Sixty-six: Wishes Fulfilled

Within the Hall of Supreme Harmony, all was silent; for a moment, even the faint sound of wind and snow outside seemed to reach clearly within. On the imperial court, countless gazes fell upon the Third Prince of Great Zhou, clad in splendid ceremonial robes. Every face bore the same expression, as if cast from a single mold: utter astonishment.

Who was Su Zhiqiu? Even if Pei Xiunian had not openly revealed her identity, none within this hall were unaware of the imperial princess from Qingqiu. Just over a month prior, her name had hung like a sharp sword above the heads of the civil and military officials of Great Zhou, troubling them deeply. Though this Qingqiu princess had set foot in Zhaoning for the first time, her reputation had long preceded her; it was said she had never lost in countless campaigns against other dynasties, her mastery of warfare beyond question.

After she broke through Xiangyang, the dread her name inspired among the court officials could only be described as terror. It was precisely for this reason that the Third Prince’s achievements were elevated even higher. Yet, in truth, Pei Xiunian had never truly clashed with her; there had been no strategies, no battles, not even a hint of confrontation.

And now—the Third Prince was openly proposing a marriage alliance with this imperial princess? Whether one considered this a form of consorting with the supernatural was beside the point; the mere proposal was as fantastical as a tale from a distant land. Such a marriage would never win the people’s favor; rather, it would shake their confidence. Relations between dynasties were always dictated by profit—forming alliances, turning to enmity, and back again, this dance was all too commonplace. Yet such rapid, forceful shifts—these sudden unions and divisions—would bewilder even the most seasoned courtesan of the Yi Hong Courtyard, let alone the common folk.

Should this matter spill from the court into the streets, one could scarcely imagine the uproar it would cause—and at the center of it all would be the Third Prince himself. Thus, several officials immediately stepped forward to protest:

“Your Highness, this marriage carries great consequence. You must consider it carefully, lest you be blinded by beauty…”

A scholar from the Imperial Academy came forth and declared, “Your Majesty, I suspect the Third Prince has fallen under the spell of a fox spirit. I request the court’s diviners examine whether his soul remains intact…”

To such suggestions—bordering on soul-searching—Pei Xiunian’s expression did not change. He cast a casual glance at the real Qingqiu princess, her eyes now somewhat vacant, and continued along the script he had devised:

“This marriage was not a sudden whim, but a decision made before Qingqiu’s retreat. As the Minister of Rites has just mentioned, I negotiated with the princess herself. Su Zhiqiu, as the imperial princess of Qingqiu, is no fool to be swayed by a few words. If I had not offered her certain terms, how could I have compelled her to withdraw her army?”

“The safe retreat of Qingqiu’s forces, aside from the exhaustion of their supplies, was secured by another condition: the marriage alliance.”

Not far from Pei Xiunian, “Yu Hongdou” felt worse than if she had swallowed a fly.

She understood perfectly what Pei Xiunian’s words implied: they directly revealed that his two prepared imperial edicts, and his identity, were equally false. The whole affair was a fabrication. Had Pei Xiunian not explained himself so, Su Zhiqiu would still believe the edict she saw was truly from the Emperor of Zhaoning, and that her swallowing the pill was a desperate act.

Only now did she realize she had been deceived by Pei Xiunian’s effortless chain of stratagems. She had initially exposed his empty fortress ruse, knowing the letter was deliberately delivered, but the second edict led her to believe it was genuine—a ploy to draw her away. Never had she guessed that these schemes, taken together, formed the true deception.

Otherwise, he would have no need to explain it, nor invent such clumsy excuses. His implication was clear: the so-called marriage alliance was a concession she, the Qingqiu princess, had made to withdraw her army—a demand she herself presented to him.

How audacious, to fabricate such nonsense in open court! Yet this was Zhaoning, not Qingqiu’s Tushan. Though Su Zhiqiu knew the truth, she could not speak out, for now she was merely “Yu Hongdou,” ignorant of such matters.

