Li Ce's garment bore the lingering scent of medicinal herbs from the Purple Palace. Anxious and troubled, his inner robe had once been soaked through, now slowly drying. Within a single day, he had endured a tumultuous storm of fear and uncertainty, and now, exhaustion weighed heavily upon him. The weary soul longs above all for the solace of home. That solitary red lantern, the figure bearing it, the shadow standing guard in the cold night — these were the warmest comforts of his heart.
"Jiao Jiao," Li Ce's voice was hoarse as he stepped forward to take the lantern, "I shall escort you back to the Duke's residence first."
"Very well," she replied, walking side by side with him. Ye Jiao said, "I forgot to tell you, tomorrow I must report to the Ministry of War."
"I was going to tell you as well," Li Ce said softly, "At tomorrow's morning court, I will serve in the Purple Palace, assisting His Highness the Crown Prince in governing the realm."
Ye Jiao halted, a flicker of doubt clouding her bright eyes. "His Highness the Crown Prince?"
Holding the lantern in his left hand, Li Ce grasped Ye Jiao's hand with his right and said solemnly, "Yes. The Emperor has resolved to invest Prince Jin as the Crown Prince."
Ye Jiao turned her head with a cold snort and kicked a stone into the road. The pebble flew, scattering a rat that had just emerged from the gutter. Arriving at the end of the imperial street, Li Ce supported Ye Jiao as they boarded the carriage. She propped her chin on her hands, elbows resting on her knees, sighing deeply.
Li Ce removed the candle from beneath the lantern, holding it up gently toward her to read her expression. The flickering candlelight cast shadows from her long lashes onto her oval face; her peach-blossom eyes revealed vexation, disdain, and displeasure.
"What troubles you?" Li Ce smiled. "You look as if you just stepped in something foul."
"Li Zhang is far fouler than any rotten egg!" Ye Jiao retorted. "So, he's to be the Crown Prince, soon the Emperor. We all must obey him, or else risk losing our heads."
Beneath the heavens, does not all land belong to the king? Along the borders, are we not all his subjects? Though laws and rules exist, if the Emperor wills a man's death, it is but a breath away.
"More or less," Li Ce admitted.
A drop of wax slid down; he hastily moved the candle to avoid her gown, but the molten wax fell onto his wrist, burning faintly.
Ye Jiao bent down, rummaging through her sleeve until she found a crumpled piece of paper and pressed it into Li Ce's hand.
"If that is the case," she said with a troubled sigh, "I shall no longer offend him. You should return this to him."
Li Ce unfolded the paper, seeing a few words in Li Zhang's unmistakable handwriting.
"This matter was my fault; Ye Jiao is blameless."
"What is this?" Even sharp-witted Li Ce could not fathom why Li Zhang would write such a note. It was a scene Ye Jiao had staged before assaulting Li Zhang in Prince Jin's mansion, forcing him to write this.
"I scared him into writing it," she said irritably. "I thought it might help, but now that he is officially Crown Prince, and you will assist him in governance, this note is too dangerous to keep. Best to return it as a favor."
Dangerous indeed. Li Zhang must regret having penned those words every waking moment.
"Very well." Li Ce folded the note away, falling silent for a moment. Ye Jiao's displeasure troubled him. If Li Zhang could forgive and forget, that would be one thing. But if he harbored resentment for Ye Jiao's injury, it could lead to greater conflicts. No matter what, Li Ce would need all the strength he could muster. In this light, assisting the Crown Prince in governance might not be such a misfortune.
Li Ce raised his arm and drew Ye Jiao close. She feared resting against his still-healing shoulder blades and dared not lean on his chest. The chill of the night caused Li Ce to cough intermittently. Amid the carriage's jolts, neither found rest.
At dawn, the Emperor did not attend court. The ministers exchanged anxious glances as Gao Fu stood before the imperial desk, reading aloud two edicts: one conferring Prince Jin as Crown Prince, with the investiture ceremony to be held in due course; the other commanding the Crown Prince to govern the realm under the assistance of the Chancellor and Prince Chu.
All officials knelt in unison, wishing the Emperor eternal life, then rose to pay respects to the Crown Prince, pledging loyalty and support at his summons. This initial ceremony was a simple two-bow ritual. After the investiture, when Prince Jin was formally crowned and bestowed with the imperial seal, officials would perform the most solemn "nine-bow" ceremony, kneeling to touch hands and forehead to the ground, holding the position for a time — the highest tribute to a sovereign.
Li Zhang returned the salute with gentle composure, his posture steady and dignified, his expression humble yet restrained, regal in bearing. The court's earlier worries over the Emperor's frail health were momentarily eased. With the realm's future secured, there was little cause for concern.
