Chapter Fifty-Eight: Foolish Loyalty and Filial Piety

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In the Palace of Primordial Beginning, within the Hall of Longevity, the Empress Wu’s face was as cold as still water. She turned page after page, reading the reports from the Plum Blossom Inner Guard and the Gate of Radiant Scenery. Both reports concerned the same matter, yet their tones were, as always, markedly different.

The Plum Blossom Inner Guard’s memorial stated, “…Although your servants have found no conclusive evidence, judging by Quan Ce’s temperament and cunning, it is highly likely that, upon learning of Quan Yi’s secret aid in the escape of the imperial criminal, he, in order to cover his tracks, erupted in violence and slaughtered all those at the various junctures who knew the truth, disposing of them together with the criminal. The so-called six merchants discovered by the Langqiong Envoy, as well as the story told by Quan Yi and his son about traveling to Tibet to purchase candles, are likely mere diversions, not to be believed… Quan Yi’s intent to rebel, though lacking direct evidence, is logically inferred beyond doubt. Quan Ce’s concealing knowledge of the crime and covering up evidence makes him an accessory and equally culpable… Under torture, Xu Jingzhen confessed to assisting the survivors. Four noble families of Chang’an are also implicated. We request permission to apprehend them all…”

The Gate of Radiant Scenery’s report read, “…Your servant has discovered that Quan Yi colluded with the Gatekeeper of Anxi in order to smuggle several people, though there is no evidence as to exactly whom. When the Chief Historian of the Langqiong Envoy came to thank Quan Ce in person, he entrusted him with the matter of the merchant caravan. It would not have been difficult for Quan Yi to learn of this, thus the story that father and son coordinated their testimonies in advance is untenable… On the night in question, Quan Ce feasted with Assistant Minister Wu Youji all night, as if nothing was amiss. When I arrived with my men, he was even in the mood to compose poetry for me… Based on this, the matter of the merchant caravan seems credible; if Quan Yi harbored rebellious intentions, Quan Ce appears uninvolved… All the murder cases in the Eastern Capital have left no witnesses, suggesting some other villain took advantage of the chaos. I request an imperial order for full investigation.”

“Hmph.” The Empress snorted coldly. The Plum Blossom Inner Guard were full of murderous intent—if they could, they’d slaughter every member of the Li clan. The Gate of Radiant Scenery, on the other hand, was biased, harping on evidence and full of exonerating words. She trusted neither report.

Shangguan Wan’er entered softly. “Your Majesty, the Gate of Radiant Scenery has another memorial to present.”

“Another? Does Hou Sizhi think he hasn’t spoken up for them enough?” The Empress accepted it with a cold snort.

“Your servant Hou Sizhi reports: Since the arrest and return of Quan Ce, the punishments administered thus far are as follows: one hundred strokes of the staff, three hundred lashes, three hours in the cangue; he has vomited over five bowls of blood, lost consciousness seven times; only screams were heard, with no confession obtained. His breath now lingers by a thread. I have also appended the regulated verse he composed for me: ‘Zhao’s guest wore a Hu tassel…’”

The Empress read with mounting agitation, flinging the memorial to the floor in anger. “Hou Sizhi courts death!”

“Your Majesty, calm your wrath,” Shangguan Wan’er knelt immediately. “Censor Hou would never dare offend Your Majesty. Quan Ce has ever been your useful servant. Surely it is only that, reaching this point, he dared not act on his own and thus sought your instruction.”

The Empress gazed down at Shangguan Wan’er. “Wan’er, it seems you, too, have something to say.”

Prostrate on the floor, Shangguan Wan’er spoke from a neutral position. “Your Majesty, I am ignorant and cannot discern truth from falsehood. If we assume the worst, and both sides speak truth, then Quan Ce’s actions may be only to protect his father and family, while at the same time seeking to mitigate the harm caused by Quan Yi. Torn between loyalty and filial piety, his conduct may have been imprudent. Yet, judging by his actions, he seems to harbor no intention of betraying Your Majesty.”

The Empress remained silent for a long while, her eyelids lowered. “Wan’er, speak honestly. Do you harbor feelings for him?”

Shangguan Wan’er was alarmed, bowing her head repeatedly. “I would not dare. I am confined to the palace, my body not my own, and would never dare to give myself lightly.”

“Hmph. So what you mean is, if you were free, you would have given yourself to him?” The Empress pressed, her tone icy.

Shangguan Wan’er trembled, unable to speak further.

“Young hearts drawn to beauty is only human. I will not bind you in this,” said the Empress, her expression stern. “But it cannot be Quan Ce. You must not devote your heart to him, much less your life.”

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“I obey Your Majesty’s command,” Shangguan Wan’er replied quickly, hearing in the Empress’s tone that Quan Ce’s life was likely safe, and her heart eased a little.

