For more than three months after the Double Ninth Festival, Xie Jing indeed did not see Lu Lingcong again. Not only did they not meet privately, but they also did not run into each other in public, unsure if this was a coincidence or if it was intentional avoidance.
The formalities of the betrothal gift had long been completed. Marrying into the imperial family meant that “bride-price” was an inappropriate term, so everything was vaguely referred to as “imperial bestowals.” There were four sets of written gift lists alone, coming from the Emperor, the Empress, Noble Consort Wu, and Prince Zhao’s Mansion. Prince Zhao’s maternal uncle, Wu Qin, had also secretly added a substantial amount. The carriages and dowry chests stretched out grandly, forming a continuous line from Zhuque Avenue into Wuyi Lane.
This truly gave the Xie family a grand display, showing the imperial family’s affection and high regard for the new consort. Many people joked that “to have a son, he should be like Xie Zhiwu,” who, by consenting to the marriage as a man, received a magnificent wedding and a generous bride-price sufficient for ten prodigal sons to squander for fifty years—what a profitable transaction.
The Xie family was a centuries-old prestigious clan. Although Xie Yi disliked extravagance and was incorruptible, it did not change the fact that the family was wealthy. However, when he looked at the “bestowals” that the steward had taken three full days to tally and register into the residence, the unease they stirred in him was no less than if someone were attempting to bribe him outright.
However, he certainly dared not call it ill-gotten wealth. He could only endure it in silence and thank the emperor for the grace.
Xie Jing did not lack wealth and hadn’t concerned himself with how many items were carried into the Xie’s Mansion. It was only one day after supper, when his sister-in-law quietly called him over, that he first saw what the gift list looked like.
“I found it quite unusual when I was tallying things today, so I thought I should bring it to discuss with you.” His sister-in-law, a native of the Yao clan of Wuxing, had managed the household for many years. She was close to Xie Jing, acting like a mother and elder sister to him.
Saying this, she pulled a scroll from her sleeve, handed it to Xie Jing to examine closely, then added, “This one is from the Prince’s Mansion. It looks truly extraordinary to me. We don’t fuss over these material possessions, but we can’t be ignorant of worldly matters either. Look carefully, is it excessive or too valuable?”
Xie Jing recognized at a glance that the gift list from Prince Zhao’s Mansion was in Lu Lingcong’s own handwriting. Although he had never seen Lu Lingcong’s script before, the writing matched the man. His script was not smooth and elegant like his Quxia style; instead, its framework was extremely vigorous and lean, with long horizontal strokes and expansive presses, soaring with momentum.
Furthermore, the varying pressure and speed of the brushstrokes clearly revealed the writer’s emotions at the time of writing; his thoughts were fully laid bare on the paper.
The Emperor, Empress, and Noble Consort Wu all bestowed gifts according to ritual, providing three nearly identical lists, only decreasing in specification and quantity. But Prince Zhao’s Mansion, which was actually receiving the consort, had produced a list that would give the Bureau of Ceremonial Supervision a headache.
The list naturally includeincludeed items in keeping with old customs—for instance, a pair of wild geese symbolizing steadfast fidelity, personally shot by Prince Zhao, a single arrow piercing the eyes of both birds without damaging the fur. Lu Lingcong’s writing showed a degree of pride, as if boasting of his archery skills. Another example was the four types of capital fruits symbolizing many sons and blessings. Lu Lingcong was clearly too embarrassed to mention this, only writing the first type, “longan,” and trailing off with two illegible “etcetera” characters.
But most of it was added by himself—one Jiaowei qin and one Qingnu se[mfn]Both qin and se are ancient Chinese stringed instruments; for better understanding, they’re zithers, but they differ in structure, playing style, and historical connotation.[/mfn], a hundred bolts of Yunshu silk, fifty jin each of Mingqian Longjing and Xinyang Maojian teas, various Huzhou brushes, Huizhou ink, Xuan paper, and Duan inkstones… and so on. The very last line read, “Respectfully enclosing the secret recipe for Meishan Snow Liquor, your humble son-in-law, Lu Lingcong, kowtows.”
