Spring Remains the Same - Chapter 86

The imperial physician looked unreliable, but when he took the pulse, he was quite professional. That made sense. The Imperial Medical Bureau gathered the best physicians in the realm; if one wasn’t skilled in medicine, how could they serve as an imperial physician?

Puyang sat beside him, not speaking, waiting for the physician to finish taking the Emperor’s pulse.

In the entire Imperial Medical Bureau, only a few were ever sent to treat the Son of Heaven. This physician’s surname was Zhou. He had been the attending physician since the Emperor’s last fainting spell, so he was very familiar with His Majesty’s condition.

After finishing the diagnosis, he respectfully replied, “The last cold came on fiercely. Your Majesty is of strong constitution and blessed by Heaven, so it was not a major issue. However, the root of the illness has not been completely eliminated. Your Majesty must still take care of your health.”

The Emperor waved his hand impatiently. “We know.”

Puyang, however, asked in detail, “It’s been two months, and it’s still not gone? How should he take care of himself, and what regimen should he follow afterward?”

Physician Zhou was about to withdraw, but hearing the Princess’s question, he glanced at the Emperor. Seeing no objection, he spoke again with a serious expression, explaining in great detail matters of diet, medication, and daily routine. Considering the Emperor’s heavy workload made it impossible to follow everything, he selected the most crucial points and emphasized them. Puyang was not an expert in medicine, but she knew the basics, so she could judge that what Physician Zhou said was indeed sound advice from beginning to end.

After Physician Zhou finished his long-winded explanation, the Emperor smiled. “My child, are you at ease now?” As he spoke, he waved his hand, signaling for the physician to withdraw.

Physician Zhou bowed and silently exited the hall.

Puyang was just thinking that this physician was reliable, secretly observing his appearance and committing him to memory for future inquiries should His Majesty fall ill again. Hearing the Emperor’s words, she retorted petulantly, “Only if Father follows the physician’s advice can your child truly be at ease.”

The Emperor chuckled softly, shaking his head as he laughed. The physician had already tried his best to simplify things, but he himself stayed up by candlelight every night, exhausting his mind and energy. How could he possibly find the time for such health regimens?

Puyang thought of this as well and couldn’t help but fall silent.

The Emperor, helpless, showed a hint of indifference, his interest waning. “If your brothers could grasp the bigger picture instead of fighting for their own selfish interests day after day, why would I need to involve myself in every matter?”

As it concerned the princes, Puyang dared not speak rashly. She could only say in a low voice, “If Your Majesty disciplines them more, my royal brothers will eventually appreciate Your Majesty’s painstaking efforts.”

The Emperor smiled and changed the subject. “Let’s not talk about them. Let’s talk about you. How have you been these past few days? Is the Prince Consort obedient?”

At the mention of the Prince Consort, Puyang became very happy, a smile spreading from the corners of her eyes. But when she opened her mouth, it was to complain softly, “After our wedding, A-Xiu seems to dislike going out even more than before. Apart from visiting a few families in the first few days, she just holes up at home and doesn’t move.”

She was clearly expressing dissatisfaction, yet her happiness was palpable. Anyone could see her joy at that moment.

She rarely showed such charming petulance; she looked just like a little girl. The Emperor was suddenly reminded of many years ago, when the Empress would play with Seventh Lady in the courtyard, chasing butterflies. His eyes grew warm, and his heart softened in an instant. He earnestly advised, “The Prince Consort was able to live in seclusion in the deep mountains, which shows he is a person who loves tranquility. It’s normal for him not to like going out, so don’t force him. In a marriage, you must respect and love each other. Don’t let yourself be wronged, but also don’t use your status as a princess to suppress him.”

Puyang’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she grew a little shy. Knowing the Emperor’s good intentions, she said with a blush, “Your child understands.” She respected A-Xiu very much, and A-Xiu treated her very well too.

A gentle smile appeared in the Emperor’s eyes. “That is good.” As if remembering something, he then sighed slowly.

Seeing this, Puyang knew the Emperor had something to say; otherwise, he wouldn’t have specially summoned her to the palace. She discreetly wiped the smile from her face and thoughtfully prompted him, “Why does Father sigh?”

