Chapter Eight: Cannot Stay for Long (Part Two)

Feng Sixu survived, but his mouth was twisted, his eyes askew, his movements awkward, and his speech and actions resembled those of a three-year-old child. In public, he chased after the maids serving him, demanding milk. The physicians called it dementia—he had been beaten senseless.

Empress Wu summoned the offenders, stripped Xue Huaiyi of his rank as General of the Left Guard, and ordered him to focus solely on overseeing the construction of the Bright Hall. He was forbidden to enter Chang’an without cause. The Thousand Oxen Guard was ordered to lay down their arms and watch as the Left Guard committed violence. Quan Ce too suffered impeachment, enduring a barrage of ambiguous praise and blame, while his subordinates received twenty strokes each.

Also implicated was Shangguan Wan’er. Empress Wu accused her of misconduct and debauchery within the palace, issued an edict admonishing her, demoted her three ranks, from fifth-grade attendant to eighth-grade attendant. Most of her duties were handed to another favored lady-in-waiting, Xie Yaohuan.

Rumors spread like wildfire throughout the palace, filthy words aimed directly at Shangguan Wan’er. The sons of nobles and princes wandering the halls were all rumored to be her secret guests. The talented woman was on the brink of becoming a notorious beauty; all who were recognized as Empress Wu’s favorites were attributed to her. Storybooks chronicling her amorous escapades began circulating from Eastern Luoyang, filling Chang’an within days.

Shangguan Wan’er appeared unperturbed, moving freely through the palace gates, her manner indulgent and carefree. From Emperor Ruizong Li Dan at the top to the lowest guards, all experienced her charm and allure. The lucky ones even caught a glimpse of her delicate hands.

As a young, handsome captain among the Thousand Oxen Guard, Quan Ce, always present before Empress Wu, naturally became one of Shangguan Wan’er's targets for flirtation. He responded with caution, remaining respectful and never overstepping. Later generations would claim Shangguan Wan’er was the archetype of a liberated woman in the Tang dynasty, but she was never as decadent as these rumors suggested. Besides, the change in her demeanor before and after Empress Wu’s accusation was far too drastic.

Upon reflection, if someone was manipulating events, Shangguan Wan’er might not only have refrained from resisting but willingly sullied her own reputation to cooperate. The answer was obvious.

Quan Ce felt a chill. His mind spun, recalling the judgment of Wang Xifeng: “Too clever for her own good, she brought ruin upon herself.” Like an ant on a hot skillet, he wished he could immediately commit an indiscretion with Shangguan Wan’er to erase all traces of the past.

On duty at the Bath Hall, Shangguan Wan’er, attended by her maids, bathed in plain white robes, her long hair flowing like clouds, unbound and delicate. Suddenly her footing slipped, and with a soft cry she leaned onto him. Quan Ce stepped forward, one hand at her waist, the other around her back, catching her securely, her fragrance filling his arms, the moisture clinging to her hair.

“Oh, let go, sir!” Shangguan Wan’er half-played, half-meant it. Quan Ce’s embrace was too firm, their bodies pressed tightly together. Her tender skin could feel the bronze buckle of his leather belt digging into her.

Quan Ce remained unmoved, holding her for quite a while, making sure plenty of palace staff and eunuchs saw before he released her. “I apologize for my rudeness. Are you unharmed, Attendant?”

Shangguan Wan’er did not struggle, obediently leaning against his shoulder, then retreating, her gaze lingering, with a hint of anger. “I am unharmed. Sir, your recklessness is vexing. If you do not grant me a portrait, I shall not forgive you.”

Quan Ce knew this was a little performance from a palace beauty, but he was momentarily distracted, replying with an awkward smile, “If Attendant commands, I ought to comply. Alas, sketching takes time, and your hours are precious, seldom free.”

Shangguan Wan’er’s smile bloomed like a flower, her eyes tranquil and deep. “I care not for such excuses. Today I cling to you, sir. If I cannot have a portrait, at least something must be left upon paper, or I shall be at a loss.”

Quan Ce fell silent.

