The first month of the ninth year of Yuanyou.
The mourning period for the Empress Dowager had come to an end. Zhao Xu took off his coarse unhemmed mourning garments, and put on the Son of Heaven's official court robes and ceremonial crown. He wore a dark black upper robe and a reddish-brown lower garment, with nine tassels hanging from the front and back of his crown, each strung with twelve white pearls—just as he had on the day of his ascension. Yet it was not the same.
On his ascension day, the pearl tassels had covered half his face; he had walked slowly, every step tentative, as if afraid to step on something fragile. Today, he walked steadily, one firm step after another, until he reached Chongqing Hall. The curtain was gone. Sunlight streamed straight through the hall doors, falling onto his face, bright enough to make him squint.
Once, there had been a curtain, and behind it had been someone—someone who had blocked the harsh light and the bitter wind for him. Now there was no one. He sat on the dragon throne, hands resting on his knees, fingers slightly curled. Behind him was only a wall, hung with a painting: the osmanthus tree in the Imperial Garden, with two figures crouching beneath it, one tall and one small, watching ants crawl. It was the painting the Empress Dowager had ordered framed.
He glanced at the painting, then turned his gaze to the ministers below the hall.
"We shall change the reign title to Shaosheng."
Shaosheng. To inherit the wisdom of the former sage, and continue the reform policies. This was his own reign title—not chosen by the Empress Dowager, not decided by the ministers, but his alone.
Lü Dafang froze. He knew all too well what this reign title meant. It signaled the revival of the old policies from the Xining and Yuanfeng eras, the reopening of cases he had suppressed over the years. He opened his mouth to speak, but Zhao Xu had already continued.
"We have another edict."
He pulled a sheet of paper from his sleeve. It was old, its edges frayed, folded neatly. He unfolded it and laid it on the imperial desk. Liang Shicheng stepped forward, took the paper, unfurled it, and read it aloud in a clear, loud voice.
"Final Decree of the Empress Dowager: Shen Aheng has served His Majesty for five years, gentle, kind, respectful and diligent, never slacking day or night. In the late Emperor's time, she was promised a noble position. Now that His Majesty assumes personal rule, a queen shall be installed for the imperial palace. Though Lady Shen is of humble birth, she possesses great virtue, worthy to match a gentleman; she is hereby appointed Queen. Senior assisting ministers including Lü Dafang and Fan Chunren shall uphold the will of the late Emperor and myself, and shall not dismiss virtue for the sake of family status."
The court fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted into chaos.
"Your Majesty!" Lü Dafang stepped forward first, his voice trembling. "Lady Shen is a former palace maid, with no official rank, no noble family background. To appoint her Queen violates ritual, violates ancestral laws, it goes against—"
"Goes against what?" Zhao Xu's voice was not loud, but icy cold. He sat on the dragon throne, tapping the armrest gently with his finger. Once, twice. The hall was deathly quiet, and the tapping sound echoed like drumbeats against every minister's heart. "Prime Minister Lü, We recall that in the first year of Yuanyou, Sima Guang stated: 'The order of heaven and earth, the rites between ruler and minister, must not be disrupted.' Today We choose a queen—this is Our family matter, and also a state matter. Does the Prime Minister intend to teach Us how to run Our family, or how to rule Our realm?"
Lü Dafang stiffened, then dropped to his knees and prostrated himself. "This old subject dares not. This old subject only follows established precedents—"
"Established precedents." Zhao Xu let out a short laugh, sharp as light glinting off a blade. "The year We ascended, that was precedent. The Empress Dowager ruling behind the curtain, that was precedent. Precedent said the Emperor would assume personal rule at fourteen. We waited until seventeen. Precedent said a queen must be chosen from noble families. We—" He paused. "We have chosen for five years. The one We choose is not a palace maid. She is the one the Empress Dowager chose. She is—" He fixed his eyes on Lü Dafang. "She is Ours."
He picked up the final decree from the imperial desk and held it tightly. The paper was old, edges frayed. The Empress Dowager's handwriting was neat, every stroke steady, except the last one, which dipped downward, as if her hand had shaken. He held the paper as if holding her hand.
"Prime Minister Lü, before her passing, the Empress Dowager spoke with We at length through the night. She mentioned the Chegai Pavilion Poetry Case in the second year of Yuanyou." Zhao Xu's voice was calm, as if reading a judicial file. "She mentioned the charges against Cai Que, those who were implicated, and—" He paused. "She mentioned what seals you stamped, what words you spoke in those cases."
