Chapter 71: A Glimpse of Lethal Intent (Part Two)

Damn woman, if you want to seek death, do it yourself—don’t drag us brothers down with you. For someone like Helan Minyue, a seductress if ever there was one, Li Xian had never harbored much ill will; in fact, he’d nursed a faint hope. After all, with Helan Minyue and her daughter stirring up trouble in the harem, Empress Wu’s attention would be somewhat divided. But after Helan Minyue’s earlier shriek, even the last vestiges of Li Xian’s goodwill evaporated, and he wished he could stuff a filthy rag into her prim little mouth.

“Father, Mother, my sixth brother and I have brought the gifts we prepared—may we present them now?” Though seething inwardly, Li Xian could not allow Li Xian to erupt in court. He stepped forward, standing half a pace ahead and slightly in front of his brother, blocking him with studied nonchalance. He bowed and announced in a clear voice.

Li Xian was clearly overthinking. The past half year as a regional prince had taught Li Xian restraint. Though displeasure boiled within, he had no intention of losing his temper here; he simply struggled to contain himself. Now, with Li Xian’s timely interruption, his anger faded a little more, and a touch of gratitude entered his gaze, for he sensed the protective intent behind his brother’s act.

“Good, good, bring them forward, bring them forward.”

The Emperor’s luck today was truly sour. After lunch, with nothing pressing, he’d planned to summon Lady Wu Shun and her daughter for wine and laughter while Empress Wu tended to little Princess Taiping. Who could have foreseen his mood would be so abruptly ruined by Empress Wu’s unexpected arrival? And as if that weren’t enough, both his sons appeared at the palace gates—he could hardly refuse to see them. Thus, when the two brothers entered, the awkwardness was palpable. Despite the pleasant smile he maintained from the throne, he was already impatient to be done with it all. So when Li Xian announced the arrival of the gifts, the Emperor was only too glad for the pretext to move things along, dispensing with any consultation with Empress Wu and briskly commanding the gifts be offered.

“Yes, Father. Your son obeys.”

Just as the Emperor had no wish for the night to drag on, so too did Li Xian. Once the gifts were presented and a few words of praise spoken, the brothers could excuse themselves. Not daring to delay, Li Xian quickly signaled the young eunuchs to bring the chests forward. He opened the lids himself, drew out two slender boxes, and, carrying them, approached the Emperor’s seat, stopping three paces short. He lifted both boxes high above his head and bowed deeply. “Father, Mother, my sixth brother and I have prepared these small tokens. We beg you to inspect them.”

“Very well, bring them here.”

The Emperor’s desire to see the gifts was but a pretense, yet when he glimpsed the two slender boxes—so unlike the usual gift containers—his interest was genuinely piqued. Smiling, he gestured, and a young eunuch hurried to take the boxes from Li Xian and present them to the throne.

“Oh? What might this be…” The Emperor lifted the lid, revealing a folding fan with a jade frame and silk surface. He stared in surprise, then hesitantly took it out, examining it up and down, unable to discern its use—understandably so. Folding fans were popular in the official circles of Chang’an, but while they could be bought in Luoyang’s markets, they hadn’t caught on in the palace. At least, the Emperor himself had never seen one and didn’t know how to use it.

“Father, this is a folding fan—mine is the same.” Li Xian smiled, drew a fan from his wide sleeve, snapped it open with a flick of his wrist, and demonstrated by waving it gracefully.

“Oh? Such ingenuity! Good, very good—just to my liking. Excellent, excellent. Both you and your brother have been most thoughtful. Meiniang, look how exquisite this fan is—so comfortable in the hand, truly delightful!” Whether the Emperor’s enthusiasm was genuine or simply meant to smooth over the earlier awkwardness, his words tumbled forth effusively.

“If the Emperor is pleased, that is all that matters. I, too, think it’s quite fine.” Empress Wu, with a glance at Li Xian both meaningful and indifferent, did not touch the gift before her, only smiled faintly and echoed his words.

