Chapter 11: The Timely Rain
Later, a poet penned these lines:
A good rain knows its season, arriving with spring's breath.
Silent, it slips through night's veil, nurturing life with gentle dew.
Though the poem speaks of spring rain in Jiannan Circuit, the rains of Chang'an were anything but "silent." Here, the drizzle pattered softly, the sound of water cascading from roof tiles into gutters filling the air—plip-plop, plip-plop—as mist veiled the world.
When Xue Chongxun arrived at the Da Qin Temple, the scene felt eerily familiar: again, he had come early to meet his mother, again taken shelter in a temple, and again encountered a woman.
Yet this time, it was not the Qianfu Temple but the nearby Da Qin Temple in Yining Ward, near Kaiyuan Gate. The temple practiced Nestorianism, a branch of Christianity. When first introduced to the Tang, locals mistook it for a Persian faith and named it "Persian Temple." Only later was it renamed Da Qin Temple, though official records still used the old title.
Under the temple pagoda, Xue and his servant sheltered from the rain. As the servant closed his umbrella, a woman hurried toward them, hands barely shielding her head. She darted under the eaves, her clothes dampened.
Xue did not recognize her, but her delicate beauty caught his eye. She wore a pale ruqun—a common Tang-style ensemble of short jacket, long skirt, draped shawl, and half-sleeve overgarment. Her face, lightly powdered, glowed with youth. Raindrops clung to a strand of hair plastered to her lips.
The ancient temple, stone pagoda, and this classical beauty merged into a dreamlike tableau—her graceful figure, melancholy aura, and poetic charm. She glanced briefly at Xue, then turned her gaze skyward, as if willing the rain to cease.
Perhaps moved by her elegance or the soft drizzle, Xue felt an uncharacteristic calm. He took his servant's umbrella and offered it to her. "Take this."
The girl studied him shyly. "But you've only one…" Her voice trailed off, revealing a youthful innocence—she couldn't be older than fifteen or sixteen.
"I came by carriage," Xue replied evenly. "Keep it. Who knows when this rain will end?"
Hesitating, she accepted the oil-paper umbrella with a smile. "Thank you, kind sir. How shall I return it?"
Xue almost smiled—this was his chance for a second meeting. Yet he said simply, "It's nothing of value. Keep it."
After a thoughtful pause, she nodded. "Then I'll not stand on ceremony… Have you visited the Repentance Hall here? The priests listen through small windows. You seem troubled—speaking to them might ease your heart."
With that, she opened the umbrella and vanished into the rain. Watching her retreat, Xue felt an unexpected lightness, recalling how Yuwen Ji had aided refugees at the City God Temple.
"It's time," he told his servant.
The opulent Princess Taiping's estate was magnificent in any weather. Willow tendrils swayed elegantly by the rain-kissed lake; grand pavilions loomed like mist-shrouded peaks.
"The chancellors await in the front hall," Princess Taiping said upon seeing Xue. "Join me. Stay for dinner tonight."
Her words carried weight. Despite Xue's recent murder scandal, his mother showed no reproach—instead involving him with state ministers. Her trust was absolute. Yet Xue felt a pang: that he'd needed atrocities to earn his own mother's faith.
In the hall, two purple-robed chancellors rose—Xiao Zhizhong, portly and composed, and Dou Huaizhen, tall and dignified. Dou's presence struck Xue as absurd: this elegant man had once married Empress Wei's ancient wet nurse, a farcical spectacle at court.
Noting Xue, Dou exchanged pleasantries. "That recent matter—pay it no mind. Trivial."
But Xiao cautioned, "Li Shouyi vows to intervene. He's tenacious. Be wary."
Dou waved dismissively. "Li has no real influence. What storm can he stir?"
Princess Taiping scolded without heat: "Foolish boy, always picking fights! Now I must clean your mess."
Xue bowed. "My error, Mother."
Dou chuckled. "Youthful decisiveness is rare! Though… there were subtler ways to remove Feng Yuanjun. Now you've handed critics ammunition."
Xue thought bitterly: When Mother ousted four pro-Crown Prince chancellors, what was Feng but a gnat? If this was just for Taichang Temple's power… was murder truly needed?