The east wind thaws the ice, rain nourishes the peach blossoms, dormant insects begin to stir, and the Dark Bird is about to return—another spring has arrived, the cycle beginning anew.
This spring would have been just another ordinary start to the year, but for the officials in the capital, the princely estates beyond, the civil and military offices, and even the millions of subjects of Great Wei, the twenty-sixth of next month is a day of special celebration—one to be rejoiced across the land.
This was the sixth year of Manifest Peace, and on the twenty-sixth of next month, the emperor would reach his fiftieth birthday.
Since ascending the throne, seven years had passed in the blink of an eye. In the private assessments of his ministers, though His Majesty was known for harsh laws and severity bordering on ruthlessness, he had also governed with a focus on recuperation and nurturing the people. Throughout his reign, he had indulged in neither extravagant construction nor sensual pleasures, instead devoting himself tirelessly to state affairs. Now, with the realm at peace and the people prosperous, his achievements were plain for all to see. Thus, as his fiftieth birthday approached, ministers repeatedly submitted memorials proposing a general amnesty and a grand Thousand Autumn Celebration Ritual organized by the Ministry of Rites, so that the entire nation might celebrate and offer prayers for His Majesty’s longevity.
The emperor had always shown little interest in celebrating his own birthday. Every year, the occasion was marked only by solemn rites in the ancestral temple, with no congratulations from the officials—a tradition unchanged year after year. But this time, perhaps due to his advancing age or the significance of turning fifty, the emperor unexpectedly did not voice opposition. Thus, after the Lantern Festival, preparations for the grand birthday celebration on the twenty-sixth began under the leadership of the Ministry of Rites and the Imperial Clan Court, with support from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, the Court of Imperial Entertainments, and the Court of State Ceremonial. The other ministries and the Nine Chief Ministers all set aside their usual duties to focus on the event. Proposals such as erecting altars, conducting Taoist Ritual Offerings, or building temples to pray for longevity were all rejected by the emperor. However, last year, a decisive victory had been achieved in the southeastern coastal campaign against the Japanese Pirates, completely destroying their lair on the Penghu Islands. Nearly ten thousand pirates were slain, thousands captured, and the rest fled in panic back to their homeland like stray dogs. The long-standing scourge of coastal raids was finally eradicated, bringing joy to both soldiers and civilians, who now eagerly awaited the lifting of the Sea Ban. The Ministry of War proposed a ceremony to present the captives before the Meridian Gate of the imperial city on His Majesty’s birthday, both to celebrate the occasion and to display the nation’s might. The emperor approved, and the Ministry of War took charge of the arrangements.
Late at night, as the third watch approached, Li Yuangui hurried into the hall with a memorial in hand, a faint smile on his face. At the entrance, he glanced inside and, seeing only darkness, asked a young eunuch on duty, “Has Your Majesty retired?”
The young eunuch whispered, “His Majesty was somewhat weary. With few memorials to review, he finished by the hour of Hai and has already retired.”
Li Yuangui clutched the memorial and hesitated, glancing once more toward the inner chamber. Suddenly, from the depths of the pitch-black hall, the emperor’s voice rang out—hoarse and weary. “Is that Li Yuangui?”
Li Yuangui quickly acknowledged and tucked the memorial into his robe before entering. He lit a candle and approached the Dragon Bed, lifting one side of the curtain and securing it with a golden hook.
Xiao Lie opened his eyes and slowly sat up. Li Yuangui noticed that the back of his white Underwear was damp with sweat, clinging to his skin, and a faint sheen of moisture glistened on his forehead—as if he had just awoken from a troubling dream. Hurriedly, he fetched a towel to wipe the emperor’s brow.
Xiao Lie took it and dabbed at his forehead himself.
