Leaving the Changmen Palace - LTCP 24: Anger

The pair of beauties presented by the Princess of Pingyang had lost favor in less than three months.

After three months, Liu Che simply ordered Chen Jiao, “Have the imperial physician prepare a contraceptive decoction and have them wash clothes in Changle Palace.”

Although Emperors Wen and Jing advocated frugality, the palace still possessed the dignity it deserved. While it may not have numbered thousands, it certainly numbered several hundred or even more than a thousand.

Chen Jiao was initially reluctant to allow the two beautiful maidens to work as laundresses.

She joked with Liu Che, “Does the elder sister really have such bad taste? Do you really dislike them so much? Three months have passed, and they haven’t even come to Jiaofang Hall for me to look at them.”

He was uninterested, “Aren’t they just two eyes and one mouth? Aside from their physical charm, I don’t find anything special about them.”

Indeed, a mere physical connection between a man and a woman would be insufficient to sustain true companionship.

While intimacy is undeniably significant, Liu Che remains youthful, driven by passion and a desire for genuine connection. He finds solace in confiding and conversing with Chen Jiao, gradually recognizing that only she possesses the understanding to ease his burdens.

Chen Jiao comprehends his struggles in a way no one else can, offering him comfort and reassurance.

Outside, he commands the formidable presence of an emperor—majestic, all-knowing, and revered by his officials and strategists—yet, he can seldom reveal his true self to them.

Within, he embodies an exemplary filial son; despite occasional quirks, his unwavering devotion to his grandmother and mother remains steadfast, ensuring he never causes them disappointment or sorrow.

Within the confines of the Jiaofang Hall alone could he truly be Liu Che, voicing his grievances freely. His deepest secrets found their safest haven with Chen Jiao.

Despite the grand empress dowager’s persistent inquiries, Chen Jiao remained steadfast, unwilling to disclose even the smallest details of the events in the Xuanshi Hall to her most trusted maternal grandmother. Even during moments of her grandmother’s fury, she chose evasion over disclosure, avoiding compromise.

Naturally, she was loath to spread his private words far and wide.

His affection for Chen Jiao deepened with each passing day; he found her quiet demeanor to be utterly endearing. Though her presence sometimes stirred fear within him, he found himself unable to part from her.

“I have taken too big a step,” Liu Che stroked her long hair and gently fanned her half-dry hair.

All the palace servants had disappeared from sight, and only Chu Fu was guarding the door.

Even though he was the emperor, he had to fan it himself if he wanted to talk to Chen Jiao alone.

“Recently, even some of my brothers-in-law have started to complain. My elder sister pretended to be deaf and dumb and said that brother-in-law was seriously ill, and did not want to leave. I wanted to send an imperial physician, but she was hesitant…”

Chen Jiao’s own brother, the Marquess of Longlu, was very reluctant to go to his fief. Of all the relatives, only the elder sister was mentioned, indicating that Liu Che had been particularly dissatisfied with the Princess of Pingyang recently.

She refused to join Liu Che in worsening the princess’ bad reputation and instead said anxiously, “From what you said upon your return, almost no one had a good word to say about these three new measures. If forced upon them, will the people below rise up?”

Liu Che groaned subduedly, evidently having addressed her hidden concern.

After a moment of silence, he said in a deep voice, “It’s not that bad. After the Seven Kingdoms Rebellion, today’s marquessates are much smaller. The larger ones all belong to my brothers. They won’t oppose me.”

Although the late emperor’s sons each had their own faults, they seemed to have a good relationship. For example, during the Seven Kingdoms Rebellion, the late Prince of Liang, Liu Wu, was very righteous and opposed the Prince of Wu, which greatly eased the situation in Chang’an.

Chen Jiao agreed and murmured absentmindedly, “After all, you are the emperor. If you’re serious, the people down below won’t be able to resist you. However, many female relatives have complained to grandmother recently. I think if the situation continues like this, even the men will complain.”

Liu Che’s voice suddenly seethed with fierce intensity as he declared, “They only know how to oppose me!”

