TCPM 26

 

Chapter 26

How could she not miss Wei Zai? Every single day without Wei Zai was excruciatingly difficult to bear, leaving her with no choice but to numb herself with affairs of state, often staring at official documents until dawn. She had returned to her own estate—a residence located very close to the imperial city—yet she had rarely ever lived in it, spending most of her time in the Yong'an Palace. As a result, upon returning here, she even found herself somewhat losing her way.

Standing within the courtyard during the sparse, desolate, and stern cold of winter, she stood in a daze, lost in thought.

"My lord?" the estate steward softly reminded her from beside her ear.

"Hmm?" She snapped back to reality, looking toward the steward.

"The bedchamber is this way."

Everyone up and down the household consisted of people she trusted, some of whom had served for many years, yet she felt completely like a stranger here.

Carrying a heavy heart, the steward accompanied her the whole way. Entering the bedchamber and surveying her surroundings, she sat before the dressing table as the steward considerately stepped forward to let down her hair. Silver threads were more numerous in her hair than before, causing an ache in the steward's heart as they gently advised, "My lord, please take care of yourself and moderate your grief."

Xu Qingchu looked at her own reflection in the bronze mirror. The person before her seemed already hollowed out by termites, empty within and reduced to nothing more than an outer shell, decaying and withering at a blistering pace.

This would not do; she could not collapse yet. The new emperor needed her, and the Xu family needed her too. Looking back into the bronze mirror, she saw the worried face of the steward still lingering there.

Composing herself, she asked the steward, "I am fine. Has anything happened these past two days?"

Relieved, the steward replied, "The eldest lady sent a letter saying she has scouted two promising young talents and intends to send them to study under your guidance... Coincidentally, both are maidens of the Xu clan—one precisely from the Zongshan Xu lineage and the other from Li County. The eldest lady mentioned this must be a bond ordained by heaven..."

"I trust the eldest sister's judgment. When will they arrive?" Xu Qingchu recalled that her eldest sister had also lost her teacher at around this very same age.

"They have already set out and should arrive around the latter third of the month."

"Understood. Go attend to your duties; I am going to rest for a while."

Lying down on the bed and closing her eyes, Xu Qingchu found herself entirely surrounded by visions of Wei Zai. A persistent, throbbing ache gripped her chest, so intense it left her gasping for breath. Unable to sleep, she sat back up, feeling as though the silent room carried a tangible weight pressing down heavily upon her. Unable to bear staying there a moment longer, she draped a robe over her shoulders, rose to her feet, and sat at the outer desk. Grinding ink and lifting a brush, she immersed herself in affairs of state, court structures, the new emperor's studies, and future governance policies, writing fluently from sunset until dawn.

"What do you think of transferring Qin Wenmin to serve as the Commander of the Palace Front? She is Ah Bai's martial arts mentor, which should give Ah Bai a greater sense of security..."

"While it is a good thing to have no worries regarding maternal relatives, she also needs to build her own foundation. The companions for her studies will take time to grow, and this year's special imperial examinations must be held on a grand scale... Right?"

"The Ministry of War reports that the barbarian tribes are growing restless, and we will need to allocate more grain and funds to Yongzhou this year... Ideally, we should see if we can negotiate border markets... Who would be suitable to handle this?"

"...The Quzhou corruption case has been suppressed for too long; it is time for a verdict... If it were you, you would certainly say that confiscating their property, exiling them, and recovering the gold and silver would suffice, but I still want their lives... I know, I promised to minimize bloodshed... so this time we shall only execute the ringleaders. In times like these, the winds and rains rock us precariously... Were you here, things would not have to be this way..."

She muttered to herself as she wrote, as though Wei Zai were still right beside her.

The morning light broke bright and clear. The darkness was chased away by the sunlight, leaving the room empty and deserted, with no second person in sight.

Through endless busyness, she seemed almost to forget, known only by the dwindling hours of sleep at night and the candlelight burning through to dawn.

"Master, please rest. I am grown now, and you do not need to work so hard..." Wei Zibai was already an adult. Over the years, while Xu Qingchu tutored her, she gradually transferred power into her hands. Watching her teacher age with terrifying speed, Wei Zibai was filled with panic.

Xu Qingchu smiled at her, smoothly changing the subject: "This subject is old, and old people sometimes speak unpleasant words; Your Majesty, please bear with it."

