029. Untitled

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The so-called rumor that Li Xi was summoned halfway by Prince E was merely his own speculation; in fact, he had no idea where Li Xi was at the moment. The family members he’d sent to fetch Li Xi had waited outside Chengtian Gate since early morning, four in total, all trusted confidants—smart, capable, and reliable. They didn’t know Li Xi by sight, but they did recognize Third Li, who had been thoroughly briefed before the departure from the palace: he was to “accompany” Li Xi throughout. Third Li was not a careless man; he understood the deeper meaning of “accompany” and would mind his manners. So why had they all vanished? If Li Xi alone had disappeared, it might be suspected he’d harbored some ill intentions and slipped away. But for Third Li and his own family to vanish as well—was that not exceedingly strange?

The only explanation left was that Li Xi had acted on his own and changed the plan at the last moment, going straight to Prince E’s residence first. Li Zhan had instructed Li Xi to visit Prince E after the banquet. Li Xi had already reported this to him during the palace feast and even asked for his advice—should he return to Fengyi Ward first or go to see Prince E? Liu Motong had told him to return to Fengyi Ward first, and visit Prince E later. The hurdle with Madam Yang Ge had to be overcome. The original plan was to gather a large group and descend upon the Yang residence under the pretext of offering congratulations, making a great ruckus—joking and jesting, laughing and teasing. The old lady, after all, was advanced in years; a few rounds of this and she’d be thoroughly addled, making everything that followed much easier.

Now, with the addition of Prince E as a trump card, victory seemed assured. Shi Xiong further refined the strategy, instructing Li Xi to speak little and kowtow often upon meeting the old lady, and to exaggerate his emotions—displaying both great joy and sorrow, his expression best if contorted and his features askew. After two years apart, the sudden reunion with kin, the emotional agitation, and the excess of wine—such exaggerated expressions would not seem out of place. Even if the old lady reached out to touch his face, he could muddle through. Of course, to be safe, it was best not to let her touch his face at all; if she insisted, Li Xi would be reminded to go attend his appointment with Prince E, Li Zhan.

The infamous “Little Tyrant of the Capital” might not be known to Madam Yang Ge, but with so many supporters present, Liu Motong was confident his mother’s sworn sister would unhesitatingly let her grandson go out to keep the appointment.

One well-played move would bring the entire board to life. With Prince E as an ally, it was as if wings had been added to a tiger. Three days would pass easily; after three days, the boy would be sent out of the capital, never to return, and all would be well.

Yet, at this critical juncture, the boy entertained crooked thoughts.

“A fool who thinks himself clever! If I truly wanted you dead, would you still be alive today?” Liu Motong ground his teeth in silent fury, though a gentle smile graced his face.

As dusk settled, after calming the others, Liu Motong quietly called Shi Xiong over. Before he could speak, Shi Xiong, his face dark and brooding, said, “Don’t worry, Big Brother. Even if I have to tie him up, I’ll bring him back.”

“Tie him up?” Liu Motong smiled bitterly to himself. “Even to tie him up, you’d have to find him first. Heaven help us now—may that boy realize his mistake and stop trying to outsmart himself.”

Shi Xiong was about to leave, but Liu Motong did not stop him. Some things, even among sworn brothers, were better left unsaid. He had already stepped into a mire—why drag his friends and brothers in as well?

Just as Shi Xiong placed a foot in the stirrup and gripped the saddle, ready to mount, a crisp jangle of bronze bells sounded, followed by the rhythmic clatter of hooves. Looking up through the evening mist, he saw a lone rider racing from the north—the coachman Liu Motong had sent to fetch Li Xi, disheveled and drenched in sweat.

Shi Xiong’s heart gave a jolt: Had the boy run off?

