Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 187: Making a Decision
With a loud clatter, Yongqi turned his head and couldn’t help but frown slightly.
It was the Fourth Prince, Yongcheng—who, for some reason, had become irritated with the bow in his hand and simply threw it to the ground.
Among the three, the youngest boy—the Twelfth Prince, Yongji—advised him: “Fourth Brother! How many times has Royal Father told you not to take out your anger on objects? How have you forgotten again?”
“Twelfth, since when is it your place to lecture your Fourth Brother? No manners!” Yongcheng said darkly, though his gaze was fixed in Yongqi’s direction.
Yongqi smiled slightly and walked over: “I heard that Fourth Brother was injured in the arm during the hunt not long ago. It must not have fully healed yet. There’s no need to rush—taking proper care of the injury is what matters most.”
Among the three, Yongcheng was the oldest. In literary pursuits he couldn’t compare to Yongqi; in martial skills he still couldn’t compare to Yongqi. Under the constant—sometimes intentional, sometimes unintentional—comparisons from others, he had long harbored resentment toward this exceptionally talented younger brother. Having now lost to him again in archery, his anger was already smoldering. Yongqi’s words had been intended as a face-saving way out for him, but in Yongcheng’s ears they sounded like provocation.
Just as he was about to retort sarcastically, a hand suddenly reached down and picked up the bow from the ground.
Yongqi followed the hand upward and, seeing who it belonged to, a flash of delight appeared in his eyes: “Master Fucha!”
His temples touched with frost, Fucha Fuheng was no longer the elegant young nobleman of years past. The battlefield had weathered his features, giving him a much more seasoned appearance—yet it had also added the mature allure of a grown man, like a fine wine that grows richer and more fragrant with age.
As both a great general of the dynasty and a former instructor in mounted archery to several of the princes, everyone had to address him respectfully as “Master” in his presence and dared not act carelessly. Fuheng handed the bow back to Yongcheng: “Fourth Prince, do you remember the incident when the official in charge, Guicheng, drew his bow in front of His Majesty? Because of a momentary carelessness the arrow shaft broke, and he was fined six months’ salary. Do you know why?”
Yongcheng was taken aback.
“Perhaps because the realm is now at peace, some people have forgotten… that the Great Qing won its dominion on horseback.” Fuheng spoke calmly. “Every year during the Mulan hunt, His Majesty personally examines the riding and archery skills of the princes, nobles, civil and military officials—to ensure that everyone never forgets this truth. Guicheng was ill in bed for half a year and could not draw a bow—yet he was still punished. Even though you are injured, Fourth Prince, you must not grow lax. In His Majesty’s presence, there is no room for excuses.”
But Yongcheng did not feel this was said for his own good; instead he felt Fuheng was stepping in to defend Yongqi. He immediately scoffed with a sneer: “Many thanks for Master Fucha’s reminder. I will remember it!”
He snatched his bow back, unwilling to deal with either of them any longer, and turned to walk toward the far end of the training ground. Behind him came the sound of Fuheng and Yongqi’s conversation.
“Fifth Prince, regarding the firearm improvement you mentioned to me last time…”
“Nowadays most of the Green Standard Army’s bird muskets have thin, hollow barrels. During drills they’re mostly used on flat ground, but in actual combat when firing downward, the powder ignites before the bullet has even left the barrel…”
Yongcheng glanced back and saw the two of them already walking side by side away from the training ground.
With no one else around, he no longer needed to pretend. He viciously hurled the bow in his hand to the ground. The noise was so loud that the nearby Yongji turned to look.
“What are you staring at?” Yongcheng sneered. “I advise you to throw away that bow in your hand sooner rather than later. After all, Royal Father has already said it—the Fifth Prince is the most outstanding among us. What’s the point of us even trying?”
No matter how hard they tried… in the end, wouldn’t that position still go to him?
Just as new leaves replace the old on a tree, just as fresh blossoms replace the faded ones on a branch—when the young grow up, it is also the time when one generation ages and fades away.
