Chapter 81: The Campaign for Yanyi (Part Five)

Quan Ce was temporarily residing at the Princess Taiping’s residence. The siege at the Princess Yiyang’s mansion had already been lifted; Shuang Li and Quan Li were both released and allowed to return. Every item damaged during the search had been replaced, and the new ones were even more valuable than the originals. The guards from the Thousand Cavalry Command had also sent people over to do a thorough cleaning; the tiles and walls inside and out were polished to a gleaming shine.

Quan Xiang, the steward, went to Princess Taiping’s residence to seek instructions, reporting that everything in the mansion had been restored and only lacked its master. He inquired if his young lord could return home to be cared for.

Quan Ce was more than willing; after all, it was far more convenient to conduct his affairs on his own turf. However, Princess Taiping would not allow it. She bestowed some gifts upon Shuang Li, dismissed Quan Xiang with a few words, and gave strict orders that Quan Ce was not to leave before his recovery.

Quan Xiang returned to the mansion, disheartened. With the young lord absent, the household seemed to have lost its backbone, and no one had any spirit in their work.

That very noon, a heavy-weight visitor arrived to pay a call on the ailing Quan Ce—his superior, Doulu Qinwang, the Minister of the Court of Diplomatic Reception. Yet this consummate statesman hardly looked the part of a concerned visitor; he swept in with a storm of activity, bringing along a crowd of officials and clerks from every department of the Diplomatic Court, each clutching a thick stack of documents.

Doulu Qinwang stood by the bed, expressing concern and holding Quan Ce’s hand with deep sincerity. “Vice Minister, you have suffered such misfortune. There is little this old man can do for you. You are still young, and to be confined to bed for so long must be dull and lonely. Your mind has always been your greatest treasure. Should you languish in illness and lose your sharpness, it would be a tragedy. Thus, I have instructed these subordinates to select the most enjoyable official matters and read them to you. You can offer your decisions, keeping your mind honed and providing yourself with some diversion. Isn’t that delightful?”

Hearing this, Quan Ce’s eyes brimmed with tears.

Doulu Qinwang burst out laughing. “Don’t get sentimental! This is all an old man can do. I will go pay my respects to Her Highness Taiping. The rest of you, begin at once, and serve the Vice Minister well—do not slack off!”

His subordinates, lacking his thick skin, blushed and bowed their heads, accepting the command in silence.

Quan Ce watched the old fox waddle off, shook his head with a bitter smile, then arched his brow. “Gentlemen, I beg your pardon. As for the routine and miscellaneous affairs, each department head may handle them as appropriate and submit them to me for signature. The most urgent matter is the grand ceremony for the submission of the Xitujue Khusra. I have given it some thought—if we add a few religious events to the itinerary, it should suffice. The Turks are also Buddhists, with both Yellow and Red Sects. As it happens, the Da Yun Sutra commentary has been completed, and we can invite Master Shenxiu to preach. The timing is just right. The Eastern Capital is not far from Mount Song; we can also visit Zhongyue Temple and ask Daoist Sima Chengzhen to speak on Daoist teachings. Both are preeminent masters of their respective faiths, which should be fitting. What do you all think?”

“I concur. Using the essence of Buddhism and Daoism to edify foreign vassals is precisely what the Celestial Empire ought to do,” one official replied.

“I agree as well…” echoed another.

Quan Ce nodded with a smile. “Very well. Let this be settled. You may each further refine the specific itinerary and submit it to the Grand Minister. However, this ceremony will coincide with the Grand Feast of the New Year. To clarify responsibilities, I assign the following: the Department of Rites is to focus solely on the foreign guests’ participation in the Grand Feast, and nothing else. The matter of Khusra’s submission will be overseen by Chief Clerk Lu. The position of Head of Department has long been vacant—before, I could manage personally, but now that’s no longer possible. Clerk Deng, you will temporarily assume the role.”

“At your command,” they all replied, bowing with even greater respect.

