Chapter Thirty-Eight: Using the Plan

The Flower-Edged Pavilion and the Hall of Harmony presented an altogether different scene. Bright candelabras illuminated the chamber until it seemed as radiant as day. In the center stood a long table carved from fragrant wood, while a cluster of palace maids, flitting about like butterflies among blossoms, delivered dishes, exchanging empty or unsatisfactory plates for fresh ones.

Li Longji appeared for all the world like a kindly elder, his gaze full of affection as he picked up a slice of melon from Shu and placed it delicately on a plate.

"Yu Huan, try this," he urged. "It arrived just today, still beaded with dew."

Yang Yuhuan, confronted by a mountain of dishes, felt her appetite vanish. She pouted charmingly, "My lord, if I eat any more, I shall become a little piglet."

"That would be splendid! I am the dark-faced lord; together, we are a match made in heaven."

His analogy made Yang Yuhuan laugh, her laughter as lovely as a flower reflected in water, softening Li Longji's heart yet again.

"My precious Yu Huan," he murmured, "to add a fraction would make you too tall, to subtract would make you too short. Powder would render you too pale, rouge too red. Of all the delicacies in the world, none are as delicious as you. I need only watch you eat, and it is a feast for me—no food required."

"My lord, your words are the sweetest music in the world."

She set down her silver chopsticks, her limpid eyes shining, and slowly nestled into Li Longji's embrace.

Gao Lishi, ever keen-eyed, did not even need to look to know what was happening. He discreetly signaled the palace maids and attendants, who retreated on silent feet, leaving the vast Hall of Harmony to the pair.

Moonlight poured across the pavilion, flooding the floor like liquid silver. Two elegant shadows, cast by the flickering candlelight, merged slowly on the ground.

...

After a while, Li Longji sat up, donning his long robe, attempting to stand. Suddenly, his legs trembled, and he felt unsteady.

"My lord, do not go," she pleaded.

He lay back, drawing the warm, jade-like figure into his arms, his fingers twirling through her waterfall of glossy hair. Eyes closed, he savored the fleeting passion.

"My lord was so fierce tonight, it was as if you meant to devour me," Yang Yuhuan teased, biting her lip.

Li Longji did not reply, but a smile curled at his lips. He knew these words were but flattery, yet they delighted him. What an enchanting flower she was; just seeing her made all his worries melt away.

Yet worries are worries, and do not vanish with mere pleasure. After a long pause, feeling rested, he sat up, resting her head on his thigh for comfort.

"Aman is growing old."

"My lord..."

"Let me finish," Li Longji said, patting her creamy back gently to stop her words. "The realm is at peace, my wish fulfilled. Now all I desire is to remain with you, Yu Huan, for life, free of all burdens."

"The empire, I shall entrust to the Crown Prince and his brothers."

Yang Yuhuan had never expected to hear such words. She struggled to sit up, but he restrained her, and she could only tilt her head, her pale cheeks still flushed with intoxicating color.

"Your Majesty! What do you mean by this?"

"Do not fret," he soothed, "it is not a matter to be decided in a day. You are my closest confidante, so I speak with you first." Seeing her eyes fill with tears, he comforted her, "Why are you crying over this? It will spoil your makeup—such a pity."

"I am but a willow by the river, my makeup hardly matters. My lord, are you weary of me?"

Li Longji sighed. This woman possessed a childlike innocence, and it was this very trait that captivated him. Yet some truths had to be spoken.

"Your kinsman is not a simple man. He covets Li Linfu's post, never pondering if that position is easy to hold."

Hearing her family's affairs mentioned, Yang Yuhuan stilled her tears. The emperor rarely spoke of such matters—something must have happened. She listened intently.

"Yang Guozhong sought to join forces with Chen Xilie to embroil Li Linfu in a conspiracy, but the old fox was prepared. With a deft counterstroke, not only did he clear his own name, but forced Yang Guozhong to leave the capital."

