Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Art of Persuasion

The days were growing ever hotter. Even with two sizable ice basins placed in the room, Li Hong was flushed and red-faced from the heat. Behind him, two palace maids tirelessly waved their fans, but the oppressive warmth would not be relieved. Worse still, the memorials piled up endlessly; he had been reviewing them since early morning and it was nearly noon, yet a thick stack still waited to be judged. Li Hong felt a mounting urge to vent his frustration in some grand gesture—but, of course, such thoughts were mere fantasy. He could only grit his teeth and continue, leafing through each document, making his corrections, while his irritation grew ever deeper, simmering within him like a volcano before eruption.

It was vexing, truly vexing—not merely because of the sheer volume of memorials, nor solely because the matter of Shangguan Yi’s posthumous title had come to nothing. What troubled him most was that a large portion of last month’s memorials sent to Luoyang had been returned without approval. Clearly, the red-inked notes at the top were all written by Empress Wu herself. This meddling in affairs by a woman who should not be presiding over the state was intolerable to Li Hong, yet he was powerless to change it. The frustration festered in his heart, making him all the more despondent.

“Your Highness, Prince Zhou requests an audience outside the palace,”

Just as Li Hong was buried in his memorials, Wang Dequan hurried in from outside, leaning close and reporting in a low voice.

“Oh?” Li Hong lifted his head from the documents, looking at Wang Dequan with uncertainty. Clearly, he was unsure of Li Xian’s intentions.

“Your Highness, Prince Zhou says he’s come to bring gifts. I saw his attendants carrying several gift boxes, so I believe it’s genuine,” Wang Dequan explained quickly, seeing the inquisitive look in Li Hong’s eyes.

“Bringing gifts?”

It wasn’t a holiday nor any festival—what could be the reason for gifts? Li Hong muttered in puzzlement, unable to grasp Li Xian’s purpose. But since he was already at the palace gate, it would be unreasonable to refuse him. Besides, Li Hong still hoped to draw Li Xian into his own camp; he certainly wouldn’t push him away. So he simply said, “Let him in.”

“Your brother greets the Crown Prince.”

Shortly after Wang Dequan departed, Li Xian strolled in. Seeing Li Hong busy and sweating, Li Xian felt a pang of sympathy, though his deep cunning kept it off his face. Instead, he approached with a cheerful smile, bowed, and greeted him.

“Seventh brother, you’re here—no need for formalities. Someone, bring a seat for Prince Zhou.” Li Hong had heard Li Xian’s footsteps approaching but hadn’t looked up. Only when Li Xian spoke did he raise his head, smiling and gesturing for the attendants to bring a brocade cushion for Li Xian.

“Crown Prince, your tireless devotion to state affairs is a model for us all. Yet the work never ends; you must take care of your health,” Li Xian, lifting the hem of his robe, sat upright, shook out his wide sleeves, and offered a compliment with hands clasped.

“You’re thoughtful, Seventh brother. Since I am entrusted to govern, there’s no avoiding the toil. I am fated for a busy life, it seems. But enough of that—did you come for something in particular?” Li Hong felt the sincerity in Li Xian’s words and appreciated it, but he didn’t wish to linger on the topic, so he laughed at himself and moved straight to business.

“Indeed, brother, I came for just that—I’ve brought you a gift.” Li Xian smiled, took a box from Gao Miao, who stood behind him, opened it before Li Hong, and produced a jade-ribbed folding fan. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped it open with a flourish, waved it, then closed it with a crisp sound. Rising, he walked forward and presented it to Li Hong with both hands.

“Ah, this fan is quite exquisite. I’ve never seen one like it—excellent, excellent,” Li Xian’s deft, graceful movements with the fan caught Li Hong’s admiration. When Li Xian handed it over, Li Hong took it without hesitation, imitating Li Xian’s gestures as he snapped it open and examined it, waving it a few times and feeling instantly refreshed, prompting his praise.

“Let me tell you, Crown Prince, this is a folding fan. I saw it in a workshop while strolling through the city recently and was so taken with it that I ordered several jade-ribbed fans. I found them quite useful and, not wishing to keep them to myself, brought some for you. If you like it, it’s my good fortune,” Li Xian explained, delighted to see Li Hong so taken with the fan.

“You’re considerate, Seventh brother. I truly needed this. It’s not only a pleasure but also convenient to carry. I won’t stand on ceremony,” said Li Hong, playing with the fan, opening and closing it, and accepting it gladly.

“There’s another use for the folding fan, Crown Prince. See, both sides are blank—if a famous scholar were to inscribe poems or paintings, it’d be quite elegant while keeping cool. Now that the days are hot, if you reward your ministers with these, it would be fitting. I’ve prepared over a hundred and left them in my carriage; I’ll have my servants deliver them to you,” Li Xian continued, smiling, revealing that his true aim was to have Li Hong set a trend by using the fans.

