Chapter 2

Translator: · Beta:

Once, someone with nothing better to do took a comprehensive survey of the current dynasty, and summed up the imperial court’s three great cancers.

w.a.n.g Qin leads in corruption; the treasury is never full.

Yun Tang favours a few, forming cabals; leading to corruption in our politics.

Prince Huai plays with power, and serves as the head of a hundred poisons — thus causing instability to the throne.

When they talk about the most venomous of vipers, the wicked one who plays with power, the biggest cancer of them all, they’re talking about me: this insignificant prince, Prince Huai, Chengjun1.

I can only say that I feel rather hapless in the face of these theories.

In truth, I have been ever dutiful, ever devoted, devoid of intention to monopolise power, and possess even less of a heart to covet the throne. In the entire imperial court, I dare say there is no loyal subject more loyal than I.

But, most tragically, in all the realm, the matter of my being a loyal subject is something that not many would believe.

However, I’ve always been one for arguments from sense. Let me speak then, sensibly: if one is to ask why bystanders hold this theory to be true, the biggest fault lies with my dad.

When I was little my mother often said to me, your dad is the biggest fool I have ever seen in all of my life. And then she would pat my head and say, don’t you ever become like him when you grow up.

In the eyes of outsiders, my dad and the word ‘fool’ could never be written on the same page. At fifteen he went to war, at seventeen he was made commander-in-chief. Half his days were spent on horseback; one could count the battles he lost on one hand.

But in the eyes of my mother, and in mine after I matured, my dad was indeed quite the idiot.

He was emperor Tongguang’s youngest brother. Often, eyes overflowing with tears, he’d recall how as a young boy, emperor Tongguang looked after him, cared for him, took his hand and taught him to read and write, covered him with a blanket while he slept, put a coat on him when it was cold … so he was willing to sacrifice his very life in service to repay his brother’s kindness.

But Emperor Tongguang had a weak const.i.tution and died young, so my dad wasn’t able to repay him for long. My dad, after weeping bitter tears and being inconsolable in his grief, decided to transfer his intention to repay his brother onto Emperor Tongguang’s son — onto the current emperor’s father, Emperor Yingchang.

As soon as any change was detected at the frontier’s gates, he would immediately take the initiative and volunteer to go. During discussions in court a.s.sembly, anytime he felt he could help our government and the country at large, he inevitably broke into torrential speeches, at times both fervent and impa.s.sioned. Loyal advice is often grating on the ears; he thought he did these things out of loyalty, but to the emperor, this was the very definition of a subject having contributions so great he could belittle his ruler; this was what one called having power in one’s grasp and thus becoming arrogant.

My mother tried to talk to him before, but he never listened. He thought a woman’s views worthless — he thought, how could his blood-related nephew emperor not feel his wholehearted devotion, clear to heaven and earth, sun and moon?

My mother could do nothing but look on as he remained a fool to the end.

After my dad pa.s.sed away, his military power was immediately freed up and equally divided by some top figures within the government. I also merely inherited his t.i.tle, and did not take on any position in any major ministry. Aside from myself, his majesty has a number of cousins of his father’s generation, each with their own t.i.tles of prince and any of which has more authority than our Prince Huai estate. But for some reason those standing on the outside always believe we hold some secret influence in our grasp — enough to overturn the government.

When the former emperor had just pa.s.sed away, and the empress said those nauseating words to me, I had no choice but to give her some empty promises. But little could I have known that on that very night, my elder cousins had a little meeting with some major players of the imperial court, and even I was brought along. Grand Tutor Yun Tang — then still Grand Chancellor — said, “A nation cannot one day be without a leader, but since his majesty pa.s.sed away, the imperial throne has already been unoccupied for two days. The heir-apparent Qizhe is still underage. Princes, lords of the imperial court, what do you think?”

As my turn to speak came around, I gave them a couple of honest truths. “For an heir-apparent to succeed the throne is a matter of course. Moreover, excuse my next words for their impudence, but I’ve watched his highness Qizhe grow up from infancy. He has always been clever and quick-witted, generous, benevolent. He may be young now, but surely he’ll be an enlightened ruler when he’s grown.” With these truths I lightly flattered the future emperor — I thought it may prove beneficial in the future.

The next day, Qizhe succeeded, and became the emperor. On that very night, the empress summoned me to the palace. In the imperial study, she sent away every last attendant, and holding his majesty’s hand she said, “Your majesty, you’re the emperor now, and you must not forget the work your uncle Prince Huai has done. From now on, surely he’ll be there to support you in matters of state.”

Her gaze was full of meaning. I wanted to explain myself, tell her she must have misunderstood something, but I couldn’t.

People are like that; the more you want to show them that you haven’t, the more they feel that you must have.

The secret influence of the Prince Huai estate grew stronger day by day in everyone’s — especially the empress’s — imagination.

