Leaving the Changmen Palace - LTCP 22: Sister-In-Law

While Liu Che found comfort in Chen Jiao’s presence, he remained ultimately the sovereign of the vast empire. If he were to allow himself to be so easily swayed by the hollow words of a woman, driven solely by personal desire, he would cease to embody the true spirit of himself.

Nonetheless, his desire to advance new policies persisted.

To confront the Xiongnu, internal stability within the Han Dynasty was essential. The greatest obstacle, however, lay within—the princes of the Liu clan, whose influence in certain regions often rivaled that of the emperor himself.

To weaken these powerful relatives, he employed whatever ideological tools he could—be it Confucianism, Mohism, or Legalism—each serving his imperial strategy. The philosophy of Huang-Lao was ultimately cast aside, relegated to the back of the young emperor’s mind.

In August of that year, he promoted his two mentors and, in a fit of anger, enacted three sweeping policies that laid the groundwork for the vigorous reforms of the first year.

Such upheavals did not stop at Chang’an; even the palaces of Changle and Weiyang were swiftly thrown into disarray.

Most princesses and daughters of princes were wed to marquesses, and which of them did not spend their lives in Chang’an? When the command was issued for them to depart for their respective fiefdoms, these illustrious branches of nobility—these shimmering branches of gold and jade—were filled with dread at the thought of leaving the wealth and splendor of the most prosperous city in the world to settle in distant, impoverished frontier lands.

Naturally, they hurried to the palace to seek an audience, voicing their grievances to the three mistresses. Inspired by the examples set by these princesses, the wives of marquesses—whether they held high status or not—also sought to avoid such a fate.

Those of noble standing sent representatives to petition the palace directly, while those of lesser rank relied on their betters to plead on their behalf.

Ultimately, their plea was simple: the distance was vast, the mountains and rivers treacherous, and the lands poor and desolate. They feared the many hardships that awaited on the journey and harbored a deep reluctance to leave the comfort and prosperity of their home city.

“The grand empress dowager had visited the Kingdom of Dai. Although it bore the title of a kingdom, the city itself was modest in size. Upon departing the palace, one could reach the city gate in less than a thousand steps. Unless it was a market day, fresh goods were rarely seen, perhaps only once every month or two.” When Chen Jiao arrived at Changshou Hall to pay her respects, she encountered a young woman gently explaining to her grandmother.

“No matter what, the Kingdom of Dai isn’t far from the capital. But our side of Huainan—oh, it’s truly a remote place. Sometimes my father dreams of Chang’an, and he often says that, even as a commoner, he would prefer to reside there.”

Both the grand empress dowager and the empress dowager listened intently. Behind them stood four or five wives of marquesses, many of whom had spent their entire lives near Chang’an.

As they absorbed the young woman’s words, they exchanged glances, their faces betraying a shared sense of unease.

“Liu Ling hadn’t been to Chang’an at the time and thought Shouchun was already one of the most prosperous places in the world. Even if it wasn’t as good as Chang’an, it was probably comparable to Luoyang.” The young woman covered her lips with a smile, at which the grand empress dowager laughed loudly, “I didn’t think I would become so arrogant in Chang’an and feel like a frog in a well.”

After telling a joke, she slowly stood up and bowed to Chen Jiao.

Her posture was elegant, like the flowing sound of a flute, lively and elegant, “Liu Ling, Princess of Huainan, has met the empress.”

The voice in Chen Jiao’s head hummed for a long time and said softly, “Oh, so it’s her.” It sounded as if it knew Liu Ling.

She couldn’t help but become a little curious and looked at Liu Ling a few more times before she smiled, waved her hand, and said to everyone, “Stand up, everyone. Why are you so polite?”

She turned her head gracefully, inclining her body in a respectful bow before the empress dowager and the grand empress dowager.

“Jiaojiao humbly greets the empress dowager and the grand empress dowager,” she said softly.

The elders of the two palaces responded with warm smiles, and the grand empress dowager, feigning mild displeasure, chided her with a gentle tone, “Your mother has only entered the palace seven or eight times this month, and yet you’ve also adopted her casualness. You haven’t paid your respects to me for two days!”