“Does Your Majesty still have a headache? You must take care of your Dragon Body! Pay no mind to the foolish words of those ignorant fools! The imperial physicians have said that Your Majesty’s condition stems from pent-up frustration and constrained emotions. If you can ease your mind and relax, your health will naturally improve.”Since last year, Xiao Lie's health had gradually declined compared to the previous years. He slept lightly at night and often suffered from headaches. Today, after returning from court, the pain struck again—triggered by discussions about the Longevity Celebration. During the court assembly, as ministers debated preparatory matters, the Grand Tutor and Hanlin Academician submitted a memorial. He argued that the Eastern Palace concerned the state's foundation and was a matter of great importance to the court, yet the position remained vacant, causing anxiety among officials. The deposed Crown Prince had been guarding the imperial tombs for many years, and the minister hoped the emperor would take this opportunity to recall him, offering guidance and education for the benefit of the court and the realm.
Though the memorial never explicitly mentioned reinstating the deposed Crown Prince, its implication was unmistakable.
Seven years had passed since the emperor's ascension. His only son, once the Crown Prince, had been deposed and sent to guard the ancestral tombs. During these years, the imperial harem remained silent, and rumors spread that the emperor had neglected his consorts, never summoning any to his chambers. While the court maintained a facade of calm, beneath the surface, speculation and undercurrents swirled. In recent years, officials grew increasingly concerned, with some surmising that the emperor intended to reinstate the Crown Prince but lacked a suitable opportunity. Now, with the Longevity Celebration preparations underway, astute figures like the Grand Tutor seized the moment to submit such a memorial, believing they were anticipating the emperor's wishes. Yet to their shock, the emperor flew into a rage, immediately dismissing the Grand Tutor and sentencing him to thirty lashes of Court Bashing before storming out of court, leaving the officials trembling in fear or stunned disbelief. Upon returning to the inner palace, the emperor's headache flared up, and it took the imperial physicians considerable effort to ease his discomfort.
Xiao Lie did not respond immediately. He wiped his sweat, tossed aside the towel, and asked, "What brings you here in the middle of the night?"
Li Yuangui hurriedly smiled and replied, "Your Majesty, the Longevity Congratulatory Memorial from the Military Commissioner's office in Longyou has arrived overnight. Remembering Your Majesty's instructions, I dared not delay and brought it here at once..."
Xiao Lie turned sharply toward Li Yuangui, who then retrieved the wax-sealed memorial from his robes and presented it reverently with both hands.
The emperor stared at it for a long moment before slowly accepting it. He broke the seal, hesitated briefly, and finally withdrew the memorial.
A single sheet of paper, bearing only a few lines of text. The emperor's gaze swept over it, then froze. After a prolonged silence, his eyes gradually filled with a mix of disappointment and fury. With a cold laugh, he flung the memorial to the ground. "As I expected! Exactly as I thought!"
The memorial fluttered down, landing before the Dragon Bed.
For the emperor's grand Longevity Celebration, all provincial officials and military offices of the seventh rank or higher who could not attend in person were required to lead their subordinates in local ceremonies to honor heaven and celebrate the occasion, afterward submitting memorials.
Li Yuangui held his breath and glanced at the memorial, catching the final line: "...With utmost reverence, we celebrate Your Majesty's sacred Longevity Festival, Responding to Heaven's Blessings, Receiving Eternal Prosperity. Your servant Pei You'an and others, filled with joy and devotion, humbly wish Your Majesty countless years of longevity."
It was the standard formula used by officials for such memorials—not a word more, not a word less. In recent days, dozens of similar memorials had arrived daily from various provinces, all identical except for the names of the submitting officials.Li Yuangui recognized Pei You'an's handwriting and confirmed it was indeed his own, not penned by an aide, which slightly eased his mind. He hurriedly picked it up and said with an apologetic smile, "Your Majesty, please do not overthink this. This is the Longevity Congratulatory Memorial, and every province has its established format. How could Lord Pei possibly stand out or be different? He must certainly remember in his heart. Look at the handwriting, Your Majesty—it is Lord Pei’s own, each stroke deliberate and traceable. It shows he wrote this memorial with utmost reverence, sitting solemnly upright."
Xiao Lie remained silent, slowly rising from his couch. He slipped on his shoes and walked to the north window, pushing it open to gaze into the pitch-black night sky, standing motionless as he faced the north.
