Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Not long after the marriage was granted, the imperial grandaunt banished Li Longji’s maternal grandfather and his family.

The Dòu family of Fufeng, that great clan which had stood shoulder to shoulder with Gaozu since the founding of the Li Tang, now withered and fell; for the Crown Prince there was no longer any faction to lean on. The imperial edict granting the marriage to the Wu family, the suppression by the Dòu household, every move had been calculated to encroach and eat away at them—who now would dare openly speak for the Lis?

Could it be that they truly intended to wipe them out completely?

In the third year of Changshou, his uncle Wu Chengsi received the exalted title “Yuegu Jinlun Shengshen Emperor,” the imperial grandaunt pardoned the realm, and the era name was changed to Yanzai.

The following year, the imperial grandaunt further conferred the title “Cishi Yuegu Jinlun Shengshen Emperor,” pardoned the realm again, and the era name was changed to Zhengsheng.

Lantern Festival—lanterns hung, streets decorated, three days of revelry.

On the first day, the emperor’s aunt visited the Ming Hall, accompanied by all the imperial grandchildren and court officials. By the sixteenth day of the first month, Yixi simply couldn’t contain herself—she insisted on going out to see the lanterns. I couldn’t bear her nagging, so after supper we left the princely residence. She chattered nonstop along the way; her excitement rubbed off on me. We walked through the busy market and headed straight for Tianjin Bridge.

When we reached under Tianjin Bridge, she fixated on a particular lantern. Seeing how much she liked it, I went over to take a closer look.

The stall owner lit up when he saw us approach and grinned, asking, “Miss, want to buy a lantern?” I nodded and said to Yixi, “Take it—look how she’s staring, she’s making people here too shy to sell.” Yixi didn’t bother with formalities and winked, “Thank you, Miss.” She really was a good girl—she knew how to use different forms of address in public.

When she lifted the lantern, the stallkeeper suddenly said, “Miss, you weren’t here yesterday?” I shook my head. He went on, “Last night on the Tianjin Bridge they hung a Buddhist banner nearly two hundred chi high, painted with fresh blood — it’s been called a sight in Luoyang these past years.” I smiled and said, “I’ve heard. They say it was painted with human blood.” He snorted softly and said, “Do you really believe that? Even if Abbot Xue of Baima Temple drained himself dry, he couldn’t have painted that whole piece.”

Those were the words Xue Huaiyi had spoken to curry favor with the imperial grandaunt; today they were the butt of jokes among my uncles. They said the emperor now doted on Physician Shen so greatly that no matter what Xue Huaiyi did, he couldn’t win such favor.

I said, “Even if it’s a lie, it’s still Abbot Xue’s loyalty.” The stallkeeper scratched his head, seemingly eager to tell me some market gossip about favorites vying for affection. I was just looking for an excuse to cut the conversation short when a hand lightly pressed my shoulder: “True loyalty can be seen, heartfelt and sincere,” before the tone had fallen, the person behind tossed some copper coins onto the board and said, “That lotus lantern, I’ll take it too.”

I recognized the voice and turned. There stood Li Longji, his eyes curved like crescents, shining all with amusement.

“Why are you out?” I asked instinctively.

Li Longji narrowed his eyes at me and said softly, “I thought you’d say, ‘Husband, what a coincidence.'” My heart sank, but I could only smile at him. “Don’t be silly, I don’t believe in coincidences like that.” Li Longji took the lantern and handed it to me. “It’s not a coincidence. Big Brother and Second Brother have been following you all the way.”

Following his words, I looked up and saw Li Chengqi and Li Chengyi standing not far behind him. Li Chengqi merely smiled at us, while Li Chengyi stared at me with some displeasure.

After the marriage was granted, Father seemed to have foreseen last year’s upheaval, and he found an early excuse to take me out of the palace to avoid that turmoil involving the Dou family of Fufeng. At the same time, the Prince of Heng’an’s residence moved from Chang’an to Luoyang, fulfilling one of my mother’s wishes to settle in Luoyang. Two years passed in a flash; the various princes of the Eastern Palace were placed under house arrest, and I, remaining in the Prince of Heng’an’s residence, had not seen them since.

I froze for a moment, then hurriedly looked away and said to Li Longji, “Why are you following me?” Li Longji smiled without answering, stepped back two paces and looked me over, nodding repeatedly, “Narrow-sleeved robe, soft cotton boots — this Hu-style outfit suits you very well.” I held the lotus lantern and could only let him appraise me; Yixi at my side had already gone dumbstruck.

Li Longji turned to Li Chengqi and said, “Big brother, my little madam is getting more beautiful by the day.” Li Chengqi didn’t reply, but Li Chengyi stepped forward two paces, patted his shoulder and said, “My second brother has taken a concubine, you have a marriage arranged, and big brother is still alone — how can you say that?”

I ignored him and turned to Yixi, “These gentlemen are the Crown Prince and the princes.” Since she left the palace with me she hadn’t yet had the chance to meet them; when she heard this she jumped in fright, almost dropping the lantern, and after a long moment said, “No wonder standing there makes them seem different from the others.”

I was about to speak again when I felt my wrist tighten — Li Longji had grabbed me and pulled me forward, saying, “Your husband will accompany you to the Lantern Festival.” My heart felt as though someone had stabbed it; I hastily pushed his hand away and said, “How old are you? How can you be so casual about this?” He stopped, looked at me and smiled: “Yongan, I am already past twelve. Wait two more years and I’ll marry you.”

His words made me feel miserable. I glanced past Li Chengqi’s unchanged faint smile and finally said, “Let go first.”

