"A yellow pouch?" Ye Rou's luminous apricot eyes brimmed with caution.
"A yellow pouch," Ye Jiao replied, "a brighter fabric, judging by the texture, it should be brocade from Jiangnan. Feng Jie used to manage our family's waterway trade and had a good relationship with the palace cargo ships. Sending him there to fetch some scraps will suffice."
Tributes from Jiangnan all traveled up the Grand Canal to the capital. The Duke of Anguo's estate was involved in freight business, thus familiar with the palace's cargo vessels. Though Ye Rou didn't fully understand, she sensed the significance and folded away the embroidered piece with a nod.
"What does the pattern mean?" she asked.
Ye Jiao smiled mischievously, "Sister, you just work on it. I'll draw the design for you. This matter is of great importance—consider it a part of your dowry."
Ye Rou covered her lips to stifle a laugh. In the swaying carriage, she raised a hand and gently tapped Ye Jiao's forehead.
"Rest assured, after parting with Qian Yougong, I took all the dowry with me. The rents from those shops and estates are more than enough for you to spend. Using embroidery for the dowry? You know I'm never that stingy."
Seeing Ye Rou smile, Ye Jiao felt comforted. When Ye Rou first returned home, she had lived in daily fear and shed many tears. Even after Qian Yougong's death, sorrow lingered. But now, mentioning him brought only calm, a testament to how time truly heals all wounds.
"Sis," Ye Jiao leaned on Ye Rou's shoulder, her voice soft, "I don't want to marry anymore. I want to stay with you, with mother."
"Fool," Ye Rou gently caressed her, her tone tender, "It's always those few men. What's so meaningful about them? Marry Prince Chu, bear him children, and when you return home, our estate will be bustling again. Life is life—with children, life truly feels lived."
"What nonsense is that?" Ye Jiao laughed heartily. "Life is just as long as the sun rises, and we cherish every moment with earnestness. That's a good life. Some children are more trouble than they're worth; better not to have them at all." Her smile faded as she thought of the children her sister could not keep. The Duke of Anguo's household could no longer afford to be weak and vulnerable.
"Sis," Ye Jiao squeezed Ye Rou's hand, her eyes growing heavy, "rest assured."
Li Ce often told her to rest assured, and now Ye Jiao wished to say the same—to her sister, to all those she longed to protect.
"Rest assured," inside the Prince Zhao's mansion, Li Jing said with a strained expression, "now that the princess has borne a child, I shall no longer seek fleeting pleasures."
"Then where are you sneaking off to in the middle of the night?" Cui Jin'er lay in bed, nurturing her pregnancy, poking Li Jing's rear with a bamboo rod. "Just two days and you're already off playing. Don't you care about my hardship carrying this child..." Tears threatened but never fell, for despite the pregnancy, she remained joyful every day.
"No," Li Jing confessed, "there are matters at court I must verify."
"What matters?" Cui Jin'er pressed. "You usually avoid court affairs. Nothing stirs you without profit. Tell me, what's this 'profit'?"
Li Jing gripped the bamboo rod's tip, easing his soreness. "The 'profit' is Xiao Jiu. Before he left, he entrusted me with three critical tasks to verify and relay back swiftly."
He wore a look of disdain, as if Li Ce were a sticky sugar he could not shake off.
"The first?"
"The choice of commander for the Imperial Guards," Li Jing answered. Since Yan Jide, the former commander, was disgraced and demoted, the post had been vacant. Yan Congzheng, the deputy commander, lacked the seniority and age for promotion. Recently, ministers petitioned the emperor to appoint a new commander. The memorials were before the emperor; all awaited his decree.
Cui Jin'er tossed aside the bamboo rod and sat up seriously. "Xiao Jiu asked for your help—why waste time here?"
"Am I wasting time?" Li Jing wanted to snap but held back for the unborn child's sake. "It's the bamboo rod on my backside!" With that, he left before she could retort.
An hour later, he returned hastily, spreading out stationery to write. Cui Jin'er, drowsy, asked, "Has the emperor made his decree?"
