TCPM 24

 

Chapter 24

Xu Jianyou woke up. Or perhaps it should be said, Xu Qingchu woke up. When she opened her eyes, she was staring at the ceiling of the rented apartment outside her university. This dream had been exceptionally long and heavy, containing the entire life and death of Xu Qingchu from her previous existence. Through this dream, the two fragments of her soul completely fused into one—not in the sense of one replacing the other, but rather, as previously stated, because they had always been the exact same person.

She turned her head sideways to look at Wei Zai on the other side of the room. Wei Zai had no need for sleep and was still playing on her iPad deep into the night; because of the screen's glow, she sat a good distance away. She gazed greedily at Wei Zai's profile. It had been so very long since she had last seen Wei Zai, and so very long since she had witnessed such a relaxed, carefree Wei Zai. She missed her so, so much...

She stared until her eyes grew sore and watery. Seemingly sensing the gaze, Wei Zai raised her head, and their lines of sight collided.

Wei Zai looked perplexed: "Why are you staring at me instead of sleeping? In the dead of night like this, it's rather terrifying."

"It's nothing." Xu Jianyou turned her head back, closing her eyes to relieve the soreness, while thinking to herself that as Xu Qingchu, she seemingly had no idea what she ought to say to Wei Zai, feeling somewhat too timid to speak with her.

Yet Wei Zai grew inspired, finding herself utterly bored alone at night as she leaned closer and asked, "Did you have a nightmare? Come on, tell me about it?"

How could Xu Jianyou possibly tell her what she had dreamed of? Opening her eyes with a helpless expression, she fobbed her off: "I don't remember. I just suddenly woke up."

"Then are you still going to sleep?" Wei Zai's eyes shone brightly.

Xu Jianyou felt a prickle of goosebumps beneath that intense gaze: "What is it?"

"Get up and keep me company while I have some fun." Who knew where Wei Zai had picked up such strange slang this time.

"Get lost!" Xu Jianyou pulled the blanket up to wrap herself entirely inside it. Expecting nothing to begin with, Wei Zai merely giggled and retreated to continue playing on her iPad, having recently grown obsessed with a new game.

Hiding beneath the covers, hearing silence settle once more, Xu Jianyou cautiously poked a pair of eyes out from the blanket to look at Wei Zai again. The soft glow of the tablet screen reflected across Wei Zai's face, making her look both earnest and adorable.

How wonderful it was.

In the eleventh year of Chenghui, Wei Zai fell ill. It began simply as dizziness, which everyone initially attributed to sheer exhaustion, prompting them to voluntarily shoulder responsibilities to give her more time to rest. This marked the eleventh year since Wei Zai’s ascension to the throne; over these years, state affairs had gradually been smoothed out, and vacancies across various government offices had been filled with capable personnel. The massive central apparatus was clumsily chugging along, transitioning from stumbling toddlerhood to smooth operation and finally to its current flourishing vigor—they had poured six full years into achieving all of this. Starting from the third year of Chenghui, Meng Shitong and the Xu family's trade caravans had begun cautiously exploring westward toward the Western Regions, pinning their hopes on the rise of commerce to generate additional tax revenues capable of filling an impoverished, empty state treasury. Over those same six years, Meng Shitong had cleared open the Hexi Corridor, reconnecting the severed trade routes of the northwest. Wealth poured into the central government and cascaded outward into every remote corner of the nation, acting like life-giving rain upon a drought-parched earth as everything slowly revived.

By the eleventh year of Chenghui, Wei Zai was thirty-seven years old. She was no longer a flustered young woman stumbling over crises, nor was she driven to sleeplessness by crushing pressures. She had grown composed, steady, calm, and wise, commanding trust in every gesture—she was the sovereign upon whom everyone depended. Yet she fell ill. It started with dizziness, followed by headaches that steadily increased in frequency and deepened in intensity. She began to grow intolerant of wind and cold; by the thirteenth year of Chenghui, she could no longer review memorials at all, as any serious concentration or focus triggered splitting, agonizing pain in her head.

