Laughter echoed through the vast palace hall, mingling with the sound of footsteps tapping against the floor.
“Liu Ge’er.”
Duke Jin’an reached out to stop the running Prince Qing.
“Wipe off your sweat and take a rest.”
Seeing Duke Jin’an firmly holding Prince Qing in place, the two eunuchs behind them, panting for breath, couldn’t help but laugh.
“His Highness really is strong,” they said.
Prince Qing, though simple-minded, had surprising strength – when he got stubborn, even two eunuchs couldn’t hold him down.
“Of course,” said Duke Jin’an with a smile. “I have to keep myself strong – otherwise, how could I properly take care of and accompany Liu Ge’er?”
He took the towel offered by the eunuchs and gently wiped Prince Qing’s sweat, then lifted a bowl of tonic soup and fed it to him.
“Your Highness.”
A eunuch hurried in from outside, bowed low, and reported, “They’ve arrived.”
Duke Jin’an’s hand paused for a moment, and Prince Qing seized the chance to dart away.
“That rascal,” Duke Jin’an said with a laugh.
“Your Highness, you should go over now,” the eunuch said quietly.
Duke Jin’an shook his head.
“It’s not the right time yet,” he replied. “If I go so soon, would that mean I’m faster than His Majesty himself?”
“Yes, I was reckless,” the eunuch said, bowing his head even lower.
“No – you were just impatient,” said Duke Jin’an.“What’s there to rush for? Each year has come and gone like this, hasn’t it?”
He looked toward the palace gates, tossed the towel in his hand back to the eunuch, and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
This audience with the Emperor was not held in the Outer Palace’s Hall of Diligent Governance, but within the Inner Palace. Since the visitor was a lady from outside the court – young though she was – the Emperor still wished to avoid impropriety. Thus, the meeting was arranged in the Empress Dowager’s palace, outwardly under the pretext that Her Majesty enjoyed calligraphy.
In truth, what the Empress Dowager was far more curious about were the rumors surrounding the “divine doctor.” But given that this young lady was known for her unyielding rule – never treating the living unless the dying – the Emperor thought that using such a reason would be inauspicious. Worse still, that audacious girl might very well defy an imperial summons.
“So young,” the Empress Dowager said in surprise, looking at the girl kneeling and bowing before her.
So young – this was the first thought that crossed everyone’s mind upon seeing her.
So young, and yet this very girl had stirred up the entire capital, to the point of toying with the Son of Heaven himself.
“She’s seventeen this year,” the Emperor said from beside her.
“Only seventeen? Two years younger than Wei-lang,” the Empress Dowager remarked with a gentle smile.
The Emperor responded softly in agreement.
The atmosphere was warm and cordial, entirely unlike the solemn gravity of the audience hall of state affairs.
“Lift your head and let me have a look,” the Empress Dowager’s voice came from above.
Cheng Jiao-niang answered softly and straightened her posture as she knelt.
Even the Empress Dowager, long accustomed to seeing beauties, was momentarily taken aback.
“You truly are a fine-looking girl,” she said with a warm smile, nodding approvingly. “Graceful and composed. You’re from Jiang-zhou, aren’t you?”
“The Cheng family of Jiang-zhou,” the Emperor replied.
“The same Cheng family once praised as the ‘Foolish Old Men Who Moved the Mountains,’ for digging rivers and building canals?” the Empress Dowager asked.
The Emperor nodded.
“No wonder then,” she said with a chuckle. “With such accumulated virtue, it’s only natural that immortals would watch over your family.”
The Emperor found himself unable to follow up on that remark.
“I heard your immortal master has passed away?” The Empress Dowager shifted the topic at last, turning her gaze to Cheng Jiao-niang.
Cheng Jiao-niang bowed respectfully.
“Your Majesty, I suffered from a foolish affliction – after waking, I could no longer remember the past,” she replied.
As for what Chen Shao had said about the search in Bing-zhou, the Emperor had already sent people to verify it again. There was indeed no deception – the account was entirely true – and the information he obtained was even more detailed than Chen Shao’s.
“He was from Guyuan Mountain,” the Emperor said. “A man of letters by background, though he never achieved success in life.”
