Empty.

Lady Mao spoke angrily, her cheeks puffed out, “This Cold Dance is my own creation, meant solely for the Emperor. There is no second person in the world who knows it. If you say my dance is not good, you can punish me as you wish. But to say I am worse than a mere novice—I cannot accept that. If the Emperor uses his power to bully me, I refuse to accept it.”

Li Chun was accustomed to docile concubines, soft as kittens, so encountering such a stubborn and fearless woman was a novelty to him. He found her amusing; after all, he was only teasing her. The more she reacted, the more entertained he became. Not only did he pardon her, but that very night, he kept her at his side in the Hall of Harmony.

After sharing the Emperor’s bed in the Hall of Harmony, Li Chun changed Mao’s name to Mao Lan, saying she possessed the grace of an orchid, and conferred upon her the title of Talented Lady. Over the following year, Mao Lan ascended rapidly, soon joining the ranks of the Nine Concubines, her status exalted, her favor unparalleled—even Noble Consort Guo would defer to her in daily affairs.

Before entering the hall, Chen Hongzhi quietly inquired of the eunuchs whether Tu Tu Chengcui had been there. The gatekeeper replied that he had already come and gone, leaving in high spirits. The eunuch dared not say more, only noting that the Left Guard Captain arrived elated and departed merrily.

Chen Hongzhi felt assured. When he reported to Li Chun, he simplified the account, avoiding details that might annoy the Emperor, carefully omitting the episode of Princess Taihe leaving the palace to save her husband. He inverted the truth, presenting the matter as a common drunken quarrel, with Cui Yudong as the instigator and the unfortunate victim being the Taoist priestess from the Temple of Profound Truth.

Li Chun listened, frowned, and sighed gloomily, “The consort I selected for Taihe is so worthless, throwing wine jugs at people—how capable he is!”

Chen Hongzhi replied cautiously, “Judge Cui now deeply regrets his actions, blaming himself bitterly. When I returned to the palace, he wished to follow me and plead for forgiveness, but I thought such a trivial matter shouldn’t be made a spectacle. If he is genuinely penitent, let him reflect at home. Why trouble the Emperor with it? So, I persuaded him to return. He left in tears, full of remorse, begging me repeatedly not to tell Princess Taihe.”

Lady Mao covered her mouth, giggling. Li Chun snorted, scowling, “He still knows shame, does he? But, Chen Hongzhi, you’re not much of a friend—he begged you not to say anything, and yet you told me?”

Chen Hongzhi replied, “Before the Emperor, how could I dare conceal anything? And besides, he only requested I not tell the princess, not that I couldn’t report to Your Majesty…”

“Clack!” A chess piece struck Chen Hongzhi’s forehead. The piece, carved from jade, bounced across the floor, sending two young eunuchs scrambling to retrieve it.

“Well, well, Chen Hongzhi, you’ve learned to twist words! What use have you for such tricks? How many heads do you think you have to spare?” Li Chun’s expression turned suddenly grim. Another chess piece flew at Chen Hongzhi, but missed.

“Ah, so now you can dodge, old servant.” Li Chun said, launching the third and fourth chess pieces in quick succession.

Chen Hongzhi could only manage a bitter smile, kneeling like a clay statue. At such times, anything one does is wrong; feigning ignorance is merely a lesser error. He knew the Emperor’s temperament too well—if he had a grievance, he had to vent it, or he’d suffocate. Yet he wondered why playing chess with Lady Mao had stirred such anger. Had Tu Tu Chengcui said something to provoke him? But when he left, he was cheerful. Though he was the Left Guard General and Captain of the Guards, to the Emperor he was merely a household servant; there was no reason for the master to restrain himself before a servant. So what was the cause?

Chen Hongzhi pondered, unable to resolve the puzzle.

“All right, all right, another toss and these chess pieces will be ruined.” At the crucial moment, Lady Mao intervened, helping Chen Hongzhi out of his predicament. Whether she pitied the beautiful jade chess set or her beloved concubine, Li Chun dropped the matter. He waved at Chen Hongzhi in disgust, repeatedly barking, “Go, go, go, don’t annoy me anymore.”

