Chapter 20

Chapter 20

It was a chaotic, savage age, remembered in history as the Ten Years of Northern Invasion.

The nobles of Northern Qian stirred restlessly, each scheming for a higher station. The remnant court of Southern Xu clung to its small corner of the realm and, despite repeated campaigns, had yet to be conquered. Rebel armies rose one after another across the land. Even in the mountains near Nancheng, a band of outlaws had gathered under the Linbei Bandit King. Hidden among densely folded hills and drawing vicious fugitives from far and wide, they had become a threat at the very heart of Great Qin.

In troubled times, people place twice as much faith in gods and spirits. A religion known as the Primordial Origin Faith had risen among the common people. Its hierarchy consisted of the Heavenly Venerable, Imperial Venerable, and Mortal Venerable, with the Seventy-Two Orders beneath them. Its followers could be found across the realm. Once, a Great Qin official came into conflict with some of the faithful. That same night, he died in his home.

The situation was chaotic, yet within that chaos lay a delicate balance. Every faction was poised to move, but none dared be first. Chen Dong least of all. He knew Danchi had become my puppet, but years of suppression had cost him the absolute power he once held over Northern Qian. Thus, he maneuvered carefully at court and husbanded his strength.

Within this precarious peace, surrounded by prowling tigers, I did everything in my power to protect the people of Southern Xu.

But I knew it could not last. I had planted my pieces among all eighteen tribes of Northern Qian, yet one fatal knot remained: Danchi and I had no child. The moment he died and the north fell into turmoil, I would surely perish. Then every policy of “kindly governance toward the southerners” enacted through my influence would collapse with me.

In the tenth year after Southern Xu fell, I reached my twenty-sixth birthday.

In truth, I had never celebrated my birthday in Southern Xu. That was the day the Crown Prince died in battle, the Crown Princess died in childbirth, and Southern Xu finally submitted to Northern Qian. No one had the heart to celebrate on such a day. Later, Zhiqiu would cook noodles for me and accompany every bowl with a hundred repetitions of “Xihe must be a good girl.” How I had hated hearing it then.

But how could the empress of a realm fail to celebrate her birthday? Particularly in so delicate a political climate, every gift exchanged revealed an undercurrent at court.

The day was pleasantly mild. Morning sunlight flowed clear as water, and the breeze stirred the branches of the autumn hibiscus, setting their shadows swaying. I drank tea while listening to Youchun read from the gift register.

“Wei Lü, third-rank official of the Ministry of Rites: ten boxes of pressed Pu’er tea.”

“Yu Qing, Duke of the First Rank: ten chests of uncut jadeite, ten chests of agate… and numerous other items. Once tallied, their value comes to thirty thousand taels. He will attend the banquet in person tonight.”

“At least he understands which way the wind blows.”

Yu Qing was Danchi’s younger brother and Chen Dong’s bitter enemy. He had drawn close to me over the years and was one of the military powers upon whom I relied.

“The remnant court of Southern Xu has sent an envoy with birthday gifts. Will you receive him, Princess?”

“No. Reward him with something and send him away.”

It was laughable, really. In recent years, rumors had gradually spread that the empress of Northern Qian bore a striking resemblance to Princess Xihe. My imperial brother, who still presided over his little remnant court, had apparently heard them. He had sent men more than once to sound me out. He was over fifty now, yet the first line of the letter that accompanied his gift read: “The Southern slave commandery prince respectfully inquires after the well-being of the Imperial Mother of Great Qin…”

Among northerners, it was customary to address the king as Father and his queen as Mother. There was nothing inherently objectionable in that. But the way he described himself sickened me.

Youchun was about to continue when a palace attendant entered to announce a visitor.

“Your Majesty, Lady Wei Lü requests an audience.”

Youchun brightened. “Dengxin’er is here.”

I nodded. “Mm. Hurry and bring that over for her to see. Give her a fright!”

Youchun answered and left.

Dengxin’er had eventually married a Northern Qian man named Wei Lü, a military adviser at Chen Dong’s side. Much of what I knew about Chen Dong reached me by circuitous paths through her.

“This subject greets Your Majesty.”

She knelt and bowed. Ten years had passed. She had borne two children and was now carrying a third. She was much fuller in figure, though something of the brisk young woman she had been still lingered around her eyes and brows.

“You are heavy with child. There is no need for such ceremony between sisters.” I lifted the teapot, pouring amber tea slowly into a cup. “The plantation is doing well. One sip of this tea, and the days in Southern Xu feel close enough to touch.”

Dengxin’er smiled shyly. “It is only thanks to Your Majesty’s favor. If you enjoy it, I will send more.”