Both the Empress Dowager and Cheng Jiao-niang listened intently. In fact, Cheng Jiao-niang even forgot herself and lifted her head to look directly at the Emperor. Her expression remained calm, yet beneath that composure the Emperor could see her urgent curiosity – and the faint tremor of excitement she could not conceal.
It seemed that she truly knew nothing of this man, rather than concealing the truth.
“His surname was Song – given name Jin.”
As the Emperor spoke the name, Cheng Jiao-niang focused for a moment, then slowly shook her head.
“Not him?” the Emperor asked quickly.
“I have no impression,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
“He failed the imperial examinations several times,” the Emperor continued. “Then one day he suddenly went mad – put on a Daoist robe, sang Daoist songs, and disappeared without a trace.”
“So it was still connected to Daoism,” the Empress Dowager nodded. “Perhaps he achieved enlightenment of some kind and wandered off to live in freedom.”
Hearing this, the Emperor felt a twinge of regret.
A man capable of curing a fool and teaching so many remarkable skills – how extraordinary must he have been? How unfortunate that such a person had died.
If he had lived – if he had sent his disciple into the world first, then waited until she became renowned before being invited three times to emerge from seclusion – it would have made a fine story indeed.
Before confirming the truth, that was exactly what the Emperor had imagined. But after repeated inquiries, it was certain: this Song Jin was truly dead, not merely in hiding.
It seemed that those legendary tales of wise sages being sought out by the world were not so easily found in real life.
Cheng Jiao-niang lowered her gaze in silence, yet in her heart she repeated the name Song Jin several times.
It was not a name she knew – unlike her own, Cheng Fang.
But from what the Emperor had just said, she could tell that this man’s sudden madness must have been of the same nature as her own sudden recovery from foolishness.
Who was he? Who was the one who had awakened her?
And if he was the one – why had he died? Why hadn’t he stayed in Bing–zhou to wait for her?
Cheng Jiao-niang’s hands, resting on her knees, slowly clenched into fists.
“Your Majesty,” she said, bowing low. “Might Your Majesty grant me what has been learned about Master Song Jin – his appearance, his story, and whatever else is known of him?”
Her emotions shifted visibly – bewilderment mingled with a tremor of excitement.
Such a reaction was natural, not feigned.
The Emperor nodded.
“Since he was your teacher, it’s only right that this be given to you,” he said, then ordered a eunuch to fetch the report from the Imperial City Guard.
“The calligraphy you write – was that also taught by him?” the Empress Dowager asked, picking up the sheet of writing laid out on the desk before her, unable to hide her admiration.
At first, she had thought it nothing more than a polite formality. But once she actually saw the writing that had been brought in, she finally understood why it was so renowned – and why the Princess of Boyang had wept at home upon seeing it.
“There’s nothing special written here,” she said softly. “Just a name, and the date it was inscribed – yet it moves one to both sorrow and grief.”
“The brush flows with power, unrestrained and sweeping across a thousand miles; at times firm and vigorous, at times fluid and graceful – sometimes like the ancient seal script, sometimes like fine engraving. In its wondrous balance, it feels as though shaped by Heaven itself, a mastery born not of labor but of truth – the grief of utmost loyalty and devotion made manifest.”
“Lady Cheng, your brother did not fall in battle. Still, may you restrain your sorrow.”
Cheng Jiao-niang bowed deeply and touched her forehead to the ground in gratitude.
“Lady Cheng, victory reports have arrived from the northwest – three forts and two strongholds have been reclaimed. This is all thanks to the Divine Arm Bows,” the Emperor said with a smile.
Cheng Jiao-niang immediately bowed and touched her forehead to the ground once more.
“Your Majesty’s words are mistaken,” she said respectfully. “This is the merit of the brave soldiers of the northwest, who fought fearlessly and loyally for the nation; it is the blessing of Heaven upon Your Majesty’s sacred virtue. How could mere craftsmanship ever surpass the power of human courage?”
The Emperor laughed softly at her words.
“Lady Cheng, your elder brothers have all been granted rewards. I know that those Divine Arm Bows of wrought iron were crafted by your own hand. Tell me – what reward do you desire?”
