ITVCFITB CHAPTER 84

 Chapter 84 — Return to the Capital

Ever since the long-dominant Yan clan was crushed at court, the Fourth Prince’s residence had turned into a revolving door. Calling cards flew in like snow; everyone wanted a connection.

With the Fourth Prince’s status soaring, those who couldn’t reach him began circling through other routes, chief among them Shen Mingyun. Overnight he became a hot ticket: praised wherever he went, his fuller figure lauded as “plush and exquisite.” Beijing’s “No. 1 Beauty,” a modern-day Yang Guifei, people actually started overeating to imitate him, hoping the Fourth Prince would take notice.

The Fourth Prince took one look at the stream of rotund “beauties” officials sent to his door and sent every single one back.

Which, hilariously, only convinced the rumor mill that he was steadfastly devoted to his consort and had very particular tastes, namely, plump.

In private, the prince could only sigh: Do you all misunderstand my aesthetics?

As for Shen Mingyun, living daily in a bath of flattery left him broad of heart and, well, broad everywhere else. The system kept nagging him to slim down. He checked the price of the diet pills, what a daylight robbery and decided to save his precious points. Everyone kept saying “plump is beauty,” didn’t they? Fine. Then plump it is.

He now styled himself a latter-day Yang Guifei and became even less willing to spend points to lose weight.

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At court, nearly everyone saw the Fourth Prince as heir-apparent and the best bet for the throne. The Right Chancellor had fallen; the Left Chancellor quietly continued to support the prince, and no one could challenge his momentum, for now.

It was Year Twenty-One of Tiansheng, and the emperor’s sixtieth birthday approached.

After Consort Lin and the Empress were both driven from the spotlight, the emperor took no new favorites. Only Consort Mei and Consort Wei still had his ear. Consort Mei kept to her old ways, indifferent to palace strife, happiest with her garden dirt under her nails, and the emperor now gladly joined her in tending vegetables. Day-to-day management fell to Consort Wei. With no children of his own, he judged matters, not people; the harem had never been more harmonious.

Though the Fourth Prince had many backers, a few heavyweights still hadn’t shown their hand. The Left Chancellor, loyal to the emperor above all, kept his mouth shut on the matter of naming the crown prince, understandable prudence. He had supported moves against the Yan clan and the former Crown Prince likely at the emperor’s behest; his service, in truth, was to the throne, not to any one son. Hence the emperor’s long trust.

For the moment, the succession question was shelved. The priority was His Majesty’s sixtieth.

In Great Xia, grand birthdays begin at fifty; since the Empress Dowager still lived, it could not be styled a “longevity celebration,” merely a birthday. But for an emperor, a birthday is a state occasion, court banquets, foreign envoys bearing gifts, the works.

The date was the sixth day of the sixth month.

That day coincided with Qingming. The emperor led the imperial sons to the royal mausoleum, a rare family outing. Even homebody Consort Mei and Consort Wei were brought out of the palace to a country villa to rest and enjoy the spring.

By the river, the two women watched light play on ripples and exchanged a smile.

“Mei-fei,” Consort Wei asked, “it’s been years since we’ve seen the Third Prince. Do you ever miss him?”

“What mother doesn’t?” Consort Mei replied.

“Have you asked His Majesty to bring him back for the birthday?”

Mei-fei flicked a pebble into the water. “No.”

“Best not to. Someone will ask for you. I think the emperor misses him too.”

“Truth be told,” Consort Mei said, “I’d rather he didn’t return.”

“If he doesn’t,” Consort Wei said lightly, “we may soon have no chance to stand and watch water together either.”

Mei-fei said nothing, stones thudding into the river three, four times over. At length she murmured, “My homeland has a Moon Lake. At night it’s as if a second moon lies on earth, close enough to touch. When I was young, I loved to sit on the banks and play the flute.”

“I’ve heard you were once called the Moon Princess,” Consort Wei smiled. “So that’s where the name came from.”

“Perhaps. I only hope I can see that lake again in this lifetime.”

Consort Wei dropped onto a stone. “When I was little, I loved blades and bows. I could beat my second brother until he begged for mercy, he’d run and tattle to our mother, shameless. If I hadn’t been born a ger, there’d be no place for my brothers now.” He arched a brow. “Think I can still swing a stick?”

“Naturally,” she answered herself, rising. “I’ll dance a set for you.”

“Wait,” Mei-fei said, smiling. “I’ll play.” She plucked a leaf for a flute; Consort Wei found a branch for a staff. One played, one danced by the river, and for a moment the palace fell far, far away. When the tune ended, a rare smile tugged at Consort Mei’s lips. It had been so long since she’d laughed so freely.

By the time the emperor returned from the mausoleum with the princes, both women had resumed their usual masks, Mei-fei cool and distant, Wei-fei animatedly inspecting edible greens and plotting to make qingtuan back at the palace.

Lunch was served at the villa. The Fourth Prince took the younger boys hunting; Consorts Mei and Wei remained by the emperor’s side. Surveying a pile of game, the emperor sighed, “When it comes to hunting, the Third always took first. He loved the chase.”

At the mention of the nearly-forgotten Third Prince, the Fourth’s heart skipped, but he dutifully chimed in, “Without Third Brother, the sport loses a bit of spice.”

“Exactly,” the emperor nodded. “No one brought back more than he.”

Of his elder sons, one tended the tombs, one had died by his own hand. Sentiment, for once, was natural. The more peaceful the days, the more the emperor longed for the harmony of an ordinary household, three generations under one roof.

After Qingming, he even dreamed of the Third Prince as a boy, crying by a lakeshore. The next morning, when Consort Mei woke him for court, he said, half-absently, “I’m thinking of calling the Third back for my birthday. What say you?”

