Empress of Bright Moon

by Weina Dai Randel

  She hesitated. “She does not like to talk or to be touched, that we know, but attacking…” She shook her head.

  “I see.” I stared at the Pure Lady in utter sympathy. Her torture in the kennel might have been over, but her memory of the torture would never end. “How is Sujie?”

  He was hiding under the table, his arms covering his head.

  “It has been two months since he was rescued, and he has not said a word,” the Noble Lady said, her pretty eyes looking sad.

  I sighed. I had hoped the little prodigy would recover more quickly than his mother. “Clean up the shards,” I said to the maids near the door. “And now, someone get the court physicians. Tell them the Pure Lady needs them.”

  Meng Shen, the disciple of the great physician Sun Simiao, came promptly. After an extensive examination, he gave a diagnosis. The Lady’s pulse was erratic, he said in a halting voice. It was a polite term for a mind that had gone insane.

  My heart was heavy when I walked out of the Quarters. I thought of what Gaoyang had told me earlier. There was some truth in what she said, that the pavilion built with fear would shrink. I could see there were only two ways that could happen next: either you let the roof crush you, or you destroy the roof.

  I understood what I had to do. Raising my head to the sky, I greedily breathed in the crisp winter air.

  “Come, Gaoyang,” I said, beckoning to her and my maids behind me. “We must speak to the Emperor. Now.”

  • • •

  Pheasant had already left when I reached the garden. Hong was napping. I instructed all my maids to stay by my son’s side, made sure the garden’s gate would remain closed, and then went to the Outer Palace with Princess Gaoyang.

  I found Pheasant in the clearing in front of the Archery Hall, where many ministers and servants were gathered. Pheasant was playing Pitching-a-Pot with the General; Prince Ke; Fang Yi’ai; Pheasant’s former tutor, Minister Xu Jingzong; and several other ministers.

  While the servants ran to inform Pheasant of my arrival, I sat on a stool near an oak tree with Gaoyang.

  “I do hope the Pure Lady will recover,” I said and wiped my face. I was perspiring, even though this was a cold winter.

  “What happened to her is an injustice.” Gaoyang tossed her braid behind her back. “The court is a dark place, Luminous Lady. You should know that by now.”

  “I promise you the Pure Lady will have her justice, Gaoyang. That’s why we’re here.”

  “That is not what I’m talking about.”

  Pheasant strode toward me with his consultants before I could ask what she meant.

  “Here you are, Luminous Lady,” he said. Wearing a golden robe with a medallion of coiled dragons embroidered in the front, he looked handsome, confident, and agile.

  “Your Majesty.” I rose to bow to him.

  “Sit, sit.” He gestured to me with the arrows he used to play the Pitching-a-Pot game. “My lady. You’re getting big.”

  I smiled happily despite the gloominess sitting in my heart. It was true my stomach was growing round fast with my second pregnancy. “Princess Gaoyang and I have something important to tell you, Your Majesty.” I waved away the maids and the servants around me and told him what the physician had said about the Pure Lady.

  “Insane?” Pheasant frowned. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. Princess Gaoyang heard it too.”

  Gaoyang nodded. “She struck Luminous Lady, and she also believed Luminous Lady was Empress Wang.”

  Around Pheasant, Prince Ke and Fang Yi’ai frowned.

  “The Empress has driven the Pure Lady insane.” Pheasant’s chest heaved in anger. “I will not let her get away with this. What do you say, Brother?”

  Prince Ke nodded. “Now, Your Majesty, perhaps you may wish to revisit our plan.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right, Prince Ke. This is why I came here,” I said.

  “I thought you changed your mind.” Pheasant looked surprised, but he was grinning, the lines around his eyes deepening. He was no longer young, and his eyes were darker than they used to be, but that smile was more beautiful than anything I had ever seen.

  “I know…” I looked around me. The ministers, Pheasant’s attendants, my maids, and other eunuch servants had wandered to the edge of the clearing. I did not want them to know we were discussing something important. I took Pheasant’s arm. “Come, let’s talk and play.”

