Leaving the Changmen Palace - LTCP 26: Enter the Hall

On the morning of the third day following the imprisonment of Zhao Wan and Wang Zang, Chen Jiao awoke to the steady gaze of Liu Che.

Each time she opened her eyes, a moment of disorientation would wash over her—uncertain whether she was in the luminous red halls of Jiaofang Hall or lost within the fading memories of Changmen Palace.

Yet, today, she seemed to awaken with remarkable clarity.

Turning her head, she recognized herself within Liu Che’s unwavering gaze.

Such moments were not unfamiliar; indeed, his love for her had always been profound. As his first wife, she held a special place in his heart.

Many mornings after their union, he would stir before her, propping his head on his hand and gently caressing her chin with his fingers.

Sometimes, he would softly recite poetry, teasing her with tender words—memories that lingered like whispers of a bygone era, etched into the fabric of their shared history.

When Chen Jiao unwittingly brought it to its attention, it responded with a touch of bitterness, admitting, “He’s never treated me this way before.”

Whether such feelings had never existed or had been long buried by time, it was impossible to determine.

Sometimes, she could not help but let out a sigh. After so many years, and after the passing of Liu Che, her love endured. Despite her feelings of resentment, her love remained steadfast. Yet, the more she loved him, the more elusive his affection became.

Conversely, she had always maintained a sense of clarity, carefully holding onto his favor with firm resolve. But this clarity was merely a delicate line; if she merely acted when in his presence, eventually, her true self would reveal a flaw.

Chen Jiao allowed a look of confusion to remain on her face, steadying her mind within her heart. As the fog of sleepiness lifted, memories long suppressed gradually resurfaced, one after another, causing her gaze on him to deepen with insight.

Liu Che had prepared himself meticulously, even shaving the beard he had been cultivating for some time. Unless one looked closely at the dark circles under his eyes and the redness in his eyes—unmistakable signs he could not conceal—he appeared as ever, handsome and youthful.

His composed demeanor carried a subtle hint of newfound opportunity. Yet, Chen Jiao was intimately familiar with him, intimately acquainted with the lessons she had studied her entire life.

She could detect the slightest deviation in the corners of his eyes and brows, perceiving the faint flicker of panic behind his composed exterior.

To her, Liu Che resembled a favored concubine who had just fallen from grace, or perhaps Lady Qi standing loyally beside Emperor Gaozu. When the Four Elders of Mount Shang stepped forward to speak for the crown prince, she might not have even had time to succumb to despair; instead, her mind was already racing, contemplating how to turn the tide in her favor.

Many circumstances in life lie beyond the reach of human intervention—some are dictated by fate, while others stem from a lack of skill or self-awareness on the part of those involved.

At this moment, Liu Che did not seek a wife who would merely admire him; he sought solace and reassurance.

While figures like Han Yan, Kong Anguo, Zhao Wan, and Wang Zang could offer counsel, their strength and influence derived solely from his own authority. It was he who provided them support and comfort.

Yet, the two ministers capable of truly standing by him in myriad ways were now confined within the East Palace, their fates uncertain, their lives hanging in the balance.

Their actions had already demonstrated that Liu Che’s standing before the grand empress dowager was but a hollow facade—nothing more than a distant, fading joke.

Chen Jiao gently sat upright, silently unfolding her arms in a gesture of quiet invitation, her gaze resting softly upon him. Her expression bore no trace of profundity, merely a hint of weariness, yet her hands remained steady and unwavering.

Liu Che hesitated repeatedly, caught in a moment of internal struggle, until finally, amid the tranquil silence of dawn—under the gentle chorus of birdsong emanating from outside the Jiaofang Hall—his eyes gradually misted with tears, and a subtle fissure appeared within his composure.

With a hoarse voice, he finally whispered, “Jiaojiao, I—”

Before he could finish, he had already launched himself into her embrace, his face pressed against her neck, clutching her tightly as if clutching a fragile piece of driftwood in a turbulent sea, seeking solace and connection in that tender moment.

Chen Jiao closed her eyes and remained silent for a moment.

Observing that he had not shed any tears, though his shoulders trembled faintly, she gently spoke, “Alright, A’ Che, accept defeat this time—there’s no need to fear the sky falling. After all, the grand empress dowager is your grandmother; surely she cannot bring herself to harm you. Life will continue as it always does.”