Chen Hongzhi, feeling as if granted amnesty, bowed and scrambled away.

“Come back, come back! Who said you could leave, you dog!”

Chen Hongzhi had only taken a few steps before Li Chun called him back. The Emperor’s moods had grown increasingly capricious; Chen Hongzhi had no idea what new trouble awaited him and could only resign himself to fate. Li Chun picked up a chess piece and flung it at him; it missed, but Chen Hongzhi was so frightened that he prostrated himself, trembling all over.

He glanced at Lady Mao, silently begging for help. Lady Mao pursed her lips, indicating she could do nothing. In the Tang palace, on festivals, lowly eunuchs could present gifts to the noble concubines as a gesture of filial respect; the nobles would reward them in return, demonstrating benevolence. In the past, eunuchs provided many gifts but received little in return. Since the later years of Emperor Dezong, nobles’ rewards had increased, while the giving of gifts became mere formality.

But Chen Hongzhi and Lady Mao were exceptions; every holiday, Chen Hongzhi bestowed lavish gifts upon her, and Lady Mao would often speak well of him before Li Chun—though only mildly. When the Emperor was truly angry, she dared not intervene.

“Chen Hongzhi, tell me, what kind of servants are you? Those two you found for alchemy—what sort of people are they? They speak grandly, swaying their heads, but after more than two months in the palace, they haven’t produced a single batch of elixir! All talk and no action won’t do. I want immortal pills, not their nonsense!”

Li Chun grew angrier as he spoke, finally lifting the chess bowl as if to hurl it entirely. Chen Hongzhi’s face turned ashen, his body curled up in terror.

Lady Mao left her seat, kneeling with a look of panic. Li Chun glanced at her, his heart softening. After all, Lady Mao was still a child; to punish her openly would frighten her.

“Hmph, to waste good chess pieces on you is a pity.”

Chen Hongzhi sweated profusely, not daring to make a sound.

“Before you leave, listen well: go and dismiss those two. If by year’s end I still don’t see the elixir I want, Chen Hongzhi, you, you, you…”

“I’ll shave my head, put on women’s clothes, and scrub laundry in the washing house until I die!”

“Ah, so now you can interrupt me! Get out, just seeing you annoys me.”

Chen Hongzhi dared not rise, crawling out backward, hands and feet moving in perfect coordination.

---

“Don’t crawl, I told you to roll! Roll, roll, roll!”

Li Chun stood up, shouting thunderously. Chen Hongzhi’s limbs felt numb, his head dizzy; he twisted left and right, forgetting how to roll, spinning aimlessly on the floor.

“Hahaha, that dog servant…” Li Xi’s mood brightened considerably.

Amid Li Xi’s hearty laughter, Chen Hongzhi finally found his rhythm, rolling across the floor—first sideways, then tumbling over—until he rolled out of the Hall of Immortal Residence. A cry of alarm followed as he fell from the palace terrace. The young eunuchs chasing after his hat and boots shouted, “Eunuch Chen fell into the water vat!”

A commotion ensued.

Li Chun helped Lady Mao to her feet, but seeing her still frowning, he dropped his hand and stepped back, putting a yard between them, then flicked a chess piece straight at her brow. The jade piece bounced away as Lady Mao burst into tears.

“No crying!” Li Chun, though he felt pity, deliberately kept a stern face. “Cry and I’ll exile you to the Cold Palace.”

Lady Mao dared not cry, but her lips pouted; she turned away from Li Chun.

“Still daring to put on airs. Do you know what your mistake was today?”

“I made no mistake.”

“Hmph, still stubborn. Chen Hongzhi has given you many benefits; you pleaded for him. Don’t think I didn’t see your signals—what nerve you have!”

Lady Mao’s eyes rolled, her brows arched with a smile. “The Emperor is jealous, how shameless!”

Li Chun snapped, “Don’t joke. I have decreed that palace women shall not fraternize with officials, inside or outside. You ignore this. Don’t rely on my favor to do as you please. Just for befriending eunuchs, I could depose you.”