No gold was sent. Regardless of whether it was genuine appreciation or a display of refinement, it was clear he had put some effort into it. Moreover, referring to himself as “son-in-law” to the Xie family showed an extremely low posture, subtly erasing the fact that Xie Jing was essentially marrying up.
Xie Jing found it a bit funny and shook his head: “He sent so much tea, but no one in this mansion is particularly fond of it. How can we possibly finish it?”
“Exactly! Who in our family can use all of this? And this signature… His Highness is perhaps too overly courteous.”
Xie Jing pondered for a moment, then said to Lady Yao, “Returning it would be even more improper. Keep the silks and brocades for everyone in the mansion to make clothes. Give the brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones to Jun’er. Save some of the tea for daily entertaining guests. As for the rest, wait until the tenant’s farmers come to the capital next spring, distribute it as rewards, and they can either keep it or sell it—it’s up to them. For the qin and se, and that recipe, I will take back to the Prince’s Mansion with me when the time comes.”
Lady Yao nodded: “That seems acceptable. His Highness is willing to put effort into this; it suggests he is still keen on this marriage. He won’t mistreat you in the future.”
Xie Jing made no comment, only saying, “Let’s hope so.”
Xie Jing did not need to be confined to the women’s quarters waiting for the auspicious day, so he continued with his tutoring duties. Lu Lingzhang gradually became more familiar with Xie Jing and sometimes even seized the opportunity to chat for a few moments. Having been locked within the palace walls since childhood, he yearned for the outside world. Knowing that Xie Jing grew up in his hometown of Chenliu, he naturally asked him many questions.
Xie Jing then selected some anecdotes, embellishing them as he told them. In truth, he himself had also spent most of his time pressed into reading indoors by his grandfather, and there was nothing legendary about his life, just the scenery and customs north of the river. Yet these completely unfamiliar accounts captivated Lu Lingzhang, who then said forlornly, “Imperial Brother also has many stories, all things he saw and heard during his travels. I wish I could see them with my own eyes someday.”
Xie Jing rarely heard Lu Lingzhang mention his older brother and was inevitably curious: “This minister hadn’t heard that Prince Zhao had such refined interests.”
Lu Lingzhang then explained, “Noble Consort Wu’s maternal family has many merchant caravans that travel everywhere. After Imperial Brother established his own mansion, he would occasionally go with them for a month or two and would bring back little toys for me.”
Regardless of the hidden complexities, Lu Lingcong must have treated his younger brother quite well. The child was innocent and showed only admiration and longing, but Xie Jing guessed this likely took place in the first few years after Lu Lingcong was promoted into a prince. As he grew up and became increasingly distinguished and prominent, drawing discussion from court and public alike, his maternal uncle’s family probably no longer dared to let him run off with the caravans.
Bianzhou was governed by Chenliu and served as a hub for trade routes. Xie Jing knew of three businesses belonging to the Wu family there. He just didn’t know if Lu Lingcong had gone with them.
Before Xie Jing could respond further, Lu Lingzhang suddenly fell silent and hesitant. He clearly remembered the incident from that day and was afraid of causing trouble for Xie Jing again.
Xie Jing smiled: “’Teachers impart the Way, teach knowledge, and resolve doubts.’ Resolving doubts is also within this minister’s duty. Your Highness need not worry too much.”
Lu Lingzhang only shook his head and was clearly unsatisfied, yet he did not ask any further questions.
In the blink of an eye, the year came to an end. On New Year’s Eve, the Emperor held a banquet for the officials outside Shenlong Hall, while the titled ladies entered the inner court to pay their respects to the masters of the various palaces. For a time, carriages came and went around Taichu Palace, and with many women gathered, softly laughing and whispering among themselves, it became a rare and lively scene.
Originally, only Madam Xie needed to enter the palace, but this year was different. With Xie Jing’s marriage to Prince Zhao approaching, the Xie family was already regarded as having one foot in the circle of imperial in-laws. Consequently, Lady Yao and Xie Jun also went in with him. He heard it was because Noble Consort Wu “wanted to meet them all.”
