Chapter Eighty-One: No Regrets

Anzi looked up to see a regal beauty in palace attire glaring at him with wrathful eyes. Behind her, a crowd of eunuchs and court maids dropped to their knees at once. “Wishing Your Grace, the Noble Consort, peace and fortune.”

So, here it was—the fabled Noble Consort in person.

Since Anzi’s return to the palace, he had never once laid eyes on this lady. Partly, it was because he was older and wished to avoid scandal; partly, he truly didn’t know what attitude to assume toward her. Qinan Xing had never expressed any intention for him to meet her, either. And so, for various reasons, their first encounter unfolded in this awkward fashion.

“Blessings be upon Your Grace, Noble Consort,” Anzi offered a respectful bow.

“I have heard tell that the eldest prince, having wandered among commoners, has even acquired their malicious temperament. You have only just returned, and already cannot tolerate your younger brother, taking him to such heights. That was before the eyes of all—what if no one had seen? What would have become of my poor child?” As she spoke, she stepped forward, intent on taking Qizhai Yuan into her arms.

Yet the boy was never close to her. When her mood soured, she would often vent her anger on him. As a result, the child shrank away, hiding behind Anzi.

“Why are you hiding? I am your mother! Come here at once!” The Noble Consort’s voice grew shrill with urgency, her features twisting with anger. Frightened, Qizhai Yuan burst into tears, clinging to Anzi’s sleeve and refusing to let go.

“Your Grace, you’ve frightened him,” Anzi said, lifting the child into his arms. “There, there, don’t cry. It’s all right.”

The Noble Consort, incensed, reached to snatch her son away, but Anzi quickly retreated several steps.

“What is Your Grace intending to do?” he asked.

“Am I not allowed to discipline my own son? Or does the eldest prince wish to interfere?” she snapped.

“You may discipline your own child, and I would not object. But you must remember—he is also a prince of Liang, the very foundation of our nation. Though you are his mother, you have no right to treat him with arbitrary harshness.”

“It seems the eldest prince has spent so long outside the palace that he no longer understands its rules. Since your own mother is gone, and I was once her friend and sister, I shall take it upon myself to discipline you in her stead. Attendants!”

“At your command!”

“The eldest prince has disregarded palace rules and defied his elders. Seize him at once.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The group behind the Noble Consort moved forward.

Anzi calculated whether he could break through the crowd while holding Qizhai Yuan when suddenly, Grand Eunuch Wan’s voice rang out, “His Majesty approaches!”

Anzi exhaled in relief.

“What is all this commotion?” the Emperor demanded as he entered.

“Your Majesty, you must defend me! The eldest prince has shown flagrant disrespect and seeks to harm me and my son!” the Noble Consort wailed.

“Speak plainly, no shouting. Anzi, what happened here?”

“My younger brother’s cat had climbed a tree,” Anzi explained, “so I flew up and fetched it. My second brother found it amusing to see me fly, and asked me to take him up as well. I didn’t go high—just leapt onto some rocks. As I came down, the Noble Consort saw us…”

“The eldest prince makes it sound so simple! Who knows if you had ill intentions, deliberately taking your little brother so high? He is still so young—what if he had been frightened?”

Anzi had little experience with women, and even less with unreasonable ones; he found her behavior curiously astonishing.

“If Your Grace does not trust my words, surely you can trust Second Brother’s? Why not ask him yourself?”

The Noble Consort knelt before her son. “Don’t be afraid, my child. Mother is here. Tell me—did your brother scare you on purpose?”

Qizhai Yuan looked at her timidly, then shook his head. The Noble Consort flung his hand aside. “You must be too frightened to speak! Tell the truth—did your brother do something to you?”

“No… Eldest Brother didn’t scare me. He took me flying… Mother was scary…” The child burst into tears.

“You…” The Noble Consort reached to seize him, but Qinan Xing stepped between them.

“That is enough. I never expected you to treat Anzi kindly, but must you be thus with your own son?”

“So Your Majesty remembers he is my child? He isn’t mine alone—he’s your son as well. And as his father, you have hardly seen him all these eight years. Since he means so little to you, his upbringing is naturally my affair.”

“If you feel I have failed in my duty as a father, then I shall now send him to the Purple Dawn Hall for my personal care. Attend me! The Noble Consort is to forfeit half a month’s salary for her misconduct before the Emperor, and remain confined to her quarters for reflection until further notice.”

“Your Majesty!”

“Do not forget, Noble Consort, that my word is imperial edict. Would you defy it?”

“I receive your decree,” she replied, resentment in her eyes but compelled to obey.

Madam Wen happened to be away from the palace that day; upon her return, she learned of these events.

“How could Your Grace allow His Majesty to take away the Second Prince?” The news struck like a thunderclap. She had just been in consultation with Lord Wen about how to deal with Anzi, yet before they could act, their most vital piece had been snatched by the opposition. “Your Grace, do you not understand? The Second Prince is our greatest support for the future. Had you shown more concern for him, today’s situation would never have come to pass.”

