Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The National Preceptor’s lessons went on for seven years.

In truth, by the later years, there was very little left for him to teach. Most of our time was spent in discussion.

Over those seven years, my uncles were enfeoffed as princes one after another. The seat of the Eastern Palace remained vacant, yet His Majesty was already approaching seventy. The Advisory Court quarreled until the roof nearly came down, and under pressure, he named his eldest son, the Prince of Qin, Crown Prince last year.

My elder cousins had, for the most part, all married. Those who had not were already betrothed. Of our generation, I was the only one with no prospects settled.

I never took the initiative to attend marriage viewings, and families of suitable rank all feared the prophecy of a regicide. They were terrified that one day an imperial edict granting a marriage might suddenly descend upon them.

Their fear of me, in turn, preserved my freedom.

After the National Preceptor’s lessons ended, I had much more time to myself. Even so, as before, I mostly stayed at the manor, wanting to spend more time with my grandaunt.

Thanks to her almost excessive diligence in maintaining her health, she was now seventy-two and still quite hale. It was only that the injuries she had sustained in her youth often made themselves known, and on occasion she needed a wheelchair to get around.

I had learned some massage and therapeutic manipulation from my maternal grandfather, and I often massaged my grandaunt’s waist and legs where old ailments lingered. Today, as usual, she was lying on her stomach and letting me knead her muscles when someone from the palace arrived to summon me.

The one who came to fetch me was an apprentice of Eunuch Qiu, the chief inner court eunuch at my imperial grandfather’s side-a steward surnamed Chen.

I probed indirectly, asking, “I entered the palace the day before yesterday to pay my respects, and His Majesty was in good health, with no discomfort to speak of. Steward Chen, you have come in such haste. Has something serious happened?”

“Please rest assured, Princess. His Majesty merely wishes to invite you into the palace to speak with him.”

After getting down from the carriage and entering the palace gates, however, Steward Chen led me to Hanzhang Hall. It was early summer, and the hall doors had been opened for ventilation. I could hear officials speaking inside.

Eunuch Qiu was waiting at the entrance. When he saw me, he stepped aside, extended a hand in invitation, and guided me into the hall.

I braced myself and went in, stopping only when I reached the side of the screen. There were five officials in the hall, their court robes two purple and three crimson, and all of them were quite surprised by my arrival.

I gave a graceful bow. Seated upright in the hall, my imperial grandfather said kindly, “Lingyi, come stand a little closer.”

An official with a mustache hurriedly said, “Your Majesty! For the princess to enter Hanzhang Hall and listen to matters of governance is not in accordance with propriety.”

“It is no matter. I summoned her here precisely because I wanted all of you to hear her thoughts.”

“This… This subject requests that Your Majesty place a screen between us. We are all outer court officials. This is still improper.”

“It is not as if you have never seen her before. She is grown now. It would do her no harm to recognize the court officials. If Lord Song does not wish to listen, you may leave on your own.”

The five officials and I were equally bewildered. For a moment, we all looked at one another, the atmosphere unbearably awkward.

“Minister Ji, explain it to her.”

Chancellor Ji nodded in acknowledgment, turned slightly toward me, and began to explain why they were here.

Great Zhao maintained friendly relations with the White Di Kingdom in the north. The White Di people lived as nomads, and through the mutual trade of cattle, sheep, horses, tea, fruit, and vegetables, the two sides had established a stable alliance. After the new White Di ruler took power, he claimed he wished to show sincerity, and so this year he sent over more than a dozen extra foals.

The prefecture that received them at the time temporarily penned all the young horses together. After raising them for two days, they suddenly discovered that most of the foals were infected with disease. Fortunately, once the horses had been delivered, they were separated and raised apart. At present, not many of our own horses had fallen ill; otherwise, the money spent on this batch would have been thrown straight into the water.

The military governor took men to question the White Di side, but they swore up and down that the horses they had sent were all healthy. The new ruler said the gift had been made for the sake of relations between the two nations, yet now they were being subjected to such suspicion-could it be that Great Zhao intended to start a war?

After all, some time had indeed passed since the horses were delivered. Although it was certain that they had already been diseased before they were sent, there was ultimately still a lack of evidence. Now, though this hot potato had been dealt with, many small surrounding states and vassal kings were watching what would happen next. Great Zhao had to make its stance clear.

I pondered for a moment. “I have heard something of this new ruler as well. He is brash and warlike. Relying on his mother’s tribe, he killed four of his elder brothers before he could take the throne. Now, I imagine he wants to start a war to establish his authority, but lacks a proper pretext, which is why he resorted to this scheme. If no one discovered it, we would naturally suffer no small loss. If it was discovered, he could still turn around and accuse us instead.”

My imperial grandfather took a sip of tea and asked, “Lingyi, what is your view?”

“If we seek peace and show goodwill, it will inevitably damage national prestige and lose the people’s support. Yet we absolutely must not let the new White Di ruler have his way. This matter is difficult. We must rely on the wisdom of the honored ministers here.”

I cupped my hands and bowed. The officials opposite me returned the courtesy and said a few words about it being their duty as subjects.

The sound of a teacup being set down on the table interrupted the polite exchange. My imperial grandfather looked at me and narrowed his eyes slightly, seeming less than satisfied.

“Tell the honored ministers what you said yesterday.”

As he spoke, his hand loosely circled the teacup, and his index finger tapped twice against its side, producing two crisp sounds.

That was not a small habit he had when thinking.

It was an explicit signal-one only I could understand.