Chapter 51: Your Grace... So Beautiful
A square-jawed face, a broad mouth—Liang Jing's first impression was one of boldness, a man of upright bearing. Watching a group of officials inspecting every corner of his home, Liang Jing’s expression grew cold. “Are you done yet?”
Zhang An stood right beside him and smiled at his words. “There’s naturally nothing amiss in Junior Military Official Liang’s household. This is simply routine procedure.”
Liang Jing had once mingled as an official in the provinces and had only recently arrived in Chang’an. Now, he held a minor post as a warehouse assistant in the Imperial Guards, merely biding his time.
He cast a sidelong glance at Zhang An, then uttered a single word, slowly and deliberately.
“Get out.”
Far off, Xin Quan said quietly to Zhao Sanfu, “If you want to curry favor and gain benefits, you must also bear the risks of flattery. Nobles don’t hand you favors for nothing—either you can do something for them, or… you’re just a dog.”
A dog, called and ordered about by its master!
“So you didn’t go to give your report earlier?” Zhao Sanfu asked.
Xin Quan’s face creased with deeper lines. “More often than not, what you think is a clever move is nothing but a fart in the eyes of those above you.”
The inspection ended, and nothing came of it.
The next day, the Imperial Consort left the palace.
Zhaoguo Ward was under the jurisdiction of Wannian County, so Yang Xuan arrived early with two subordinates outside the palace gates.
“The Imperial Consort is coming out!” cried a plump, fair-skinned eunuch, and the soldiers bowed their heads.
The Consort sat within her carriage, unseen by all. Yang Xuan wondered why they still had to bow. On reflection, it seemed the nobility simply relished the sight of the common folk cowering in awe before them.
“Born of the same blood, yet she rides high above while you bow below—how exhilarating that must feel for her,” Suzaku, for once not making lewd jokes, turned venom-tongued.
The Emperor, doting on his favorite… no, his favorite consort, sent out the Imperial Guards in full force.
The soldiers of the Imperial Guards lined the streets, sparsely yet imposing. The commoners, kept behind barriers, looked on with envy, jealousy, and resentment.
“Damn it, what’s the use of having a son? You’d be better off with a daughter. If she’s lucky and enters the palace, the whole family prospers.”
Suzaku murmured in Yang Xuan’s ear, “The Han Emperor cherished beauty, thinking of kingdoms lost; he ruled for years, but desire was never fulfilled…”
“You’re rather talkative today,” Yang Xuan said quietly.
Silence fell.
Then—
“Am I talking more, or is someone else talking less?”
They arrived at Zhaoguo Ward.
“Sister!”
Brother and sister met in tears.
“They’re crying,” Yang Xuan mused, recalling the emotional dramas he’d watched lately.
“They’ll be shedding blood later,” Suzaku had lately adopted a new style.
“Blood?” Yang Xuan was puzzled.
“That troublemaker… never mind, why are you so dense? Go reread ‘Dream of the Red Chamber.’ When the Jia family received the Empress Dowager, the stage collapsed.”
“You’re a woman, be reserved. Mind your language.”
“I can be man or woman, salty or sweet…”
Brother and sister, speechless, choked with emotion…
Zhao Sanfu sidled up behind Yang Xuan. “In truth, this Junior Military Official Liang often visits the palace to see the Consort.”
Those who saw each other frequently now acted as though they’d been parted for years—the scene was touching, even sorrowful.
Yang Xuan whispered, “If one does not weep at the Emperor’s grace… can it truly be called gratitude?”
This was a play.
The director was in the palace, the stars on the stage, while Yang Xuan and his fellows were the expendable extras and the audience.
Soon, the Consort wished to rest, and everyone hastened to escort her inside.
“They only spoke a few words—how can she already be tired?” Wen Xinshu was puzzled.
“Noblefolk have many affairs,” Zhao Guolin replied.
“More like they have too much hot air.” The sun was blazing today, and Wen Xinshu’s temper flared.
“Keep watch on the Consort’s location,” Yang Xuan instructed. “We’re few in number, no need to spread ourselves thin. Just keep an eye here. I’ll go take a look.”
Inside the quiet room, the Consort entered, and Liang Jing followed.
“Get out!” she snapped.
Liang Jing’s face fell, adopting a bit of a wastrel’s air.
Now only the brother and sister remained, along with a trusted palace maid.
The Consort raised her eyes, their beauty captivating, her lashes fluttering delicately, making her all the more vulnerable and alluring. Her face was beautifully rounded, her skin like congealed cream.
“What did the Yang family say?” she asked, flicking her nail, a chill in her eyes.
Liang Jing replied, “That damned Yang family said, since the Consort wishes to ally, she should first yield some of the Emperor’s favor.”
“Ridiculous.” The Consort lightly scraped her painted lips with her nail. “The Empress has been in the palace for years; His Majesty is already weary of her. Even without me, she’d never win back his affection. This is intentional obstruction.”
“All men are dogs who tire of the old and crave the new,” Liang Jing said. “Afterward, I mentioned, Sister, that you still have no child. They fell silent. The next day, they sent someone requesting a meeting with you outside the palace.”
“Where are they?” asked the Consort.
“Outside. I have someone ready to bring them in.”
“Go, then.”
After Liang Jing left, the Consort was silent for a long time, then let out a cold laugh.
Behind her, the trusted maid whispered, “Your Grace, if I may be bold—since you cannot bear a child, no matter how much favor you have, there will be no one to inherit it. Your future status depends on the Crown Prince. The Empress often suppresses you in the palace, and even if the Emperor wants to scold her, he must consider the prestige of the Yang family. So everything depends on Your Grace’s own plans…”
The Consort replied, “I don’t care about the Crown Prince’s position, but the Yang family knows well—so long as I hold favor, if I support another prince…”
The maid gave a soft laugh. “Then the Empress and the Crown Prince would be in real trouble.”
