Chapter Fourteen: The Family Meeting

“Your sons pay their respects to Father Emperor and Mother Empress.”

Though the three brothers each harbored their own thoughts, the shock in their hearts was identical. Yet, as imperial scions, they were masters of concealment; at such a precarious moment, none would reveal their true feelings, nor dare question why Lady Wu was present, or why she sat upon the dragon throne beside the Emperor in such blatant defiance of protocol. Each brother, one in front and two behind, moved to the steps, bowing with utmost respect as court etiquette demanded.

“Rise. You may all rise.”

Looking at his three kneeling sons, Emperor Gaozong’s face flushed awkwardly, his expression a tangle of pain, embarrassment, and, above all, guilt. His voice trembled as he motioned for them to rise. Ever since he’d learned of the Imperial Prison affair from the eunuch Zhang Dekai, Gaozong had resolved to intervene—less out of sympathy for the wrongfully slain Shangguan Yi, and more to warn the Empress. But he had not expected that, upon arriving at the Hall of Supreme Harmony, Lady Wu would appear before he’d even taken his seat. With barely any dispute, he had been utterly outmaneuvered, forced to let her take charge of the matter. The weight of remorse pressed heavily upon his heart.

“Thank you, Father Emperor!”

The situation was clearly dire, though its details remained obscure. Each prince, shrewd in his own way, knew the matter was fraught with peril. Their words of gratitude were loud, but nothing more; once they’d finished, all fell silent, hands folded, unwilling to speak first. The vast hall grew eerily quiet, the tension mounting with every breath.

“Cough… cough…”

The Crown Prince, always frail, could not withstand the oppressive silence for long. Soon he was overcome by a fit of soft coughing, the sound jarringly sharp in the heavy atmosphere.

“What are you all standing there for? Bring the brocade cushions at once! What use are you, a pack of useless fools with no sense at all!” At the first cough, Gaozong suddenly erupted in anger, unleashing a torrent of abuse upon the eunuchs who waited by the throne. His voice thundered with such ferocity that the eunuchs, startled out of their wits, scrambled to obey.

“Your Majesty, pray restrain your wrath. The fault is mine; I should have reminded you sooner.” Lady Wu’s gentle words cut through the chaos, her serene smile and soft tone soothing Gaozong’s fury at once. Even the three brothers, caught off guard and unsure how to react, were left astounded by her composure.

“Hmm.”

As the saying goes, “brine curdles tofu; every force meets its match.” At Lady Wu’s mere word, all trace of Gaozong’s anger vanished, leaving him subdued and breathing a little heavier.

Once the brocade cushions had been brought in, Lady Wu furrowed her brow, dismissed the assembled eunuchs with a wave of her hand, and turned her gaze upon the three brothers, studying them intently. She did not speak at once, but watched until all three grew uneasy under her scrutiny.

Trouble was upon them; the worst seemed unavoidable, and now it was a matter of salvaging what could be saved. Such a pity, what a pity! Though Li Xian stood quietly, his mind raced. Weighing his options, he realized the situation had slipped beyond his control—a fact that filled him with regret. He had anticipated Lady Wu’s interference when he first decided to make an issue of the Shangguan Yi case, but he had not expected her to act with such decisiveness, securing the Emperor’s acquiescence before the ministers could even present themselves. With the Empress now wielding imperial authority, his initial plan for a sweeping attack on her faction was no longer possible. Even severing one of her arms, so to speak, seemed uncertain. Worse still, Li Xian had no wish to draw attention to himself and become the Empress’s next target. How to maneuver safely between extremes became his chief concern.

“Xian’er, come here. Tell Mother, what is all the commotion outside about?” Lady Wu’s gaze settled on him, her lips parting in a tone of casual inquiry.

“Ah…”

At her words, Li Xian’s small frame trembled involuntarily. He opened his mouth, stunned, clearly startled—at least, so it appeared on the surface.

“Do not be afraid, Xian’er. I only wish to know the truth. Speak.” Lady Wu seemed quite satisfied with his display, waving her hand reassuringly and speaking with gentle encouragement.

