Leaving the Changmen Palace - LTCP 25: Coup

Upon hearing of the old woman’s anger, the grand princess was observing the imperial physician as he carefully took Chen Jiao’s pulse.

Traditionally, within the palace, women favored by the emperor but lacking titles of concubines or status as madams were often allotted quarters in Yongxiang Hall. When such women experienced delayed menstruation or desired to indulge in sour and spicy delicacies, imperial physicians would be summoned to assess their health through pulse diagnosis.

Following her recent reorganization of Yongxiang Hall, Chen Jiao instituted a prudent regulation: all the palace’s maiden residents were to record the timing of their menstrual cycles. This measure ensured that any irregularities could be promptly addressed by arranging for the imperial physician’s inspection, thereby preventing palace servants from wandering about and inadvertently harming the delicate fetus of the imperial offspring.

This passage exemplifies her application of her personal methodology over a broader scope: since her first menstruation at thirteen, she diligently recorded the dates of her monthly cycles.

In those early years, her periods were irregular, with intervals often extended beyond the norm. However, following her marriage—perhaps due to an increased harmony of yin and yang—her menstrual cycle gradually became more precise, transforming into a “day of trust.”

Chen Jiao believed her body was well-nourished and in harmony, yet the grand princess grew increasingly anxious.

When she visited the palace last time, her period arrived as expected this month. At last, unable to contain her concern, she made another journey to the palace—this time accompanied by an elderly man with flowing white hair and a long beard.

The grand princess introduced her to what she confidently described as the finest physician in the Baling region, her expression filled with eager hope, subtly conveying a sense of expectation.

Naturally, this cast a gentle pressure on Chen Jiao.

“Many families who long for children have come to him seeking remedies,” the grand princess added.

Perhaps aware of the daunting challenges that childbirth could bring, Chen Jiao’s initial enthusiasm for seeking treatment waned entirely.

These physicians employed numerous methods and charged exorbitant prices, clearly capitalizing on the desperation of women yearning for children. Yet, it was disheartening to see so many naive individuals convinced that simply placing a handful of coarse medicine beneath their pillows could summon the divine aid needed to conceive.

Furthermore, Liu Che had engaged in intimate relations with more than a dozen women over the past two or three years. She had never sought to restrain his passions, nor would she deliberately interfere with the palace servants who carried news.

Yet, during this period, only Yin Ji remained, and her pregnancy was shrouded in suspicion.

Occasionally, she could not help but wonder—if her land was barren and incapable of yielding crops, perhaps Liu Che’s seed was not entirely without flaw.

Still, such thoughts she could only voice in her innermost mind.

Even if she wished to reassure the grand princess, her only vague excuse was, “This is all fate; when the time comes, it will happen naturally.”

She found this explanation feeble and insufficient, and naturally, she knew she could not persuade the grand princess with such words.

Noticing her indifference toward the esteemed physician, and even the reluctance evident in her subtle gesture of extending her elbow, the grand princess’ expression gradually grew less pleased.

After the physician had finished taking her pulse, prescribed a few remedies, and was preparing to examine the palace’s feng shui and perform geomantic divination, Chen Jiao interjected calmly, “The palace’s layout follows established traditions that have been passed down through generations. It is inherently upright and harmonious, and thus cannot be at odds with feng shui. The doctor has indeed labored diligently. Chu Fu, give him a reward of two thousand coins and allow him to depart.”

Such a modest sum—merely two thousand coins—would pale in comparison to the generous tips the grand princess often bestows upon pearl merchants when she is pleased.

The grand princess’ face grew even more hideous.

She swallowed the words she had at the tip of her tongue and glared at Chu Fu. The head servant was thoughtful and seized the opportunity to have the physician leave and the servants dismissed.

When they reached the entrance to the hall, the old man seemed a little shaken, but at the same time, he also seemed determined to prove his abilities.

He looked around and loudly said to Chen Jiao, “The Jiaofang Hall was built decades ago, and many arrangements were made by the ancestors. I fear that the descendants will never understand the profound meaning behind these. For example, when the empress speaks in the hall, the furnishings within should be stately and her voice should not sound hollow. If this old man would take a good look at the items within the hall…”

Before he could finish speaking, the expressions of both Chen Jiao and the Grand Princess changed dramatically.

