Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The Imperial Guards simply could not serve as eunuch supervisors. Even with the cooperation and urging of the Palace Front Office, numerous trivial matters at the Jade Forest Banquet still required the Inner Palace Service to personally attend to them. Ji Fang was assigned this task and worked tirelessly for three to five days straight before finally managing to arrange everything in time for the date on the invitation.

Although the Jade Forest Banquet had traditionally been held for the newly minted scholars who had passed the palace examination, word had spread that the Princess Royal would use the occasion to openly discuss matters of grain and cavalry. As a result, officials from both civil and military ranks eagerly submitted their requests for attendance. Among them were those genuinely concerned with state affairs, but just as many were mere spectators. In all, the guest list was more than three times longer than in previous years.

As a maid was assisting Cheng Muning with her dressing, Ji Fang, from behind a curtain, groaned, “Yesterday a few ministers from the Six Ministries also came seeking invitations. Those men are all eloquent and sharp-tongued. I fear they’ll treat the Princess’s banquet like a court session, shouting and quarrelling, making it impossible for anyone to find peace.”

Cheng Muning was unusually resplendent today. Clusters of wisteria embroidered on her skirt elevated her presence, and a delicate floral forehead ornament added to her refined grace. The moment she lifted the beaded curtain, even the attendant Red Brocade was momentarily stunned. Three years in Dengzhou, dressed in plain white gowns, had nearly made one forget that the Princess was of dragon’s blood and phoenix’s marrow—she was born noble through and through.

She smoothed the fine pleats of her sleeve, seeming unconcerned. “A little noise livens things up. I haven’t seen them in a long time; let them all come.”

Then she added, “By the way, prepare one more invitation.”

Ji Fang wondered who this extra invitation was for, but before he could ask, Cheng Muning had already stepped away with her maid. He hastily pocketed the invitation handed by a junior eunuch and hurried after her.

In past years, the Jade Forest Banquet had always been hosted by the Emperor himself. But this time, Cheng Zheng claimed illness and did not appear. The Empress was attending the Emperor’s side, so it fell naturally to the Princess Royal to undertake the task of inviting the scholars. The Imperial Guards and the Phoenix Carriage attendants waited orderly outside the Danyang Gate, making the simple carriage by the stone lion seem all the more out of place.

Ji Fang rubbed his forehead, suddenly realizing who the extra invitation was meant for.

Ever since the Emperor had secluded himself for recuperation, he had become a hands-off ruler: petitions went unanswered, ministers were ignored, and those officials who actually tried to accomplish something were desperate. Of these, Minister of Revenue Zhang Ji was the most anxious. As overseer of the nation’s finances and military expenditures, Zhang Ji was under scrutiny from all departments. Yet his treasury was empty, and the Emperor refused to make decisions. Rumors said the Emperor had decreed all matters were now to be decided by the Princess, and the official seal had been handed to her. So Zhang Ji had been daily presenting his respectful petitions to the Phoenix Palace, his requests tearfully earnest. But the Princess’s heart was as hard as stone; she merely remarked upon reading them, “Minister Zhang’s writing has improved much—no wonder he’s a scholar from the Hanlin Academy.” Then she sent him away with some excuse.

It wasn’t that Cheng Muning was cold-hearted. It was that Minister Zhang’s tongue was notorious; even when the late Emperor was alive, he had suffered through Zhang’s relentless pleas. Zhang was always the first to break down in tears, and if no one stopped him, he could talk for days on end. Few in the court could endure such torment, let alone the Emperor.

Indeed, there were hardly any who could spend five consecutive days stationed at the palace gates as Zhang Ji had.

From afar, Zhang Ji leapt down from his carriage upon seeing Cheng Muning. Breathless, clutching his robe, he rushed forward, “Princess, Princess—” only to be stopped by several long spears at the gate.

Cheng Muning raised her hand to command passage, feigning surprise. “Minister Zhang, what brings you here? Are you coming to see the Emperor?”

