Chapter 64
Proofreader : Mim
They all understood that this was not the best place to talk—ears were everywhere.
When the carriage stopped at Hulu Alley, Li Zhi and the others disembarked one after another.
“This is your token, Miss. Starting tomorrow, you can use it to enter and exit the imperial palace.”
The attendant who had accompanied them handed Li Zhi an object before driving the carriage back toward the palace.
In the sunlight, Li Zhi examined the gilded token. The four characters “Sizheng Li Zhi” gleamed under the red rays of the sun.
Female officials typically served the Empress, but as there was no empress in the current palace, the female official system essentially reported directly to the Emperor.
The Emperor’s decree would inevitably place her in the spotlight in the short term. Those with ulterior motives would scrutinize his every word, dissecting his intentions at every turn.
If she were a man, their speculation would have gone in even more directions.
But she was a woman—a beautiful, young woman.
People’s assumptions would almost certainly converge on a single interpretation.
Yet Li Zhi knew what she wanted. No slander or defamation could harm her in the slightest.
Not even gods or demons could stand in her way.
—–
As the twilight blanketed the capital, the large residences in the eastern city lit their lanterns.
The connected rows of lanterns cast a warm glow, while the small vendors who had set up stalls during the day packed up their goods and returned home.
In the western city, though veiled in night, a few oil lamps flickered here and there. Near the moat, however, Hui Xue Tower stood tall, its halls ablaze with light.
Hui Xue Tower was an expansive estate with pavilions, flowing streams, and artificial mountains—every feature of luxury. It was said that the head chef was a retired imperial chef whose skills were so refined that a single bite of his cooking was unforgettable. Though the building bore a sign indicating it was an establishment, it rarely opened its doors. According to rumors, only the most distinguished individuals in the capital were ever permitted to step inside.
Tonight, a very special guest had arrived.
“…Xie Lanxu truly has the devil’s own luck,” said Prince Jing with a cold sneer as he set down an empty wine cup. A close confidant hurried to refill it.
The chamber was outfitted with ivory mats, gold-inlaid and jewel-encrusted wine vessels, and a lacquered dining table embedded with mother-of-pearl. The flickering candlelight illuminated the luxurious furnishings.
The room was filled with trusted aides, all loyal followers of Xie Jingtan. At this moment, they sat with their heads bowed, not daring to speak.
“Even diamond poison couldn’t kill him. Is he some kind of immortal?!”
Though silent, none could escape his wrath.
“Master Fan,” Xie Jingtan said, turning his piercing gaze to one of the officials. “If I recall correctly, it was your idea to get rid of Xie Lanxu while he was captured by the bandits. You said it would be simple—rescuing him in name but eliminating him in reality. Did I misremember?”
Master Fan broke out in a cold sweat and bowed low over the ivory mat.
“Prince Jing, I… I did say that…”
With a sharp motion, Xie Jingtan slammed his empty cup back onto the table.
“Then why is Xie Lanxu still alive and well, prancing around in front of me?!”
“Your Highness, please forgive me…”
“Every task I entrust to you fails miserably! Not only is Xie Lanxu still alive, but you’ve failed to uncover the force that bribed the bandits. What use do I have for you?!”
Seeing Xie Jingtan’s anger, everyone in the room shrank back in fear, not daring to speak. Master Fan, trembling, fell to his knees.
“The matter has come to this, Your Highness should think about what to do in the future.” At last, one man among them dared to speak. His calm words seemed to soothe Xie Jingtan’s rage, as if he had found a backbone.
“In your opinion, Master Qian, what should I do next?”
“With his success at Mingyue Tower, Xie Lanxu’s momentum is already established. Eliminating him now will not be easy. Fortunately, we have planted an informant by his side who can relay information to us at any time. In my view, Your Highness would be better served by… letting things run their course.”
“Let things run their course?”
“Yes. Let things run their course,” said Qian Yiwan, the Second Rank Imperial Censor. “The situation is already set in stone. Xie Lanxu has returned to the capital and is now under intense scrutiny. If we act against him now, the risk of exposure is too great. At this point, he is merely a minor prince and a small official at the Minister of Justice—hardly a threat to Your Highness’s position. Acting rashly would yield no benefits.”
“Then what should I do?” Xie Jingtan asked, his brows furrowed.
“In the struggle for the crown prince’s position, your true rival is Prince Feng,” Qian Yiwan explained slowly. “Before Prince Feng can make his move, Your Highness should bring Xie Lanxu into your fold.”