Afraid? Perhaps a little, though not as much as he let on. He had long guessed she would make him her point of attack, preying on the softest target. It was a cheap tactic, and Li Xian had already decided how to respond; his performance as the meek one was quite convincing. Yet while he played the part well, his brothers Li Hong and Li Xian grew cold with sweat, fearing he would blurt out some reckless excuse and shift blame haphazardly.

This, surely, was what one called oppressive power. Heaven help them! The battle had not even started, and already morale was lost. As Li Xian played the weakling, he did not neglect to observe the expressions around him: Gaozong and Li Hong both looked tense, while even Li Xian, usually so bold, turned pale. None seemed confident in confronting Lady Wu directly, and with this realization, Li Xian’s spirits sank further.

“Mother Empress, please forgive your son. I—I know little of what has transpired. Since you ask, your son, your son…” Leaning fully into his act, Li Xian stepped forward, bowed, and stammered his response, eyes darting nervously to gauge Lady Wu’s reaction—a picture of timidity and fear.

At this, Emperor Gaozong’s dark expression grew even grimmer, Li Hong’s face—already pale—became more bewildered, while Li Xian flushed red, clearly poised to rebut any falsehoods. Lady Wu, however, simply smiled—a smile that betrayed her sense of triumph, though she did not press him further, merely nodding in encouragement.

“Mother Empress, let your discerning gaze judge. The matter is as follows.” Li Xian swallowed hard, his eyes flickering as he began, “Today, I had arranged to accompany Sixth Brother for a stroll beyond the city. Unexpectedly, we heard there was trouble at the Imperial Prison. Upon investigation, we learned that the Censor Cui Xuanzhe had forged an edict and was about to execute the entire Shangguan family. I hurried into the palace to report to Father Emperor and Mother Empress, but feared it would be too late. Fortunately, Sixth Brother acted decisively, and together we rushed to the prison, arriving just in time to save Lord Shangguan. We then received word that the former servant, Shangguan Fu, who had accused Lord Shangguan, had done so falsely out of malice. Outraged, we had him detained as well. Later, the Crown Prince heard of the incident and, realizing its gravity, gathered us and the court officials outside the palace to petition Father Emperor and Mother Empress for a full investigation, that the truth might be revealed to all under Heaven.”

Though Li Xian’s demeanor was timid, his account was clear and precise, skirting the origins of the affair to focus on the crucial facts. He spoke with earnestness, not passion, but his narrative was thorough and left no room for doubt. At once, his brothers felt their spirits lift.

“Father Emperor, Mother Empress, Seventh Brother speaks truly. How is it that in the great Tang Dynasty, under the bright and open heavens, a traitor such as Cui Xuanzhe dares to forge an imperial edict and commit murder? And how could a wicked servant falsely accuse his master? This is a shame upon our dynasty that cannot go uninvestigated!” Li Xian, who had feared his brother would falter, was now heartened and spoke out with fervor.

“Father Emperor, Mother Empress, there is something most strange in this affair, and all the officials are astounded. If it is not thoroughly investigated, it will be hard to win the people’s trust.” Not to be outdone, Li Hong spoke up as well—though his caution toward Lady Wu was evident, and his words were measured, unlike Li Xian’s directness.

“Oh? Is that so? Xian’er, then tell your mother in detail what occurred at the Imperial Prison.” Lady Wu had expected the usually timid Li Xian to beg for mercy under pressure, which would have given her the opportunity to gloss over the affair. She had not predicted his clear-headed account, nor his brothers’ boldness in her presence. For a moment, she was unsettled, a glint of suspicion passing through her eyes. Ignoring Li Hong and Li Xian’s remarks, she fixed her gaze on Li Xian, her tone now even as she pressed him further.

As expected—how sharp she was! With her words, Li Xian immediately understood her intention. Yet foresight offered little comfort; he had no choice now but to comply. Bowing, he replied, “Yes, Mother Empress. At your command. When my brother and I arrived at the prison, the execution was about to take place…”

The execution ground had too many witnesses for him to attempt deception; thus, Li Xian recounted the events faithfully, omitting only his exchanges with Li Xian and offering no opinions of his own. His tale, though rambling, took the better part of half an incense stick to relate, leaving his mouth dry by the end.