“Then I shall trouble you. Drinking alone is always rather bleak. Come, share a cup with me.”

I set the tea I had poured with my own hand onto a tray and had an attendant carry it to her.

Dengxin’er’s expression changed at once. She stared at the cup, lips trembling, but did not take it for a long time.
The attendant urged her in a cold voice. “My lady, Her Majesty received countless rare treasures for her birthday, yet yours was the only tea she opened. That is an extraordinary honor. Do not fail to appreciate it.”

She had no choice but to accept. Her hands trembled so badly that the cup rattled faintly against its saucer.

My smile slowly vanished. I watched her without expression. “Dengxin’er, when you left home today, I sent men to your residence.”

Her head snapped up. She stared at me, eyes wide with terror.

“Pan’er is five this year, isn’t she? I am very fond of her. His Majesty and I have no children, and I have long considered taking one to raise at my side…”

Dengxin’er’s hand jerked. The cup fell and shattered on the ground.

“Princess, I won’t dare again… Please, Princess! It was all my fault. Don’t touch her. Please don’t touch my daughter…”

Tears streamed down her face as she kowtowed again and again.

I did not look at her. Instead, I slowly poured another cup and had the attendant present it.

“Drink.” I looked into her eyes and spoke softly, each word deliberate. “Otherwise, what Youchun brings back will be Pan’er’s corpse.”

Dengxin’er stared at the tea as if it were a venomous serpent or savage beast. Then she slowly reached out, took the cup, and drained it.

When she finished, all strength seemed to leave her. She collapsed onto her knees and began to sob.

I laughed bitterly at myself. “They know how suspicious I am. Anything I consume is tested over and over – anything except your tea.”

Dengxin’er crawled forward and clung to my feet, weeping hysterically. “Princess, he forced me. I had no choice… It wasn’t poison. It would only make you barren…”

I tore myself free with a cold laugh. “And if I already carried a child, as you do now? What then?”

She sobbed and avoided my eyes.

“Mother and child both dead. The baby perishing in the womb. Is that it?”

I arched a brow, smiling lightly as I spoke.

She broke into wails and kowtowed desperately. “Princess, I was wrong. I deserve to die. Please spare Pan’er. Spare my child!”

As she wept, watery sunlight filtered through the branches and fell across my face, one half bright, the other in shadow.

“Princess! I brought it!”

Youchun’s cheerful voice rang out nearby. Dengxin’er spun around in terror and saw her hurrying toward us, a kitten in her arms and delight written across her face.

“You were always saying you’d give the princess one of Little Civet’s kittens, but Little Civet died and you never did!” Youchun planted one hand on her hip, looking immensely pleased with herself. “I heard that Little Flower, one of Little Civet’s kittens, had a litter of her own yesterday. Her Highness sent someone to steal the prettiest one this morning! Well? Gave you a fright, didn’t it?”

Dengxin’er stared blankly at Youchun, then at me. “Pan’er…”

“When I went for the kitten, little Pan’er even cried! I told her, ‘Your empress-aunt wants it. She dotes on you so much – how can you be stingy over one little kitten?’ Only then did she let me take it.”

At last, Youchun noticed Dengxin’er’s tears. She started in surprise. “Why are you crying? Did we really scare you that badly?”

I smiled. “The tea is unpleasant. Dengxin’er found it bitter.”

“It is unpleasant. It was a tribute gift, and I found it bitter too.” Youchun wiped Dengxin’er’s tears away, utterly bewildered. “But that’s no reason to cry! You really are too delicate.”

The kitten seized its chance to jump down. It vanished in a few bounds, making Youchun stamp her foot in frustration.

I looked at the two of them and smiled faintly. “Keep Dengxin’er company and show her around the garden. I’m going to find that little creature.”

Dengxin’er looked at me uncertainly, as if she wished to speak. “Princess…”

I stopped but did not turn. “Call me Empress.”

I walked slowly out of the garden. The day had only just begun, so why was I already so weary? Every step felt as though I were treading on clouds.

But where was the cat?

The one that had slept beside my pillow when I awoke from the frozen cavern at the edge of death – where had it gone?

Oh. It was dead. I was looking for its descendants. Yet no matter how I searched, why could I not find them?

A guard watched my face with some alarm. “Your Majesty, what have you lost? This servant will help you find it.”

“It’s nothing. I have lost so much already. What difference can one thing more or less possibly make?”

Just then, a cat meowed in the distance. I followed the sound and saw a young monk kneeling beneath a crimson wall. The kitten was curled before him, lazily scratching itself with one hind leg.

What was a monk doing inside the palace?

“Who are you?” I asked.

He raised his head, and I froze where I stood.