Because of his poor hearing, his world had always been quiet. He couldn’t hear music, the sound of flowing water or falling leaves, nor the whispers of wind and rain. With one of the six senses missing, his sky was vast and silent, his heart like a tranquil sea. Though born into an imperial family, he possessed a serenity that others lacked, making him all the more dependable.
To speak to him, one had to first catch his attention. The Emperor reached out and touched his elbow, prompting him to immediately set down his teacup and turn around. His clear, piercing eyes seemed capable of seeing straight through a person’s soul.
"Anling Ba Wu was executed at noon..." The Emperor slowly twisted the ring on his finger. Though today was a joyous occasion, discussing such matters was unpleasant. Yet, as the ruler of a nation, his burdens were many—each pressing on his heart, leaving no room for relaxation even in moments of leisure. Not wishing to dampen the Emperor Emeritus’s mood, he lowered his voice and asked, "Has anything unexpected arisen?"
Hongce replied, "Your Majesty need not worry. Even if complications arise, they certainly won’t surface today. This case is now concluded. What happened before should be buried if possible—like the sludge at the bottom of an old pond. If dredged up, all you’ll see is murky water."
The Emperor nodded, sighing. "As stated in The Admonitions of Wei Zheng , 'To rule is extremely difficult. If laws are too harsh, the innocent may suffer; if too lenient, wickedness will not be suppressed.' That is precisely my predicament now. The Emperor Emeritus is advanced in years, and since I’ve taken charge, many matters can no longer trouble him. The realm is at peace, yet it harbors vermin. Outwardly, all appears splendid, but beneath lies nothing but rot."
Hongce said, "This has always been the case since ancient times. Troublesome governance isn’t unique to our era. Though the nation is prosperous and many seek to line their pockets, the rule of law still keeps them from acting too recklessly. Anling Ba Wu’s execution serves as a warning to the officials. Your Majesty need only observe further. When the source is clear, the stream will be clear. With resolute governance, while complete eradication may be impossible, suppressing seventy or eighty percent is achievable."
The Emperor turned slightly, the candlelight casting shadows as his thick brows furrowed. "Cracking down on corruption is an age-old refrain. One or two imperial relatives have been made examples of—but to what end? When banner leaders openly defy authority, if I don’t execute them, how can I justify it to the people?"
Hongce remained composed, pausing briefly before pursing his lips. "A gradual approach may be better. Pulling them out all at once risks tearing flesh from bone. If you rectify with one hand while promoting with the other, the damage won’t be too severe. Heavy responsibilities should not be borne alone—share them with others. Your Majesty’s wisdom shines bright; surely you already have a plan in mind. My presumptuous words are but idle talk—laugh them off if they are unfit."
This brother of his was no ordinary man. Among the young masters raised in the capital, most were experts in frivolities—cockfighting, gambling, and womanizing. But when it came to serious matters, only two or three were truly capable. Now that he had returned from Khalkha, even with his hearing impairment, he remained a pillar of strength to rely on.
After a moment of contemplation, the Emperor added, "The Chahar garrison needs expansion, and military supplies must keep pace. This time, we’ll send someone to equip them with an artillery battalion—a few dozen guns, nothing excessive—just to keep an eye on the Prince of Chahar. Ever since the incident in Khalkha, I’ve been pondering this. Like loose livestock, if you don’t pen them in, they’ll trample the crops. In your opinion, who should we send?"Originally, everyone was discussing candidates to assist in governing Ningguta, and now they have to select someone for Chahar? To Hongce, it made no difference—wherever he went was the same. The court had raised a bunch of Imperial Clan members who claimed expertise in Mongolian affairs, content to eat and drink without a care, but he couldn’t live like that. He had never understood why his late father had sent him to govern Khalkha back then—it seemed there were many details kept from him. Even when his hearing was sharp, he couldn’t uncover the reason. Now that he had fallen ill and no treatment could cure him, he resigned himself to being deaf and no longer sought answers.
He shifted slightly. “I spent over a decade in Mongolia, so I’d adapt quickly there. Your Majesty need not consult others—tomorrow I can pack and set off.”
