Chapter 112
Chapter 112
[Li Shimin Becomes Wanyan Gou – 32]
The wind in the Supreme Capital was as sharp as a knife, nothing like the gentle breezes of Dongjing (Kaifeng)-just as the peach blossoms of Jiangnan could not easily be transplanted and kept alive beyond the northern frontier.
Of all the flowers in the world, Yongning loved peach blossoms best. The first time Zongzhen saw her was in a peach grove outside Dongjing.
The spring breeze was warm and soothing that third month, and the peach blossoms were in glorious bloom. He was riding past the edge of the grove when he heard someone call from afar, “Yongning!”
Zongzhen turned instinctively. Not far away, a young woman glanced back. She had bright almond eyes, peach-petal cheeks, and a radiant face. When she smiled, every peach blossom covering the hills seemed to lose its color.
His heart stirred and his senses reeled. Almost without realizing it, he followed. He watched the young woman called Yongning enter the imperial city, then sent someone to investigate. Only then did he learn that she was Zhao Yongning, daughter of the Song emperor Zhao Gou.
During the Jingkang Incident, everyone from Song’s emperors down to the imperial clan had been captured and taken to the Supreme Capital. Only Prince Kang Zhao Gou and his family escaped because they happened to be away. He was later acclaimed by the people of Song and ascended the throne.
Yet Song was weak and Jin was strong. Emperor or not, he was little more than a puppet son-emperor. As for this so-called princess…
In Jin’s eyes, she was no different from the imperial princesses who had already been taken north.
Zongzhen and Yongning met, fell in love, and found love and hatred tangled together. After countless reversals and hardships, their countries still stood between them. In the end, they never became husband and wife.
On the day Yongning died, heavy snow fell over the Supreme Capital. She resolutely drew her sword across her own throat. Blood sprayed across the collar of her snow-white robe and stained the fallen snow beneath her a glaring scarlet.
That sight became a nightmare Zongzhen could never escape.
It haunted him until the day he died. His wives, concubines, sons, and daughters gathered around his bed. Withered and nearing his final breath, he lay gasping like a fish dragged from water. Through the haze, he saw Yongning.
She was still as young as she had been in those distant days. Smiling softly, she reached out a hand to him.
A smile appeared on Zongzhen’s aged face. He reached toward her and called in a trembling voice, “Yongning…”
The cold wind howled outside, making the window lattice creak. Zongzhen bolted upright, his forehead streaming with cold sweat, and shouted, “Yongning!”
The person beside him jerked awake. “What is it? What happened?!”
Once he understood the situation, he glared viciously at Zongzhen and suppressed his anger. “Zongzhen, what’s wrong with you? If you don’t want to sleep in the middle of the night, other people still do!”
With that, he lay back down, shook out the quilt, and went to sleep again.
Zongzhen sat dazed on the bed as the face he had just seen surfaced in his mind.
That was Zongjing, his half brother, who was only a few months older.
He clearly remembered that Zongjing had been dead for many years before Zongzhen himself closed his eyes. Yet here he was again, still a young man.
Utterly astonished, Zongzhen lowered his gaze to his own hands. They, too, belonged to his youth-strong and powerful, without the rough, wrinkled skin of old age.
His heart pounded violently, and his breathing grew ragged. What did this mean?
Had he returned to his youth?!
Then what about Yongning? Where was Yongning now?!
Was she still beside her Imperial Father and Imperial Mother, living as a happy little princess?!
Excitement suddenly surged through Zongzhen. Joy welled endlessly from his heart like water bubbling from a spring.
Wonderful, he thought.
He and Yongning were both still young. They had not yet suffered the hardships and obstacles of their previous lives. He still had the chance to correct his old mistakes and make amends for everything he owed her. They had an entire lifetime ahead of them. They could grow old together!
Unconcealed delight touched Zongzhen’s brow. Even the heart that had lost its vitality with age seemed to have become young again.
He climbed eagerly out of bed. Then he looked down and saw a pair of crudely made boots beneath it. His expression stilled, and uncertainty entered his thoughts.
He was a son of Emperor Taizong and a descendant of Jin’s imperial house. His birth mother came from a great Jin clan. When had servants ever dared slight him this way?
