TGPSAC – Chapter 56

Emperor Shengyuan was not an easy man to get along with. He was sensitive and suspicious, always feeling that others were trying to deceive him.

Although everything had proceeded according to plan during the morning court session and Emperor Shengyuan had agreed, he had been backed into a corner, left with no choice but to consent. The lure of silver was one reason, and Gao Zheng’s “coercion” was another.

The first reason sat well with him, but the second did not.

When Chi Wan and Yu Jiuzhou arrived at the Imperial Study, they heard Emperor Shengyuan losing his temper. They exchanged a glance and entered together.

Before they could even offer their salutations, Emperor Shengyuan cut them off. “Enough. Tell me, what exactly is Gao Zheng trying to do?”

Chi Wan remained silent. On the way here, Yu Jiuzhou had told her not to speak unless absolutely necessary.

Naturally, it was Yu Jiuzhou who answered Emperor Shengyuan. “Your Majesty, Gao Zheng is securing a future for his family.”

“Hah!” He had already guessed as much. Emperor Shengyuan’s resentment toward Gao Zheng lessened slightly.

Even he, the emperor, was preparing a way out for himself. It was clear that once Gao Zheng stepped down from his position as Grand Secretary, the Gao family would fall. Implementing the new laws was a gamble, a risky bid for a sliver of hope for his family’s survival.

Emperor Shengyuan considered the officials who were always spouting righteousness and morality. He knew, of course, why they opposed the new laws. The reforms would strip the gentry and officials of their interests. In comparison, Gao Zheng, who had proposed the laws, seemed far more selfless.

So be it. Let Gao Zheng do as he pleased. In any case, he would only collect the silver and not concern himself with the details.

Emperor Shengyuan had summoned them for another matter. “There’s a snow disaster in Wucheng. Silver and supplies have been sent, but Prince Bao’an has returned to report that the snow has yet to melt. Disaster relief is difficult, and the roadsides are littered with frozen corpses.”

“He says relief efforts can only begin once the snow melts. But right now, supplies can’t get through, and the snow won’t melt. People are dying in Wucheng every day.”

He disliked Yanbei, but the people of Yanbei were still his subjects. If he were seen to be leaving them to die, who knew what the history books would write of him.

Yu Jiuzhou cupped her hands. “Your Majesty, your subject has learned of a method. Salt can melt snow.”

It was common knowledge that the snow had to be cleared before relief efforts could begin.

Emperor Shengyuan was speechless. Even he, the emperor, knew how expensive salt was. To melt the snow of an entire city—how much salt would that take? Coarse salt was fifty copper coins a catty, and fine salt was as high as a hundred. The refined salt used by nobles was even more expensive.

Even using only coarse salt, one tael of silver could only buy twenty catties.

“How much salt would be needed for an entire city?”

To Emperor Shengyuan’s surprise, Yu Jiuzhou had actually done the calculations. “Using coarse salt as an example, it would require tens of millions of catties. However, not every part of Wucheng needs it. We only need to use salt to melt the snow in the hardest-hit areas and clear a path for relief.”

“I have a handmaiden named Qiu Lai. She went to the East Sea to treat my maternal grandfather, to ease my mother’s worries about his health. On her way back, her caravan happened to pass through Wucheng. Worried about a potential plague, she stayed behind. She has sent me a message with a map of the disaster-stricken areas. Therefore, a million catties of coarse salt should be enough to open a path through some of the most severe areas.”

Once a path was cleared, relief soldiers could enter, and the people trapped inside could get out. At least there would be a way to survive.

A million catties of coarse salt would cost tens of thousands of taels of silver. The relief fund allocated to Wucheng was only one hundred thousand taels. If they also used traditional methods like high-temperature melting, the entire hundred thousand taels would be spent just on clearing the roads.

How could Emperor Shengyuan possibly agree? He would rather more people die than spend more silver.

Yu Jiuzhou knew the emperor all too well, so she immediately added, “The salt fields in my fief have discovered a highly efficient method of salt production. I can sell this salt to Wucheng at half price.”

