Chapter 111

Chapter 111

The imperial carriage departed from Yizhou City, traversing Guangyuan, Hanzhong, Jinzhou, and Yunyang before crossing the Han and Dan Rivers to enter Xia County. After a circuitous journey of over 3,500 miles, it finally returned to the vicinity of the capital, with only four hundred *li* remaining—a journey of at most five or six more days.

The imperial carriage had set out in the warm spring of March, but it was now the bitter cold of the Laba Festival.

The official post station in Xia County was relatively spacious, but in winter, it relied on *kang* beds and charcoal for warmth, lacking the heated floor systems used in the palace or the mansions of noble families in the capital.

After dinner, Emperor Xingwu kept his two children with him. Sitting before the charcoal brazier and warming his hands, he said, "Actually, after leaving Yunyang, heading east would have taken us out of the mountains. The route back to the capital via Nanyang would have been smooth and easy. Yet I deliberately brought you along this mountainous path. Do you know why?"

Qingyang sat on the other side of the charcoal brazier, mimicking her father by stretching her hands toward the fire. Hearing his question, she glanced at her Second Brother.

Even though her Second Brother’s answers had rarely satisfied their father during this journey, he always replied with unwavering confidence. As his younger sister, Qingyang felt it wasn’t her place to speak before him.

Qin Bing answered without hesitation, "The more mountainous the county, the poorer it tends to be. And the poorer it is, the more necessary it is to see whether the county magistrates are properly fulfilling their roles as parent-like officials."

There was another reason: their father intentionally chose difficult paths to temper them through the hardships of travel.

Emperor Xingwu’s lips twitched slightly. Even nine months of the Southern Tour hadn’t filled his second son’s head with more insight—yet, in a way, that was a talent in itself.

He turned to his younger daughter.

Qingyang said, "What Second Brother said is one reason. Additionally, returning to the capital via Xia County will take us past the Funiu Mountains and Xiong’er Mountains. These two ranges serve as natural barriers to the southwest of the capital. Father, you want Second Brother and me to familiarize ourselves with the mountainous terrain here, so that if war breaks out in the future, we can deploy troops and devise strategies based on the landscape."

During the northern inspection, their father had already taken them along the route from the capital to Chang’an. This Southern Tour allowed her and her Second Brother to personally survey the terrain surrounding the capital.

Emperor Xingwu did not praise his younger daughter but instead cast a sideways glance at his second son.

Qin Bing showed no shame at his incorrect answer. Instead, he grew excited, stood up, and said, "Then I’ll go study the maps of this area carefully!"

Emperor Xingwu did not stop him. Only after the sound of footsteps faded away did he sigh to his younger daughter, "Your Second Brother, at best, will only ever become a combat general who charges into battle. He lacks the qualities of a strategic commander."

Qingyang smiled and said, "Generals and commanders each have their strengths. It’s already impressive that Second Brother can become a fierce general."

A cold wind blew outside the window, its howling sound enough to make one shiver. Emperor Xingwu took down his daughter’s cloak hanging nearby and personally draped it over her shoulders, pulling up the hood. "Come," he said, "I’ll walk you back."

Qingyang replied, "It’s just the side room next door. Father, you should rest early."

Emperor Xingwu insisted on accompanying his daughter. Qingyang, in turn, took down her father’s cloak and smilingly helped him into it.

Father and daughter walked out one after the other. A cold wind blew toward them, and Emperor Xingwu automatically positioned himself to shield his daughter.

After just a few steps, they reached the side room where the little princess was staying. Emperor Xingwu checked the charcoal brazier in the main room, then entered his daughter’s bedroom. He first felt under the already laid-out bedding to ensure it was sufficiently warm, then glanced at the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone prepared on the desk. "On such a cold day, you still plan to write?" he asked.

If his daughter hadn’t given prior instructions, Jie Yu and Fu Liu wouldn’t have dared to take it upon themselves to prepare these.

Qingyang said, "...It’s a habit. I’ll write for half an hour at most. Don’t worry, Father."

Emperor Xingwu was not reassured. Walking to the desk, he noticed several books laid out there: two volumes of Ban Gu’s *Book of Han: Treatise on Geography*, two volumes of Li Daoyuan’s *Commentary on the Waterways Classic*, and five manuscript books titled by his daughter. Named *Southern Tour*, they were divided into *Mountain Chapter*, *Water Chapter*, *Officials Chapter*, *People Chapter*, and *Products Chapter*.