Chengqian Palace.
As usual, Zhener was combing Step-Empress’s hair when suddenly her right hand clenched and slipped behind her back.
“Take it out,” Step-Empress said slowly and calmly.
Zhener hesitated for a moment, then brought the hidden hand forward and slowly opened it. Lying in her palm was a single white hair.
This was not the first one.
Step-Empress said nothing. After a long silence, she quietly pulled open a small drawer in the vanity box and placed the white hair inside… together with yesterday’s, the day before’s, and the one from the day before that…
An entire bundle.
When any single thing accumulates in sufficient quantity, it becomes startling.
For example, a single wrinkle on the face is nothing much, but once a dozen of them cluster together, any woman would go mad.
“The mistress of the six palaces—big matters, small matters, everything falls on her shoulders. No wonder she ages faster than anyone else.” Step-Empress sighed. “No wonder…”
“No wonder what?” Zhener asked.
“Back then I asked Consort-Ling—no, now she’s Noble Consort-Ling—why she didn’t want to be Empress. She said she couldn’t do it, that she didn’t have the fate for so much worrying. Look at these past ten years: she eats whatever is delicious, plays whatever is fun. The other day I looked at her carefully—her hair is still glossy black, not a single white strand. Really… a woman in her thirties…” Step-Empress gave a distant smile, “…and yet she lives like a child.”
“That’s just her being selfish and shameless!” Zhener curled her lip in disdain. “A few years ago when the Empress Dowager didn’t favor her, she had the nerve to send Seventh Princess to Shoukang Palace. After that the Empress Dowager couldn’t keep up the cold face anymore. And that wasn’t even the end of it—six years ago when Lady Qing was promoted to Consort Qing, Wei Yingluo wanted to win her over so badly that she even sent Fifteenth Prince away! I really can’t understand it!”
At first Step-Empress hadn’t understood either. Now she did.
“Doesn’t she always say, ‘A woman must first treat herself as a person’?” Step-Empress said. “I see now—she loves no one in the world except herself. She treasures herself like a pearl.”
Besides, the princes and princesses have their own wet-nurses and nannies to take care of them. When they grow older, respected scholars are invited to teach them. Whether they are raised in one’s own palace or sent elsewhere, it makes little difference. Sending them to be raised by others even sounds better on paper.
In any case, it’s not as if they will never see each other again. Once classes are over, don’t those princes and princesses still run straight to Yanxi Palace? Noble Consort-Ling gets all the good reputation and benefits, while she herself…?
“Royal Mother!”
The young boy’s voice carried a trace of pain. Step-Empress started and turned around. “Yongji, what’s wrong?”
Yongji had been helped back by someone. The person supporting him was tall and slender, strikingly handsome. Past a certain age, most people—man or woman—begin to show some sign of aging. Especially men: if they’re not careful, their bodies grow stout, extra layers of flesh appear under the chin, and if they become the least bit lazy, needle-like stubble covers the entire lower face.
None of these things had happened to him.
Because he was a eunuch—or rather, the most beautiful eunuch in this Forbidden City.
—Yuan Chunwang.
“Your Ladyship, Twelfth Prince practiced archery under the blazing sun for two full hours. The skin on his hands is completely worn away,” Yuan Chunwang said. “This servant just had the imperial physician bandage and apply medicine. The physician instructed that he must not draw a bow again for at least a month.”
Step-Empress hurried over, took Yongji’s hands and kept examining them. The more she looked, the more her heart ached. Unable to hold back, she said, “Silly child, why do you push yourself so hard?”
“Royal Mother, don’t be sad. I don’t hurt at all,” Yongji said, his small face covered in sweat from the pain, yet forcing himself to smile. “Don’t worry—once my hands are healed, I will definitely win first place in riding and archery and bring honor to Royal Mother!”
The Step-Empress was stunned upon hearing this.