“Your Majesty, first of all, these things do not truly belong to me; they were taught to me by another. Secondly, I remember little of what I once learned. Without my brothers – without their requests and their resolve – I would never have thought of such things. Moreover, had it not been for Your Majesty’s generosity and benevolence, none of this would have come to pass,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
“So, if one must speak of credit – none of it belongs to me. It is neither mine, nor due to me. How could I dare to claim any merit?”
The Emperor was momentarily taken aback by her words. At first, he felt like laughing, but the more he thought about it, the harder it became to smile – his expression turned rather peculiar. Meanwhile, the Empress Dowager had already burst into laughter.
“This child truly knows how to speak,” she said, smiling. “So modest, never claiming credit for herself, and able to express such convincing reasoning.”
The Emperor gave a wry smile. This young lady not only refused to take credit but managed to compliment him in passing – yet she hadn’t forgotten to slip in a remark that left him at a loss for words.
It was because her brothers had once sought her help that she had remembered, had acted. But now that those brothers were gone, she said she could no longer think of anything else.
Was that truly because she couldn’t think of anything – or was there a trace of resentment behind her words?
If there was resentment, that wasn’t so bad. At least it meant she still had desires, still held things in her heart. Better that than being utterly numb and indifferent.
After all, she was only a young lady. A touch of temper was no great fault – and besides, she still remembered who she was speaking to, and had not forgotten to flatter him a little.
Her conduct at this moment was entirely in keeping with her usual manner: steady and composed, neither defiant nor sycophantic, yet always measured to perfection.
It was clear this was not something Chen Shao had coached her to do. This time, her actions were truly her own, while Chen Shao and the others had merely seized the chance to follow her lead.
As they were speaking, hurried footsteps sounded outside – thump, thump, thump – as if someone were running.
The Emperor frowned. In the Empress Dowager’s palace, who would dare behave so rudely? But almost at once, a thought crossed his mind, and his expression relaxed; he nodded to himself in quiet understanding.
There was some commotion at the door, a brief exchange of words, and soon a eunuch entered, looking somewhat uneasy.
“Your Majesty, Duke Jin’an requests an audience.”
The Empress Dowager laughed.
“See? Someone still wishes to meet her after all,” she said to the Emperor, referring to the summons under the pretext of consulting the ‘divine doctor.’
The Emperor smiled as well.
Of course he would come – how could he not? For this young lady, the duke carried both resentment and longing. He wanted to hate her, yet could not stop himself from helping her. And what else could drive him, if not the same reason as hers – a loved one he could not bear to lose?
“Let him in,” the Emperor said.
The eunuch obeyed the order, and moments later, hurried footsteps sounded again outside the door.
Before Cheng Jiao-niang could even lift her head, she felt a sudden rush of wind as someone stopped right in front of her. From beneath her lowered gaze, she saw a pair of finely crafted official boots revealed beneath the swaying hem of a robe. At the same time, a faint fragrance – different from the palace’s usual sandalwood scent – drifted lightly into her breath.
“Lady Cheng, you’re here.”
The clear, bright voice fell from above her, carrying an excitement he could not quite conceal.
Cheng Jiao-niang took a step back and bowed deeply in greeting.
…
The Imperial Consort tapped her long, lacquered nails rhythmically against the table, ignoring the golden cup a palace maid offered her.
“Duke Jin’an has indeed gone,” a eunuch hurried in and reported in a low voice.
The Consort gave a cold, mocking laugh, then withdrew her hand and took the golden cup from the maid, sipping it slowly.
“And then? Did she agree to treat him as soon as His Majesty and the Empress Dowager made their offer?” she asked.
The eunuch shook his head.
“They haven’t yet spoken about Prince Qing’s condition,” he replied.
The Consort’s hand stilled, and she looked at him.
“Not yet?” she repeated, then smiled faintly and lifted the cup again to drink at leisure. “That’s just as well. After waiting this long, there’s no need to rush – it would only make us look greedy.”
When she finished, she set the cup down and rose to her feet.
“Come,” she said. “Let’s go meet this Lady Cheng ourselves. I’ve heard her calligraphy is said to be the finest in this world – perhaps we should invite her to teach the First Prince.”