Shangguan Wan’er waved her hand. A lady-in-waiting brought brush and ink. “Sir, begin your writing. Your last Buddhist verse was neat; perhaps a couplet will suffice.” Her voice was distant, tinged with utter boredom.

A tender place in Quan Ce’s heart stirred. Once one enters the world, one is fated for hardship. This deep palace was a devouring world, and the talented maiden before him, though seemingly powerful, was ultimately a slave to power.

He took up the brush, and with practiced ease, wrote four simple characters, each as vivid as a painting. From the delicate maiden turning back, to lingering in the marketplace, roaming the world, and finally retiring to the countryside, he himself was unsure what he meant to convey.

“A beauty, indeed.”

Shangguan Wan’er read aloud and laughed coquettishly. “Sir, you brush me off so easily. Of course I am a beauty. For the artistry, I’ll let you off this time.”

Quan Ce saw she was deliberately misinterpreting him and did not argue, bowing slightly. “I am crude and untutored in calligraphy; you have my apologies.”

Shangguan Wan’er replied perfunctorily, hurriedly lowering her head and walking away. The lady-in-waiting who had brought the brush glanced at Quan Ce thoughtfully. Their eyes met; she was startled, covered her face, and returned to the Bath Hall.

Quan Ce frowned, pondering, unable to find a solution. That lady was Xie Yaohuan, highly trusted by Empress Wu. She had weathered many storms and should not have been so flustered—perhaps there was a hidden story?

As dusk fell, Quan Ce left the palace with two close comrades from the Thousand Oxen Guard, named Lai Chong and Han Zhai, both from noble families of the Guanlong aristocracy. Yet, their title was no longer illustrious. During Emperor Gaozong’s thirty-year reign, after the dethronement event and the eradication of Grand Uncle Zhangsun Wuji, the Guanlong group had been suppressed. Though they retained inherited titles, power had slipped away, and few remained in office.

The two joked about Shangguan Wan’er all the way. Quan Ce’s face burned with embarrassment; it was his first time taking advantage of a woman, and worse, aiding in the slander of a woman's reputation for his own survival, leaving him deeply ashamed.

At the Danfeng Gate, Shazha Fu came forward with his horse. Quan Ce exchanged handshakes and farewells with Lai Chong and Han Zhai.

“Sir!” Two voices overlapped.

One was his cousin Wang Hui, face dark and resolute, accompanied by a young man of about twenty, dressed as a Guard Officer from a noble house, smiling.

The other was Wu Youji, lone and mounted, dressed in casual attire, his expression teasing.

“Cousin, Commander Wu,” Quan Ce greeted them.

Wu Youji waved. “Don’t call me Commander. We’re family, call me Uncle. I heard you had some luck with a beauty today, so I’ve come to offer congratulations. Wang’s eldest son wishes to join me, I presume?”

Wang Hui’s expression was conflicted, tongue-tied. The Guard Officer beside him laughed heartily. “Commander Wu, a pleasure. I am Liu Tong, Guard Officer of the Left Guard. Wang Hui is stern; upon hearing the news, he was angry rather than pleased. If not for us, General Quan would’ve taken a couple of punches first.”

“Guard Officer Liu, my regards. Please send my greetings to Princess Chang Le.” Wu Youji was courteous, making Liu Tong’s identity clear: he was the grandson of old Princess Chang Le, a member of the Li family. He then smoothed things over. “Sir had no intention; Wang Hui need not blame him. I hear you have a rest day tomorrow. How about a night out at Pingkang Lane?”

Wu Youji had invited him before; Quan Ce couldn’t refuse again. “Uncle, with your invitation, I dare not decline. Cousin, Guard Officer Liu, Lai Chong, Han Zhai, why not all join?”

Everyone’s expressions were peculiar, but none refused. The six of them, with their attendants, set out in grand style for Pingkang Lane in search of entertainment.

This assembly was a curiosity: a peripheral member of the Wu family, an in-law of the Li family, and descendants of Longxi—all types currently out of favor at court, gathered together in full.