The Emperor raised a hand to stop him. “No need to rush. With so many officials in court, there’s no need for you to go. Just the other day, Hongxun was clamoring to go to Ningguta. When the news reached Changchun Garden, the Empress Dowager was beside herself with worry. I was thinking of assigning him to Chahar instead, with the infantry commander Gengli accompanying him. What do you think?”
Hongce was perceptive. Since Hongxun was being sent to Chahar, another candidate would have to be considered for Ningguta. He replied, “The northern frontier is also critical. Tens of thousands of armored soldiers and banner troops—if unrest breaks out, it won’t be a minor matter. I await Your Majesty’s command. If dispatched, I can leave immediately.”
The Emperor nodded with a smile. “No hurry on that either. First, send Lu Yuan to handle the aftermath. Have him review the annual personnel records one by one to stabilize morale. The rest can wait.”
While the officials deliberated, the children in the Emperor Emeritus’ arms began squirming. The old man asked what was wrong—the little prince, still in open-crotch pants, suddenly let loose a lively stream right onto the floor. It was a well-aimed performance, not a drop touching the Emperor Emeritus. Children, when they do something clever, are praised to the heavens. Delighted, the Emperor Emeritus rewarded the prince with a small Japanese dagger and, without waiting further, instructed the chief eunuch nearby: “Hongyang isn’t even as reliable as a child! When he arrives, don’t let him into the garden—have him wait at the Hall of Nine Classics and Three Affairs. Look at everyone here—who acts like him? Later, he’ll probably claim his carriage wheel broke again, useless as ever. The whole family waits on him—what grand airs!” With that, he stood and led the crowd out. After a few steps, he turned back to add, “Send someone to reprimand him—harshly. Showing him leniency only encourages his behavior. His Princess Consort is just as useless—two fools paired together, quite the match!”
Though he didn’t seem furious, no one dared intercede. The banquet was set in the Western Garden. As the crowd followed the Emperor Emeritus, the moment they passed the festooned gate, the mingled scents of flowers and perfumes greeted them. The consorts and noblewomen had already gathered, all adorned in lavish silks and jewels, offering chaotic greetings and blessings to the Emperor Emeritus—truly a scene of dazzling splendor.
The elder consorts did not enter the garden, for the Emperor Emeritus and Empress Dowager tolerated no others between them. Not that the Empress Dowager minded—it was the Emperor Emeritus’ decree. When an emperor sets his heart on one, many others suffer neglect. Such was the case in the Emperor Emeritus’ generation, and the same held for the current Emperor’s. The men of the Yuwen family possessed the talent and vision to shoulder the weight of the realm—only in matters of the heart would they never compromise. And so, turmoil within the inner court was inevitable.As a junior, it wasn't a matter of liking or disliking the Empress Dowager. With his own mother neglected elsewhere, some resentment was inevitable. But moving in these social circles, smiles were like carrying a handkerchief or a bracelet—necessary but meaningless.
Drinking, listening to music, chatting to pass the time—it was all fine family enjoyment, but for Hongce, it felt distant. With so many people around, he couldn’t read their lips clearly and had no idea what they were discussing. Unremarkable in the crowd, he preferred not to participate, always quiet. In truth, this wasn’t so bad. Hearing neither the good nor the bad, his mind remained clear, allowing him to see the bigger picture.
Only, he had drunk a bit too much, and the air inside was stifling, so he stepped out alone for some fresh air.
It was the sixteenth day of the month, and the moon hung so large it seemed within reach. Leaning against the dragon-carved pillar under the corridor, he loosened a button at his collar, letting his insides settle. His breath steadied, and he felt refreshed. Squinting into the distance, he saw someone approaching along the path, rubbing their knees—upon closer look, it was his steward, Guan Zhaojing.
At the foot of the steps, Zhaojing tilted his head up and grinned. "The banquet isn’t over yet, why has Your Highness come out? This servant had the carriage changed—it’s spacious inside, with an armrest pillow ready. You can nap a little and be home in no time." He paused, then added, "Speaking of spacious… this evening, word came from Langrun Garden. I was busy attending to Your Highness’s visit and forgot to mention—the Noble Consort has given instructions. She wants a coffin prepared, and she wants it spacious too. You ought to advise her—people in their seventies or eighties might say such things, but their descendants still shouldn’t comply. Making it too early is inauspicious."
