ascended the throne, she switched everything to cotton cloth.
Wen Yanran was aware of the palace’s old practices. As a future candidate for a “tyrannical ruler,” she naturally had no desire to be overly frugal with daily expenses. She was just a little puzzled – hadn’t her predecessors noticed that, compared to cotton cloth, although silk absorbed water well, it was simply too thin in terms of thickness?
As for that item called “bath beans,” it was said to be a new invention personally named by the Emperor. Previously, the palace had mostly used rice water or soap pods for handwashing. Several months earlier, the Imperial Household Department, in an effort to please the Emperor, mixed bean flour with spices and soap pods to create “bath beans.” These were now also sold externally, becoming a new source of revenue.
The Director of the Imperial Household, Hou Suo, had also heard the outside rumors but had no outlet for his grievance – this item truly was not a new discovery by the Imperial Household Department. Its appearance in the palace came about entirely because once, while washing her hands, the Emperor casually instructed an attendant to “bring the bath beans.”
Responding to the Emperor with “There is no such thing in the palace” was clearly incompatible with the professional standards of the Imperial Household Department. As a group of inner officials specialized in serving the emperor for centuries, they could only tell the Emperor “there is” or “there can be.” Afterward, Hou Suo summoned the skilled craftsmen under the department’s jurisdiction to carefully study the matter. Judging by the literal meaning, “bath beans” obviously related to washing, and the material likely came from beans. But how could beans alone be used to wash hands? Presumably, some additional ingredients had been mixed in.
The Imperial Household Department put its heart into the research and finally managed to create the bath beans. Hou Suo initially did not understand why the Emperor had instructed them to prepare such somewhat luxurious items. It was only after being reminded by two vice commisioners from the City Bureau that he realized, although the bath beans were simple to make, their novelty and association with the palace allowed them to command high prices outside, providing a useful supplement to the heavily burdened treasury.
Hou Suo felt a lingering sense of unease afterward. Though the current emperor was young, her mind was astute and thorough, always thinking steps ahead of others. A casual remark from her had helped them resolve their accounting issues. Initially, he had feared her imperial authority and dared not disobey; now, besides that original fear, he also held far greater respect. Officials in the outer court might not know, but those within the inner court all understood – since ascending the throne, the new emperor had truly been diligent and hardworking in governance, tirelessly devoted day and night.
Initially, he had worried that the Emperor was overly suspicious and ruthless, making it difficult for old officials like him to end well. Now, he was more concerned that the Emperor was exhausting her spirit daily, neglecting her health, and would struggle to live a long life.
As the dishes and plates were cleared away, Wen Yanran wiped her hands and remarked casually, “Minister Tao, Lujia City has been taken.”
Tao Jia, a seasoned general himself, was greatly astonished by the news. “I recall Your Majesty only dispatched two thousand troops to General Shi…”
Were it not for his understanding of Shi Zhuhe’s character, Tao Jia might almost have suspected that he had falsified the military report to claim credit.
The late emperor had also sent troops to war, once achieving the feat of deploying a hundred thousand soldiers to besiege five thousand Western Tribes defenders – only to be easily repelled by them.
This outcome was not uncommon; as military strategy teaches, “use tenfold forces to besiege.” The attacking side must have overwhelming numerical superiority. However, if supplies fail or the defending general performs exceptionally, being repelled is a common occurrence. Yet the late emperor failed to grasp this, erupting in fury at the time, followed by a series of disruptive operations like changing commanders mid-battle, turning a retreat into a full-scale rout. In the end, only one-tenth of the troops managed to withdraw within the Shangxing Pass. If not for the advantage of the terrain, those defeated troops could very well have surged all the way back to Jianzhou. In contrast, the new emperor’s actions were truly worthy of being recorded in military annals.
Tao Jia fell into his habitual analytical thinking. “Since the letter has now reached Jianping, General Shi must have entered the city roughly five days ago…”
Wen Yanran interrupted, “The letter hasn’t arrived yet. You’ll have to wait another two days to see it. As for the day he entered the city, it was probably the day before yesterday.”
With her prestige now firmly established, Wen Yanran no longer needed any excuses for how she learned news from distant places – her ministers were seasoned enough to come up with their own explanations.
True to form, Tao Jia raised no questions, simply saying, “I hope General Shi can hold the city.”
Wen Yanran stood up and descended from the dais. The hem of her black robe swept over the stone floor like flowing night. General Tao, now the highest-ranking military official in the court, rose and stood with bowed head. Only after the Emperor had passed him did he follow a half-step behind, cautiously trailing his sovereign.
It was Wen Yanran’s habit not to sit immediately after a meal. She strolled through the palace garden to aid digestion and took the opportunity to discuss the military situation in the east with Tao Jia.
“General Shi and his men didn’t take Lujia City by storm. Instead, they seized it through a ruse, taking advantage of the moment when the city’s elite troops were lured outside.”
Tao Jia said, “In that case, the main rebel forces probably haven’t suffered heavy losses. Once they return to reinforce, if they launch a full-scale siege while the city’s morale is still unsettled, they might retake Lujia City.”
Wen Yanran nodded slightly and smiled, “You are right. But if those rebels believe they are caught between two fronts, they likely won’t dare to advance boldly.”
She had previously hinted to Ren Feihong to leave a few fortress manors untouched and sow discord among them. That way, the rebels couldn’t be sure of their loyalties and would hesitate in their actions, allowing Shi Zhuhe and his men to act with greater ease.
“Alternatively, those bandits might also choose to fortify themselves within their strongholds, send letters calling for reinforcements, and wait until their allied troops have gathered before launching an attack.”
Tao Jia replied, “We can only hope our troops will be faster than theirs.”
The rebels could call for reinforcements, and so could Shi Zhuhe and his men. Wen Yanran, having long anticipated disloyalty in the east, had naturally made preparations. The troops at the central camp in Jianzhou had never been disbanded; they could march collectively to Lankang at a single command.
In Tao Jia’s view, victory at Lujia City entirely depended on which side’s reinforcements arrived faster.
The sun sank in the west, and night draped down like layers of sheer gauze. The stone lanterns lining the palace path had long been lit, their orange glow illuminating the stone steps below. A night breeze brushed past, carrying with it the slow, drifting scent of atractylodes.
Attendants on both sides carried palace lanterns, the beeswax wicks glowing with tranquil, soft flames.
This season, the autumn chrysanthemums had already withered, but the plum blossoms had yet to bloom.
Birds and insects were silent. The moonlight from above mingled with the lamplight below, and the interlaced shadows of trees lightly fell upon the young sovereign’s robe hem.
The Emperor smiled faintly. “Actually, they have a third option: turn their troops back to attack toward Jianping, delay the reinforcements I send to Lujia City, and then dispatch another force from the east to recapture the city.”
Tao Jia pondered, “If those people truly had the resolve…”
The Emperor clasped her hands behind her back. “If the east were entirely in the hands of those with ambition, why not act in such a manner? After this battle, the loyalty of the eastern people could be tested and revealed at once.”
Hearing this, Tao Jia stepped in front of the emperor, faced her, and bowed deeply. “Your servant, Tao Jia, is willing to exert every effort in service to Your Majesty.”