Were they perhaps away on a hunting expedition, resting wherever they happened to find shelter?
Why else would he and Zongjing be sleeping in the same room?
Zongzhen did not think deeply. He found himself a convenient explanation, pulled on the boots, and opened the door to look outside. His expression froze instantly.
Red walls and glazed tiles. A smooth road paved with bluestone beneath his feet. Towering palace halls not far away. A cold, bewitching moon in the sky. This did not look remotely like some chance lodging found during a hunt…
The moonlight was icy, and even the bluestone paving seemed covered in cold radiance. The joy that had filled Zongzhen moments ago chilled with alarming speed.
He looked down at his hands again. They were unquestionably the hands of his youth. He could not yet be twenty. At this point in time…
Jin still held the upper hand in the war between Song and Jin. Could he and Zongjing have come as envoys to the Song palace in Lin’an Prefecture?
But how would Song dare treat the two of them with such contempt?
Countless questions filled Zongzhen’s mind, but none had answers. His memory was completely blank. He could not recall why he was here. He glanced back at Zongjing, who was sleeping soundly on the bed. Remembering the other man’s impatience, Zongzhen had even less desire to question him. Instead, he wandered alone through the Song palace under the moonlight.
It was the middle of the night. Most of the lamps in the principal halls of Dongjing’s imperial city had already been extinguished, but the roads, long avenues, gates, and other critical points remained brightly lit. Posts of Imperial Guards stood only a few paces apart, maintaining a tight defense.
The Commander of the Imperial Guards was on duty that night. He had stolen enough time to eat a late-night meal and was making another inspection of the Palace Service Quarters when he saw a youth of sixteen or seventeen strolling along with his hands tucked into his sleeves, looking perfectly at ease. Judging by his clothes, he was a servant, though not a palace eunuch.
The Commander frowned and asked the official guarding the gate, “Who is that? Why is he wandering around at this hour?”
Jin had been destroyed for ten years, but the people of Song had never forgotten the humiliation left by the Jingkang Incident.
The Commander of the Imperial Guards was a native of Dongjing whose entire family had suffered during Jingkang. He had always belonged to the most militant war faction. When he heard that the rule-breaker was a member of Jin’s former imperial clan, he gave a cold laugh. “Why haven’t you seized that animal? This is Dongjing of Song, not their Supreme Capital. They don’t get to run wild here!”
The moment Zongzhen left his lodgings, he sensed that something was even more wrong. The place where he had been housed was too remote and far too shabby.
He had his chin raised as he looked around when two broad, powerfully built Song guards suddenly appeared ahead. Without a word, they twisted both his arms out of joint, pinned them behind his back, and shoved him before a middle-aged man who looked like a military officer.
Zongzhen had been a formidable general in adulthood. At present, however, he was still young and had only just been reborn. Before he could react, agony shot through him, and he lost all feeling in both arms.
Cold sweat poured down his face. His gaze turned murderous, and he was about to bark a furious rebuke when someone kicked the backs of his knees. He nearly pitched forward as he dropped to his knees before the middle-aged commander.
The Commander of the Imperial Guards demanded coldly, “The first watch has already passed. Who gave you permission to come outside?!”
Zongzhen struggled up from the ground. His eyes were dark, his expression even colder than the Commander’s. “Insolence! Do you know who I am?! You southern barbarians dare humiliate me this way!”
The Commander of the Imperial Guards: “…”
Everyone else: “…”
The Commander laughed in fury and kicked him flat. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t want to know. But I do know you’re about to have a very bad time!”
He spat at Zongzhen, then ordered the men beside him, “Drag him away and give him thirty strokes!”
He could not resist jeering to the official from the Palace Service Quarters, “Jin is gone, but this little bastard still has quite the temper. Look at him putting on airs in front of me!”
Very few Song officials cared what happened to these Jurchens. Anyone who did not go out of his way to trample them could be considered a saint. Expect them to plead for mercy?
They could dream on!
The official from the Palace Service Quarters clicked his tongue. Pointing at his own temple, he sighed and said, “There must be something wrong with him here. Just a few days ago, he was an obedient dog, falling all over himself to massage my legs and pour my tea. I don’t know what possessed him today. Suddenly, he’s gone mad!”
