Chapter 126: The Fate of Li Tang (Part I)

August in Luoyang. The protagonist was not Quance and his Plum Blossom Inner Guard, but Fu Youyi.

Whenever a harsh official was executed, Fu Youyi would gather the local residents, assembling crowds in front of the Taichu Palace’s Zhetian Gate, celebrating joyfully and singing praises of grace.

At first, it was somewhat awkward, with only a few hundred people participating. But as time went on, the organizers gained experience, and both the court and the public gradually developed a taste for it. Volunteers and resources steadily increased. At the height of Zhou Xing’s desperate rebellion, Fu Youyi organized a massive public event with tens of thousands of people filling the square before the Zhetian Gate. Several bridges over the Luo River broke under the weight, causing thousands of citizens to fall into the river. Though the autumn waters were not deep, the people held their positions, shouting hoarsely in support of the Empress.

In the earlier events, Empress Wu had not appeared in person, sending the prime minister to convey her regards.

But at this final occasion, Empress Wu herself came to the Zhetian Gate. Besides the organized citizens, a throng of onlookers surged forward, emptying the streets of the city. Beneath the palace walls, as far as the eye could see, the crowd was a sea of heads. Even as people fell into the river, the singing and dancing continued unabated. Moved by the scene, Empress Wu ordered her attendants to guide and rescue the fallen, bestowing money and silk as tokens of consolation.

Fu Youyi received great favor, promoted to Secretariat Attendant and granted the noble title of Marquis of Yishui, becoming the center of attention like never before.

On the Zhetian Gate tower, Quance stood beside Empress Wu, witnessing the singular world she commanded and Fu Youyi’s distinguished honor and favor. Around them stood a circle of senior ministers in purple robes, while Quance’s plain white attire made him stand out conspicuously.

He had no desire to appear in such a setting, but when summoned by Empress Wu, he lacked the courage to refuse.

The purge of harsh officials suited Empress Wu’s needs and helped restore Quance’s reputation; yet it was only the first step—one best done discreetly, gradually accumulating virtue. A grand spectacle risked being misunderstood as deliberate showmanship, which would undo much of the careful groundwork.

Standing atop the towering city gate, Quance looked down at Fu Youyi kneeling below—a mere black dot—and narrowed his eyes, his gaze deep and inscrutable.

“Everyone, today we rejoice with the people. A banquet will be held at Taoguang Garden. We shall proceed,” Empress Wu concluded her public display, brushing aside her golden phoenix robe, radiant and in high spirits. “Quance, you shall join us.”

Not merely words, she reached out and took Quance’s hand, leading him off the Zhetian Gate.

Startled by the favor, Quance obediently followed step by step, sighing silently in his heart. At the banquet, he took the initiative.

After the feast at Taoguang Garden, Quance left the palace with the court officials. Conscious of his position, he strode briskly, head down, avoiding social interaction. Yet, he was stopped. Turning, he saw a stranger dressed in princely attire. Nearby, an official introduced him as Prince Shu, Li Yuanming—the near-last direct descendant of the Li Tang lineage, famed for his skill in raising sons and managing the household. His three sons were all well-behaved, moderate, and highly respectful. Quance had once dined with his eldest son. At the mention of Empress Wu, the prince rose and bowed eastward, impeccably courteous and unwavering. Despite Qiushen Ji’s numerous accusations and plots, Empress Wu remained unmoved.

“I’ve long heard that the young lord of the Quan family is both literary and martial, loyal and filial. Seeing you today, the praise is well deserved,” Li Yuanming bowed slightly, neither disrespectful nor embarrassing Quance. After all, the prince was of a generation senior to Quance’s grandfather.

“You flatter me, Your Highness. I am but a humble man drifting with the current. If I have maintained integrity, it is solely thanks to the Empress’s great grace,” Quance replied, accepting the olive branch, glad to defend himself—whether effectively or not. The mere chance to speak showed Li family’s anger toward him had lessened.

“I hear you play polo quite well. Perhaps one day we shall have a match,” Li Yuanming nodded with a smile and took his leave.

“I shall certainly come to seek Your Highness’s guidance,” Quance bowed deeply, watching him depart.

At the palace gate, Wei Yuanzhong, who had been exiled and recently reinstated to court, greeted Quance warmly, clasping hands and exchanging mutual regards, drawing curious glances from court officials. Di Renjie and Dou Luqin also saluted him from afar, aware of certain unspoken matters.

