Leaving the Changmen Palace - LTCP 28: Sharing the Favor

The initial year’s policies had successfully brought tranquility, silencing much of the previous unrest.

As a result, many of the leaders, either overwhelmed by their failures or facing dire consequences, chose to end their lives or were dismissed from their posts.

Liu Che, however, gradually reverted to a state of neglect, ceasing to involve himself deeply in court affairs. The true reins of power had long been entrusted to the prime minister and the grand empress dowager in the Changshou Hall.

His involvement was minimal—merely glancing over the proceedings and affixing his seal, an act that signified the completion of his daily duties.

With limited hours in each day, his focus was elsewhere. Last year, he undertook reforms aimed at maintaining peace within the palace, adding over a dozen new servants to the harem, yet he never cultivated a single favored concubine.

His affections were fleeting; he would occasionally take a liking to someone, summon them into his presence, and indulge in their company for a night, rarely exceeding three nights, before promptly forgetting them.

With the his thoughts shifting from the affairs of state to pursuits of pleasure, Chen Jiao observed that Weiyang Palace suddenly blossomed with renewed vitality.

Liu Che, steadfast in his resolve, refused to succumb to merely wine and women, instead channeling his energy into pursuits such as hunting and wandering. The attendants, whose talents lay solely in companionship and entertainment, gradually lost their favor during the first year of Jianyuan.

As circumstances changed in the nation, they began to appear more frequently in the Qingliang Hall. Had Chen Jiao remained confined within the Jiaofang Hall day after day, it might have mattered little to her. Yet recently, Liu Che’s attachment to her had deepened, and he kept her close by his side throughout the day.

If it weren’t for his occasional desire for novelty and a fleeting glance at the beautiful palace servants, she might have suspected that he longed to be with her every minute of every hour, an intimacy he seemed eager to maintain.

If she had not suggested that all favored palace servants be sent to Yongxiang Hall for custody, the palace would not have been able to establish the concept of avoiding suspicion for a while.

You know, outside the city of Chang’an at this time, every mid-spring in March, there are still many ordinary men and women who get together freely in the wild and enjoy themselves.

Chen Jiao followed him and made the acquaintance of several young men. Of course, no one in the palace or outside would gossip about her.

Only the Princess of Pingyang said sourly, “She is harsh to people, and now she doesn’t even let Qingliang Hall go. When A’ Che goes to court, she can’t wait to follow him.”

Empress Dowager Wang saw it more clearly than her daughter, “Is she following A’ Che? It’s more like A’ Che is following her. You should restrain yourself, your brother is still angry.”

Princess of Pingyang drew a disdainful snort, her tone tinged with frustration, and declared, “Is it not all because of her that A’ Che and I have become estranged?”

Although Liu Che harbored some resentment towards the Princess of Pingyang for disrupting his grand plans, he could not forget that she was still his kin. With the empress dowager, his mother, acting as mediator, he maintained a composed exterior; despite his displeasure upon seeing the princess, his demeanor remained courteous toward the Marquess of Pingyang and his young nephew, as he had always been.

Even if the empress dowager held a poor opinion of Chen Jiao, she could not deny that Chen Jiao had never spoken ill of Liu Che’s family in his presence. To this day, as he relied on her to curry favor with the grand empress dowager, Chen Jiao continued to show him unwavering respect.

The empress dowager, despite being very close with her elder daughter, could not accept her words. She glared at the Princess of Pingyang and, although there was much she wanted to say, gave up. She had grown up like this, and there was nothing she could say.

“There is no benefit in going against your brother’s wife. A’ Che and she are deeply in love. Any attempt to cause a rift between them would be nothing but disgrace.” She then scolded her again, “Stop sending more beautiful women. The palace is not short of people, and if Chen Jiao sees a beautiful servant, she will promote her to serve by her side. Now is the time to try to please her, not oppose her. If she utters even one word, A’ Che will surely distance himself from you.”

Although Liu Che endeavored to conceal the fact that Chen Jiao had, for the first time, lost her composure over the twin girls sent by the Princess of Pingyang—an incident she had never spoken of openly—the truth, in the end, could not be hidden.

Princess of Pingyang was not gone, and she undoubtedly sensed Chen Jiao’s coldness. Yet, her heart was not untouched by regret; her words were entirely reasonable, and she found herself unable to gain the upper hand.

