When Xie Jing woke up, his head was foggy as though a hundred Lu Ai were outside singing at full volume.
He knew they had woken up a bit late, and he knew that after having two children, both his and Lu Lingcong’s status in the family had been pushed to the back. Furthermore, he knew that everyone in the household tacitly agreed that the noise made by Lu Shuqing and Lu Shuning playing could not be counted as noise.
But in truth there was only one Lu Ai; Lu Shuning and with the young maidservants of the inner courtyard fussing over her like she was a ragdoll, they could rival ninety-nine Lu Ai together. It was a sight that could only be called a great family honor, enough to leave one in astonishment.
Xie Jing hastily pulled on his clothes, got out of bed, and went to open the door; on the way, he simply stepped over Lu Lingcong’s chest, who was still half-asleep and bleary-eyed.
The moment the door opened, Lu Shuning swept in like a whirlwind with Lu Ai indeed chasing after her like a slingshot. Before anyone could see her clearly, the former had already swept through the room and back out before cleverly pulling the door shut behind her to block her “pursuer.” Lu Ai failed to brake in time and knock on the door panel with a loud *thud*, making Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing shudder simultaneously. They watched as the dizzy bird circled twice in place before changing direction to find another way, shooting out through a window that had just been cracked open.
Lu Lingcong collapsed back onto the bed, covered his face with a pillow, and muttered unclearly, “I think everyone has gone mad.”
Xie Jing could no longer sleep. He sat down at the dressing table to freshen up and called outside, “Yin Chou, help me hold them down! How many times have I said they aren’t allowed in the garden before eating breakfast?”
Yin Chou was busy intercepting Lu Shuning and had no time to mind him. Hearing the movement, the young girl on the porch turned around, her face flushed from running, and spoke in a clear, lively voice, “Princess Consort, it will be time for lunch in a quarter of an hour!”
Xie Jing was speechless. He glanced up at the sun already high in the sky and silently closed the window.
At two and a half years old, Lu Shuning was already well-versed in running and jumping, making up for everything her brother had missed in his own childhood. Wuyi Lane, Mingluan Hall, and Prince Zhao’s Mansion naturally regarded this young daughter as a precious pearl, even though her birth had not been entirely within expectations.
The year they returned from Chen Commandery, although the emperor did not assign any official duties to Lu Lingcong, he had Xie Jing registered in the Department of State Affair to assist Grand Tutor Zhang with the arrangements for the following year’s special imperial examinations. Xie Jing remained busy until the conclusion of the palace examinations in the thirteenth year of Zhenyou.
Every spring examination season was the busiest time for social networking in the capital. The newly successful candidates navigated potential career paths and marriage alliances, engaging in mutual selection with court officials and noble families. Even though Xie Jing was already being quite “sluggish” in his work, he still found himself frequently forced to attend such social occasions. Even an ordinary official of the Department of State Affair would inevitably stand out due to the special mentor-disciple relationship between examiners and students, let alone Xie Jing, who had the added status of Princess Consort Zhao, placing him right at the heart of the storm.
Xie Jing did not want to wait for the emperor to notice his forced “activity” and issue a warning; by then, it would be too late. Just as he was pondering a way to extricate himself, Lu Shuning arrived.
He practically rushed into the palace with joy, resigning from his duties at the Department of State Affair immediately. Furthermore, since Lu Lingzhang was now older and spent most of his time studying under great scholars at the Imperial Academy, Xie Jing only visited every few days. He decided to cancel his daytime lectures at Linhai Hall as well and become completely free of responsibilities.
Although Lu Lingcong rose late, he dressed faster than Xie Jing and was the first to enter the dining hall. Lu Shuqing was leaning over the dining table, absorbed in a legend story book while eating fermented rice recently taken from the ice cellar. Lu Lingcong asked, “If you fill your stomach with cold food now, what will you do about lunch?”
Lu Shuqing peeked and saw that Xie Jing was still in the room and hadn’t noticed him, so he pushed the remaining half-bowl of fermented rice to his father and blocked his face with his upright book: “Then I won’t eat anymore.”
After the meal, seasonal fruits were served as usual. A jewel-red glazed bowl held sugar-preserved green plums, while a crystal plate shaped like a banana leaf held crimson cherries; the vibrant reds and greens complemented each other, flooding the eyes with rich color.