Chen Jiao shouted decisively, “How could a commoner say such a stupid thing? Drag him outside and give him ten lashes!”

The grand princess sat upright, her presence commanding and composed.

As Chu Fu ushered two formidable palace servants to escort the aging man who had brought calamity upon himself beyond the palace gates, the grand princess spoke with measured authority, “You possess talent, yet lack foresight. How can you speak so lightly? Ten strokes of the cane are far too lenient. In my judgment, you should be subjected to an additional two hundred.”

At that time, it was well known that the noble residences were connected by hidden passages.

Chen Jiao, having grown up within the Marquess of Tangyi’s estate from childhood, was no stranger to the world’s subtleties. How could she remain unaware that the reverberation of such words hinted at a secret passage within the Jiaofang Hall?

Having resided there for three years, if she still failed to decipher the palace’s mysteries, what purpose did her position as empress serve? She might as well be confined within Changmen Palace, her fate sealed in imprisonment.

Showing off like this, this physician is simply courting death.

Although the imperial family can instantly grant him unexpected wealth, wealth is not so easy to come by.

Her mouth twitched, and she said helplessly, “Forget it, everyone knows about this. Ten boards is just a small punishment and a big warning. When he gets out, don’t talk nonsense. Even if he talks nonsense, it’s no big deal.”

The grand princess said angrily, “You are still the same as before, always too soft in dealing with people, without any edge. How can the people below obey you? When something happens behind your back and you know nothing, you will definitely regret your tolerance today!”

Ultimately, it was the inadequacy of those the grand princess had brought along to handle the affairs that led to her loss of face, prompting her to act as she did.

Chen Jiao’s thoughts were stirred, and she contemplated the matter carefully, just as Chu Fu re-entered the inner hall.

Though she understood that the mother and daughter might have private matters to discuss, her unexpected entrance—unannounced and accompanied by a eunuch—was striking.

Chun Tuo appeared to have hurried here with urgency; his face was a pallid yellow, and he carried the unmistakable scent of exertion and sweat, which drew frowns from the two noblewomen.

The grand princess was on the verge of expressing her displeasure, but Chen Jiao’s calm gaze forestalled her, her expression composed as if nothing could ruffle her serenity.

She regarded Chun Tuo with quiet authority, as though no words or actions could disturb the unwavering poise she maintained in that moment.

She gently advised, “Chun Tuo, speak at a measured pace; there is no need to rush.”

Yet, Chun Tuo was visibly overwhelmed with anxiety, his breath ragged as he recounted the events within Changle Palace, “The grand empress dowager was incensed,” he explained breathlessly, “and she had already dispatched envoys to summon Marquess of Wei Qi and Marquess of Wu An to the palace for consultation. His Majesty instructed Your Majesty to proceed in accordance with the circumstances and to travel to Changshou Hall to soothe the grand empress dowager’s wrath.”

Before he could finish, the grand princess could no longer remain still. She rose swiftly, her agitation palpable, and began pacing anxiously across the hall, consumed by her unrest.

Of course, this new policy in the first year of Liu Che’s reign did not affect the grand princess’ family. She was not Princess of Pingyang, she was not expected to be a model for the nation. Therefore, she always sat on the mountain watching the tigers fight, and was more relaxed than Chen Jiao.

However, as the stars rotated and the world changed, Chen Jiao, with her grandmother on one side and her husband on the other, was like the filling of a bun. Whoever grabbed her, grabbed her.

Naturally, the grand princess felt the same way, and it was inevitable that she would fall into chaos.

Chen Jiao was as calm as still water.

After a moment of silence, she asked, “What about His Majesty himself?”

Chun Tuo wiped the sweat from his brow, “His Majesty is presently in the Qingliang Hall, engaged in discussions with the gentlemen of the Imperial Secretariat and the Imperial Guard.”

In other words, he was conferring with his trusted allies and close confidants about strategic measures.

She found herself utterly perplexed. If one chooses not to act, then refrain entirely; if one intends to proceed, see it through to the end.

Had she been Liu Che, she would never have devised such a flawed plan from the outset. No one—not even Empress Dowager Wang—would believe that Zhao Wan and Wang Zang had submitted their memorials without the emperor’s explicit approval.

If that were the case, he should have committed fully, employing every means at his disposal to seize power. Instead, he was caught in a limbo—unable to overthrow his grandmother, yet unwilling to submit and admit defeat.

