Wei Shufen felt even more apprehensive than usual as she once again paid her respects to Empress Zhangsun.
The dignified and delicate Empress, supported by her maids, was impeccably dressed with subtle makeup, effectively masking her true complexion. Noblewomen from both the inner and outer courts had gathered at the Temple of Myriad Virtuous Nuns, requiring formal attire. However, as the Supreme Emperor’s coffin was still en route and not yet interred, bright colors and lavish adornments were forbidden. The Empress wore only hairpins and a deep blue, wide-sleeved plain robe.
Most of the noblewomen attending in the temple’s upper chambers also wore plain robes with ceremonial headpieces. Wei Shufen particularly noticed the former Sui Empress Xiao—the elderly nun Ji Nan, who had privately taken vows and practiced asceticism in the temple for many years—along with Dehua Princess Yang Guan’niang, both wearing false topknots, ceremonial crowns, and official robes to pay their respects. Empress Zhangsun treated them with exceptional courtesy, ordering seats to be placed beside her on both sides so the two noblewomen of the former Sui imperial family could sit with her.
Amid the crowd of elaborately adorned noblewomen, the Empress stood out with her refined speech, composed demeanor, and impeccable manners—flawless in every way. Yet the closer Wei Shufen stood to her, the more fearful she became. The Empress seemed too perfect, almost inhuman.
Her voice was soft, her smile elusive, and her gaze often sank into unfathomable depths. Occasionally, her wide sleeves slipped, revealing a bony wrist with skin stretched thin over the bones. The makeup and robes barely concealed her frail appearance, making her resemble a painted beauty from a folding screen Wei Shufen had once seen in a noble household or the palace.
Yes, the eldest daughter of Chancellor Wei thought, the Empress was like a screen painted with stories from Biographies of Exemplary Women —or perhaps a translucent summer screen, so fragile it might collapse at the slightest touch.
Yet as long as it remained undisturbed, such a screen could stand for a long time. Wei Shufen stood behind Yang Guan’niang—now also enfeoffed by the Tang court as the "Princess of the Western Sea" and granted the surname Li—listening as Empress Zhangsun chatted with her while watching the polo match on the street below.
Wei Shufen still didn’t know how to console Yang Xinzhi’s mother, though she had tried many times. To ensure her only son could grow up in their homeland, Guan’niang had endured humiliation, concealed her identity, suffered hardships for over a decade, and even attempted suicide. Such unwavering resolve could hardly be swayed by mere words.
Empress Zhangsun didn’t "console" her either. The Empress never mentioned the past. Sitting behind the railing upstairs, watching the polo field, she first praised Guan’niang’s son: "Your son is truly exceptional." She then remarked that with his stature, handsome features, loyal heart, and martial prowess, he would undoubtedly be admired wherever he went, earning his father’s love and the people’s support.
What mother wouldn’t delight in hearing such praise for her son, especially when every word was true? Wei Shufen, standing behind Guan’niang, couldn’t see her face but noticed her responses growing firmer, her posture straighter, even the floral ornaments on her ceremonial crown seeming to perk up.
This was good, at least for Yang Xinzhi’s sake. The day before, Wei Shufen had helped him carry his unconscious mother to the guesthouse at the Court of State Ceremonial. After the medical treatment and care, when everyone else had left, the tall, strong man knelt exhaustedly by his mother’s sickbed, burying his face in silence. Wei Shufen had been about to leave them alone when she heard Yang Xinzhi call out hoarsely:"Wei Niangzi... the news you heard in the palace, I..."
He raised his face, tears glistening unexpectedly on his cheeks:
"I... really... have to go?"
His voice was thick with nasal congestion and his words disjointed, but Wei Shufen understood what he meant. She sat back down by the bedside and affirmed softly:
"You really do. You must go."
"It's not that I'm afraid of hardship... I just... don't want to be..."
Yang Xinzhi choked back a sob and buried his face in his arms again. After a moment of silence, Wei Shufen gathered her courage and reached out to gently pat his shoulder in comfort.
He truly was Murong Shun's only son, destined to go to Tuyuhun to reunite with his birth father, bringing his mother along to live thereafter in that distant, windswept land beyond the frontier, far from the relatives, friends, and prosperous Central Plains he had known since childhood. Hardship was one thing—after all, he had already prepared himself to accompany Li Yuangui on official business to Gaochang, expecting not to return for years—but he couldn't accept his true identity. No matter how unfairly he had been treated, he had always considered himself a noble scion of the Guanlong elite. How could he have become... the Crown Prince of a foreign country overnight?
