The twenty-seventh day of the second month, the first year of Zhengde.
The sky wasn't even light yet, but I was awake. To be precise, I hadn't slept all night.
The person in the bronze mirror wore the blue-green female official's uniform, the plum blossom on the collar embroidered finely, glowing with a dull silver light in the candlelight. Hair combed, hairpin inserted, everything was ready. My hands were shaking.
Footsteps came from outside the door. Liu Jin's voice was very low: "Jiang Li, His Majesty says don't be nervous. He said, he is here."
I took a deep breath. He is here.
The path from the ear room to the Fengtian Hall, I had walked it many times. But never once had it been this long. The lanterns under the corridor were still lit, their orange light spreading on the ground like a river. Palace maids and eunuchs stood on both sides, heads bowed, not daring to look at me. But I could feel their gazes—peeking from under lowered eyelids, like invisible threads, wrapping around me.
The doors of the Fengtian Hall were open. The candle flames inside had gone out, morning light shining through the window lattice, drawing grid-like shadows on the golden brick floor. Civil and military officials lined up on both sides, crimson, cyan, green, layer by layer, lining up from inside the hall to outside. No one spoke. I stood at the very back of the Imperial Hospital row, lowered my head, looking at the tip of my shoes. Palms full of sweat, heart beating very fast, like it wanted to jump out of my throat.
Zhu Houzhao walked out from behind the hall. He wore ceremonial robes, a crown, the dark robe embroidered with sun, moon, stars, and five-clawed golden dragons. The jade beads on the crown swayed back and forth, glowing with a dull light in the morning light. He walked past the imperial steps, sat on the dragon chair. The crown beads hid his eyes, but I saw his hand resting on the armrest, knuckles white—same as that day at the Qianqing Palace door.
"Rise, all ministers." His voice wasn't loud, but in the vast hall, every character was clear.
The officials rose. Silence for a moment.
"Today, I have a decree," Zhu Houzhao said. Liu Jin walked forward from the side, unfolded the yellow silk, his voice sharp and long: "By the grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees—"
"Wait."
A voice came from the civil officials' ranks. Minister of Rites Liu Jian stepped out of the queue, holding an ivory tablet, standing in the center of the hall. He was over sixty, hair gray, wrinkles on his face like knife cuts, one by one. The golden pheasant badge on the front of his crimson official robe shone in the morning light—that was the mark of the second rank. He stood there, spine very straight, like an old pine tree.
"Your Majesty," his voice old and firm, every word rolling out of his chest, "I dare ask, this decree, who does it establish as Empress?"
The air in the court suddenly froze. No one spoke, no one moved. Even breathing couldn't be heard.
Zhu Houzhao's voice came from behind the crown beads, very even. "Palace maid Jiang."
Liu Jian held his ivory tablet higher. "Your Majesty, the Empress is the mother of the nation, should be selected from noble families. Palace maid origin, unheard of! This is ancestral system, cannot be violated!"
"Which part of the ancestral system wrote this?" Zhu Houzhao asked. Voice still even.
Liu Jian was stunned. "This—"
"Which scroll, which chapter, which line? Read it to me."
Liu Jian opened his mouth, couldn't speak. His hands trembled slightly, but his waist was still held very straight. The four characters "Loyal to the Monarch, Love the Country" were carved on the tablet, bestowed by the late Emperor. His fingers rubbed those four characters, as if looking for strength.
"Your Majesty," he said, "Although the ancestral system has no explicit text, since ancient times, Empresses have all come from noble families. This old servant served the late Emperor for over twenty years, witnessed the revival of the Hongzhi era with my own eyes. Before the late Emperor passed away, he held this old servant's hand and said: 'Liu Jian, you must assist the Crown Prince well.' This old servant dares not forget. Your Majesty's action today, if this old servant cannot advise, how can I face the late Emperor underground?"
His voice grew heavier and heavier, the last few characters almost shouted out. He knelt down. Knees heavily hitting the golden brick floor, making a dull "thump" sound. He supported himself with both hands, forehead almost touching the ground.
"Please, Your Majesty, reconsider!"
Behind him, several ministers also knelt down. From the Ministry of Rites, the Hanlin Academy, the Censorate—one, two, three, more and more. Crimson and cyan official robes lowered in patches, like wheat fields blown down by wind. But there were also those who didn't kneel. Minister of War Liu Daxia stood in place, gaze complex. He looked at Zhu Houzhao, then looked at me, finally sighed lightly, didn't move.
The court was extremely quiet. Zhu Houzhao didn't speak. His hand gripped the dragon chair armrest, knuckles white.
I stood at the very back of the Imperial Hospital row, looking at those kneeling backs. They knelt neatly, like rows of cut-down trees. No one looked at me, no one looked anywhere. They only looked at the ground.