He paused, voice sharp with conviction, “Have these marquesses forgotten the matter of the Marquess of Jiang? No matter their past achievements, when the order is given, they must depart for their fiefs without hesitation. To refuse now is futile; sooner or later, they will be appointed as prime ministers of their own domains—and still, they must obey.”

When the emperor is resolute, resistance becomes nearly impossible. With the prime minister and censor aligned in purpose, he possesses multiple avenues to achieve his goal—whether direct or indirect.

If one path fails, he can employ stratagems, divide and conquer, and navigate around obstacles to restore stability. His capacity to swiftly devise solutions to any challenge is formidable.

Nonetheless, the suggestion to elevate the position of prime minister was, indeed, a strategic move tinged with a touch of cunning ingenuity.

Chen Jiao seldom found herself truly pleased with him.

She chuckled softly for an extended moment before gently reminding him, “Grandmother’s willingness to meet these individuals is a gesture of goodwill…”

After all, if the grand empress dowager truly wished to avoid them, she could simply claim illness. Yet, her intentions remained shrouded in ambiguity. Despite having seen everyone and heard all that transpired, she still chose silence over speech.

Even Chen Jiao, with her keen intellect, acknowledged that she harbored blind spots.

Liu Che’s gentle heart warmed her, as he subtly piqued her curiosity, “Would you like to know the true intentions of grandmother?”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, “Just say it or don’t—there’s no need to tease.”

Eventually, she couldn’t resist and softly implored, “Tell me, A’ Che, all you do is tease me.”

Her voice carried a rare softness, betraying a hint of reluctance.

Liu Che, naturally amused, responded with a tone free of his usual teasing, his voice tinged with genuine anticipation. Chen Jiao could sense the sincerity behind his words and the quiet expectation he held.

Together, they waited in anticipation for him to reveal the truth and provide the clarity she longed for.

Although she had personally witnessed the performance, she still struggled to fully grasp the inner thoughts of the two protagonists, particularly Liu Che himself.

At that time, their relationship had already become distant, raising questions about his current behavior—how could he now be so familiar, engaging in playful tricks and confiding his troubles to her?

Liu Che, meanwhile, felt a surge of happiness. Despite Chen Jiao’s gentle and obedient nature, her remarkable intelligence was a subtle source of regret, as she rarely sought his guidance or asked questions.

Despite his intelligence, he subtly resorted to blackmail against Chen Jiao, encouraging her into increasingly intimate acts—some of which she hesitated to accept. He gently tousled her damp, floral-scented hair, tangling it around both of them, allowing it to brush against Liu Che’s chest and encircle his neck.

A contented sigh escaped him as he looked down at Chen Jiao beneath him. With a touch of pity, he tenderly brushed aside a playful strand of her hair, still trembling, her eyes closed in a delicate vulnerability.

“The marquesses, the emperor’s relatives, and the vassal states—these are the three natural pillars of stability within the Han Dynasty. As long as any one of them endures, no matter how prosperous the nation may be, the court will never be able to muster a truly formidable army capable of safeguarding our lands from the Huns,” he spoke softly.

“Gold and silver, women, and silk can no longer deceive those unruly horsemen. If this neglect persists, one day their steeds will be grazing by the Wei River. Since my grandfather’s era, sages like Jia Yi and Dou Ying have recognized the core of the issue. How could grandmother, having witnessed five dynasties’ rise and fall, remain blind to it? She chooses to turn a blind eye, feigning ignorance. Her meetings with them serve merely as a forum for their grievances—suppressing their voices entirely would only sow chaos and unrest in the end.”

His sincere whisper softly reached Chen Jiao’s ears, illuminating for her a realization she had not previously grasped—that within this initial year of the new policy, an unspoken understanding already subtly bound the grandmother and grandson.

Though the grand empress dowager voiced her grievances, she found herself secretly pleased by Liu Che’s decisive efforts to enact reform and to dispel the long-standing stagnation that had persisted since the reigns of Emperor Wen and Emperor Jing, where the four barbarian tribes were neither honored guests nor properly integrated into the system.