The Emperor turned to look out the window. It was already early summer, and the courtyard was lush with dense, verdant shade. A trace of loneliness appeared on his face. “Lately, We have often been thinking of the past.” Perhaps it was because Xiao Dewen had mentioned the Prince of Yan a few times in his ear recently, or perhaps visiting the Prince of Yan’s tomb made him think of his firstborn son who had died young. Or perhaps it was that illness that made him feel he was truly old. During this time, he was always thinking of the past.

Puyang remained silent, just listening quietly. She understood the Emperor. He wouldn’t have sought her out just to confide in her, nor would he easily show weakness. Such a sigh must have a purpose.

As expected, the Emperor continued, “Founding an dynasty is difficult; courage and talent are both indispensable. Thinking back on those years, fighting with court officials, fighting with the Emperor of Zhou, one careless move could lead to eternal damnation. One had to compete in intelligence, in courage, and in ruthlessness. One had to endure what must be endured, sacrifice what must be sacrificed, and there was no shortage of bloody slaughter. But maintaining an dynasty is easier. Even if the ruler is mediocre, with a group of capable ministers, the state can generally be governed well enough.” Thus, all that was needed was a ruler who could maintain the status quo to pass on his achievements. The Prince of Jin could do this, and so could the Prince of Jing.

Unfortunately, the current situation was not so peaceful.

Puyang had long known the Emperor’s thoughts. As a founding emperor who could govern the state and fight wars, with numerous achievements to his name, he naturally looked down on a mediocre son. Moreover, the current situation, though seemingly peaceful, was fraught with hidden crises. War could break out at any time. A monarch who could not make decisions, or who could but made the wrong ones, was no different from placing the Great Wei on a pile of eggs.

Puyang glanced secretly at the Emperor and saw that his expression was not as relaxed as his words suggested. He looked at the vibrant greenery outside the window, and after a brief silence, he suddenly turned back and asked, “We hear that Dewen has been visiting your residence often recently?”

First, he spoke of founding and maintaining an enterprise, subtly hinting at the matter of appointing an heir, then he suddenly pointed out that Xiao Dewen was visiting her too frequently. Puyang was caught somewhat off guard. Fortunately, she was accustomed to composure. No matter how nervous she was inside, her face remained calm. After a moment’s thought, she smiled gracefully. “Father has heard about that too? That little fellow Dewen, for some reason, insists on asking the Prince Consort to be his teacher. The Prince Consort doesn’t even like to leave the house, let alone teach him. These last few times, she’s tried to avoid him the moment he arrives.”

The Emperor couldn’t help but find it amusing. “With such refusals, it’s a wonder Dewen still has the thick skin to keep showing up.” He had been observing Xiao Dewen and naturally knew Puyang was telling the truth. Every time, Xiao Dewen would arrive with gifts, and every time, he wouldn’t stay long—not even for half an hour—before leaving with the gifts just as he had brought them.

Puyang was also full of smiles and feigned a protest. “Father should talk to Dewen. The capital is full of worthy men who could serve as the Prince’s tutor. A-Xiu is lazy, so he shouldn’t keep pestering her.”

But the Emperor did not agree. He closed his eyes and said leisurely, “That won’t do. In the past, she was a lofty scholar, letting all her talent go to waste, insisting on hiding away. The court couldn’t very well trouble her. But things are different now. She is the Prince Consort, a relative. Even without the title of master and disciple, what’s the harm in teaching a nephew? You should persuade her to guide and teach Dewen.” He opened his eyes again, his gaze burning as he stared at Puyang. “This will benefit you as well.”

Puyang acted as if she didn’t understand the Emperor’s hint and said lightly, “Then your child will speak to her upon returning.”

The Emperor was satisfied.

Dou Hui, who was standing by, saw that their conversation was over and stepped forward. “Your Majesty, it is getting late. It is time for the meal to be served.”

Puyang glanced at the sun outside the window. It was indeed noon. The bright, warm sun hung high in the sky, making one feel increasingly drowsy. She wondered if A-Xiu had eaten lunch. On such a fine day, what a wonderful thing it would be to take a lazy nap with her on the small couch by the window.

Puyang was thinking of home, and the Emperor had ministers to summon. After lunch, she took her leave.