Hearing of a highly efficient salt production method, Emperor Shengyuan’s eyes lit up. That would mean so much silver.

But he couldn’t bring himself to ask his daughter for the method. He simply looked at Yu Jiuzhou with an almost expectant expression, hoping she would offer it to him voluntarily.

Just then, Chi Wan suddenly spoke up. “Your Majesty, your subject has a petition. No matter what, I am still the Fuma. The Grand Princess punished me by making me kneel on a Go board. I implore Your Majesty to seek justice for me.”

Really? Was this the time to be talking about such things?

Emperor Shengyuan was exasperated, but he turned his gaze to her, his tone indignant. “You went to a brothel, with a young lady to keep you company. What’s wrong with the Grand Princess punishing you?”

Chi Wan remained stubborn. “Your Majesty, I can accept punishment, but what Her Highness did was an insult.”

Her unyielding demeanor made it difficult for Yu Jiuzhou to hide the smile in her eyes.

Emperor Shengyuan was infuriated by her. If she had just put a little more effort into her relationship with Zhou’er, he would be holding an imperial grandchild by now.

What was the point of quibbling over this punishment now?

Emperor Shengyuan had been hoping to get the salt production method from Yu Jiuzhou’s fief, but Chi Wan’s interruption had made him feel as if he had lost a great deal of silver.

To bring it up again now would make it seem like he was coveting his daughter’s property. Of course he was angry.

“Chi Wan, let this matter rest. We will not pursue your visit to the brothel, and you will not keep harping on about kneeling on the Go board.”

Emperor Shengyuan’s eyes fell on the Go board, which had an unfinished game on it. Kneeling on that must have been very painful.

Then, Emperor Shengyuan looked back at Yu Jiuzhou. “You and the Grand Secretariat can come to an agreement on this matter. The silver will come from the relief funds for Wucheng.”

He just wondered if there was any relief silver left in Wucheng.

So far, Wucheng hadn’t used much of the money. Few people came to collect the congee, and supplies couldn’t get in, which meant the roads had not been cleared at all.

The relief officials had clearly never intended to clear them.

The officials in Yanbei thought the same way as Emperor Shengyuan: if the roads were cleared, they would be forced to distribute the relief supplies. But if the victims couldn’t get out, the silver wouldn’t have to be spent.

Yu Jiuzhou remembered that in her past life, the relief fund for Wucheng had been one hundred thousand taels. The Yanbei government had contributed another hundred thousand, and the local gentry had donated two hundred thousand. Of the total four hundred thousand taels, only twenty thousand were actually used for disaster relief. The remaining three hundred and eighty thousand were embezzled by Prince Ying.

Afterward, a plague broke out in Wucheng. Of the city’s one hundred thousand inhabitants, less than one in ten survived.

Only after such a catastrophe did Emperor Shengyuan take it seriously. For now, not many had died, and no major incidents had occurred, so there were naturally fewer problems.

Chi Wan thought that since their business was concluded, they should be allowed to leave.

But to her surprise, Emperor Shengyuan looked them over and said, “The Spring Banquet is approaching. It should be hosted by the Empress, but your mother has not been well and does not wish for any commotion. Zhou’er, I will leave the Spring Banquet to you.”

In previous years, the Spring Banquet was attended by the emperor, his consorts, imperial heirs, princes, dukes, and high ministers, and was usually held in the palace.

The banquet featured poetry, music, archery, dance performances, and matchmaking for the unmarried children of noble families.

The guest list included scholars, dignitaries, and prominent families of the capital, all of whom considered an invitation to the Spring Banquet a great honor.

Recently, the Empress had been frequently excusing herself due to poor health, so the emperor wanted to hand the responsibility to Yu Jiuzhou.

During the banquet, attendees would compose poems, compete in horseback riding and cuju, and showcase their talents to determine winners.

The best poet would be named the Poetry Champion. The winner of the riding and cuju competitions would be named the General of Cavalry and Cuju. The Kun Ze who won the talent competition would be crowned the Flower of the Brocade.