Only those tired of living, waiting for the King of Hell to check their name, would prepare their own coffin. The Noble Consort in Langrun Garden—Twelfth Master’s birth mother—wasn’t even fifty yet. Preparing so early was indeed far too hasty.
This was the first Hongce had heard of it, and he couldn’t quite process it. "A coffin?"
"Exactly," Zhaojing said. "Her Highness is thinking ahead. She just wants it prepared, brought out yearly for airing and a fresh coat of lacquer. By the time she’s buried, it’ll have at least twenty or thirty coats—that’s the idea."
To go through all that just for extra layers of lacquer seemed excessive. But the Noble Consort was stubborn—once she set her mind to something, no one could stop her. He was her only son, so if she was unhappy, who else would she vent on but him?
After a moment’s thought, Hongce said, "Tell her the coffin workshops don’t have good wood. I’ll send someone south to buy it. Finding quality timber takes luck—delay it a year or two, and once the fervor passes, she’ll forget."
Zhaojing acknowledged the order, but before he could say more, the Gurun Princess emerged from inside. "Father’s looking for you," she called. "Twelfth Brother, why are you out here?" She took his arm and said, "Father just brought up the imperial selection—seems he’s considering a marriage arrangement. The elder brothers keep outdoing each other with sons, but from Seventh Master onward, the line’s been broken. He even asked, ‘That one—does Twelfth Master have a Secondary Wife yet?’ I’d say by next spring, you’ll have one more in your household."
Marriage was the natural course for a grown man. Hongce had been away in Khalkha and never adopted the Manchu custom of taking a companion at thirteen, so his household remained uncluttered, with only family-born servants coming and going.During the family banquet, the topic inevitably came up. He followed them into the hall, but instead of the Emperor Emeritus bluntly raising the question—the old man had gone off to dote on his grandchildren again—it was the Empress Dowager and the Empress who beckoned him over. Taking his seat, the Empress Dowager said, "The Twelfth Master is twenty-three this year, busy with official duties all day long, putting off his lifelong matters. Empress, do you have any good families in mind? Find a respectable girl for our Twelfth Master, so your imperial father can set his mind at ease."
The Empress said she did. Having nothing better to do, she enjoyed playing matchmaker. Counting on her fingers, she listed, "There's the second princess of Duke Chai's family, the younger sister of Grand Minister Jiqing, and the eldest princess of General Erdmutu—she's the direct descendant of the old Saihan King, with noble blood! When she came to the palace last time, she had big double eyelids and was tall, a real beauty."
The Empress Dowager nodded. "Shall we set a date to meet? We Qiren aren't so particular—see the person first, and if they suit, then arrange the betrothal." She turned to Hongce. "What does the Twelfth Master think?"
Wasn't it said that the Yuwen men were doomed to suffer in love? If they never met the one, so be it, but if they did, it was for life. Marrying casually now might lead to trouble later, forcing him to follow his father's example. Favoring one would make a whole group cry—hardly worth it.
He shook his head, still smiling. "Someone like me might only burden others. There's no hurry for marriage. Right now, the court is cracking down on corruption—let's wait until that's settled."
The Empress tried to reassure him. "You can manage both—what's there to fear? Do you know the trick with raising pigeons, Twelfth Master? When a flock of pigeons takes to the sky and one extra returns at night, what do you do? First, don't let it fly. Let it walk around for a couple of days to recognize its home. If it's a male, find it a female; if it's female, pair it with a male. Once it has a family, it won't leave and will settle down. Even birds arrange their households—how much more so for us, right? Don't talk about burdening others. With your character and talent, you'd stand out even in the Golden Hall. As a Descendant of the Dragon, who would dare criticize you? The Emperor wouldn't allow it."
It seemed he couldn't refuse. But if he couldn't refuse, what then? Pretend not to understand. After all, he was deaf—as long as he didn't look up, no one could do anything about it.
The Empress spoke at length, waiting for a reply, but he had drifted off and only belatedly let out an "Ah." "What did Her Majesty say? I didn't quite catch it."
Honestly, this man! The Empress was at a loss. Blinking, she said to the Empress Dowager, "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink."
True enough. You could force someone to hand over money, but you couldn't force them into a wedding chamber. The Qiren might taste the pleasures of life early, but not all were betrothed early. Since he wasn't interested, they could discuss it again later.
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