Chapter 88: The Imperial Court
After Anzi returned to the palace, she selected a few boxes of pastries and brought them to Qi Zhaiyuan, who took them back to his own quarters. Just then, Noble Consort Wen arrived with her attendants to see her son.
Since her son had moved into the Alder Pavilion, Noble Consort Wen had visited eight times a day, a frequency she had never shown before. It was as if now that they were apart, she was desperate to make up for all the missing motherly love in one go. Fortunately, the Alder Pavilion was spacious: Anzi resided in the main hall, while her younger brother stayed in a side wing, sparing her further meetings with Noble Consort Wen.
Perhaps the shadows of childhood trauma ran too deep, for Qi Zhaiyuan would instantly freeze into a wooden state whenever he saw his mother. The Noble Consort sat at the table, speaking at length, while her son, oblivious, continued to play with his Kongming lock. Her temper flared; she walked over and tapped his head. “I’m talking to you—did you hear me?”
Qi Zhaiyuan stared at her with wide, round eyes. The Noble Consort grew even angrier; the child seemed to have no bond with her at all, not the least bit affectionate, always staring at her so blankly. Like a little fool. She couldn’t help but admit, her son and Anzi were truly different. Since Anzi’s return this past year, even the most fickle courtiers had begun to lean toward him. Compared to the relatively unknown Second Prince, the frequently seen First Prince appeared elegant and exceptionally gifted.
“Why are you staring at me? I asked you a question—”
“What are you arguing about with the child again?” Nurse Wen returned to find that the Noble Consort was at odds with the Second Prince once more. “You’re his mother—why can’t you just talk to him kindly?” Nurse Wen was exhausted. The child had already lost ground by being separated from his mother, and instead of working to win back his affections, the Noble Consort only seemed to make things worse. Nurse Wen regretted her earlier high opinion; she had thought the Noble Consort clever, but years in the palace had only made her more like a resentful woman shut away from the world, lacking any sense of strategy.
“Nurse, why are you only blaming me? It’s not just me—this child—” The Noble Consort felt wronged. She had always been the one coddled as a child; now she was expected to coax a child herself, but how could she know how?
“He’s still young. What if you frighten him?” Nurse Wen knelt down to speak to Qi Zhaiyuan. “I heard you went out to play with the First Prince today. Can you tell Nurse where you went?”
Nurse Wen had always treated him well, stern at times but never unkind. Qi Zhaiyuan was much more willing to speak to her than to his mother. “My brother took me out to play.”
“Where did you go?” Nurse Wen asked casually.
“Outside.” Qi Zhaiyuan had never left the palace before and didn’t know how to describe it.
Did they go outside the palace? She glanced at the pastries on his table; they didn’t seem to be from the capital. “These pastries…”
“My brother gave them to me.” Qi Zhaiyuan looked at the pastries, then at the nurse. He didn’t have many, but he wasn’t a stingy child; he offered one to her. “For you.” He glanced at the Noble Consort, too, and carefully pushed one toward her.
The Noble Consort didn’t even look at it; she wouldn’t touch such suspicious things. Qi Zhaiyuan quietly put the pastry away, tucking it carefully into the box.
Not wanting to deepen the rift between mother and son, Nurse Wen changed the subject. “Did you study today, Your Highness? The Emperor might quiz you later—be sure you’re prepared.”
Qi Zhaiyuan remembered he hadn’t read yet today, so he pulled out his book and began to study. He was extremely focused, always doing one thing at a time. Since he was reading, Nurse Wen no longer spoke to him. She gathered the palace attendants and questioned them nearby. “Where did the Second Prince go this afternoon?”
“We don’t know, ma’am.”
“Weren’t you following him? How could you not know?”
“We only followed as far as a teahouse. Then Steward Wei told us to wait inside. The First Prince took the Second Prince out alone.”
“Fools! Why didn’t you insist on following?”
“We wanted to, but Steward Wei stopped us. You know he’s personally assigned by the Emperor to the First Prince—so arrogant and strict, no one dares disobey him.”
Nurse Wen narrowed her eyes. “Next time they go out, send word to me at once.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Take good care of the Second Prince. Don’t be so stiff—mention the Noble Consort to him often. No grudge between mother and son lasts overnight.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Though the Second Prince rarely listened.
His temperament was truly worrisome. He didn’t throw tantrums or act mischievous like other children. When unhappy, he just fell silent, ignoring anyone who spoke to him. It was hard to tell if he even heard.
Nurse Wen worried in her heart. If only she hadn’t administered such a strong dose of medicine back then; who would have thought that would lead to this child’s conception? It felt like bitter retribution. It would be difficult to help this child rise. Still, the Marquis had said that an obedient puppet is better than a clever child—perhaps that would prove true.
The next day, Gan Sui entered the palace to report for duty, reuniting with the Emperor after several years. Qi Nanxing dismissed his attendants and began to converse with Gan Sui.
