In late October, within the city of Chang'an, the news of Shen Tingyao’s passing could no longer be suppressed. The Minister of Rites drafted the obituary and announced it to the world. Shen Tingyao had been young; though there were two princes in the palace, neither was born of the Empress, and both were of such tender age that no heir apparent had been named. This created a profoundly awkward situation. Only days ago, the court had viewed Shen Tingjiao as a rebel and a traitor, racking their brains to suppress his uprising; today, he had become the sole candidate for the throne of Great Ying.
Yin Zhuli had always maintained excellent relations with the officials of Chang'an. In the way of business, frequent dealings with the government were inevitable. On this day, she held a secret banquet at the Guangling Zhixi Pavilion, a gathering so discreet that Red Leaf had not even informed Yin Mengyuan.
The discussion lasted a long time. The Guangling Zhixi was a place of immense opulence; the shimmer of mother-of-pearl and the luster of pearls were enough to dazzle the eyes. Even the most lofty and upright scholars lost their footing upon entering. Faced with a Princess Consort of such formidable resources, how could the young princes in the palace possibly compete with Prince Fulu?
The jade tables were laden with a sumptuous feast. Yin Zhuli spoke with a smile, "Over the years, the Yin family has been graced by the patronage of you lords. This is a debt of gratitude the entire Yin household holds dear to its heart. This humble cup of wine is a toast to you all."
Most of those present were perceptive enough to see which way the wind was blowing. There were, of course, a few upright gentlemen who believed they could not associate with such people, yet Yin Zhuli had invited them all regardless. She claimed the matter concerned the commoners of Great Ying and the very fate of the nation. Consequently, these men had arrived reluctantly and were not inclined to show her much courtesy.
Yin Zhuli did not take offense. She drained her cup, her eyes curved in a smile as soft as spring water. "The late Emperor has just passed, so we shall forgo the entertainment of song and dance today. I have invited you all here to discuss serious matters." She did not beat around the bush, coming straight to the point. "General Qu Tianji is currently stationing his troops at Tianshui, eyeing Chang'an like a tiger. He has a hundred and fifty thousand elite soldiers. I would like to ask you lords: what is your plan to counter this?"
The officials were caught off guard. Before Fu Chaoying could speak, Dong Yue, the Minister of War, interjected, "Chief Yin, your words are rather abrupt. If General Qu were not relying on your constant support and supply of grain, how could he wage war at all?"
Yin Zhuli nodded. "Lord Dong is quite right. If General Qu had not taken our Ninth Highness hostage, why would I have wasted such wealth?"
A stir went through the crowd at these words. Yin Zhuli sighed softly. "My lords, do you truly believe a general who has spent his life's blood to conquer the world would ever return the government to the Shen family of Great Ying? Furthermore, the situation is clear. If the two sides clash, the mountains and rivers of Great Ying will be shattered, and the people will suffer. His Highness is a man of mercy; how could he commit such a disloyal and unrighteous act for the sake of a single seat?"
The officials whispered among themselves. Only Fu Chaoying looked directly at Yin Zhuli. She returned his gaze with a smile, raising her cup in a distant toast. "Moreover, my lords, a country cannot go a day without a ruler. The late Emperor left offspring, and if you wish to support them, I have nothing to say. But can a mere toddler, who cannot even speak, withstand General Qu’s hundred and fifty thousand iron cavalry? If Chang'an falls, His Highness and I have long since ceased to fear for our lives, but I fear you lords may not survive the night. State Uncle Fu, you are the most senior here. What do you think?"
These words struck the heart of the matter. Everyone turned to look at the State Uncle, Fu Chaoying. He turned the archer's ring on his thumb, his voice low and somber. "The late Emperor has ascended. If His Highness was indeed held under duress by Qu Tianji, then he is truly the only choice to inherit the great succession. Once His Highness takes the throne and leads the army to crush the rebel Qu Tianji, it will serve as vengeance for the late Emperor and spare the people of Great Ying from calamity. What say you all?"
The officials were currently without a leader; once he spoke, the majority naturally fell in line. The matter was settled then and there.
By the time Shen Tingjiao entered Chang'an under the escort of Lian Kang and Tan Yue, the path ahead had been cleared. Fu Chaoying led the civil and military officials of the court to personally welcome him. Today, Shen Tingjiao wore the purple court robes of a Prince of the Blood. His imperial grace and dragon-like stature were as striking as ever, though he possessed three parts less feminine softness and five parts more noble elegance than before. Upon seeing Fu Chaoying, he asked in a low voice, "Is my mother well?"