In truth, Li Xi had never considered escaping; he knew it would be a dead end. Nor did he take it upon himself to visit Li Zhan. As soon as the feast ended, he took Cui Yingying to find Third Li, insisting on leaving the palace at once for Fengyi Ward. He could no longer endure the torment of uncertainty. Since he had to face it sooner or later, why not face it now? As the saying goes: The sooner you die, the sooner you’re reborn.

With Li Xi’s “guidance,” Third Li had also snatched a dancing girl named Green Pearl—sixteen, fresh as spring water—whom he cherished like a treasure. Yet when Li Xi found him, he was in distress.

Third Li’s wife, Madam Liu, was his maternal cousin. They’d been married ten years, with six pairs of children. The Li family, having produced only single sons for generations, owed its newfound prosperity to Madam Liu’s efforts. No wonder she had grown overbearing with time. Third Li both respected and feared her. Bringing home a concubine unannounced would inevitably cause an uproar. The squabble, he didn’t mind—he’d endure a scolding and put on a smiling face—but tonight he was to accompany Li Xi to Fengyi Ward. With Yang Zan dead, it was Third Li who first hatched the plan to substitute Li Xi for Yang Zan to deceive the old lady. It concerned the family’s future honor and disgrace—how could he not be present?

The problem was that, without his protection, Green Pearl might not escape his wife’s wrath unscathed. Death seemed unlikely, but a sound thrashing was inevitable. Just imagining the delicate Green Pearl wailing under his wife’s cudgel made Third Li’s heart ache and bleed.

Li Xi suggested he stash the girl at an inn or a friend’s house for now, then bring her home after matters at Fengyi Ward were settled—killing two birds with one stone. Third Li happily adopted the plan. He had been too emotionally involved to see such an obvious solution.

After the feast in the Taiji Palace, Li Chun issued an edict to open the Chengtian and Vermilion Bird Gates for the officers and soldiers. They had entered through a side gate but would exit through the main gate—a rare honor for many of the minor officials and junior officers. Many would never have another chance to set foot in the palace again. So, once outside Chengtian Gate, they paused to gaze back in awe, pointing and remarking, then crossed the main street south to the majestic Vermilion Bird Gate, lingering long after they’d exited.

“Move along! No loitering!” barked the guards at the gate.

“Dogs bullying people with power! What’s so great about you?” grumbled the drunken young officials. Still, no one dared linger; they would have their own time to flaunt authority as officials, but not here—these were no amateurs, and the stage was not theirs.

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Li Xi, sensible as ever, made no stops outside Vermilion Bird Gate. As soon as he passed through the grand portal, he and Cui Yingying boarded the carriage Liu Motong had dispatched. This time, Liu Motong had sent three men, all known to Third Li. After some whispered consultation, two riders took Green Pearl to an inn. Third Li alone escorted Li Xi to Fengyi Ward. As they passed the North Gate of the West Market, two yellow-clad riders galloped up, reined in their horses, and asked who among them was Staff Officer Yang of Pingshan. They were eunuchs from Prince E’s residence, sent to fetch Li Xi for an audience with Li Zhan.

Who would dare defy the Little Tyrant’s summons? Third Li had no choice but to send the coachman to report back to Liu Motong, while he personally drove the carriage for the ninth-rank staff officer, following the eunuchs to the Tenth Princes’ Compound.

The Tenth Princes’ Compound was in the northeast corner of Chang’an, also called the Sixteenth Princes’ Compound—a prestigious enclave for the imperial clan. Though Li Zhan held a princely title, being underage, he still resided mostly with his mother in the palace. Nonetheless, by custom, he still had a prince’s residence in the compound; for this meeting with Li Xi, he had come out specially.

Third Li, an adept driver, sped all the way to the Tenth Princes’ Compound, only to find that Prince E, having waited in vain for Li Xi, had gone out visiting friends, leaving instructions: if Li Xi came, he was to go home, and the prince would call for him another time.

Having been stood up by Li Zhan, Li Xi and Third Li dared not show any complaint as they took their leave. The eunuch who’d received them, feeling apologetic, gifted them a pair of palace lanterns.