Li Jing, beneath a dim lamp, muttered, "He has. General Bai of Jiannan."
Cui Jin'er turned over, her voice clearer. "Bai Fanxi... I heard from my maternal clan that three-tenths of the Tang army hail from the Lu family. Most others bear the names Li or Zhang. Bai is powerful too?"
The Lu family was the maternal clan of Prince Wei, Li Chen. Li Jing quickly finished his letter, sealed it carefully with anti-peeping marks, and handed it to a retainer.
"If intercepted," he instructed, "burn it completely."
The retainer departed as Li Jing returned, his demeanor cold as frost. He slipped off his boots quietly and crept into bed.
"Bai Fanxi... 'The great path is broad, one may go left or right.' The Bai family has long operated in Jiannan, a land rich beyond measure. His return is indeed rare."
"Is the intelligence certain?" Cui Jin'er rubbed her eyes, resting her head on Li Jing's arm. "We have few contacts in the palace."
"They're Xiao Jiu's people," Li Jing grunted. "I used the pretext of dining at the barracks by the city gate and received the news."
Those who relayed palace whispers trusted Li Jing.
"His Highness seems displeased," Cui Jin'er blinked.
"I'm not displeased," Li Jing held her close, hand on her belly, feeling the faint swell, stroking gently. "I just feel kept in the dark and worry for him."
Checking on crossbows in Jinzhou, appeasing the populace, overseeing the capital's guard leadership change—how does he find time for all this?
Li Jing snorted again, thick with concern.
"General Bai," Cui Jin'er, nearly asleep, murmured, "doesn't he have a son? That boy must be delighted."
Bai Fanxi's son, Bai Xianyu, was at that moment driving his carriage joyfully home. Thanks to the Crown Prince's intervention, his father would resume command of the Imperial Guards. This news would surely chill the hearts of ministers who prematurely assumed Bai's retirement and had begun opportunistic scheming.
The world was like that—Bai Xianyu would not be angered. His task was to adapt to the world and grow strong. He had chosen the right path. Supporting the Crown Prince's succession guaranteed him a place in court.
Bai Xianyu cheerfully entered his home, tossing the reins to the gatekeeper before pausing abruptly.
"Master?" the gatekeeper bowed.
Bai Xianyu stiffened, then returned to the carriage, retrieving a food box. Though the meal was finished, the dishes needed washing. He was no sloven.
Humming a tune, he saw the steward approaching.
"Has mother rested?" Bai Xianyu asked. "Did you deliver the Buddhist sutras I gave you yesterday?"
"The lady has rested," the steward replied, "and the sutras have been delivered. You're needed in the study now."
"The study?" Bai Xianyu frowned. "To burn books for warmth?"
The household knew well Bai Xianyu's disdain for reading and the study, for that was where he was beaten as a child.
His father's visits were rare and always began with questioning in the study, followed by beatings. If not for the royal prohibition against arson, Bai Xianyu would have long ago burned the study down during his father's absence.
He strode forward briskly but was stopped by the steward.
"Master, the lord has returned."
"When?" Bai Xianyu froze, breath hitching, a sudden ache sweeping over him. But this time, surely, he would not be beaten. He was nearly twenty and had earned merit.
Carefully, he opened the study door and stood respectfully, avoiding Bai Fanxi's gaze, and said, "Father, you have returned."
The steward closed the door behind him. Bai Xianyu looked up to see Bai Fanxi seated behind a desk, his face pale.
What had happened?
Bai Xianyu hurriedly said, "Father, I have just received news. His Majesty summons you to assume command of the Imperial Guards. From now on, you will lead a hundred thousand troops to protect the capital!"
The only reply was two heavy words: "Slap yourself."
A self-inflicted slap—more humiliating for a man than a beating with a rod.
"Father!" Bai Xianyu cried, "What wrong have I done?"
Bai Fanxi rose from behind the desk, advanced step by step, then kicked Bai Xianyu's shoulder, sending him sprawling.
"What wrong?" Bai Fanxi's voice was fierce. "You have allied with the Crown Prince, engaged in factional strife—a crime punishable by death!"