"Yang... eldest young master, try to see the brighter side. At least you and your mother can be reunited, and she won't have to endure the austere life in the nunnery any longer. Once you reach your homeland, your mother will be rightfully installed as queen, with all the luxuries that entails, and you'll have the opportunity to fully display your talents. Fourteenth Young Master will be in Gaochang, and you in Tuyuhun, supporting each other. Together, you can achieve great deeds of heroism..."
Wei Shufen exhausted her words of comfort, unsure whether Yang Xinzhi had taken them to heart or simply cried himself out, but his breathing gradually steadied. As it was getting late, she took her leave and returned to Purple Void Monastery. The next morning, she brought some belongings and entered the city early, hurrying to the guesthouse to accompany him and his mother to Xiuxiang Ward.
For the eldest daughter of Chancellor Wei, it was some consolation to realize that her reasoning in comforting Yang Xinzhi closely mirrored Empress Zhangsun's approach in consoling his mother. After praising "your eldest son," the Empress spoke of Tuyuhun's customs, geography, and military, describing its vast territories and pastures where even royal women often rode out to hunt, unlike the restrained and secluded noblewomen of Han lands. Though the people were brave and warlike, they were straightforward and bold, with deep reverence for the Murong royal family. Once Madam Guan and her son reached Fuqi City, they would surely live comfortably and contentedly—far better than their days of dependence in Chang'an, with only a dim lamp and Buddha for company.
"In the eighth year of the WuDe Era, the Supreme Emperor sent Duke Guangde, Li Anyuan, as an envoy to Tuyuhun. At that time, the two nations were at peace, and the old khan, Fu Yun, requested mutual trade at Chengfeng Garrison on the border. The Supreme Emperor granted it." The Empress's voice carried a note of yearning. "China was then recovering from turmoil, with people lacking plow oxen and mules, while the Tuyuhun herders were short on grain and clothing. Trade between the two nations filled each other's needs, and merchants flocked to the area. Within a few years, the valleys around Chengfeng Garrison teemed with livestock, the people prospered, and songs and dances filled the roads. Even in Chang'an, I heard the Emperor and his ministers praise the sight. Later, Murong Fu-yun, swayed by slander, raided our border prefectures, turning the two nations against each other until he brought about his own downfall. Now, as you go to Fuqi City to assist your husband in becoming king, if you can keep the people's livelihoods in mind and foster lasting harmony between our nations, reviving the border's former prosperity, wouldn't that be splendid? Though we are women, to devote ourselves to the state and its people, achieving such a feat—wouldn't that make our lives worthwhile?"She spoke these words in one breath, panting slightly by the end. The former Sui Dynasty's Empress Xiao, seated on the other side of the Empress, chimed in: "Her Majesty speaks wisely. Back in the previous dynasty, when the Crown Princess was first selected as a peace-marriage princess, this old nun—this guilty servant also encouraged her in the same way... Ah... This guilty servant has spoken out of turn..."
Wei Shufen gazed at the former dynasty's Empress, the current Empress, and the Queen of Tuyuhun before her, then couldn't help but glance sideways at the receptionist nun of Wanshan Temple standing nearby—Sima Lingji, the last Empress of Northern Zhou—her heart filled with complex emotions.
But it didn't end there. Yet another Empress—the future mother of the Tang nation, the current Crown Princess of the Crown Prince's Palace, Su Lingyu—lifted her skirts and ascended the steps, walking toward them. Noblewomen along the way bowed and made way for her. When she reached Empress Zhangsun, she curtsied and whispered a few words. The Empress nodded and said, "Good that you've brought it. Leave it in the pavilion for now—we'll deal with it after the polo match."
The Crown Princess acknowledged the order, instructed her attendants, then returned to her position standing behind her mother-in-law, beside Wei Shufen. The two women couldn't properly greet each other, but their eyes met quietly, each finding encouragement and solace in the other's gaze.
Su Lingyu's eyes then drifted downward, settling on the square bundle held in Wei Shufen's hands. Her gaze seemed to carry physical weight, making the eldest daughter of Chancellor Wei's arms tingle slightly. This bundle was precisely the reason Wei Shufen had sought out Empress Zhangsun today.
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