Lü Dafang's back slowly bent. He knelt on the brick floor, hands pressing against the ground, knuckles white. Those matters, the ones he thought were buried, the ones he thought no one would mention after the Empress Dowager's death—His Majesty knew everything. His Majesty had uncovered it all, in the files of the Imperial Secretariat, in the countless documents he had reviewed, in those silent afternoons by the Empress Dowager's sickbed. He had just stayed silent, waiting. Waiting for the Empress Dowager to pass, waiting to assume personal rule, waiting for this day.
"Prime Minister Lü, the Empress Dowager also said this. She said you are a loyal minister. She said what you did was for the Great Song. She said—" Zhao Xu's voice softened slightly. "She said when it is time to retreat, you must retreat. Do not let later generations say you were driven away."
Lü Dafang prostrated himself on the ground, shoulders shaking. He took off his official hat and laid it on the floor. He knelt there for a long time, so long that the sunlight outside the hall shifted from east to west, so long that his knees went numb, so long that ministers behind him knelt down one after another.
"This old subject—obeys the Empress Dowager's final decree. Obeys Your Majesty's edict."
Zhao Xu sat high above, watching it all. His palms were soaked with sweat, but he sat perfectly steady. He tucked the final decree back into his sleeve, alongside the old notes, the jade pendant, the wheat stalk, and the dried osmanthus flower.
"Proclaim the edict. Install Lady Shen as Queen. Change the reign title to Shaosheng."
That afternoon, Zhao Xu came to the Imperial Garden to find me. The osmanthus tree had not yet bloomed, its branches bare, but he stood beneath it, tilting his head to look at the twigs, as if seeing a tree full of golden blossoms.
"Aheng."
"Yes."
"They have agreed."
"Yes."
"The Empress Dowager left her final decree. They dare not oppose it."
"Yes."
He turned to look at me. He was so much taller now that I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes. Sunlight shone behind him, casting his shadow over me. His eyes were bright, full of light.
"Aheng, are you afraid?"
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid to be Queen. Afraid to manage the six palaces. Afraid those ministers will talk behind your back. Afraid that—" He paused. "Afraid We cannot protect you."
"You can protect me."
"How do you know?"
"Because you have protected me for five years. From age nine to fourteen. From when you couldn't reach the osmanthus blossoms, to standing in the court hall. From writing crooked little notes, to bringing out the Empress Dowager's final decree." I looked at him. "You can protect me."
He smiled, soft as wind rippling water. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His finger brushed my ear, light and quick, but his palm was warm, his fingertips calloused from years of holding brushes and scrolls.
"Aheng."
"Yes."
"They say you are a palace maid, unfit for ritual. They say you have no noble family, cannot be a mother to the realm. They do not know—" He paused. "They do not know that after you came, We ate properly. After you came, We slept properly. After you came, We learned to investigate cases, to make decisions, to stand in court and tell those ministers 'We will make her Queen.'" He lowered his head, looking straight into my eyes. "They do not know it was you who raised Us."
He fell silent. The wind blew, and the osmanthus branches swayed gently. He squeezed my hand a little tighter.
"Aheng."
"Yes."
"From now on, I will block all the storms from the court. But when we return here—" He looked at the Imperial Garden, at the osmanthus tree, at the low wall he had climbed over countless times. "When we return here, only in front of you do I dare to take off this mask. You must help me. Help me hold onto my heart. Don't let it—" He paused. "Don't let it turn completely cold in this court."
"I will."
He smiled, squeezing my hand even tighter. His hand was warm, hers was cool. Warmth and cold pressed together, slowly blending into the same temperature. He stood under the tree, tilting his head to stare at the bare branches.
"Aheng, when will the osmanthus bloom?"
"In autumn."
"Autumn. It will come soon."
"Yes. Soon."
He smiled, holding her hand firmly in his palm, never letting go.
That night, I wrote on a slip of paper: He issued the edict today. He made me Queen. The ministers opposed him, but he showed them the Empress Dowager's final decree. Lü Dafang knelt for a long time. He said he would block all the court storms for me. He said only in front of me can he take off his mask. He asked me to help him hold onto his heart, to keep it from growing cold. I will. I will help him for a lifetime. His heart beats fast. Mine beats fast too. Pressed together, we slowly fall into the same rhythm.
The moon outside the window was round and bright. The osmanthus had not bloomed yet. But he stood under the tree, tilting his head to look at the branches, as if seeing a tree full of golden flowers. He saw them. I saw them too.
[End of Chapter 39]