“But Xie Lanxu…” Xie Jingtan wavered, though he was clearly tempted. “As the son of the deposed Crown Prince, his status is sensitive. Who would be willing to side with him? How can he help me?”
“Your Highness, do not forget: Xie Lanxu has something precious—His Majesty’s guilt.”
Realization dawned on Xie Jingtan’s face, and he smiled.
“Before the Ninth Prince makes a move against him, I must secure him for myself.”
—-
Ziwei Palace, Imperial Study
In recent years, the Emperor had taken up woodworking and painting as hobbies.
This evening, he had just completed a lifelike model of a waterwheel. Placing it in the pool, he watched it turn as if it were real. His mood was buoyant as he admired his work.
A servant from the Office of Attendants entered, carrying a tray. But the Emperor remained still for a long moment.
“Your Majesty?” Gao Shan, the senior eunuch, bent low and asked respectfully.
“Gao Shan,” the Emperor said slowly, “do you think she resents me for neglecting her these past two years?”
Gao Shan’s head was bowed so low that his expression was unreadable.
“Your Majesty is the ruler of all under heaven. Flowers and grass that receive the Emperor’s rain and dew can only be grateful. How could they dare expect more?”
“And yet, my heart is so conflicted,” the Emperor murmured. “When I see her, I can’t help but think of that day long ago… the day that changed her and her sister’s lives—and mine.”
The Emperor lapsed into wistful silence. Gao Shan, wise enough to remain quiet, listened like a block of wood, letting the words pass from one ear to the other.
“I thought I had forgotten. But when I saw her again, it all came back… her dance on the lotus platform. It seems I never forgot after all.”
Memories flooded back, and the Emperor suddenly stood.
“Gao Shan, do you think… I should leave the palace to see her?”
“The palace gates are already closed, Your Majesty. Leaving now would disturb the Noble Consort,” Gao Shan advised. “If you wish to make it up to Miss Li, why not prepare rare and precious gifts for her eighteenth birthday? Her birthday will be the talk of the capital for an entire year.”
“Eighteen?” the Emperor asked, startled.
“Yes, Your Majesty. After the New Year, Miss Li will turn eighteen.”
The Emperor thought of Li Zhi’s appearance earlier that day—poised and graceful, already a young woman.
The tide of emotions in his heart suddenly settled.
“…Very well. Do as you suggested. Make sure her birthday is celebrated in grand fashion.”
“Rest assured, Your Majesty. I will handle everything,” Gao Shan promised. Then, bowing again, he asked, “Your Majesty, which consort shall you visit tonight?”
The servant holding the tray of silver plaques, each inscribed with the name of a consort, had been waiting so long that his hands trembled slightly. Upon hearing the question, he steadied himself.
The Emperor’s gaze swept over the plaques. Each day, only six were presented. Some consorts rarely appeared on the tray, while others—like Noble Consort Yi—were fixtures.
Her arrogance was merely the result of his indulgence and favoritism.
The Emperor chuckled softly to himself and picked up the tiger-head plaque bearing Noble Consort Yi’s name.
“To Noble Consort Yi,” Gao Shan announced.
The night in the capital stretched on, long and quiet.
—–
At daybreak, the Li Zhi’s Residence was already bustling with activity.
The Mansion was small: apart from the three siblings—Li Zhi, Li Xiangsheng, and Li Cien—there were only Jia Sui, Hei Huo, and the bedridden Old Madam Li, paralyzed from a stroke.
Li Zhi’s Residence was stunningly beautiful. Its previous owner was a noble of the former dynasty, and the estate’s design was understated yet elegant. Particularly remarkable was the rear courtyard, where each column of the covered walkway was painted with lifelike wisteria blossoms. Walking through it felt like stepping into the perpetual spring of blooming wisterias.
Li Zhi allocated the main courtyard to the Old Madam, while she and Jia Sui lived in the eastern wing, and Li Xiangsheng, Li Cien, and Hei Huo stayed in the western wing.
Li Zhi had no personal affection for the Old Madam—less, even, than she had for her late legitimate mother, Madam Wang. The arrangement was not out of filial respect but simply to avoid future accusations of neglecting the elderly, a potential weak point others might exploit.
Standing at the gate, Li Zhi supervised as workers from the palace hung the new plaque above the entrance.
The gilded characters for “Li Residence” gleamed brightly under the light of the dawn sky.
“Miss!”
A voice, excited and trembling, broke the moment. Both Li Zhi and Jia Sui turned toward the sound.
