Ye Jiao... the girl as free as the wind through Chang'an City; the very maiden who once vowed to roam the world wielding her sword, a wandering knight-errant; a single blossom flourishing amid the bustling, prosperous streets. When did they come to know his Achilles' heel, intent on hanging that girl upon hooks forged from their lust and greed, luring him to act?
"You desire Ye Jiao?" Yan Congzheng retorted.
"Isn't that so?" The advisor held his breath.
Isn't it? The truth was plain as day. His confession had been rejected, yet no matter how carefully Yan Congzheng concealed it, his gaze always settled upon her. Among millions, whenever she appeared, all others vanished from his sight. Denial was futile—none would believe it. So he spoke openly, baring his heart.
Yan Congzheng fixed his piercing eyes on the advisor. Though standing alone at the palace gate, his presence rivaled that of a commander before an imperial army—armored and resolute, spearpoints sharp and unwavering, tens of thousands of soldiers unstoppable in their advance.
"I do not merely desire her," Yan Congzheng declared. "I love her—to the extent that anyone who dares lay a hand on her shall face my unyielding wrath. Therefore, all present, I implore you to know who she is. Keep your filthy hands away from the hem of her garment. Moreover—" His cold smile sent shivers down the advisor's spine. "How I claim her shall not concern you."
With those words, Yan Congzheng strode away.
The advisor pointed at his retreating figure, stammering countless "you"s before falling into silence. An awkward stillness blanketed the hall; no one dared break it.
Those with some sense of integrity were shaken by Yan Congzheng's words, then overwhelmed with guilt. Yet most worried his defiance might jeopardize Prince Wei's bid for succession.
Prince Wei, Li Chen, smiled lightly. "Do not be angered," he soothed. "Congzheng is always like this. I have known him for ten years; he never changes."
The advisors relaxed somewhat. One dryly remarked, "But his disrespect towards Your Highness is too great."
"He owes no respect to me," Li Chen replied, stepping forward to pour wine for the advisor. "Only to the Emperor. The Emperor trusts him, seeing him as a solitary minister who swears no allegiance to factions, which benefits us."
The assembled advisors understood this well. They raised their cups with a shared toast, "His Highness Prince Wei possesses a heart vast as the sea. We admire him."
Li Chen sipped his wine but then paused, seemingly lost in thought. Standing still, he instructed softly, "Deputy Commander Yan is stubborn. Do not mention Ye Jiao again."
"Yes, Your Highness," the advisors responded in unison.
The mention of Ye Jiao had been a calculated test all along.
Li Chen slowly returned to his place, murmuring reflectively, "He truly loves her."
Though chastised, the truth unearthed was worth the price. Yet compared to the supreme throne, loving someone was but a matter as light as dust.
"If only Li Zhang loved her too," Li Chen shook his head with a smile, dismissing the notion as absurd. How could that ever be?
The Emperor's ancestral altar, the Circular Mound Altar, lay south of Chang'an City, not far east from the main gate, Mingde Gate. If Ye Jiao happened to be on duty there, Li Ce, leaving the city, would see her radiant, warm face—or perhaps a solemn one. She was earnest in her duties, often so absorbed she scarcely noticed Li Ce's carriage. Today was no exception.
Qingfeng, the attendant, strained his neck in vain; Ye Jiao had yet to arrive for inspection. He sighed, flicked his whip, and urged the carriage onward.
"Your Highness," Qingfeng voiced his concern, "that Bai Xianyu seems to have designs on Captain Wu Hou. I sense Wu Hou is so busy he barely pays attention to you."
Three times passing by, twice Bai Xianyu was seen flattering Ye Jiao—offering food or holding her handwarmer with unsettling attentiveness.
Li Ce retracted his gaze behind the carriage curtain, smiling, "Don't worry, he wouldn't dare."
"That remains to be seen," Qingfeng muttered. "The deaf fear no thunder, and Captain Bai is recklessly bold."
