September in the capital is the finest time of the year.
Inside the Emperor’s bedchamber, several palace maids chatted and laughed as they arranged chrysanthemums.
“Your Highness, would this be a suitable spot?” Consort An turned and inquired.
The Empress sat by the Emperor’s bedside, taking a towel from a maid to wipe the Emperor’s face.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Your Highness, you didn’t even look,” Consort An chided gently, then added as something came to mind, “I sent some chrysanthemums to the Empress Dowager as well, but she ended up smashing every one of them.”
“Didn’t we agree not to disturb the Empress Dowager while she is resting?” the Empress frowned.
“Your Highness, you entrusted me with managing the inner palace – how could I neglect Her Majesty the Empress Dowager?” Consort An said with a playful smile.
How could one bear to let a splendid robe be worn only in the dark? Now that she held the highest authority in the inner palace, it was only natural to enjoy it to the fullest.
Footsteps echoed from outside the door.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince has arrived,” a eunuch announced.
Consort An promptly curtsied and withdrew, leaving through a side chamber.
Fang Bocong entered the hall and bowed respectfully to the Empress and the Emperor.
The Empress looked at him with a gentle smile as he paid his respects.
“Has the grand court assembly adjourned?” she asked. “Are you still coming here to discuss state affairs?”
Fang Bocong nodded.
“Wait a moment, then. I will finish administering His Majesty’s medicine shortly,” the Empress said as she sat down.
“Let me do it,” Fang Bocong offered.
“You should go and have your meal first. Showing filial piety isn’t about one or two gestures,” the Empress replied with a light laugh. “Besides, while you wish to fulfill your duty as a son, I must also attend to my responsibilities as a wife.”
Fang Bocong acknowledged with a smile, bowed, and moved to the other side, instructing the eunuchs to serve the meal.
“Send some hot broth to the court officials outside,” he added. “The weather is cold, and they have been standing since early morning. Let them warm themselves a little.”
The eunuchs acknowledged the order and hurried away.
“Everyone says the Crown Prince has a temper,” the Empress remarked with a smile to the eunuch beside her. “But he truly has a kind heart.”
The eunuchs responded with polite smiles and nods of agreement.
“When senior ministers respond in court, the Crown Prince even grants them seats,” they added. “He truly mirrors His Majesty’s generosity and benevolence.”
Of course, neither the Emperor nor the Empress – descendants of Emperor Taizong -wished to hear remarks about the Crown Prince resembling the legacy of the Great Emperor.
The Empress turned her gaze toward the Emperor.
“His Majesty has always been fond of him since he was a child and personally guided him in state affairs,” she said softly, a smile gracing her lips. “Although the Crown Prince is not His Majesty’s own son, he grew up by his side, learning from him day by day. It is only natural that he resembles His Majesty.”
The eunuchs murmured in agreement as they watched the Empress accept the medicinal broth from a palace maid. They then stepped forward to support the Emperor, bringing over a spouted vessel.
“Your Highness, Princess Consort Xiu has not yet departed,” a eunuch whispered.
The funeral of Crown Prince Xuanwen had already concluded, and members of the imperial clan had gradually left the capital. Only Princess Consort Xiu remained, claiming illness as the reason to stay in the capital for recuperation.
“It has been almost a month now,” the eunuch added quietly.
The Empress stirred the broth slowly, her movements calm and deliberate.
“Let her rest for a year if she wishes,” she said softly. “Crown Prince Xuanwen is no longer here.”
What does Crown Prince Xuanwen have to do with His Highness the Crown Prince and Princess Consort Xiu? The eunuch was puzzled.
“Back when Crown Prince Xuanwen had his accident, Prince Wei smashed an entire room full of gifts – have you forgotten?” the Empress said.
The eunuchs had to think for a moment before they recalled. Such minor matters had truly escaped their notice.
“Prince Wei does not wish to remember the past, nor does he want to see those from before,” the Empress explained, gently blowing on the medicinal broth. “If anyone forces him to dwell on it, they cannot blame him for having a temper.”