Jin had fallen?!
How was that possible!!!
Zongzhen’s eyes nearly split with fury. He lunged forward to demand an explanation, but the Imperial Guards pinning his arms gave him no chance. In a few quick movements, they found a rag, stuffed it into his mouth, pressed him facedown over a nearby bench, and immediately began carrying out the punishment.
Gagged, Zongzhen took all thirty strokes. His flesh split open until his back and buttocks resembled a slab of ruined meat. He collapsed to the ground, unable to move.
The Commander of the Imperial Guards looked at him with disgust and ordered his men to throw him back into the Palace Service Quarters and leave him to live or die. Then he told the official there to watch him closely, lest the Jin dog go mad again and rush out someday to offend a Noble Lady.
The door flew open beneath a kick, jolting Zongjing awake. A furious curse had already risen to his lips, but the instant he saw who had entered, he swallowed it. He climbed out of bed, approached with impeccable respect, and bowed. “Official Sun, what brings you here in the middle of the night?”
The man who had spoken with the Commander of the Imperial Guards-Official Sun of the Palace Service Quarters-covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief and swept a quick glance around the room. He said irritably, “Your brother broke the rules. He violated curfew in the Palace Service Quarters and received thirty strokes. The Imperial Guards have brought him back, and he is lying in the courtyard. You share a room with him, so you are suspected of knowing and failing to report it. You will receive ten strokes as a warning to others!”
“…” Zongjing: “????”
Zongzhen received thirty strokes, and Zongjing received ten. The two truly became brothers in misfortune, collapsed on the bed and unable to rise.
Zongzhen had fainted after the thirty strokes. When he awoke, he found himself surrounded by a shabby room and pain from head to toe. His brother was staring at him with quiet resentment.
This truly was not a dream?!
Horror and pain filled Zongzhen’s face. He looked around, then finally asked in a trembling voice, “Has Great Jin truly fallen?”
Zongjing: “…”
Zongjing erupted. “Fuck your mother, you dog, Zongzhen! What kind of madness are you causing now?! Jin fell years ago, and you’re only realizing it today?! If you want to get yourself killed, fine, but stop dragging me into it! I didn’t see a damned thing. They hauled me out of bed in the middle of the night and beat me anyway. How fucking wronged do you think I feel?!”
Every trace of blood drained from Zongzhen’s face. Even his lips turned white. “Great Jin truly fell!”
Zongjing: “…”
Zongjing laughed in fury. Clutching his aching backside, he struggled out of bed, dropped his trousers, and began urinating on Zongzhen.
Zongzhen wanted to dodge, but his injuries were too severe for him to move. He could only lie there and feel the warm stream strike his body and run down his skin.
Shock and fury turned his face livid. “Zongjing, what are you doing? Have you gone insane?!”
Zongjing roared back, “I’m going to piss you awake if it’s the last thing I do!!!”
…
It took Zongzhen three days to accept that Jin had been destroyed and that he had become a piece of rootless duckweed with nowhere to belong.
His Imperial Father was dead. His mother was dead. His adult brothers were dead. He and Zongjing had survived only because they had still been children when Jin fell and were therefore enslaved in the Palace Service Quarters.
Rebirth…
What a ridiculous rebirth!
He was a servant of Song, while Yongning was a priceless, exalted princess.
A true princess.
And every last one of these changes had happened because of a single man.
The Song emperor Zhao Gou.
If this was a nightmare, Zongzhen wanted to wake at once.
Unfortunately, it was not a nightmare. It was the real world.
Like Yongning in his previous life, when she had been forced into a marriage alliance with Jin, he now had to swallow every humiliation beneath the roof of an enemy state. In fact, his circumstances were even worse than Yongning’s had been.
The Southern Song might have been weak then, but it had not ceased to exist. Even if no one among Jin’s elite respected her, she had still been a princess. Zongzhen, meanwhile, was nothing but a slave from a conquered kingdom.
Pain stabbed through his heart.
He suddenly realized that compared with their previous lives, he and Yongning might have even less chance of ending up together now.
Zongzhen wanted to see the woman he loved. The desire bordered on madness.
Was she well?
Would she remember him?
Could she, like him, still remember their previous lives?