Bai Xianyu sneezed repeatedly, rubbed his aching nose, glanced around with displeasure, "Who's speaking about me?"
"No one," Ye Jiao said as she approached, holding a register, handing it to a junior Wu Hou. "This is yesterday's record. Deliver it to Jingzhao Prefecture."
Every day, Chang'an's thirteen gates saw countless entries and exits—identities noted, foreigners counted, goods tracked, sources recorded. Through these logs, Jingzhao accurately estimated the population, foreign affairs, and goods stock of Tang's capital. Maintaining a city's smooth operation required meticulous attention to countless details.
"I'll deliver it," Bai Xianyu took the register from the junior Wu Hou. "I also need to find Prefect Liu; with the New Year near, perhaps we'll get a raise."
Seeing his enthusiasm, Ye Jiao let him go.
Bai Xianyu mounted, perused the register carefully en route to Jingzhao Prefecture. Liu Yan was absent, so he handed it to the chief clerk and considered his task complete.
On other days, he might have gone to gamble, win or lose, at least finding some carefree joy. But not anymore.
He rubbed the horse's mane, head held high with lofty ambition. His parents said their only son need only find a place to settle comfortably. But he would no longer live as a drifter. He must seize opportunity, achieve great deeds, make his father, who commanded the army in Jiannan Circuit, proud; and provide lasting support for his sister, a favored consort in the palace.
By then, Prince Wei Li Chen had already arrived. Standing beside the rammed-earth workers, he coughed from dust. The Circular Mound Altar's firm soil platform topped with stone steps required thousands of tamping blows for stability. The newly repaired path was the southern stairway the Emperor would ascend.
Spotting Li Ce, Li Chen strode over with ritual officials.
"Prince Chu has arrived!" Li Chen showed concern. "If you fear the cold, you need not have come."
"The Emperor's orders," Li Ce replied, "I dare not neglect them."
Li Chen smiled awkwardly. "Indeed. But the Ministry of Rites is thorough; our presence offers little help."
The official from the Ministry of Rites accepted the compliment politely before hastening to oversee the work.
Li Chen tightened his rabbit-fur collar and added, "Where shall we dine? This place is far from the market. Your Fourth Sister-in-Law will bring food shortly. You will join her."
"Many thanks, Prince Wei," Li Ce replied, "but our household will send the meal."
Only then did he recall he had made no arrangements with Li Jing nor the Zhao Mansion steward.
Qingfeng immediately noticed the oversight and stepped back, ready to rush for food.
At that moment, the Princess Consort of Wei arrived. Sitting in the carriage, she lifted the curtain, revealing half her face but did not dismount, softly calling, "Your Highness Prince Wei."
From the second carriage, several maids emerged carrying meal boxes, placing them in a temporary pavilion erected by the Ministry of Rites officials, then withdrew in sequence.
"Let's go," Li Chen, seeing Li Ce unattended, smiled warmly, "and taste your sister-in-law's cooking."
He strode ahead into the pavilion. Li Ce turned to Qingfeng.
"If I don't eat this, what else can I eat?"
"Of course, with the officials and workers from the Ministry of Rites."
"How do they eat?"
Qingfeng pointed to a towering pile of unwashed porcelain bowls. "Get your bowl here..." Then to a steaming cauldron not far off, "queue there to serve yourself rice."
Li Ce sighed softly.
It was futile. Qingfeng discerned his reluctance to eat with Li Chen and cautiously offered, "Shall I queue for Your Highness first?"
Li Ce wished to kick him. It was not a matter of willingness but envy—others had food secretly brought when guarding the Empress Dowager; he had none.
"Prince Chu, come quickly! The dishes are sumptuous! Surely you won't squeeze in with the craftsmen?"
Wei Wang's voice called from within the pavilion.
Li Ce lowered his head and stepped inside.
At that moment, the sound of horse hooves rang out—each strike upon the ground clear and resonant, like silver bells chiming from the heavens...