amaotonovel Chapter 900 Yang Yuhuan
Chapter 900 Yang Yuhuan
In the third year after returning from the Fengshan ceremony at Mount Tai, the peonies in Chang'an City were in full bloom, and the blossoming trees on both sides of Suzaku Street almost blocked the center of the road.
Beside the Chenxiang Pavilion in the Daming Palace, the amber liquor in the gilded wine cup flickered, casting a fine light. Li Longji, holding the rim of the cup, gazed at the pavilion's splendor and sighed, "These flowers are in full bloom, but there is no one who can suppress them."
Gao Lishi's hand trembled slightly at his side, and then he bowed and smiled, "Your Majesty, have you forgotten? The other day by the Qujiang Lake, when Princess Yang of Shou was admiring the flowers, her beauty... even the most vibrant Yaohuang flowers on the branches seemed to fade in comparison."
These words were like a spark that fell on Li Longji's heart.
He put down his wine cup and tapped his fingertips on the table. "Oh? Li Mao's princess?"
At this time in Prince Shou's Mansion, Yang Yuhuan was staring at the bronze mirror in a daze.
The silver comb on the table lay at an angle, with a few strands of black hair tangled between its teeth. They were accidentally pulled out by Li Mao when he was combing her hair in the morning.
She looked at her face in the mirror. There was still a hint of youthfulness in her eyebrows and eyes, but there was always a thin mist in her eyes. Ever since the imperial decree to "pray for Empress Dowager Dou" came from the palace three days ago, she had dreamed every night of her father Yang Xuanyan's appearance before his death.
When she was ten years old, her father died of illness while serving in Shuzhou. When the coffin floated down the Jinjiang River, she also held on to the side of the boat and watched the green mountains on both sides recede into blurred shadows.
Her uncle Yang Xuangui once touched her head and said, "Yuhuan is the daughter of the Hongnong Yang family. She must live by the rules."
On the day when she married into the Prince Shou's Mansion at the age of fifteen, she thought she would be able to see the light in Li Mao's eyes when he lifted her veil for the rest of her life.
"Madam, the palace carriage has arrived." The maid's voice was filled with tears.
Yang Yuhuan stood up suddenly, her skirt sweeping the jade hairpin off the table. The pearls on the hairpin tumbled to the ground with a rustling sound. She bent down to pick it up, her fingertips touching the cold floor tiles. Suddenly, she remembered Li Mao holding her hand and saying last night, "When the storm is over, I will definitely come to pick you up."
By then his knuckles were white from exertion and his palms were covered in sweat.
When the blue-gray gate of Taizhen Temple closed behind her, Yang Yuhuan clenched the embroidered handkerchief in her sleeve.
The corner of the handkerchief was embroidered with a pair of cuddling mandarin ducks, which was embroidered by Li Mao himself. The stitches were crooked, but so dense that they almost broke the silk thread.
The old nun in the temple came to teach her with the Tao Te Ching. She looked at the four words "purity, tranquility and inaction" on the scripture, and suddenly heard music coming from outside the wall - that was from the direction of Shouwang Mansion, Li Mao's favorite "Falling Plum Blossoms".
She covered her ears and squatted down. The plain material of her Taoist robe rubbed against the blue bricks, as if it was going to wear away her innocence.
Less than three months after entering the temple, a carriage with black curtains stopped outside the temple.
Gao Lishi personally helped her into the car. When his fingertips touched her wrist, she retracted her hand as if it was burned.
The gilded peonies on the carriage wall hurt her back. She lifted a corner of the curtain and saw a white banner fluttering on the gatehouse of Prince Shou's Mansion. Her heart sank suddenly - she later learned that it was the mourning hall set up by Li Mao for the princess who "deceased due to illness". It was a self-deceiving drama, and even his sadness had to be performed for the world to see.
I first met Li Longji in a pavilion beside Taiye Lake. He was dressed in bright yellow casual clothes, but the pearl crown on his temples exuded unquestionable majesty.
When she was forced to kneel down by the palace maids, her knees hit the hard jade floor and the pain made her vision go black.
"Raise your head." His voice was not loud, but it carried a sense of oppression as if a mountain was collapsing in front of you.
She bit her lip and looked up, seeing the surprise in his eyes, which made her feel cold all over.
"I heard you are good at playing the pipa?"
Li Longji pointed at the rosewood pipa on the table.
Her fingertips trembled as she tuned the harp, the sound of the pegs turning particularly harsh in the quiet waterside pavilion. Halfway through the song "Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Coat", a string suddenly broke, and the silvery silk string plucked, leaving a bloody mark on the back of her hand.
She hurriedly tried to cover it, but he grabbed her wrist, rubbing the bloodstain with his fingertips. His tone was strangely gentle: "Are you hurt? I'll order someone to bring the best medicine for wounds."
She pulled her hand back abruptly, and the sleeve of her Taoist robe swept across his bright yellow robe, leaving a light gray mark.
"I dare not trouble Your Majesty."
Her voice was shaking, but tears were welling up in her eyes - her mother had taught her that a daughter of the Hongnong Yang family must not cry in front of others even if a knife was held to her neck.
But the emperor's will can never be resisted.
Three days later, the news that she was taken to the Daming Palace spread throughout Chang'an, like a huge rock hitting a calm lake.
In the Purple Palace during the morning court session, the atmosphere was so solemn that water could drip out of it.
Imperial Censor Wei Zhi held his tablet, his gray beard trembling violently. "Your Majesty! Yang is the legitimate wife of Prince Shou. According to etiquette and law, she cannot enter the palace! I beg Your Majesty to revoke your order and save the dignity of the royal family!"
The thirty or so imperial censors behind him knelt down together, their armor hitting the golden brick floor, making a deafening sound.