When she returned to her residence, the sky had turned overcast. Puyang felt it was a slight pity. She summoned the household steward, first asking where the Prince Consort was, then who had visited that day, and who had sent their calling cards.

The steward answered each question and presented a stack of calling cards, saying, “These are the ones worth seeing.”

Countless scholars and officials from outside the capital presented their calling cards every day seeking an audience with the Princess, and innumerable families invited her to banquets. The Princess would only choose a few to meet and a few places to visit. For the rest, if they were of high status, she would send a reply card; if their rank was low and they had no particular reputation, she would simply ignore them.

Puyang took the stack of calling cards and headed to the rear courtyard.

Wei Xiu was bent over her desk, writing something. Puyang stopped a maidservant who was about to bow, then waved for the two eunuchs attending in the room to withdraw. She walked in lightly on her own, standing behind Wei Xiu without making a sound.

Wei Xiu was copying a letter. It was a letter of greeting sent by the governor of Gunzhou, which also mentioned that there had been little rain this year, leading to a bit of a drought. If it didn’t rain in the summer, the harvest would likely be affected, and he would have to ask the Princess to speak up at court so the common people wouldn’t go hungry through the winter.

It had arrived yesterday. Puyang had read it and left it on the desk, and the eunuchs hadn’t had a chance to put it away yet.

This governor had excellent handwriting with a great deal of character. Wei Xiu liked it, so she was copying a few strokes.

When Puyang saw clearly what Wei Xiu was writing, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Aiya!”

Wei Xiu was startled by her. Her hand trembled, smudging the character she was writing. She immediately said irritably, “What are you shouting for? Have you never seen someone write before?” But her eyes held a smile.

Puyang wasn’t angered by her teasing words. She picked up what Wei Xiu had written and the original letter, comparing them. “I’ve seen people write, but I’ve never seen a copy so similar.” Every stroke was identical, and she had even captured seventy to eighty percent of the essence of the characters’ spirit.

“Just a few casual strokes,” Wei Xiu said, turning her wheelchair to move aside and make room for Puyang to sit next to her.

After her initial surprise, Puyang didn’t press the matter. She put down the letter and sat beside Wei Xiu. Wei Xiu raised a hand to wipe the beads of sweat from Puyang’s forehead. “You were in such a hurry. Did you have lunch at the palace?”

“Yes, Father summoned me to discuss some things.”

Wei Xiu didn’t rush to ask what it was about. Instead, she just looked at Puyang without speaking and suddenly smiled.

Puyang was pleased by her gaze, but also a little embarrassed. She asked in a low voice, “What is it?”

Wei Xiu was also shy, but she answered honestly, “We haven’t seen each other for half a day, and I find myself missing you.”

Newlyweds, thick as thieves. A separation of half a day felt like three autumns. Puyang missed her too. She leaned against Wei Xiu’s shoulder and sighed regretfully, “If only we never had to be apart for a single moment.”

But they both had many things to do. They both knew that for their relationship to last, they first had to resolve the major issues of securing their lives and positions.

Puyang leaned on her shoulder, feeling its reliability, though it wasn’t broad. Wei Xiu casually picked up the stack of calling cards, looked through them, and divided them into two piles. The one on the left was for audiences or banquets to attend, while the one on the right could simply be declined.

“Father seems to have made up his mind. He wants you to teach Dewen, to let him know some things,” Puyang said, still leaning against her as if making small talk.

“Then I’ll teach him,” Wei Xiu said. She had been teaching him all along; it was just moving from the shadows into the light.

But Puyang was worried about something else. If the Emperor made up his mind so early and kept Xiao Dewen by his side, teaching him for ten years or so, it would be difficult to influence him later on.

“If he is truly chosen, the Emperor will surely cultivate trusted aides for him. Over time, it’s not guaranteed that he won’t slip out of our control.”

Wei Xiu had also considered this scenario. A faint smile touched her lips as she said nonchalantly, “How could it be so easy? If an Imperial Grandson is appointed, how will the other princes be settled? How will the court officials be persuaded? How will the balance between new and old ministers be maintained? None of these are easy matters. No matter how much His Majesty favors the Prince of Donghai, he won’t be entirely selfless in his bias. He will certainly have to ensure the lives of the other princes are safe. And so, a contradiction arises. In Your Highness’s opinion, will the Prince listen to me, or to His Majesty?”