To her, the tumultuous palace coup and political upheaval, filled with countless twists and turns, merely amounted to a minor quarrel between grandmother and grandson.

Despite his bewilderment, Liu Che managed a bitter smile, his voice hoarse as he replied, “I’m not afraid for myself, Jiaojiao. It’s the people below I feel sorry for…”

That final phrase carried a weight unlike his usual casual, slightly aloof tone—laden with the weariness of experience and sorrow, each word soaked with genuine pain.

Chen Jiao found herself momentarily speechless, her mind racing for words that might offer comfort or reassurance. Yet, she hesitated, fearing that any words spoken in her current state might only deepen his pain.

After a moment’s reflection, she softly whispered, “It’s all right, A’ Che. This too shall pass. Life stretches far ahead, and such hardships are but fleeting. I am here with you.”

Gently, she inclined him aside, grasped his shoulders with tender resolve, and looked into his eyes with earnest seriousness, “Should I go to Changshou Hall?”

In this delicate moment, her decision to seek aid on his behalf was clear—an act of compassion and conviction. As the ancient saying goes, to plead for mercy is to accept the possibility of defeat.

Liu Che responded with a nearly imperceptible nod, his eyes tinged with tears yet shining with unwavering resolve, “I will go with you.”

Though his defenses may have momentarily faltered, he quickly concealed his apprehension once more, reminiscent of a child clutching Chen Jiao’s hand to prevent her from rising.

With a worried gaze, he inquired softly, “Grandmother… surely she hasn’t completely severed her ties with me, has she?”

Chen Jiao couldn’t help but smile gently, responding with composed reassurance, “How could that be? Grandmother is not a member of the Liu family, so she would not arbitrarily depose or enthrone emperors. Your sisters, our Chen family, and my mother would be the first to oppose such actions.”

Her words, delivered with subtle tact, nonetheless touched him deeply.

A shadow of melancholy flickered across his handsome features—these three recent policies had deeply alienated the princes and marquesses. Now, among the influential and powerful within the capital, his supporters were perhaps few and far between.

His unease deepened, and as Chen Jiao excused herself to visit the restroom, he hesitated, contemplating whether to follow.

It was apparent to her that his nerves still unsettled him. He was caught between the fear of conceding defeat, the dread of acknowledging his mistake, and an even greater trepidation of incurring the wrath of the grand empress rowager.

Frankly, she too sensed his apprehension—worried that in a moment of anger, the grand empress dowager might speak harshly, further straining the delicate relationship between grandmother and grandson.

Though such outbursts might mean little to the venerable lady herself, the repercussions after her passing could cast a shadow over the Dou family, linking their fortunes to the impermanence of her temper.

After completing her preparations, Chen Jiao gently instructed someone to summon the grand princess from the side hall.

With a composed demeanor, she remarked, “Mother has been residing with me in the Jiaofang Hall for several days now, precisely to prevent us from reaching this moment.” Her tone was calm yet purposeful as she added, “Please remain here in the Jiaofang Hall for the time being. If all unfolds as hoped, I will send someone to call you.”

Her words carried subtle significance: though she declined to accompany him to the Changshou Hall, she was not unwilling to advocate for him. She chose to leave her mother within the palace, patiently awaiting the right moment to act.

Liu Che felt betrayed and helpless. The courtiers and ministers around him, who were usually so eloquent and persuasive, were speechless at this moment.

It was Chen Jiao, who, although she claimed that she had nothing to do with palace affairs and that it was enough for her to manage Jiaofang Hall, calmly and leisurely revealed her secret plan at the very moment when he was most at a loss.

Everything was arranged in an orderly manner, and he felt a little relieved. It was as if Chen Jiao was the most eternal and reliable peace in this crazy chaos.

His throat was dry, and he wanted to say something grateful, but he felt that there was no need to be so polite to her.

He resorted to a complex whisper, “Jiaojiao…”

Chen Jiao, as always, dissolved in his gaze, and she asked with a smile, “Hm?”

It was as if he had brought her flowers while she was sitting idly in Jiaofang Hall. It wasn’t bad news, nor was it a mission that couldn’t be missed.

Liu Che’s heart suddenly trembled, and he quickly grabbed her hand and said, slightly choking, “Jiaojiao!”