Li Longji sat on the dragon throne, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "Is Wei Qing getting senile? Yang has already entered a Taoist temple and has no further ties to Prince Shou. How can this be against etiquette?"
"Your Majesty!" Miao Jinqing, the Vice Minister of Personnel, knelt a few steps, forehead touching the ground. "The Book of Rites says, 'The father is the leader of the son.' Your Majesty's actions will probably make the world laugh at you! I offer my bones as a warning!"
As he was about to take off his crown, Gao Lishi stopped him.
The news outside the court quickly spread to the harem.
Yang Yuhuan stood on the corridor of the Hall of Eternal Life, listening to the quarrel coming from afar, her fingertips pinching into her palms.
Last night, Li Mao asked someone to deliver a letter. There were only three words on the letter: "Don't worry about me."
The ink seeped through the back of the paper, as if it was written with tears.
She looked at the bronze crane on the corner of the hall, and suddenly remembered what her grandmother told her when she was a child: the Yang family of Hongnong had produced queens and prime ministers, but never such a ridiculous thing.
At this time in the government hall, Prime Minister Zhang Jiuling was arguing with Li Linfu.
"Your Majesty's actions are tantamount to destroying the Great Wall!"
Zhang Jiuling slammed the memorial on the table. It listed anecdotes of incest that led to the downfall of nations throughout history, the ink so strong it could see through the paper. "Your Majesty, yet you are obsessed with love, how will you face our ancestors in the future?"
Li Linfu sipped his tea leisurely. "Why is Prime Minister Zhang so stubborn? Your Majesty is only taking a concubine. What does this have to do with the country?"
"Besides, Yang has already cut off his past by entering Taoism, so there is nothing wrong with it in terms of etiquette."
He put down the teacup, a calculation flashed in his eyes - if he could use this incident to bring down Zhang Jiuling, this position would be completely stable.
The dispute eventually reached Li Longji's ears.
He looked at the pile of memorials on the desk, suddenly grabbed the top one and threw it hard to the ground.
It was Han Xiu's memorial, every word tearful: "Your Majesty, when you offered sacrifices to the gods at Mount Tai, swore to heaven to protect the people's well-being. Now, because of a woman, you have disregarded the rites and laws. I fear the wrath of heaven and the resentment of man..."
"Han Xiu, old bastard!" Li Longji roared, overturning the table. The celadon brush washer fell to the ground, and the fragments splashed on the dragon robe. "I think he is tired of living! Send an order to demote Han Xiu to the position of Sima of Hongzhou and leave the capital immediately!"
When the news came out, the court fell silent instantly.
Wei Zhi stayed indoors, Miao Jinqing claimed to be sick at home, and the decree to dismiss Zhang Jiuling from his post was on the way.
Only a young general named Wang Zhongsi was still kneeling outside the palace gate. He was Li Longji's adopted son and had served as a guard during the Fengshan ceremony at Mount Tai.
"Your Majesty!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, "I am willing to lead the troops to guard the border in exchange for Your Majesty's withdrawal of the order!" But the palace gates were closed, and his voice was quickly blown away by the wind.
At night, candlelight flickers in the Hall of Eternal Life.
Li Longji held Yang Yuhuan's hand and watched her try on the newly made brocade skirt.
The skirt was woven with Persian gold thread, and the phoenix on the hem spread its wings as if ready to fly. The gold thread alone weighed three hundred taels.
"Yuhuan, look, this color suits you so well." He smiled and straightened her hair, but didn't notice the emptiness in her eyes.
She looked at herself in the bronze mirror. Her Taoist robe had been replaced with a gorgeous dress, and her plain hairpins had been replaced with golden hairpins. But the light in her eyes was like a extinguished candle.
The sound of the night watchman's clapper came from outside the window. After three rings, everything was silent.
She suddenly remembered the handkerchief Li Mao had given her. She didn't know where she had hidden it - perhaps she should have thrown it away long ago, just like throwing away those unrealistic thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?" Li Longji hugged her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head.
She smelled the ambergris on him and suddenly felt suffocated.
"Nothing." She gently broke free, walked to the window, and looked at the waning moon in the sky. "I just feel that this moon is not as round as the one in Shouwang Mansion."
Li Longji's face darkened, then he smiled again and said, "Next Mid-Autumn Festival, I will take you to Mount Li to admire the moon, and have them cover the entire Huaqing Pool with osmanthus flowers."
He thought these were what she wanted, but he didn't know that she just missed the boy who could read poems to her under the moon.
Late at night on the palace road, Gao Lishi directed the young eunuchs to carry the jewelry given to Yang Yuhuan.
Boxes of agate, jade and pearls were transported from the national treasury to the Hall of Eternal Life. The old official guarding the national treasury looked at the empty storehouse and suddenly burst into tears - there, they once stored the food and military equipment accumulated during the Kaiyuan period, which were used to guard against border troubles and provide relief to disaster victims.
The candles in the Hall of Eternal Life burned brightly until dawn. Yang Yuhuan sat by the window, watching the first rays of morning light dye the palace walls red.
She gently took off the golden hairpin from her temples and placed it on the table. The tassels of the hairpin hung down like a string of silent tears.
She suddenly remembered the verse from the Book of Songs her father had taught her: "Alas, dove, do not eat mulberries; alas, girl, do not indulge in love with men."
She didn't understand it then, but now every word is deeply engraved in her heart.
But it was too late. She was like a peony that was forcibly broken and placed in a golden vase that did not belong to her. Even though she had endless glory, her roots had already rotted in the soil.
In the distant court, there was complete silence.
Ministers who once spoke out frankly were either demoted or put to death, and the rest learned to remain silent.