Puyang tilted her head. Wei Xiu’s profile was so close that the tip of her nose could almost touch her smooth earlobe. Just then, Wei Xiu turned her head as well. On her fair face, her features were not deep-set but distinct, her brows gentle, her gaze tranquil. She was serene, peaceful, like a clear breeze and bright moon—the very picture of a gentleman of old, inspiring goodwill at first sight.

Yet beneath this gentlemanly demeanor lay unfathomably deep thoughts. Sometimes, Puyang felt that even though they were so close, there was still a part of A-Xiu’s heart that she had never reached.

Seeing Puyang staring at her, Wei Xiu found it a bit strange. “Am I wrong?”

Puyang came back to her senses and smiled. “You’re right.”

Xiao Dewen saw the other princes as thorns in his side. His current deference was just an act. Once he gained power, he would surely remember the years he was looked down upon and would rack his brains to get even. But the Emperor was different. It was true he wanted an heir who could handle great responsibilities, but the princes were his own sons, and he would definitely protect them. Xiao Dewen was petty and narrow-minded; he was likely both resentful and worried about his own position being unstable. He already trusted Wei Xiu a great deal. Everything she said came true, and following her advice led to smooth success. Naturally, he relied on her more. In the future, when the situation became tense, he would only trust Wei Xiu more.

Wei Xiu was already confident of her plan, so Puyang no longer worried. However, there was a saying: man proposes, Heaven disposes. In her past life, her death and the ruin of her name—was that not also fated? Many things were different in this life, but whenever Puyang remembered the night she drank the poisoned wine, her heart still pounded with fear. If she failed again this time, she wouldn’t be so lucky as to have another chance to start over.

“A-Xiu, what if we lose…” Puyang said in a low voice. In her past life, she was all alone with nothing to fear. If she lost again in this life, she was afraid she would drag A-Xiu down with her.

But Wei Xiu smiled calmly. “Even if we lose, we can still die together. That’s better than…” She had watched her drink the poison, helpless, leaving her in this world to suffer heartbreak alone.

Puyang waited for her to continue, but Wei Xiu fell silent. Puyang couldn’t help but ask, “Better than what?”

Wei Xiu smiled, her gaze soft as she looked at her. “Better than trying to make a living under Xiao Dewen and suffering humiliation for no reason.”

Such a free and easy attitude swept away Puyang’s gloom, and she relaxed as well.

The capital had not yet realized that the Emperor’s illness, which seemed ordinary, had in fact turned the world upside down.

Puyang and Wei Xiu were right. The Emperor had made up his mind to make Xiao Dewen the heir. He was growing old, his remaining years uncertain, and the position of crown prince could no longer remain vacant. The princes were unreliable, so he might as well appoint his eldest grandson. Xiao Dewen was still young, which was indeed a tricky point, but precisely because he was young, he could still be taught. If the Emperor could just live for another ten years and teach him for ten years, even if Xiao Dewen were a fool, he should have learned the way of a ruler by then. He would be twenty, not too young. The Emperor would leave him a group of reliable ministers, supplemented by an elder of the imperial clan like Puyang, and the Great Wei would be secure.

He also considered the Wang clan. The Wangs were the empress’s relatives, producing many talented individuals and holding great sway at court. With Chancellor Wang in charge, although a few members of the Wang clan had their own schemes, they were generally stable. A ruler could not ignore the danger of powerful subjects usurping the throne. Once Chancellor Wang passed away, the Wang clan’s influence, with its deep and tangled roots, would be a real problem if they had treacherous intentions. Xiao Dewen would surely be unable to suppress them. But when he ascended the throne, there would be new imperial relatives by marriage. The new and the old would be incompatible, creating a perfect balance. Furthermore, by then, Seventh Lady would be more politically astute than she was now, and it shouldn’t be difficult for her to win over a portion of the Wang clan’s power. Dewen was of a younger generation and had no conflict with Seventh Lady. But if it were someone like the Prince of Jin, who harbored ulterior motives, Seventh Lady would not necessarily be willing to suppress the maternal relatives for him. In this way, even the budding threat of an overly powerful minister would be snuffed out.

