The nine strands of Green Pearl Tassels hanging before his eyes swayed slightly, barely obstructing his vision, while the Green Silk Floss stuffed in his ear holes was purely decorative. Nine Tang princes adorned in Ceremonial Robes and Crowns, escorted by over sixty mounted guides and a band of musicians, paraded grandly through the Guangming Gate, quickly drawing crowds of onlookers lining the streets.
Li Yuangui relished the scene.
He had witnessed ceremonies more solemn and majestic than this. Dressed in the same embroidered robes with green upper garments and crimson skirts, cinched with a grand sash of red lining and plain green trim, and further girded with a leather belt adorned with a jade-hilted sword, a dark jade pendant, and a vermilion ribbon with four colors... Standing among his brothers, bowing in unison amidst the clinking of jade ornaments and the rise and fall of red-socked, crimson-booted figures. That was during the grand farewell ceremony in the fifth year of Zhenguan, when the princes were sent to their fiefdoms. Back then, Li Yuangui had felt nothing but tension and exhaustion, with no sense of enjoyment.
Perhaps his luck had finally turned. With the earnest persuasion of his sixth brother and the unwitting support of his seventh brother, they managed to convince six more brothers in just half a day and a night. Thus, this morning, the lengthy funeral procession from the Great Peace Palace included nine imperial brothers and princes: Prince Zhao Yuan-jing, Prince Lu Yuan-chang, Prince Zheng Yuan-li, Prince Xu Yuan-jia, Prince Jing Yuan-ze, Prince Teng Yuan-yi, Prince Wu Yuan-gui, Prince Bin Feng, and Prince Chen Yuan-qing.
Thinking about it, it wasn’t surprising. His teenage brothers were usually confined to the forbidden garden, rarely getting the chance to venture into the city. In Li Yuangui’s mind, it would have been ideal if they had all used their full royal ceremonial processions—each riding a Vermilion-wheeled, Eight-belled, Four-Horse Drawn Elephant Carriage, with Dragon Banners on the left and Halberds on the right, under a Vermilion Canopy with a Nine-Tasseled Vermilion Pennant, forming a blazing red line through the streets. Ahead, the Martial Guard and Yongzhou soldiers would clear the way, while musicians and singers performed on horseback. Behind them would be the royal escort: Crossbow-Bearing Cavalry in crimson trousers, Spoked-Wheel Soldiers, the Halberd Squad, Blue Turban and Blue Robe Staff Bag Bearers, Sword and Shield Bearers, Bow and Arrow Bearers, Horse Spear Bearers... Towering above the procession would be the Guiding Banner, Halt Banner, Preaching Banner, and Faith Banner, all mounted on poles eleven feet high, gilded and feathered, standing like a forest to dazzle the eyes of Chang’an’s commoners and sycophants, while also bringing great honor to Princess Pingyang’s residence.
It was his sixth brother, Yuan-jing, who dissuaded him, explaining that those elephant carriages and ceremonial escorts were stored in the Court of the Imperial Stud and other places, and mobilizing them would require imperial decree, making too much of a spectacle. As a compromise, they had to make do with items stored in the Seventeenth Prince’s Residence. Thus, nine young princes, clad in Ceremonial Robes and Crowns and riding Jeweled Saddle, Silver-Adorned, Tri-Flower Horses, proceeded in order of seniority. Ahead, they were flanked by a large contingent of mounted guides and musicians, while behind them followed a long procession of bearers carrying sacrificial offerings, marching grandly into Guangde Ward.
