Chapter Fifteen

The carriage moved slowly forward, entering the Imperial Avenue, and the clamor gradually faded into the distance.

There was a whispered voice from Zhao Si, “Is this the road to the Imperial City? I recall we should enter through Gongchen Gate. Why have we taken a turn?”

“Young lord, the imperial princess is not going to the inner palace to pay thanks,” a guard explained patiently, “His Majesty is at the Yanfu Palace today.”

The young lord nodded in understanding.

After a while, he muttered again, “So many palaces!”

Someone laughed heartily, “Indeed! His Majesty is the most fortunate man under heaven, hence the many palaces to live in!”

Within the capital of Northern Song’s Bianjing, there was already the Forbidden City, but His Majesty found it uncomfortable.

He felt the palace was cramped, narrow, old, and dim. However, large-scale renovations would violate ancestral decrees, and with such limited space, what could possibly be built?

Thus, led by Cai Jing, five chief eunuchs gathered their collective wisdom and talents to clear a plot of land outside Gongchen Gate and constructed Yanfu Palace. It was a marvel how such a large plot was cleared in the heart of the imperial city, but what came next from these five eunuchs was even more astonishing.

In short, the five chief eunuchs built five palace complexes, each with distinctive characteristics, all exerting their utmost efforts—neither sparing themselves nor the people's wealth. Because of their achievements in constructing Yanfu Palace, they were known as the “Five of Yanfu.” Everyone in the palace praised their work as truly magnificent.

As for whether these palaces deserved such praise, today Zhao Luming was about to witness it firsthand.

This palace seemed to glow.

Perhaps the light came from heaven, but when it shone on the mortal world, it dispersed; yet, when it entered this palace, it was carefully preserved. Maybe it was the gleam on the expansive, bird-wing-like eaves, the luster of glazed tiles extending down the walls, spreading like flowing water, shimmering with radiant light.

Glazed tiles paved the walls, crystal pillars formed their bases, coral adorned the brackets, and jade carved the railings.

The children stayed outside Chenhui Gate, while she followed the attendants deeper inside, a sensation of dizziness washing over her.

The strange flowers and exotic trees were one thing, but many bronze-crafted rare birds and beasts adorned the palace—some she had seen before, some only in the Classic of Mountains and Seas, and others she had never heard of or seen—crouching on rooftops, beneath windows, beside pillars, each with jewel-encrusted eyes sparkling, motionless, staring at her.

The feeling was strange. She thought she had entered a celestial realm, yet this realm was incomplete, still needing finishing touches. Those who lived here appeared caught between worlds. The wealth of the mortal world was all condensed within this palace, making its master yearn even more to gaze heavenward.

Otherwise, why would he have built Yanfu Palace first, then followed with Genyue?

The stars and constellations twisted and turned as they progressed into the main hall.

An attendant stepped aside slightly, “Imperial Princess, this is Kunyu Hall. His Majesty has been waiting for you a long time.”

She lifted her gaze; His Majesty held a brush, turning his head toward her.

Sunlight fell upon him.

Though sunlight is ordinarily bright yet bland, now it gathered into splendid waves, as if he embraced it, then generously bestowed it, filling the hall with radiant light.

There were dragons winding around the pillars, dragons flowing along the eaves, and dragons coursing through the light that surrounded him.

Standing before the hall was Zhao Luming—the morning true imperial princess, a subtle celestial child, and mistress of the White Deer Spirit Palace. Her mind seemed to spark like a Geiger counter wildly clicking.

Though Emperor Huizong’s remains had been lost to later generations, he himself was probably not radioactive. His glow came only because he wore a robe that reflected the sunlight fiercely.

Like the simple hemp robe he usually wore while cultivating the Way, this robe was also embroidered with dragons, but the golden threads used for the dragons shone even more brilliantly than the wildly reflective material! One could only imagine how many embroiderers’ eyes were dazzled before it was finally completed.

Of course, leaving radiation aside, the robe was not wasted on him.

At this time in the Great Song, whether in the front court or the inner palace, men and women alike were remarkably beautiful. Unreliable rumors even claimed that one criterion for promoting eunuchs was a tall, well-proportioned figure, fair skin without scars, and finely featured faces with high noses and large eyes.

Surrounded by such beauties yet maintaining a graceful and gentle demeanor showed His Majesty’s confidence in his own appearance.

He smiled and laid down the brush.

“Child Zhao Lu—”

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted, “Why speak like a little scholar? You needn’t manage family affairs or govern the realm.”

She closed her mouth again, silently adding in her heart: hard to say.

Today His Majesty was in “father mode,” very kind and amiable, inviting her over to look at his paintings.

Father was painting birds—vividly colored, relaxed in posture, necks outstretched singing. Outside the hall, birds chirped softly, hidden among branches and leaves, quiet and lovely.

“How is it?” Father asked.

“Adorable. I want to touch them,” she said.