“But you always took care of the child, Madam Wen. You are so reliable—how could I not feel at ease letting him be with you?”

“It was my mistake. I always thought he was still young… Never mind, when he returns, we can still raise him properly. Nothing matters more than the Wen family’s prosperity.”

Though it was said the boy was sent to the Purple Dawn Hall, Qinan Xing, seeing the two brothers getting along, simply let Qizhai Yuan stay in Alder Pavilion.

Alder Pavilion had many rooms, and Anzi arranged for his brother to live in a side chamber. Yet Qizhai Yuan soon became a little shadow, trailing after Anzi wherever he went.

“Brother needs to study now. Go play by yourself,” Anzi told him.

“I want to study too…” Qizhai Yuan mimicked Anzi’s posture, sitting properly at the desk.

Fearing he would be bored, Anzi found him some short stories to read.

Perhaps because he had always been strictly disciplined, Qizhai Yuan sat quietly by, not disturbing Anzi, absorbed in the stories. Thus, the two brothers, meeting for the first time, found a natural bond in their shared blood.

Soon, the first chill of winter approached.

All seemed well in Yangzhou.

Yet Liu Youcai felt a growing sense of unease. He had tried several times to send beautiful women—some refined and skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting; some alluring and seductive at a glance; and others seemingly ordinary yet captivating upon closer inspection. None could catch the eye of Lord Governor. Hints and suggestions were all deftly deflected, as were the gifts of silver, which he never so much as accepted.

Liu Youcai concluded that Gansu was a most unusual man. He was not stubbornly incorruptible, for he maintained various connections and would sometimes turn a blind eye to minor matters. Yet these never crossed his principles; if anything threatened the people’s welfare, he would not hesitate to act.

Such a man thrived in both the bureaucratic world and the salt trade. The salt commissioner and the textile commissioner were at odds, yet Gansu maintained a perfect balance, offending neither side. This delicate equilibrium left Liu Youcai anxious, for nothing was more perilous in officialdom than not understanding the temperament of one in power. If you couldn’t get a read on him, you might be caught off guard and lose everything—a fate to be avoided at all costs.

He instructed the salt merchants to exercise utmost caution. With a new official comes stringent measures, and if a single misstep exposed them all, none would escape unscathed.

Thus, under these repeated warnings, the salt price at year’s end rose only slightly, unlike the wild surges of previous years. The people praised the new governor’s methods.

As the New Year approached, Anzi sent home many gifts for the festival—not expensive items, but food and toys. His letters, as usual, contained only good news.

Yangzhou’s winter was damp and cold, with sleet and rain. In such weather, Bansummer refused to leave her room, preferring to watch the two children practice walking.

Yuhai was lively and strong-boned; he could stand on his own for a short while. Liuguang, on the other hand, had shown little enthusiasm for crawling and was even less willing to walk, preferring to lounge idly. Bansummer would not indulge such laziness and, whenever she had time, would firmly guide her daughter in practicing her steps.

The chubby little girl would scrunch up her bun-like face in annoyance as she kicked her legs—so adorable it was impossible not to smile.

Gansu returned, braving the snow and wind. As he stepped inside, he brought with him a blast of chill. “Come in quickly—it’s freezing out there.”

He warmed himself by the stove, then scooped up his sulky daughter. “You’re making her practice again? She’s still little; her bones aren’t yet strong. What harm is there if she learns to walk a bit later?” He kissed his daughter’s cheek, only to be pushed away by her chubby hand. Unbothered, he kissed her palm instead, his bristly beard tickling her. Liuguang quickly drew her hand away.

“See? Your daughter’s already tired of you,” Bansummer laughed.

“Baby, do you dislike Daddy?” Gansu, a grown man, feigned a wife’s wounded pout.

Liuguang hesitated, then pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Yuhai, seeing them together, ran over to join them. “Kiss… kiss…” He slobbered a wet kiss on Gansu’s face.

Father and children tumbled together in laughter.

Once they had finished playing, Bansummer asked the nurse to take the children to wash up. As she helped Gansu change his clothes, she said, “A letter came from Anzi today. He says his little brother is now living with him.”

“The son of the Noble Consort?”

“Yes. He mentioned the child is rather pitiful, raised entirely by servants and quite timid. Now that the Noble Consort is confined, His Majesty has arranged for the two brothers to live together. I think it’s for the best—if the struggle for the throne can be resolved without bloodshed, so much the better. The Emperor, having them live together, surely hopes for this outcome as well. No matter the grudges of the past generation, the children are innocent.”

“But this is only temporary. The Wen family will never willingly loosen their grip on the boy. All the brotherly affection they cultivate now might shatter in the future for the sake of power—will they regret their choices then?”

“The best outcome is never to reach that point. But even if they do, I think they won’t regret what they have now.”