The seventh-day memorial rites for Princess Linfen, the principal wife, held at Princess Pingyang’s residence, were exceptionally grand. From the ward gate to the crossroads, White Silk Paper Banners hung from the locust trees lining the streets, stretching endlessly into the distance. Paper money scattered on the dirt roads swirled into piles, blown by the wind. Mourning Sheds stood at intervals along the road for guests to tie their horses, park their carriages, and leave their servants. The scene appeared lively and bustling, though... the servants and family members managing the event seemed to outnumber the mourners.But as the mourning procession of the armored imperial princes entered the ward, the atmosphere instantly changed. It seemed as though the entire ward was filled with the clamor of nearly a hundred musicians. Duke Qiao, Imperial Consort Chai Shao, personally came out to greet them, humbly declining their condolences before Prince Zhao Yuan-jing, who led the procession. The nine princes dismounted and offered their sympathies to their brother-in-law. After three rounds of polite refusals, Chai Shao led the way, inviting the nine princes into the residence to pay their respects.
The entire Chai household, dressed in mourning attire, stood weeping at the base of the eastern steps, with the women mourning by the coffin to the west. The deceased’s husband, Chai Zhewei, heir of Duke Qiao, led the mourning rites. The nine princes were ushered to the north side of the courtyard, with Prince Zhao Yuan-jing at the forefront. He stepped forward to the east of the chief mourner and offered words of condolence, such as “how untimely this loss.” Chai Zhewei bowed deeply in response, and Li Yuanjing returned to his position in the north. The remaining princes followed suit, each offering their condolences with a dozen or so sobs before stopping.
Amid his brothers, Li Yuangui followed the ritual master’s instructions while keeping an eye on his nephew and close friend, Chai Zhewei. After seven days of exhausting mourning rites for a bride he had yet to formally wed, Zhewei looked haggard and weary, his unshaven beard making him appear a decade older.
Li Yuangui exchanged a bitter smile with him. The two were not only uncle and nephew but had also studied together in the Crown Prince’s Palace’s literary hall since childhood, sharing similar temperaments. Zhewei was usually reserved, preferring martial arts and hunting, and had little interest in romantic affairs. Though betrothed to his eldest uncle’s daughter, Yi Niang, since childhood, he had barely met her and couldn’t even say whether she was beautiful or plain. There had been no emotional attachment between them. During the preparations for the wedding, the phrase Li Yuangui heard most often from Zhewei was “loyalty”:
“When Yi Niang was betrothed to me in the eighth year of the WuDe Era, she was already a commandery princess, the eldest daughter of the Crown Prince, destined to become a princess—our family was the ones climbing high. At the time, my late mother had already passed, and we had no connections in the palace. Many said our family’s imperial favor was waning, yet my eldest uncle—the late Crown Prince Xi—still betrothed his daughter to me out of pure goodwill. Later, he brought misfortune upon himself—no need to elaborate—but Yi Niang was innocent in all this. In life, loyalty comes first. Our family would never kick someone when they’re down. The betrothal stands, so of course we must welcome Yi Niang with full ceremony…”
After all that effort, they ended up welcoming only Yi Niang’s spirit tablet and coffin into the household.
The cymbals and gongs east of the hall rang out as the monks resumed their rituals. Chai Shao deferentially led his nine imperial brothers-in-law to the side hall for a brief rest. The general and imperial consort was clearly in high spirits today. Though clad in coarse mourning attire with frayed edges and unable to laugh or speak loudly, every wrinkle on his face radiated excitement and satisfaction.
Ever since the “Imperial Gifts of Condolence” from the Court of State Ceremonial were displayed before the coffin, the stream of mourners had dwindled. This grand procession of nine princes through the city must have greatly bolstered the Chai family’s prestige. Chai Shao knew exactly whom to thank, and his tone when exchanging pleasantries with Li Yuangui was especially warm.