Li Xi had no idea what use these lanterns might have, but Third Li treasured them as if they were gold. With these lanterns, he drove the carriage at breakneck speed through the city, unafraid of the patrols enforcing curfew.

The coachman sent to report back didn’t fare as well; as soon as the curfew drums sounded, the patrols were out, and he had to dodge and detour endlessly. By the time he finally reached the west gate of Fengyi Ward, Third Li was just arriving as well.

Third Li was flushed with pride—racing through the streets of Chang’an after the curfew was an exhilarating experience.

The young men waiting at the ward gate had heard from Liu Motong that a noble named Yang was coming, but none had ever seen him. Though Third Li was a retainer of the Liu household, he had only been close to the eldest son for a few months, so few recognized him. Now, seeing him arrive in high spirits, his face glowing, the youths mistook him for the distinguished guest and, overjoyed, tossed him into the air in the “Step by Step Higher” ritual to welcome honored guests.

Liu Motong had boasted that his new sworn brother had, with his unmatched “Yang-Style Flying Strike,” dominated the beauty contest at the Taiji Palace, winning the emperor’s notice, the imperial concubine’s praise, and a reward of five thousand strings of cash.

At such an age, with dreams and heroes to worship, how could the boys not show their admiration?

Third Li, bewildered, was tossed skyward before he could explain.

Li Xi had never traveled in such a jolting carriage. After dozens of miles, he was dizzy and nauseous, unable to move. Cui Yingying, though pale, fared better; as soon as the carriage stopped, she rushed to the ditch by the city wall to vomit.

As the youths tossed their supposed hero, Cui Yingying returned from the ditch. Li Xi was still in the carriage. Mistaking Third Li for Li Xi, the girl suddenly shouted, “Don’t bully him!”

Her lion’s roar startled everyone. Just then, as Third Li was descending through the air, the catchers hesitated a moment. Thus, a new “Yang-Style Faceplant” was born.

Thud! Dust flew. The head of the Yang family hit the ground, grimacing in pain.

“Oh, Brother Yang!” cried the crowd, scrambling in confusion.

Li Xi emerged from the carriage, still dizzy, and asked Cui Yingying, “What are they so happy about?”

“Weren’t they tossing you?” Cui Yingying, surprised, looked from Li Xi to Third Li lying in the dust, then burst out laughing. “You fools, you got it all wrong…”

Li Xi stared in amazement, thinking: This silly girl’s laughter is rather charming.

Once the confusion cleared up, the crowd left Third Li in the dust and hoisted the supposed “Yang-Style Flying Strike” inventor, parading him through the ward as if on a victory tour.

Yang Zan’s residence was in the northwest corner of Fengyi Ward. Half a month ago, it had been an ordinary, shabby house, the gate’s black paint peeling. Now, under Liu Motong’s personal direction, it was newly renovated and festooned with red, exuding festive cheer.

On Liu Motong’s orders, the Liu family’s second steward, Liu Wan, had arrived early, acting as chief steward of the Yang household. The elderly housekeeper, Yang Fu, was over sixty and ailing; the other household members were too young, so Liu Wan’s presence was a necessity.

At last, the long-awaited young master returned, making a grand entrance—borne on the shoulders of a crowd of elegant young gentlemen!

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The group advanced in perfect order—some clearing the way ahead, some maintaining order at the sides, others providing a cheering rear guard. This was nothing unusual; many of them served as forerunners in the Crown Prince’s retinue and were well-practiced.

“They’re here, they’re here!” shouted Liu Wan, slapping his thigh in excitement and leaping higher than any of the Yang family. He raced back to the gate, urging the musicians to strike up, ordering the two maidservants in green skirts, “Quick, go inform the old lady!” Then he called for Granny Qi, Madam Yang Ge’s personal maid, to scatter coins and fruit for the neighborhood children. The kids scrambled and fought for the treats, adding to the jubilant atmosphere.