“A meeting… who will it be?”
Outside, Yang Xuan noticed Liang Jing quietly emerging.
Damn!
What are they up to?
Yang Xuan remained impassive.
He withdrew. “Be alert.”
Zhao Guolin nodded.
Wen Xinshu gripped his bow and arrow. “Rest assured, Commander Yang! If anything passes by, not even a mother mosquito will escape my arrow!”
Yang Xuan pondered the relationships within the palace.
The Emperor and Empress were likely long since weary of each other, maintaining only a facade of harmony. The newly favored Consort had risen swiftly—fortunately, she had not born a child, or the Empress and the Crown Prince would have exploded.
The Consort visiting her family…
“Seize him!”
A sudden shout rang out.
Two figures leapt through the air.
“Stay calm!” Xin Quan shouted.
Zhang An cried, “Everyone, go!”
He led his Jing Tai men in a charge. “Protect Her Grace!”
They clearly intended to seal off the quiet room.
“Out!” came the Consort’s voice from within.
Zhang An: “…”
His men stopped in their tracks.
Of course, there was a noble inside—perhaps dressing, perhaps in the privy. If they barged in, they’d be dead men.
The Jing Tai men retreated like a receding tide.
The two figures in the air exchanged blows, then fled into the distance.
“After them!” Zhang An led his men off, teeth clenched.
The only ones left were Xin Quan’s men, and, at the edge, a mere handful of the Disciplinary Office.
Zhao Sanfu said to Yang Xuan, “Why don’t you go in and take a look?”
Everyone laughed.
To enter now would be courting death.
Soon Liang Jing returned, drenched in sweat, and hurried inside.
“They were intercepted.”
“Whose people?”
“I don’t know.”
The Consort frowned slightly. “Elder Brother, you must apply yourself—befriend useful people, not just those you can drink and carouse with.”
“I know, I know,” Liang Jing replied carelessly.
The Consort sighed. “Unable to meet today—is this fate?”
Liang Jing, for once, sighed too. “If only we could reach a tacit understanding with the Yang family, your days in the palace would be much easier.”
“Enough, we’ll look for another opportunity next time.”
She rose and smoothed the wrinkles from Liang Jing’s clothes. “I’ll return to the palace now. You take care of yourself at home, and stop idling about.”
“I know!” Liang Jing replied, a bit impatient.
“The Consort returns to the palace.”
Two eunuchs led the way, followed by a group of maids. The Consort was going back.
Xin Quan called out, “On guard!”
Yang Xuan stepped forward as well. “On guard!”
Across from them stood over twenty skilled Jing Tai men.
On this side, only a few of their own.
“Pfft!”
One of the Consort’s maids, seeing this, couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
The Consort, veiled, glanced over and also smiled.
Pfft!
It was as if a gust of wind had blown past.
Suddenly, Yang Xuan felt his scalp tingle.
Clang!
Without hesitation, he drew his sword and dashed toward the Consort.
“How dare you!”
“Assassin!”
“Disciplinary Officer’s men in revolt!”
“Protect Her Grace!”
Zhao Sanfu’s mouth hung open, unable to close. In his mind, images flashed by.
“Do you know Yang Lue?”
“That Yang Lue—what of him?”
“Isn’t Yang Lue the chief bodyguard devoted to the Emperor?”
Yang Lue, Yang Xuan!
He is!
The Jing Tai men surged forward.
The Consort’s face drained of color.
Her maids panicked and scattered.
Liang Jing shouted, “Sister, get down!”
Zhao Guolin didn’t move.
Wen Xinshu stood frozen, bow in hand.
Why would Commander Yang try to assassinate the Consort?
Who is he?
A figure shot out of the side gutter, arm raised, something flying straight at the Consort.
“Ah!” The palace maids screamed.
The Consort stared at the incoming hidden weapon, her mind blank.
Her delicate face turned ashen.
In her despair, she saw a young man.
And a broadsword.
The youth leapt through the air, twisting his waist mid-flight to position himself between her and the threat.
The broadsword slashed.
Clang!
The hidden weapon was deflected, whizzing over the Consort’s head. In midair, a Jing Tai expert was struck and fell.
The danger was not over.
The assassin followed close behind, a long, slender flexible sword trembling as it thrust toward the Consort.
Her mind was still a blank. Instinctively, she looked at the young man.
He raised his sword without hesitation.
Slash!
Clang!
Blade met blade, and the youth was forced back step after step.
Spurt!
A mouthful of blood burst from his lips.
The flexible sword pressed on relentlessly.
The masked assassin lifted his head, eyes locked on the Consort.
It was as if a fine rain fell from the sky.
The Consort shivered from head to toe.
Save me!
She opened her mouth, but no sound came.
In her despair, a staggering figure rose, reeling to meet the sword.
Bang!
The youth, body and blade as one, was struck flying, landing right before the Consort.
He collapsed, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth…
The Jing Tai men arrived.
The assassin cast a regretful glance at Yang Xuan, then vanished in a blur, a crowd giving chase in hot pursuit. Xin Quan cursed, “The earlier commotion gave the assassin a chance to slip in… Leave some men to guard Her Grace.”
The Consort’s soul returned to her body. Lifting her skirts, she crouched by the youth’s side, panic-stricken. “Don’t die!”
A cluster of maids, and Liang Jing rushing over, all stared at the youth.
He spoke.
“Your Grace… is truly beautiful.”