“Ah, please calm your anger, Your Majesty. I know my mistake, I won’t dare do it again.” Lady Mao knelt, begging forgiveness.

“Hmph, truly willing to change?”

“Yes, I know my mistake, I will change,” Lady Mao said pitifully.

“Then I’ll pardon you this time. Get up.”

Lady Mao rose, timid and respectful. Li Chun, unable to resist, began to tease her. “Alright, I was only speaking casually. Did you really believe it? How odd. Where’s my fearless Lady Mao from before, hmm?”

He lifted her chin with two fingers, asking, “And where’s my Lan’er, whose singing outshines the oriole?”

Lady Mao, amused by his teasing, pressed her face to his chest, whispering, “Your Majesty has subdued the fierce bandits of the northwest, defeated Wu Yuanji utterly, and the restoration is at hand. Naturally you feel elated, and I share your joy. But watching you humiliate Chen Hongzhi just now frightened me.”

Li Chun dismissed her concern, “It’s nothing—just a household servant.”

Lady Mao replied, “Though a servant, he’s now an official of the Great Tang. I’ve heard that after years in office, even servants become somewhat proud. The Emperor humiliating his subjects so…”

Li Chun’s face darkened; he pushed Lady Mao away, angrily saying, “Are you speaking for him?”

Lady Mao dropped to her knees, terrified. “I misspoke, I deserve death, I know nothing and only babbled. Spare me, Your Majesty!”

“Alright, get up.” Li Chun helped her up, pinching her nose sharply. “If you dare speak for others, you must be brave enough to hear me scold you. What is this? Taking money but not doing your duty—shall you be struck by lightning?”

“Ah?” Lady Mao cried, “Will I really be struck by lightning?”

Li Chun laughed heartily. Lady Mao’s innocent look was most endearing. The problem of palace women befriending eunuchs was a longstanding affliction, unsolved for two centuries; could it be fixed with two imperial edicts? That would be a joke. Lady Mao, being favored, naturally attracted many flatterers; he could overlook her minor transgressions as long as she didn’t go too far.

“My Lady Mao is clever; the Thunder God will forgive her.”

Having reassured her, Lady Mao felt at ease. As long as she didn’t disrupt the government, the Emperor would not care how many gifts she received.

Lady Mao nestled against Li Chun’s broad chest, murmuring, “I may be bold, but I’m not foolish. When Your Majesty is troubled, I feel it too. How could I dare truly anger you and invite your reprimand? I’m not like Chen Hongzhi, who is a servant. I am your wife; to be scolded by my husband is unbearable.”

---

As she spoke, Lady Mao melted into a pool of warm water, almost dissolving in Li Xi’s arms.

Li Xi stroked her delicate back, sighing, “The reason I favor you isn’t that you understand my heart—there are others who do. But only you dare to voice my thoughts, share my burdens, and help relieve my worries. People say being Emperor is easy, but it is in fact difficult.”

Lady Mao, nestled in his embrace, replied, “To be the sovereign of a restored dynasty is even harder.”

Li Chun’s eyes grew moist at her words. He pushed Lady Mao away, gripping her slender shoulders, and said:

“Come, let’s not stay cooped up inside. Let’s go to the Left Guard and ride horses. Tu Tu Chengcui tried to fool me, claiming the Uighur envoy gifted him only one fine horse, but I know the envoy gave him seven. That old servant—I’ll catch him red-handed and teach him a lesson. Ha ha.”

Lady Mao, however, did not move; her cheeks flushed crimson. She murmured, “If you want to ride, ride here in the room. I don’t wish to go out.”

Li Chun gazed at Lady Mao’s longing eyes, torn between pity and uncertainty. After a while, he said, “Well, it’s been long since I worshipped at the Palace of Three Purities. Let’s go together.”

The imperial family of the Li Tang honored Daoism. The Li emperors claimed descent from the Three Purities, so worshipping there was akin to honoring their ancestors. The Palace of Three Purities, located in the Daming Palace, was the royal temple and held supreme status. For a concubine to accompany the Emperor there was a tremendous honor.