"Such cunning—your cousin cannot hope to match it. I tell you these things so you might advise him to be patient. Li Linfu is seventy; sooner or later, the post will be his."

"Will leaving the capital be dangerous?"

"If Li Linfu truly dared, it would cost him his entire household. He is not so foolish. But your cousin, if he wishes for safety, should leave the Crown Prince alone. I cannot shield him forever."

Li Longji's words did not fully ease Yang Yuhuan's concerns, but she had no better counsel. The emperor had spoken plainly; he would not retract his decree. Even a sovereign must preserve face.

Within Chang'an, Yang Guozhong's residence, though not as numerous as Li Linfu's, surpassed it in scale, occupying nearly half a city ward.

Today was peculiar. When the master returned, he was cheerful, rewarding the servants and bestowing gifts; the atmosphere was festive, even at supper. But after the palace messenger arrived, everything changed.

In a lavishly decorated study, shadows flickered across the lattice windows; outside, the servants watched anxiously, scarcely daring to breathe. A sharp sound rang out, followed by their master's signature roar.

"Infuriating!"

Yang Guozhong smashed a cup, still unsatisfied, searching the room for more objects to break.

"What does His Majesty mean by this?"

His confidants sat with him. Xianyu Xiang, past fifty, had just returned from Shu. After last year's disastrous campaign, he had led over ten thousand troops—military men from Jian'nan, auxiliary forces from various prefectures, and conscripted locals—only to be utterly defeated. He escaped with his life alone.

Afterward, Yang Guozhong concealed the defeat and, like Gao Xianzhi of Anxi, was recalled to the capital, temporarily residing in Yang Guozhong's mansion.

"Zhongtong, this is not the emperor's will. It is surely engineered by that old villain Li Linfu!"

Yang Guozhong, though lacking great talent, had a measure of cunning. He had just accused Li Linfu, and the counterattack came immediately. To believe Li Linfu uninvolved was folly.

"At this point, the matter is settled. Unless... shall we appeal to the lady in the palace again?"

"It is useless. This is the emperor speaking through her to the grandee. If the monarch has no recourse, what use is begging the palace? Better to seek Lady Guo, Lady Han, and Lady Qin—their words might sway him."

Dou Hua, secretary of the Imperial Secretariat, shook his head. He had served before the throne long enough to see through such matters.

"It is not yet time," Xianyu Xiang said. He was seldom in the capital, but a bystander often sees most clearly. "The emperor’s intentions are obvious. He must leave, but before departing, the grandee should visit the palace."

"If we are to leave, what purpose is there in going to the palace?"

Yang Guozhong paused, a vase of celadon in his grasp.

"To weep. The more pitiful, the better. Thus, Li Linfu will hesitate. Do not forget, he has been prime minister for twenty years; every province owes him. If he fears to strike, your return to the capital will be assured."

"This weeping is to remind His Majesty not to forget his promise to the grandee."

Xianyu Xiang took the vase from his hand and placed it back on the table.

"High."

"Indeed, it is high!"

Dou Hua and the others applauded. This was foolproof—let the emperor owe a favor, and future gains would be plentiful.

Yang Guozhong, though still resentful, gradually relaxed his expression.

"The old villain has gone too far."

"If you are still aggrieved, I have an idea. Even if it won't topple him, it might cause him some discomfort."

"Oh? What is the plan, Zhongtong?"

Yang Guozhong grew interested. Xianyu Xiang had been his friend for twenty years, closer even than his kin, and he always heeded his advice.

"News says that Li Xianzhong, deputy commander of the Shuofang garrison, has defected beyond the northern desert. There may be room for intrigue here."

"You mean..."

"Do not forget, Li Linfu is the official commander."

Yang Guozhong considered, then slapped his thigh. "Marvelous! The old villain and Li Xianzhong must have dealings."

"Even if they do not, we can manufacture some."

Dou Hua lowered his voice, sinisterly.

The group exchanged glances, then burst into laughter, leaving the servants outside utterly confused.

What could have happened now?