Zhang Ji, stout and broad, panted as he hurried along behind her. His mustache quivered with exertion. “See the Emperor? No, I’ve come to see the Princess! These days I have sent several petitions to you, but the Princess hasn’t even replied!”

“Ah, is that so?” Cheng Muning looked innocent. “I’ve just returned to the capital, with trivial matters piled high—busy to the point of dizziness. Minister, if you have business, you may first present your memorials to the other ministers. We can discuss them together another day at the Council Hall.”

“Another day? Oh, how can we wait for another day?!” Zhang Ji’s hat brim was askew as he followed closely behind her. His face was full of worry. “Princess, you must understand, those men are driving me to ruin. The treasury cannot spare a single coin. The Emperor has given up, and I have no way forward. If you do not take charge, I shall resign and return to my hometown tomorrow!”

Cheng Muning sighed as she walked toward the Phoenix Carriage. “Minister Zhang, why do you speak so? You are a veteran of two reigns, the Emperor’s trusted aide. If even you are so desperate, who else can the court rely on?”

Her words struck a chord with Zhang Ji, and his expression softened slightly. “Indeed… I was entrusted by the late Emperor to serve loyally. But the situation is urgent. Procuring grain and horses requires vast sums. The Princess has been away from the capital for years and may not understand what has transpired…”

Zhang Ji sighed deeply, hands tucked in his sleeves, head tilted back. “Not to mention the northern wars two years ago which drained vast resources, last year’s floods in Longzhou required two hundred thousand taels of silver for relief… And a few months ago, heavy snow collapsed an entire street of houses south of the capital—repairs by the Ministry of Works are another great expense… Such expenditures are endless. With harvests poor, taxes collected each year are less, but expenditures grow.”

Zhang Ji spoke with such fervor that Red Brocade and Silver Bamboo exchanged glances and rubbed their ears in unison. Cheng Muning listened attentively, occasionally responding, “Indeed, the Ministry of Revenue is in a difficult position. Minister, you have worked hard.”

“Exactly. Everyone keeps demanding money from the Ministry, but the funds do not come from thin air. Were it not for the Emperor using the palace’s treasury as collateral, I doubt even officials’ salaries could be paid now… Eh, Princess, are you about to leave? There are still many financial matters I have not yet spoken of.” His brow furrowed in displeasure as he watched her prepare to board the carriage.

Cheng Muning stopped and said, “I sympathize with your difficulties, Minister. I am going to find funds for you.”

Zhang Ji sneered, “I know. The Princess wants to gather clever ideas from the civil officials, but it’s futile! They are all just smooth talkers, offering impractical schemes. If there were any useful plans, would I be so restless? I think the Princess need not have come at all. Instead, it would be better to call the ministers together for another discussion.”

But Cheng Muning replied, “Minister, have you and the other ministers deliberated for days before the Emperor? What conclusions have you reached?”

Zhang Ji hesitated.

Cheng Muning smiled. “Whether it is futile or not, we won’t know until we try. I am not going anywhere. If you do not trust me, then come along.” She added, “Ji Fang, give the invitation to Minister Zhang and help him straighten his attire.”

...

Outside the Jade Forest Garden, carriages and horses had already crowded the area. Corridors, pavilions, and terraces were packed with people; the scene was livelier than the morning court session. Several high-ranking officials arrived late and gathered on the northern banquet platform to drink tea and chat, while lower-ranked officials were seated on lower tiers. Yet most seats remained empty. Many crowded beneath a pavilion by the rockery, voices rising in heated discussion.

The young and fearless spoke boldly. A scholar in a dark green robe said, “The Emperor does not show himself, sending only the Princess Royal to manage things—what influence can that have? Sigh, it seems the rebel army’s entry into the capital is only a matter of time. We have just joined the court and cannot yet show our strength; ten years of hard study seem wasted!”

Others glanced around cautiously and whispered sternly, “Do not speak recklessly, unless you want to lose your head.”