Emperor Xingwu was stunned.

Qingyang directly pushed her father out. "There are still a few hundred *li* left to write about. Let me finish first, then I’ll ask for your guidance."

Emperor Xingwu said with great emotion, "My Lin-er is already writing books. My limited knowledge is not qualified to offer you guidance."

Qingyang replied, "It’s just a casual record of what I saw and heard during the Southern Tour—it can’t be called writing a book. If you keep teasing me, I won’t show it to you."

With these words, the little princess had already pushed her father out of the main room. Urging him to rest early, Qingyang closed the door with a smile from the inside.

Emperor Xingwu raised his voice, "I’ll come check back in half an hour. If your light is still on, I’ll have your mother come deal with you."

Qingyang didn’t believe her father would have the heart to pull her mother out of her warm bed. At most, he would send He Yuanjing.

On the morning of the thirteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, Emperor Xingwu, who had been away from the capital for nearly a year, finally returned.

The Crown Prince led the civil and military officials to greet him outside the city. Finally home, Emperor Xingwu was in a rather good mood. But the moment he stepped out of the carriage and stood on the shaft, he noticed the Crown Prince’s unusual expression—evasive, though not like someone fearing reprimand.

Emperor Xingwu then looked behind the Crown Prince. At that glance, he saw that even his brother Prince Yong dared not meet his eyes. Yet, after a brief moment of eye contact, this brother—who wouldn’t cry out in pain even if stabbed—had reddened eyes.

Emperor Xingwu’s heart sank. He quickly scanned the faces of Yan Xizheng, Yang Zhimin, Lü Zan, and others, who lowered their heads to avoid his gaze, then looked toward the younger generation. Qin Liang, Fu Kui, and Xue Yanzheng were all there—only Deng Kun and Deng Tai were missing, these two brothers who would never absent themselves from greeting the emperor without reason.

Emperor Xingwu took a step back, bracing himself against the carriage. He lowered his gaze for a long time before finally looking up and asking, "Speak. When did the Duke of Ding pass away?"

Qin Hong knelt on the ground, tears falling as he said, "Three days ago. The Duke of Ding was critically ill. Before his death, he specifically instructed that no one was to inform Your Majesty, lest it disturb your Southern Tour... I beg Your Majesty to restrain your grief and preserve your imperial health!"

The civil and military officials, who had already knelt, echoed in unison, urging the emperor to restrain his grief.

Emperor Xingwu could not. This was Deng Chong—a brother closer to him than his own blood brother, a fierce general once as robust as a tiger or wolf, originally even hardier than this emperor who was constantly occupied with state affairs. It was only because he had been sent to campaign against Biao State that he contracted tropical diseases, turned gray-haired while still in his fifties, and died so prematurely...

"Prepare my horse," Emperor Xingwu said, still looking upward, instructing Fan Zhong, who stood guard by the carriage.

Fan Zhong, his eyes red, brought the emperor’s horse.

Emperor Xingwu directly mounted from the carriage shaft. Turning his head to his younger daughter, who prepared to follow, he said, "I will bid farewell to the Duke of Ding. Lin-er, accompany your mother back to the palace first."

With that, he urged his horse toward the city gate. Fan Zhong shot a glance at Zhang Su before following closely behind Prince Jing to accompany His Majesty.

With the emperor gone, the civil and military officials who had come to greet him gradually rose to their feet. Since the Crown Prince was to accompany the emperor to the Duke of Ding’s residence, the officials did the same.

Qingyang instructed Zhang Su, Fan Huaizhong, and others to continue escorting her and her mother back to the palace. She then boarded her mother’s carriage.

Consort Li’s carriage was right behind the imperial carriage. Having heard what happened, Consort Li wept out of concern for the emperor the moment her daughter boarded. "When the Duke of Cheng passed away, your father was as if he had lost his soul. This time..."

Qingyang sat beside her mother, holding her shoulders as her mother leaned against her. Listening to her mother’s quiet weeping and remembering how her father had mourned for Lü Guangzu all those years ago, Qingyang’s heart felt heavy.