My palms were full of sweat. Heart beating very fast, fast enough that I could hear my own blood roaring in my ears. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. His Majesty needs me. I cannot retreat.
I lifted my foot, step by step walking toward the center of the hall. Legs under the skirt trembled slightly, but steps grew steadier. By the time I realized it, I was standing beside Liu Jian. Standing beside those kneeling people. Standing in the center of all gazes.
I didn't kneel.
I lifted my head, looking at Zhu Houzhao on the dragon chair. The crown beads hid his eyes, but I saw his hand stop. Didn't continue to clench, didn't loosen either.
"This servant Jiang Li," I said. Voice not loud, but in the vast hall, every character was clear. My hand clenched in my sleeve, fingernails almost digging into flesh. But voice surprisingly calm. "Has a few words, wants to ask Minister Liu."
Liu Jian lifted his head to look at me. In his gaze was surprise, disdain, and a kind of—I couldn't describe, but it made my back prickle.
"You?" His voice carried a hint of trembling.
"Yes," I looked at him, "Minister Liu says, palace maid origin, not fit to be Empress. Then this servant wants to ask, what kind of person, is fit?"
Liu Jian didn't answer.
"This servant saved the Crown Prince," I said, "when the Imperial Hospital didn't dare to act. The Crown Prince's arm was broken, bone poking out, Imperial Hospital knelt on the ground, no one dared to touch. It was this servant who set the bone. This is fact."
Someone in the court inhaled sharply. Liu Jian's face turned a shade paler.
"This servant investigated the fake medicine," I said, "from the Henghe Hall account books to the Tongzhou warehouse. Following the vine to find the melon, investigated Liu An, Wang De, then Wang Chang, Zheng Hong, finally traced to Li Dongyang's student. In this process, every step had evidence, every step had witnesses. This is also fact."
Liu Jian's face turned from pale to gray. He knelt there, lips trembling. The four characters "Loyal to the Monarch, Love the Country" on the tablet trembled slightly under his fingers.
"This servant watched over the late Emperor," I said, "in those last few days of the late Emperor, stood guard at the Qianqing Palace door. When the late Emperor coughed blood, it was this servant who handed the handkerchief. When the late Emperor said 'I am tired,' it was this servant who heard it. This is still fact."
I turned around, looking at those kneeling ministers. Their gazes lifted from the ground, falling on me, like being pricked by needles.
"Everything this servant did, is worthy of heaven and conscience. This servant does not seek the position of Empress. But His Majesty needs someone by his side. If you ministers think this servant is not fit, then please tell this servant—what kind of person is fit? Is it people who only know how to kneel on the ground and say 'ancestral system'?"
The court was extremely quiet. So quiet one could hear the jade beads on the crown lightly clashing, ding ding, like wind chimes. Liu Jian's lips trembled, but didn't speak. Several ministers behind him also lowered their heads, no one dared to look up.
I stood there, palms full of sweat, legs trembling. But I didn't retreat.
Footsteps came from behind. Very light, very steady. Zhu Houzhao stood up from the dragon chair, slowly walking down the imperial steps. The hem of the ceremonial robe dragged on the golden brick floor, rustling. The jade beads on the crown swayed lightly, glowing with fine light in the morning light. He walked to my side, stopped. Gaze fell on me. That gaze was like winter sunlight, warm and firm.
His hand reached over, held my hand. His hand was very hot, same as that day on the roof. He looked down at my hand, frowned slightly.
"Hurt?" he asked softly.
"No pain."
"Liar." He smiled, fingertips lightly rubbing the back of my hand, "Almost squeezed blood out."
He lifted his head, looking at Liu Jian, looking at those kneeling ministers.
"My Empress," he said, voice not loud, but every character very clear, "is her. You agree, she is Empress. You disagree, she is also Empress."
He tightened his grip on my hand, turned and walked out. I followed behind. Walking out of the Fengtian Hall, sunlight shone on my face, stinging my eyes until I squinted. Red plums under the corridor were in full bloom, each one like a burning flame. Petals fell on our shoulders, like a red snow. His hand still held mine, didn't let go.
"Scared?" he asked. Voice very light, completely different from just now in court.
"A little."
"Me too." He pulled a dried lychee from his sleeve, stuffed it into my hand. "But worth it."
I looked down at the dried lychee in my hand. Shell hard, carrying his warmth. Sunlight spilled through plum branches, stretching our shadows long, then overlapping, indistinguishable from each other.
"From now on," he said softly, "you are my Empress."
He held my hand, walked down the steps. Red plum petals fell on our shoulders, fell on his dark ceremonial robe, fell on my blue-green sleeve.
He didn't look back. I didn't either.
(End of Chapter 35)