Chapter 130
The Emperor half-opened his eyes and leaned back against the cushions behind him. He stretched out his left arm and flicked his fingers once. Cui Lanyin glanced at him, then went over and settled against his arm. “Can you tell me now?”
“There are plenty of things I didn’t anticipate.” The Emperor curled his hand around her, lightly tapping her belly with his palm. Before long, it felt as though fish were swimming beneath her skin, and the baby slid from the left side to the right. A hint of a smile appeared on the Emperor’s face. “I just don’t know whether she’ll look more like you or me.”
Cui Lanyin swatted him. “Are you fishing? Stop teasing her.”
Ever since the beginning of the second month, when the baby had first begun to move, the Emperor had loved tapping her belly to coax the child into moving. Although Imperial Physician Cao had said that a baby who moved frequently was likely to be healthy and strong, the Emperor still shouldn’t be doing it whenever the mood struck him.
But the Emperor always had a justification. “I’m guarding against her taking after me and becoming lazy. When she’s sitting across from the two of us, wouldn’t that drive you mad?”
Cui Lanyin fell silent for a moment, imagining a daughter who, like the Emperor, would respond to three questions with half a sentence. How old-fashioned and world-weary she would seem! She would have given birth to a companion for the Emperor, leaving no place for herself at all.
And if the girl also inherited the Emperor’s habit of neglecting his appearance, all the pretty clothes Grand Empress Dowager Chen had made would go to waste.
Cui Lanyin suddenly felt that the Emperor’s approach was indeed the right one. She suggested, “Let’s give her a childhood name for now. Something lively and energetic. Think of one.”
The Emperor did not even need to think. “Fish are lively and energetic. Let’s call her Little Fish.”
“That’s far too perfunctory.” Cui Lanyin stared at him, at a loss for words. “The father who claims to have read every book in existence gives his daughter a name like that? Aren’t you afraid people will laugh at you?”
The Emperor snorted. “Who would dare laugh at me?”
He had a point. Even if he named her Fool or Idiot, people would still praise the name. After all, he was the Emperor.
Cui Lanyin narrowed her eyes and looked at him suspiciously. “Fourth Young Master Zhao, explain yourself. Is it because she’s a girl that you don’t take her seriously? You’re such a hypocrite.”
The Emperor could no longer remain lying down. He sat up and drew her into his arms, explaining patiently, “Back when I traveled among the common people, I saw that many ordinary families gave their children humble names, saying that such names would help them grow up safely. Names like Dog Leftover were everywhere. Naturally, our child can’t be given something like that. ‘Little Fish’ suggests liveliness and grace, and it rolls easily off the tongue. What do you think?”
His explanation reminded Cui Lanyin that she had been frail and sickly since childhood, and that her headaches had flared up again when she turned sixteen. She truly feared that the girl might take after her. Perhaps it was better to give her an ordinary, inconspicuous childhood name to ward off misfortune.
Cui Lanyin repeated it a few times and found that “Little Fish” did sound pleasant. A lively little fish—it did not seem so bad after all. She nodded at the Emperor. “Then Little Fish it is.”
In an instant, her expression softened, and her voice became so gentle it seemed one could squeeze water from it. “Little Fish, this is your childhood name. Do you like it?” she murmured, stroking her belly.
The Emperor gazed at her with profound displeasure. “I was here first, yet you’re already paying more attention to someone who arrived later.”
“She’s a child. How could I compare her with you?” Cui Lanyin pushed him back. “Oh, you’ve been meditating for so long. Aren’t you tired? Hurry up and lie down.”
The Emperor half-reclined once more, still extending his left arm. Not wanting to give him another excuse to bicker with her, Cui Lanyin obediently nestled into the crook of his arm.
“You nearly distracted me from the point. Did you come up with that game on the spur of the moment, or had you been planning it all along?”
On her birthday, Cui Lanyin had felt that simply having the young men and women sit there and size each other up was not only dull, but also meant that the shy ones would mostly never take the initiative to speak to anyone. In the end, very few matches would be made.