He turned, stepped forward until he was very close, and said seriously, “Yongan, are you worried my maternal line is dying out and that you’ll have no support in the future?” I jumped, took half a step back, and was about to say something when he suddenly smiled, dazzlingly bright. “Just kidding. Back then when I was near death, didn’t you go to see me? I wouldn’t think so little of you.”

He tossed me about so much that I was dazed for a while before finally realizing he had been joking.

But the joke was a harsh reality.

I didn’t dare say anything more, just took a couple quick steps and said to Li Chengqi, “Your Highness.” Li Chengqi looked at me kindly and replied, “Princess.” Two simple words, and he didn’t add anything else. I turned to Li Chengyi and asked, “Is Yiping doing well with you?” Li Chengyi raised an eyebrow and said, “I promised you then. I’ll take good care of her. Why doesn’t the Princess trust me?”

I nodded and lowered my eyes, staring at the lantern in my hands, at a loss for what else to say.

After a while, Li Longji cleared his throat and said, “I was wrong. Stop sulking.” I looked at him dumbly and said, “When did I ever sulk at you?” He pulled his face down, his brows and eyes tinged with a touch of melancholy. “The Lantern Festival was supposed to be a joyful time. Seeing this expression on your face ruins it for me too.”

He made me laugh; still a big kid, still unchanged.

They chatted off and on for a while before Li Longji finally pulled out the boy who had stood silently to one side and said, “Thanks to my cousin, Aunt finally persuaded the Empress Dowager to let us go out for a walk.” I looked at the youth whose brows and eyes resembled Taiping somewhat, the one with a strong scholarly air, and realized, “Duke of Ying.” Taiping Princess’s most beloved son, Xue Chongjian—who would have thought he was so close with Li Longji.

He flushed, nodded quickly, and said, “Third Sister-in-law.” I paused for a moment and made no reply.

Because the street was crowded, we took the opportunity to slip into a teahouse. Inside it was extremely noisy and already packed.

Seeing there were no seats, Li Longji was about to turn and leave when someone on the second floor stuck their head out and called loudly, “Brother Li.” The man’s eyes crinkled into a slit of a smile — it was Zhang Jiuling, whom we’d seen at the Imperial Academy.

When he called out like that, everyone’s expressions changed. My heart thudded as I glanced at Li Chengqi. He only smiled and nodded to Zhang Jiuling, saying, “Is that seat of yours empty?” Zhang Jiuling toyed with his teacup and replied, “Of course. I specifically requested a window seat to see if there’s any more entertainment today.”

This man really had no tact. I lowered my head, doing my best to keep him from noticing so he wouldn’t say anything troublesome.

It wasn’t until they went upstairs and sat down that Zhang Jiuling glanced my way and composed himself: “The Commandery Princess is here as well.” I pursed my lips and smiled slightly: “At the National Academy that time, it had been three years since we’d last seen each other.” Li Longji looked at me, then at him, and suddenly caught on, reciting slowly: “Plants have their true nature; why beg a beauty to pluck them?”

Zhang Jiuling was not displeased; he smiled with narrowed eyes and nodded: “That line will likely stick with me for the rest of my days.” Li Longji nodded and said, “My little wife once praised you as an extraordinary man—I didn’t expect I’d have the fortune to meet you today.” Zhang Jiuling cast a glance at me and repeated, “Little wife?”

Li Longji gave me a sidelong look and said, “Here, aside from the Commandery Princess, there shouldn’t be anyone else who has met Lord Zhang.” Zhang Jiuling fell silent for a moment, then smiled: “Indeed.”

Somehow, the room had grown quiet. Everyone held their teacups, no one spoke.

I looked down; the Tientsin Bridge below was a carpet of lights, utterly beautiful.

After a while, Li Chengqi spoke, asking Zhang Jiuling about last year’s imperial exams. Only then did Zhang Jiuling smile and say he had stayed in Luoyang waiting for the day the results were posted. Getting carried away, he pulled a copper coin from his sleeve and tossed it onto the table, laughing, “I bet I’ll surely make the honor roll.”

At once the others grew lively, each fishing out a few copper coins and flinging them onto the table, all betting on the same side. Zhang Jiuling looked at the pile of coins, holding his cup, “There’s no way to cover this — everyone’s backing the same side. It seems the princes are rather fond of me.” Li Longji, hearing him, smiled and said, “You’ve all put your money up — it’s bad form to take it back, isn’t it?” After he spoke, he glanced at his eldest brother.

Li Chengqi smiled calmly and said, “How about this: each of us adds a bowl of yuanxiao, so we can all celebrate the festival together.” When he finished speaking, he glanced over the others indifferently.

Li Longji clapped his hands, called over the shopkeeper, and specially requested six different flavors. In just a moment six bowls of yuanxiao that looked much the same were brought out, steaming hot, and the sight of them warmed everyone’s hearts. The shopkeeper, seeming to recognize these people were no ordinary customers, stood to one side and explained each in detail, especially pointing at one bowl and saying, “This is a secret recipe from the south, slowly cooked with turbid wine.”

Li Longji listened patiently; at that line he finally reached out, picked up the porcelain bowl, and placed it in front of me, saying, “When something so rare appears, the lady should naturally taste it first.” I froze for a moment, wanting to say something, but it would have been awkward to refuse him outright.

While I hesitated, Li Chengqi cast a casual glance my way and said, “A young lady shouldn’t be drinking wine at will.” Li Longji paused, then nodded, “Big brother is right.” After speaking, he turned and pushed the bowl back in front of himself.

I covered the teacup with my hand and smiled at him. So he remembered.

Just as Li Longji was about to fetch me another bowl, a sudden clamor rose from beneath the bridge; Tianjin Bridge was thrown into chaos. From the direction of the Ming Tang, flames leapt into the sky, a sea of crimson flooding and piercing the entire night.