Far away in Chang’an, an autumn wind stripped the leaves from the phoenix trees. Along the palace roads, servants swept fallen leaves into piles.
Shen Yujiao entered the palace to pay respects to the Empress Dowager. Empress Dowager Yang invited her to stay for lunch.
After the meal, she dismissed the attendants, and the two women sat across from each other playing chess.
They appeared harmonious and pleasant, yet there was an unspoken awkwardness between them.
Setting aside everything else, they genuinely admired and liked each other’s temperaments, yet between them stood Shouan.
Empress Dowager Yang felt guilty toward Shen Yujiao, but could not bear to part with her daughter.
Shen Yujiao knew of that guilt and also knew that Pei Xia, insisting on seeking justice for her, had inevitably stirred resentment in both the Empress Dowager and the Emperor’s hearts.
Human emotions are tangled, love and hate intertwined; not everything can be clearly divided into right or wrong.
But regarding the Yanbei matter, setting aside personal grievances, the two women, different in age and station, shared the same view:
Yanbei’s military funds must never be withheld.
“…Matters of state are not for a woman like me to speak on. But lately His Majesty seems to have misunderstood my husband and refuses to heed his counsel. My husband serves the throne and the country wholeheartedly yet ever since this issue arose, he’s been anxious, unable to sleep. As his wife, seeing him so tormented burns my heart as if on fire. So I’ve gathered my courage to say this, and I beg Your Majesty’s pardon if I’ve overstepped.”
Though confined to the inner palace, Empress Dowager Yang still heard much about the affairs of the outer court.
“Ai Jia knows that you and your husband are both loyal to the state,” she said. “As for the Yanbei matter, His Majesty truly handled it poorly. Even if you hadn’t come today, Ai Jia had already planned to speak with him about it.”
She sighed. “The rebellion in Ningzhou is yet unsettled, and now Anxi suffers that great disaster, it truly is a troubled autumn.”
Shen Yujiao replied, “Our realm is vast and rich. Disasters have occurred in the past, yet each time they were properly soothed. But at this critical moment, General Huo has met with misfortune. The court’s senior generals have dwindled, and the young ones are still unseasoned. Who knows when another like General Huo will emerge to guard the southwest?”
The Empress Dowager, too, knew how rare true talent was, and she sighed. “The young shizi of the Huo family is only fourteen. We’ll have to wait some years yet.”
Shen Yujiao thought of that little shizi, a boy still tender and unformed. It would take at least five or six years of hard training for him to become a competent commander. But would the over-sixty-year-old General Huo even last another five or six years?
Worried for the country’s future, the two women played their chess distractedly.
After Shen Yujiao left the palace, the Empress Dowager summoned Emperor Chunqing to Cining Palace and brought up the Yanbei issue.
“You must heed Pei Shouzhen on this,” she said. “The Yanbei army guards the nation’s border. This is no small matter, there must not be the slightest negligence.”
Her expression turned grave. “And as for Yan Wang’s temperament, you may not understand. When your late father sent him north all those years ago, he already bore resentment. Were it not out of regard for the forefathers’ legacy… He was born of imperial blood; do you think a dragon’s son and phoenix’s grandson would willingly give up the silks and comforts of Chang’an to live over twenty years in the bitter cold of the north? Your Majesty, don’t fixate only on the present and chill the hearts of your Uncle Yan and the thousands of soldiers guarding the frontier.”
Yan Wang was a tiger, having such a tiger watching the northern borders was Great Liang’s good fortune.
But a tiger unfed, starved long enough, could still turn and devour its keeper.
Since the Emperor’s accession, the Empress Dowager had always urged him to treat the Crown Prince kindly, not only out of remembrance for Fang Shujing, but also because she knew: if the Crown Prince was treated well, Yan Wang would remain in Yanbei and keep the realm safe for her son.
Yet these words sounded most unpleasant to Emperor Chunqing.
“I must be the most stifled emperor alive,” he said sourly. “On one side I must listen to Pei Shouzhen, and on the other, if I so much as delay the army funds a few days, I’m scolded and lectured by all of you.”
When a eunuch had reported that Lady Shen entered the Cining Palace early that morning, he’d already guessed what she and the Empress Dowager must have discussed.
