Chapter 13: Anger
Taiping Princess turned her head to look at his face, clearly surprised and confused, because killing the crown prince was not easy. The crown prince had his six bodyguard troops from the Eastern Palace for protection, and eliminating him could probably only be achieved through a palace coup.
Xue Chongxun said, "The two chancellors say they want to deal with Zhang Wei, but what good does it do to remove Zhang Wei? On the surface, the court and the military are in mother's hands now, but does that mean we can rest easy? Back then, Empress Wei controlled the entire court, and all the generals of the Imperial Guard were her trusted confidants. She even mobilized 60,000 troops to escort her into the capital; what happened? The beautiful dream lasted only a dozen days."
It wasn't that Xue Chongxun's political insight was much better than that of Taiping Princess. Taiping Princess had spent her life in politics, rich in experience and effective in her methods. Xue Chongxun might not match his mother in that regard, but he came to this conclusion because he foresaw the power of Li Longji, which could only be described as extraordinary.
Historically, the famous Emperor Xuanzong of Tang was indeed a remarkable figure in the early days. His greatest strengths were his courage and magnanimity, but his tragic end came simply because he grew old and had enjoyed many years of peace, causing his fighting spirit and determination to wane.
Taiping Princess did not fly into a rage nor immediately scoff at him; instead, she bowed her head in contemplation. Xue Chongxun's advice had some effect. If it weren't for the bad deeds he had previously plotted, Taiping Princess might not have taken it seriously and could even have doubted him.
"Are you suggesting that if pushed to the limit, the crown prince would resort to drastic measures?" After pondering for a long time, Taiping Princess spoke.
Xue Chongxun nodded, "Mother understands the crown prince's character; there is a possibility of that. But this is not the most dangerous factor, because the current emperor is still on the throne. Out of familial affection and considerations for his own power, he would help mother at critical moments, meaning the crown prince's chances of desperate actions are slim. The real danger is if the crown prince ascends to the throne; at that point, we would truly be powerless to turn the tide, and we could be in a situation where there's no place for our remains. I am not a chancellor, so I can't participate in court discussions, but I have heard that the current emperor mentioned stepping down, but he gave it up because mother and the ministers opposed it strongly. Therefore, it is possible that the crown prince will ascend the throne very soon; it all comes down to what the current emperor decides. Worse still, the current emperor is often indecisive, so we can't place our fate in his hands."
"If Grandmother were in Mother's position now, she would certainly do the same." Xue Chongxun abruptly threw out these words, then fell silent. This single sentence, perhaps, carried more weight than a hundred reasoned arguments.
Indeed, Princess Taiping's face revealed a complex mix of emotions. Her feelings toward Wu Zetian were tangled—love, admiration, resentment… When Wu Zetian had executed her husband years ago, she had raged, despaired, and felt utterly helpless. Yet how could she wholly despise the mother who had once doted on her so fiercely? In her youth, Princess Taiping had not only relied on Wu Zetian's affection but had worshipped her with unwavering devotion. It was this very psychology of reverence that Xue Chongxun sought to exploit with his remark.
As for Xue Chongxun himself, he held neither affection nor hatred for his grandmother, Wu Zetian. She had killed his father, but so what? He didn't even resent her, knowing it had been a political necessity. Wu Zetian, he reflected, was someone who would sacrifice anything for power—a ruthlessness he doubted he could match. He might act without scruples to survive, but never merely for greater authority.
Survival—that was his driving force. Power for its own sake? Not worth the cost.
The rain continued to fall, and Princess Taiping's mood grew as damp and knotted as the drizzle, impossible to sever. Memories surfaced: her girlish whims, sweet pastimes, romantic encounters… A man of noble bearing and elegant speech had once burst into her heart like a reckless spring hare.
Crack! Another thunderclap startled her from her reverie. She gazed skyward, suddenly recalling another stormy day when her mother had ordered her husband Xue Shao's execution. She had wept bitterly, pleaded desperately—to no avail. The mother who had once indulged her every whim had turned cold, decisive, indifferent to her anguish.
Power, she realized, grants all desires—yet strips life of its raw sincerity.
"Mother, are you unwell?" Xue Chongxun's concern snapped her back. She shook her head faintly.
"The rain has chilled the air again. You should rest," he pressed.
Princess Taiping studied his face. "You resemble your father… though darker. Still practicing martial arts?"
The sudden shift to mundanity forced Xue Chongxun to follow suit. "The ancients mastered six arts. As a scholar-official, I honor tradition."
His mother nodded approvingly, then pierced through pretense: "Why did your men kill Feng Yuanjun? Not over some woman, I think. Was it to earn my trust?"
Xue Chongxun saw no point in lies. "Feng was Gao Lishi's last kin. Eliminating him proves I'll never side with the Crown Prince. Only by removing Li Longji can we secure our path—this counsel comes from careful deliberation."
"Easier said." Princess Taiping neither rejected nor endorsed his scheme. "But your decisiveness shows growth."
Praise for murder? Xue Chongxun sighed instead of preening. "Why does Second Brother drift from you?"
"That traitorous wretch! Why mention him?"
"Didn't you always favor Li Longji over us?" Xue Chongxun's voice cracked. "Royal blood doesn't negate our need for familial warmth!"
Princess Taiping froze. "I cherished your uncle's son to strengthen our bond—is that not kinship?"
"Li Longji now seeks your death!" Xue Chongxun roared, decades of repressed grievance erupting. "Who stands with you? Not him—your own flesh and blood!"
"How dare you—!"
"Kill me then, like Grandmother killed Father! Let us share his fate!"
"Get out!" she shrieked. "Out of my sight!"
Xue Chongxun stormed away without ceremony. To his surprise, exhilaration surged through him—no more stifling deference. The icy mother-son dynamic had shattered, revealing an aching void he now vowed to fill.
Warmth. Trust. Meaning.
As his carriage rolled toward Daqin Temple, the rain persisted—gentle yet relentless. To his astonishment, the woman he'd lent an umbrella to that afternoon still lingered there.
"You… returned?" they exclaimed simultaneously.
She glanced at the borrowed umbrella, chagrined. "I meant to return it, but—"
"Keep it," Xue Chongxun chuckled, marveling at life's sudden sweetness compared to courtly bloodsport.
Her laughter rang clear as a lark's song. "Next time, I'll carry two!"
Unbeknownst to him, her rounded face—wide-eyed, small-nosed, with soft contours—radiated an innocence far removed from Yu Wenji's sultry allure. Here bloomed pure, uncomplicated delight.