Chapter 55: Righteousness Cloaked

On the bustling streets of Chang’an, countless beggars and the destitute, clad in thin garments and treading barefoot in the snow, gathered toward Anhua Gate and Jingguang Gate. Many others clustered around the West and East Markets as well. The reason for this congregation was the news released by the current Prime Minister: those who came to these locations and registered through official channels would receive a set of clothing and a bowl of hot porridge.

These efforts were overseen by Yan Zhenqing and Li Shizhi. Not only did they open their own storehouses to provide the unfortunate with a warm meal during winter, they also united forces to extort grain from other officials whose granaries were well-stocked—Li Linfu, in particular, was forced to contribute heavily. In recent days, Yan Zhenqing was so busy distributing porridge that countless official matters piled up on his desk, left untouched. But once this first snowfall was weathered and the hungry survived—at least spared from freezing to death on the street—the rest would depend on the imperial coffers.

Casting his gaze at the heavy, dreary clouds, Yan Zhenqing exhaled a long breath of steam, silently wishing for a milder winter. He wondered if similar scenes plagued other provinces—after one heavy snowfall, how many more innocent lives would be lost? Where did the root of these problems lie? Where did these refugees originate?

He sighed deeply and, burdened with care for the people, entered his residence to review memorials. When he came upon the report announcing the completion of the Princess Protector’s mansion, his beard and hair bristled in fury. He could find nowhere to vent his anger, and flung the writing desk aside, startling the attendant who immediately knelt in fear.

Yan Zhenqing clenched his fists, picked up the inkstone that had fallen to the ground, and hastily drafted an impeachment memorial against the Princess. Mounting his horse, he galloped toward the imperial city, stopping first to inspect the state treasury. When he saw its emptiness, his rage only grew. Eyes blazing, he strode past the cold-sweating Zhou Tong like a storm, seeking out Gao Lishi. Upon learning that the Emperor was bathing in the hot springs at Huaqing Palace on Mount Li, Yan Zhenqing immediately bid an abrupt farewell to the puzzled Gao Lishi, spurred his horse, and dashed out through Jiaxing Gate.

That night, at Huaqing Palace, Li Longji and Yang Yuhuan bathed together.

Outside, the snow had just accumulated, but inside the hot spring steam billowed thick and white. Yang Yuhuan, in her early twenties, nestled against the Emperor, her peach-blossom cheeks glowing, her voluptuous figure half-concealed in the swirling mist.

Li Longji held the softness at his side tightly, confessing his affection to his beloved: “May we become a pair of birds, flying side by side for life.”

“Your Jade Slave is willing to soar with Your Majesty, to dwell together upon the branches of love for all eternity.”

As Li Longji whispered sweet nothings to his consort, a palace maid outside the screen reported that Doctor Yan sought an audience.

It was late at night, and just as he was about to enjoy an intimate moment with his beauty in the bath, this interruption stoked his ire. He scolded the maid sharply.

Terrified, the maid begged for forgiveness, never expecting that a simple report would enrage the Emperor.

Yang Yuhuan, her eyes dreamy and brimming with allure, pitied the trembling maid. Twining her arms around the Emperor’s neck, she whispered kind words in his ear, pleading on the maid’s behalf.

Amused by his beloved, Li Longji relented, instructing the maid to tell Yan Zhenqing to wait.

Yan Zhenqing noticed the maid’s tear-stained face as she delivered the message. The Emperor had told him to wait, but he cared little for such details. Anger burned within him, fueling his resolve to impeach the Princess Protector with all his might.

By the time Li Longji and his beloved emerged from the bath, an hour had passed. Yan Zhenqing had waited the entire time at the bathhouse doors, braving the biting northwest wind.

When the Emperor appeared, Yan Zhenqing swiftly presented his memorial.

Li Longji, expecting some grave matter, saw instead an impeachment of the Princess Protector. The anger he had just dispelled flared anew. After reading the memorial, his mood—once serene—was clouded with fresh indignation.

Yan Zhenqing, seeing the Emperor had finished reading, began to speak of the hardships endured by the poor outside. He enumerated the excessive expenses of the Princess Protector’s mansion, lamenting that the depleted treasury could hardly be called protective of the nation.

Li Longji drew a long breath, dismissing Yan Zhenqing’s accusations. “She saved the life of the Son of Heaven. Is my life worth less than a year’s treasury?” When Yan Zhenqing persisted, the Emperor simply dismissed him from office, sending him home. Though angry, Li Longji knew Yan Zhenqing’s loyalty was for the good of the realm. But the Princess Protector had done nothing wrong; the palace was built with his own approval, even if it emptied the coffers. Saving his life was saving the empire itself!

Stifled by disappointment, Yan Zhenqing did not linger at the Lishan posthouse. He braved the night wind, riding into the darkness—not grieved by his dismissal, but by the Emperor’s deafness to words of dissent. He did not demand the Princess’s removal, only that she, a woman born of humble stock, be made to understand the suffering of the people outside Chang’an.

His heavy sighs were swept away by the winter wind, carrying the loyal minister’s regret beyond the warmth of Mount Li.

That night, Yan Zhenqing walked the silent, indifferent streets of Chang’an, accompanied by Qingyu, commander of the Underworld Agents.