Whether others were pleased or displeased, the Crown Prince paid little mind. In any case, he would never allow himself to be unhappy.
Understanding dawned on the eunuchs, and they smiled.
“In truth, His Highness the Crown Prince is deeply devoted to those he cares for,” one eunuch remarked.
The Empress nodded in agreement, then turned her gaze toward the emperor. The eunuchs hurriedly supported His Majesty as they watched the Empress administer the medicine.
Though the Emperor could swallow, he remained unconscious and unable to care for himself. Feeding him medicine was a laborious task – a small bowl of broth took a full incense stick’s time to finish.
“Your Highness has gone through much trouble. These tasks could be left to us servants,” a eunuch said, watching as the Empress wiped sweat from her brow with a handkerchief.
The Empress smiled and gently dabbed the Emperor’s lips.
“It matters little who performs the task. What differs is the sentiment behind it,” she said.
“Nowadays, only Your Highness holds such sentiment,” the eunuch remarked with a sigh.
“That is not entirely true,” the Empress replied. “It is simply that in the past, His Majesty received too much devotion.”
With that, she rose to her feet.
“Enough, let us not delay matters of state.”
The Empress stepped out of the Emperor’s bedchamber and glanced back to see court officials filing in one after another.
Consort An, who had been waiting nearby, came forward to greet her and personally supported the Empress as they walked.
“Your Highness, do you think His Majesty can hear them?” she suddenly asked.
Apart from grand court assemblies, which the Emperor was unable to attend, the Crown Prince insisted on conducting all court affairs in the Emperor’s bedchamber – even reviewing memorials took place there, with each one read aloud to His Majesty.
While the outside world widely praised the Crown Prince’s profound filial devotion, many also privately mocked him.
Some called it affectation, others accused him of seeking fame, and there were those who labeled him cunning and hypocritical.
“Sometimes, people do things not for anyone to hear or see,” the Empress replied.
“Then for what reason?” Consort An pressed.
It was only natural for a woman to dress up for those who appreciated her – or for a person to act for an audience.
“For nothing at all,” the Empress said.
How could that be?
Consort An thought to herself, though she dared not speak it aloud. She was no fool.
The thought of a fool reminded her of something.
“Your Highness, have you visited the Crown Princess?” she whispered.
The Empress’s footsteps faltered slightly.
Ever since the palace coup, Cheng Jiao-niang had not made another appearance. From the Duke’s residence to the Crown Prince’s palace, she remained secluded within the inner quarters, and gradually, rumors spread that the Crown Princess was ill.
It was said she suffered from an ailment, yet no imperial doctor had ever been summoned to examine her. Given her identity as the renowned divine doctor, the rumors grew increasingly far-fetched.
The Empress, however, privately believed it was due to injuries sustained during the palace coup. She never imagined the wounds would be so severe.
She had proposed visiting the Crown Princess, but the Crown Prince tactfully declined.
No one knew what had truly happened.
The tranquil Eastern Palace grew lively in the afternoon as footsteps echoed through the courtyards. Eunuchs and maids bowed deeply in greeting.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”
Fang Bocong strode briskly with his hands clasped behind his back. The maids at the door pulled it open, and those inside followed him into the cleansing chamber. After washing and changing, he removed his formal crown prince attire, donning instead a casual moon-white robe. He left his belt untied, his hair loosely secured with a wooden hairpin as he stepped out.
“What did she eat today?” he asked.
Two maids in the inner chamber quickly bowed.
“Your Highness, Her Highness had a bowl of ginseng congee,” one replied.
“After the meal, we accompanied Her Highness for a short walk in the garden,” the other added.
“Upon returning, she drank the medicinal tea prepared by Doctor Li,” the first maid continued, “and then rested for a short while.”
“We just finished reading a section of a book to Her Highness,” the second maid said.
Another maid entered from outside, holding a covered bowl.