Lu Shuqing, who usually lingered until the very end, had already eaten and drunk his fill. He rolled up his book and left the table, making Xie Jing wonder: “Why aren’t you eating fruit today?”
Without looking up, Lu Shuqing nearly walked into a pillar as he descended the steps. Only then did he lift his gaze to check the path before turning back with a smile: “Auntie said to eat less raw and cold food.”
Bamboo mats were spread out in the inner courtyard in the afternoon. Yin Chou was drying medicinal herbs while the weather was good. Lu Lingcong sat sideways nearby with Lu Shuning on his lap to teach her to recognize the names of the herbs. A small plot in the garden had been specially set aside as a medicinal nursery for Yin Chou. Lu Shuqing often followed her to tend the plants; Yin Chou had given him some seeds to manage entirely on his own with mixed results. Last summer, when he suffered from heatstroke, he had even used the agastache he grew himself.
Xie Jing walked into the inner study and glanced at the book in Lu Shuqing’s hand as he passed by. Finding it to be [In Search of the Supernatural], he understood why the boy was so enthralled that he forgot to eat and sleep. He remarked casually, “Your grandfather has an illustrated edition; when you’re finished with that, you can go to Wuyi Lane to borrow it.”
He didn’t actually supervise what his son read; both his and Lu Lingcong’s studies were completely open to Lu Shuqing, allowing him to pick whatever he could understand. Lu Shuqing’s situation was different from that of his parents; having been thrust into the center of power too early and subjected to excessive attention and favor, the two of them instead hoped he would restrain his brilliance rather than being too outstanding.
Lu Shuqing informed them, “By the way, I made plans with Uncle, Aunt, and Cousin to go to Mount Mei tomorrow for an outing to see the deer.”
Hearing him mention the excursion, Xie Jing remembered to ask, “I left that Flower-Drenched Stationery you liked on the table the other day; did you see it? We are hosting a banquet in the garden next month for the Dragon Boat Festival. Have you finished writing the invitations for your friends?”
While Lu Shuqing wasn’t exactly the type to constantly gather crowds, he had a significant circle of friends among his peers from official and noble families. He nodded. “Everyone has replied, except for the Wang family.”
Xie Jing thought of that quiet, refined young girl who had only visited Prince Zhao’s Mansion a few times and sighed, “I forgot to caution you. Ah Huang’s family is… not quite like ours. Sending a letter might cause her trouble.”
Lu Shuqing did not yet understand what “trouble” could possibly befall his friends, who were all pampered, high-born children of privilege; but hearing his mother’s solemn tone, he could only nod to show he understood.
The mother and son sat across from each other, spending the mid-afternoon in peace; aside from Xie Jing occasionally reminding Lu Shuqing to drink water, there was no other sound. When the sun began to shine diagonally across a corner of the desk, Lu Shuqing suddenly sneezed. Xie Jing looked up alertly only to find that Lu Lingcong had leaned against the window outside at some point and was lightly tickling Lu Shuqing’s nose with a stalk of fuzzy foxtail grass.
Xie Jing knitted his brows at him, “You just insist on bothering people!”
“Ai, spring is no time for reading.” Lu Lingcong plucked two stalks of grass with his long fingers, deftly weaving them back and forth.
“What about Ningning?”
“She’s in the flower hall watching Yin Chou string jasmine necklaces for her, I can’t even budge her,” he said while handing the rabbit he had woven from foxtail grass to Lu Shuqing. “Want to go try out your new bow?”
Lu Shuqing stretched, nodded in agreement, and bent over to put on his shoes, intending to exit through the main door of the study and take the covered walkway to the garden.
“Why take the long way around?” Lu Lingcong grabbed his arm to let him use the leverage to vault over the windowsill. “Come on down!”
Xie Jing watched this method of exit with disapproval. When he snapped back to attention, he found both of them staring at him and immediately said, “I am absolutely not going through here—”
Before he could finish, Lu Lingcong had already reached through the window and drawn close before practically hoisting Xie Jing’s upper body over his shoulder. “You’re coming down too!”
He lifted Xie Jing out without taking no for an answer. Xie Jing cried out in surprise as he leaned over his shoulder; someone’s long hair brushed against the tips of the wisteria, shaking down a shower of lavender-colored rain that covered his sleeves.