His only daughter was no exception. Chai Yingluo was absent from the line of mourning women west of the coffin—as a long-ordained Taoist nun with an Imperial Ordination Certificate, she was technically no longer part of the family. On formal occasions like the seventh-day memorial rites, it was inappropriate for her to openly “return to secular life” and assume the role of a family woman.Li Yuangui met Chai Yingluo in a private chamber behind the side hall. After the nine imperial princes and their brother-in-law Chai Shao exchanged pleasantries for a while, they all rose to take their leave. Chai Shao escorted them to the main gate with his family. Only Prince Wu Yuan-gui and Yang Xinzhi were detained and invited to the rear quarters, where a female Taoist priest wearing a hibiscus crown, yellow skirt, and purple shawl greeted them with a smile. Her Taoist nun vestments were slightly jarring to the eye.
The absence of a matron to manage household affairs had long been an awkward situation for Princess Pingyang’s residence. The third daughter of the Supreme Emperor and the only full sister of the current Son of Heaven, Princess Pingyang, had passed away young in the sixth year of the WuDe Era, leaving her husband Chai Shao with one daughter and two sons. Since then, Chai Shao must have had concubines in his chambers, but bearing the title of "Commandant of Imperial Equerries" and, more importantly, with both sons set to inherit their mother’s legacy, he could not openly take concubines according to his rank as the Duke of Qiao, let alone remarry a principal wife.
Under such circumstances, it should have fallen to his eldest daughter to handle major family affairs like weddings and funerals, even if she had to temporarily return from her marital home. But his only daughter had renounced worldly ties to become a Taoist nun, only coming back occasionally to assist with miscellaneous tasks. If Princess Linfen, Li Wanxi, had successfully married into the Chai household as the principal wife of Chai Zhewei, the eldest son of the duke, she could have taken on the role of matron in social engagements. However...
So perhaps they could only pin their hopes on the principal wife of Chai Shao’s second son, Chai Ling-wu? No, that wouldn’t do either, Li Yuangui recalled. Chai Ling-wu had already been betrothed to the seventh daughter of the Son of Heaven, Princess Baling, and would become an imperial son-in-law in the future. Moreover, he would surely establish a separate residence with the princess. Even if they didn’t, expecting an imperial princess to manage the household affairs of a duke’s residence was... wishful thinking.
It seemed they would have to wait until Chai Zhewei completed the mourning period for his late principal wife before remarrying... But dwelling on such thoughts now was a distraction.
Li Yuangui exchanged polite but absentminded greetings with Chai Yingluo until a remark from the female Taoist priest seized his full attention:
"...That day, when I returned from my fifth aunt’s home, I discussed the Eastern Palace Poison Wine Case from ten years ago with my father. He was present at the time. According to my father, the one who ordered the poisoning of the second uncle was most likely not the former Crown Prince Jiancheng. He was framed."
In the third month of the eighth year of WuDe, during a banquet at the Eastern Palace celebrating the engagement of the eldest princess, Prince Qin Li Shimin suddenly fell ill and left early, later vomiting several pints of blood in what appeared to be poisoning. Over a year later, after the Black Tortoise Gate Incident, Prince Qin was established as Crown Prince, and the case was reinvestigated. The conclusion was that the former Crown Prince Jiancheng had masterminded the poisoning, with the Eastern Palace’s kitchen staff administering the poison in Prince Qin’s wine to eliminate his political rival.
"Brother-in-law Chai said the eldest brother was wrongfully accused?"
Ten years ago, Li Yuangui himself had been only five or six years old and remembered little. But Chai Yingluo had already been a young maiden of fourteen or fifteen, and her father, Chai Shao, was not only a high-ranking minister and royal in-law but had also grown up alongside the Li brothers, knowing them intimately. If they claimed the poisoner was likely not Li Jiancheng, it must have been credible.
Chai Yingluo smiled at her younger uncle:
"Ten years ago, when the second uncle was poisoned at the Eastern Palace, the incident caused an uproar that shook the court. I remember it vividly. At the time, my father said the Crown Prince—the eldest uncle, the former Crown Prince—was not the kind of person who would resort to poisoning..."
