NO MATTER HOW OBLIVIOUS Mo Xi might be, it was impossible to misunderstand Eunuch Li's suggestive tone at this point. Seething, he turned around, only to find that the sly old fox had already made himself scarce. Mo Xi was rendered speechless. He sighed as he entered the hall and crossed to Mengze's desk. "What are you doing here?"
The night was cold and crisp, and Mengze's health was frail, so she wore a pale blue coat even indoors. She coughed, then said warmly, "Imperial Brother is ill. In the past few days he hasn't had time to go through the memorials, so I came to assist."
Murong Mengze, a mere woman, had not risen to the position of one of Chonghua's three gentlemen without reason. She treated the common people with lenience and virtue, was well-versed in matters both political and military, and was no man's inferior when it came to the management of a nation. Though she was physically frail, it was only because she had healed Mo Xi years ago and succumbed to a chronic ailment afterward. Before that, both her magical abilities and the strength of her spiritual energy reflected an extraordinary innate talent that left her contemporaries, male or female, in the dust. She could no longer fight on the front lines these days, but she could still sit in the command tent. If only the Nine Provinces had a precedent of women rulers, the emperor likely would've bestowed on her an official title and the accompanying authority to exercise her true capabilities.
Regrettably, women were still women in the eyes of too many; in their opinion, ladies should be arranging their hair in a window or making themselves up in a mirror. Even if they excelled in scholarship or strategy, it would be better to devote themselves to their husbands, fathers, or brothers—the real court officials. What need was there for any girl to show her face in public?
Thus, though Murong Mengze was of royal blood, the first princess of a nation, people would usually only mention her to say, Oh, that's Xihe-jun's future wife—they just haven't tied the knot yet. Though the healing techniques and military stratagems she'd devised in her youth were impressive, the public's most positive impression of her boiled down to "infatuated princess who sacrificed herself for her one true love."
And so the emperor had very little choice: in spite of Mengze's pure and noble character, her talent and her righteous nature, he could give her no important responsibilities.
Still, he was loath to hand these memorials, so central to imperial power, off to other nobles. His spirit was willing, but his body was weak. At a glance it was clear that, out of all his close siblings and cousins, he only had Murong Lian to rely on besides Mengze and Yanping.
There was no question of Yanping's capabilities. She had an ample bosom but no brain. Out of ten young masters she would sleep with nine; Young Master Mo was the only one who'd decline. She might do well if tasked with drawing erotic pictures, but the idea of having her look at military reports was laughable.
As for Murong Lian… Even ignoring the fact that his paternal grandfather had his own designs on the throne, the previous emperor had genuinely considered adopting Murong Lian as a son and naming him crown prince in the current emperor's stead. The emperor was destined to hold a grudge toward him.
Which left only Mengze.
Murong Mengze was clever, wise, clear-headed, and competent. She was unfortunately female, but who was to say this misfortune wasn't the emperor's greatest comfort? In the world as it stood, women could make no sweeping changes. They couldn't accumulate influence or win support; they had no mechanism whereby they could gather power into their own hands. As long as this woman remained unwed, the closest man to her on earth was her eldest brother, the emperor himself. Thus, with Mengze, he felt utterly at ease.
Mengze coaxed the candles in the library to burn brighter and turned to speak gently to her handmaiden. "Yue-niang, a pot of spring tea for Xihe-jun."
"Yes."
Yue-niang darted off and swiftly returned with a tray laden with tea and desserts. She arranged each item with care and smiled. "Xihejun, please enjoy. This servant will remain outside, awaiting orders." The handmaiden's gauzy red skirts fluttered as she left the room, and the sandalwood library doors creaked shut behind her.
Mo Xi lowered himself into a seat. "How is His Imperial Majesty? How did he fall ill so suddenly?" he asked.
"He won't say, and he doesn't allow the healers from Shennong Terrace to say much either." Mengze sighed. "I only know he was bedridden for the past few days… But it's nothing serious. I was permitted to visit him this morning. The most dangerous phase has passed, but he's still weak. I'm afraid it'll be another three or four days of recovery." She paused, then looked inquiringly at Mo Xi. "Mo-dage, did you come to report on the results of the mission?"
"Yes."
Mengze looked concerned. "Did everything go smoothly?"
Mo Xi gave her a heavily edited account: "Yue Chenqing and the others were wounded, but they've already gone to Medicine Master Jiang for treatment. There were no other issues."
"That's good." Mengze let out a breath. "But I'm afraid Imperial Brother won't be well enough to see you for a few days. Mo-dage should write a report when you return home; I'll pass it to him on your behalf."
Mo Xi thanked her. Seeing how tired she looked, swamped with documents, he wanted to help her with the memorials. But if the emperor had handed these to Mengze instead of assigning them to his officials, they were scrolls he didn't wish others to see. "It's getting late, so I'll be heading back. You should get some rest as soon as you finish."
Mengze's pretty eyes shone as she smiled. "Leaving so soon? You won't keep me company a while longer?"
Mo Xi didn't reply.
"I'm just teasing, Mo-dage. Look at you, so travel-worn—how could I have the heart to make you stay with me?" Mengze coughed lightly a few more times, covering her mouth, then added warmly, "You should return."
Rising, Mo Xi looked down at her. "The night's cold and wet. Have Yue-niang bring you another robe."
Mengze smiled. "I will."
Mo Xi took his leave. He'd no sooner walked through the library doors than Yue-niang stepped back in. She had served Mengze for many years; in front of others she was a deferential servant, but the minute she was alone with Mengze she let her tongue loose, unable to hide her thoughts. As she looked back at the doors through which Mo Xi had departed, she stamped her foot, plainly dissatisfied. "My lady —"
"What is it?"
