Chapter Forty-Five: Excuses

Pei Xiunian felt that, having fallen into such circumstances, it would be unwise to pledge himself directly to any faction at court. If he were to side with the Empress Dowager, it would give Emperor Zhaoning every reason to “refine the pill”; yet if he joined the Emperor’s party, his identity would remain firmly in the hands of the Empress Dowager. She wouldn’t even need to reveal this card openly; a mere hint would suffice to keep him under her thumb, making him entirely subject to her whims. Who could tell how this demonic mistress might humiliate him then?

Though Pei Xiunian could guess at her true identity, it was, after all, only conjecture. Otherwise, when facing this Empress Dowager—whose powers were suspected to be greatly diminished—he could have simply pinned her against the wall, whispered, “Your Majesty, you wouldn’t want your secret exposed, would you?” and had his way. But at present, he was powerless; he was still doubting the “Cao bandit,” and he lacked the decisive evidence to settle the matter.

In short, to forestall such precarious uncertainties, Pei Xiunian had no choice but to take this risky step. Though it meant treading on thin ice, at least the initiative remained with him. In this manner, from Emperor Zhaoning’s perspective, it would be unprofitable to “refine the pill” of such a loyal son.

But why did he appear so loyal? Because Pei Xiunian believed the assassination in Hangzhou had been orchestrated by the Empress Dowager. From Emperor Zhaoning’s vantage, he was unaware of the other attempt at the relay station, so he was content to let events unfold. Thus, allowing Pei Xiunian to struggle with the Empress Dowager was all to the good; the potential benefits were many, and when his usefulness was fully drained, it would not be too late to discard him.

The Empress Dowager did, indeed, need a prince with the strength to contend for the throne—a tool for her ends—and Pei Xiunian was the ideal candidate. She need not fear his defection, since she held the trump card of his identity. Yet she was in no hurry to play it; confrontation had not yet reached its peak, and simply holding it eased her mind. With this card, Pei Xiunian would never be more than a pawn.

Still, this endless balancing act was no real path to freedom for Pei Xiunian; it could only preserve his life, nothing more. Of course, if his double-dealing ever came to light, there would truly be no place for him in the empire.

Therefore, his performance had to be flawless; every detail needed careful thought. Accompanying the Empress Dowager back to Chengqian Palace so openly tonight could, in Emperor Zhaoning’s eyes, be seen as an attempt to extend his influence toward her. On the Empress Dowager’s side, she too needed a plausible explanation—something to make the matter seem natural.

There were eyes and ears everywhere in the Forbidden City, and both aunt and nephew had strolled through the Imperial Garden in plain sight. If they did not handle things carefully, who knew what rumors might spread by morning? Only the Empress Dowager’s own formidable presence made such a thing possible; had it been one of the favored consorts, a late-night visit to a prince’s chambers for a private supper would certainly be twisted into scandalous tales among the gossipy palace women—stories like “My Best Friend’s Son,” “Mother’s Confidante,” or “The Kind Aunt”—who could say?

The thought gave Pei Xiunian a strange sensation, almost as if he were on a secret tryst. He turned again to look at the Empress Dowager, whose beauty could put even a fox spirit of Qingqiu to shame, and mused, “Since Aunt Meng’s purpose is to win me over, why not simply disregard the consequences? In all the Great Zhou, who would dare oppose the Empress Dowager in the slightest?”

The Empress Dowager crossed her legs, adjusting her dark silk stockings with a soft sigh. “But wouldn’t that make His Majesty’s trust in you even more precarious?”

“There’s no helping it,” Pei Xiunian said, spreading his hands. “The only thing to salvage the situation is for Aunt Meng to show some indignation when you leave—act as if our discussion was less than harmonious.”

“After all, anyone can see the capital is unsettled; the storm is coming. When the Second Prince returns, I’ll need a patron for the struggle ahead, won’t I? Aunt Meng publicly supported me in court before, so seeking my alliance now is only reasonable.”

“Should I have you stand at the door and shout, ‘I am your aunt!’ to ensure no one dares gossip about our meeting tonight?”

Though Pei Xiunian’s words were indirect, the Empress Dowager understood his meaning. If such ambiguous rumors concerned her personal affairs, all the spies planted throughout the Forbidden City would instantly quiet themselves—such talk was dangerous indeed.

In truth, as someone who hailed from a sect that cultivated detachment from emotion, the Empress Dowager ought not to care for such rumors. Yet, being a woman, her reputation could not help but matter to her. In that moment, she found herself at a loss, and murmured instinctively, “But I am your aunt…”

The words slipped out, and even she raised her brows in surprise.

“There you go.” Pei Xiunian spread his hands again. “Just listen to me, Aunt. I’ll handle Father.”

A flicker of gentleness passed through the Empress Dowager’s eyes. “Very well, I’ll do as you say. I hadn’t considered all this; I will find a way to repay you.”

Then she hesitated, and asked, “If you pledge yourself to His Majesty, with his methods, for the sake of stability, he will surely arrange a marriage for you in time. If I do not intervene, will you be able to withstand it?”