Li Yuangui dared not speak further, standing with his hands at his sides. Suddenly, the emperor asked, "Has Cui Yinshui sent any news of the child recently?"
"Reporting to Your Majesty, the last letter arrived at the end of last year, which I have already presented to you. There has been no new news since. If Your Majesty is concerned, I can immediately send word, ordering him to report."
The emperor was silent for a moment before saying, "That child was born on the Spring Begins day of the third year of Manifest Peace. Now, six years have passed, and he is three years old. I long to see him."
"I will turn fifty next month. My grandson should return."
He turned and looked at Li Yuangui, speaking slowly.
Li Yuangui knelt and kowtowed, saying, "This servant obeys Your Majesty’s decree."
...
As spring arrived, the ice and snow in Suyeh City gradually melted. In a few more days, the Spring Market would begin.
During the Spring Market, merchants from the Western Regions and the Central Plains would gather in Suyeh City to trade goods. Wine, jade, medicinal herbs, and Bin Iron from the Western Regions; silk, cotton, porcelain, and even horses from the Central Plains—goods from all corners of the world would fill the market. For half a month, camel caravans and horse caravans would come and go without end, and people from all directions would flock to the market with their families. The liveliness of Suyeh City could almost rival that of the cities in the Central Plains.
Located at the crossroads of major trade routes, Suyeh City had hosted such Spring Markets for over a decade, but the scale had always been small, lasting only two or three days. It was only in the past three years, after Pei You'an assumed the position of Military Commissioner of Longyou and moved his administrative office here, encouraging trade between the Western Regions and the Central Plains, that the Spring Market of Suyeh City began attracting merchants from afar. The market rapidly expanded, lasting over ten days last year. Though the market was still a few days away this year, merchants had already begun arriving in droves. Inns were packed to capacity, and the sound of camel bells filled the streets and alleys, making the city even livelier than the previous year.
All merchants coming to trade in the city had to first register at the Military Commissioner’s office in the northern part of the city. Thus, early in the morning, clerks seated at tables outside the office gates were already busy. Merchants came and went in an endless stream, with many lingering even after registration, hoping to find a way to be introduced and meet the renowned Military Commissioner.
While the front of the office bustled with activity, a small training ground at the back remained quiet. A young boy had arrived early in the morning to begin his daily practice.
The boy was only three or four years old, dressed in a light blue shirt, with delicate features and his hair tied in two small buns atop his head, resembling tiny horns—utterly adorable. Upon arriving, he assumed a horse stance in front of an incense stick burning on a rack opposite him.This was the task his father had assigned him. His father said that since last month, he had turned three years old and it was time to begin his studies. On odd-numbered days, he was to read a passage and practice writing a page of characters every morning. On even-numbered days, he would go to the small training ground to hold a horse stance for the time it took a stick of incense to burn, followed by shooting twenty arrows.
Today was an even-numbered day, but his father was occupied and couldn’t accompany him. So the little boy went by himself, just as usual, assuming the horse stance exactly as his father had taught him—meticulous and proper in every detail.
As the sun rose higher, the incense stick grew shorter. Since he had only just begun practicing, sweat soon beaded on the boy’s forehead. A servant standing by—pale-faced, beardless, with a high-pitched voice—was the eunuch Cui Yinshui, who had now accompanied the young master for three years. Seeing the boy struggle, Cui’s heart ached with sympathy. Glancing around and noticing the master wasn’t present, he hurried to the incense stick, puffed out his cheeks, and began blowing on it with all his might. He huffed and puffed until he was out of breath, his eyes rolling back, sweat breaking out on his back despite the weather. Finally, he managed to blow out the incense stick. Letting out a long exhale, he turned around and said cheerfully, “Young Master! Look, I’ve helped you finish the incense! Today’s horse stance is done!”
The boy—Pei You’an’s son—acted as though he hadn’t heard, continuing to hold his stance motionlessly, his small body unwavering. His eyes remained fixed on the shadow cast by the weapon rack on the ground until it merged with the corner of the wall. Only then did he straighten up, stretching his slightly sore legs. “Cui Ban’er,” he said, his voice still soft with childishness, “if my father comes later and asks whether I practiced for the full duration of the incense, I’ll tell him you blew it out for me. I had to rely on the shadow from the day before yesterday, so I don’t know if it was enough.”