“A mere woman from the inner residence dares to talk politics, truly lawless. I wonder how Pei Shouzhen manages his wife at home,” he said darkly.
The Empress Dowager frowned. “By that logic, this woman of the inner palace who speaks of state affairs, meaning me, should also be punished and ‘taught a lesson,’ yes?”
The Emperor choked on his words. Seeing the displeasure on her face, he hastened to apologize: “Your son dares not.”
“Some things I shouldn’t say,” she continued, “but these past six months your behavior has truly been unbecoming.”
She fixed him with a steady gaze. “I know because of the Shouan matter you’ve grown resentful toward Pei Shouzhen. But when it comes to matters of great import, how can you act out of personal likes and dislikes?”
The Emperor protested, aggrieved. “Your son hasn’t! It’s just, the state treasury is empty. If there were money, would I ever short the military’s pay?”
The Empress Dowager said, “Had you listened to Pei Shouzhen and sent Fu Duhai to Ningzhou instead of that Jiang Junlin who only fights on paper, Ningzhou might already be pacified. How could it have dragged on like this—silver and soldiers poured in endlessly, gone like buns thrown to a dog! In the end it was Huo Xiao, dragging his sick body onto the battlefield, who steadied the army and quelled the chaos.”
Even recalling it made her heart ache.
Emperor Chunqing’s face was sullen. “Jiang Junlin has his own methods of command. It’s just that the fighting in Ningzhou was too complicated, his tactics failed…”
“Enough,” said the Empress Dowager coldly. “At this point you’re still defending him? He lost the battle, let him accept his punishment!”
“Junlin is loyal too,” the Emperor said softly. “He led the vanguard himself and even lost an arm…”
Jiang Junlin had been his companion since before he ascended the throne, his good playmate and brother, known to him even earlier than Pei Xia.
Nor was Jiang Junlin entirely incompetent; he did possess some genuine skill in leading troops.
But war is unpredictable, until blades clash on the field, no one can guarantee victory.
When generals were being chosen, Jiang Junlin had volunteered for the campaign, and the Emperor had been deeply moved. He truly fought bravely, but one wrong move and he lost an arm and the battle.
Seeing her son’s troubled expression, the Empress Dowager knew his old failing of “soft-hearted benevolence” had returned.
Hard where he should be tender, tender where he should be hard, she was utterly weary.
“Ningzhou can wait,” she said. “But the Yanbei army’s pay must not be delayed any longer.”
She glanced toward the window, where autumn blossoms scattered in the wind. Between her gentle brows now rested deep worry. “The weather is turning cold. Soon snow will fall in the north.”
The Emperor muttered a reluctant assent, though inwardly he still thought the Empress Dowager and Pei Shouzhen were fretting over nothing. So the funds would be sent a few days late, was that really as disastrous as they claimed?
Besides, Yan Wang had ruled his northern lands for decades, and the yearly military funds sent there were already immense. Could anyone prove they all went into warfare? Who knew how much ended up in his own pockets?
He, the emperor, toiled diligently day and night, only to be led around by Pei Shouzhen in court, then scolded by his own mother afterward. All this uproar just because he delayed payment to a vassal? Each of them urging him, blaming him, no wonder he felt so suffocated.
Emperor Chunqing left the Cining Palace in a thoroughly foul mood.
A mother knows her child best. Seeing the emperor’s expression, Empress Dowager Yang knew that his wings had grown strong, he no longer wanted to listen. Yet there was nothing she could do.
From the moment he ascended the Dragon Throne, he was no longer her son. He would, like nearly all emperors, crave absolute power, absolute obedience, and a majesty above all others. Her son had ultimately walked the path of the ruthless emperor.
—
Despite his reluctance, Emperor Chunqing finally accepted Pei Xia’s advice: he raised taxes in Jiangnan by thirty percent, halted several public works projects, and allocated thirty percent of the Anxi disaster relief funds. Scraping and borrowing from all directions, he finally managed to gather enough to send the military funds to Yanbei.
But before the Ministry of War could procure the armor, bows, arrows, and rations, messengers arrived from Yanbei.
It was evening. The emperor had just finished reviewing the day’s memorials and was about to retire to the palace for a brief respite.