"No, never. Whatever Master says, this subject will always listen."

"Then... regarding the matter of the grand wedding... Your Majesty has made a choice, haven't you?" Xu Qingchu blinked playfully at her.

A blush crept over Wei Zibai's cheeks as she softly responded, "Yes. It is the youngest son of the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy; his skill in both literature and painting is peerless, yet he has no desire for an official career."

"Is he handsome?"

"Yes." Wei Zibai's face grew even redder, feeling as though she were about to burn up.

"Hahaha," Xu Qingchu burst into hearty laughter, rare in its carefree ease. "That is wonderful—sufficiently refined and prestigious, yet without a powerful family background, making him a good choice for Your Majesty."

"Yes. That is what I thought as well." Wei Zibai felt a surge of jubilation, much like a child who had correctly answered a test and received praise in her youth. Hesitating for a moment, she asked Xu Qingchu with some uncertainty, "Master... after... after my grand wedding, may I bring him to pay respects to you? Ah Niang cannot see it anymore... I view you as my mother as well, and I wish for you to witness my wedding ceremony—not merely as a court official, but in the status of an elder."

Xu Qingchu retained her smile, yet did not give an affirmative reply, saying only, "Your Majesty, there is no principle in this world of a sovereign bowing to a subject."

"I understand..." Wei Zibai lowered her head, masking her disappointment, though she had expected it.

Stepping out through the layers of palace gates, Xu Qingchu glanced back at the golden tiles of the imperial city gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight as she boarded her carriage.

Ah Zai, Ah Bai is now an adult.

In the fifth year of Chunning, Wei Zibai held her grand wedding. In the seventh year of Chunning, the eldest imperial princess was born.

Watching from afar, Xu Qingchu felt a deep sense of comfort, yet strictly adhered to her duties as a subject, maintaining a cool and distant reserve—as though everything Wei Zibai had witnessed in her youth had been nothing more than an illusory mirage.

In the eighth year of Chunning, Wei Zibai began to experience differences of opinion with Xu Qingchu, frequently holding conflicting views, though by and large, Wei Zibai tended to be the one who lost more often.

In the ninth year of Chunning, Wei Zibai had a fierce argument with Xu Qingchu over an administrative decree. Wei Zibai favored a more aggressive approach, while Xu Qingchu advocated for a conservative one. Right there in the front hall of the Yong'an Palace, she was rebuffed by Xu Qingchu time and time again, growing increasingly furious with every rejection, clashing head-on with Xu Qingchu to the point of a nearly total falling out for the very first time.

Unable to best Xu Qingchu in argument, a surge of anger finally overtook Wei Zibai, causing her to smash a teacup: "Xu Qingchu! I am the Emperor! Does what I say count for nothing?" This was also the first time she had ever addressed Xu Qingchu directly by her full name.

Xu Qingchu paused for a moment, then lifted the hem of her robes to kneel, raising her hands in a formal bow of apology: "Whatever Your Majesty says naturally counts; this subject has overstepped."

Realizing she had gone too far, Wei Zibai felt a sinking sensation in her chest, yet pride prevented her from admitting it as she awkwardly lowered her tone: "Master, I did not mean it that way..."

Ignoring her words, Xu Qingchu raised her eyes to look directly into Wei Zibai's gaze, solemnly asking, "Has Your Majesty already decided on this matter? Are you fully aware of the consequences and prepared to face the fallout?"

Looking at her earnestly, Wei Zibai replied, "Yes, I have thought it through completely."

"Good." Showing not a trace of anger, Xu Qingchu smiled instead. "Your Majesty has truly grown up. This subject humbly obeys the imperial decree."

Smoothing down her sleeves and straightening her robes, she respectfully bowed low before turning and retreating from the hall, leaving Wei Zibai caught in a whirlwind of complex emotions.

After that, Xu Qingchu ceased offering opinions on state affairs, letting everything proceed entirely according to Wei Zibai's wishes as she completely let go of the reins.

Months later, Xu Qingchu fell ill. Following the turn of the new year, her condition grew increasingly severe until she could no longer leave her bed. When the report reached the palace, a panicked Wei Zibai hurriedly traveled in disguise to her estate.

When Xu Qingchu awoke, Wei Zibai was sitting beside her couch, weeping aggrievedly.

"Your Majesty... you are an adult now... why are you still crying?"