The plan was wonderful. But its implementation would not be easy. The Emperor naturally knew the difficulties and didn’t expect to achieve it overnight. He planned to proceed gently, through subtle influence. As for the princes, he had to make them accept their fate—to preserve their lives and retain a lifetime of wealth and honor. They couldn’t blame him, their father, for being ruthless. Matters of the court changed in an instant; a few years of slow implementation would be enough to turn seas into mulberry fields.

The Emperor only hoped that Heaven would grant him a few more years of life to arrange these matters.

Since the Emperor had a plan in mind, his handling of political affairs was bound to show some bias. By autumn, the Prince of Zhao vaguely sensed that his affairs seemed to be stagnating, not proceeding as smoothly as before. However, this stagnation wasn’t very obvious. Besides, looking at the Prince of Jing—a few days ago, a governor under his patronage had bungled a matter and been dismissed by His Majesty. In comparison, his own minor hindrances were not worth worrying about. He felt more schadenfreude than anything else.

The matter that governor had bungled was precisely the great affair of the autumn harvest.

Long before the first winter wheat had ripened, Puyang had gone to the palace. Others who had matters to report had to write memorials and submit them through layers of bureaucracy. Puyang did not; she went empty-handed to report to the Emperor in person.

“This year is dry, and the crops are not growing well. I’ve heard from my subordinates that the wheat grains are shriveled. I fear we won’t harvest much. The court needs to allocate grain to prepare for emergencies.”

The governor of Gunzhou was a good official who pleaded for the people. Puyang took the matter from his letter to heart and specifically wrote to several other prefectures to inquire. The year’s conditions were indeed poor. Fearing that the people would suffer from hunger if preparations weren’t made in advance, she went to the palace early to report it.

Puyang was the first to report this matter. The Emperor took it to heart and asked the other ministers during court. How could capital officials be completely clear on local affairs? They needed reports from below to respond. The Chancellor, who oversaw the entire court, knew something of it and confirmed that what Puyang said was true. But few others were aware of the situation.

At that time, the Emperor became quite angry. Suppressing his rage, he assigned tasks, ordering all prefectures to do a good job of drought prevention. As a result, despite these advance precautions, people still starved to death under that governor’s jurisdiction. Not only that, but he also sent a letter to the capital, asking the Prince of Jing to intervene on his behalf, hoping to cover the matter up.

The Emperor cherished his reputation and could not tolerate being deceived. The matter was exposed in court by a censor aligned with the Prince of Dai. The Emperor was furious, immediately dismissing the governor and blaming the Prince of Jing, issuing an edict to denounce him harshly.

With a governor dismissed and a vassal prince reprimanded, the court officials acted with more caution, and the atmosphere in the capital grew tense.

In this situation, however, one person was very excited: Xiao Dewen.

He felt that over the past few months, His Majesty seemed to care for him a little more, summoning him often, asking about his studies, and even once mentioning important court affairs to him.

He keenly sensed the Emperor’s change. He was both happy and proud, yet also afraid he might have misinterpreted it, so he hurried to the Princess’s residence to seek advice. His treatment at the Princess’s residence had improved considerably. Before, he couldn’t stay for half an hour; now, he could barely manage to sit for half an hour.

Wei Xiu disliked him and would send him away as soon as she finished speaking, not bothering with him.

Xiao Dewen was a meticulous person and naturally noticed this. However, for one, Wei Xiu’s words were always accurate, and following her advice always brought unexpected benefits. For another, she never mentioned wanting any reward, which made her seem very upright and reliable. Xiao Dewen thus assumed that her distance from him was due to her lofty character, and her not letting him stay long was likely out of fear of attracting attention.

He had actually managed to convince himself.

His eyes shone, and he barely concealed his excitement as he described what he had felt recently. Though he wanted to appear calm and composed, his speech still quickened. “Sir, does His Majesty truly…” He swallowed nervously and said in a trembling voice, “Truly intend to appoint me?”

Wei Xiu said unhurriedly, “What if he intends to appoint you, and what if he does not?”

