Spring Remains the Same - Chapter 103

In the end, it was Wei Xiu who coaxed Puyang to sleep. She had waited until the third watch, originally intending to confess everything to Puyang. However, when she saw Puyang return, her face etched with weariness, she couldn’t bear it, unwilling to let Puyang, already so tired, be troubled by her affairs. When Puyang shed tears, Wei Xiu completely abandoned the idea, remembering only to comfort her in a soft, low voice. So much time had already passed; postponing it for a few more days should be fine.

Having just moved into the palace, a separate couch had not yet been set up in the hall. Wei Xiu wouldn’t mention it, and Puyang didn’t either, so the two lay together. Puyang was asleep. She had morning court the next day and had to rise before the mao hour. By that calculation, Seventh Lady would get less than two shichen of sleep.

This wouldn’t do. It was too exhausting. If it was like this again tomorrow, she would have to have a serious talk with Seventh Lady. Wei Xiu gazed at Puyang’s sleeping face, thinking to herself.

Puyang was sleeping rather far away; there was almost enough space for a porcelain pillow between them.

She was probably afraid of touching her wound. Wei Xiu scooted over a little so that Puyang could find her if she stirred in her sleep, and only then did she close her eyes and drift off.

When she awoke the next day, Puyang had indeed moved closer to Wei Xiu. She was hugging Wei Xiu’s arm, her head resting on her shoulder, sleeping very peacefully. Qin Kun called for her to rise from outside the hall. He was already getting anxious. If Her Majesty didn’t get up soon, she would be late. For the first morning court session after her ascension, nothing could go wrong!

The summer sky lightened early, and the room was already bright.

Puyang released her hand and moved away from Wei Xiu’s side.

Although it was still summer, the Beginning of Autumn was approaching, and the nights and early mornings held a slight chill. Puyang rose from the couch and stepped barefoot onto the floor. She bent down to cover Wei Xiu properly with the thin blanket before walking out the door.

Seeing Her Majesty finally emerge, Qin Kun let out a great sigh of relief and quickly ordered the waiting palace attendants to come forward and help Her Majesty dress and wash.

Time was tight, and it was inevitable that they made some noise. Puyang frowned and chided in a low voice, “Be quieter.”

The palace attendants quickly steadied their hands and feet, trembling with apprehension.

Rushing and hurrying, she finally made it to the morning court session on time.

The edict of the new sovereign’s ascension had been proclaimed to the world, but in this era of slow communication, news was relayed from one post station to the next by horse, or spread by word of mouth from traveling merchants. By the time the new sovereign’s decree reached the remote borderlands or neighboring countries, it would likely be half a month later.

Therefore, even if officials from various regions wanted to submit memorials to congratulate the new sovereign’s enthronement, or if neighboring states sent envoys to offer congratulations and, incidentally, condolences for Emperor Ai, it would be at least a month later. For these next couple of days, things were still quiet.

Puyang issued an edict, ordering the Ministry of Rites to prepare for the grand ceremony of installing the Imperial Consort, and also commanded the Bureau of the Grand Historian to select an auspicious day. She had already issued an edict yesterday conferring the title of Imperial Consort upon Wei Xiu, and Wei Xiu was already the Prince Consort, but the installation ceremony was still missing. During the ceremony, the Emperor would bestow the golden tablets, the precious seal, and the central palace’s memorial tablets. These symbols of the central palace’s status would be received from the Emperor’s hands by an envoy and delivered to the Prince Consort. There were three envoys—one primary and two deputies—a role often filled by imperial princes or high court officials, making it a very solemn affair. After the conferment, sacrifices would be made to Heaven and Earth. Every step was solemn and grand.

Puyang was unwilling to treat Wei Xiu unfairly, especially after learning her identity. She was even more determined not to wrong her.

In truth, there was still resentment. Resentment for her heart of stone, for ignoring her deep affection. Resentment that she had used love as a tool, knowing full well that Puyang was deeply in love with her, yet still luring her deeper and deeper into the trap.

But more than that, there was guilt. The tragic fate of the entire Zhong clan was indeed her father’s fault.

The Bureau of the Grand Historian acted with extreme speed; they must have been preparing since yesterday. Around noon, the Grand Historian himself came to report that the first and seventeenth of the next month were both good days. After that, the next auspicious day would be more than three months away, on the fifth of the tenth month. But none were as good as the seventeenth of next month—that was a great day, suitable for all matters.