"I don't want to look at them anymore..." Wei Zai tossed the memorial in her hand aside, closing her eyes to massage her temples. She had intended to seize a moment of clear-headedness to review critical matters, but reading merely a few lines left her brain buzzing with a dull, throbbing ache.

Twelve-year-old Wei Zhibai stood in waiting nearby, speaking with cautious care: "Teacher said she will be arriving shortly..."

"On occasions like this, refer to her as Chancellor Xu." Wei Zai raised her eyes to shoot her a glance.

Wei Zhibai obediently corrected herself: "Chancellor Xu said these are all selected memorials that genuinely require Your Majesty's personal review, and she will come to collect them shortly."

Sighing, Wei Zai picked up the memorial she had just discarded and thrust it into Wei Zhibai's hands: "You read, and I will listen."

Opening the document, Wei Zhibai began reciting it from the beginning, as she was already learning the arts of governance. Wei Zai had ceased attending court audiences for some time, but as this could not serve as a permanent solution, she and Xu Qingchu were considering having Zhibai oversee the state from behind a screen and represent her at morning assemblies.

Pacing leisurely about the hall, pausing to admire a blossom here or tend to a leaf of grass there, Wei Zai drifted about while Wei Zhibai trotted closely at her heels, dedicatedly reading aloud the memorials in a clear, bright child's voice that echoed through the chamber.

When the reading finished, Wei Zhibai’s voice fell silent. Standing quietly in place for a brief moment of reflection, Wei Zai turned her head and instructed her: "Go fetch the vermilion brush from the desk. I shall speak, and you shall write."

"Me? Me?" Wei Zhibai blinked in surprise.

"Indeed, off you go." Wei Zai smiled at her encouragingly.

Obediently taking up the brush, Wei Zhibai transcribed Wei Zai's exact words word for word. Though she was only twelve and her handwriting remained somewhat clumsy, it possessed an unmistakable, childish innocence.

One reading, one listening, one speaking, and one writing—they raced through the remainder of the official documents. Putting down the brush, Wei Zhibai exhaled a long sigh of relief.

Standing at a distance, Wei Zai observed her quietly. When she had first adopted Wei Zhibai, the child was a mere six or seven years old—a fragile little bundle so delicate she seemed capable of breaking at any moment, leaving Wei Zai terrified to even touch her until Xu Qingchu forcefully shoved the soft, fragrant child into her arms. And now, six years had already slipped by.

Noticing herself scrutinized, Wei Zhibai grew somewhat self-conscious, casting a quick look down to check if her robes were out of order.

"A-Bai."

"This child is here."

Addressing her in a gentle, soft-spoken tone, Wei Zai asked: "Does Teacher Xu treat you well?"

Ever trusting of Xu Qingchu and Wei Zai, viewing them with the instinctive admiration, reverence, and attachment every child holds toward the towering figures shielding them from harm, Wei Zhibai answered without a moment's hesitation: "Well."

Gazing at her deeply, as though looking past her toward some distant horizon, Wei Zai spoke after a long pause: "Then promise me, never fail her."

Though failing to fully grasp the weight of her words, Wei Zhibai obediently nodded.

Moments later, Xu Qingchu arrived, still clad in her purple official robes, evidently having come straight from the Council of State.

"How are you feeling today? Are you in pain?" she asked with immediate concern.

Smiling and shaking her head, Wei Zai gestured that she was entirely well.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Xu Qingchu turned her attention to the memorials. Her eyes instantly caught Wei Zhibai's immature handwriting, prompting her to lift her head with a worried expression.

Receiving her unspoken anxiety, Wei Zai reassured her: "I'm truly fine, just getting A-Bai accustomed to this earlier."