She already bore the weight of her own mistakes, often unaware of her own faults. Had she not known her character well, she might have believed that the entire Chen family was composed of upright and honest individuals, ever considerate of the greater good. But even with that understanding, she could find no flaw in their swift response. Regardless of her true motives, she did her best in the moment.

Despite her initial reluctance, she was ultimately compelled to nod and reassure, “Rest assured, I won’t cause any trouble for you in her presence.”

The empress dowager, releasing the lingering traces of her own resistance, offered a silent, gracious smile, conveying understanding and composure without a word.

…

Princess of Pingyang was also a woman of her word.

The next day, she held a banquet and said to Liu Che, “It’s been a long time since you’ve been to sister’s house. I’ve found two excellent cooks. The plum trees in the house are also blooming beautifully. It’s cold in winter, and there’s nothing to catch in Shanglin Garden. What are you doing running away to the countryside? Bring A’ Jiao and we’ll play!”

She had always been proud and arrogant, and rarely spoke so softly.

Seeing her speak so humbly, Liu Che softened and thought of the times when he had quarreled with his brothers as a child and the princess had stood up for him.

“Jiaojiao hasn’t been feeling well these days!” he said. “I’ll go back and ask her. If she comes, I’ll tell elder sister.”

Life’s course is inherently unpredictable. Many individuals experience growth amid minor discomforts, yet some depart from this world the very next day.

Princess of Pingyang was initially taken aback, then a subtle sense of relief dawned within her. After reflection, she realized that Liu Che’s words were a delicate way of implying that the decision to forgive—or not—hinged upon Chen Jiao’s wishes.

The emperor, the most exalted figure in the nation—what could be more noble than he? Yet, he was so readily influenced and guided by Chen Jiao that she effectively dictated his actions. Now, he had to rely on her to speak on his behalf in front of the elder woman, making it certain he would not oppose her in any manner.

Princess of Pingyang, overwhelmed with frustration, found herself too exhausted to harbor anger.

She sighed softly and resignedly declared, “Very well, let us see what Jiaojiao desires.”

Liu Che’s brow creased slightly, yet he offered no protest, only a gentle, reassuring smile.

Returning to Chen Jiao’s Palace, he complained to her, “You said you were feeling unwell, but I thought it was just an excuse!”

Chen Jiao did feel a little unwell, and leaned against the screen to let the old imperial physician take her pulse. The old man concentrated and calmed his breathing, but when Liu Che entered, the strength in his hand suddenly weakened a little.

She frowned slightly and shushed him, and the emperor immediately did not dare to say anything.

He was forced to sit next to her, and with great interest, he asked quietly, “Good news?”

This year marks his eighteenth birthday, and over the past three years, he has been accompanied by countless women. Yet, not a single piece of truly good news has come his way. The only positive development remains shrouded in doubt.

Though he appears unhurried, his thoughts subtly betray his inner turmoil. Just like now, the profound frustration and anger within him are concealed behind a composed exterior. It seems he was born without grand ambitions; his sole desire is to wander freely around Zhangtai.

Only his peculiar attachment to himself hints at a deeper confusion and unease. It appears Chen Jiao stands as the anchor of his dreams—he must carry her everywhere, lest he glimpse her and shatter the illusion.

All his aspirations seem to bloom only within the realm of his dreams, vanishing the moment he turns his gaze.

Chen Jiao, in her quiet resignation, exhales a gentle sigh. This sigh is rare in its harmony with the voice—like two breaths released by the same person, sharing a common mood. Amidst the pervasive melancholy and resentment, there lingers a faint undercurrent of indignation.

She didn’t want to believe that she was really infertile.

In her life, she had witnessed her mother giving birth several times, and her grandmother had given birth at least five times, with only two children dying. Not to mention her father, whose relationship with her mother had become increasingly distant over the years, and he had been trying every possible way to give her more half-brothers and half-sisters.

There was nothing wrong with Liu Che’s parents, she just didn’t understand why it was so difficult for her and Liu Che to have children.

“I’m afraid not. It’s just that my menstruation comes late, and I have stomach pain a few days before it comes.”

Even though she was unwilling, she had to interrupt his thoughts. Seeing his expression stagnate slightly, and then cheer up again, she sighed in her heart and said nothing.