“Your Highness, the pear juice for Her Highness is ready,” she announced.
Fang Bocong nodded and extended his hand.
The maid promptly curtsied and handed it to him.
The two maids helped Cheng Jiao-niang sit up on the daybed, arranging cushions behind her before bowing and withdrawing.
Fang Bocong sat cross-legged on the daybed, carefully and slowly feeding pear juice from the bowl to Cheng Jiao-niang.
“Is the chilled version better, or the warm one?” he murmured, gently supporting her chin with one hand to help her close her mouth. Even so, a trickle of juice escaped, and he promptly wiped it away with a handkerchief.
Feeding, assisting her swallow, and wiping – it all happened almost simultaneously, yet his movements were fluid and composed, without a trace of panic or clumsiness.
“I’ve tasted both, and I prefer the chilled one,” he continued. “But who knows about you?”
He looked at Cheng Jiao-niang as he spoke.
“You’ve always been such an unusual person.”
Lifting the bowl again, he slowly offered another sip, repeating the gentle motions of assisting and wiping.
“Doctor Li has already reached Xiangnan. I just don’t know if he’ll be able to find what we’re looking for,” he said, then sighed. “If I didn’t ask, you’d never tell me about these things. See how troublesome it’s become now? We don’t even know where to search or whom to ask.”
As he spoke, he lightly tapped Cheng Jiao-niang’s forehead with a fingertip.
“You truly kept your word – once you closed your eyes, you let go of everything, leaving it all behind. Aren’t you just taking advantage of a straightforward person like me?”
Though the room seemed lively with soft murmurs, it was always only one voice speaking. The maids outside the door couldn’t help but exchange glances.
“His Highness used to be like this when he was with Crown Prince Xuanwen,” one maid whispered.
Just like back then – talking to himself, with the other unable to hear, understand, or respond.
Crown Prince Xuanwen was gone, and now the Crown Princess had ended up in this state.
“His Highness is truly pitiful,” another maid murmured under her breath.
At first, no one had given it much thought, but once the word “pitiful” was spoken aloud, the maids present all paused. Listening again to the sound of speech from inside the room, their chests grew heavy with sorrow.
A person amusing themselves, speaking alone – it really was quite pitiful.
The voice inside gradually faded. Peering through the beaded curtain, the maids saw Fang Bocong lying on his side on the daybed, one arm resting over Cheng Jiao-niang as he drifted into sleep.
The maids quickly bowed their heads and tiptoed out, gently closing the door behind them. The courtyard returned to its tranquil silence.
…
One after another, lanterns were lit, illuminating the pavilions and towers in a dazzling glow. Among them, a patch of chrysanthemums shone particularly bright.
“Look over there,” Fang Bocong said, pointing into the distance. “Those are tributes -only three pots in total. One was kept for His Majesty, and the other two were sent here by the Empress.”
He turned his head to glance at Cheng Jiao-niang, who was seated on a sedan chair carried by four eunuchs beside him.
“The Empress said she’d like you to paint them after seeing them.”
He stepped forward, strolling along the path lined with chrysanthemums, while the eunuchs followed closely with the sedan chair.
“I’ve always known your calligraphy is excellent, but your painting is even better. That scoundrel Zhou Fu asked for nothing else from home but one of your scrolls.”
He glanced back with a smile.
“Well, I won’t give it to him. Let him stew.”
The girl on the sedan chair, wrapped in a crimson cloak, remained serene and still. The night breeze of late autumn swept by, causing her hood to flutter and partially cover her face.
Fang Bocong reached over, gently brushed it aside, and adjusted the hood for her.
“I’ve been busy these days and only found time today to accompany you for a stroll. I know you don’t mind, but I do.”
Standing by the roadside, watching the scene unfold, Eunuch Jing furrowed his brow slightly. A eunuch beside him sighed softly.
“My lord,” he whispered, “if this continues, it doesn’t seem right.”