Running toward them, carrying a small cloth bundle, was Jia He. Even before she reached them, tears were already glistening in her eyes.
“Miss!”
With a burst of speed, Jia He threw herself into Li Zhi’s arms, clutching her tightly.
It was an act no ordinary servant could perform without punishment, but Jia He… their relationship had long since surpassed the boundaries of master and servant.
As Li Zhi felt the familiar warmth of Jia He’s embrace, her own eyes began to sting.
Not wanting to show her tears in front of everyone, Li Zhi smiled and made a playful remark.
“Jia He, I arrived in the capital yesterday—why are you only here now?”
“Miss, you don’t understand!” Jia He began chattering energetically. “As soon as I got the news, I set off right away—I didn’t delay for a moment! The old coachman I hired got so annoyed with me for urging him on that he said I should just pull the cart myself if I thought the ox was too slow! Can you believe it? I paid him! And then I had a huge argument with him right on the cart, and after that—”
Two years had passed, but Jia He was just as lively and carefree as the day Li Zhi had first met her. Li Zhi smiled warmly, patiently listening to the long-awaited, charming complaints.
Jia Sui and Jia He were twins, much like Li Zhi and her late twin sister had been. Jia Sui’s calm temperament made her an ideal close attendant for Li Zhi, while Jia He’s bright personality suited her for serving Li Xia. Now, the two sisters had reunited, but Li Zhi could never recover the missing half of her own soul.
When the plaque was finally in place, Li Zhi led Jia Sui and Jia He into the residence, stepping onto the covered walkway adorned with painted wisteria.
“Miss, where will I be staying from now on?” Jia He asked eagerly.
“You’ll stay in the western wing. From now on, you’ll be Cien’s personal maid,” Li Zhi replied.
“What?!” Jia He blurted out in surprise. “I don’t want to!”
“Jia He, are you refusing to follow my instructions?”
“Of course not, Miss! But—why would I go there? I want to stay by your side!” Jia He stopped in her tracks, her expression both upset and aggrieved. “We’ve only just reunited—why are you pushing me away? I’ve always been—”
Though quick-tempered, Jia He was not foolish. The look in Li Zhi’s eyes cut her short before she could finish her sentence.
“We’re all under the same roof. How can that be called ‘pushing you away’?” Li Zhi asked coolly.
Jia He couldn’t argue and slowly lowered her head, her eyes growing red.
Li Zhi stepped forward, gently taking Jia He’s hand. “You and Jia Sui are like my left and right arms. Who else could I trust if not you two?”
Tears welled in Jia He’s eyes as she said, “Miss, you could send Jia Sui to Cien instead.”
“I have my reasons for arranging things this way,” Li Zhi explained. “Can I trust you to take care of Cien just as you’ve cared for me?”
Seeing that Li Zhi’s mind was made up, Jia He could only nod reluctantly.
“Fine… I’ll do as you say.”
“I’ve also recovered Jia Sui’s servitude papers from the Lu family and destroyed them,” Li Zhi said, taking Jia Sui’s hand with her free one. “The two of you are now completely free. While we may appear as master and servant in public, in private… we are sisters. Is that acceptable?”
Jia He didn’t hesitate to nod.
Li Zhi smiled. “You’ve arrived just in time. Once you’re settled in, I’ll have something for you to do.”
“What is it?” Jia He asked, her eyes lighting up with anticipation.
“I need you to visit the yamen (government office) and find a man named Zhen Qiao. He used to oversee exile transports. Once you locate him, deliver this letter to him.” Li Zhi handed her the task, then turned to Jia Sui. “I also have something for you. Take some money and go to the employment agency to purchase some reliable servants for the Mansion. Look for orphans or families selling themselves together i.e. people with no ties.”
“Understood,” Jia Sui said with a nod.
Jia Sui, dependable as ever, immediately set out. By dinner, she returned with twelve impoverished individuals who had sold themselves into servitude.
Some were orphans, while others were entire farming families forced into servitude by poverty.
Li Zhi demanded little from them—loyalty was her only requirement. She appointed Jia Sui as the head housekeeper, responsible for managing the new staff.
As for the bedridden Old Madam Li, Li Zhi had not yet visited her. She’d only heard that the woman had tried to assert herself as the head of the Residence, despite her condition. Before Li Zhi’s return to the capital, the Old Madam had been living with the family of Li Zhi’s second uncle, who had split off from the main family years ago.