She spoke so lightly, so nonchalantly, like a basin of cold water poured over Xiao Dewen’s head. He was immediately displeased, but he was in the habit of pondering Wei Xiu’s words. As he did, his anger vanished, replaced by alarm. He knelt on the mat opposite Wei Xiu and said, uncertain and alarmed, “Sir, are you saying His Majesty is testing me?”

“True gold fears no fire. If you do your duty, you can stand tall and act with integrity whether His Majesty tests you or not. But if you deviate from your duty and displease His Majesty, you can be deposed even if you are already the Crown Prince,” Wei Xiu said slowly, turning to look at Xiao Dewen. “Do you understand?”

She was holding a sword in her hand, which she had been admiring before Xiao Dewen arrived. The sword was named Yuchang, the Fish Intestine Sword. “That which goes against reason and order cannot be submitted to. A subject uses it to kill his lord, a son to kill his father.” Legend had it that this sword was an assassin’s blade, used for regicide and patricide.

Xiao Dewen had been enlightened by Wei Xiu’s words and was thinking with a pounding heart whether he had overstepped his bounds recently. At this moment, he slowly lowered his head and saw the Fish Intestine Sword. The blade was short, incomparably tough steel, and its edge glinted with a cold light. When the light reflected in his eyes, a chill ran through him.

“This nephew understands,” he said hurriedly, a look of lingering fear on his face.

Wei Xiu sheathed the sword and placed it on a nearby table. She glanced at Xiao Dewen’s face and said with a smile, “You want to guess His Majesty’s thoughts. Even if you guess correctly, don’t show it. Whatever he wants, you strive to do it well. It’s fine to be a little slow on the uptake, but you must never act clever.”

Xiao Dewen meekly agreed.

“And the princes—you must be deferential to them as well. Even if you are fortunate enough to reside in the Eastern Palace, you must not become arrogant or extravagant. Endure it for now. There will come a time when you are in charge.”

Xiao Dewen’s spirits rose again. He carved her every word into his heart and reflected on his own actions. Yesterday, when he saw his uncle, the Prince of Jin, he had indeed been careless. He should have been more deferential. Endure for a moment; once he gained power, would he fear not being able to get his own back!

Seeing him pondering to himself, Wei Xiu gave a scornful smile, picked up the Fish Intestine Sword, and went into the inner chamber.

Xiao Dewen knew this was a signal for him to leave. Although he wanted to ask a few more questions, he didn’t dare impose. He could only bow respectfully toward the curtain of the inner chamber and withdraw.

When A Rong saw him leave, she entered the inner chamber to report, “The Prince has left.”

Wei Xiu acknowledged with a sound, indicating she knew.

A Rong’s gaze shifted to the sword. Wei Xiu had acquired it by chance three or four years ago. She didn’t know why she had taken it out today.

Wei Xiu slipped the sword into her sleeve. It was the perfect size, unnoticeable to others and not hindering her movements. Looking up and seeing A Rong hadn’t left, she asked, “Is there anything else?”

A Rong replied, “Sir, the plot of land you wanted has become available.”

“Oh…” Wei Xiu realized. “Buy it, then.”

“Yes.” A Rong accepted the order. But she was still puzzled. After a moment’s hesitation, she asked doubtfully, “What does Sir want that land for? The fields there are already enough for the clansmen to cultivate.”

The close branches of the Zhong clan had all been wiped out, but some more distant relatives remained. Wei Xiu had specially bought a piece of land. The bones of her relatives could not be recovered, so she had erected a cenotaph with their robes and caps. She had also chosen a few children from the closest bloodlines to be adopted into the main lineage to continue the ancestral sacrifices.

But that place was already well-settled, with more than enough fields and houses. She didn’t know why Wei Xiu wanted to buy more land.

Wei Xiu chuckled and said to her gently, “That whole area is fertile land. I wanted it back then, but unfortunately, the owner wouldn’t sell, and we couldn’t very well seize it by force. Now that he’s finally willing to sell, don’t ask any more questions. Hurry and buy it. If you’re late, I’m afraid it will be gone again.”

She only urged her to go, without explaining. A Rong had no choice but to go and make the arrangements.

Author’s Notes:

The Fish Intestine Sword, used by Zhuan Zhu to assassinate King Liao.

Wei Xiu will use it to stab someone in the future.