Cui Yinshui was terrified. “Aiyo!” he cried, dropping to his knees and slapping his own face repeatedly. “Stupid mouth!” he wailed. “Young Master, please spare me this time! I’ll never dare do it again!”
The boy watched him slap himself a few times before stepping forward and pulling his hands away. “Cui Ban’er, I know you mean well, but I don’t like this. If I promise my father something, I must do it properly! I was just teasing you this time. But if you do it again, I’ll really be angry!”
Cui Yinshui nodded vigorously. Only then did the boy smile. He then picked up a small iron bow—crafted for him by his father—from the weapon rack, stood several paces away, nocked an arrow, drew the string to full tension, took aim, and loosed it toward the target ahead.
With a whoosh , the arrow struck the target, though it landed two inches off the bullseye. Despite his young age, his gaze and posture were remarkably steady, already hinting at the bearing of a master.
Seeing that his arrow hadn’t hit dead center, the boy continued practicing, shooting arrow after arrow. He had long surpassed twenty shots but seemed determined to keep going, unwavering in his focus. Gradually, he grew hot and sweaty, eventually stripping off his outer robe.Cui Yinshui watched from the side, his heart aching once more, wishing he could step in and take over. Yet this time, he dared not utter a single word, merely standing by to assist the child with passing arrows. Just then, a graceful beauty in her early twenties entered through the training ground's gate. With bright eyes and mist-like hair, she wore an autumn-green skirt, and as the wind carried a slight chill, she draped a short cape with a white fox-fur collar embroidered with crabapple blossoms over her shoulders. Radiantly beautiful, she walked toward them. Hearing footsteps, Cui Yinshui turned and, recognizing the mistress, brightened with joy. He hurried forward, gesturing animatedly as he spoke.
Ci'er had just turned three last month when Pei You'an began bringing him to the training grounds. Jiafu's heart ached for him, and at first, she tried to stop it. But her son stubbornly refused her concern, leaving her no choice but to relent. Earlier, she had heard from Tanxiang that Pei You'an had gone out on business, and feeling uneasy, she came to check on them. Seeing her son shooting arrow after arrow, she called out to him. Hearing her voice, Ci'er immediately set down his bow and arrows and ran over.
Jiafu embraced him, noticing the sweat on his face and the dampness on his back. Her heart clenched with worry as she took out a handkerchief to wipe his brow, asking if he was tired.
In front of his father, Ci'er acted like a little adult, but with Jiafu, he reverted to a soft, clingy child, wrapping his arms around her neck and pressing his little face against hers as he nodded.
When Jiafu saw the red marks left by the bowstring on his small palms, her heart ached even more, and she couldn't help but silently blame Pei You'an. After questioning Cui Yinshui, she learned that Ci'er had already shot the twenty arrows Pei You'an had assigned. She then took her son back to their quarters, bathed him, and changed his clothes inside and out.
Muxiang brought over a bowl of snacks, and Jiafu fed him herself. After a few bites, Yang Yun came to report that the birthday gifts, along with the Longevity Banner, had been sealed and sent to the capital via express courier.
The emperor's fiftieth birthday was a grand celebration across the land, and news had reached Longyou early. Yet Pei You'an had only submitted a formal congratulatory memorial, offering nothing else, remaining as busy as ever. So Jiafu took it upon herself to embroider a Longevity Banner and personally crafted a Longevity and Joy Garment, sending them to the capital under the name of the Longxi Military Commissioner's residence.
She hadn’t hidden her work from Pei You'an—she had deliberately shown it to him that day. He glanced at it, then walked past with a stern face. Since he didn’t object, she had Yang Yun deliver the gifts once they were finished.
After Yang Yun finished his report and left, Jiafu continued feeding her son. But then Ci'er blinked and asked curiously, "Mother, where is the capital? What does the emperor look like? Why did you make clothes for him with your own hands for his birthday? I saw that day—why was Father so unhappy?"
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