"Young lady, stop spreading rumors about your father," Chai Shao’s hearty laughter came from outside the door. "When did I ever say such a thing, hmm?"He had just returned after seeing off the young princes. The people in the room rose again to greet him before settling back into their seats. Chai Yingluo addressed her father with a hint of playful coquetry, "Father, didn't you say you didn't believe Eldest Uncle would poison Second Uncle? Why are you denying it now?"
Chai Shao shook his head. "I never said the former Crown Prince didn't want to poison his brother—he certainly did. Later, when the current Emperor ascended the throne and investigated the poisoned wine case, blaming the former Crown Prince wasn't entirely unjust. It's just... heh... he probably had the wicked intention but lacked the wicked courage!"
Chai Shao, the Duke of Qiao and third son-in-law of the emperor, had been a chivalrous youth in his younger days, a straightforward and unrestrained man whose bold speech contrasted sharply with the refined and cautious demeanor of Yang Shidao, the fifth son-in-law. Li Yuangui and Yang Xinzhi couldn't help but chuckle.
"Fourteenth Young Master, you were born late and probably have little memory of your eldest and fourth brothers," Chai Shao said with a smile to Li Yuangui. "The former Crown Prince... sigh, he was originally good-natured, kind-hearted, and capable in handling affairs. But he had one flaw—indecisiveness. He would dither endlessly, unable to make up his mind, always thinking this person made sense and that person had a point, driving us subordinates to frustration. In the time he spent hesitating, Prince Qin could have won countless battles!"
"Father, are you saying Eldest Uncle simply couldn't bring himself to poison Second Uncle?" Chai Yingluo asked.
"Exactly. Do you know how much of a stir this caused at the time? Prince Qin was the foremost hero in establishing our Great Tang—half the empire was conquered by him. So many strategists, fierce generals, and elite soldiers were willing to die for him, and he controlled several circuits beyond Chang'an. Back then, the Turkic wolves invaded the Central Plains in force every year, and each time, it was Prince Qin who repelled them. If anything had happened to him, the newly unified empire would have immediately fractured into war again. Crown Prince Jiancheng understood all this clearly—he didn't have the ruthless determination to bear such grave consequences..."
Chai Shao sighed as he spoke. Chai Yingluo interjected, "And at the time, Grandfather still doted on Second Uncle, didn't he? At least he wanted to preserve all his sons' lives? If Eldest Uncle had openly harmed Second Uncle, Grandfather wouldn't have let it go, would he?"
"Your grandfather... the Supreme Emperor, never once considered sacrificing any of his sons," Chai Shao replied with a smile at his daughter. "Until the sixth month of the ninth year, he still believed he could mediate the conflicts between his three sons and ensure they each lived peacefully. The former Crown Prince relied on his father's protection his entire life—of course he wouldn't dare risk angering the Supreme Emperor. So when the poisoned wine incident came to light, we all agreed it didn't seem like something Crown Prince Jiancheng could have resolved to do. The Supreme Emperor probably understood this too, which is why the investigation was hastily concluded, blaming it on Prince Qin's own stomach ailment—saying he shouldn't have been drinking—and reprimanding the Crown Prince for failing to care for his brother properly."
"Then... was the wine Yi Niang offered Prince Qin actually poisoned or not?" Li Yuangui asked, secretly wondering if his second brother had faked it to frame his eldest brother.
Chai Shao tapped his fingers lightly against his knee, pondering before answering:"That banquet at the Crown Prince's Palace—I, Chai Shao, was also present. Since it was celebrating Zhewei and Yi Niang's engagement, Prince Qin even egged me on to be the first to drink Yi Niang's toast. Later, when the incident occurred, the investigators repeatedly questioned me about the situation at the time, and I remember it clearly—a eunuch and a serving girl followed Yi Niang into the hall. The eunuch held the wine pot and poured into the cups on the tray carried by the serving girl, who then instructed Yi Niang on whom to toast and how to address them. I recall there were four or five small Golden Curved Cups on the tray. I drank the first cup in one go, followed by two elder uncles, with nothing unusual. Prince Qin was the fourth to drink, and not long after, he excused himself to freshen up..."