The emperor and empress would then bestow rewards. The poetry prize was rarely an official position; it was more likely to be a piece of the emperor’s own calligraphy. However, the winner of the riding and cuju competition could be appointed a captain and join the Praetorian Guard.

Some winners of the Flower of the Brocade would be betrothed on the spot, while others would become highly sought-after marriage prospects among the capital’s noble families.

Years ago, Empress Xu had defeated all the Qian Yuan gentlemen on the cuju field and was named the Crown Prince’s consort. After that, she never rode a horse or played cuju again.

Thinking of her mother’s recent state, Yu Jiuzhou felt a pang of worry. If she remembered correctly, her mother had advised the emperor that as a ruler, he should not dote on a single consort. The emperor, growing older, felt that the Empress was trying to control him and dictate his actions in the inner palace. He had lost his temper in Zhengyang Palace, and the two had argued.

Yu Jiuzhou knew her mother. Ever since she had been betrothed as the Crown Princess, her family had educated her on how to be a proper empress.

Empress Xu certainly loved her companion of many years, but she had always restrained herself, believing it was for the emperor’s own good. In doing so, however, the affection between them had withered.

During their recent argument, the emperor’s words had completely broken Empress Xu’s heart.

If Chi Wan were to describe it, it was a case of giving up after being thoroughly hurt. She still loved him, but she no longer wanted to. So she simply chose to avoid him, out of sight, out of mind.

Yu Jiuzhou naturally felt for her mother, so she did not refuse the task of hosting the Spring Banquet. “Your subject obeys.”

She knew that if she also refused, the responsibility would fall to the Noble Consort. Where would the Empress’s dignity be then? It was better for her, the Grand Princess, to host it. On the day of the banquet, the emperor could bring the Noble Consort, but the host of the event would never be the consort.

If the Empress wouldn’t do it, the Grand Princess would. As for the Noble Consort? She should not covet power that did not belong to her.

Nevertheless, Yu Jiuzhou’s dissatisfaction with Emperor Shengyuan deepened. He truly had no regard for their past affection.

Then again, when had this emperor ever cared for sentiment?

Hearing her agree, Emperor Shengyuan was somewhat disappointed. It seemed he wouldn’t have to visit the Noble Consort for the next few days, which would save him from her constant pestering to give her charge of the Spring Banquet.

For a grand event like the Spring Banquet, if the Empress didn’t host it, the Grand Princess would. If the Grand Princess didn’t, the Ministry of Rites would. The Ministry was easy to deal with, but to have a mere consort host it without first asking the Grand Princess would surely lead to impeachment by some officials.

The emperor doted on the Noble Consort, but not to the point of tarnishing his own reputation for her sake.

Emperor Shengyuan hid his regret. “Fuma, you should also spend some time with Zhou’er. You two must give Us an imperial grandchild as soon as possible.”

Nagging again, always nagging.

Chi Wan was speechless. Could she produce an imperial grandchild on her own?

Although she was very curious how two women could have a child, she was afraid that if she brought it up, Yu Jiuzhou would kill her.

However, she couldn’t figure out what Yu Jiuzhou meant by asking her to play “Phoenix Seeking a Mate.”

She knew how to play the piece and understood its meaning—it was a song of courtship, a love story.

Yu Jiuzhou wanted her to play “Phoenix Seeking a Mate” for her. Was she asking for a confession?

Somehow, that didn’t feel right. She didn’t sense any love in Yu Jiuzhou’s eyes, which was very strange.

On the way out of the palace, Chi Wan couldn’t help but look up and ask, “Your Highness, why do you want me to play ‘Phoenix Seeking a Mate’?”

She was now using “I” and “me,” having lost the habit of referring to herself as “your subject.”

Yu Jiuzhou looked down, her gaze landing on Chi Wan’s lips. Her eyes flickered, and her heart softened inexplicably. “You are unwilling?”

If she was unwilling, then so be it. The emperor was pressing too urgently for a grandchild, so she had thought of cultivating some affection with Chi Wan. At the very least, if neither of them was opposed to it, they could have a child together.

