While outsiders were busy making their own guesses, Cheng Jiaoniang was still inside the imperial palace.
The morning court had long since dispersed, yet the Emperor had not gone to rest.
Seated calmly in the Hall of Diligent Governance, he had just taken a pill to clear his mind – after venting a bout of anger. But when he saw Li Mao enter, his mood instantly improved.
For the moment, the Emperor set aside thoughts of how this matter might stir changes in court politics, and asked with eager interest about the newly forged divine weapon.
“My deepest thanks to the lady for her guidance,” said Li Mao, bowing first to the Emperor, then to Cheng Jiao-niang, his voice filled with excitement.
“I dare not take credit,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, bending slightly in return.
“Lady Cheng,” the Emperor asked, “Li Mao says that this firework differs from the common kind. Was this also one of your designs?”
“It is merely a little craft my master once used for amusement,” Cheng Jiao-niang answered.
“To be able to play in a way no one else can – that, too, is a great art,” the Emperor said with a sigh.
Once again, he felt a pang of regret in his heart – but there was nothing to be done. He could only attend to what lay before him. Turning to Li Mao, he asked, “How many of these stone projectiles can be produced quickly?”
Li Mao bowed deeply.
“Your Majesty, the stone rounds are easy enough – the difficulty lies in the gunpowder mixture,” he said. “It will take some effort.”
The Emperor nodded.
“Whatever you need, ask for it directly,” he said, unable to conceal his delight. “If we can send some to the border troops before the New Year, perhaps we can present the western bandits with a fine New Year’s gift, eh?”
“I’m afraid it won’t be ready in time,” Li Mao hurriedly said. “These stone projectiles are extremely dangerous to use – Your Majesty knows about the explosion and the great fire at my house.”
Indeed dangerous, the Emperor nodded, the scene he had witnessed earlier flashing before his eyes.
“And loading and igniting them – the soldiers must be thoroughly trained, otherwise they won’t harm the enemy and will only wound themselves,” Li Mao continued.
The Emperor nodded.
“Then we’ll have to assign a dedicated detachment of troops to operate them,” he said.
Li Mao responded affirmatively.
“There is one more problem,” he added. “As Your Majesty also saw, I modified the stone-throwing cart, but the results are still unsatisfactory – after two or three uses it breaks. At that rate the wear is too great.”
Now that was the real problem. The Emperor frowned; in other words, this stone projectile simply isn’t practical to deploy. A single wagon requiring ten horses to pull it – no matter how sturdy, it would inevitably be abandoned.
“A stone-throwing cart?”
Cheng Jiao-niang, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.
“You say it was by my instruction, and you even call me ‘master’ – I can’t let the name be empty. I’ll tell you how to modify the stone-throwing cart so it suits your stone projectiles.”
Modify the stone-throwing cart to fit the stone projectiles!
The Emperor and Li Mao brightened with joy.
See – of course. This was exactly what she meant about only thinking of what to do when there’s a need.
When her sworn brothers needed horses, she gave horseshoes; when they needed to keep killing the enemy for the state, she gave the Divine Arm Bow.
Her sworn brothers are gone, and yet another man, Li Mao, has appeared.
From a single meeting and a single remark he proclaimed her his master – surely this young lady intends to repay him, does she not?
The Emperor recalled what the Imperial City Guard had found out – that this young lady had sworn brotherhood with the brothers of Maoyuan Mountain simply because they had, quite by accident, found the little servant she had lost.
Just for that – she became sworn siblings with them, even gifted them the Tai Ping Residence, and truly treated them as brothers. They spoke of going to war, and she sent them to the battlefield; they sought glory, and she helped them win it.
At that thought, the Emperor couldn’t help but feel a chill run down his spine.
What kind of gratitude and repayment was this?
To know kindness and repay it – that is good, that is good. What he feared were men like Feng Lin, who know kindness yet do not repay it!
As he thought of that, anger welled up again – to think that man had dared call him a muddle-headed ruler!
That damned Feng Lin!
He squandered good fortune for nothing. Look at Li Mao, on the other hand – fortune has fallen right into his lap.
This lady has never before taken a disciple, and he has become her very first.
What immense luck that is!
The Emperor looked over and saw that Li Mao clearly understood the weight of her words. Overcome with joy, he dropped to his knees with a thud.
“Master,” he said, bowing his head to the floor. “I thank you for not despising me and accepting me as a disciple.”
Before Cheng Jiaoniang could even respond, he began kowtowing again and again, thump, thump, as if afraid that if he hesitated even for a moment, this lady might take back what she had said.
“Well then,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, “next time someone accuses me of being mysterious and putting on airs, I can say I don’t know you – and it’ll be perfectly true.”
The Emperor couldn’t help but laugh.
Truly a young lady – she bears grudges, all right.
Within just half a day, the Imperial City Guard had already investigated Li Mao thoroughly, confirming that he truly had no prior connection with Cheng Jiao-niang. They even questioned the gate guards from that day: all confirmed that Li Mao had stood on the city wall for half a day, staring blankly at the fireworks – so much so that he became the butt of jokes.