Her uncle, Li Qiantong, was said to be even more scholarly than Li Zhi’s father, though far more rigid in character. Unlike Li Qiaonian, who was shrewd and sociable, Qiantong’s career had stalled at the Sixth Rank, and he retired after Li Qiaonian’s downfall.
However, Qiantong’s son showed great promise. Despite his young age, he had already attained a Sixth-Rank position in the Imperial Guard, with a bright future ahead.
While Li Zhi was busy assigning tasks to the new staff, the newly appointed doorman delivered two invitations.
The first was expected: an invitation from Prince Jing (Xie Jingtan) for Li Zhi and her siblings to attend a banquet at Hui Xue Tower in two days to celebrate their return to the capital.
The second, however, was a surprise.
It was an ornately embossed invitation to a flower-viewing banquet, sent by Princess He’an, who had already been married off.
Li Zhi had little recollection of Princess He’an.
The princess was known for being plain in appearance and talent, the least remarkable among the imperial princesses. Her demeanor was similarly ordinary. The only notable thing about her was her family background.
Princess He’an’s mother was the Noble Consort Yi, the Emperor’s favorite, and her brother was Prince Feng, a strong contender for the throne.
Li Zhi couldn’t fathom why such a low-profile, conflict-averse princess would extend an invitation to her so quickly.
Saying it was merely a “courtesy” seemed far too coincidental.
“Will Miss be attending?” Jia He asked, tilting her head toward the two invitations. “Both events are scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.”
Li Zhi wondered whether the overlapping invitations were a subtle attempt to force her to take a side in the court’s factional struggles.
“…I won’t go to either,” Li Zhi said. “I’ll write my replies myself later.”
“Miss, aren’t you afraid of offending them?” Jia He asked, astonished.
“I am now partly a member of the court. It’s not wise to get too close to people outside the palace,” Li Zhi said with a faint smile.
Jia He looked confused but didn’t press further.
That evening, Li Zhi penned polite refusals to both invitations, citing her upcoming duties as Sizheng, which required her attention the following day.
—–
At dawn, Li Zhi would officially assume her new post as Sizheng, but there was still much to prepare.
The Mansion lacked basic necessities, and her younger siblings needed proper items as well. There was truly much to handle.
In the end, the excuse she used to decline the invitations wasn’t entirely untrue.
The next day, she spent every waking moment preparing for her upcoming responsibilities.
What required the most effort were the intricate palace rules. Survival in the imperial harem demanded that one memorize every regulation backward and forward.
It wasn’t until Jia Sui lit the evening lamps that Li Zhi realized the sky outside was now scattered with stars.
“What time is it?” Li Zhi asked.
“The hour of Xu,” Jia Sui replied.
[Note: Chinese traditional timekeeping divided the day into 12 shi instead of 24 small shi (小时xiǎoshí hours). Therefore, each shi would correspond to 2 modern hours. The hour of Xu would be around 19:00 or 20:00 or 7 or 8 PM.]
Li Zhi was about to call for maid to prepare a bath when the young servant girl, Xiaochun, hurried in, panic written all over her face.
“Miss! Miss! The Prince… the Prince Langya is here!”
Li Zhi froze, almost ready to ask in her heart: Who?
She still wasn’t used to equating Xie Lanxu with the title of Prince Langya, but whether he was Xie Lanxu or the Prince Langya, she had to admit that during these two hectic days when her feet hadn’t touched the ground, she hadn’t had much time to think about him.
She instructed Xiaochun to escort him to the wisteria gallery and quickly washed her face before heading over in a rush.
Just as Li Zhi arrived, Xie Lanxu entered the gallery under Xiaochun’s guidance. Jia Sui exchanged a glance with Xiaochun, and the two quietly retreated, leaving only the two of them.
As they drew closer to one another, Li Zhi broke into a radiant smile.
“Ah-Li!” she called out, quickening her steps to stand before him, her face alight with joy.
Xie Lanxu responded with a low murmur. Li Zhi could detect a faint scent of alcohol on him.
“You’ve been drinking?”
“A little,” Xie Lanxu replied. “At Xie Jingtan’s welcome banquet.”
Li Zhi paused, surprised. She had assumed Xie Lanxu would have declined the invitations just as she had.
Likewise, when Xie Lanxu learned of Li Zhi’s invitations, he found himself equally surprised.
“I didn’t receive an invitation from Princess He’an,” Xie Lanxu said. “Nor did anyone mention a flower-viewing banquet at today’s event.”
That was odd.