Yu Jiuzhou had considered who she would be willing to have a child with. After thinking it over, she found the idea of being with anyone else repulsive. She had delayed considering Chi Wan, but eventually, she understood why.

It was because the person she favored was Chi Wan. The thought of having a child with Chi Wan didn’t seem repulsive at all.

Besides, Chi Wan was so intelligent and capable. She was a future Grand Secretary in Yu Jiuzhou’s eyes, and she had single-handedly killed more than twenty assassins. She was truly skilled in both literary and martial arts.

Those who became Grand Secretaries were usually old men and women. According to the secret guards’ investigation, reaching a profound level of internal energy typically took until one was in their thirties or forties.

For Chi Wan to have the potential to become a Grand Secretary before the age of twenty, and to have achieved a level of skill that others only reached in their thirties or forties, she was truly a crane standing among chickens, no matter how one looked at it.

Yu Jiuzhou thought to herself: I have been exceptionally intelligent since childhood, but perhaps great wisdom comes at a cost, as my body has always been somewhat weak. If I had a child with Chi Wan, wouldn’t they be both intelligent and healthy?

She was then amused by her own thoughts. Nothing had even happened yet, and here she was, thinking about all these things.

It was precisely because Yu Jiuzhou felt she wasn’t opposed to having a child with Chi Wan that she had tested her, asking if she would be willing to play “Phoenix Seeking a Mate” for her.

Often, couples could get by just by treating each other with mutual respect.

Whether among those she knew or those she had heard of, there was rarely any true mutual affection. Marriages were arranged based on family status. After marrying, if the couple got along, they lived with mutual respect. If not, they lived separate lives.

As long as their family backgrounds were compatible and neither party was strongly opposed, the marriage was settled. The Qian Yuan would manage external affairs, and the Kun Ze would manage the household.

But she was no ordinary Kun Ze. The household affairs of the Grand Princess’s Residence were managed by female officials, while she, the Grand Princess, was involved in state affairs, governing the realm.

The two of them were destined not to be like an ordinary couple. To put it bluntly, she wanted an imperial grandchild, ultimately for the sake of her own ambitions, and she had chosen someone she could accept.

If the other parent of the imperial grandchild were not Chi Wan, Yu Jiuzhou felt it would be better not to have one at all.

Of course, if Chi Wan could not accept it, the matter would be dropped.

By asking her to play “Phoenix Seeking a Mate,” she had made her hint very clear. If Chi Wan was interested, she would play the piece.

Chi Wan had only one interpretation of Yu Jiuzhou’s hint: the Grand Princess wanted to put on a show of reconciliation. The emperor was anxious for a grandchild, and if they continued to be at odds, it would surely displease him. Therefore, they needed an opportunity to make up, at least to the point where they could have a child together. They had to placate the emperor first. In any case, the emperor would be dead next year, so they wouldn’t have to pretend for long.

Having figured this out, Chi Wan decided to create a surprise. She would play “Phoenix Seeking a Mate” for Yu Jiuzhou in front of everyone, and then they could start their performance of a loving couple.

She was truly brilliant. Most people wouldn’t have been able to understand Yu Jiuzhou’s meaning.

Why couldn’t she have just said it directly? She had to be so subtle.

After returning to the Grand Princess’s Residence, Chi Wan immediately ran to the library, leaving Yu Jiuzhou stunned.

Was this person avoiding her?

It seemed Chi Wan had rejected her. Fine. She was not in the habit of forcing people.

Chi Wan, who had gone to the library, was not there to read, but to find sheet music.

She finally found a collection of Great Zhou zither scores. Of course, she had named it herself; the cover was blank, but it contained many scores, so she called it the “Collected Zither Scores of Great Zhou.”

A famous piece like “Phoenix Seeking a Mate” was naturally included.

Chi Wan tucked the score into her robes and went to Yongning Courtyard.

However, Yu Jiuzhou did not look happy. Her face was grim, and she exuded a cold aura. Anyone who didn’t know better would think she had just been heartbroken.

So, she peeked her head around the door. “Your Highness, what’s for dinner?”