Xie Jing was not good at social niceties and simply stood beside his mother. Though he was quite conspicuous and drew many curious looks, he was already used to it.
However, one tall girl of noble birth, surrounded by maids and young servants, neither spoke nor exchanged greetings. Instead, she stood apart from the crowd and kept staring intently at Xie Jing.
Xie Jing felt unnerved by her gaze. He was certain he had never seen her beautiful face before and couldn’t figure out how he had offended her. Staring back would be too impolite, so he avoided her eyes, pretending not to notice. Once Lady Yao caught Xie Jun as he darted about looking at new things and brought him back, she stood still to catch her breath while Xie Jing quietly asked:
“Who is that young lady in the silvery-red jacket who keeps staring at me?”
Lady Yao squinted to look, careful not to be too obvious: “Huh? She hasn’t been married yet.”
Xie Jing: “……”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Lady Yao turned, looking surprised: “You really don’t recognize her?”
Xie Jing was both annoyed and amused: “How could I recognize her? If I recognized a sheltered young lady like her, would that be proper if word got out?”
Lady Yao’s expression was priceless. With one hand, she unconsciously rubbed Xie Jun’s cheek and said, “You can certainly not recognize others, but this one is different.”
Xie Jing raised an eyebrow, signaling her to continue.
Madam Yao became serious as she covered her mouth and whispered, “That is Grand Commandant Cui’s eldest daughter.”
Xie Jing was stunned for a long moment before opening his mouth to utter an “Ah.”
“Do you understand now?” Lady Yao laughed.
Even though Xie Jing hadn’t properly lived in the capital for a full year, he had still heard a little about Miss Cui’s story—after all, the person she was madly, painfully in love with was his own fiancé.
This was ultimately not an honorable matter, nor was it gossip to be laughed at. Thus, Xie Jing only knew the general outline: it was said that Miss Cui, while accompanying her father on an inspection tour of the Imperial Guards camp, had a glimpse of the fifteen-year-old Prince Zhao’s heroic bearing from afar on the training ground, and she had been deeply in love with him ever since, determined that he was the only man for her.
Grand Commandant Cui, who deeply cherished his daughter, had indirectly hinted at the matter to both the Emperor and Prince Zhao. Setting aside Prince Zhao’s feelings, which he couldn’t control anyway, the emperor, who could decide, simply played dumb. When pressed too hard, he would laugh it off, saying things like his son hadn’t come of age yet and wasn’t interested in marriage for the time being, and how could he possibly ruin a girl’s future since he wasn’t familiar with Miss Cui… and so on.
However, when he turned around and betrothed Xie Jing to Prince Zhao, this set of excuses suddenly became null and void. Miss Cui naturally dared not openly resent the emperor, so it was no wonder she vented her frustration on Xie Jing, glaring at him with a look as if facing a formidable enemy.
Xie Jing had never seriously considered this matter before: the “good marriage” he saw as rather insignificant was, for many others, a truly coveted, unobtainable good marriage. Miss Cui was probably not an isolated case; others simply lacked her kind of tenacious determination.
He couldn’t walk over to Miss Cui and say, “How about I give him to you?” Nor could he sigh with regret that she was so preoccupied with a man. This girl, about the same age as him, could not, unlike him, pursue an official career through examinations. Her ultimate hope in life had to depend on a husband and children. If she couldn’t marry the man of her dreams, the luckiest outcome she could hope for was to remain unmarried her whole life.
Xie Jing remained silent. He faintly heard Xie Jun protesting, “Mother, stop rubbing; it really hurts!” while Lady Yao chuckled. This time, he didn’t flinch. He quietly looked back, unsure of the appropriate attitude to take toward Miss Cui, so he could only do his best to offer a gentle, genuinely sincere smile.
Logic told him that this girl came from the Cui clan of Qinghe, and her father, Grand Commandant Cui, held significant military power. If the Emperor were to actually marry her to Lu Lingcong, he would be uneasy about both parties.