Zongzhen knew nothing about the Song court. He did not dare ask any Song subject how Yongning was doing, so he could only question his brother and roommate, Zongjing.
Compared with the severely injured Zongzhen, Zongjing had received only ten strokes. He was accustomed to beatings after all these years, so after resting for two days, he resumed running errands as usual. He never returned early.
Zongzhen lay on his stomach, unable to turn over. Every muscle seemed numb from the prolonged stillness. He waited and waited. Night was falling by the time Zongjing finally returned, rubbing his shoulders with exhaustion written across his face.
He tossed Zongzhen a coarse-flour steamed bun, dropped heavily onto a stool, seized the teapot, and began gulping down water.
That was how it went when people ordered you around outside. He did not even dare drink much water, afraid he might need the latrine halfway through an errand, delay important business, and be punished.
Zongzhen left the bun untouched. He simply stared at Zongjing until the other man finished drinking, then asked, “Brother, how much do you know about Yongning?”
Zongjing did not understand. He wiped his mouth carelessly with his sleeve. “Yongning? Who?”
Zongzhen explained, “Zhao Yongning, the daughter of Song’s emperor.”
Zongjing: “…”
He stared at Zongzhen in shock.
Zongzhen pressed his lips together and asked, “Do you know where she lives? Where could I go to see her? It would be even better if I had a chance to speak with her.”
Zongjing: “…”
Coming back to himself, Zongjing rose and approached the bed. Then he dropped his trousers and began urinating on him again. “Apparently I didn’t piss you awake the other day!”
Zongzhen: “…”
After taking thirty strokes, Zongzhen remained in bed for more than half a month before he could stand.
To put it politely, he and Zongjing were members of a conquered imperial clan. To put it bluntly, they were captive slaves. Whenever they quarreled with anyone, the supervising petty official needed only one look at the invisible label of *Jurchen* attached to them to decide against them.
With such an identity, how could Zongzhen truly spend several months in bed, stretching out his hands to be dressed and opening his mouth to be fed like some noble prince?
He forced himself up and returned to work. But because he had broken the rules and been caned, the errand position at the Eunuch Directorate that he had secured through careful maneuvering had already been given to someone else. He could only join Zongjing in the filthy, exhausting jobs.
For example, scrubbing chamber pots.
Zongjing even tried to comfort him. “Seeing Princess Jinyang is impossible. If fortune favors you, maybe you’ll get to scrub a chamber pot used by one of her palace maids!”
Zongzhen: “…”
Zongzhen said nothing. With a dark face, he silently scrubbed chamber pots.
Opportunity favored the prepared. That saying truly had some merit.
After plotting and preparing in secret for several months, Zongzhen finally found a chance to see the woman he loved.
The Song emperor was holding an autumn hunt, and palace servants would travel with the court to help. Zongzhen bribed the petty official choosing attendants and thereby secured a place in the party.
Imperial Guards patrolled the hunting grounds without cease. Security was even tighter than inside the palace. Yet the hunting grounds also offered an advantage the palace did not: the masters’ tents stood close together and were easy to identify.
The Reigning Emperor had only one Empress, who had borne him two sons and one daughter. As his only princess, Princess Jinyang naturally drew particular attention.
While shoveling manure near the horse pens, Zongzhen stole glances at the cluster of tents surrounded by dense ranks of Imperial Guards. He had no idea that someone had already noticed his suspicious behavior. Since he was also a Jurchen, it did not take long for the matter to be reported to the Commander of the Imperial Guards.
“Who? Zongzhen? Him again!”
Frost seemed to cover the Commander of the Imperial Guards’ face. His expression was forbidding. “First he violated curfew and ignored palace regulations. Now he is spying on the Emperor’s movements with malicious intent. What is that Jin dog plotting?! Put men on him. Watch him closely. I want to know whether he is acting alone or colluding with someone else in a treasonous scheme!”
Zongzhen had no idea that several pairs of eyes were now watching him. Every day after he finished shoveling manure, he circled the imperial tents a few times, hoping for a chance encounter with the woman he loved.
Perseverance eventually brought its reward. One day, just after he turned a corner in the covered walkway, he heard laughter approaching from nearby. The voice was unmistakably familiar. Even after so many years, he could never forget it.