Even for Lady Mao, so favored, it was her first time receiving such privilege. How could she not rejoice? Though inwardly she longed for Li Chun to remain with her in the hall, she now showed great excitement, clapping her hands, dancing, her eyes moist with emotion.

Yet she was not entirely happy. The once vigorous Emperor had grown listless over the past months. If a man cannot assert himself in bed, how can he display authority outside? The Emperor is a man like any other.

As she led the Emperor, laughing, toward the hall’s exit, Lady Mao thought, “Perhaps I should remind Chen Hongzhi to prepare not only immortality pills but also virility pills for the Emperor. What is the use of living forever if a man cannot conquer the woman he loves?”

Lady Mao gazed quietly at her beloved Li Chun. Outwardly, he remained imposing, but inwardly, he was hollow. She wished he could regain his vigor, conquering both the world and her.

…

After resolving the matter in Chongren Ward, Li Xi and his companions went to the Cui residence in Daye Ward. News of the incident at the Temple of Profound Truth soon reached the Cui household. Unfortunately, Master Cui was still at court, Lady Cui was out visiting, and the grandmother, old and infirm, was not told the truth. By the time Lady Cui heard and rushed home to consult with the household advisors, Li Xi, Liu Motong, and Li Laosan had already returned, laughing and joking with Cui Yudong.

Their laughter was meant to comfort Cui Yudong’s parents. Poor Cui Yudong, after the ordeal, was both frightened and ashamed, sitting by the roadside canal crying for a long time. Li Laosan busied himself explaining to curious passersby that he was heartbroken, prompting scornful looks—what propriety was there in a nobleman crying over romance, neglecting his duty to the nation?

Several elderly men carrying bamboo baskets headed for the eastern market; seeing this scene, they stopped, shaking their heads, lamenting the decline from earlier times. They reminisced about the glorious reign of Emperor Xuanzong, when the nation was renowned, surrounded by powerful enemies—Turks and Abusi to the north, Khitans and Xi to the northeast, Tibet to the west, Nanzhao to the southwest. Young men enlisted eagerly, fighting to expand the empire and spread its prestige. But now, eunuchs dominated, nobles were ignorant, regional lords arrogant, vultures circling; the Tang realm was in peril…

Before the elders could finish, the crowd hurried away, fearful of spies overhearing and causing trouble. The white-bearded elders cursed loudly, “Afraid to speak or hear the truth—what hope is there for this nation?”

Li Laosan came to persuade them, “Honored elders, if you don’t hurry, the market will close.”

One white-bearded elder replied angrily, “Don’t rush us—we’re here for the leftover vegetables.”

He glared at Li Laosan and muttered as he left.

‘Leftover vegetables’ meant produce sold at a discount before market closure, brought in by itinerant vendors from outside the city. The quality was poor, but the price much lower.

Shi Xiong said to Li Laosan, “Don’t bother with them. They’re all veteran soldiers from the Divine Strategy Army, living off rations, so they can afford to talk. Those without rations rarely live so long. The decline from past glory is their doing; without their support, those rogue officials wouldn’t be so bold.”

Liu Motong, comforting Cui Yudong, retorted, “Don’t speak nonsense, Second Brother. In their youth, the Divine Strategy Army was the backbone of our Tang, not controlled by eunuchs.”

Hearing this, Liu Motong grew inexplicably angry and kicked Cui Yudong, shouting, “Enough now—stop sniveling like a woman!”

And so, amid laughter, they returned to the Cui residence.

Facing Lady Cui, Cui Yudong stammered, unable to say a word. In the end, Liu Motong explained everything clearly and truthfully. Lady Cui listened, supporting her forehead, silent for a while before letting out a bitter laugh, saying, “You truly are Yudong’s good brothers—you’ve done everything, right or wrong. Well done. My family will be famous from now on.”

The four fell silent. Lady Cui sighed deeply and said to her son, “Enough, rise, Consort. Must I beg you myself?”