She thought of finding a way for the young men and women to get to know one another naturally while playing. So, whenever she had free time, she would take up paper and brush and write and sketch, trying to devise a game that men and women could play together.
It was easy enough to think of the idea, but once she actually began designing it, something was always unsuitable, or one consideration or another would be left out. It never quite came together.
When Xu Xian’s family returned, she thought that Xu Yi and Xu Zhen could not be left sitting on the sidelines. She finally came up with the rough outline of a game, but it still did not quite work.
Even after the ten busy days had passed and she returned to the rear palace, she was still deleting and revising, unable to settle on a final version. It was not until the Emperor reached out and picked up the sheet of paper in front of her that she realized he had returned.
He glanced at it once. “Is this for that matchmaking game you want them all to play?”
“You figured that out?”
The Emperor sat down beside her, picked up the brush, and wrote the words “Breaking Through Nine Gates.” Then, in one smooth burst, he wrote out the rules for all nine challenges. From beginning to end, it took him less than half an hour.
Cui Lanyin picked it up and was immediately drawn in. Just from reading the rules, there were several challenges she wanted to try herself.
It was not that she disliked the others; she simply lacked the ability to play them.
Though she found that somewhat regrettable, after thinking it over, she pointed to those particular challenges. “If even someone as sturdy as me can’t manage them, those delicate young men and ladies certainly won’t be able to either. Change them to something else. We can save these for another occasion.”
The Emperor set down the brush and leaned back. “Those are the key challenges. I guarantee that everyone will take part when the time comes. Don’t worry.”
Hearing the hidden meaning in his words, Cui Lanyin gave him a push. “What are you plotting now?”
“We need to revive the martial spirit of Great Yong. The sons of the scholar-official families should set an example first,” the Emperor replied.
Cui Lanyin raised the sheet of paper in her hand. “And what does this have to do with that?”
The Emperor deliberately kept her in suspense. “I say it does. You’ll see when the time comes.”
Over the more than twenty years of the Xuanning reign, the military nobility had withdrawn from the court by more than a bowshot. A family like the Cuis, with both Cui Chang and Cui Su skilled in archery and horsemanship, was already unusual. Even in the Meng family, where both father and sons enjoyed the Emperor’s favor, only Meng Huaizong and one elder half-brother born to a concubine had followed Meng Zhen into the military.
With the prevailing attitude being what it was, could a simple game truly change such deeply rooted beliefs? Cui Lanyin was skeptical.
The Emperor merely smiled at her. “Shall we make a wager?”
She had indeed never seen one of the Emperor’s plans fail. After hesitating, she still shook her head. “I’m not betting.”
After studying the sheet titled “Breaking Through Nine Gates” for a while, Cui Lanyin also began to see the logic behind it. “This requires a combination of courage and physical strength, doesn’t it?” She thought for a moment. “Shouldn’t we tell Liyan first?”
“My Lanyin is as perceptive as ever.” The Emperor suddenly pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek several times in quick succession before taking her earlobe between his lips. “There’s no need to tell Liyan.”
The brother and sister had grown up together, and Cui Lanyin considered herself very familiar with Cui Su. “Liyan has no interest in marriage at the moment. He’d probably want nothing to do with a game that requires men and women to pair up. When the time comes, if he refuses to participate…”
The rest of her words were swallowed by the Emperor’s kiss, and after that, she had no chance to ask anything more.
Remembering that dinner had not been served until bedtime that day, Cui Lanyin’s face flushed.
The Emperor was indeed very considerate of her during her pregnancy. He did not demand intimacy every day. However, he did keep a record of every day in a little ledger without missing a single one. Once several days had accumulated, he would make her repay the debt—with interest.
These past few days, with the Grand Empress Dowager Chen’s birthday celebrations underway, the Emperor had left her alone. Cui Lanyin was afraid that today he would finally come to collect his debt.
Though she had spent most of the day half-reclining at Danyue Residence, she was still tired by the time it was over.
She shifted, almost imperceptibly, a little farther out of the Emperor’s arms, thinking that if she kept him talking, he would have less time to think about that sort of thing.