But a quiet voice in his heart whispered that he himself came from a similar prestigious family. If—if she were his own sister, the daughter of the upright and outspoken Remonstrator Xie Yi, who dared to impeach anyone in the court, then she might truly have gotten her wish.
Xie Jing had occasionally thought that he was unlucky to have been chosen by the emperor as a daughter-in-law-by-marriage. Regardless of whether he resented it, it was certainly depressing. It was only at this moment that he realized, even though it wasn’t voluntary, he had secretly stolen the good fortune of many people.
He wondered if one day, Heaven would come back to reclaim it from him.
During the evening banquet, officials were arranged in rows with their family members seated accordingly. Chief Eunuch Zhong Zhao announced that the emperor would arrive shortly and that everyone could pour their own drinks. Yet, no one dared to actually start eating. For nearly half an hour, people talked in hushed tones in small groups. Even after the Empress and Lu Lingzhang were seated, the emperor arrived late.
His expression seemed slightly fatigued, and he appeared to be in low spirits, though he didn’t overly show it. After exchanging a few pleasantries, all the officials smiled along. Xie Jing subconsciously looked around but did not see Lu Lingcong’s shadow.
Logically, this made no sense; there was no protocol requiring the ruler and father to be present before the subject and son had arrived. Given Lu Lingcong’s cautious nature, he shouldn’t make such a blunder.
In that case, was he not in the capital? But it was New Year’s Eve, and his wedding was imminent. Where could he possibly go? Besides, a seat was clearly left empty for him below the Emperor and Empress, next to Lu Lingzhang.
Xie Jing, deep in thought for a long while, finally pinched his forearm and resolved to mind his own business. He was yawning incessantly, silently praying that the emperor would take pity and let everyone go home early to observe the New Year, as he was thinking about the sweet and sour fish made by Chef Zhao at home.
Xie Yi had clearly noticed the unusual atmosphere. He was taciturn and rarely exchanged toasts with his colleagues. At the Xie family’s table, only the occasional laughter of Lady Yao teasing Xie Jun could be heard, interspersed with Madam Xie’s occasional reminder to “eat while it’s hot.”
Just as Xie Jing was about to call over an inner attendant who looked familiar and seemed to frequent Linhai Hall, intending to bribe him for information, he suddenly heard a dull sound from the distant palace gate. It was being pushed open slowly and clumsily from the outside inward.
For safety reasons, the palace gates had been locked after the officials entered the afternoon. At this moment, it was clear who could demand the gates be opened without an imperial edict and ride in on horseback.
As expected, a man and a horse immediately swept in like the wind, not dismounting even after passing the Gongche gate but stopping directly a few steps away from the hall.
Lu Lingcong swung down from the white horse, Yi Yun. His clothes were somewhat disheveled. He knelt and spoke clearly: “Erchen[mfn]I, your son, used by the prince.[/mfn] has arrived late.”
Xie Jing was not far from him. With just a glance, he could see the deep gloom in Lu Lingcong’s eyes. He thought, ‘So that’s it. He was wronged by the emperor and ran out of the palace to vent his frustration.’ He just wondered what the matter was that caused even the usually reserved Prince Zhao to reveal rebellious thoughts.
He then heard the emperor speak from the Dragon Throne. He didn’t tell him to rise but instead asked, “You’ve been out wandering for half a day. Have you thought clearly?”
Lu Lingcong replied without hesitation, “No matter how many times Emperor Father asks, Erchen’s answer remains the same.”
The emperor stared at him for a moment, then said casually, “Then you haven’t thought clearly yet. Stay right there and think some more.”
The sound of glasses clinking at the banquet immediately stopped. Everyone could feel the tension between father and son, and no one dared to break the silence.
The emperor, however, acted as if nothing had happened. He genuinely ignored Lu Lingcong, merely raising his hand to signal the beginning of the music and dance. A court attendant then came forward to lead Yi Yun away. The white horse initially stood still, but after its master gave a whistle, it reluctantly stepped away.
Lu Lingcong stayed kneeling alone at the foot of the steps, while behind him, musicians and dancers performed lightly like a cluster of flowers. On both sides, officials, each with their own thoughts, watched in silence.