Fu Chaoying nodded, then adopted the etiquette of a subject toward a sovereign. "This way, Your Highness."
A long red carpet had been rolled out. The citizens of Chang'an all hoped for a wise ruler who could stop the imminent war. Shen Tingjiao stepped onto the carpet, walking toward the carriage under the gaze of the masses. The procession and the carriage itself were already of imperial standard. However, the interior of the carriage was empty. He looked around for a moment before finally asking, "Where is the Princess Consort?"
Inside the imperial carriage, Fu Chaoying allowed himself to be slightly less formal. "She went to fetch Consort Dowager He. Your Highness—or rather, Your Majesty, as I shall soon call you—you have married a remarkable woman."
Shen Tingjiao smiled faintly at this, his demeanor composed. "In this life, one should always have a few strokes of good fortune."
Yin Zhuli was at the Ministry of Justice's prison. Although Consort Dowager He was confined here, she had fared well thanks to Fu Chaoying’s care. The cell was carpeted, with a couch inside and even plain-colored curtains hanging. Behind the curtains, a Buddhist shrine had been set up. She was still lightly tapping a wooden fish, chanting an unknown sutra. Yin Zhuli clicked her tongue in admiration. "I didn't realize the State Uncle was such a devoted man."
Consort Dowager He looked slightly embarrassed upon hearing this, but she quickly regained her composure. "My eye for men has always been much better than Yin Biwu's."
As she spoke, she gave a faint smile. She wore a light red gown that trailed on the floor, her black hair tied loosely behind her head. Without powder or jewelry, she possessed a clear beauty infused with an indescribable charm. Even as a woman, Yin Zhuli could not help but be impressed.
There were two types of women in this world: the former were as fragile as the wind, driving men to do their bidding; the latter were strong and independent, doing everything themselves. Different people, different fates—no one had the right to look down on the other.
Thinking this, she felt a sense of release. She leaned down in a graceful bow. "Your daughter-in-law respectfully welcomes Mother back to the palace."
This time, Consort Dowager He bent down to help her up, her voice carrying the affection of an elder. "Let us go, my child."
Upon returning to the Jiaoshu Palace, Yin Zhuli ordered the palace maids to attend to the Consort Dowager’s bath. Zhang Qing approached from the other side. "Mother, Father has instructed that as soon as you return, you are to be invited to the Imperial Study to discuss affairs."
Yin Zhuli nodded. "Let’s go."
In the Imperial Study, the ministers were all present. By right, Yin Zhuli should have excused herself, but she was never one for rigid etiquette and walked straight in. The others were used to it by now—in fact, they would have found it strange if she *had* stayed away.
When Shen Tingjiao saw her, a gentle smile finally touched his face. "Zhuli, come here."
Yin Zhuli walked to his side. Eunuch Huang, being quite perceptive, immediately placed a chair beside the imperial desk. Once Yin Zhuli was seated, the group continued their previous topic: selecting the date for the coronation.
Shen Tingjiao interlaced his fingers with hers. His smile remained gentle, yet it carried a new, steady charisma. His voice held a note of inquiry. "Zhuli, which day do you think is appropriate?"
Yin Zhuli looked at the dates selected by the Ministry of Rites and pointed randomly at the nearest one, the twenty-sixth of October. "The war in Tianshui cannot wait. The coronation should not be delayed. Let it be this day."
The ministers began another round of chatter, discussing trivial yet complex matters like the era name, the title for the Empress Dowager, sacrifices to Heaven and the ancestors, and the tailoring of robes. Shen Tingjiao sat patiently, and only after hearing all their opinions did he speak clearly, "The rebels have not yet been eliminated and the treasury is empty. The coronation ceremony shall be kept simple. As for the era name, I shall discuss it with the Princess Consort and decide on another day."
The ministers, long accustomed to serving Shen Tingyao, could easily read his intent to dismiss them. They immediately knelt, performed their salutations, and withdrew. Once they were gone, he turned and pulled Yin Zhuli into his arms. She was not quite used to this posture; he sensed this and merely kept his hand around her waist without moving further. "Zhuli, you don't seem happy?"
Yin Zhuli looked at his hand around her waist. His words were still gentle, but his actions were those of a man claiming his woman; the frailty of the past was nowhere to be seen. She felt a flicker of doubt but kept her expression neutral, quietly allowing him to hold her. "How does Your Highness plan to handle the war in Longxi?"