"Why did you let Xihe-jun go? Look, you've been back in the city for so long, but this is the first time the two of you have been alone together, and you didn't even try to keep him." Yue-niang pursed her lips in a moue of disappointment. "You should at least ask him to stay for dinner or something," she mumbled.
Mengze dipped her brush into the ink stone, speaking as she wrote. "Why would I keep him? He doesn't wish to be with me."
"How could that be? His spiritual core came at the cost of your health! My lady, if you ask Xihe-jun to go west, he definitely wouldn't turn east instead. The kindness you did him—he owes you an enormous debt!"
Mengze smiled. "It was only kindness. I don't plan on demanding repayment."
"What is my lady saying? Of course he must repay it!" Faced with Mengze's indifference, Yue-niang grew anxious. "Xihe-jun is handsome and courageous, and his reputation is excellent too. I heard that in the three years he was stationed on the northern frontier, he didn't touch a single woman, unlike those other young masters who have concubines lined up in rows. You'd be fortunate to marry a husband like that. Leave him be, and a mob of witches will be clawing at each other to become his wife or concubine… How can we let that happen?" The longer she spoke, the more fretful she became. "I won't stand for it, I won't! He can marry our princess and no one else! He can't be allowed to flirt with any other maiden!"
Mengze listened to the girl shouting insolently but continued writing without a word. Only after a long while did she casually ask, "Yue-er thinks Xihe-jun is very handsome too?"
"Of course he's—" Yue-niang realized she had been too bold and hastily backpedaled. "No no no, Xihe-jun is like a holy deity. It's not this servant's place to speak of him."
Mengze smiled as she pressed a seal to a silk memorial scroll on behalf of her brother and blew the cinnabar ink dry. "Don't worry," she said. "You don't have to say it; I know you girls all like men like him. Tall, righteous, and reliable—all good things."
Yue-niang spoke nervously. "My lady, even if this servant had a thousand, ten thousand times more courage, I wouldn't dare… wouldn't dare…"
"What are you frightened of?" Mengze asked kindly. "It's only chat, and I'm only picking a few of his good traits as an example. But Yue-er, have you never thought why such a remarkable person has yet to wed at his age?"
"It's because m-my lady remains indisposed," Yue-niang mumbled.
"Why is it my fault?" Mengze looked up, still smiling. "If he truly wanted to marry, he would have requested permission from His Imperial Majesty long ago." Her smile faded. "He doesn't want to. That's why he's been dragging it out."
"And that's why this servant wants my lady and Xihe-jun to spend more time together! Look—the two of you rarely have any chance to meet." Yue-niang paused and bit her lip as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "And, my lady, you don't know, but I've heard people talk. While you were away, Princess Yanping tried to s-se—"
Yanping was still a princess; no matter how close Yue-niang was to Mengze, she didn't dare say the word seduce. In the end, she mumbled over it. "She tried to do that to Xihe-jun. Look at the initiative she's taking, my lady! Why are you still pushing Xihe-jun away? Don't you know you're the only reason he's alive right now? If it were me, I'd feel it wasn't worth it!"
Mengze shook her head. "A melon torn from the vine isn't sweet. I won't force him into it."
"My lady!" Yue-niang sounded indignant. "Ah, but given…given your health… If Xihe-jun doesn't ask for your hand now, how long does he plan to make you wait?"
"Don't talk nonsense." Mengze's voice was stern as she set down the brush. "Xihe-jun and I are not betrothed; who is making anyone wait?"
"But—"
"I don't want to hear you speak of this again."
Yue-niang bit her soft lip. In the end, she hung her head, dejected. "…Yes, my lady."
Taking up her brush, Mengze unrolled a new memorial. For a while, it was quiet inside the library. Yet soon Yue-niang started muttering sulkily once more. "Xihe-jun's so callous and ungrateful. He's already got another girl behind my lady's back—the shame he's brought to my lady!"
The tip of Mengze's brush stilled over the scroll. She looked up. "What do you mean by this?"
Yue-niang looked as if she was bursting to speak, but also as if it were unbearable to say. She held her tongue under Mengze's clear gaze for a long moment before finally blurting out, "His hair ribbon!"
"Hm?"
Yue-niang took a deep breath. "I wouldn't expect my lady to notice, but this servant is used to waiting on people; I always take note of the masters' clothes and ornaments. The hair ribbon Xihe-jun wore today was obviously not his own—it was raw silk, something only commoners use. But the embroidery was very fine, so it's a little tart who likes pretty things and dresses above her station…"
The words had already left her mouth, so Yue-niang barreled ahead with her eyes red and her cheeks puffed in a pout. "I could tell right away it belongs to some poor hussy who seduced Xihe-jun with her common wiles! You're the only one who could be calm about this! This girl's ribbon has already made it into Xihe-jun's hair-knot—how close must they be?! Yet you don't see it! I-I-I, I'm so mad I could die! How could he betray you like this!"
Mengze didn't say anything. Her brush had soaked up too much ink; a black splotch landed on the scroll and left a dark stain. She lowered her pretty face to dip her brush again. "It's only a hair ribbon," she said in a low voice. "Maybe he just wanted to try something new. Don't think too much on it."
"You know how much of a rule-follower he is; he's not that kind of person!"
"Enough."
Yue-niang fell silent.
Mengze looked up at her. "No more of this," she said blandly. "Yue-er, come here and grind some ink for me."
"…Yes, my lady."