After a long pause, the emperor spoke first again, casually asking the relevant officials about a moderately important state matter. The officials hurriedly stood up, exaggeratedly offered a few auspicious remarks, and then acted as if they were wound up. They put on masks with uncanny consistency, beginning the distorted performance of hosts and guests enjoying themselves in harmony.
No one knew how much time had passed. The night grew deeper, the cold sharper, the cups empty, and the wine cold. The emperor set down his goblet, raised his hand again, and said, “The banquet is over. All you beloved ministers may leave at your convenience.” Consequently, the crowd, like a surging wave, stood up, bowed, and gradually dispersed.
As Xie Jing walked past Lu Lingcong, he glanced at him and smelled a faint scent of wine. Lu Lingcong, however, did not look up, nor did he look at him.
He followed his father, elder brother, and family toward the palace gate, hearing the increasingly distant exchange behind him:
“After being left out for this long, have you thought clearly now?”
“Erchen has always been very clear.”
“Whether you’re clear or not, Zhen doesn’t know, but it’s undeniable that you’ve always valued your mother and younger sister the most.”
“Who else can my birth mother and young sister rely on besides Erchen?”
“You won’t go to Luoyi because you don’t want to leave your mother and younger sister, but Zifeng, have you considered what a crime it is for ‘disobeying an imperial decree’ to implicate the two of them?”
There was a moment of silence behind them. Xie Yi’s steps also paused, clearly paying attention as well. Xie Jing was startled by the word “Luoyi.” His thoughts raced, and he vaguely began to guess.
Lu Lingcong remained silent for a long while before finally saying, “Mother is Emperor Father’s consort, and Meimei[mfn]Younger sister.[/mfn] is Emperor Father’s own daughter. Emperor Father’s regard for them is certainly no less than your regard for Erchen.”
The emperor’s tone was displeased: “Didn’t you just say there was ‘no one they can rely on besides you’?”
Lu Lingcong thought for a moment, hesitated, and finally said, “You are the sovereign father of the former court, the inner palace, and the nine prefectures. Everyone depends on you, yet not everyone can truly rely on you.”
Xie Jing secretly cursed that Lu Lingcong must have lost his mind, for even sober. He dared speak words that insulted the emperor’s dignity.
“Luoyi” was Prince Zhao’s fiefdom. From their conversation, he could basically conclude that the emperor was demanding Lu Lingcong leave the capital and proceed to his domain in Luoyi after the wedding. Lu Lingcong, naturally unwilling to abandon his mother and younger sister, was stubbornly refusing.
“Throughout history, all imperial sons have left the capital to proceed to their fiefdoms after marriage. If you defy the decree today, tomorrow the officials and the common people will use public opinion to pressure you.”
“Then let’s just not go through with this marriage! That way, we’ll avoid the trouble of various rumors, and I can also remain close to Emperor Father and Mother to serve. Wouldn’t everyone be happier?”
Hearing this, Xie Yi’s steps froze. Madam Xie and Lady Yao also exchanged looks. This was the first time the Xie family heard Prince Zhao speak openly about marriage, only to discover he was outright rejecting it at the last moment.
Xie Jing clenched his sweaty palms, yet he heard that the emperor was not angry and did not raise his voice, speaking only flatly:
“Censor Xie hasn’t gone far. Go catch up with him and ask the Xie family what they think on Zhen’s behalf. If they are willing, then retrieve the betrothal gifts that were sent.”
Xie Jing instantly understood, a chill running down his spine. The emperor’s words were not meant only for Lu Lingcong from the beginning. He clearly knew the Xie family was listening with eager ears and had said it intentionally.
His mind raced. Before Xie Yi could stop him, he suddenly turned, walked briskly down the steps against the crowd, stopped, lifted his robe, and knelt beside Lu Lingcong.
Xie Jing bowed deeply and clearly said, “His Highness spoke without thinking, truly in the heat of the moment. The Xie family stands with Prince Zhao’s Mansion through thick and thin; for a thousand faults and ten thousand mistakes, it is only right that we share the responsibility with His Highness.”