So I had the honour of being this government’s most powerful subject, the great crafty prince in the hearts of everyone in the realm. That is, until today.

Today is the second day of the fourth month.2

The month is an even number, the day is also an even number; it’s an auspicious day, suitable for the addition of a roof beam, marriage, baths, a journey’s beginning.

I’m sitting in the sitting room for receiving ordinary guests.

Aside from myself there are two guests in the room; one is Yun Tang’s son, Yun Yu, and the other I’ve been told is a low-ranking imperial censor freshly promoted into the Censorate.

Yun Tang, being a cancer only slightly smaller than I of the three great cancers of our government, came by his reputation honestly. One needs only to look as far as his son Yun Yu, not even twenty-three and already holding a number of positions in our government, Censor-in-chief being one of them. I estimate this brand new censor likely is a few years older than Yun Yu, and yet can only show great deference to him, allowing Yun Yu to drag him to pay me a visit.

Yun Yu says to me with much gravitas, “Censor He is an extremely rare talent, but he’s still young and inexperienced, I hope you will look after him in the future, Prine Huai.”

Then he turns to minor censor He, who’s sitting there behaving as properly as a coffin lid, and says, “You must know about Prince Huai. Not only is he the emperor’s uncle, he’s even considered the closest uncle to his majesty out of them all.”

Having become numb to these words over the years, I return a cordial smile to the minor imperial censor.

It’s a most ordinary visit. Or it should be.

Right up until my consort, Princess Huai, barges in.

Another nephew of mine, the heir of Prince Shou, Qili, once said to me: uncle, you really are wonderful in every way, save only that no matter when and no matter what happens, you always believe that all the justifications in the world are on your side. Everything is someone else’s fault, you are so dreadfully wronged. This is a most exasperating shortcoming of yours.

I’ve always thought him incorrect. I am very much wronged. I examine myself quite often; whenever anything happens, I always try to find fault with myself first. It’s only because I usually can’t find any that I go looking for it in someone else.

For example, right now I’m looking at Princess Huai and examining myself. Seeing if I really did do something to make her take such a drastically shocking action.

After a moment’s examination I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve done nothing wrong.

In the years since Princess Huai married into the Prince Huai estate, I’ve respected her, provided for her. What she wanted in gold I’d never give her in silver; if she wanted to wear damask, I would never make her wear charmeuse.

First I have never said a single harsh word to her, second I’ve never taken a concubine.

And yet, why —

With her back straight as a ramrod and her head held high, Princess Huai puts her shoulders back and says, “Your highness, I’m pregnant! Naturally, it’s not yours!”

All goes quiet in the room.

Censor He’s face has gone ashen from shock. Yun Yu bursts into a laugh.

Princess Huai turns and points to a figure by the side door leading to an inner room, a figure that has been tied up like a rice dumpling. “Your highness, I’m not afraid to tell you that the child in my belly is mine and his!”

Looking miserable, Censor He rises, trembling, and makes to go. Yun Yu holds him in place by the sleeve and makes him sit down again. Yun Yu himself continues to watch with a smile.

With tears streaming down her face, Princess Huai stares at me and says sternly, “Today I’ve indeed done such a thing! I had to say it in public! Your highness, what are you going to do with me?!” Her gaze is as sharp as a sabre. “I must tell you that what pushed me to such plight was entirely you! It’s you who pushed me step by step to this point! I’d rather die than to keep on tolerating it! Even if I die I must see to it that you have not a smidgen of respect left!”

Her eyes are scarlet red, filled with so much resentment it seems she wishes to pare down my bones and devour my flesh. “Your highness, why aren’t you saying anything right now? Why don’t you dare reprimand me, why can’t you call someone to drag me off?!! That’s because you don’t have the gall! Because you owe me!!”

I hear a creak. It appears that Yun Yu has taken a sip of his tea, and is continuing to spectate while nursing his tea, looking to be in rather high spirits.

Princess Huai takes a step forward and stares at me ferociously. “Because — you’re afraid that everyone will know that Prince Huai, Chengjun, is impotent in the ways of the bedroom and wears a cut-sleeve!”

The most humiliating affair of all time happens today in my estate.

With a clack, a tea cup touches the table. Yun Yu’s voice sounds, “Princess Huai, as an outsider, allow me to say something fair. To say he’s 'impotent in the ways of the bedroom’ would be filing a false charge on your account. Prince Huai has gone to the brothel with us many times. Though he does like men, others and I as well as those hired men and women could all bear witness that Prince Huai is quite accomplished in the ways of the bedroom. There’s certainly no talk of him being impotent at all.”

懷王 ／ Prince Huai is his t.i.tle, Jing Weiyi is his name, Chengjun is his courtesy name. ↩︎

4th lunar month, of course. ↩︎