The Vice Minister, lying on his sickbed, not only kept abreast of affairs and made decisions, but also exercised command over his subordinates. With a few casual words, he stirred the very structure of the Diplomatic Court. Deng Huaiyu, once in a powerless post, now held real authority as acting head; Lu Zhaoyin was entrusted with the Khusra affair. If things went smoothly, they were sure to be promoted, and the question of who would truly lead the Department of Rites would be open once more. The only one left disappointed was the current head, who had failed to speak up in time and now found his seat in jeopardy.

After Doulu Qinwang’s visit, the western wing of Princess Taiping’s residence—where Quan Ce was staying—transformed into a branch of the Diplomatic Court. Every day, officials came in an endless stream to report on affairs and submit their thoughts.

At first, Quan Ce remained sharp and resourceful, but soon his strength waned. He needed half a day to respond, and eventually, inspiration deserted him altogether. He could only answer vaguely. A few days later, the head of the Department of Rites called on him three times in a single day; while he was still rambling on with his report, Quan Ce’s head lolled to one side and he fell fast asleep.

Yunü, who was tending him, had long disliked the meddling old official. She herded everyone out like wild ducks, tiptoed back inside, tucked a brocade quilt around him, and gazed at him gently. Perhaps Quan Ce was only a new acquaintance to her, but she had known of him for quite some time. Serving by Princess Taiping’s side, she was responsible for various secret affairs, one of which was monitoring Quan Ce’s activities. The more she watched, the more she admired him. The fact that the princess had now given her to Lord Quan was no doubt a result of this observation.

“He’s gone…” Suddenly, Quan Ce opened his eyes, bright and cunning, without a hint of weariness.

Yunü started, then instantly understood. With a teasing smile, she replied, “He’s gone. I’ve already instructed the gatekeepers not to let him disturb you again for at least three or five days.”

“Good work,” Quan Ce nodded approvingly, crooking his finger for her to come closer. “I have a task for you.”

Yunü could not help but laugh, stepping to his bedside and inclining her head to listen.

Night fell on the main hall of Princess Taiping’s residence. The princess sat alone at her desk, eyes half-closed, listening as a court musician played the finished composition of “Butterfly Lovers” on the flute.

Three shadowy figures slipped in as nimbly as cats. The musician paid them no heed—he was one of their number.

“Your Highness, in recent nights, at the hour of the rat, Lord Quan rises to relieve himself and lingers in the privy for as long as two quarters of an hour…”

“I’ve stationed men along his route for surveillance. A few have been killed. They will likely screen the path in advance from now on…”

“My men once spotted a figure in black. Following him, he was seen entering the Duke of Zhou’s mansion.”

Princess Taiping smiled faintly. “Enough, Xiangnu. Has there been any unusual activity from Wu Yanyi recently?”

“When news spread that the Diplomatic Court would conduct a military review, Wu Yanyi flew into a rage and stormed off to the Feilong Stable, causing chaos. Lately, though, things have quieted down. I heard someone in the Thousand Cavalry submitted a training manual, and Wu Yanyi treasures it as a masterpiece.”

“Wu Yanyi recruited songstresses from Pingkang Ward, keeping a pair of exceptionally talented twins. I checked—the Music Bureau has no record of them, so they must have been sent by someone with an agenda.”

Princess Taiping’s lips curled slightly, betraying nothing, but her eyes showed satisfaction. If one does not devour others, how can one be considered royalty? Quan Ce’s awakening had not come too late.

She continued, “And what of Yunü? Has he made any move?”

“He has,” Xiangnu said disdainfully. “This afternoon he drove away the Diplomatic Court officials and gave Yunü instructions.”

“What instructions?” The princess frowned—Xiangnu was being coy, telling half and holding back half, enough to try anyone’s patience.

Xiangnu sniffed, “He had Yunü collect music scores suitable for solo instruments from the market and find a few composers. He wants to compose music, only for single instruments, and compile them into a collection.”

Princess Taiping smiled lightly. “That little rogue, always neglecting his proper duties. He dodges every attempt to teach him an instrument, yet throws himself wholeheartedly into these useless endeavors.”

Xiangnu had served by her side long enough to know her temperament. Though she scolded him with her lips, her heart was pleased. Only the poor Prince Consort—if he had half the charm of Lord Quan, perhaps things would not have descended to the current icy estrangement.