"Brother-in-law, the wine you and Prince Qin drank came from the same pot but not the same cup?" Li Yuangui asked. If so, the Crown Prince's Palace could have smeared poison on a specific cup and used it to toast Prince Qin.
"Correct," Chai Shao confirmed, then added, "Actually, I'm not even sure if it was poured from the same wine pot—I was too busy watching Yi Niang at the time, thinking to myself that this little girl would one day be a grand princess, wondering if Zhewei could handle her once she married into our family... The lamplight behind her was dim, and from where we were seated, we couldn't clearly see the pouring..."
"The lamplight behind Yi Niang was dim?" Chai Yingluo asked. "The Crown Prince hosting a banquet in the main hall—why wouldn't they arrange more candles? It's so dreary in the dark."
"Oh, there was a reason for that," Chai Shao replied. "Earlier, Prince Qi had gone out to freshen up and accidentally kicked over a Lamp Tree at the hall entrance, spilling oil and candles all over the floor. The Lamp Tree was quite large, and the servants couldn't relight it immediately, leaving that area somewhat dim... It was understandable—too much drinking..."
Li Yuangui and Chai Yingluo exchanged glances, both seeing alertness in each other's expressions. Chai Yingluo asked:
"Father, was it also Prince Qi who first suggested having Yi Niang come out to toast the elders?"
"Exactly," Chai Shao sighed, looking at his daughter and brother-in-law. "You've figured it out, haven't you?"
Prince Qi, Li Yuan-ji—the fourth brother of the Crown Prince and Prince Qin, who during the WuDe Era's succession struggle openly aided the Crown Prince while secretly scheming for his own gain. He was the first to urge Yi Niang to toast Prince Qin, and before Yi Niang entered the hall, he kicked over the illuminating Lamp Tree, making it easier to tamper with the wine Prince Qin couldn't refuse...
"At the time... Brother-in-law, did any of you suspect that Prince Qi was the real mastermind behind the poisoning?" Li Yuangui asked.
Chai Shao nodded. "Back then, a few close friends and I privately discussed that if Prince Qin had indeed drunk poisoned wine, Prince Qi was far more likely to have orchestrated it than the Crown Prince. It was a two-birds-with-one-stone scheme—eliminating Prince Qin while framing the Crown Prince for fratricide... But the case was hastily closed in the eighth year, and the poisoning angle was dropped. After the ninth year's sixth month, when the investigation reopened, I was away leading troops, so I'm not clear on how they concluded it was poisoning."
It seemed that to fully understand this matter—and whether it was connected to Yi Niang's murder—they would need to question the officials who reopened the poisoned wine case after the Xuanwu Gate Incident... As Li Yuangui pondered this, Chai Yingluo smiled and said to her father:
"If you say Fourth Uncle masterminded the poisoning, I'd believe it. This kind of elaborate, high-risk scheme to poison someone—only to fail and let Second Uncle survive—is exactly the kind of bungling Fourth Uncle would pull off."Chai Shao burst into laughter, and Li Yuangui couldn't help but chuckle too. Although he had no personal impression of that fourth brother, he'd heard many say that the former Prince Qi, Li Yuanji, had a violent and cruel temperament. While exceptionally brave and strong, he lacked administrative talent—"possessing Prince Qin's boldness but none of his meticulousness." Whenever he attempted anything slightly complex or troublesome, it would start with great fanfare, be riddled with mistakes midway, and end hastily, often requiring his elder brothers to clean up the mess.
If it truly was the former Prince Qi Yuanji scheming behind his eldest brother's back in the Crown Prince's Palace, arranging for the second brother to be poisoned, then the poison must have been procured by him as well. Yet the poison proved ineffective—Prince Qin recovered after being treated by physicians upon returning to his residence... Yes, that indeed sounded like Li Yuanji's style.