The day's affairs commenced. Ministers presented their reports, matters discussed in the respective departments. Issues resolved at court were duly noted by Li Zhang for the Emperor's review. Disputes were recorded for imperial judgment. The affairs of state were weighty, each bearing the fate of the kingdom.
Li Zhang was no autocrat; more often than not, he guided with gentle inquiry rather than harsh interrogation. When unsure, he was unashamed to ask for clarity. Only once did his temper flare — when remonstrators accused the Military Governor of Henan of corruption and debauchery. Enraged, Li Zhang commanded a thorough investigation to root out traitors.
At the conclusion of court, many officials nodded in quiet approval. The purple and crimson-clad ministers departed, save the Chancellor, who whispered briefly with Li Zhang before also leaving.
Li Ce approached, handing him an envelope. Li Zhang took it with a puzzled expression, moving slowly to open it. Upon seeing the contents, his features stiffened; he stood motionless, silent, awaiting Li Ce's words.
Li Ce's face softened, tinged with regret. "My wife's conduct was unruly; she coaxed His Highness into writing this. She knows her mistake and returns it now, hoping for pardon."
Li Zhang's sharp brows furrowed briefly, then relaxed into a faint, self-mocking smile as he folded the letter and slipped it into his sleeve.
"Prince Chu, do not leave yet," he said, disregarding the note, "The Council of State will convene shortly. Since you now assist in governance, you should attend."
When the Emperor first contemplated admitting Li Ce into the Council, Li Ce had chosen to marry Ye Jiao instead. Yet now, unexpectedly, he was summoned to the Council after all.
Li Ce nodded in acquiescence, turning to leave when Li Zhang called again.
"Before the investiture," he said sternly, "do not address me as 'His Highness the Crown Prince.'"
Li Zhang corrected Li Ce.
"My foolish younger brother spoke out of turn," Li Ce admitted. Though many officials already used the title, protocol deemed it premature.
As Li Zhang stepped forward to pass Li Ce, he suddenly stopped and added, "Nor should you call her your wife."
What seemed a mere afterthought was the true point: You shall not address me as 'His Highness the Crown Prince,' nor refer to Ye Jiao as 'your wife.'
Their shoulders nearly collided, the jade plaques and rings at their waists clinking softly. Both princes stood rigidly, wearing nearly identical robes. Neither met the other's gaze nor displayed hostility, yet the atmosphere within the Purple Palace suddenly grew fiercer.
Li Zhang paused briefly before moving on, leaving Li Ce frozen in place. The gust that swept through the palace surged into Li Ce's heart, stirring tempestuous waves, though he restrained them to calm.
Could it be? Perhaps.
A storm thundered within Li Ce's soul as he strode toward the inner hall, his wide sleeves sweeping with the chill of drawn blades.
Prince Zhao Li Jing was elated. Lying on his bed, he grinned ear to ear.
"My second brother is the Crown Prince! My second brother is the Crown Prince! How splendid! Now I can stride through the capital as I please. Tell me, with the Emperor as father, the Empress as mother, and my elder brother the Crown Prince, who else could have a life as fortunate as mine?"
Zhao Wang's consort, Cui Jin'er, slapped his leg sharply. "Don't forget the Emperor is still ill!"
The burden of parents weighs heavy on a child. When parents suffer, sorrow fills the home. With the Emperor unwell, it falls to sons to forego frivolous pleasures. Some even weep daily in prayer.
"I know the Emperor is ill," Li Jing said, glancing at Li Ce beside him, then back to Cui Jin'er, "But you heard Xiao Jiu say the Emperor insisted my illness is unrelated. In other words, with my weak body, I have already borne the burden for him."
Cui Jin'er said nothing, glaring silently. Li Jing continued, "I am the scapegoat, the one who takes the silent beating, the cat kicked on the street without cause. I have fulfilled my filial duty."
Cui Jin'er could no longer contain her anger and rose. "If you hadn't barged into the palace, would you have been kicked?"
Seeing her wrath, Li Jing hastened to apologize, "I was wrong, I was wrong. Once I recover, I will obey everything you say."
Ignoring him, Cui Jin'er left with her maid, leaving Li Ce and Li Jing exchanging glances.
"She just..." Li Jing coughed, "...is she sulking again? She always acts like this in public but is quite obedient in private."
Li Ce glanced at him. What's embarrassing about that? Who doesn't marry a firecracker? His own was no less troublesome.
Li Jing recalled Ye Jiao and smiled wryly alongside Li Ce, bonded by shared hardship.
Li Ce helped him turn over, examined his wounds, and after resting briefly, asked hesitantly, "Fifth brother, what sort of woman does Prince Jin... favor?"
"You're joking, right?" Li Jing almost leapt. "Are you planning to send a woman to curry favor with him?"