“Yesterday Anzi brought back some pastries, said you brought them from Yangzhou. I found them quite good—thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
“My wife prepared them. She’s always loved good food and enjoys sharing it with others.”
“I’ve heard you mention her before—a rare woman in this world. You are a fortunate man, my brother.”
“Your Majesty flatters me, but she truly is a wonderful person.” Gan Sui smiled at the mention, but Qi Nanxing felt a pang of sorrow. He too wished he could show off the woman he loved before others, but she was no longer there.
“Your Majesty’s health seems worse than before. State affairs are important, but your well-being is even more so—please take care of yourself.”
“Perhaps it’s just the change of seasons—I’ve been feeling weak and tired. The imperial physicians have examined me, but found nothing serious. It should pass soon. You start attending court tomorrow; you may find it a bit unfamiliar.”
“It will take some adjusting at first, but I’ll get used to it.”
They discussed the salt taxes of the two Huai provinces. Around mid-morning, Qi Nanxing finally allowed Gan Sui to leave the palace and report to the Ministry of Personnel to collect his official robes and complete the necessary formalities.
By chance, as Gan Sui was leaving, he encountered Marquis Wen just as he was exiting the palace. Years ago, Gan Sui had glimpsed this man from afar—imposing and full of vigor. Now, his temples were streaked with gray, but his eyes still flashed with energy.
Since they’d met, it would be rude not to greet him. Gan Sui stepped forward. “Your humble servant, Gan Sui, pays respects to the Marquis.”
Marquis Wen gazed at this young man who had killed his nephew and ruined many of his schemes. He wished nothing more than to tear him apart, but his face remained calm, even managing to feign benevolence. “So this is the top scholar of the year, the great hero who brought the Huai salt tax into the national treasury—so young, truly a prodigy. You make the rest of us feel our age.”
Before Gan Sui could reply, one of the Marquis’s attendants started to flatter him. “How could you call yourself old, my lord? You’re in your prime!”
Gan Sui did not respond to the flattery.
The Marquis asked, “I hear His Majesty has appointed you as Imperial Tutor to the princes. That’s a critical post—the future of our Liang kingdom depends on it. You mustn’t take it lightly.”
“I understand, my lord. I will do my utmost.”
“Good, that’s how a scholar should be. You haven’t visited my humble abode since returning from Yangzhou, have you? If you don’t mind, I’d love to discuss state affairs with a promising young man like yourself.”
“I’ll be sure to visit when I have time.”
“Well, it’s getting late. You still need to report to the Ministry of Personnel. Off you go, then.”
“Farewell, my lord.”
Those destined to be enemies can never truly become friends, no matter how cordial the surface.
Gan Sui’s new official robes were a deep maroon, like something a man of fifty might wear. But then, imperial tutors were usually old scholars. Gan Sui, with his fair skin, looked even more striking in red, his lips bright and teeth gleaming. Banxia teased him, “Where did this pretty boy come from? Come here, let your sister give you a kiss.”
Gan Sui played along. “Sister, is that really appropriate? I’m still so young.”
“That’s exactly why you need to learn—come, let me have a taste.” She leaned in and planted a fierce kiss on his cheek, beaming with delight. “So soft!”
Gan Sui let his inner actor loose, pretending to resist and entice at once. “Sister, is a kiss on the cheek enough for you? Other places are even more delicious!”
“Other places… mmph!” Shameless rogue!
On his first day in official robes, Imperial Tutor Gan experienced the seductive charm of a uniform and decided this was an activity he and his wife should indulge in more often.
The next day, while Banxia cursed him as a beast, rubbing her aching waist, he was already standing tall in his new robes at the heart of Liang’s power.
Civil and military officials lined up on either side, the Emperor seated high above. The beads of his crown veil obscured his face, lending him an even more inscrutable air.
The civil ministers stood behind Marquis Wen, the military behind Lin Tianyu—two opposing camps divided by a chasm. The court was bustling; Gan Sui’s transfer and the appointment of the new Yangzhou prefect triggered fierce debate, with each faction pushing their own candidate. The grand hall buzzed like a marketplace.
As a newcomer, Gan Sui played the humble novice to perfection, saying nothing throughout his first court session except to join in the acclamations.
Marquis Wen’s faction put forth two candidates, both rejected by the Emperor for lack of virtue—reasons based on private scandals, yet the Emperor knew every detail. Marquis Wen’s dread deepened; if the Emperor knew so much, he could be next. Displaying such power without mercy, the Emperor made Marquis Wen increasingly uneasy. He began to prepare—he and the Emperor were now locked in a struggle for survival. If he didn’t act first, or if the secret medicine didn’t take effect before the Emperor moved against him, he’d lose everything.
He had few pawns left, but plenty of money—enough to find those willing to risk their lives for it. Standing in the court, head lowered, he let slip a cold, sinister smile amidst the chorus of loyal acclamations.