Granny Qi, smiling broadly, asked in confusion, “Aren’t we supposed to scatter the treats at the gate?”

Liu Wan laughed, “If we wait until the gate, it’ll be too late! The young lord is being carried back!”

“What!” Granny Qi gasped, fearing something had happened to the young master.

Realizing his slip, Liu Wan hastened to correct himself: “Not carried—hoisted! Or rather, on their shoulders—oh, never mind…”

He couldn’t find the right words in his flustered excitement.

As they spoke, the noble youths rounded the corner with Li Xi hoisted overhead, smiling and waving to the neighbors.

Granny Qi, spotting her young master from afar, finally relaxed, and rolled her eyes at Liu Wan’s busy figure. “Hmph, that old Liu can’t say a straight sentence to save his life.”

Excited, she patted her daughter, “Niu’er, go tell the old lady—say…”

But six-year-old Niu’er tossed her head and answered crisply, “I know!” and darted inside. Granny Qi was gratified; even her youngest was sensible and helpful now—surely good days were coming.

Just as she thought this, Niu’er’s voice rang out from within the house, carrying clear as a bell: “Old Madam, the young master’s been carried home!”

Granny Qi’s face changed. She gasped, dumped her basket of coins, and ran toward the inner quarters, shouting breathlessly, “Not carried—hoisted—lifted—!”

As the Yang household gate drew near, Li Xi felt a growing calm. At this point, he would simply take things as they came.

The plaque above the gate bore an inscription by Yang Zan’s grandfather, with his name and seal. After two years away, seeing his ancestor’s calligraphy, Li Xi knew he must bow in respect.

He took a deep breath, glanced at the crowd of neighbors, and knelt to pay his respects.

He kowtowed three times, praying silently: “Ancestors of the Yang family, Yang Zan died for his country, a loyal martyr, the pride of the clan. I, Li Xi, through a twist of fate, now bow before your name. Though forced by circumstance, I bear no ill intent. For this day I borrow Yang Zan’s name; I shall act with caution, bringing no shame to the family. Heaven bear witness to these words.”

Liu Motong stepped forward to help him up, openly urging, “Don’t keep the old lady waiting,” while quietly adding, “Those with red sashes are our people.”

Wiping his tears, Li Xi called to Cui Yingying, “Come, let’s greet Grandmother.”

Unconcerned by the curious glances, he took Cui Yingying’s hand and strode into the house.

The Yang residence was modest, with three inner courts. Following a brick-paved path led to a main hall, a miniature version of the Hall of Virtue—this was the main reception room. On either side, walls had small doors; the left led to the rear courtyard, the family’s private quarters.

The rear courtyard also had a hall, smaller than the main, with a pond out front—lotus leaves withering, autumn water chestnuts ripe for harvest. On either side of the pond were small wings; Yang Zan’s grandmother lived in the left wing.

The courtyard was small, shaded by lilacs, with a small building facing south.

The yard was already crowded with family and neighbors.

Liu Motong had told Li Xi that Yang Zan’s father had once been ennobled for military merit, making the Yang family wealthy residents of the capital, their home in Yining Ward. But fortune did not last—when Yang Zan was three, his father was wrongfully killed, his mother taken into the palace and soon died of grief. Grandmother and grandson were sent to the Granary Prison, suffering for three years. When Yang Zan was six, Li Chun redressed the injustice, and the family was pardoned. But by then, the Yang family had fallen; their old home sold to pay debts, leaving the two to live among commoners in Fengyi Ward.

After such hardship, Madam Yang Ge became a devout Buddhist, believing in the equality of all beings and treating others with humility. She lived many years in Fengyi Ward, making friends everywhere. The neighbors knew her as a kindly old woman, few realizing she was a titled court lady or that the quiet eldest son was a viscount by imperial decree.

Through the gate to the small courtyard, along a winding corridor, they came at last to the door of Madam Yang Ge’s quarters.

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