"Are you going to abandon me too?" Hiding in the bedchamber, Wei Zibai cried with eyes reddened just like a young child. "Master, I was wrong. Please don't leave me behind."

"Your Majesty... people grow old and inevitably die," Xu Qingchu murmured, staring up at the canopy of the bed.

"You are truly merciless," Wei Zibai sniffled. "When I gave birth, it was a brush with death, yet you refused to even come take a look." In truth, the danger had not been nearly that extreme, but she had still harbored resentment—and because of this, she had locked horns with Xu Qingchu for a long time.

Looking back at her, a rare warmth filled Xu Qingchu's eyes. "Your Majesty, I could not. I had to stand guard in the Secretariat." If the worst had happened, someone needed to anchor the court and prevent upheavals. That night, she had stood outside the doors of the Secretariat all night long just to catch word from the palace messengers a fraction of a second sooner, but Wei Zibai would never know. All she had known was that she called out for her mother and her master, yet received no response at all, and the hands she reached out for were grasped by no one. It hurt so much.

"I know. Only she could ever make you truly live," Wei Zibai said dejectedly.

Xu Qingchu thought of Wei Zai. She fancied she could see Wei Zai waving to her from across the river, youthful, vibrant, and full of high-spirited confidence. With a soft chuckle, she remarked, "It has already been ten years, hasn't it?"

"Ah Bai," she addressed her by her given name for the first time in a long while—a name that had gone unspoken for a decade, nearly bringing fresh tears to Wei Zibai's eyes. Xu Qingchu stroked her forehead and softly said, "You did nothing wrong, and I was not angry with you. Quite the opposite; I am filled with pride, for you have truly grown up. This is wonderful, for now I can rest easy."

Having not felt such closeness in a very long time, Wei Zibai involuntarily pleaded, "No, I beg you, do not go..."

"I begged her the exact same way back then—ah, I begged every deity in heaven and earth, yet still could not keep her." Xu Qingchu gave a low laugh, raising a hand to cover her eyes. "I truly, truly miss her so much. Yet I feel as though I have no face left to see her."

"How could that be?" Stunned, Wei Zibai recalled the deep, profound love she had witnessed between them in her youth, always believing that no matter what her master did, her mother would ultimately indulge her.

With a bitter smile, Xu Qingchu said, "In this life, I have failed neither my country nor the world, nor have I failed the common people, yet how deeply I am indebted to her. Sovereign and subject for eternity, walking hand in hand... Ah, sovereign and subject for eternity... In the end, I spent a lifetime as her ruler and subject. I know she did not wish for it; it was I who personally locked her upon the throne."

Wei Zai had been a fiercely vibrant person, so genuinely radiant and full of life that she naturally drew deep affection; yet Xu Qingchu, driven by her own selfish motives, had pushed her step by step onto the high seat, forcing her to conceal her brilliance, shed her liveliness, and become a mere clay and stone statue. No one knew Wei Zibai's worth better than she did, yet she was also the very one who had destroyed Wei Zai. How could she ever be worthy of holding a place in Wei Zai's heart?

Swallowing the bitter taste in her throat, Xu Qingchu looked at Wei Zibai and spoke: "Ah Bai, this is the final lesson I shall teach you. An emperor stands high above as a lonely solitary figure; this means you must grow accustomed to loss, accustomed to solitude. It is cold at the highest peaks, and if you wish to be a good emperor, you must endure this chill."

Wei Zibai understood what she meant, but previously, she had always had Xu Qingchu standing behind her; from now on, she would have only herself. A piercing ache gripped her heart, prompting her to ask, "Was Ah Niang like this as well?"

"She was different from you. From the moment you came into our lives, you knew you were the heir to this throne, and we raised you into a qualified successor. You possess ambition. But she was different; she never once desired to be emperor, yet had no choice. Perhaps that was destined to make her leave us early..."

"Master, Ah Niang will not blame you."

"I know. I only blame myself," Xu Qingchu sighed. "Had I not wielded public power, I should have died alongside her... Now that you have grown, I have no further desires, and it is time I follow her. If she walks slowly, if she is still willing to wait for me a little longer, perhaps I can still catch up..."

In the tenth year of Chunning, the Left Chancellor Xu Qingchu passed away from illness at the age of fifty-five. The Emperor grieved profoundly, suspended court for three days, and bestowed the posthumous title "Wenzhong" (文忠: Cultured and Loyal).

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