The return of the imperial carriage to the capital should have been a joyous occasion, but the passing of the fifty-six-year-old Duke of Ding, Deng Chong, cast a pall over the entire court.

Emperor Xingwu, returning to the palace from the Deng residence, instructed the Crown Prince to continue governing and then isolated himself in the Qianyuan Palace, refusing to see anyone. Even on the day of Deng Chong’s burial, the gates of Qianyuan Palace remained closed.

Consort Li sought an audience three times a day, but He Yuanjing only shook his head. Qingyang went morning and evening to pay respects, but He Yuanjing still did not dare admit the little princess. If even they faced such treatment, it was no surprise that the imperial consort, Crown Prince, Prince Jing, and others were consistently denied entry.

Seeing that the next day would again require morning court and her father still refused to emerge from seclusion in Qianyuan Palace, Qingyang sent Jie Yu to Qianyuan Palace that evening.

Though he knew Jie Yu’s words were not real, He Yuanjing had no choice but to relay them. Addressing the emperor, who lay unwilling to move on the dragon bed, he said, "Your Majesty, Jie Yu just reported that the princess has fallen ill and could not even eat dinner."

The emperor under the covers turned over, facing inward.

He Yuanjing sighed and said to the emperor’s back, "This old servant ought to advise Your Majesty, but I feel there is no one in the world who cares for the little princess more than you do. What need is there for this old servant to say more?"

Emperor Xingwu said, "It’s obviously made up. What illness?"

He Yuanjing replied, "The illness might be made up, but skipping dinner may not be."

Emperor Xingwu: "..."

What was the harm in missing one meal? When he was young, he had gone hungry almost every day, and he had turned out just fine.

A quarter of an hour later, Emperor Xingwu, stone-faced, returned to Qianyuan Palace. He docilely permitted He Yuanjing to drape the cloak over him before setting out for Jiuhua Palace—lest he risk a scolding from his younger daughter for not wearing it.

Qingyang had already instructed the kitchen to prepare the broth and side dishes for the hot pot. As soon as her father arrived, she led him to the warm chamber and called for the meal to be served.

Emperor Xingwu glanced at his daughter and asked listlessly, "Weren't you sick? Why not even pretend a little?"

Qingyang replied, "Even if I pretended, I couldn’t fool you, Father. Why bother going through the motions? But it’s been days since I last saw you. If you hadn’t shown up tonight, I might have truly fallen ill from missing you."

Emperor Xingwu made a light spitting gesture to the side and said, "The New Year is almost here—don’t say such unlucky things."

When he looked up after spitting, he saw his daughter gazing at him with wide, worried eyes. Perhaps he looked too haggard, for her eyes were filled with concern.

Emperor Xingwu waved his hand dismissively, lowered his gaze, and said, "That's just what happens when you get old. I’ll be better in a couple of days. Don’t worry, Lin-er."

Qingyang said, "You’ve been through so much, yet even you couldn’t help grieving for Duke of Ding. I’m only in my teens—how could I not worry about you? If I didn’t, wouldn’t you be heartbroken to have such an unfeeling daughter?"

Emperor Xingwu fell silent.

Just then, Jie Yu led the kitchen staff in carrying a steaming hot pot.

Emperor Xingwu was surprised by how well his daughter was eating.

After Jie Yu and the others withdrew, Qingyang began cooking meat for her father and said, "You’re the adult here, Father. It’s time to be sensible. You mustn’t let your wives, children, and all your ministers worry day and night over the loss of an old friend. Eat heartily now, and after you’re done, go stay with Mother. These past few days, she’s truly had no appetite and has lost visible weight."

Emperor Xingwu replied, "...So, your mother is the one in the palace who cares about me the most. I've spoiled you for nothing all these years."

Qingyang retorted, "That’s because you’ve doted on Mother six more years than you have on me. Isn’t it only natural that she worries about you more than I do?"

Emperor Xingwu said, "Following that reasoning, after Zhang Su has been your husband for decades, you’ll care more about him than me, right?"

The young princess slammed her chopsticks down and glared at her father across the table. "Say one more word like that and just see what happens!"

Seeing the tears welling up instantly in his daughter’s eyes, Emperor Xingwu quickly picked up his chopsticks and started cooking meat for her. "I won’t say it again, I won’t. Come on, have some meat!"