  Pheasant nodded and led me to the center of the field where many brass pots stood in rows. There were only five of us—Pheasant, Gaoyang, Prince Ke, Fang Yi’ai, and me—and we were safely out of earshot. “We can talk here. Do you want to try?” He handed me two arrows.

  “Well, I shall be honored.” I took the arrows from his hand and stepped in front of the row of brass pots. Each pot was identical, with two rings around the opening. The goal was to toss arrows into the openings, each indicating different scores. I positioned myself ten paces away from it. I had never played this game, and it certainly was harder than I had thought. But I needed to do something so the people at the far end would not get suspicious about us.

  “Prince Ke.” I called him over, and even though I was certain none of the servants could hear me, I lowered my voice. “I do hope you still have the statement ready.”

  “Why, of course, Luminous Lady.” The prince took a few arrows from a quiver too.

  “What are you thinking, Luminous Lady?” Pheasant asked, pacing in front of the brass pots.

  “We will hold the trial,” I said. “The Pure Lady must have justice.”

  Pheasant nodded. “When?”

  “As soon as possible,” I said.

  “Tomorrow.” Pheasant nodded again.

  “There is just one more thing.” I gazed at the pot’s opening, holding the arrow tight in my hand. “Have you seen the Regent recently?”

  “No. I haven’t seen him for a month. I heard he caught a chill. He was bedridden for weeks.”

  “I heard he scolded the heir a few weeks ago,” I said. The Empress, intending to win the Regent’s support for her new son, had invited the Regent for a feast. It had gone well, and the Regent appeared pleasant, but when they were leaving the feast, the heir passed ahead of the Regent, showing great disrespect to the elderly.

  “Ah. I heard that too. My uncle said the heir needs to learn some manners, and he also unleashed a tirade of how young people these days fail to observe ancient etiquette and grow to be boorish.” Pheasant threw an arrow at a brass pot. The arrow missed the pot and fell on the grass. Princess Gaoyang snickered, and Pheasant frowned at her.

  “My turn,” Princess Gaoyang said, and a dozen arrows flew out of her hands. They dropped into the pot’s small opening as though they had eyes to see where they were going.

  Pheasant groaned. I tried hard not to smile. “Well, I do hope the Regent will be in a better mood,” I said, positioning myself in front of the brass pot in the center. “For we’re going to visit him.”

  “I thought you didn’t like the Regent,” Princess Gaoyang said.

  I shrugged. “Prince Ke is right. We must follow the protocol. If we try the Empress without the Regent’s knowledge, he might be offended, and we may face some difficulties. But if the Regent decides to help us, he will be a powerful ally.” Then the Empress would have no chance to fight back, even with her uncle and her newly found support.

  If he refused, well, then we would face unknown challenges at the trial.

  “I agree with Luminous Lady, and I think it is very possible the Regent will be on our side,” Prince Ke said.

  “There’s no doubt about that. My uncle is wise.” Pheasant waved his hand.

  “Then we will visit him tonight,” I said to Pheasant. We would bring gifts. The imperial vault, an enormous two-story building, stored countless precious tributes presented by many ambassadors, khans,
foreign merchants, and vassals over the years. I would choose something valuable to bring. “And, Gaoyang, would you come to my garden tomorrow and help me with the Pure Lady? I’m afraid with her mental condition she might resist if we force her to leave her chamber.”

  “As you wish, Luminous Lady.” She raised her hand, aiming at the brass pot again.

  “So it’s settled.” Pheasant nodded. “We’ll speak to my uncle, and then tomorrow we will give her a trial.”

  “We shall have everything ready for you by then, Your Majesty,” Prince Ke said.

  “Luminous Lady, forgive me to speak this at the moment,” Fang Yi’ai, his face solemn, said. “But I wish to warn you that if we start the trial, we’re also inviting an onslaught of the Empress and her family.”

  “Who’s afraid of her?” Princess Gaoyang waved her hand. “As long as I am here, she will not touch Luminous Lady.”

  I smiled, grateful for Princess Gaoyang and her protection. Indeed, I was very fortunate to have her friendship.