…

The grand empress dowager, as expected of someone who had fought so many battles, was calmer than Chen Jiao had expected.

When Chen Jiao came to see her, she was still talking to Tian Fen.

Although she didn’t offer serious advice, she didn’t address him harshly either, “You’re a member of the imperial family, how could one member of the imperial family rebel against another? The Great Han Dynasty was established decades ago, so which of these marquesses doesn’t have deep roots and hasn’t married princesses? We members of the imperial family who became marquesses by marriage must remain united. How can you be like them, aiming your spear at your own people first? What’s with exposing the Dou, Wang, and Chen families… You handled this matter too rashly.”

Tian Fen’s forehead was nearly pressed to the ground in deepest reverence.

Though the grand empress dowager could not see it, his unwavering diligence was evident in every motion; he dared not relax for a moment.

Even as Chen Jiao and the grand princess entered together, he barely cast them a glance, his focus solely on the task at hand. It was the grand empress dowager herself who recognized the footsteps of mother and daughter.

With a gentle wave of her hand, she commanded softly, “Go down. Study the works of Laozi and Zhuangzi more thoroughly. I shall test your understanding of the classics.”

The esteemed grand commandant, a pillar among Confucian scholars, did not dare to utter a word of protest. Respectfully, he withdrew from the chamber, fully aware of the importance of her words.

The grand empress dowager waited until he left before she said to the grand princess and Chen Jiao, “Come to me quickly! You haven’t come to see me for so long. Is it because of state affairs? Have you forgotten me?”

The grand princess quickly said, “As you said, it’s a matter of state. We have no right to interfere. The emperor is young and knows what’s going on. For Jiaojiao’s sake, he must wait. Mother, you can understand our difficulties!”

She was simply acting like a spoiled child by talking to her own mother like this. The grand empress dowager couldn’t help but laugh.

She snorted, “I know. If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t be so calm. Jiaojiao, what does the emperor mean by this?”

Chen Jiao said calmly, “A’ Che has already realized his mistake. He will obey whatever grandmother arranges. How could he have any objections?”

The grand empress dowager spoke softly, her tone tinged with gentle conviction, “He is still a child, and thus capable of being taught.”

Without conscious thought, she quoted Confucius—a remark that, given the occasion, carried a certain irony and absurdity.

Chen Jiao nearly chuckled aloud, but was fortunate that the grand empress dowager’s gaze did not fall upon her.

After a moment of reflection, the old lady continued, “Inform him that Zhao Wan and Wang Zang must be executed to quell public unrest. Wang Sun and Tian Fen, being the prime minister and grand commander respectively, are also kin; while they may not hold official positions, they need not be punished severely. As for the others, proceed according to his judgment.”

Her words conveyed a delicate balance—maintaining neutrality and peace, preserving talents for the nation, and employing a strategic act of justice: punishing two individuals to serve as a warning to many.

The grand princess, unfamiliar with asking for mercy or considering the fates of the two elderly men, saw the matter as largely irrelevant. She nodded happily in agreement and subtly signaled her support to Chen Jiao with a wink.

Chen Jiao readily agreed without hesitation, “This time, you must impart a stern lesson to A’ Che; he is also deeply remorseful.”

The grand empress dowager responded with gentle firmness, “What does he have to regret? He hasn’t done anything wrong.” She then added softly, “I am feeling weary and lack the strength to instruct him myself. For now, let it proceed this way—when the imperial edict is dispatched to the Xuanshi Hall later, he simply needs to affix his seal.”

She even declined to see him, just as she had previously refused to meet Dou Ying. Chen Jiao, upon witnessing the subtle signs of the grand empress dowager’s anger and disappointment, understood the depth of her feelings.

Chen Jiao’s eyes briefly met the grand princess’, and upon observing her face flush with embarrassment, she swiftly assessed her circumstances.

With measured resolve, she lowered herself to her knees and moved toward the grand empress dowager.

Her voice was gentle yet earnest as she addressed her, “Grandmother, I have come today to humbly request your mercy—” Noticing the surprise flicker across the grand empress dowager’s expression, she quickly clarified, “It is not for A’ Che—A’ Che brought this upon himself—but for Prime Minister Dou.”

Her words touched the grand empress dowager deeply, stirring a genuine sense of compassion within her.