She needed a favor from Yu Jiuzhou, so she had to be on her best behavior. First, ask, “Have you eaten?” Then, slowly lead into the topic and bring it up as if by chance. Everything would be so natural.

Yu Jiuzhou gave her a cold look. “I don’t know.”

How would she know what the kitchen was making? It would be nothing more than her usual favorites.

Chi Wan smiled awkwardly. “Then may I stay in Yongning Courtyard for dinner?”

“Is the Grand Princess’s Residence starving you?”

Chi Wan’s act of running away had thoroughly angered Yu Jiuzhou. She did not doubt her own charm; the mirror made it clear that she was beautiful, and she knew it.

Given her status, appearance, and character, even if Chi Wan were to reject her, she shouldn’t have run away as if fleeing, right?

It made her seem terrifying. All she had done was hint that Chi Wan should pursue her, and now she was being avoided.

Chi Wan could hear the anger in Yu Jiuzhou’s voice. She had only been a bit more frequent in scrounging for meals lately. Why was she so angry?

“Your Highness, did I offend you?” Since she couldn’t figure it out, she might as well ask.

She had just gone to find the sheet music to practice for their act. Why was she being so fierce?

Yu Jiuzhou’s heart clenched. She was clearly upset, yet Chi Wan had no idea why. She just kept staring at her with those innocent, warm, and moist eyes, as if she were the one being fierce.

Was she being fierce? Her tone was just flat. Well, maybe it was a little bit fierce.

Yu Jiuzhou looked at her innocent expression and turned her face away. “Stay if you wish.”

You’re usually not this polite before scrounging for a meal.

Hearing this, Chi Wan knew the Grand Princess was being proud again. She thought carefully.

Before leaving the palace, their interaction had been quite good. After returning to the residence, they hadn’t said much before she had excused herself and left.

Just as she was about to ask what was wrong, Chun Gui walked in. “Your Highness, Fuma, dinner is ready. Shall I have it served?”

Yu Jiuzhou wasn’t hungry. She had a small appetite to begin with, and it hadn’t been long since they had eaten at the palace. How could she be hungry?

But she noticed Chi Wan’s eyes light up, looking like she needed to be fed.

“Serve it.”

Yu Jiuzhou’s tone was cold. Chun Gui sensed that something was off between them and quickly retreated, bumping right into Xia Qu.

Xia Qu pulled her aside. “Chun Gui, have you noticed something’s wrong?”

“I have.”

“Then do you know what happened?”

Chun Gui shook her head. She really didn’t know, and felt like she had missed a lot.

Evidently, Xia Qu knew the whole story, with some of her own speculation added in. Her hearing was excellent, thanks to her martial arts training.

“Her Highness asked the Fuma to play the zither for her, but the Fuma didn’t, so Her Highness is angry.”

Chun Gui was confused. “?” Her Highness was not so petty as to get angry over a single song. The Princess’s Residence had no shortage of musicians, all of them masters of their craft, far superior to ordinary players. Why would Her Highness be angry just because she couldn’t hear the Fuma play?

Could it be because the Fuma had gone to listen to that young lady Qianqian play? No, that wasn’t like Her Highness either.

Chun Gui asked doubtfully, “Tell me Her Highness’s exact words.”

“Her Highness asked the Fuma if she would be willing to play a rendition of ‘Phoenix Seeking a Mate’ for her.”

Chun Gui’s heart skipped a beat. She understood immediately. Her Highness was hinting… no, she was outright telling the Fuma to confess her feelings.

It seemed the Fuma hadn’t taken it to heart and hadn’t given Her Highness an answer, which was why she was angry.

What surprised Chun Gui the most was that Her Highness was still willing to eat with the Fuma.

Given Her Highness’s personality, the fact that she was even acknowledging the Fuma was probably only for the sake of official business.

Chun Gui looked at Chi Wan, who had seated herself at the dining table, and a few dark lines appeared on her forehead.

After dinner was served, the Fuma ate and drank as if nothing was wrong. Chun Gui was speechless. Couldn’t this person see that Her Highness couldn’t eat a single bite?