Though the Crown Princess was clearly not in a normal state, His Highness treated her as though she were – sharing her bed at night, dining with her, and even bringing her along for morning exercises. While he practiced archery on the training grounds, her sedan chair would be placed nearby, not to mention how he spoke to her constantly, anytime and anywhere.
For those who attended them closely, it sometimes sent chills down their spines.
“At the very least, the Crown Prince’s residence should welcome new additions,” the eunuch continued. “His Highness has had no one serving him intimately all this time, and he is not young anymore…”
Eunuch Jing turned to look at him.
“Who told you to say this?” he asked.
The eunuch was taken aback.
“No one,” he replied. “It was my own thought. I’ve served His Highness for many years now – I have no ulterior motives.”
Eunuch Jing nodded.
“That’s good then. If you wish to die, do it alone. Don’t drag others down with you,” he said.
The eunuch was stunned, then immediately grew anxious, raising his hand to slap his own face hard.
Eunuch Jing paid him no further mind. Seeing Fang Bocong and Cheng Jiao-niang’s sedan chair turning back, he quickly strode forward to greet them.
The eunuch lowered his head and stepped aside, waiting until the procession headed toward the bedchambers before lifting his gaze again.
“But this is bound to happen sooner or later,” he murmured to himself. “His Majesty adopted an heir precisely because he struggled to have children of his own. Could it be that His Highness the Crown Prince gives no thought to the matter of an heir? If he doesn’t consider it now, what about when he ascends the throne in the future?”
…
The night at the end of September already carried a chill, with the north wind howling outside. Inside the Emperor’s bedchamber, lamplight flickered uneasily.
In the side chamber, the Empress had changed into sleeping attire and loosened her hair, reading by the light of a lamp. Hearing the sound of the wind, she looked up.
“Have extra quilts been added for His Majesty?” she asked. “The imperial doctor said His Majesty, having been ill for so long, must not be exposed to the cold.”
A eunuch outside the door responded promptly.
“They have already been added,” he replied.
The Empress lowered her head and continued reading.
“Your Highness,” came an urgent voice from outside the door.
The Empress looked up.
It was a eunuch who attended the Emperor. In the lamplight, his expression was one of panic.
The Empress’s heart sank, and she rose abruptly.
“What has happened to His Majesty?” she asked.
…
The soft knocking on the door was unusually sharp in the quiet night. Fang Bocong jolted awake on the daybed.
In the dim light of the night lamp inside, two more knocks sounded from outside.
“Your Highness, Your Highness,” came a low, urgent call.
“What is it?” Fang Bocong asked, instinctively reaching out to smooth the blankets disturbed by his sudden movement.
In the faint glow of the lamp, Cheng Jiao-niang remained peacefully asleep.
The door was pulled open, and Eunuch Jing hurried inside.
“Your Highness, the Empress asks if it would be convenient for you to enter the palace,” he whispered.
Fang Bocong’s expression shifted slightly.
It was not a summons to the palace but a question of convenience.
The palace was not a place one could enter casually – yet if they needed you to enter, they would not ask about your convenience.
Something inconvenient must have happened in the palace.
Emperor.
Fang Bocong understood instantly. He rose and stepped off the bed.
“Your Highness,” Eunuch Jing called out softly, a note of caution in his voice.
Though by convention, if something happened to the emperor, the Crown Prince should proceed without delay, an adopted heir was in a somewhat different position. Moreover, due to the incident involving Crown Prince Xuanwen, when Fang Bocong had led troops into the city and even blasted the palace gates, many whispers now circulated in private.
If something happened to the emperor while Fang Bocong was present, even more unsavory rumors could easily spread.
This was likely why the Empress had discreetly sent word to inquire.
If the Crown Prince were not present when the emperor passed, while rumors might still arise, they would at least be baseless and lack substance.
Fang Bocong’s footsteps did not falter.
“Prepare my attire and the carriage,” he said.
What should I, Fang Bocong, fear from the words of others?