Mei-fei’s face was as indifferent as ever. “If Your Majesty wishes it, summon him. Why ask me?”

“You’re right,” he chuckled. “We’ll call him back. And have the imperial physicians examine the pair of them, how have they managed all these years with no child?”

“I’ve no wish to mind grandchildren,” Mei-fei frowned. “It would interfere with my fields.”

The emperor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You won’t have to. If they give us one baby, I’ll send a dozen wet nurses.”

“As you please,” she said.

Seven days later, Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu received the decree: return to the capital for the celebration.

At last, they could go back.

They were ready for whatever waited. The capital could not hold two tigers. The Fourth Prince and Shen Mingyun now owned the city’s networks and resources; Li Mingjin, after years away, commanded real troops. He would bring a thousand elite guards with him.

With a little over two months to go before the sixth, they would depart in the fifth month and arrive a few days early. They packed swiftly, but instead of racing straight to the capital, detoured to the mines and the training grounds, time to see results. Shadow-Three had been in charge of drilling; now was inspection.

City affairs they left to trusted officials; defense to General Wei. Whether they themselves could return north afterward was another question.

They had left at the end of Year Fifteen. Six years later, they were coming home. What those six years had made of them, no need to boast; anyone with eyes would see.

On the day they departed Gucheng, neither expected such a crowd at the gate. It was only a trip to celebrate the emperor’s birthday, yet people felt as if they were losing the pair who had fed them, sheltered them, kept war from their doors. They were reluctant to let go.

Baskets of eggs and vegetables were pressed into guards’ arms.

“Third Prince Consort, may you and His Highness be blessed forever!”

“Your Highness, you must come back and host our winter ice cuju tourney!”

“Why leave? Isn’t Gucheng good enough?”

“Will you come back?”

“If you leave, what will we do?”

Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu sat in the carriage rather than ride. They leaned out to wave.
“Everyone, go on home,” Luo Shuyu called. “We’ll be back.”

Strangely, it wasn’t Luo Shuyu whose eyes reddened, but Li Mingjin’s. He ducked his head in silence. So everything he’d done here, the people had kept count.

Luo Shuyu passed him a handkerchief, smiling. “Your Highness, are you crying?”

“Who’s crying? Men don’t shed tears lightly.” He turned away and yanked the curtain down.

“Truly not crying?” Luo Shuyu teased, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “Everyone has soft places. It’s nothing shameful. Besides, only I saw, are you afraid of me seeing?”

“I’m fine.” He drew a breath and looked up to find Luo Shuyu still smiling. “What’s so funny?”

“Why can’t I smile? The people didn’t waste our efforts; I’m happy. And I’m glad they stand behind you. I didn’t choose wrong. They didn’t follow the wrong man.”

Soothed by a few simple words, Li Mingjin pulled him into a fierce embrace. “I didn’t choose wrong either. Once we’re back, freedom will be scarce.”

“I’m not afraid,” Luo Shuyu said. “We’ve walked through worse. As long as we face it together, every day is sunlit.”

“In this life,” Li Mingjin said, “I will not fail you.”

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Seven days later, they passed the training grounds. The soldiers, finally seeing the “boss” with their own eyes, exploded with cheers. Most were northerners; their families now thrived in Gucheng. The Third Prince had changed their lives, better rations, generous pay, respect. On top of that, they held the empire’s most advanced weapons. Rumor had it no other nation had firearms yet; here there was already a dedicated firearm corps, refined over years.

The generals and men saw not only the Third Prince but also his consort: one tall and striking, the other crisp and dashing. More than a few young bachelors silently vowed to find a wife as forthright as the Third Prince Consort.

After a rousing address, the pair slipped down the mountain and continued south. Their departure was kept tight; word didn’t leak.

The thousand they brought were Li Mingjin’s personal guard, men who had lived and bled through real battles. With them at his back, this return was nothing like six years ago. The youth who left was gone; in his place came a seasoned commander.

Back in the capital, teahouse chatter finally drifted from the Fourth Prince to tales of Gucheng:

“Did you hear? The Third Prince is coming back for His Majesty’s sixtieth!”

“That Third Prince? The one from Gucheng?”

“That’s him. Five years ago he took over from General Wei up north. My cousin runs caravans, says Gucheng is booming. Everyone wants to move there.”

“Wasn’t Gucheng harried by the Guiyan constantly? Who would move into that?”

“You’re out of date. Since the Third Prince arrived, he thrashed them so hard they haven’t dared show their faces for years. The people there are living sweet.”

“How sweet? Better than Beijing?”

“Listen: tax-free for the first three years, no famine, soldiers helping with spring plowing without taking a copper. Here in the capital, those louts ate at my shop and didn’t even pay, said to put it on the tab! We little folks, how can we stand that?”

“Compared like that… Gucheng really does sound good.”

“Good luck moving, household registration’s strict. It’s to smoke out spies. Langcheng copied the system and actually found a bunch of fake records. They run a tight ship up there. Whose idea was that?”

“They say the Third Prince’s strategist. Clever as anything.”

“And the consort opened a chain of public schools; poor kids can learn to read…”

While the city buzzed over their reforms, the chief eunuch hurried into the throne room.
“Your Majesty! The Third Prince is three li from the gate!”

The emperor couldn’t hide his excitement. He stood at once. “Come. We ride to welcome him!”

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Author’s Note
Third Prince: Darling, today we’re doing a xianxia time-travel story!
Luo Shuyu: All right.
Third Prince: I’m the all-powerful protagonist. You transmigrate into the villain master, love me in your own twisted way, strict and punitive. When I turn fourteen, you arrive—
Luo Shuyu: I’m a cold-blooded, overachieving transmigrator. Stricter than your original master. I drill you so hard you drop dead. The end.
Third Prince: …

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