His stubborn resistance persisted, leaving everyone to wonder: what was truly driving this relentless struggle?

Conversely, there was an unsettling aspect to it: Liu Che, merely seventeen years old, was already capable of such clandestine deeds. Had he maintained his composure, he might have truly achieved great success in his inaugural year as ruler.

Unlike him, Chen Jiao had the privilege of being mentored from a young age, gaining insight into the unfolding future. She could converse with another individual at any moment—someone intimately acquainted with the affairs of the Liu Che dynasty, who understood the ambitions and concealed talents of many.

But what did Liu Che possess? Only himself.

Reflecting on this, Chen Jiao recognized that he was undeniably capable; he simply lacked a little more to reach his full potential.

She then instructed Chun Tuo with measured composure, “Convey to His Majesty that losing once is not the end of the world; what truly matters is to lose with grace and dignity.”

Whether he heeded this advice remains uncertain.

After Chun Tuo returned, no further news arrived from Qingliang Hall.

The grand princess, restless and concerned, repeatedly sought permission to visit her mother in Changshou Hall, but Chen Jiao gently restrained her, refusing to allow her to leave.

Instead, she arranged for her safety to be assured by sending a messenger to the Marquess of Tangyi’s residence, confirming her well-being, and had her rest peacefully in the side hall of the Jiaofang Hall.

During the following days, Chen Jiao received no word from Liu Che, and Sang Hongyang was conspicuously absent.

In times of uncertainty like these, some would naturally withdraw from the emperor’s vicinity, while others, driven by ambition and opportunity, would seek to draw closer, waiting patiently for their moment to act.

Chu Fu’s voice was filled with sternness as she declared, “It would be more fitting to promote a dog than to promote him.”

When people seek your support, their aim is often to elevate themselves to the emperor’s favor, is it not? Now that a rare opportunity presents itself before them, who would still turn their attention to you?

Moreover, given the considerable upheaval this situation has caused, it is natural that he cannot come over at this time. Does Chen Jiao have any legitimate grounds to blame him?

Nevertheless, the Jiaofang Hall was not solely reliant on Sang Hongyang. Even in his absence, messages from the front court continued to reach Chen Jiao and the grand princess, ensuring their awareness of what transpired.

On the morning of the fourth day following the grand empress dowager’s wrath, Zhao Wan and Wang Zang were swiftly detained on charges of corruption. The imperial edict originated from Changshou Hall; however, it bore no seal from Xuanshi Hall.

Despite this, the Ministry of Justice dared not overlook its significance and had already commenced an investigation into the alleged misconduct of the two esteemed scholars.

The motives behind this action appear straightforward: the prime minister and the grand marshal have remained confined within the palace since their detention four days prior, under the grand empress dowager’s custody.

As the commotion within Qingliang Hall gradually subsided, Liu Che dismissed his attendants, leaving only Han Yan and Kong Anguo—trusted confidants—by his side. The doors of Qingliang Hall were firmly closed, and once again, he refused to receive any visitors.

Since her elevation to the esteemed position of empress dowager, Empress Dowager Wang made her inaugural visit to Weiyang Palace, proceeding directly to Jiaofang Hall to converse with Chen Jiao.

“What are you hesitating for?” she questioned, her voice tinged with rare impatience, sharpness, and disapproval after years of being mother and daughter-in-law. “Are you still lingering?”

Even the grand princess sensed her cheeks flush with embarrassment, yet Chen Jiao maintained her graceful smile, undeterred by the occasion.

Her lips bore a serene, almost etched expression—not merely a smile, but a reflection of her composed demeanor.

Chen Jiao addressed her with measured calmness, “Why should I venture to Changshou Hall at this moment? Should I humbly beseech grandmother to show mercy and spare A’ Che , or instead, gently appeal to her sense of kinship, urging her to recognize the bond between her and her grandson—and willingly relinquish her hold?”

Since Liu Che had yet to surrender, how could she overreach her authority and speak for him, appealing to the grand empress dowager for leniency? As long as the conflict persisted, human sentiments held no sway.

To invoke personal relationships to persuade the grand empress dowager to relinquish and admit defeat was akin to pleading with the late emperor to pardon the deposed crown prince Liu Rong.

Delving into such sentiments at this juncture would only diminish her dignity and reduce her to mockery—this is the world of the imperial family.