If her true identity were revealed, and Pei Xiunian discovered it, she could not imagine how he might toy with her. The feeling was like a bone stuck in her throat, unable to vent, her heart nearly bursting with frustration.

To be so publicly maligned by Pei Xiunian, the shame made the illustrious Qingqiu princess curl her toes—gleaming white as jade beneath her skirt—involuntarily tight.

Su Zhiqiu swore silently: the humiliation of today would one day be repaid a hundredfold!

Pei Xiunian turned at the right moment, bowed to the emperor seated upon the dragon throne, and said:

“Father, the reason I did not mention this before is because I knew its impact would be unfavorable. Besides, though it is a marriage alliance, it has not yet been approved by the Empress of Spirits…”

The Emperor of Zhaoning regarded his son calmly, then asked, “And what are your thoughts on this marriage, Xiunian?”

Pei Xiunian was prepared. He summarized, “I believe that, for Great Zhou’s benefit, it is best to remain quiet for now.”

He glanced, almost unintentionally, at Yu Hongdou. Through his heavenly eye, he could vaguely see her small hands clenched tightly within her sleeves.

Pei Xiunian found this amusing and continued with his conjecture:

“It is difficult to predict how this will stir the emotions of our people. It was not the Empress of Spirits’ intent. Moreover, Su Zhiqiu not only failed to achieve victory, but suffered defeat. After she returns to Tushan, she will not quickly regain power. Besides, nothing has been formally agreed; should Great Zhou send envoys hastily, it may only worsen Qingqiu’s internal strife. Better to wait peacefully through winter…”

When Pei Xiunian finished, the Emperor of Zhaoning fell into contemplation. Silence hung heavy, and the court officials began to whisper among themselves.

Before the chief eunuch could strike his baton for silence, several high-ranking ministers spoke out in support of the Third Prince’s position.

As for the truth of the matter, none pressed it further. As Lady Changle had said, if the Third Prince truly wished to consort with spirits, he could have pledged himself to Qingqiu long ago—why risk such perilous actions?

In fact, Lady Changle, who had sought to clarify the matter and expose Pei Xiunian’s motives, now found herself just as choked as the princess. Her earlier defense of the Third Prince now returned like an arrow shot into her own brow.

“So.” Pei Xiunian stepped forward, bowed to the esteemed Lady Changle, and said:

“I beg your pardon, Elder Duke Yu. Before the marriage alliance with Qingqiu is settled, I cannot give my consent. Moreover, I believe that in matters between man and woman, without understanding or acquaintance, it is difficult to form true bonds, and unnecessary barriers may arise.”

His words, both a refusal and a graceful retreat, prompted Lady Changle’s gaze to sweep silently over the princess, only to find her eyes unwavering, resolute.

Lady Changle replied, “Your Highness is devoted to Great Zhou, agreeing to such a marriage at great personal cost. Let us lay the matter of the pill to rest. Yet as you say, the alliance may not come to pass. I have heard Your Highness is selecting attendants—what do you think of Hongdou?”

So, the Qingqiu princess had used sorcery to control this noble family? Was she seeking revenge, or something else? Pei Xiunian, curious to see her next move, feigned reluctance, saying, “Hongdou is the granddaughter of the Duke. How could she serve as my attendant?”

Lady Changle hesitated, about to explain, but Yu Hongdou herself stepped forward and said:

“I have heard Your Highness is learned and courageous. I have admired you for a long time. To accompany Your Highness is my own wish, regardless of my status.”

With that, she bowed to the assembled officials, the empress dowager, and the Emperor of Zhaoning:

“I dare not disturb the affairs of court. I shall take my leave.”

As her figure slowly departed the hall, Pei Xiunian could only look somewhat helplessly at Lady Changle, who, white-haired, offered an awkward smile and said:

“Hongdou is willful; I beg Your Highness’s pardon. Please guide her well in future.”

Though Pei Xiunian truly wished to refuse, at this point there was no way to decline. He could only sweep his sleeve and say:

“No matter.”