After everyone dispersed, she said, “You should go see the elder sister. There is no knot between siblings that cannot be untied. I won’t go. My stomach is uncomfortable, and I don’t know when it will get better. It’s the beginning of next month, and there are still many things to do. You can’t leave either.”

Liu Che gently hummed, tenderly drawing her into his embrace to soothe her, “You are still young; there is no need to rush.”

At fifteen, her youth was undeniable, yet now, at eighteen, three years of marriage had passed without any news. What is the point of her remaining untroubled?

Life is fleeting and unpredictable; many young lives are cut short unexpectedly. Some succumb after eating too many melons, suffering acute abdominal pain the following day.

Without bearing heirs promptly, the urgency weighs heavily—first upon Empress Dowager Wang, then upon Liu Che himself. Even the grand princess tactfully advised her to seek medical aid and treatment, yet Chen Jiao resolutely refused.

Her approach was uniquely steadfast. Throughout the day, her sole wish remained—to bestow blessings upon Liu Che and herself, wishing for their longevity and for the throne to remain secure within their lineage.

She bit her lower lip tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She leaned against Liu Che’s chest and cried quietly and unpretently. Her shoulders trembled, and she collapsed like a flower in the rain. She was so delicate that people suspected she would collapse at any moment.

Liu Che was a little impatient, and even if he harbored resentment, it would surely break his heart.

He hugged Chen Jiao and said gently, “Silly girl, why are you crying? It’s because I was busy last year and didn’t have much time for you.”

She buried her face in his neck and shook her head.

Her voice was hoarse, “A’ Che, I haven’t been in a good mood lately. You should take better care of Jia Ji and the others.”

She lifted her head, her face still glistening with tears, yet a melancholy smile had already graced her lips.

“I am your wife,” she said softly, “and the children of your concubines are no different from my own. What matters most is not that I bear an imperial heir, but that you have a child. If I can be the one to give you that child, it would be best. But if I cannot, would I not still love it just the same?”

What more could Liu Che say? Gently, he drew her into his arms, pressing kisses to her forehead with tender pity.

“Silly Jiaojiao, why do you cry?” he whispered. “Concubines are merely companions; even if they have children, they are as distant as the heavens—fireflies compared to the moon. They are but fleeting amusements, so why do you take it all so deeply to heart?”

For him, the ability to speak these words revealed the depth of his affection for her. Yet, her tears persisted, and though she managed a smile, tears continued to fall.

She did not understand whom she was crying for, nor why her tears came so freely, only that as she looked upon her devoted husband—this handsome emperor—her heart could not stop the flow of sorrow.

“If you hadn’t spoken those words, would I have truly taken them to heart?” The voice murmured with a hint of grumbling, and in that moment, Chen Jiao’s tears dissolved into genuine laughter.

She leaned into his embrace, allowing him to gently wipe away her tears.

“I don’t quite understand why I feel like crying,” she admitted softly, a touch of playful coquettishness in her voice. “Am I still not virtuous enough?”

Liu Che chuckled gently.

“It’s wonderful to embrace a bit of unruliness,” he replied with warmth. “I actually prefer those who aren’t bound by virtue.”

He’s still young and learning how to charm a woman—sometimes, the opposite approach is needed. The more she claims to lack virtue, the more you should praise her virtue.

Chen Jiao frowned and said sourly, “I am not virtuous. I can please you, but I cannot please my mother and sisters. So many people expect me not to be virtuous. I am doing so well, but you still think I am not virtuous enough?”

“You are virtuous enough, virtuous enough, extremely virtuous!” Liu Che was sweating and could not help but change his words.

She could no longer hold back, and her shoulders twitched again, this time with laughter.

That evening, Liu Che chose not to sleep in the Jiaofang Hall but instead summoned Jia Ji to join him in the Yongxiang Hall.

A few days thereafter, he visited the residence of the Marquess of Pingyang, appearing to find the experience quite engaging.

Throughout that entire winter, he indulged in leisure and pleasure within the mansions and villas of his three brothers-in-law, as well as his aunt, uncle, and other relatives.

The voice was filled with concern and agitation as it confided in Chen Jiao, “You! You shouldn’t have allowed him to go! Even if he wished to venture out, you should have accompanied him! You knew the consequences, yet you still made a mistake! Truly, you have erred once more!”

In response, Chen Jiao remained composed, offering only a gentle smile without uttering a word.