Glancing first at Wei Zai and then at Wei Zhibai, Xu Qingchu suppressed her internal worries and resumed reviewing the paperwork. Pausing at a particular document, she turned back to consult Wei Zai's opinion. Following a brief discussion, they swiftly reached a consensus, and Xu Qingchu picked up the vermilion brush to append a concluding sentence directly behind Zhibai's text, perfectly mimicking Wei Zai's handwriting.

Stepping forward and leaning lazily over the other side of the desk with keen interest as she watched Xu Qingchu handle the vermilion approvals on her behalf, Wei Zai chuckled, "Wouldn't it be easier if you just approved everything yourself instead of bringing them to me?"

Casting a sideways glance at her, Xu Qingchu sighed helplessly: "I am not permitted to review memorials inside the Council of State in your stead."

"Come back and review them for me here, then." The corners of Wei Zai's eyes curved upward, clearly in high spirits.

"A-Zai..." Xu Qingchu prolonged her tone with a warning edge. In truth, ever since the eleventh year of Chenghui, Xu Qingchu had already been taking over a portion of Wei Zai's memorial reviews, imitating her handwriting to a degree capable of deceiving anyone, with not a single soul discovering the ruse. Over recent years, the share handled by Xu Qingchu expanded steadily while Wei Zai's share shrank. Yet not a single shred of this secret could ever be allowed to leak beyond the walls of the Yong'an Palace, for Xu Qingchu remained, at the end of the day, merely a minister.

"Very well, very well," Wei Zai surrendered immediately, "Are you finished?"

"Almost."

"Then come hug me." Opening her arms wide, Xu Qingchu bypassed the desk and pulled her into a solid, tight embrace.

A sudden, loud clatter startled them both into turning around. Wei Zhibai stood crimson-faced with embarrassment; attempting to retreat quietly, she had accidentally knocked over a bronze lamp. Scrambling to right the lamp, she bowed low and stammered, "Mother, Teacher, this child takes her leave," before scurrying out in a panicked rush.

Wei Zai burst into hearty laughter.

A smile playing on her lips, Xu Qingchu pressed her forehead against Wei Zai's before a trace of anxiety resurfaced in her expression: "Are you truly not in pain?"

"Bearable today." Pressing a kiss to her cheek, Wei Zai soothed her.

Xu Qingchu sighed.

"I am fine, you may rest easy."

Yet things did not improve. Wei Zai's episodes grew increasingly frequent, leaving her body progressively weaker. Insomnia claimed her once more, this time driven by raw physical agony. She endured it in silence, desperately suppressing any sound of groaning so as not to wake Xu Qingchu, unable to push herself through state duties any longer as the entire burden of governance tumbled onto Xu Qingchu's shoulders. Outwardly serving as the Left Chancellor while internally arbitrating decisions for Wei Zai, educating Wei Zhibai, and monitoring Wei Zai's health simultaneously, she was stretched to her absolute limit. Wei Zai hated the thought of robbing her of her nighttime rest as well. Yet sharing the same bed made it impossible for Xu Qingchu to remain oblivious.

"Are you in pain? Shall I summon the imperial physicians?" Rolling over to wrap her arms around Wei Zai, Xu Qingchu reached a hand inside her collar to brush against a fine sheen of cold sweat.

"No..." Wei Zai stopped her, "Just hold me."

Shifting positions so that Wei Zai could tuck herself more comfortably into her embrace, Xu Qingchu lowered her head to rain gentle kisses across her sweat-dampened cheeks and temples, her heart twisting like a wrung-out rag.

Reaching out to stroke her face, Wei Zai murmured comfortingly, "It's nothing, truly nothing..."

Burying her face against Wei Zai's robes, Xu Qingchu hid her expression so no one could witness the devastation written across it.

In the fifteenth year of Chenghui, Wei Zai fell gravely ill, drifting in and out of consciousness upon her bed, enjoying very few moments of alertness, while Xu Qingchu kept vigil by her side day after day.