“Cousin, Mother invites you to the residence for a gathering,” came a clear young voice. At the palace gate was Xue Chongyin, eldest son of Princess Taiping, riding a chestnut horse. They were nearly half a generation apart, and their interactions were few. Usually, Xue Chongyin came at his mother’s behest to fetch Quance, earning some familiarity. Thus, Quance’s cousin had become his “cousin.”

Quance smiled and nodded, mounting his fine horse and slowing his pace to chat with Xue Chongyin. Though renowned for his literary reputation, Quance’s classical scholarship was mediocre; he knew more miscellaneous knowledge. Their conversation ranged freely, with Xue Chongyin often looking up in wonder and curiosity.

“Cousin, I want to see the distillation process at your manor. Is it affordable?” Upon reaching Princess Taiping’s main hall, Xue Chongyin asked, reluctant to part, tugging Quance’s sleeve.

“That’s your aunt’s household. Nothing there is costly. It’s worth asking your cousin,” came a slightly reproachful voice from afar. Princess Taiping appeared in a pink ruqun robe and pale yellow hezi sash, carrying a hint of youthful charm with light steps. A handsome, clean-shaven man followed her.

“Quance pays respects to Aunt,” he said.

“Child pays respects to Mother. Mother has business; child takes leave,” they bowed together. The playful mood vanished from Xue Chongyin’s face, now stern and formal. Without waiting for Princess Taiping’s response, he retreated, head lowered all the way.

For a moment, Quance also wished to do the same, but lacked the freedom, forced to endure and follow Princess Taiping into the hall for conversation.

“Counting the days, Commander Quan hasn’t visited for three months. Given your hard work and some success, I won’t hold it against you,” Princess Taiping waved away the attendant and sat down at the desk, folding her arms, her face serious and authoritative. “Tell me, was the harsh treatment of Qiushen Ji and the others your own decision or Mother’s instruction?”

Quance lowered his head, remaining silent.

Princess Taiping interpreted his silence as respect. “Mother values you. By dealing with these wolves, your tarnished name is nearly cleansed.”

“All thanks to the Empress’s grace,” Quance replied smoothly. This misunderstanding worked well.

Princess Taiping scoffed, “Don’t be too proud. Lai Junchen is still around. One day you’ll be a thorn in his side.”

Quance immediately wore a sorrowful expression, though he paid it little mind. Lai Junchen was Wu Chengsi’s lackey; their enmity began long ago over the imperial horse.

Princess Taiping softened her tone with some comforting words, saying he could come to her for support when needed. Quance listened gratefully but grew increasingly distant and bored. The ties of kinship and blood, amidst schemes and calculations, faded away. This woman before him was a player in the arena of power, no longer his aunt.

“How about Hou Sizhi?” Princess Taiping changed the subject abruptly.

“Reciprocates loyalty, trustworthy, useful,” Quance answered without hesitation. Hou Sizhi was a hawk of the Empress. Without her protection, his life was harsh; ordinary people wouldn’t dare take him in. Only Princess Taiping had the courage to shelter him, fittingly.

“I’ll give you face. You may keep him. But I recommend he not stay in the Northern Bureau,” Princess Taiping casually switched to formal self-address, issuing an official decree.

She continued, “That thankless Xie Yaohuan is truly detestable. I will strip her of rank sooner or later. It’s more fitting for your eldest brother to hold command of the Thousand Riders and the Eastern Capital’s Thousand Bull Guards.”

“But if Your Highness commands, I dare not disobey,” Quance cleverly fell in line.

Princess Taiping glanced at him, eyes narrowing, chuckling twice. “Don’t play tricks. Are you still busy this September?”

After the preamble, this was her true aim: to inquire about the Plum Blossom Inner Guard’s movements and gauge Empress Wu’s intentions.

Quance did not change his answer. “I have sent several elder attendants home to rest.”

Princess Taiping raised an eyebrow, nodded, then playfully pinched him twice, chiding him for not being more affectionate.

Even as Quance rose to take his leave, Princess Taiping remained frowning and displeased, sighing deeply. “That eldest brother has grown up—just like Chongyin. People are rare and closeness rarer still. Sometimes, I truly want to give him a few lashes.”

A fragrant servant whispered, “Princess, if you truly miss Lord Quan, why not have him serve in your household? Then, whether you wish to punish or reward, he won’t be able to escape.”

A strange expression flickered across Princess Taiping’s plump cheeks.

(End of chapter)