The Emperor was indeed fishing with Li Ming.
It was entirely because of Li Ming himself — he could neither play chess nor appreciate calligraphy or painting, and the only pastime he and the Emperor could share was fishing.
When the eunuch reported that Princess Baohua had arrived, the Emperor said in surprise: “She is feeling better?”
The eunuch, bowing, replied: “The princess seems to have a rather good complexion.”
The Emperor had her sent in.
Li Ming handed his fishing rod to an eunuch and stood up, brushing off his robes.
A graceful young woman came walking toward them, her appearance beautiful and her bearing elegant — she was indeed the child of the late Empress, deeply favored by the Emperor, and known throughout the land as “the Pearl of Yunjing City,” Princess Baohua.
Though she had not yet come of age, she was already a transcendent beauty of the human world.
Xie Yuzhang raised her eyes. Li Ming wore his reddish-brown robes, short and stocky, looking like a lump of earth. No wonder the palace maids laughed at him.
“Father.” After completing her bow to the Emperor, Xie Yuzhang turned to Li Ming with a half-bow. “Lord Li.”
Li Ming smiled pleasantly and returned the bow. “Greetings to Your Highness.”
Inwardly, however, he was surprised. Just days ago this princess had worn an expression of pure, artless girlish charm — seeing him for the first time, she had curved her eyes and hidden a laugh behind her hand. Though it had been somewhat lacking in decorum, the innocent, carefree manner of a young girl had been such that one simply could not take offense.
But today, in the imperial garden, as the adopted sons arrived before the Emperor and she looked on, this princess’s brow was entirely calm and steady. Nothing moved, nothing wavered. Every trace of her flighty, childlike air seemed to have been reined in.
As though she were a different person.
The Emperor had naturally noticed the change in Xie Yuzhang too, and he asked with concern: “Are you feeling better? Yesterday when I came to see you, your maids said you could not eat and your spirits were low — that you had taken medicine and were asleep.”
Xie Yuzhang, of course, had not fallen asleep in the middle of the day. Hearing that the Emperor had come, she had not wished to see him, and had pretended to be sleeping after taking medicine, instructing the palace maids to turn him away.
In this palace, the only person who would dare turn away the Emperor when he came calling — and refuse to see him — was Xie Yuzhang, the most favored princess of all.
“I took two doses of medicine and I am much better. I am sorry to have made Father anxious — it is this child’s fault for being unfilial,” Xie Yuzhang set aside all her other thoughts and raised her eyes with a smile. “The moment this child felt better, I wanted to come pay my respects to Father. My palace has just prepared a chilled perilla drink — it is the best thing for relieving the heat and restoring the appetite. The moment they finished icing it, I rushed to bring it over.”
She added: “How fortunate that Lord Li is here too — please have some as well.”
She worked hard to imitate the coaxing, girlish manner she had once used to please her father, but it was too difficult, far too difficult. Life had left so many wounds and scars upon her that she could never find her way back to what she had once been.
The Emperor had naturally noticed her difference.
While the official taster stepped forward to test the drink, he looked at Xie Yuzhang for a moment and then turned to sigh to Li Ming: “Look at her — one small illness, and it is as though she has suddenly grown up, become a young woman.”
Li Ming smiled pleasantly. “As the saying goes, plants need not be worried about growing.”
The Emperor played the devoted father. Li Ming played the country bumpkin.
Every person was playing out their own role upon the stage of their own life.
Xie Yuzhang’s heart was flooded with a profound and bitter irony. She used the Emperor’s words as cover to lower her eyes, affecting a bashful expression, concealing the true feelings within.
A chilled drink on a summer day was indeed wonderfully effective at relieving the heat and restoring the appetite.
Li Ming praised it effusively and kept insisting: “I am benefiting from His Majesty’s generosity.”
Yet for all his rustic appearance in the capital, back in his own territory he ruled like an emperor in his own right — what fine food and drink had he not tasted?
Xie Yuzhang saw through him but said nothing. She received the Emperor’s empty cup from the eunuch and handed it off, then stood behind the Emperor and gently patted his back. She smiled and said: “Just now, outside the imperial garden, I ran into Lord Li’s two sons. They were, honestly speaking — a bit of a sorry sight.”
A glint passed through Li Ming’s eyes.
The Emperor had already laughed and scolded her: “How rude! What would you know, young girl? Those are generals who have rendered meritorious service on the frontier.”
“They were just so stiff,” Xie Yuzhang said on purpose, making a little face. “On such a hot day, the two of them were standing rigidly in the sun, completely proper and upright, not knowing to go find a cooler spot — and standing so straight, for so long. Aren’t they tired?”
She added: “In all this palace, I have never seen anyone who could stand as straight as that, and for so long.”
Li Ming’s gaze flickered, and the look he directed at Princess Baohua was no longer the same as before.
The Emperor asked: “Your two adopted sons, then?”
“Precisely,” Li Ming answered pleasantly. “My seventh and my eleventh.”
The Emperor’s interest was roused. “Summon them.”
Moments later, Li Gu and Li Weifeng were brought before them.
Xie Yuzhang patted the Emperor’s shoulders idly, but her eyes never left the two men.
The two valiant young generals were tall and long-legged, walking faster than other men. Each step they placed on the ground seemed to carry the weight of a thousand pounds. The robust and martial spirit of northwestern men had been no exaggeration.
Although the two had made a fool of themselves before the soft palace maids earlier, before the Emperor they showed composure, and their conduct was passable.
Xie Yuzhang watched with a cool eye. Li Gu spoke little, yielding every opportunity to respond before the Emperor to Li Weifeng — neither grabbing nor competing.
Before Li Ming’s death, Yunjing City had known only of the Military Governor of Hexi’s twelve sons, collectively called “the Twelve Tigers,” and at most knew that the fourth was Li Ming’s own blood. Beyond that, who could tell one from another?
It was not until after the contest in the northwest was decided that Li Gu appeared before all of the realm as if from nowhere.
From that day forward — unmatched in valor, an unstoppable force.
It was only after they left the palace and returned to Li Ming’s residence in the capital that Li Gu and Li Weifeng learned how they had come to be received by the Emperor that day.
“You should thank Princess Baohua,” Li Ming said.
Away from the imperial palace, his ever-present pleasant smile was gone. What remained on his round face was the look of a sharp and capable man.
The Emperor had received his two adopted sons, given them gifts, and added nominal titles for them — all because Princess Baohua had mentioned them in passing before the Emperor.