His Majesty’s eyes curved in a smile. “When I finish, I’ll have them framed and give them to you.”

“Thank you, Father,” she replied.

“Don’t mention it,” he laughed again. “It’s just a painting. As long as you like it, that’s enough.”

A palace maid silently stepped out from behind a screen, carrying a basin for His Majesty to wash his hands.

It was snack time, followed shortly by a group of attendants who brought in a small table laden with various delicacies, alongside tea, soup, and a carefully blended concoction of tea, fruit, and cheese.

She glanced over, sensing something unusual.

These snacks were shaped like little birds, rabbits, and fish—exquisite and lifelike, clearly designed for a child's delight.

If it wasn’t for her father’s sudden drop in aesthetic standards, it had to be made especially for her.

“Father,” she clapped her hands, “they’re so beautiful! I’ve never seen such pretty snacks. I don’t even want to eat them!”

His Majesty smiled, stroking his beard, “Eat them while they’re warm. No more fussing about formalities today.”

She obediently began to eat, pondering why Father had suddenly switched to this gentle mode.

Watching her eat, he sighed suddenly.

“The mountains are high and the roads long. It will be hard to arrange for you to have snacks like this in the future.”

She held a small rabbit-shaped treat, its head bitten off to reveal the pink sugar-hawthorn filling inside, staring blankly at Father.

Suddenly, she began to understand his thoughts.

He was hinting for her to lower her head.

The journey would be difficult and arduous—no burden for a thirteen-year-old child. This was an unmistakable punishment. Why was she being punished?

Because she was disobedient, rebellious, unaware that the most important thing for imperial princesses before marriage was to win their father’s favor.

He could have ignored her, left her in some cramped courtyard of the palace to fend for herself. But she possessed auspicious signs he valued—her birth, her early talents, and the Taoist prophecies made her his “celestial fruit.” This deeply religious father was troubled.

His belief in Taoism demanded caution in dealing with her, his imperial role required her obedience, and with “father’s” authority in hand, this complicated mixture created the warm yet strange scene before them.

She was his daughter, a token of his path to immortality, yet she still had to lower her head—humbly submit before her sovereign!

Therefore, in this splendid, exquisitely crafted Yanfu Palace, he met with her and gave her these delicate, delicious snacks, all simply to coax an apology from her.

Whether spoken or not, to make a child admit fault required such effort—it could be praised as filial and kind.

“I wish to ascend the immortal mountains and pray for you, Father,” she said earnestly, setting down her snack, “and for the Great Song.”

Father looked deeply moved. “You are naturally filial, and I see it clearly. How could I not care for you in my heart?”

“After I leave, I will only worry about your health,” her eyes reddened, “Father, please take care of yourself, eat well. When I go to Xingyuan Prefecture, I will write letters often—”

Unaware that his obedient daughter had secretly copied and pasted some of these words, he spoke with emotion, “But it is hard for you, Yo-yo. Alas, if not for dissent in court—”

“I am not afraid of hardship,” she choked up, “I have cultivated the Way since childhood. How could I care for worldly wealth and fame?”

Her father’s passionate words faltered. His gaze was filled with a look that said, “Are you truly foolish or just pretending? Truly stubborn or merely acting?”

But considering she was indeed his daughter, and those troubles might not have been her own doing, he finally asked honestly:

“Yo-yo, you will leave for Xingyuan Prefecture, not return for years. Are you truly not weary?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head, “I have not spoken wrongly or done wrong. I have never complained.”

The conversation died there—at least, His Majesty’s expression indicated as much.

The surrounding palace maids and attendants silently slipped back into the shadows, and the birds outside fell silent.

Zhao Luming obediently set down her snack and stood to salute.

“Before you leave the capital,” he spoke again, voice cool, “do you have any last wishes?”

She thought for a moment.

“I want to see the capital with my own eyes.”

Her steps were small, her voice soft—after all, she was only a twelve or thirteen-year-old girl, just a little deer.

Yet her back was straight, her pace swift, as if the wind followed her steps—not like a little deer, but a young stag with growing antlers.

This imperial princess, who had never worn fine silk or a golden hairpin, walked her own path, indifferent to the splendor behind her.

His Majesty sat in his chair, staring at the finely carved birds in a daze.

“What does the Crown Prince say?”

Liang Shicheng stepped out cautiously, “The Crown Prince is a devoted man. He has grown thin from worry over the matter of Yuwen Shizhong these days.”

“Then he should be shown some face,” His Majesty said. “Grant Yuwen Shizhong the rank of Left Central Grand Master.”

“That is a tremendous favor!” Liang Shicheng could no longer contain his excitement. Yuwen Shizhong was only a sixth-rank official as a scholar; Grand Master was fifth rank! This wasn’t a demotion—it was a promotion!

Of course, Left Central Grand Master was just a prelude. His Majesty added:

“Make him Pacification Commissioner of Lizhou Circuit and place him in charge of Xingyuan Prefecture affairs.”