After Zhener supported Yongji and left, the Step-Empress sat alone in front of the diamond-patterned mirror in a daze, asking herself inwardly: Had she been too harsh on Yongji?
Yuan Chunwang stood behind her. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the bundle of white hair in the drawer. The corner of his lips lifted in an almost imperceptible arc as he reached out and picked up the ox-horn comb on the table.
“Empress,” he said, gently combing through the Step-Empress’s long hair stroke by stroke. “This servant has something to report.”
“What is it?” In the mirror, the Step-Empress smiled, a trace of mockery in her expression. “If it’s about trying to persuade me to deal with Wei Yingluo again, then spare your breath.”
Nothing could be hidden from her. She was the cleverest woman in the Forbidden City. But even the cleverest woman has her weaknesses.
“It concerns the matter of establishing the heir,” Yuan Chunwang said as he plucked out one white hair from her head. “There is news that His Majesty intends to appoint the Fifth Prince as Crown Prince.”
The Step-Empress said nothing, but her eyes were locked tightly on that single white hair in his hand.
“Empress,” Yuan Chunwang spoke in a tone that was half seduction, half persuasion, “it is time you considered the Twelfth Prince.”
In the past he would never have said this—because it would have been useless. But times had changed. That single white hair was a reminder to the Step-Empress: she was growing old. In the harem, women fought for favor when they were young; when they grew older, they fought to become Empress Dowager.
Moreover, if one of the other princes became Crown Prince, it might still be bearable—but the Fifth Prince… he was completely devoted to Consort-Ling.
“…Let me think about it,” the Step-Empress said in a low, heavy voice.
The struggle for the throne was no child’s game. Its brutality far exceeded the fights in the harem. When one side fell, entire groups often collapsed with them. The Step-Empress could not possibly make such a decision lightly.
After closing the door to give the person inside time to think carefully, Yuan Chunwang turned around and saw that Zhener was already waiting for him at the doorway.
“What did you just say to Her Majesty the Empress?” She pulled him aside and asked in a low voice.
Yuan Chunwang merely smiled without answering.
“…You’re not thinking of using the Empress’s hand to deal with Noble Consort-Ling again, are you?” Worry filled Zhener’s eyes. “Have you forgotten the suffering you endured in the Bureau of Careful Punishment back then?”
“How could I forget?” Yuan Chunwang said softly, though a flash of ferocity passed through his eyes.
Back then he had received over a hundred strokes in the Bureau of Careful Punishment—his flesh torn open, blood and flesh mangled. And because he had offended the most favored Consort-Ling, even after his release he had nowhere to go. If Zhener had not knelt before the Step-Empress for days and nights on his behalf, the Step-Empress would never have allowed him back by her side.
For more than ten years he had behaved obediently and kept his head down—not because he had forgotten the enmity and hatred from back then, but because he was like a snake in winter, coiled and dormant.
Until today…
“Zhener,” Yuan Chunwang said with a gentle smile, “Her Majesty the Empress has enjoyed ten years of peace and has completely forgotten that the struggle for the throne is imminent. If the Fifth Prince ascends to the throne, the Twelfth Prince—with his status as the legitimate-born son—will become a thorn in the new Emperor’s eye, a dagger in his flesh.”
Zhener was stunned. “His Majesty is in good health. He has no intention of establishing a Crown Prince so early…”
“Once the edict naming the heir is placed inside the box behind the ‘Upright and Bright’ plaque, it will be too late,” Yuan Chunwang shook his head. He took her hand and spoke tenderly, “This is for the Twelfth Prince, for Her Majesty the Empress… and for us.”
Zhener’s face flushed. Finally, she gave a small nod. “I’ll listen to you.”
Yuan Chunwang curved his lips into a smile and reached up to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Shy, Zhener lowered her head—and thus did not see the cold gleam that flashed through his eyes.
“If you cannot make up your mind,” Yuan Chunwang thought as he looked toward the main door, “then let me give you the final push…”
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