Chen Shi’ba-niang had been waiting on the side for some time, though waiting here was hardly dull – the shelves were lined with all kinds of scrolls and books. She held one in her hands, reading as she listened to the voices coming from the room within.
“…Her Ladyship said His Highness should go to the Empress Dowager’s palace after class.”
“…What for?”
“…That Lady Cheng has arrived. Even the Empress Dowager wishes to see her writing – surely she means to have her teach His Highness…”
“…Then what about Lady Chen…”
“…Ah, well, if there’s already a ‘number one,’ who would still look at number two…”
Chen Shi’ba-niang slowly set down the scroll in her hands.
“Lady Chen,” someone called.
Startled, Chen Shi’ba-niang quickly rose to her feet and answered. Her sudden movement made the young eunuch who had called her jump in surprise as well.
“Lady Chen, His Highness requests your presence inside,” he said hastily, stepping aside to invite her in.
Chen Shi’ba-niang responded softly, straightened her back, folded her hands before her, and walked forward with careful steps.
For all that Minister Chen Shao was said to be so fierce in court that even the Emperor hesitated to cross him – his daughter, upon entering the palace, still carried a trace of nervousness. But in the end, it wasn’t so frightening after all.
The young eunuch chuckled quietly to himself and turned to follow her in.
The officials from the Imperial Academy who had been lecturing on the classics had already withdrawn, leaving only the First Prince seated before his desk.
At thirteen, the First Prince had shed the last traces of childhood. Years of constant instruction – from etiquette to the Confucian canon, from arithmetic to governance – had instilled in him a poise and dignity far beyond his age.
“Lady Chen,” he greeted her with a precise, half-bow – the salute of a pupil to a teacher.
Chen Shi’ba-niang returned the courtesy. She did not begin the calligraphy lesson right away; instead, her gaze drifted over the desk and the space beside him.
It was covered with scrolls and books.
“All of these are what Your Highness must read?” she couldn’t help asking.
Her own brothers at home studied as well, but none of the boys her brothers’ age read nearly this many texts.
The First Prince nodded solemnly. Setting down the scroll he had been holding, he picked up another.
“Lady Chen, if you need a moment to prepare, I shall read a chapter first,” he said.
Chen Shi’ba-niang’s gaze fell upon the book before him.
“You’ve already reached this one?” she asked.
The First Prince nodded.
“Of course. One must be diligent in one’s studies,” he replied.
“Oh yes, His Highness studies until very late every night – so dedicated, so hardworking,” the eunuch beside him said with proud flattery. “Everyone praises His Highness for his scholarly excellence.”
It was true – Chen Shi’ba-niang had heard even from Chen Shao at home that the First Prince’s studies were outstanding.
“So His Highness truly is this diligent and industrious,” she said with a smile.
“Whether in study or in conduct, one must be diligent,” the First Prince said solemnly. “Surely, Lady Chen, the progress you’ve made in your calligraphy also comes from diligence, does it not?”
Yes – of course it did. Her progress had come from hard work and perseverance.
Chen Shi’ba-niang nodded.
It was all right. As long as one worked hard, as long as one was diligent, there would always be results. She wasn’t afraid – no, she wouldn’t be afraid.
“Your Highness, please continue your reading. I’ll begin by writing a few characters,” she said.
The First Prince nodded and picked up his scroll, reading with focus and composure.
Chen Shi’ba-niang turned away; the anxious quickness in her steps gradually steadied. With a faint smile on her lips, she approached her desk, took up the brush that had long been prepared, swept her sleeve aside, and began to write.
At that moment, the Imperial Consort stepped into the Empress Dowager’s palace – only to find that Cheng Jiao-niang was no longer there.
“She’s gone?” the Consort asked in mild surprise.
“She went to see Prince Qing,” the Empress Dowager said with a gentle smile, her tone carrying a trace of relief and satisfaction.
That satisfaction, however, made the Consort’s hand – hidden within her sleeve – clench tightly.
“Cheng Fang.”
Duke Jin’an turned back to look at the woman following behind him, and smiled faintly.
“When you come to my house, there’s no need to climb over the wall.”
Cheng Jiao-niang lifted her head to look at him, then glanced toward the palace gates ahead, which were being slowly pushed open by a few eunuchs. She smiled softly.