  “I’m pleased to hear it,” I said and held a hand out to Gaoyang. “Wait for a moment. It’s my turn.” I tossed my arrow into the pot in front of me. With a swift motion, it fell into the opening with a clear click. The men chuckled around me, and Princess Gaoyang looked at me, her eyebrows arched in surprise.

  I shrugged happily. She had skills, but I had luck, and with that, I should win the Regent’s support.

  But when I looked at the edge of the field again, I froze. The ministers and the servants were either walking idly or whispering among themselves, but behind them, near a tree, a lank figure with a slightly stooped back appeared. His hand supporting his chin, he was watching us. It was too far to see the expression on his face, but there was no mistaking who he was.

  The heir.

  He was indeed a useful son to his mother. Only a few months into his new position, and he had learned many skills and helped consolidate his mother’s power. Why had he come to the field? Was he eavesdropping on us?

  He turned around and walked away.

  20

  When the night descended, Pheasant and I put on plain clothes—he a purple tunic, and I a black gown—and went to the back of the orchard, where a small carriage was hidden. Our gifts were already loaded inside, and the General and one of his guards were waiting for us. “The General will protect us when we travel in the city,” Pheasant had told me. “The curfew is after dusk. He will help us reenter the palace.” I had brought only Apricot with me, and quietly, we left the palace.

  I sat on the carriage’s silk-cushioned seat and leaned back. How would the Regent react to the news of the trial? Would he be angry at us and accuse us of making a scandal? Or would he be relieved the Empress would be impeached? He did not like her. He was displeased with the Empress’s barrenness, and he had proposed to relieve her of the duty in the workshops.

  He did not like me either, and he had exiled me. But he had also recognized my Luminous Lady title, and recently, his attitude toward me had softened a great deal.

  I had a good feeling about this. We would win the Regent’s support.

  The Regent lived in a ward south of the palace. It required an hour’s walk with two horses. If we hurried, we could reach it much more quickly, but I did not wish to attract attention, so we trotted slowly. When we arrived at his house, the watchman had just rung the gong seven times to inform the residents of the hour of the night, and everywhere the lanterns hung low from the eaves.

  The Regent’s house looked majestic, even in the dark. It had two thick vermilion gates, with a string of red lanterns on both sides. From a distance, it looked like one of the halls in the palace.

  The General sent his guard to inform the old man of our arrival, and moments later, wearing a black hat, a purple silk robe, and black leather boots, the Regent came to greet us. Behind him were his family members: two sons, nine daughters, eight grandchildren, one wife, ten concubines, and many servants.

  “Your Majesty, on behalf of the Changsun family, I hereby extend my warmest welcome to you and Luminous Lady to my humble dwelling. Your visit has given me and my family great honor, and we shall be eternally grateful.”

  He looked submissive, kneeling by the carriage, observing the custom of paying respect to a ruler. I wondered what really was in his mind. He certainly had not expected our visit, but he did not say anything about it, and I was also surprised to see how agile he appeared. When I saw him in the hall last time, he had looked rather frail. But tonight he appeared spry and energetic.

  “There is no need for such courtesy.” Pheasant helped him rise. “This is an informal visit.”

  But the Regent insisted, and all his family members dipped their heads, prostrating, chanting the lines of how grateful they were to receive the ruler of the kingdom. When finally they finished, Pheasant stepped inside the house, and I followed, trailed by Apricot and Pheasant’s two attendants. The General guarded the outside of the house.

  The reception hall was spacious. A sign displaying the characters Zhi Hui Tang, the Hall of Wisdom, was set in the center of the room. The walls were painted with murals of eight immortals and the famous Penglai Islands. Lined against the walls were several shelves that held many gold and silver statues. In the left corner of the hall were twelve panels of screens made of aloeswood encrusted with gold, and in the right corner of the hall stood a human-height jade statue of a phoenix.

  The Regent’s wealth was evident, and the layout of the hall reminded me of my family’s large home in Wenshui.