To have watched fireworks and conceived of weapons – that took a certain kind of mind. When the Emperor had granted him office, it seemed now a sign of his own sharp judgment.
He completely forgot that he had only bestowed the title at the time, not chosen the man himself.
It was only after the fire that Li Mao was stripped of his rank – the fault of the lower officials, blind to talent.
By this reasoning, Li Mao had first been promoted by the Emperor, and only later had he taken Cheng Jiao-niang as his master.
The Emperor couldn’t help a touch of pride.
“Lady Cheng, you worry too much,” he said with a half-playful tone. “The speaker may be unintentional, but the listener has heart; the maker may act without intent, yet the onlooker finds meaning. If anyone wants to accuse you again, they’ll have to think twice about their own intentions first.”
As they were speaking, an eunuch hurried in, his face alight with excitement.
“Your Majesty,” he said, dropping to his knees and bowing to the floor, “congratulations to Your Majesty!”
“Congratulations?”
The Emperor froze – what joy could there be now?
“Just now, Consort An was feeling unwell,” the eunuch said, lifting his head. “The imperial doctors were summoned for an examination – they say she is with child.”
At those words, the Emperor’s expression turned to astonishment.
Truly… truly…?
“Cheng – Lady Cheng! You’re here just in time – go and have a look,” he said instinctively, turning toward Cheng Jiao-niang.
Cheng Jiao-niang bowed.
“Your Majesty, I do not know how to examine such cases,” she said. “I only know how to diagnose illnesses that are beyond saving.”
The Emperor had no heart to pursue the matter further. He dismissed Li Mao and Cheng Jiao-niang, and hurried off to inquire into the details himself.
“She is indeed pregnant,” the imperial doctor confirmed after checking several times.
After dismissing the doctor, the Emperor still found it hard to believe.
“Your Majesty,” said Consort An softly from her couch, reaching out to tug at his sleeve. She leaned close, her voice coy and bashful. “It was from that night – the night of October twenty-fourth.”
October twenty-fourth.
The Emperor was momentarily lost in thought. Yes, he remembered – he had indeed stayed in Consort An’s palace that night. But… what else had happened that day?
That was the day Duke Jin’an had come to see him – bringing along some pastries.
And of course, taking the chance to speak well on Lady Cheng’s behalf.
“Were these pastries made especially for Lady Cheng’s visit?” the Emperor had asked.
“No,” the duke had said. “The ones made for Lady Cheng have already been eaten. These were made specially for Your Majesty and the consorts – with Lady Cheng’s advice, we adjusted the ingredients. Please try them, Your Majesty.”
The pastries!
“The pastries I brought that day – did you eat them too?” the Emperor suddenly asked.
At the time, he hadn’t been able to eat much himself, and since he was coming to Consort An’s quarters, he had simply brought them along.
Consort An was caught off guard – it had been so long, how could she remember what she’d eaten? But she knew well how to answer before the Emperor.
“I did,” she said earnestly, nodding. “They were specially brought by Your Majesty – of course I liked them. I didn’t even let anyone else have a taste.”
Duke Jin’an, the child-bringing kid, the purifying melody, the pastries she had advised upon, blessings, the Daoist patriarch…
The Emperor felt his mind spinning – stray and inexplicable thoughts tumbling one over another.
“Your Majesty,” Consort An said with a laugh, shaking his arm, “your health has recovered! Look at Tong Neihan – he’s older than you, and he had two children in the past three years!”
Tong Neihan! Those medicines! Lady Cheng’s medicines!
The Emperor’s heart thundered in his chest – could it really have been because of those few pastries?
This was… this was wonderful!
Though he knew full well that Cheng Jiao-niang was no disciple of some Daoist patriarch, and talk of her being an immortal’s pupil was sheer nonsense, in that moment he could not help an inexplicable surge of excitement.
Perhaps…
…
“What? Consort An is pregnant?”
Hearing the news delivered by the Imperial Consort’s attendants, Attendant Scholar Gao was startled – but quickly shook his head.
“So she’s pregnant. Let her be. When the child’s born, it’ll just be another little prince for the royal household to raise. Who cares about one more prince?”
“No, my lord – Her Ladyship said…” the palace maid hurriedly interjected. She glanced around, lowered her voice, and whispered, “They say it happened after His Majesty and Consort An ate the pastries that Duke Jin’an brought.”
“Nonsense!” Attendant Scholar Gao scoffed, lounging lazily back on the couch.
“But, my lord,” the maid pressed on, “those pastries from Duke Jin’an – they say Lady Cheng made them herself.”
Lady Cheng?
Attendant Scholar Gao sat up at once.
Why was she involved in everything?
Because they ate her pastries – the Emperor’s consort became pregnant?
“Now that,” Attendant Scholar Gao said slowly, “is a matter of consequence.”