The head eunuch, Rong Qing, rushed in in a panic: “Your Majesty! Bad news! A large force has arrived outside the Mingde Gate. They claim to be emissaries from Yan Wang, demanding the city gates be opened so they may enter and rest!”
The emperor’s face immediately darkened. “Emissaries from Yan Wang? What are they here for? Who exactly came, and how many troops did they bring? No regional prince may enter the capital without an imperial edict, and yet Yan Wang sends troops without so much as a word, are they rebelling?!”
Rong Qing had no clear information, so Emperor Chunqing summoned the commanders of the Imperial Guard and the Jinwu Army.
They soon learned that the emissary outside Mingde Gate was none other than Yanbei’s deputy general, Xie Guian, who had brought five thousand elite troops. Officially, he claimed to come to pay respects to the emperor; in reality, he had come to “collect a debt.”
Once the truth was clear, the emperor’s already irritated mood ignited fully.
“I am the sovereign; they are subjects! Only I may offer them reason, how dare they come demanding it themselves? Arrogant, utterly, extremely arrogant!”
He slammed a fine Ruyao teacup to the floor. Leaning on the table, he ground his teeth: “Such defiance and insubordination, does Yan Wang even acknowledge me as his emperor?”
If Yan Wang were present, he would answer: No.
He never acknowledged even the late Emperor Zhaoning, let alone an unremarkable nephew.
Years ago, when Chunqing ascended the throne, Yan Wang had considered marching on Chang’an to install the Crown Prince. But he had heard of Sima Jin’s wisdom and seen the unmatched intelligence of Pei Shouzhen assisting him. The two ruled the court with impeccable order, leaving no fault to be found.
For the sake of the people’s peace, Yan Wang abandoned the idea.
After all, just because the Crown Prince assumed the throne doesn’t mean he could be a competent emperor. If the son of Consort Xian ascended, so be it. If Jingniang were still alive, she would never allow him to rebel for the sake of the Crown Prince, causing unnecessary hardship and loss for the people.
During Emperor Zhaoning’s time, Chang’an and Yanbei coexisted peacefully, neither interfering with the other. All had been well.
But just three years into his reign, this brazen young emperor dared to bully him, withholding the military funds for Yanbei? Truly, the boy had grown too complacent, mistaking minor and major kings alike.
Yan Wang decided it was time to teach his nephew a lesson, to show him the peril of provoking a tiger.
He sent Xie Guian and five thousand elite troops directly to Chang’an to “collect the debt,” demanding an additional twenty percent as “interest.”
Without him and his countless soldiers braving snow and wind in Yanbei, risking life and shedding blood, would the emperor in Chang’an enjoy silk and feasts with ease?
Adding twenty percent more—was that too much?
Yan Wang thought not.
Emperor Chunqing, however, saw it as an outrageous demand, utterly disrespectful to the throne and the height of impudence.
That night, he ordered the city gates closed, forbidding the Yanbei troops from entering. Anyone who disobeyed would be charged with treason and executed without mercy.
It was early winter, the tenth month. Though Chang’an was not as bitterly cold as Yanbei, the night wind carried a chill.
Seeing the city gates closed and the guards taking defensive positions with bows and shields, Yanbei’s cavalry general, Hu Hongyu, gripped his sword: “Ho! Brothers, we’ve come a thousand miles, and he doesn’t even treat us to food or drink, he just shuts the gates in our faces? Nephew Xie, I told you five thousand troops weren’t enough! If we had thirty thousand, we could’ve flattened this wretched gate!”
Mounted on his deep-red steed, Xie Guian suppressed a smile, his voice still lazy: “Foster father said—first courtesy, then force. After all, he’s still an uncle. We shouldn’t break down a nephew’s gate immediately.”
“But being polite to this young emperor, he doesn’t even acknowledge our Wangye!” General Hu scowled. “In this freezing weather, he leaves our five thousand brothers outside to starve and shiver? When has the Yanbei army ever suffered such indignity?”
He turned to the elite soldiers behind him. “You’ve all traveled dusty roads for days, hoping for a proper meal in Chang’an, and what do we get? Stopped at the gate. Humiliating, truly humiliating!”
The general could not bear the insult, and Xie Wuling also thought the emperor’s head must have been kicked by a donkey.
They had only brought five thousand troops as a gesture of respect, hoping for a smooth negotiation.