"Since there were such rumors at the time, when the Poison Wine Case was reopened for investigation, didn't the investigators consider Prince Qi as the real culprit?" Li Yuangui asked Chai Shao. "After the sixth month of the ninth year, who was in charge of the investigation? Do you know, brother-in-law?"
Chai Shao scratched his head in thought. "At that time, I was leading troops on the northwestern frontier against the barbarians, so I wasn't paying much attention... Oh, right, I later heard someone mention that it was old minister Pei Ji who handled it."
Pei Ji... After the Xuanwu Gate Incident, the person in charge of reinvestigating the Crown Prince's Poison Wine Case was actually him?
Li Yuangui straightened slightly in his seat. Pei Ji had been close friends with Supreme Emperor Li Yuan even before the Taiyuan uprising, becoming the foremost non-imperial contributor to the Tang's founding and the most trusted chancellor throughout the WuDe era. During the late WuDe period's succession struggles among the imperial princes, Pei Ji ostensibly remained neutral, though most in court and beyond knew he secretly supported former Crown Prince Li Jiancheng. After the current Son of Heaven seized power through the palace coup, Pei Ji was initially kept in high honor to stabilize public sentiment.
At that time, to reopen the Crown Prince's Poison Wine Case and specifically assign Pei Ji to lead it—this surely wasn't merely about "uncovering the truth to find the poisoner," was it? Presumably, someone who had just killed his brothers and imprisoned his father urgently needed justification. Proving that the former Crown Prince had attempted to poison him first would be more favorable in swaying public opinion... Pei Ji, a crafty old fox who had weathered countless storms, would naturally understand. To "atone" and protect himself, he would likely stop at nothing to deliver conclusions pleasing to those in power.
"I was in the capital then and heard some talk," Chai Yingluo said. "It seems that during Chancellor Pei's thorough investigation in the Crown Prince's Palace, he received some covert guidance and ultimately obtained evidence proving poisoning occurred, thus overturning the case."
"Who provided this covert guidance? What evidence was obtained?" Li Yuangui pressed.
Chai Yingluo shook her head. "That's all I remember. At the time, everyone feared for their safety—no one dared move about or gossip freely. With Father commanding troops abroad, I stayed home and rarely went out. Fourteenth Uncle, if you want to clarify this matter, you'd probably have to..."
The female Taoist's words trailed off. Those in the room exchanged bitter smiles.Logically speaking, with the Imperial Edict authorizing his investigation, Li Yuangui could have directly questioned Pei Ji, the official handling the case. However, after the court stabilized in the early Zhenguan era, the current Son of Heaven found several faults with Pei Ji. The powerful minister, who had harbored deep grudges against the emperor during the WuDe Era, was convicted, had his property confiscated, and was exiled from the capital. Three years ago, Pei Ji passed away in exile, and his family transported his remains back to his hometown in Hedong for burial. The once-prominent Pei clan had now vanished without a trace in the capital. Forget questioning Pei Ji himself—it would likely be impossible to even find his close relatives or old associates.
As Li Yuangui pondered this, footsteps sounded at the door, and a servant announced:
"The supervisor of Great Peace Palace has arrived to deliver the funeral gifts from the Supreme Emperor and offer condolences to Princess Linfen!"
This meant someone from the Supreme Emperor's side had come to attend Yi Niang's seventh-day memorial rites. Everyone in the room stood up, and Chai Shao and his daughter straightened their attire to greet the visitor.
Li Yuangui followed them out, but the thought that the envoy was surely sent by Consort Yin suddenly filled him with a heavy sense of foreboding.
#####This chapter includes notes on the grandeur of the nine imperial princes' mourning rites. For the full annotations, visit the author's Weibo. Search for the ID "Tang Dynasty Guide Forest Deer" on Sina Weibo—exchanges are welcome.
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