“Very well, rise.” The Empress’s expression softened slightly. “Recite the seven-character regulated verse he composed for the Langqiong Envoy that day.”

Shangguan Wan’er recited it in a clear voice.

The Empress’s expression turned angry once more. Again, it was lines about leaving affairs behind and wandering off, or laughing his way into the lands of the immortals. Had he not been born into the royal family, this young man would likely have long since roamed the world. “Pedantic, weak, foolishly filial,” she muttered.

“Your Majesty, the Duke of E, Xue Huaiyi; Assistant Minister Wu Youji; Hanlin Academician Cui Rong; and General Zheng Zhong of the Eastern Capital all wait outside for an audience.”

“Tell them I will not see them. Instruct Xue Huaiyi to diligently expound on the Great Cloud Sutra. Wu Youji is to set out immediately to welcome Princess Taiping.” The Empress knew their intentions well. “Cui Rong and Zheng Zhong are negligent in their duties; dock their salaries for a year.”

The eunuch withdrew in embarrassment. Outside, the four men, hearing the Empress’s words, were each greatly unsettled.

At the Princess Yiyang’s residence, Princess Yiyang sat pale and weary, leaning on her couch, reading letters from her younger siblings.

Princess Gao’an was still like a young girl, full of excitement and requests, oblivious to sorrow. Out of ten pages, five were lists of things she wanted, and the remaining five were all concerned with her eldest nephew, Quan Ce. Gao’an had borne a son even before her elder sister, but her own mind was still immature, and she was indifferent toward her son, leaving his care mostly to servants. When her maternal love finally surged, her son had grown and was distant from her, and so all her affection was lavished on her nephew, with a fervor that knew no bounds.

Prince Yu, Li Sujie, was far more mature, sighing over the hardships the three siblings faced. He declared that their mother’s belongings should be given as dowry to his two elder sisters; he wanted nothing. He, too, mentioned Quan Ce several times, worried that his young nephew was burdened with too many cares, and urged his sister to look after him.

By the time Princess Yiyang finished reading, the letter paper was soaked with tears. She had thought her tears were spent, yet in a single night both her husband and eldest son had been thrown into prison—her husband vanished without a trace, and her eldest son was taken to the Gate of Radiant Scenery, that notorious place. If she must choose, she would rather her husband had been sent there, not her son.

After a bout of weeping, she rose and ordered her four chief maids to fetch her long-unworn princess attire. She was going to that palace—a nightmare to her—to plead with the murderer of her mother. If it might save her son, even at the cost of her life, so be it.

She had not yet finished dressing when a maid announced, “My lady, Lord Lu and Lord Han are here.” The “Elder Lord Lu” was Lu Zhaoyin; “Young Lord Lu” referred to his son, Lu Jiong. Lord Han was Han Zhai, who had not accompanied Quan Ce on the eastern campaign against Li Zhen and had no achievements to his name, still serving as a minor officer in the Eastern Capital.

“Ask them to wait a moment. Tell Quan Fu to entertain them.”

Soon after, more footsteps sounded. “My lady, Lady Fuqu has returned, and Lady Wu has also arrived.”

“Invite them in, quickly!” Princess Yiyang ordered in rapid succession. No matter what, Fuqu was her son’s companion and the last person to have seen him. If she had left behind any last words, as a mother, it would give her some peace of mind.

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At the Gate of Radiant Scenery, in the prison.

Quan Ce sat with his hair disheveled, his face streaked with blood, his whole body filthy, his clothing in tatters revealing skin covered in bruises and welts, not a single uninjured spot.

Hou Sizhi personally took him down from the punishment rack, helped him to a long bench, and produced hot dishes and soup from a lunchbox, along with a bowl of Henan-style stewed noodles glistening with oil. Passing him the chopsticks, he said, “Eat.”

Quan Ce managed a weak smile, took the chopsticks, and ate ravenously.

Hou Sizhi watched him for a while, then sighed. “Your father’s been taken away by the Plum Blossom Inner Guard…”

Quan Ce paused, grief clouding his face.

“No need to worry. They’re fond of beheadings and have more fancy torture devices than I do,” Hou Sizhi offered his own peculiar consolation. “Really, if you’d known this day would come, you shouldn’t have gotten involved. You could have saved yourself; better that than both father and son falling together.”

Quan Ce swallowed a mouthful of meat and shook his head silently.

“Heh.” Hou Sizhi chuckled softly. “You’re tight-lipped as ever, not a word out of you. Believe it or not, I said that as a friend, not to trick you into talking.”

Quan Ce kept eating as best he could, murmuring, “I believe you. Just, tomorrow, when you beat me again, go easy.”

His eyes were limpid and sincere, his tone light, as if inviting someone for drinks at a flower house.

Hou Sizhi’s heart gave a fierce jolt. He immediately stood up, strode out of the cell, and at the door, turned back and pointed at him. “Eat a little more.”