But the Emperor saw through her little scheme. His arm tightened, pulling her back against him. “I’m not going to touch you. Let’s just lie here for a while.”
“Is there really nothing I can hide from you?” Cui Lanyin was beginning to feel that way.
The Emperor chuckled. “I’m only human. I don’t possess the powers of ghosts or gods.”
Cui Lanyin was still suspicious. Lately, she had been thinking that since she could never hide anything from him anyway, she might as well live as she pleased. In the end, whatever was meant to happen would happen.
The Emperor had placed all the people and affairs at his side in her hands. She had ties of favor with Grand Secretary Shen, Minister Gu, the Dong family, and the Xu family. The Cui and Gu families were both rising in prominence as well. And there was still much more she could accomplish. If she could not secure her position as Empress with all that behind her, she might as well find a piece of tofu and knock her head against it.
Honestly, at present, the Emperor had already done more than enough. To let a marriage fall apart over things that had not yet happened would be to lose sight of what truly mattered.
In that instant, Cui Lanyin suddenly saw everything clearly.
She cast the Emperor a coquettish sidelong glance. “I won’t ask about anything else. Just tell me—how did you know Liyan would throw himself into it?”
She was truly indignant that the Emperor understood Cui Su better than she, his own elder sister, did.
“It’s simple. You only need to leave him idle until he feels as though he’ll start growing grass all over,” the Emperor replied.
So the Emperor never concerned himself with what people thought. Instead, he guided them toward doing what he wanted them to do.
Cui Lanyin fell into thought. If she followed this line of reasoning, it seemed that many things could be handled in better ways.
The Emperor affectionately tapped the tip of her nose. “Learned something?”
His words jolted her awake. Cui Lanyin stared at him in surprise. “Uncle, did you come up with this especially to teach me?”
“Explaining it piece by piece wouldn’t have made as deep an impression as letting you experience it once. Look how quickly you understood.”
Cui Lanyin buried her face against his chest, feeling his steady, powerful heartbeat beneath her cheek. “Uncle, aren’t you afraid you’ll turn me into an ambitious Empress?”
The Emperor laughed softly. The sound made his chest tremble against her face, sending a tingling sensation through her and leaving her entire body feeling limp and warm.
“Then I’ll be spared the trouble. You can review the memorials while I take a nap. Wouldn’t that be ideal?”
Cui Lanyin punched him lightly. “And when our daughter grows up, you’ll pass the work on to her too, won’t you?”
The Emperor stroked her back and said with mock solemnity, “They say no one knows a husband better than his wife. You’ve even guessed that?”
Cui Lanyin lifted her head in displeasure. “I’m being serious.”
“I couldn’t be more serious.” The Emperor’s expression turned earnest. “Do you want to return to Yancheng?”
Cui Lanyin was so startled that she nearly sat up. The Emperor sat up first and pulled her onto his lap. Eagerly, she seized him by the front of his robe. “Uncle, are you thinking of moving the capital back to Yancheng?”
“Yes,” the Emperor replied. “I can’t allow the northern lands to become the Tatars’ backyard. The Son of Heaven must guard the nation’s gates. I have to stand in Yancheng.”
Cui Lanyin felt her heart tighten again and again—not from nervousness, but from a surge of uncontrollable fervor. Her blood seemed to rush hotly through her veins, filling her with such excitement that she could scarcely contain herself.
She had been born in Yancheng and lived there until she was sixteen. It was a place she could never bring herself to leave behind.
After moving to Yingcheng, she had found its gentle waters, warm mountains, splendor, and prosperity beautiful enough. Yet it had never been able to replace Yancheng in her heart. To her, only Yancheng could truly be called the capital.
Without the slightest hesitation, she said, “I want to return to Yancheng. I’ll go back with you, Uncle.” Then she took the Emperor’s hand and placed it against her belly. “And our daughter will come with us.”
The Emperor did not embrace her as he usually did. Instead, he solemnly clasped her hand. “That is why I need you to stand behind me and guard my back.”
Here it comes [kisses].