The empress dowager’s voice grew kinder as she said, “Empress, rise quickly. You’re always so cautious and courteous—yet aren’t you even more filial and respectful than anyone else?”

This remark subtly praised Chen Jiao’s filial piety while highlighting the harmonious relationship between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. Yet, it was precisely this single statement that revealed the genuine closeness and intimacy shared between the two palaces.

Princess of Pingyang had been seated beside the grand empress dowager, holding a position just below her mother in rank.

When Chen Jiao arrived, she had yet to shift her place, yet the grand empress dowager repeatedly beckoned, “Why don’t you come sit beside me?”

Despite both being grandchildren, this particular granddaughter was truly the cherished favorite of the venerable lady. The late emperor had left behind seven or eight princesses, among whom the three sisters held notably noble statuses; however, the old lady paid them little mind.

She regarded them almost on par with princesses born of concubines—companions with whom she could converse to pass the time, and from whom she could seek favors through gentle words when in a good mood. Yet, none could compare to Chen Jiao.

Though she was not spoiled or arrogant, her obedience and close bond with the old lady made her irreplaceable. It was insufficient merely to have married her into the palace; she was deeply missed even after only two days apart.

Princess of Pingyang was compelled to step back and relinquish her prime position among the third generation, allowing Chen Jiao to take her place. Though she felt a sense of injustice, the others regarded it as a natural affair.

Even the empress dowager did not take it to heart; instead, she greeted Chen Jiao with a warm smile and introduced her graciously, “This is Liu Ling, the youngest daughter of the King of Huainan, whom he treasures dearly. She married the youngest son of the Marquess of Changle, and their union is relatively new. They have come to reside in the capital together.”

Such arrangements were commonplace during that time. While the princes remained under strict oversight, men from various marquesates also faced restrictions on their movements in and out of the capital. Nonetheless, princesses who had already married and settled in Chang’an with their husbands did not breach any social norms.

The empress dowager’s tone revealed a touch of delight, indicating her fondness for the amiable and witty Princess of Huainan.

Chen Jiao first cast an apologetic glance toward Princess of Pingyang, then offered a gentle smile as she said, “That’s fortunate. The youngest son of the Marquess of Changle holds no official title, so the princess need not relocate to her fiefdom. She can continue to reside in Chang’an comfortably for a long time—what is there to fear?”

With this single remark, Liu Ling was distinguished from the other wives of the marquesses.

Even Princess of Pingyang, whose mind had just begun to find comfort, was stirred once more: indeed, as the emperor’s elder sister, she was theoretically among the last to depart. Yet, Liu Che’s personal greeting to his elder sister served as a testament to his resolve, encouraging the Marquess of Pingyang, the Marquess of Nangong, and the Marquess of Longlu to set a noble example.

“If it weren’t for grandmother’s age and her inability to part from aunt even for a moment,” Chen Jiao’s younger brother sincerely expressed, “I would even wish Jiaojiao to step forward and request that the Marquess of Tangyi move to his own fiefdom to establish his household.”

Although these words sound refined and persuasive, one cannot truly believe that Chen Jiao would willingly allow her family to undertake such a long journey to settle elsewhere.

Liu Ling had finally succeeded in charming everyone with a few carefully chosen words, simultaneously prompting the old woman to reflect deeply on the inhumane nature of the policy that sent people out of the capital.

Chen Jiao’s light and graceful remarks had subtly constrained Liu Ling’s sense of identity; she was not destined for exile to another land, and to speak out again on behalf of others risked appearing meddlesome.

Generally, Liu Ling’s judgments about people were accurate, yet she was momentarily caught off guard. Recognizing the delicate situation, she chose not to argue with Chen Jiao.

Softly, she replied, “The empress is indeed correct. Once I arrived in Chang’an, I had no desire to leave.”

Striving to avoid offending either side, she echoed Chen Jiao’s sentiments and ultimately offered her support to the women. Her actions immediately garnered their gratitude.

