Chapter 13: The Emperor’s Favor (1)

The next day, by the Taiye Pool in the Imperial Garden, Empress Chen Zhao was chatting casually with Princess Tianxiang.

“Your Majesty, if you ever get the chance, you must meet Master Peony! I’ve never seen such a beautiful man in my life!”

Princess Tianxiang spoke eloquently, heaping praise upon Jiang Qionglin, Master Peony, sparking fantasies among the surrounding eunuchs and palace maids. Even Chen Zhao couldn’t help but chuckle behind her hand.

“Your Majesty, don’t dismiss it so lightly! Last night, Prince Wu left in a jealous rage!”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes! It puzzled me too! Apparently, one of Prince Wu’s friends was chosen by Master Peony. He left me at the Jingzhao Prefecture and stormed off, muttering, ‘I refuse to believe some male courtesan can outshine my charm!’“

Chen Zhao wore an expression of surprise, nodding slowly as though she had just heard something extraordinary.

At this moment, Consort Shu’s palanquin arrived nearby. Seeing the group deep in conversation, she stepped out with only a personal maid in tow.

“Your humble servant pays respects to Your Majesty. May Your Majesty enjoy ten thousand blessings.” Consort Shu bowed respectfully.

Chen Zhao’s face hardened as she replied indifferently, “Rise, Consort Shu.”

The air froze in that instant. Everyone knew of the strained relationship between Chen Zhao and Consort Shu.

The reason was simple: Consort Shu, Ling Xuewei, was Chen Zhao’s niece. Though they entered the palace around the same time, the younger niece quickly rose to prominence, basking in imperial favor.

The root of their conflict lay with the late Emperor Xian, and the catalyst was a well-known palace secret.

Ling Xuewei, Consort Shu, was ten years younger than Chen Zhao and in the prime of her youth. Twenty years ago, during Chen Zhao’s imprisonment, the Chen family sent Ling Xuewei to the then-Prince Xian. Not long after, she was bestowed the title of Consort Shu.

Emperor Xian doted on her endlessly, spending every waking moment by her side. Even after Chen Zhao returned, his affection for her waned significantly.

Over time, no matter how many beauties came and went in Prince Xian’s court, Ling Xuewei remained the apple of his eye. Within less than a decade, there were whispers of deposing Chen Zhao and elevating Ling Xuewei to empress.

It was then that Emperor Xian suddenly fell gravely ill and passed away shortly thereafter.

Before his death, he left a decree stating: Regardless of any offense committed by Consort Ling Xuewei, her position as consort could not be revoked, and she was to remain in the Moon Pavilion, living out her days in comfort until her natural death.

The Moon Pavilion had always been the residence of empresses throughout the dynasties. This decree was a slap in the face to Chen Zhao.

Thus, despite her resentment, the decree shielded Ling Xuewei, who also had the backing of the Ling family. Though the Ling family’s influence had waned, their entrenched power within the court remained formidable.

Imperial governance required balance, and for the greater good, Chen Zhao, regardless of her hatred, could not overtly act against her.

After Emperor Xian’s death, Chen Zhao’s eldest son ascended the throne but died mysteriously three months later. Her second son succeeded him but was deposed for negligence. In the same year, Chen Zhao, supported by military officials and high-ranking bureaucrats from humble backgrounds, ascended the throne as emperor, renaming the dynasty Xuanwu.

Even as empress, the stubborn conservatives continued to elevate Consort Shu, lauding her as virtuous, righteous, and a paragon of womanhood. These accolades subtly mocked Chen Zhao, insinuating that a woman ruling was against propriety.

Every time Chen Zhao saw Consort Shu, memories of humiliation flooded back.

Unaware of Chen Zhao’s thoughts, Consort Shu smiled warmly and said, “Princess Tianxiang is as beautiful as rumored, and her command of the Han language is impeccable.”

“Thank you for your praise, Consort,” Princess Tianxiang curtsied, and Consort Shu immediately helped her rise.

“What were you discussing? You seemed so delighted.” Consort Shu inquired further.

Princess Tianxiang repeated her earlier words, and Consort Shu’s eyes lit up with unusual excitement, as if a barren tree had blossomed.

Chen Zhao sat aside, admiring the scenery of the Imperial Garden without interrupting.

She was well aware that Consort Shu had a fondness for handsome men, so her interest in Master Peony was expected.