Shen Tingjiao understood her thoughts well and immediately promised, "I will, of course, listen to your advice. But Zhuli, he is your biological father after all. That is an unchangeable fact. If we offer him amnesty, the conflict in Great Ying will cease immediately, and you... would have a pillar of support in the court. Even if Chief Yin Biwu died because of him, it has been over twenty years. Must you still hold onto this grudge?"
Yin Zhuli studied him up and down, her gaze playful. "Your Highness’s words are quite interesting. However, I am a merchant. If there is one thing I understand, it is the principle of paying one's debts. As long as a person is alive, no matter how many years pass, the debt must eventually be paid. You are right; after twenty years, there is technically no need for me to seek revenge. Although the Second Master of the Yin family values the empire above all else, he still holds some affection for me. If I were to rely on him, I would not lack for wealth and status for the rest of my life." She twirled a lock of his hair between her fingers, speaking with a smile. "My master had no need for revenge either. He came from a scholarly family; with his character and talent, he was famous in Chang'an. What kind of woman could he not marry? Why did he have to pine for a dead woman? Even my mother had no need for hatred. She was a First-Rank Mandated Lady commissioned by the court. If she had followed the imperial family, even if the Yin family's ancestral business withered, she would have remained a noble of Chang'an."
Her voice grew solemn. "But Your Highness, the debt of birth cannot be repaid. Aside from this, I truly do not know what else I can do for her."
Shen Tingjiao showed a hint of helplessness. "Zhuli, have you considered that Great Ying has been at war internally and externally for decades? Now that we finally have a chance for peace, why must you, for the sake of a personal grudge..."
Yin Zhuli interrupted him with a smile. "Your Majesty, are you trying to say that Consort Dowager He and Grand Tutor Fu might not be willing to use force?" She leaned closer to him, her voice so tender it could almost drip water. "Your Majesty, do you truly think I was deceiving General Qu about the treasure in Jincheng County?"
Shen Tingjiao’s expression changed drastically. Yin Zhuli remained leaning in his arms, taking his hand and kissing it lightly. "Qu Lu won't find it immediately, but with a thousand men in Mount Qiyun, they will find it sooner or later. You have already broken your word to him once. Do you think that once General Qu possesses that treasure, he will ever trust you again, or accept your amnesty?"
Shen Tingjiao stood up, intending to leave, but Yin Zhuli remained lazily leaning against the back of the chair. "Previously, I provided General Qu with two hundred thousand piculs of grain, which were transferred from within Jincheng County. Jincheng is not a particularly fertile place; how much grain could it possibly have? Even if General Qu discovers the treasure, the grain within the city is already scarce. He will have to use his money to procure supplies from other towns in Longxi. That will be the moment to strike. If Your Majesty sends troops now, you have a great chance of victory. If you wait any longer..."
Shen Tingjiao’s anger flared. He turned back and pinned her against the chair. "You scoundrel! All day long, you are either calculating this or plotting that! You anticipated long ago that I might offer Qu Tianji amnesty once I took the throne, didn't you?!"
Yin Zhuli let him pin her down. Seeing his exasperated appearance, she found he had regained some of his former charm. Her eyes were full of laughter. "Your Highness, you should refer to yourself as 'We' now."
Shen Tingjiao hated her heartless look. He raised his hand as if to strike her, but after a long moment, he lowered it. A sudden, wicked fire surged in his lower abdomen, and he no longer intended to go out. "Someone, come! Bind Yin Zhuli to the Emperor's bed!"
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 宾天 | passed away / ascended | A polite euphemism for the death of an emperor. |
| 礼部 | Ministry of Rites | One of the six ministries of the imperial government. |
| 广陵止息 | Guangling Zhixi | The name of the high-end establishment/pavilion owned by Yin Zhuli. |
| 兵部 | Ministry of War | One of the six ministries. |
| 刑部 | Ministry of Justice | One of the six ministries. |
| 龙章凤姿 | dragon-like stature and phoenix-like grace | A phrase describing imperial or exceptionally noble elegance. |
| 椒淑宫 | Jiaoshu Palace | The name of the palace residence for the Consort Dowager. |
| 一品诰命夫人 | First-Rank Mandated Lady | A high-ranking title granted to the wives or mothers of officials. |
| 朕 | We / I (Imperial) | The first-person pronoun used exclusively by the Emperor. |
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