Watching this unfold, Chen Jiao couldn’t help but secretly rejoice: Liu Ling truly possesses a masterful way with words.

The voice responded dismissively, “What’s so impressive about that? She’s a good speaker, and she’s even more attractive.”

It elongated its words in a peculiar tone but chose not to continue.

Yet, Chen Jiao, having been conditioned by its habits, couldn’t help but wonder inwardly, “Could it be that Liu Che even had an affair with her?”

At that time, the princes and kings of the various fiefdoms were embroiled in all manner of sordid scandals. There were numerous cases of siblings being involved in illicit relationships, sometimes leading to forced suicides after the truth was uncovered—stories she was familiar with.

These princes governed their territories on behalf of the Liu family, and since the realm was not truly their own, they often exerted little effort.

The court, vigilant and discerning, paid particular attention to those who genuinely managed their fiefs effectively. Those who were more honest and diligent often spent their days indulging in excess—wine, lavish feasts, and reckless dreams of escape.

Generally, princesses and princes born into the imperial family held moral standards vastly different from ordinary people. Incest between siblings was considered almost trivial… Yet, it was astonishing to realize just how far Liu Che’s behavior could sink into the absurd.

“No, not really! But he constantly thought about it and regretted that she was a daughter of the Liu family.” The voice sounded with a hint of glee, “He once said that if she weren’t a daughter of the Liu family, she would have been a good candidate for the empress.”

Chen Jiao almost spit out the honey water from her cup. She quickly turned her head and coughed slightly.

The empress dowager was extremely nervous and was about to ask the Princess of Pingyang, “How is the Marquess of Pingyang?” But when she heard Chen Jiao cough, she asked repeatedly, “Why did you suddenly choke?” and gave up asking.

When someone with ulterior motives looks at someone without ulterior motives, they always see ulterior motives.

Princess of Pingyang couldn’t help but think of Liu Che’s idea.

When she looked at Chen Jiao again, she noticed that there was something wrong with her cough. A bold and absurd idea arose from the bottom of her heart, and soon the more she thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed: Is it possible that Chen Jiao was the one who proposed relinquishing the ailing land of Pingyang to her brother?

Liu Che has always been obedient to Chen Jiao and loves her very much.

The two have always been at odds, and she has never said much good about Chen Jiao in front of her mother. She was afraid that Chen Jiao would hear about it, and Chen Jiao would hold a grudge and say a few exaggerations about her brother…

Thinking of the fact that her aunt offered a beauty, which caused her mother to be beaten by her grandmother and she herself to be scolded, Princess of Pingyang felt a little uneasy.

But she quickly restrained the expression on her face, revealing only a trace of concern, and asked Chen Jiao, “Did you drink too fast? You will be fine if you drink it all in one breath.”

Only after Chen Jiao had regained her composure did the throng surrounding her in the Changshou Hall gradually disperse.

The grand empress dowager, however, had been speaking at length and was beginning to show clear signs of weariness. In her unwavering filial piety, the empress dowager insisted on personally serving the grand empress dowager her meal, prompting the princesses and ladies to quietly withdraw.

Princess of Pingyang, meanwhile, was lost in thought as she made her way back to her residence.

A few days later, when Liu Che returned from the Xuanshi Hall to dine at the Jiaofang Hall, he casually remarked to Chen Jiao, “My elder sister has sent two beauties. I’ve seen them and liked them. You may bring them to the Yongxiang Hall and see to their arrangements.”

His tone was unpretentious, reflecting the ease with which he regarded the matter—there was no need for fuss. The Yongxiang Hall was home to many beauties, some of whom he had shown interest in and brought back during hunting trips beyond the palace walls, yet Chen Jiao had not spoken of these before.

Upon hearing this, her face darkened, and she slammed the bowl to the ground, startling Liu Che, “What does the elder sister mean?”

He had never seen Chen Jiao’s expression so solemn.

She was no longer a blooming flower, but more like a frozen spear, sharp and cold, the tip of the spear flashing with a cold light, cold and sharp.

“How did I offend her? Why does she treat me like this?”