A sudden shiver coursed through her, as if a dawning awareness had awakened within her: Liu Che was indeed the Son of Heaven, and also the grand empress dowager’s grandson. Her grandmother was not of the Liu clan and thus lacked the authority to unseat or enthrone the emperor at will. In the years ahead, her influence would be of little consequence—her mediation would scarcely alter the course of events.

Even if Liu Che were to lose Chen Jiao and the grand princess, his life would only face modest hardships. And yet, what did it matter? Could the grand empress dowager truly depose him? After all, they remained bound by blood—grandmother and grandson.

She once believed that this was a profound matter of human relationships, assuming that when such tensions arose, the bond between grandmother and grandson would be nearly entirely broken.

However, viewing the situation from a different perspective, the conflict anticipated next year seemed less like a mutual tearing apart and more like the grandmother stepping forward to mend her little grandson’s mess, perhaps even giving him a gentle pat on the bottom.

Had Liu Che not been present, she might have leapt up, stamping her feet in frustration.

Yet, despite this, she couldn’t help but inwardly scold the voice within her, “With such a mind, where have your eyes gone? Can’t you see the situation clearly? No wonder you—”

The rest of her thoughts were swallowed, but it already gave her a headache. The voice sounded furious, not only snorting repeatedly but also stirring turbulent waves in her mind, making her unable to bear the sensation.

She let out a groan, which startled Liu Che into asking softly, “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you just now?”

As he spoke, Chen Jiao felt his hand gently touch her shoulder, brush through her hair, and finally rest on her forehead, checking her temperature.

His palm was so gentle and warm that it seemed to momentarily dispel her pain the instant it touched Chen Jiao’s brow, causing her screams and cries to cease abruptly.

For a fleeting moment, she even felt a twinge of sympathy for it. Despite the shifting tides of the world, Liu Che remained her Liu Che—an indelible presence she could never truly release.

Yet, amidst her feelings, a cautious part of her hesitated; she would rather face death than succumb to that hollow voice. She could endure loneliness and desolation, but the thought of becoming a failure etched into her bones, of tasting defeat for a lifetime, was unbearable.

Nevertheless, she found herself instinctively leaning toward Liu Che’s hand, eager to absorb the warmth he offered—a warmth that, in this moment, felt like salvation.

Perhaps she had been frozen for too long, and even a flicker of tenderness was something she was unwilling to relinquish.

In the fleeting moment of an instant, the first month of the second year since Liu Che’s ascension arrived.

Tian Fen journeyed to the Jiaofang Hall to extend his New Year’s greetings to Chen Jiao, expressing gratitude for her discreet and steadfast care.

Despite the palace’s distinctive hierarchy, she gracefully refrained from accepting Tian Fen’s salute. She rose to avoid it and arranged for a seat of honor to be prepared for him.

In a gesture of humility, she herself bowed to him, “Uncle, your politeness is too much. There is a natural distinction between the elderly and the younger. How can I accept such a salute?”

Yet, Tian Fen received it with effortless ease, his eyes narrowing into a smile, “Your Majesty truly exemplifies wisdom.”

Even before ascending to the position of prime minister, his demeanor had already carried an air of arrogance. No wonder that, after assuming his office, he clashed fiercely with Liu Che, ultimately meeting a mysterious and tragic end.

Chen Jiao regarded him with the gentle patience reserved for a young boy.

Her eyes curved into a warm smile as she kindly remarked, “Uncle is far too gracious! Jiaojiao cannot accept such kindness.”

She then knelt gracefully, allowing Chu Fu to serve the wine infused with cypress leaves. Together, they shared a cup, a gesture symbolizing both the celebration of the New Year and the observance of proper etiquette.

Noticing that he still hesitated to depart, Chen Jiao subtly reminded him, “A’ Che is still in the Xuanshi Hall, and uncle must await him—”

Tian Fen quickly shook his head in refusal.

The middle-aged man, who bore a resemblance to Liu Che and exuded vitality, paused thoughtfully before finally saying, “There is something I wish to inquire, Your Majesty.”

After uttering these words, he fell silent once more, refraining from further speech.

Realizing the need for privacy, Chen Jiao gently requested those around her to step back further.