But the atmosphere in the capital was one of reckless abandon, as if death were imminent and nothing mattered. Such talk was commonplace, faces unchanged. A somewhat more serious-looking official said, “Do not despair. I entered the court three or four years before you. Though I have never seen the Princess’s divine countenance, I have seen her personally review petitions for the Emperor. She is truly intelligent and exceptional. Perhaps there is a way to resolve this crisis.”

The scholar in green retorted angrily, “If she were so all-powerful, why would she have endured three years of hardship in Dengzhou? I think this banquet is just another ploy by the powerful factions to form cliques. With foreign enemies at the gates, they bicker endlessly amongst themselves! These high-ranking authorities do not care for the people. When the soldiers go hungry to fight, it does not stop them from living in luxury! Moreover, the rebel Prince Yin is one of the Cheng family. When the rebels seize the capital, if the Princess calls him ‘Royal Uncle,’ perhaps she’ll be made a county princess again. No wonder the Emperor does nothing now—he probably intends to surrender but cannot admit it to save face, letting the front-line soldiers bleed dry to preserve the royal reputation! Honggui, what do you say?”

The rough-clad scholar shoved aside looked weary, shaking his head and holding his tea, apparently unwilling to argue further. “The banquet is about to start. Let’s take our seats.”

He turned to leave the noisy crowd, but as he did, Xu Jingqing and the Marquis of Military Virtue strolled slowly along the jade stone path near the rockery.

Those who had been speaking loudly fell silent and bowed deeply from afar. Only after the two men passed did they breathe a sigh of relief and resume their discussions in whispers.

The Marquis of Military Virtue listened to the noise behind him, took a deep breath, and said, “Hmph, the Princess Royal and the Emperor must have this intention. I say, if the dynasty truly changes hands one day, then we must be fully prepared.”

After all, the rebel Prince Yin might leave a useless deposed Emperor and an insignificant princess to bolster his reputation, but to eliminate future trouble, he would never tolerate someone like Xu Jingqing, who held great power and was related to the deposed Emperor.

The Marquis’s second son had recently married the Xu family’s third daughter, also entangled in these ties—likely to be implicated.

Xu Jingqing caught the meaning behind the Marquis’s words and sneered, “Perhaps the Emperor has entertained such thoughts. But the Princess Royal—you underestimate her. Like her mother, she is proud and stubborn. She would never accept anyone else as her master.”

The Marquis, who had only arrived in the capital two years ago and never met Cheng Muning, replied, hands behind his back, “A young girl, how can she have a solution when death is near? But now that you have proposed a plan, if she can quickly convince Pei Shao, there may yet be hope.”

Xu Jingqing said, “She has never gotten along with me; she may not follow my advice.”

The Marquis breathed deeply again. “Then what? If the rebels storm the capital? I say, since she won’t listen, why bother holding this banquet or making the trip? It’s just giving her face, a mere princess…”

Xu Jingqing stopped and turned, his dark expression startling the Marquis. “I did not want to come. When I told you to act on the road, how did you guarantee success? Now that things have come to this, what else can be done?”

The Marquis’s confidence wavered. Glancing around at no one nearby, he admitted, “I don’t know! I deployed half a battalion of household troops and twenty suicide squads I’ve trained for years—all wasted! The Emperor was so thorough this time. The people sent were no fools but quietly dealt with my men.”

He clenched his fist, ready to strike a pillar in frustration, but fearing detection, reluctantly withdrew his hand.

Xu Jingqing looked toward a lookout tower in the distance and said gravely, “The one who was so thorough is not the Emperor.”

The man there seemed to sense his gaze and returned a faint look before casually curling his lips. Taking a cup of wine from a nearby guard, he raised it in a distant toast. His composed, courteous gesture was laced with arrogance and provocation. Xu Jingqing’s face changed, revealing a rare crack in his usually inscrutable expression.

The Marquis, suspicious, was about to follow the man’s gaze when a commotion outside the wall broke out. Then someone announced:

“The Princess Royal has arrived—”