“Very well, since the Empress approves, I shall accept this fan as a sign of your filial devotion. You two have traveled hard these many days—no doubt you’re tired. You may go and rest.” Clearly, the Emperor was eager to be gone from the Hall of Benevolence—not even waiting for the brothers to make their excuses, he rose with a cheerful word, waving the fan as he strode out. Helan Minyue and her daughter, seeing this, wasted no time. They rose, curtsied to Empress Wu, uttered a brief farewell, and hurried after the Emperor, leaving only the two brothers in the awkward position of having to see everyone off.

“We await your instructions, Mother.”

Once the others had left, Empress Wu made no move, not even glancing at her sons. Eyes lowered, she sat in silent contemplation, her stillness casting a heavy pall over the hall and making the brothers deeply uneasy. After a long, suffocating silence, Li Xian, realizing this could not go on, stepped forward and bowed to seek instruction.

“No instructions are needed. If Xian’er governs well and brings prosperity, that is enough. And if Xian applies himself to study and self-discipline, he will be worthy in time. I have no worries. Most precious is your thoughtfulness—this pleases me greatly. You are both tired; go and rest.”

Hearing Li Xian speak, a cold gleam flashed through Empress Wu’s downcast eyes, but when she looked up, her face was all gentle approval as she praised her sons.

“Mother overpraises us. We will remember your teachings and strive each day not to disappoint you. As it grows late, we will not disturb your rest any longer.” The brothers, eager to be dismissed, made their bows and left the hall side by side.

“Hmph!”

After they left, Empress Wu sat motionless for a long while, her expression darkening, her thoughts shifting rapidly. At length she snorted softly, stood with measured grace, gave not so much as a glance to the gifts on the table, and, with a flick of her sleeve, swept from the Hall of Benevolence.

“Seventh Brother, come to my residence for a gathering, won’t you?”

Li Xian and Li Xian left the palace in silence. As they reached their carriages, Li Xian suddenly issued the invitation.

“Sixth Brother, I ought to accept with pleasure, but I am truly exhausted today—would tomorrow morning not be better?” Li Xian hesitated, tempted to agree, but in the end forced himself to refuse. He had not yet worked out his next steps; meeting now would be pointless. Thus, he politely declined.

“Very well, tomorrow it is. Take care, then—I’ll go on ahead.”

Li Xian did not insist. He nodded and climbed into his carriage. Soon, the party set out with great clamor toward the Prince of Lu’s villa.

Trouble looms—this time, someone’s likely to die! After seeing his brother off, Li Xian did not linger. With a word to Gao Miao, he entered his own carriage, turning over the day’s events in his mind. He was now certain of Empress Wu’s murderous intent, but how to respond remained a mystery. In his previous life, Li Xian had not accompanied the imperial party to Mount Tai, and all he knew of what happened at the Fengshan ceremony was hearsay: Helan Minyue and her daughter both perished, reportedly poisoned at a Wu family banquet. Whether this was true, he couldn’t say. What he did know was that Empress Wu’s two cousins, Wu Weiliang and Wu Huaiyun, bore the blame and were beheaded by her order; their families exiled to the frontiers. Thereafter, no one in the harem could rival Empress Wu for favor, and the Emperor, already cowed by his wife, lost any will to resist. The court, too, decayed from that point onward.

Ruthless—that was Empress Wu’s true nature. If you stood in her way, whether brother, sister, or even her own children, she would kill without hesitation. Li Xian had long been prepared for this and was not surprised. On the other hand, those two “cousins” dying was no bad thing—it spared future trouble when Empress Wu used them to manipulate the court. Better still if Wu Sansi and Wu Chengsi, already dead by then, could have been eliminated as well. In that sense, Li Xian was even inclined to help matters along—if the Wu clan were destroyed root and branch, it would be a blessing. As for how to do this, he would act according to the circumstances, but he remained uncertain whether he should intervene at all.

To be sure, Li Xian disliked Helan Minyue, that reckless woman. Yet, her presence in the harem did divide Empress Wu’s favor and, at the very least, distracted her. If only her mother died and she survived, it would be ideal. But whether such an outcome was possible was doubtful. In short, the chances of success were slim, and if he himself were implicated, it would be a disaster—Li Xian had no intention of becoming a scapegoat. Therefore, whether or not to get involved required careful consideration. For now, he had no solution, and his head began to ache.