Lu Lingcong had a skilled craftsman make a lightweight bow for Lu Shuqing, whose height, strength, and arm span all fell short. Though small in size, the bow was well-proportioned, its limbs crafted from fine yew wood; far more valuable than the standard-issue weapons used by the capital garrison and the Imperial Guards.
Lu Shuqing’s riding and archery had been taught personally by his father and aunt. Though he couldn’t claim any grand achievements yet due to his age and physical limitations, his fundamentals were exceptionally solid. His posture was beyond reproach, and his stance was also impressive enough to be quite intimidating.
Xie Jing had originally been standing across from the father and son, intending to appreciate the teaching session from a bystander’s perspective, when he heard Lu Lingcong call out to him:
“What are you standing over there for? Do you want to be a live target?”
Xie Jing had no choice but to walk back. “Which ‘Highness’ claims to be able to pierce a willow leaf from a hundred paces and never misses? With such a large living person and such a short distance, are you actually afraid of hitting me?”
Lu Lingcong, however, turned directly to Lu Shuqing. “Remember this as a ready lesson: no matter how close the distance, the arrowhead must never point toward your own people. Archery is a struggle for victory against the wind—and the wind is the most irrational thing of all.”
Steward Zhou was just about to lock the main gate late at night past the curfew hour, when an unexpected visitor suddenly arrived at the Zhao Prince’s residence.
Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing rushed to the front hall to find Zhong Zhao standing with his hands down while smiling. On the table beside him sat a square box of vermilion lacquer and ebony.
“His Majesty sent you to deliver this? At this hour?” Xie Jing asked suspiciously after hearing his purpose.
Zhong Zhao bowed his head. “It is absolutely true. This humble one did not dare delay for a moment; as soon as this humble one received the order, this humble one rushed here from Shenlong Hall.”
Everyone in the capital knew the emperor was ill, and no one knew why; instead of recuperating properly, he would suddenly think of sending something to Prince Zhao’s Mansion in the middle of the night.
On New Year’s Eve a few months prior, impatient with the boring and lengthy vigil, Xie Jing had quietly snuck his children out of the palace to play in the South Market all night. He had assumed there would be at least some nagging from the palace afterward, if not a settling of accounts, but as it turned out, the Son of Heaven’s condition worsened, and no one had the energy to care about their minor breach of rules.
For a time, unease spread and rumors ran rampant; the emperor’s condition became the foremost concern among all the nobles of Jinling. Naturally, their concern was never truly for any so-called “imperial peace”; rather, with their keen political sensibilities, they had already perceived that in such a moment, talk of naming an heir was bound to quietly arise within the palace. The stability of their own clans for the next century hinged on this single, crucial choice of whose side to take.
Lu Lingcong lifted a hand in silent command, and the attendants and maids promptly withdrew one after another. Uncle Zhou was the last to step out before shutting the main hall doors with finality, leaving only the three of them inside.
Zhong Zhao let out a small “err” and said with slight hesitation, “His Majesty instructed this humble one to exclude all ‘outsiders’ and ensure this is delivered steadily into Your Highness’s hands.”
Lu Lingcong’s gaze, along with Zhong Zhao’s, fell upon Xie Jing. Xie Jing was a beat slow to react before saying, “Oh, then I shall excuse myself.”
As he turned to leave, Lu Lingcong suddenly spoke up, “Wait.”
Xie Jing looked back and heard him say to Zhong Zhao, “Zhiwu is not an outsider. My Princess Consort and I are of one heart and mind; there are no secrets between us. Whatever it is, it can be given in the presence of Princess Consort.”
Zhong Zhao’s expression became somewhat subtle. After observing them for a moment, he smoothed things over, “That is also true… His Majesty did not explicitly say it could not be done in front of the Princess Consort either.”
He respectfully presented the wooden box. Lu Lingcong casually opened the lid, only to find a smaller brocade casket inside.
He frowned. “So tightly packed?”
He continued stripping away the layers until he reached the innermost lining of bright yellow silk. His movements hesitated for a split second, and he glanced back at Xie Jing, who had been watching silently.
“…Your Highness?” Zhong Zhao prompted.
Xie Jing looked back at him and simply nodded. Lu Lingcong no longer wavered and lifted the final covering: it was a translucent, flawless, and lustrously white jade seal. At first glance, aside from the superior quality of the jade, there seemed to be nothing else unusual about it.