Now they were locked out.
What sort of hospitality was this?
“Let’s note this debt for now,” Xie Guian said, glancing at the dark sky. “Give him a few more hours to calm down. If by noon tomorrow no one comes to receive us, we’ll return home.”
“Next time we come, it won’t be just five thousand troops, and we’ll want thirty percent interest.”
General Hu, though irritated, could only hold back for now.
After all, the person inside was the emperor.
Xie Wuling swung down from his horse, leading the five thousand elite soldiers to set up camp at the city gate, lighting fires and cooking meals.
The bonfire quickly blazed up, illuminating the area in front of the gate.
Xie Wuling and General Hu sat by the fire, chewing on jerky, their eyes fixed on the massive, imposing city gate and the soldiers pacing the battlements, faces unsettled.
“Nephew, you think we’ll actually collect the money?”
Hu Hongyu had fought alongside Yan Wang for most of his life, a skilled hand on the battlefield, but collecting debts was a first. And the debtor was the emperor, which made his heart uneasy, uncertain.
Compared to his tension, Xie Wuling was calm. He blew on the hot soup in his bowl. “You can’t have it both ways. You want the horse to run, but not eat grass? Such logic doesn’t exist. And we’re guarding the land for the country. If the emperor is smart, he’ll have the silver ready for us to take back.”
General Hu agreed, but added, “Then why did he stop us at the gate?”
“Maybe he was scared,” Xie Wuling said.
“Ah?”
Xie Wuling shrugged. “Seeing us arrive with troops probably frightened him.”
“But we only brought five thousand! What’s there to be afraid of?”
“I’m not the emperor,” Xie Wuling said, “how should I know what’s on his mind? Maybe he’s timid, thinks five thousand troops could overthrow his throne. Or maybe he just wants to make a show, to warn us a little.”
General Hu felt the latter was more likely and immediately flared up. “He cut our military funds first, and now he’s trying to put on airs? Does he think that without us guarding the north, he could enjoy wealth and peace in the palace? Utterly outrageous! Does he think the Yanbei army eats grass?”
“Ah, Uncle Hu, calm down. Your voice nearly shattered my ears.”
Xie Wuling rubbed his ringing ears and drained the half-bowl of meat soup. “Foster father also said negotiate if possible, fight if not. Don’t rush, and tell the brothers not to rush either. Let’s wait until tomorrow morning.”
Before departing, Yan Wang had given countless reminders: value peace, take what can be taken. Not for an old promise with the previous emperor, but for the people, for the peace of the realm. And since he had no heir, even sitting on that throne, it wouldn’t be for many years, no need to stir trouble.
If they collected the funds and interest, he could continue enjoying his later years in Yanbei, leaving a reputation as a loyal minister.
Of course, this all relied on his emperor-nephew being sensible. If not, if he insisted on causing trouble, Yan Wang wouldn’t hesitate to remove him and install someone obedient.
The purpose of sending Xie Wuling to Chang’an was threefold: collect the debt, gauge the nephew’s attitude toward the Yanbei army, check on the deposed Crown Prince, and finally, fulfill Xie Wuling’s personal wish to see his beloved.
Xie Wuling understood this clearly, state matters came first, personal matters second. Yet thinking of being outside the city gate while Jiaojiao was inside made his heart itch as if ants were crawling all over it. He longed to fly over the wall and appear before her, to show her his current stature—he had made a comeback, achieved success!
“Nephew, why are you smiling like an idiot?”
General Hu eyed the empty bowl in Xie Wuling’s hands. “Was the soup that good?”
Xie Wuling snapped out of his thoughts, lightly clearing his throat. “No… I was thinking about tomorrow.”
“Ah?”
“When we enter the city tomorrow, I’ll host. Uncle Hu, how about a proper meal?”
“That’d be great.”
General Hu readily agreed, then hesitated. “But what if the emperor still won’t let us in?”
Xie Wuling said, “They’ll probably let us in.”
General Hu asked, “How are you so sure?”
“This great imperial court, surely not everyone in it is a fool. There have to be at least one or two smart ones, don’t you think?”
Xie Wuling smiled and tilted his head back, gazing at the dark night sky where a single star flickered. His clear black eyes narrowed slightly.
Don’t you think so, Pei Shouzhen?