Consort Shu, long secluded in the palace, often entertained false eunuchs, and whatever nocturnal activities they engaged in, she neither cared nor questioned. After all, with the decree protecting her, any transgressions were forgivable.

At this moment, Wu Rui’an, who visited Princess Tianxiang daily, arrived at the Taiye Pool. After greeting everyone, Consort Shu warmly took his hand and said, “An’er, you’ve arrived just in time. I hear you took Princess Tianxiang to see ‘Master Peony’ yesterday? What is he like? Does he live up to the rumors?”

Wu Rui’an’s face darkened as he nodded solemnly, replying, “A man who serves through beauty is no different from a prostitute! He disgraces the proud sons of our Xuanwu Kingdom!”

After speaking, he turned to Empress Chen Zhao and said, “Your humble servant requests that you issue an edict to shut down Huan Yi Pavilion entirely, nipping this immoral trend in the bud before it spreads further!”

“Is that so?” Chen Zhao smiled enigmatically. “Previously, I heard Master Peony described as otherworldly, and I didn’t believe it. But seeing your jealousy today, it seems he truly is a beauty beyond mortal comprehension.” As she spoke, the group exchanged glances, suppressing laughter.

“...” Wu Rui’an flushed awkwardly, realizing his feelings had been exposed, and chose not to respond further.

“This trend should indeed not flourish, but existence implies legitimacy. Without significant offenses, what justification is there to shut it down? Moreover, I am a woman myself. For thousands of years, there has never been a female emperor until now. This sets a precedent in our dynasty—what is improper about that?”

Wu Rui’an was startled, realizing his misstep, and quickly apologized, “Your humble servant spoke rashly. Please forgive me, Mother Empress.”

Chen Zhao laughed heartily, waving her hand dismissively. “Relax, I was merely jesting with you.”

Wu Rui’an sighed, finding himself surrounded by women and feeling bored. He excused himself, saying, “Your humble servant has matters to attend to. I shall take my leave.”

“Go ahead,” Chen Zhao waved her hand.

“I shall also take my leave!” Princess Tianxiang followed Wu Rui’an, and their harmonious demeanor brought some comfort to Chen Zhao.

After their departure, only Empress Chen Zhao and Consort Shu remained in the Imperial Garden.

The two bore a resemblance, but there was a ten-year age gap. While Chen Zhao was in her forties, Consort Shu was in her thirties, in the prime of youth.

Chen Zhao gazed at the alluring yet demure Consort Shu, remarking enviously, “Consort Shu remains youthful and beautiful, making me quite envious.”

“Your Majesty, why envy me?” Consort Shu lazily remarked. “I still remember the days of Your Majesty’s prime—your hair was seven chi long, its luster so radiant it could serve as a mirror. You were dazzling every day, the most favored in the imperial harem. Though time has passed like a white colt glimpsing through a crevice, vanishing in the blink of an eye, your brilliance remains forever etched in my heart. Like the peonies in this garden, you always outshone all others.”

Chen Zhao shook her head and smiled. “Outshining others is good, but ultimately, it’s just women comparing themselves to one another. Beauty fades with age, and youth is fleeting—it’s all but an illusion, like flowers reflected in a mirror or the moon on water.”

“Does Your Majesty truly wish to live like this for the rest of your life?” Ling Xuewei pressed. “You exhaust yourself daily, yet no one may appreciate your efforts. Why live so constrained? Just the other day, some servants sent over two fair-skinned, handsome young men. Perhaps...”

“There’s no need,” Chen Zhao interrupted, shaking her head with a smile. “You, protected by the late emperor’s decree, can indulge in pleasures, but I cannot.”

“You are the emperor! How can you not?”

“Only after ascending the throne did I realize how vast the world could be, that women need not confine themselves daily to embroidery and romantic entanglements. We can command the land and wield power just as men do.” Chen Zhao chuckled softly, not caring whether Ling Xuewei understood. With that, she turned and walked away.

As she passed the intersection, beside Consort Shu’s carriage stood two handsome eunuchs with rosy lips and white teeth—the very pair Consort Shu had mentioned earlier.

“Your humble servants pay respects to Your Majesty,” they stammered, trembling visibly. Their voices were loud and robust, unlike those of castrated eunuchs, confirming Chen Zhao’s suspicions about their identities.

“Raise your heads,” Chen Zhao commanded, halting her steps.

Slowly, they lifted their heads. Their lips were as red as cinnabar, their eyes sparkling like stars—a truly stunning pair of male courtesans.