Puyang calculated silently in her mind. The seventeenth was twenty days from now. The Beginning of Autumn was in three days. After that, the weather would turn cooler, but not yet cold. It would be most pleasant, so there was no need to worry about tiring A Xiu.

She selected that date.

The Grand Historian was also pleased to have completed this task. Just as he was about to withdraw, Puyang suddenly thought of something and asked, “Is the History of Zhou complete?”

The Grand Historian replied respectfully, “It is complete.”

It had been completed two years ago, but for some unknown reason, the High Emperor had ordered its promulgation to be postponed. Thus, it had been delayed until today. The emperor had changed twice, yet the History of Zhou was still gathering dust in the Bureau of the Grand Historian.

Puyang had asked Chancellor Wang some questions, but she still didn’t know much about the Zhong clan. Thinking that the History of Zhou would surely contain records, she said, “Go and fetch it, Minister. I wish to see it.”

After just a few words, the Grand Historian felt that the new sovereign was very approachable, unlike Emperor Ai, who always put on airs. Yet, his airs did not make him seem dignified, whereas the new sovereign, despite being approachable, made him, as a subject, not dare to be the slightest bit negligent. Instead, his reverence only grew.

This was true presence.

The Grand Historian quickly bowed. “This subject will go and retrieve it at once.”

The History of Zhou was a monumental work, comprising one volume each for the preface and table of contents, seven volumes of imperial annals, twenty volumes of treatises, seventy-three volumes of biographies, and thirty volumes of chronicles—a total of one hundred and thirty-two volumes.

There were seventeen authors, including historians and several scholars from the court renowned for their literary talent.

Compiling a history had always been a grand affair, and this one had drawn widespread attention at the time.

When Puyang received the finished manuscript, she first began searching the table of contents. After looking through it once, she didn’t see it. In a dynasty, many people could be included in the biographies, many of whom only received a few lines, and quite a few had to share a single biography with two or three others. Thus, the list was inevitably dense, and it was possible to overlook something.

Puyang thought she had been too hasty and had missed it, so she searched again. Still nothing. Not only was Lord Zhong’s name absent, but during the reign of the Prince of Runan, there wasn’t even a single high-ranking minister with the surname Zhong. The Zhong clan was a great clan. Even if they had fallen into decline after suffering the calamity of war, it was impossible for there not to have been a single high-ranking official named Zhong in the court during their peak! It could only have been deliberately erased.

Puyang had already realized it, but she was still unwilling to accept it. She searched one more time, and naturally, it was in vain.

Puyang felt as if even the strength to remain in a kneeling position had been drained from her. Towards Wei Xiu, that little bit of resentment vanished like smoke. Puyang was utterly devastated. She realized that the knot between her and A Xiu would be impossible to untie in this lifetime.

But in the end, she still clung to a sliver of hope. The History of Zhou had not yet been promulgated. Apart from a few people in the Bureau of the Grand Historian, no one else knew. A Xiu did not know about this.

She hated her father, that was beyond doubt, but she wanted to know what A Xiu thought of her. They had been together for four years; A Xiu should know better than anyone what kind of person she was. She had treated her with her whole heart. Had she been moved at all? Had the hatred in her heart diminished in any way?

She decided to go and ask.

Perhaps once one thought things through, there was nothing that couldn’t be accepted.

Puyang had always been decisive in her actions. She first calmly summoned the Grand Historian. She didn’t ask him why a Grand Marshal of such merit had no place in the history; she simply ordered him to add it. She didn’t plan to let Wei Xiu know what the late emperor had done; she just wanted to rectify it silently. Moreover, if even the history books were not just, how disheartened would those loyal men who had shed bl00d and given their lives for their country and their homes be?

Hearing the edict, the Grand Historian’s face lit up with joy. He nearly beat his chest and promised to compile it properly.

Puyang smiled and dismissed him.

As soon as the Grand Historian left, she returned to the Hall of Containing Light.

Wei Xiu was in the courtyard. Her maid, the one called A Rong, was lingering among the flowers. Wei Xiu held a scroll in her hand but wasn’t reading it. She just held it, smiling as she watched A Rong pluck a jasmine blossom. This was likely the last cluster of jasmine for the year. The small white flowers grew in tight bunches. Though not stunning, they possessed a distant elegance and a sweet, rich fragrance.

A Rong brought the flowers to Wei Xiu, who plucked a sprig and tucked it into her hair at the temples.

When Puyang saw this scene, she stopped. She dismissed her palace attendants and hid herself behind a cluster of green trees, watching from a distance without approaching. Her gaze towards A Rong held a hint of envy, but more than that, it was restrained.