Yongning.
Zongzhen’s heart shuddered violently, and joy appeared on his face. Then he suddenly remembered his disheveled appearance. He hurriedly looked down and straightened himself, desperate to appear respectable before the woman he loved.
The light footsteps drew closer.
And closer.
She was coming!
Yongning wore riding clothes and a pair of little sheepskin boots. She looked valiant and spirited. Her hair held few ornaments, yet she possessed a radiant, exuberant beauty as brilliant as sunlight.
She seemed to see him as well. Her eyes lit up. Running in his direction, she laughed and called, “Brother Zongzhen!”
Yongning. Yongning!
It’s me!
I’m here!
Heat flooded Zongzhen’s heart, and emotion surged through him. He wanted to answer, but excitement closed his throat, leaving him unable to utter half a word. He was about to step forward to meet her when the young woman swept past him and ran straight toward someone behind him.
Zongzhen’s expression froze.
Inch by inch, he turned his head. A young man stood a short distance behind him, as steady and imposing as a mountain, his tall figure straight as a pine. A smile touched his handsome face as he spread his arms and caught the young woman running toward him.
Yongning laughed, her voice bright and clear, and called again, “Brother Zongzheng!”
Zongzhen: “…”
Zongzhen: “…………”
Words could scarcely describe what he felt at that moment.
It was as if an earthquake and a tsunami struck at once, destroying everything and leaving not the faintest trace of hope.
Zongzhen stared at the young couple embracing nearby. It felt as though someone had plunged a knife through his heart, tearing open a great hole into which a freezing wind howled. He bit through his own tongue, filling his mouth with the sweet metallic taste of blood.
Brother Zongzheng.
Then what was he?
In all the vastness between Heaven and Earth, what did he have left?
The world spun around Zongzhen as panic filled his heart. Suddenly, a roar filled his ears. By the time his senses returned, he had already been thrown to the ground. A boot pressed down on his cheek, grinding it firmly into the dirt.
Caught completely unprepared, Zongzhen felt agony tear through his jaw. He coughed violently and spat out a mouthful of blood with two teeth mixed inside.
When the Commander of the Imperial Guards heard that the Jin criminal had slipped close to Princess Jinyang, cold sweat drenched him. If the Princess came to harm under his protection-if that Jurchen took her hostage…
He did not dare think any further!
After ordering his men to seize Zongzhen at once, the Commander personally went to Princess Jinyang and pleaded guilty. “This remnant of Jin harbored malicious intentions, and this subject failed to apprehend him in time. I beg the Princess’s forgiveness!”
Zhao Yongning had ridden and hunted with her father since childhood. She was far braver than an ordinary young woman. Besides, with Zongzheng beside her, an accident was practically impossible.
She smiled and showed no displeasure. “I am unharmed. Go attend to your duties.”
The Commander thanked her, exchanged a small nod with Zongzheng, then wiped away his cold sweat and ordered his men to take Zongzhen somewhere secluded for interrogation.
Yongning was fifteen that year, old enough for marriage discussions. The choice of husband was obvious: Brother Zongzheng, her childhood companion, with whom she shared a mutual love!
Her Imperial Father had been reluctant to marry her off so young. Yet Marshal Zong was old. Allowing the old man to see his grandson wed and enjoy four generations beneath one roof as soon as possible would be a happy occasion.
Yongning was the only daughter of the Emperor and Empress and the most exalted princess of the dynasty. Her wedding ceremony was naturally magnificent beyond compare.
Without that joyless country bumpkin Wei Zheng to spoil everything, Li Shimin could finally stuff his daughter’s dowry with extravagance and feel entirely justified about it!
Splendor filled the court. The crimson bridal procession stretched for miles. A multitude of nations came to offer congratulations, and enormous Dongjing seemed to become an ocean of celebration.
Yongning took her leave of the two empress dowagers. Then she and her Prince Consort kowtowed to her parents before departing the palace together to begin a new life.
After her marriage, she occasionally mentioned the small incident from the autumn hunt to her husband. She merely felt that even after Jin had been gone for more than a decade, its survivors still harbored treacherous ambitions and could not be left unwatched.
As for that particular Jurchen, she never asked what had become of him.
He had probably died.