“That’s a fine suggestion, but so many fans must be expensive. I shouldn’t accept them all for free. Have your attendants send the bill; I’ll have the treasury settle it,” Li Hong replied, thinking Li Xian’s idea was good but not wishing to take advantage.

“Brother, I wouldn’t dream of taking your money—that would be an insult to me,” Li Xian, though in need of funds, didn’t mind parting with a hundred fans, especially since he sought to curry favor with Li Hong.

“Very well, then. I’ll gladly accept your gift, Seventh brother.”

Li Hong, wanting to strengthen their bond, smiled and clasped his hands in thanks.

“It’s only right, Crown Prince. You labor for the nation day and night—my abilities are limited, and I cannot ease your burdens. To help in any way brings me peace,” Li Xian replied, his flattery so smooth and relentless that Li Hong felt thoroughly warmed.

“Seventh brother, you’ll make me blush with that tongue of yours! Enough with the compliments. It’s getting late—will you stay and join me for lunch?” Li Hong said with a smile, half jest and half invitation.

“It’s exactly what I hoped for,” Li Xian answered with a laugh, gladly accepting. Li Hong pointed at him with the fan, and both burst out laughing.

Though the Eastern Palace’s cuisine was prepared separately from the imperial kitchens, it was much the same—slow-cooked dishes that looked appealing but tasted bland. Compared to the lavish feasts Li Xian had enjoyed in later eras, or even those in his own princely residence, they were disappointingly dull. To make matters worse, Li Hong favored vegetarian fare, so most of the dishes were vegetable-based—one could only say they tasted like wax. For someone like Li Xian, with refined tastes, attending such a banquet was little better than enduring hardship. It was all about the atmosphere, really. Fortunately, Li Hong had the habit of a midday nap, so the meal did not last long. When the meal finally ended, Li Xian didn’t linger, taking his leave and strolling out of the palace with Gao Miao. As they walked, suddenly a hand reached from behind and slapped Li Xian’s shoulder, startling him so much he nearly jumped.

Li Xian had just been calculating how much profit he might make from the folding fans, but this unexpected interruption made all his thoughts of copper coins vanish. Annoyed, he turned to see the unnaturally handsome face of Helan Minzhi; the retort at his lips had to be swallowed.

“Little Seven, what were you thinking about? Don’t tell me you were daydreaming about romance—ha ha ha!” Helan Minzhi, always irreverent and heedless of rank, was delighted at having startled Li Xian, laughing loudly.

What on earth was he doing here? Li Xian had never much cared for Helan Minzhi. Since the last time he’d sent Helan to the Eastern Palace, nearly half a year had passed without seeing him. Now, suddenly interrupted, Li Xian cursed inwardly, though outwardly he smiled and bowed, “Cousin, weren’t you in Luoyang? How is it you’re back?”

“Heh, Luoyang can’t compare to the capital. I got bored there, so I asked for a job and returned,” Helan Minzhi replied, waving his hand casually. His eyes caught sight of the folding fan in Li Xian’s hand, and without asking, he snatched it away, turning it over and over, muttering, “Hey, what’s this? I’ve never seen it—how does it work?”

A job? As if that rascal could do any real work—pure nonsense! Li Xian thought scornfully but replied gently, “It’s a folding fan, for keeping cool. Allow me to show you, cousin.”

“All right,” Helan Minzhi replied, after examining the fan for a while without figuring it out, readily handing it back when Li Xian offered.

Li Xian didn’t explain further, but snapped the fan open with a flourish, waved it a few times, then closed it with a practiced motion. Helan Minzhi was delighted by the performance and tried to grab it again, but this time Li Xian was prepared; quick as Helan was, he didn’t even touch the edge.

“Ah, come now, Little Seven, don’t be so stingy. It’s just a fan—I'll get a few for myself,” Helan Minzhi said cheerfully, unfazed by his failed attempt.

“Haha, if cousin wants one, I’ll gladly give it. By the way, what was that job you mentioned earlier?” Li Xian, though he disliked Helan Minzhi, did not wish to make an enemy, so he laughed and handed the fan over, casually inquiring.

“Nothing much, just that His Majesty is about to perform a sacrifice at Mount Tai, and I got a job as an advance scout. Came back to the capital to pass some documents around the ministries—nothing important,” Helan Minzhi explained, playing with the fan as he spoke.

Sacrifice at Mount Tai? Ah, so the great drama is about to begin! Though Helan spoke carelessly, Li Xian listened with keen interest. He continued to smile, but a sharp gleam flashed briefly in his eyes.