“Autumn Water, there will probably be a good opportunity next spring to silence the ministers,” Wei Linxia said.
“Hmm? What?” Xi Linxuan, sitting in a rocking chair looking out at the scenery, did not appear interested.
“Western frontier rebellion, imperial expedition,” Wei Linxia said slowly, each word weighing heavily.
Xi Linxuan sat up straight: “No, let them look down on me.”
“We must go,” Wei Linxia insisted.
“Not going,” he replied.
Wei Linxia picked up a bright yellow imperial edict from the table and walked to Xi Linxuan’s side, placing it in his hand with determination: “We’re going. For me, you must go.”
The scroll was thrown to the ground with a dull sound.
“Wei Chenbi, I’m not going,” Xi Linxuan turned away.
Wei Linxia laughed softly and met her gaze, noticing the reluctance in his eyes.
“Oh? How bold, daring to curse the mother of a nation,” Xi Linxuan said, pounding the bed.
Wei Linxia remained silent, watching Xi Linxuan pretend to be angry.
“If I were to abdicate the throne to you, they’d mock me for laying eggs like a rooster. How infuriating,” Xi Linxuan continued.
“Getting angry right after waking up is bad for your health. Don’t be upset; have some hot soup,” Wei Linxia said, carefully blowing on the soup before feeding Xi Linxuan.
“Qiushui, will you go to court tomorrow? I’ll wait for you in the side hall and prepare some snacks,” Wei Linxia asked.
“Sure, it’ll be a good chance to see those people’s faces,” Xi Linxuan replied.
The next day, during the regular court session, Xi Linxuan wasn’t wearing official robes, and Wei Linxia was in her palace attire, waiting in the side hall, listening to the drum music and the distinctive long tones of the ministers from the main hall.
“If I’m not mistaken, the elder has reached retirement age.”
You’ve served the court for over forty years, dedicating yourself tirelessly. Now that you’re advanced in years, you should enjoy your retirement. I won’t trouble you with state affairs anymore.” Xi Linxuan’s voice was slow yet carried undeniable momentum.
Wei Linxia’s lips curved slightly. If this were the first time waiting for Xi Linxuan, one might think he was a thirty-something emperor with a sophisticated demeanor, much like the Grand Emperor.
The elder seemed somewhat indignant as he thanked and left the hall.
After court adjourned, Wei Linxia stood at the hall door to welcome Xi Linxuan. He hurried in and embraced Wei Linxia, saying, “I’m sorry, Shenbi, I’m sorry.”
“The snacks are still warm. They’ll get hard if they cool down. Let’s eat first, and we can talk later.” Wei Linxia pulled away and led him to the meal.
Xi Linxuan silently ate two pastries as Wei Linxia wiped his hands.
“These matters should be handled by men…”
“Didn’t you say husband and wife should support each other in adversity? You also said—” holding his hands gently, “you said this world is ours. If you don’t plan to share it with other women, what does it matter if I bear some criticism? Throughout history, which ruler hasn’t been scolded? You can’t hear posthumous criticism, so why be so cautious in life?”
“Marrying you is my blessing,” Xi Linxuan said sincerely.
“Of course. The fortune-teller said I bring good fortune to my husband, family, and descendants. Whoever marries me has accumulated virtue in their previous life,” Wei Linxia said with pride.
“So you’re just a good dog. Here, have a bone,” Xi Linxuan laughed brightly, but his laughter felt like a final farewell to Wei Linxia.
“Oh, I have something to do,” Wei Linxia stood up, feigning surprise.
“What is it?”
“The memorials should be in the imperial study by now. I’ll go make a report,” Wei Linxia replied.
Autumn arrived suddenly. In Yan Jing south of Qi River, the greens that had endured summer’s heat looked dispirited. Xi Linxuan often accompanied her in reviewing memorials, and his focused gaze unsettled her.
Lately, she had been thinking about something that kept her awake at night.
“Qiushui, there might be a good opportunity to silence the ministers next spring,” Wei Linxia said.
“Hmm? What?” The person in the rocking chair seemed uninterested.
“Rebellion in the Western Frontier. Imperial expedition,” Wei Linxia replied slowly, with each word weighing heavily.
The body that appeared leisurely suddenly sat up straight before relaxing back into the chair: “No, let them look down on me.”
“We must go,” Wei Linxia insisted.
“Not going,” Xi Linxuan replied.
Wei Linxia picked up a bright yellow imperial edict from the table and walked to Xi Linxuan, placing it in his hand: “We’re going. For me, you must go.”
The scroll was thrown to the ground with a dull thud.
“Wei Shengbi, I’m not going,” Xi Linxuan turned away.
Wei Linxia smiled softly, meeting her gaze, sensing his reluctance.
“Do you remember the promise you made? You said you’d give me the most fertile grassland as my territory, build the most beautiful tent there, raise cattle and sheep, pick flowers in spring and summer, hunt roe deer, and cook meat in winter. A gentleman’s word is as good as a fast horse’s whip. You can’t go back on your word. I want you to build my grassland home next year, so when Xi Qi grows up, I’ll have somewhere to go. You’ll wait there, cooking fresh milk and tender lamb for me when I arrive, okay?” Wei Linxia asked.
“No,” Xi Linxuan firmly refused.
Wei Linxia unfolded the imperial edict to reveal Xi Linxuan’s handwriting: “I know I am unwell. The young emperor shall ascend the throne, with the empress dowager to govern until he comes of age. Dated the full moon of the third month, Year Two of Tianjing.” Stamped with the imperial seal.
Chapter 59
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As the year-end approached, Tai Qing expressed her boredom in the South Inner Palace. She had heard the former Emperor was a martial artist and wanted to learn a few moves from him. However, he seemed preoccupied with trimming flowers, painting, and calligraphy like a monk in meditation, leaving her reluctant to wait on him.
Wei Linxia suggested Tai Qing learn cultivation and self-preservation from the former Emperor, but Tai Qing dismissed the idea, saying she didn’t want to live such a lifeless existence. Wei Linxia remained skeptical about the former Emperor’s true cultivation and continued her surveillance of the South Inner Palace.
As the year-end was near, Wei Linxia prepared to pay her respects to the old man. She spoke to Xi Linxuan, who was playing with small clay figures alongside Xi Yaya, while Wei Linxia arranged the figures.
“He doesn’t have a son like me,” Xi Linxuan remarked.
“But you still have a father, and Yaya and Xi Qi have a grandfather,” Wei Linxia replied.
“Wei Chenbi, you always have a reason,” Xi Linxuan responded, determined to be more filial in the future, allowing subsequent matters to progress naturally.
The imperial palace was large, and the South Inner Palace was distant yet still within the palace walls. Upon arrival, it was as quiet as Tai Qing had said, with palace maids and eunuchs moving silently. Wei Linxia and Xi Linxuan, dressed casually, caused the eunuch to gasp. After reporting, the eunuch nervously returned, stating the former Emperor requested the Emperor and Empress to return.
Wei Linxia smiled, noting the former Emperor’s displeasure, which he made no effort to hide. As they walked back, Xi Linxuan bitterly remarked, “I told you he doesn’t have a son like me.”
“Even cattle have deep affection for their offspring, let alone the former Emperor. You’ve been busy, so I’ll pay respects to the former Emperor on your behalf,” Wei Linxia replied, noticing Xi Linxuan’s regret.