As he walked through the white, snow-laden city, he spotted a dark shape on the ground. Upon closer inspection, it was the corpse of a beggar, starved to death. Without a word, Yan Zhenqing lifted the frozen, rigid body onto his horse. With Qingyu’s help, they secured it and made their way back toward his residence.

Qingyu recognized this high official—Yan Qingchen, the Censor-in-Chief, famed for his bold, upright calligraphy and his incorruptible spirit. Yet she could not fathom why such a righteous official now appeared so desolate.

The next day, Yan Zhenqing rode to Qujiang Pool, outside the Princess Protector’s mansion.

He removed his black gauze hat and tossed it to the ground. Staring at the imposing gates and the plaque exuding righteous grandeur, he let out a self-mocking laugh. Once, he’d believed that the Princess’s rescue of the Emperor and her thwarting of the Tibetan plot was a blessing for the empire. Now, he saw her as nothing but a parasite!

He stripped off his purple robe and flung it aside. The north wind hurried past, not daring to lash this man of steel and righteous spirit.

Ignoring the Princess’s guards at the gate, Yan Zhenqing picked up a cold stone and smashed it against the mansion’s plaque, cursing “parasite” with each blow.

The guards dared not stop this furious, wild-haired deity; they watched as he smashed the plaque to the ground.

Only after the plaque shattered did they rush inside to report.

Behind Yan Zhenqing, the Underworld Marshal observed in silence, waving off his four subordinates who wanted to intervene.

A tiny creature, Zhi Zhi, scampered onto the Marshal’s shoulder, rubbed its whiskers with its little paws, then, shivering in the cold wind, burrowed into his robes for warmth.

The Marshal plucked his clingy little Zhi Zhi out and handed it back to Qingyu, turning his gaze once more to Yan Zhenqing, still cursing the Princess.

Upon hearing the commotion, Wu Yueling, the Princess Protector, thought the angry voice sounded familiar. Was it really Yan Zhenqing? When she reached the gate, she confirmed it. He was calling her a parasite? Wu Yueling was perplexed, standing across from Yan Zhenqing and listening in silence as he accused her of draining the treasury, squandering resources, and ignoring the starving masses. As the Princess Protector, did she have any thought for the people?

So that was it. Wu Yueling remembered Xu Zhucheng telling her that her design had actually saved much in labor and resources compared to his original plan. Why then did Yan Zhenqing hate her so bitterly?

She sensed something amiss, though she couldn’t pinpoint what. When Yan Zhenqing had shouted himself hoarse, coughing several times, Wu Yueling ordered Xiaochun to bring tea for him.

Yan Zhenqing accepted the tea without ceremony, drinking a few gulps before, in the Princess’s presence, continuing his criticisms—occasionally, in his agitation, lacing them with bitter scorn.

Two hours passed. Yan Zhenqing, his voice now hoarse, remained at the gate, declaiming the Princess’s faults, his stomach rumbling in protest.

Wu Yueling did not leave. She listened quietly to this upright official who berated her so fiercely. Was this not the mark of a loyal minister? She wanted to explain, but realized such matters could not be clarified in a few words, and so she continued to listen to his reproaches.

She had Wan’er arrange a table and couch for the meal, set out some dishes, and went to invite Yan Zhenqing to sit, pouring him wine. Noticing he wore no outer coat and his nose was running from the cold, she draped her own cloak over his shoulders.

Later, she had Xiaochun bring a thick robe for Yan Zhenqing, so he would not suffer from the chill.

Yan Zhenqing continued to eat and point out what the Princess should and shouldn’t have done. Gradually, his tone softened from scolding to earnest advice, until at last he took his leave.

Wu Yueling also noticed the Underworld Agents who accompanied Yan Zhenqing. She had wanted to invite them to dine as well, but they refused.

After tidying the table, Wu Yueling found the black gauze hat and purple robe still on the ground, a vague sense of foreboding creeping over her.

On the road back to the city, Qingyu was puzzled and asked Zhang Heng why the Princess was not angry.

Zhang Heng replied, “This is returning good for evil. The Princess is a person of great magnanimity. Spread the word about this, but do not take sides.”

“Say that Yan Zhenqing cursed the Princess Protector for emptying the treasury and ignoring the people’s suffering, while the Princess responded with tea and forbearance.”

A few days later, rumors spread that the Princess Protector’s mansion was distributing porridge; anyone with official registration could receive hot porridge and a cotton coat.

The Underworld Agents disseminated further news: the Princess Protector, wise and understanding, had been awakened by Yan Zhenqing’s rebuke and, recognizing her error, now truly protected both country and people.

Soon after, the Crown Prince himself came forth from the palace to distribute porridge and aid the people.

For a time, not even the wind and snow could stifle the warmth that spread through Chang’an.

Ten days later, when Li Longji returned to the city, Li Linfu, eager to fan the flames, recounted Yan Zhenqing’s denunciation of the Princess Protector’s mansion. In a fury, the Emperor issued an edict immediately removing Yan Zhenqing from his post as Censor-in-Chief, demoting him to Prefect of Pingyuan, to take up his new appointment at once.

(End of this chapter)