Her concern was well founded; at court, an imperial betrothal was a form of constraint, with no foundation in affection. If Emperor Zhaoning truly decreed it, Pei Xiunian would find it hard to refuse. Still, he was fairly certain the Emperor would not press the matter just yet—he was still hoping Pei Xiunian might draw closer to the Empress Dowager.

Nonetheless, Pei Xiunian played along, replying, “I could simply say I am already betrothed, or have someone in my heart, couldn’t I?”

The Empress Dowager’s smile was cold and mocking. “Oh? And which young lady is so fortunate to attract our Xiunian’s favor?”

Pei Xiunian shrugged nonchalantly. “I think Xiao Qin would do nicely…”

“Are you mad?” The Empress Dowager sat up straight, her fox-fur cloak slipping to the floor, but she seemed not to notice as she continued, “She is only your maid. Marriage is not a game! Even if you truly liked her, she could only be a concubine, never a match for the daughters of dukes or ministers!”

“Why so agitated, Aunt Meng? I was only joking…”

“Hmph.” The Empress Dowager folded her arms and fell silent.

Pei Xiunian moved behind her, picking up the fallen cloak and thinking to himself that this demoness must be worried her prized cabbage might be pilfered. He did not know what cultivation method Yaoguang Sect practiced, but from their tenets of emotional detachment, and from her demeanor, it was likely one of those that forbade intimacy.

He brushed the fur clean and draped it over her delicate shoulders. From his vantage point, he caught a glimpse of snowy skin, but he fastened the cloak with steady hands, covering her completely before continuing, “What does Aunt Meng think of marrying someone from the martial world?”

“That won’t do either.” The Empress Dowager shook her head decisively, then said, “I know whom you mean—Jiang Yunhe, isn’t it? She is… well enough, but as a prince, you must marry someone of equal rank. Martial artists have no official status; how could you hope to outshine the daughters of ministers?”

“You are right, Aunt.”

Pei Xiunian nodded, massaging her shoulders through the cloak. She showed no sign of discomfort, so he asked, “Then I know whom I can use as a pretext.”

The Empress Dowager was puzzled. “Who?”

Pei Xiunian smiled. “Princess Su Zhiqiu of Qingqiu.”

At this, the Empress Dowager did not seem surprised, but calmly sipped her tea. “Xiunian, such things are not to be trifled with. No matter how lovely the fox princess, she is still not one of our people. Do you know how much criticism such a rumor would bring? You have never attended court—just listen to my advice…”

Pei Xiunian waved her off. “This isn’t mere fabrication. Otherwise, would Aunt Meng believe the only reason the twenty thousand Qingqiu troops withdrew peacefully from Yun Chuan was a broken supply line? Even without Hangzhou, wouldn’t they have tried their luck along our weakly guarded southern borders?”

The councilors and advisors had not mentioned the fleeting imperial decree in his possession, which meant General Chu had guarded the secret well. Forging such an order was no small matter—if there had been the slightest leak, Pei Xiunian would have been impeached long ago.

Thus, he could hold onto this advantage with peace of mind.

The Empress Dowager’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You—Xiunian, did you truly make a marriage pact with the Princess of Qingqiu? How could such an important matter never have been mentioned?”

“Even you believe it, don’t you?” Pei Xiunian laughed. “So how could the ministers not? This alliance is for the sake of Great Zhou, but the storm it would cause among the people is no small thing. Without an official Qingqiu delegation, the court would be most unlikely to pursue such dealings.”

“As for Princess Su Zhiqiu? She is probably still under house arrest, and I won’t be going to Yun Chuan to lead the Xiliang army again. I can say with certainty: I will never cross paths with Su Zhiqiu again!”

He was so certain because both Qingqiu and Great Zhou were nearly bankrupt after years of war. With Qingqiu’s withdrawal and Zhou’s recovery of lost lands, both sides could at least enjoy some years of peace. Not to mention, the princess would need time to regain power, and the court was rife with factional strife. As for meeting her in person? The chance was slimmer than one of the automaton soldiers made emperor.

The Empress Dowager poked him with a slender finger, exasperated. “You, you…”

Only after the gesture did she feel a bit strange—when had she truly started treating Pei Xiunian like an aunt would? She had never even met the Third Prince, let alone Pei Xiunian, who was not truly the prince. Where had this odd sense of familiarity come from? Was it simply this man’s extraordinary ease and charm?

She brushed the thought aside, looking up to see the snow had stopped outside Chengqian Palace. The moon shone cold and bright as she rose gracefully.

“It’s late. I shall not disturb your rest any longer. Let us leave it here for tonight.”

“Take care, Aunt Meng.”

Pei Xiunian bowed respectfully, intending to escort her out, but she stopped him with a raised hand. After straightening her garments, she exited the hall alone.

Pei Xiunian watched as the Empress Dowager disappeared beyond Chengqian Palace. In the end, even these so-called demonic mistresses cared about their reputation.

And that, perhaps, was just as well.