Yet when Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing both made out the eight seal-script characters inscribed upon it—“By the Mandate of Heaven, may it enjoy long life and eternal prosperity”—they both drew in a sharp breath at once.
Xie Jing took a half-step back and said coldly, “What exactly does His Majesty intend by this!?”
Zhong Zhao, however, remained unhurried. “Would you two care to look a bit more closely?”
Lu Lingcong frowned. He pinched the seal wrapped in its lining lightly while holding it between his fingers and observed it through the candlelight for a moment before suddenly remarking, “This is made of Lantian jade.”
Zhong Zhao clapped his hands in praise. “Your Highness has a keen eye. Though this fine Lantian jade is worth a fortune, it still pales in comparison when set beside the Heshi Bi.”
Xie Jing already understood his implication: “Legend has it that in the Qin Dynasty, the First Emperor had two Imperial Seals of State carved; one from the famed Heshi Bi, the other from Lantian jade. The former was the true seal, while the latter was merely a ‘fisheye’ decoy meant to deceive. Since then, every dynasty has taken possession of the Heshi Bi as the mark of rightful sovereignty.”
Zhong Zhao nodded. “These two seals, one real and one fake, have anchored the Taichu Palace for over a hundred years since the founding of our state. The Heshi Bi concerns the very foundations of the altars of soil and grain; His Majesty naturally could not easily ‘invite’ it out of the inner palace. But this one—” he added with a meaningful tone. “It may be a counterfeit, yet it cannot be called anything but a good omen, still less could it ever be deemed a bad one.”
Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing exchanged a look; neither touched the Lantian jade Imperial Seal again.
To put it plainly, no matter how precious a beautiful jade might be, its value is finite. What truly allowed the Heshi Bi to transcend being a mere “jade disk” were those two phrases representing the divine right of kings.
“Zhong Zhao,” Lu Lingcong said after a long pause, “though this jade is not the Heshi Bi, those eight unmistakable characters are not inscribed without weight. If I were to accept this object now, whose ‘Mandate of Heaven’ would I be claiming?”
Zhong Zhao hinted tactfully, “His Majesty sent this humble one here through the night to deliver this treasure; which ‘Heaven’ do you think it is? It is the very Heaven above our heads.”
“Even if His Majesty truly has such intentions,” Xie Jing said, “it should not be at this time with. His Majesty’s blessings are vast, and he is in the prime of his life; why should he ‘deposit’ this seal here at our Prince Zhao’s Mansion?”
He placed heavy emphasis on several words in the latter half of his sentence, especially the word “deposit,” making no effort to hide his desire to distance them from the matter and remain uninvolved.
Zhong Zhao choked for a moment, then simply offered a compensatory smile. “His Majesty said himself that the future is long; as for what the situation will be then, we shall see when the time comes. But these eight characters do not only have a historical origin; they carry His Majesty’s expectations. Do you both understand the profound meaning within?”
Lu Lingcong reflected in silence. It was clear the emperor had not committed himself fully based on how Zhong Zhao’s relaying of the words. Sending this counterfeit Imperial Seal to Lu Lingcong did not mean it was a settled matter that he would be the crown prince. Perhaps there were two counterfeit seals, and the other was currently being sent to Linhai Hall. Lu Lingzhang was fifteen this year, an age where he could establish his own residence and involve himself in politics.
This vague and ambiguous attitude was baffling, yet a gift from the Son of Heaven carried the weight of an imperial edict; they could not refuse it.
Lu Lingcong returned the seal to its original place after a long while. He walked to the semi-circular silk tree table by the west wall of the main hall, opened the sword casket resting upon it, placed the lacquer box into the empty bottom compartment, and locked it again.
He turned and said, “I carry the key to this sword casket with me, while the Princess Consort holds the other. Today, I placed this seal here in concealment. This matter is known only to His Majesty, to my Princess Consort and myself, and to you, Zhong Zhao. The Son of Heaven is wise; therefore, if any trouble arises from this seal in the future, it can only originate from among the three of us. My Princess Consort and I will naturally be prudent and cautious—Zhong Zhao, you must also weigh this clearly.”
Zhong Zhao put on a perfectly measured, impeccable smile. “This humble one shall keep it engraved in my heart.”