"Chancellor Xu..." The Grand Eunuch stepped up to her side, leaning in to whisper, "Word has come from the Council of State that certain administrative matters require your immediate decision..."

Gritting her teeth and suppressing her rising fury, Xu Qingchu hissed, "Is there anything they cannot handle themselves without requiring my presence?"

Stealing a cautious glance toward the sleeping Wei Zai on the couch, the eunuch hesitated, "I believe they simply wish to ascertain the Emperor's condition..."

"Send for the Crown Prince instead; she knows what can be said and what can be done. I care not what decisions they arrive at, I object to nothing." This marked perhaps the sole instance where emotion completely overrode Xu Qingchu's rational judgment.

Sensing she stood on the precipice of an outburst, the eunuch swallowed his words and bowed out in retreat.

"You ought to have gone..."

Hearing Wei Zai's weak voice, Xu Qingchu turned to her with a gasp of joy: "You're awake! Eunuch! Summon the imperial physicians..."

"There's no need, no need... I merely wish to speak with you." Wei Zai fought to wrap her fingers around her hand.

Xu Qingchu gripped her back; this hand no longer retained its strength or agility, as illness had reduced it to withered skin and bone. Pressing Wei Zai's hand against her cheek, Xu Qingchu nearly broke into tears.

With a soft, faint chuckle, Wei Zai remarked, "Is this the very first time you've neglected state affairs on my account?"

"Perhaps."

"Strictly speaking, I ought to urge you to go—A-Bai is only fourteen and incapable of managing these things alone. But speaking from the selfishness of my own heart, I find myself somewhat glad..."

"A-Zai..." Xu Qingchu choked back a sob.

"A-You... I suppose I am finally nearing my release..."

"No, I beg of you, please don't..." Warm tears slipped down to dampen Wei Zai's hand, prompting Wei Zai to laboriously flip her palm to wipe them away.

Sighing softly, she whispered, "A-You... you know very well that my wishes have never once been granted..."

The forty-odd years of the past flickered vividly before her eyes: the anxious, trembling years of her youth; the eight years of patient, hidden forbearance; the agonizing struggles of her early reign; the dozen-plus years of monarchs and subjects sharing a single heart to advance side by side; and finally, these recent years entangled with endless sickness upon her sickbed... At every single crossroads, she had never truly been given a choice.

Wanting to sit up, Xu Qingchu hastily propped pillows behind her back so she could lean against the headboard, taking her seat on the edge of the couch to hold her hand face-to-face so Wei Zai could clearly see her.

"Xu Qingchu," calling out her full name with rare solemnity, Wei Zai conveyed a weight that sent a sharp pang through Xu Qingchu's heart as she solemnly declared, "My final edict has already been drafted and placed within the secret compartment beneath the bed; you know how to open it. The funeral rites need not be extravagant, and the burial objects must be strictly streamlined... I entrust all my affairs after death entirely to your hands, and I rest easy knowing you will handle them."

"Your Majesty..." Xu Qingchu hurt so intensely she could scarcely form words.

Looking directly into her eyes, Wei Zai pronounced each word with absolute clarity: "Should A-Bai prove incompetent, you possess full authority to depose and enthrone as you see fit."

Every single sentence struck like a heavy hammer, shattering Xu Qingchu into pieces. Looking pleadingly at Wei Zai, she prayed that all of this was merely a jest, yet every single syllable Wei Zai uttered remained unshakeably resolute.

"The oath of remaining eternal monarch and subjects for this lifetime—I have fulfilled it, and I have failed neither our youthful alliance nor my duties through the entirety of my days. Yet, Xu Qingchu, should there be an afterlife, let us never serve as monarch and subject again..."

She shattered completely.

On the eighth day of the eleventh month in the fifteenth year of Chenghui, Emperor Chenghui, Wei Zai, passed away within the Yong'an Palace at the age of forty-one.

--