One of them trembled, biting his lower lip nervously, murmuring something inaudible. Just one glance stirred an indescribable itch in the heart.

Chen Zhao turned back to Ling Xuewei, who was smiling at her, her gaze seemingly saying, “If Your Majesty likes them, take them. This servant won’t mind.”

Hmph. Mortals. Beautiful, yes, but utterly uninteresting.

With a flick of her sleeve, Chen Zhao left.

That night, at the hour of You, music and dancing echoed from the Moon Pavilion halfway through the night. Lying in bed, Chen Zhao listened to the distant melodies. No matter if her eyes were open or closed, images of those two handsome youths haunted her, preventing her from finding rest.

Beside her, the palace maid An Suyun lit a lantern and asked, “Is Your Majesty feeling unwell?”

Chen Zhao sighed and shook her head.

She rose from the bed and sat before the bronze mirror. Though her reflection still retained traces of beauty, stripped of all adornments, she couldn’t help but notice how weary she looked. Especially that strand of silver hair at her temple—it wasn’t conspicuous, but it stung her heart deeply.

And then there was Ling Xuewei. She hadn’t aged or lost her charm; instead, she had grown even more radiant. If she had once been a bud waiting to bloom, she was now in full flower, evoking jealousy.

And here she was, in her prime, having risen to become the first person of her era, yet unable to live freely.

On the court floor, she could trample all the men underfoot, but at night, she remained just a woman.

No woman could thrive without affection and care.

“Accompany me for a walk,” Chen Zhao said.

“To the Imperial Garden, or the Taiji Palace?” An Suyun asked.

Chen Zhao shook her head. “Fetch two sets of men’s clothing. I wish to leave the palace for a stroll.”

An Suyun was startled. “This late? Should we notify the imperial guards?”

“Just a casual walk. No need to make a fuss.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As Chen Zhao combed her hair, she suddenly remembered something and called out, “Bring me Han Yue’s painting, The Spring Tree and a Hundred Flowers in Full Bloom. “

“Yes.” An Suyun immediately set to work preparing.

An hour later, when An Suyun drove the carriage to Huan Yi Pavilion, it was nearing midnight. The two, dressed in men’s attire, stepped down from the carriage.

Lady Xu, seeing their distinguished air, immediately waved her handkerchief and greeted them with a smile. “Are the two ‘gentlemen’ here seeking entertainment at my Huan Yi Pavilion?” She emphasized the word ‘gentlemen,’ clearly recognizing their true identities.

The two made no effort to conceal themselves. An Suyun spoke frankly: “Our mistress has heard of Master Peony’s fame and wishes to see him in person. Please grant us this favor.”

Upon hearing that they sought Jiang Qionglin, Lady Xu’s expression shifted. She scrutinized the pair carefully.

Their hats were plain, and they wore no discernible ornaments—this raised her suspicions. What if they couldn’t afford the price? She would have wasted her expressions.

The two remained calm and composed under her scrutiny. After observing them for a while, noting their unhurried demeanor and evident refinement, Lady Xu deduced they must hail from wealthy families. Smiling apologetically, she asked, “May I inquire as to the name of the esteemed lady?”

“Yuehua.”

“Ah, Lady Yuehua. Please, come inside.” Lady Xu stepped aside, ushering them forward.

“Thank you.”

“Lady, watch your step,” An Suyun reminded. Yuehua nodded slightly and gracefully leapt over the threshold.

It was indeed quite late. Taiping Prefecture imposed a curfew, and few women dared wander outside at night.

Lady Yuehua’s bearing was one thing, but venturing out at this hour suggested significant backing. Being caught by the Jingzhao Prefecture wouldn’t be easily resolved, so Lady Xu felt a mix of awe and respect toward her.

“Lady Yuehua, perhaps you’re unaware,” Lady Xu began, her tone sincere. “Yesterday was our Master’s opening night, but the young lady from last night left without bidding farewell. Our Master hasn’t entertained any guests since! Moreover, he fell ill this morning. It’s uncertain if he’s fully recovered. He might not be able to entertain you tonight…”

“Suyun,” Yuehua called softly.

An Suyun immediately understood. From her sleeve, she produced a thumb-sized South Pearl and placed it on the table.

Lady Xu’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

A pearl of this size could easily cover her entire income for a month!

“How fares Master Jiang’s health now?” An Suyun asked coolly.

“He’s better! Completely better!” Lady Xu nodded vigorously, cradling the pearl as she hurried upstairs.