  “Sit, sit.” The Regent ushered us to a row of low-rising tables. The womenfolk retired, as custom forbade them socializing with us. But they would not miss any of our conversation. I could see their shadows lurking behind the screens.

  An awkward silence hung in the reception hall as we took our places at a table near the screens. The Regent studied us wordlessly. He knew we had come for a reason. After all, it was unusual for an emperor to pay a visit to someone’s house, even if the person was his uncle.

  “Esteemed Regent, how gracious of you to accept us into your home.” I sat next to Pheasant. I was uncomfortable sitting on the cushion on the floor, for I could feel my swelling stomach sitting on my thighs, but I smiled pleasantly, to show him and his sons my friendliness. “And look, what a fine residence you have.”

  “Praise our Emperor Taizong,” the Regent said and sat across from us with his sons. His back stooping, he groaned as though his bones were hurting, but his eyes darted quickly, and he did not seem to have trouble remembering his words like he did last time I had seen him. “He gave my family this dwelling when my sister became the Empress. My family and my ancestors shall take eternal pride in this honor.”

  I did not like that he mentioned the late Emperor, but I continued to smile. After all, I had not come here to elicit war.

  “That was very thoughtful of Father,” Pheasant said, nodding.

  “Your father was a great man, most loyal and most benevolent. I confess, when he ordered me to assist Your Majesty, I was fearful of this challenge. I questioned myself whether I was worthy, but now I can speak with confidence that I have fulfilled your father’s wish and I do not fail him.”

  “Of course, Uncle. We are grateful for your meritorious contribution to our kingdom,” Pheasant said sincerely.

  I did not like the direction of the conversation. I tugged at Pheasant’s sleeve under the table.

  “I almost forgot.” Pheasant waved his hand, and his attendants stepped forward, carrying a chest, placed it in front of the Regent, and then carried in another. Inside the chests were two hundred bolts of silk, many precious fragrances, spices, seasonings, and gold and silver, gifts fit for a khan. I wished we could have opened them and shown the Regent the extravagance, but that would have been poor manners.

  His sons glanced at each other, their eyes filled with excitement, but the Regent’
s face remained blank, like a snowy field. “I cannot accept these, Your Majesty. This is too extravagant,” he said. We insisted, and he declined again. In this manner we continued one more time—as was the protocol—and finally, he accepted the gifts. “I thank you, Nephew and Luminous Lady, for your generous bestowals. Now, please do us an enormous honor and accept some refreshments.”

  “Do not trouble yourself, Uncle,” Pheasant said. But the servants already hurried to bring us trays of fruit, wine, and meats. The hall grew noisy with footsteps and servants’ voices.

  “I shall be grateful for your hospitality, esteemed Regent,” I said, feeling relaxed. Food was a good distraction.

  He gave me a look that was filled with meaning. “Luminous Lady, it is a pleasure to see you again. I heard you have become a great patron to Buddhist temples and monasteries. This is utterly heartwarming,” he said, his tone flat, and I could not tell whether he was truly complimenting me or not. Like many nobles, he did not agree with Buddhism, and he was a devout Taoist, like Emperor Taizong.

  “I’m surprised this has come to your attention,” I said, although I knew nothing would escape his sharp eyes. “Of course, it cannot compare to what you have contributed to the Taoist abbeys, esteemed Regent.”

  A great champion of Taoism, the Regent had continued to support the official religion of the kingdom after Emperor Taizong’s death. He had designated an astounding number of cattle to the abbeys as an annual fund, fattening the priests and their followers, as Taoists did not have restrictions on diet. Furthermore, all the Taoist priests, regardless of their ranks and services to the kingdom, were given the privilege of receiving monthly allowances, including clothes, incense fees, and food compensations, the amount far exceeding that of a Talent in the palace.

  “Buddhism is a superficial religion,” the Regent said, waving his hand dismissively. “Its emphasis on hell and salvation is rather outlandish and sensational. It appeals mostly to butchers, burglars, and beggars. Any sensible scholars will see that. Are you a Buddhist yourself, Luminous Lady?”