As the palace maids withdrew to the gates, Tian Fen, on his knees and speaking in a hushed whisper, drew near the empress, “The grand empress dowager now places her utmost trust in the grand princess, with Your Majesty herself close behind. Aside from Your Majesty and the grand princess, few others can serve the grand empress dowager tirelessly day and night. Surely, then, no one understands better than Your Majesty whether the grand empress dowager’s health remains secure.”

Chen Jiao’s mind suddenly reverberated with a faint, ringing clarity—without his subtle reminder, she understood that this question marked the opening of a new chapter in the intricate political struggles under Liu Che’s reign.

This moment signaled the beginning of a series of grand, far-reaching power plays. Neither Tian Fen nor Liu Che, who deliberately avoided the Changshou Hall, realized they had already stepped into the shadows of a contest in which they were unlikely to emerge victorious.

For a moment, she found Liu Che’s remorse amusing. He wanted to know, he could have come and asked her directly. Since she had promised to support him, she would naturally be ashamed to go back on her promise.

But after a quick glance at Tian Fen, she understood: talking about her grandmother’s health with her husband was normal, but talking about it with her uncle-in-law, the pioneer of the reform movement, was something completely different.

Since that day when she had reprimanded it, the voice had fallen silent, but now, at this moment, it had finally returned.

“You say I can’t even see the situation, I can’t even see this game,” it said in a sad and unsteady tone, only a shadow of her arrogance remaining. “You’re right, I can’t even see the situation clearly. I’m in the game, I can’t help myself. If I make one mistake, every step after that will be wrong. In the past, I could point out my mistakes so you could avoid them, but from now on, the more your path diverges from mine, the fewer places I can point you to. Do you think you’re capable of taking every step perfectly?”

Confronted with this cold and dismissive inquiry, Chen Jiao was momentarily at a loss for words. Yet, that pause was fleeting.

Soon, she offered a gentle smile. Though her expression was not aimed at Liu Che, it retained its usual coolness, tinged with a subtle sharpness that subtly pierced the air.

The tiny barb in her smile seemed to strike Tian Fen’s eyes, almost rendering him unable to meet her gaze directly.

With composed grace, she replied, “I am unable to answer uncle’s question precisely. My grandmother remains in good health; among women of her age, few are as steady and vigorous as she. Nonetheless, she is already in her sixties, and it would be dishonest to deny that I worry about her well-being.”

Tian Fen’s expression softened, a trace of joy flickering across his face.

No matter how robust one may appear, the passage of time leaves its mark. The grand empress dowager, at sixty-five, has already surpassed many in longevity—a rare feat. Even with her appetite and sleep remaining sound, it is natural that her mind is slower and her energy less vigorous, as the years inevitably take their toll.

He lifted his gaze and offered Chen Jiao a gracious smile, “Jiaojiao, this matter should remain hidden from the Marquess of Wei Qi’s knowledge.”

He truly regarded himself as an elder simply because she addressed her as uncle. When had it become his place to interfere in her affairs?

Chen Jiao responded with a patient smile, lowering her head to acknowledge, “Uncle’s guidance is well taken; Jiaojiao understands.”

Satisfied, Tian Fen then departed from the Jiaofang Hall.

By the end of the first month, the court’s conflicts had resurfaced anew.

This time, even the Marquess of Pingyang could no longer remain silent; he personally entered the palace to seek an audience with the grand empress dowager. Perhaps because of this, the grand empress dowager summoned Liu Che for the first time.

The two engaged in a lengthy discussion, yet it appeared they failed to reach any resolution.

While it remains uncertain whether this encounter was the catalyst, it was evident that one or two months later, Zhao Wan and Wang Zang submitted memorials demanding the West Palace relinquish power back to the emperor, citing Liu Che’s coming of age and his formal coronation.

Upon its delivery to the East Palace, the memorial was promptly presented to the grand empress dowager, who, upon reading its contents, was so overcome with concern that she shattered the jade disk she was holding in her hand.

…

A/N

Historically, the Han Dynasty’s imperial residences consisted of Weiyang Palace in the west and Changle Palace in the east.

T/N

I’m so embarrassed. I just realised I used the British spelling of noble titles. I hope it doesn’t feel out of place. Many thanks!