chapter 5

That month, my arms and cheeks were sunburned, and when my imperial father learned that I had slipped out in plain clothes, he punished me by confining me to my quarters and making me copy out a thick stack of Admonitions for Women.

Oddly enough, when I had copied Admonitions for Women as a child, my mother would angrily insist it was all nonsense, but I had been pampered in the palace and never truly understood.

Now that I had weathered wind and rain, I gained a different insight.

Ban Zhao had married at fourteen, and for more than forty years she toiled trembling, morning and night, diligently asking for nothing — all so she would not be cast out by her husband’s family or loathed and discarded by her husband.

All seven long chapters, from empresses and princesses down to peasant women and maidservants, everyone had to obey them.

My mother could not stand it. She copied them along with me, cursing as she wrote. “Jing’an, do you know what the difference is between a woman and a dog in these households that strictly follow Admonitions for Women?”

Every time my mother spoke so boldly, I would be thoroughly shocked.

That was always how she was — well-versed in books and poetry, yet addicted to cursing.

When I was small, I advised her to speak more elegantly, and she waved it off. “A modern college student — of unpredictable character, who only grows stronger against stronger foes. Faced with a pack of green teas and trash men, all I can do is spit fragrant curses.”

So by now I was used to it, and could only pat her cheek, signaling her to lower her voice. “I don’t know, Mother. Please tell me.”

She leaned close to me, speaking with deep disgust. “The difference is that women can understand human speech, but dogs cannot — so they only speak to women.”

I thought of some of my mother’s old stories.

I had been very small then, and could not fully understand.

For instance, while other consorts thought only of how to dress up and attract the Emperor, she would stay in her chambers reading, writing, and learning to make incense. She was especially skilled at mathematics, and even my imperial father often came to ask her advice.

Or again: when my mother was at the height of favor, the Empress often came to make trouble for her, but my mother simply asked for the contraceptive brew of her own accord and sniffed at the imperial princes that others dreamed of bearing.

“Raise a daughter well, and she will see me through my old age and to my grave. Raise a son badly, and he is no better than if he had never been born.”

This free-spiritedness fascinated my imperial father deeply, and the consorts of all six palaces envied her beyond measure. Yet my mother said to me:

“You see, how interesting — men love the women who don’t love them. The less you smile at him, the more obsessed he becomes, because human nature is greedy, and what you cannot have is always the best.”

Content with a single princess, bearing no more children and not clinging to His Majesty — naturally this dispelled malice from many directions.

But the root of it was not fear. On the contrary, it was because she feared nothing.

She was not afraid of dying without a good end because she had borne no imperial prince. She often believed that whatever my imperial brothers could do, I could do too.

So from the bottom of my heart, I loved and valued my mother.

Just as I admired Wei Lingxiao.

Because they equally respected me, valued me, and believed in me.

Watching my mother’s expression of utter disgust at the present situation, I reached out and ran my fingers over every character of Admonitions for Women.

At last I said to her, unhurriedly, “Since I am to have everything my imperial brothers can have, that naturally includes the throne.”

I did not need to look at my mother’s face. I knew she had been waiting all along for me to say this.

And that month, besides saving Aunt Li’s little boy, another piece of good news gave me something to look forward to.

An urgent dispatch from eight hundred li away in the northern wasteland brought word that Wei Lingxiao had won a great victory and was immediately returning to court.

When I made inquiries, I learned that she had crossed the border and seized the Seven Cities of the Snow Realm from the Snow Desert Kingdom.

When I heard the news, I first let out a long breath, grateful that she was still alive.

But soon I frowned.

The Guanyue Kingdom had spent years warring in every direction; its coffers were hollow and it could barely feed itself. How could it dare to plunder the cities of another kingdom?

So on the day Wei Lingxiao returned to court to report on her duties, I sent someone to invite her to the rear palace to discuss matters.

In the first snow of early winter, I set a banquet for her in the Rain-Listening Pavilion.

On the snow-white palace path, against the deep green of the pine and cypress, she wore silver armor over crimson robes, like a red sun rising over the great desert river.

One glance, and all I could see was Wei Lingxiao — nothing else.