Chun Gui thought, maybe I should give the Fuma a hint?

But matters of the heart were tricky. It probably wasn’t a good idea for an outsider to interfere. The Fuma knew how to play the zither, so she must know the meaning of “Phoenix Seeking a Mate.” By saying nothing, she was pretending not to know.

If she were to wake a person who was only feigning sleep, and the Fuma still did nothing, where would that leave Her Highness’s dignity?

Chun Gui took a step forward and deliberately prompted, “Are the dishes not to Your Highness’s liking? What would Your Highness like to eat? I can have the kitchen prepare something else.”

Yu Jiuzhou shook her head. “I am not hungry.”

Chi Wan felt that Chun Gui was hinting at something, but she couldn’t figure out what. She just wondered why Yu Jiuzhou had no appetite.

“Is Your Highness not feeling well? Let your subject take a look.”

Yu Jiuzhou was silent. “…” Was medicine the answer to everything?

Though she thought this, she had already extended her hand.

The moment she spoke, Chi Wan had put down her chopsticks. Her hand habitually rested on Yu Jiuzhou’s wrist. After the last internal energy treatment, Yu Jiuzhou’s health had improved considerably.

A few more treatments, and her constitutional weakness should be mostly gone.

“Your Highness’s body is fine. It is likely due to mental fatigue. The matter of the new laws has had a good start. Your Highness should not overthink things tonight and should rest well.”

After a moment, Chi Wan added, “If Your Highness truly cannot sleep, or sleeps restlessly, I can write a prescription for you. A bowl of it at night, with licorice added, won’t be bitter.”

She had even thoughtfully considered that the medicine would be too bitter and suggested a way to improve the taste.

Chun Gui rolled her eyes internally. You’ve already rejected Her Highness’s overture, so why are you being so gentle? If you don’t like her, then stop flirting.

Chi Wan felt a glare on her from time to time. She looked up and caught Chun Gui rolling her eyes.

What was wrong?

Yu Jiuzhou withdrew her hand. She also sensed Chun Gui’s displeasure with Chi Wan. Chun Gui was intelligent; she must have guessed why she was suddenly so cold.

The thought that her desire to have a grandchild with Chi Wan might have been discovered made her blush. Such things were indeed difficult to speak of.

“Chun Gui, I would like some of your fermented rice wine.”

Chun Gui was puzzled, but she bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

After Chun Gui left, Chi Wan suddenly leaned in and whispered, “Your Highness, does Chun Gui have a problem with me for some reason?”

You rejected her master, of course she has a problem with you, Yu Jiuzhou thought, but she revealed nothing. “No.”

Chi Wan nodded doubtfully. Then, she took the sheet music from her robes and presented it to Yu Jiuzhou. “Your Highness, is this the piece you wanted to hear?”

She pointed to “Phoenix Seeking a Mate” to show Yu Jiuzhou, just in case there were different versions.

Only then did it dawn on Yu Jiuzhou. So she had gone to the library to find the sheet music, not to reject her.

At this moment, with Chi Wan so close, and the realization that she hadn’t been rejected, Yu Jiuzhou’s face began to burn.

“Yes,” Yu Jiuzhou said softly.

Chi Wan smiled and nodded. “That’s good. Then Your Highness will have to wait for me to practice it more. I’ll play it for you once I’m familiar with it.”

Yu Jiuzhou was stunned for a long moment. Her heart felt soft and warm. She clenched her fists, trying to control the corners of her mouth. “Alright.”

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Footnotes:

1. Cuju (蹴鞠): An ancient Chinese ball game that is considered one of the earliest forms of football (soccer). Played with a leather ball filled with feathers or hair, the objective was to kick the ball through an opening into a net without using hands. It was used for military training and entertainment during the Han Dynasty and remained popular for centuries.
2. Touhu (投壶): A traditional Chinese game of skill and etiquette where players throw arrows or darts into a narrow-necked porcelain vase from a distance. Originating from Zhou Dynasty aristocratic banquets, it evolved from archery practice and became a popular drinking game among scholars and nobles, testing precision and composure.

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