A Rong seemed to like it very much, lowering her head with a touch of shyness. Wei Xiu said something with a smile, and A Rong immediately feigned annoyance, glaring at her with playful anger before turning and running into the hall. That glare wasn’t fierce at all; it was rather soft, still filled more with shyness.

Wei Xiu shook her head in amusement, her gaze following A Rong until she entered the hall. Only then did her smile fade, a hint of melancholy appearing in her eyes, before she lowered her head and opened the book in her hands.

Puyang waited another moment before walking out with a natural expression.

There was a gentle breeze today, and the sun was pleasant, not too scorching, but rather warm. Wei Xiu had been sitting in the courtyard for a while, her body feeling languid from the sunlight. Hearing footsteps, Wei Xiu turned her head and saw Puyang approaching. There were no palace attendants with her; she was alone.

Wei Xiu closed her book again and placed it on the small table beside her.

Puyang drew near and saw a flower petal still clinging to her knee, likely having fallen there when she was plucking the flowers earlier. She moved forward without a change in expression, brushed the petal away, and then sat down beside Wei Xiu.

Wei Xiu watched her with a constant smile. Only after she sat down did she say, “Why have you come? Is there nothing to attend to at the front?”

Puyang would naturally not let her worries show on her face. Hearing her question, she also replied with a smile, “There wasn’t much to do in the first place. It’s still quiet these couple of days.”

She had something to ask Wei Xiu, but she certainly wouldn’t say it directly. She would ask in a roundabout way, so that even if she heard an answer she didn’t want to hear, she wouldn’t be left with no path of retreat.

Wei Xiu thought that made sense and said, “Why don’t you have the memorials brought here to read?” That way, she wouldn’t have to go back and forth between the Hall of Proclaimed Virtue and the Hall of Containing Light. The Hall of Containing Light also had a study.

Puyang thought that was a good idea. She called for Qin Kun and ordered him to go and fetch the memorials.

Having one’s suggestion accepted was always a happy occasion. Wei Xiu’s smile deepened, and she added, “The Beginning of Autumn is in a few days. The fish we’re raising at the princess’s residence should be ready for catching and eating. If you have time, why don’t we make a trip?”

A warm smile also filled Puyang’s eyes. For A Xiu to remember such a detailed matter, she must hold some weight in her heart.

Puyang said with a smile, “Alright. How about after your installation ceremony? The Bureau of the Grand Historian has chosen a date, the seventeenth of next month.”

Wei Xiu calculated the time. That seemed about right. She also nodded. “Alright. We can send someone ahead of time to tidy up.”

The princess’s residence was Puyang’s former estate before her ascension. It was managed by dedicated staff and would certainly not have fallen into disrepair. Sending someone was just to give them advance notice.

“That’s a good idea. It will prevent them from rushing about in a panic, which would spoil the mood.” Puyang also thought it was a good idea. The atmosphere had relaxed. Puyang watched Wei Xiu’s expression and, as if mentioning it casually, said, “A Xiu, I have a difficult matter here, and I don’t know how to decide.”

Hearing this, Wei Xiu’s expression also turned serious. She said, “Please speak, Your Majesty.”

Puyang then said, “It’s about the Prince of Han and the Prince of Teng. They are both still young and appear to be mediocre; otherwise, the late emperor wouldn’t have been willing to enthrone his eldest grandson rather than them. But they are imperial princes, after all.”

Puyang’s use of “the late emperor” referred to the High Emperor; she was still accustomed to calling him that.

Wei Xiu understood. Xiao Dewen was dead. The Princes of Jin, Zhao, Jing, and Dai had all been convicted of crimes that extended to their descendants. By convention, the next in line for the throne should have been the Prince of Han. But Puyang was powerful, and she was determined to become emperor herself. The Prince of Han wasn’t a fool either; he simply stepped aside, and together with the Prince of Teng, submitted a memorial to resign, showing they had no intention of vying for the throne.

But they did, after all, have the right to the throne. Perhaps in the hearts of many, the Prince of Han was the legitimate heir. These two were indeed troublesome. The trouble lay not in how much power they had, but in their status.

Wei Xiu pondered this silently. Puyang watched her cautiously, a little timid, yet also a little hopeful. She lowered her voice, a weakness in her tone that even she herself didn’t notice. “A Xiu, I’ve decided to confine them to the capital. Do you think that’s acceptable?”