Both Prince Jing and Prince Feng were vying to form alliances. Xie Lanxu, being a promising figure, was a “prize” worth courting. If Li Zhi was invited simply because of her connection to him or Li Xiangsheng, how could it be that the “prize” himself hadn’t been given the option to attend?
Neither of them could answer this puzzling question, so they set it aside for now.
Seeing the slight haze of alcohol in his eyes, Li Zhi invited Xie Lanxu to the flower hall for some tea to sober him up.
“The flower hall?” Xie Lanxu raised an eyebrow, his displeasure plain to see.
“…The room next to mine,” Li Zhi clarified.
Both were orphans, their parents long gone. To call them such wasn’t far-fetched.
No one had ever been around to lecture them about the rules of propriety between men and women. Xie Lanxu walked into Li Zhi’s bedroom without hesitation and sat on her kang bed, as if he were at home.
In fact, Li Zhi thought, he seemed more at ease here than he would be in his own home.
After drinking some tea and sobering up, Xie Lanxu seemed to remember the purpose of his visit.
Those slightly intoxicated eyes glanced at her from the side as he said casually, “After the imperial commendations, Miss Li disappeared entirely. It seems you’ve been very busy.”
Li Zhi mumbled an indistinct response, deliberately avoiding his gaze.
“Ah-Li has been busy too, hasn’t he? Two whole days without sending even a word. If you don’t speak, how would I dare to seek you out?”
Inside, she was nervous. If Xie Lanxu refused to take the bait, she’d have no choice but to tug at his sleeve to appease him.
Fortunately, Xie Lanxu was increasingly indulgent toward her.
“If you want to find me, don’t you have plenty of ways to do so?” Xie Lanxu replied. His tone, however, no longer carried a hint of anger.
Taking the opportunity, Li Zhi changed the subject.
“You started your work at the Ministry of Justice today. Did anything happen? Did your subordinates show any defiance?”
“Everything was ordinary,” Xie Lanxu said, shaking his head. “The Minister of Justice is aligned with Prince Jing. Since Prince Jing wants to win me over, the staff there treated me with warmth.”
“Do you think the Emperor placed you in the Ministry of Justice to assist Prince Jing in his bid for the throne?” Li Zhi frowned.
“…It doesn’t seem that way,” Xie Lanxu said slowly. “Though Prince Jing seeks to ally with me, he’s still wary. Even as a Deputy Minister, the cases I’ve been assigned are uncontroversial. Beyond those, I only have access to closed cases.”
Li Zhi immediately grasped the crux of the matter.
The controversial cases—those with the potential to influence factional struggles—had all been carefully buried.
“Do you have any suspects?” she asked.
“I do,” Xie Lanxu replied. “A recently closed case: a husband’s murder.”
Li Zhi straightened, her expression growing serious as she watched Xie Lanxu dip his finger in tea and write a name on the table.
Zhu Jing.
“The victim, Zhu Jing, was the legitimate son of the current Minister of Rites, Zhu Qinghai,” Xie Lanxu explained.
“The suspect is Zhu Jing’s wife, Bai Xiuxiu.”
He wrote down the name Bai Xiuxiu next.
“Zhu Jing was born with congenital defects and has been mentally impaired since childhood. A year ago, Zhu Qinghai married him to a merchant’s daughter, Bai Xiuxiu. According to the Ministry of Justice’s investigation, Bai Xiuxiu despised Zhu Jing’s condition and had an affair with the mansion’s Tutor. To live freely with her lover, she allegedly murdered her husband.”
Li Zhi waited for him to continue.
“Such a straightforward case—from investigation to conclusion—was personally handled by the Minister of Justice, You Yigui,” Xie Lanxu said with a faint smile. “Don’t you think that’s… interesting?”
Silence fell over the room, broken only by the flickering candlelight.
“The political landscape in the capital is treacherous,” Xie Lanxu said, his tone more solemn. “The position of Crown Prince remains undecided, and both Prince Feng and Prince Jing are biding their time. I will act cautiously, but you must also tread carefully in the palace. If you encounter difficulties, send word to me.”
Xie Lanxu rarely comforted others, and even more rarely did he make promises.
Li Zhi didn’t know whether he would still stand by her if one day he learned the truth about her true purpose—her revenge.
But for now, she knew he was sincere.
She smiled genuinely as he reached out to caress her face, rubbing her cheek against his warm palm.
Like a puppy. Like a kitten. Like a small, defenseless creature offering its most vulnerable side to the one it trusted.
“Thank you, Ah-Li,” she said softly, her voice full of tenderness.
