Chapter Six: Deliberation Before Action (Part One)

The hour of the Rat had just ended, the perfect time for deep slumber. Anyone whose dreams were disturbed on such a frigid night would surely wear a sour expression, and Gao Miao was no exception. Yet, facing the familiar yet now somewhat unfamiliar Prince Zhou—Li Xian—Gao Miao dared not utter a word of complaint, nor even allow his suffering to show on his face. He could only stand obediently, bowing before the low table, awaiting Li Xian’s instructions. Unexpectedly, apart from a single grunt when Gao Miao first entered to make his report, Li Xian remained silent for quite some time.

The face was the same, but something about the person was different—though exactly what, Gao Miao could not say. It seemed his young master now possessed a newfound steadiness, with far less of the childishness that would occasionally surface in the past, as if he had become a different person entirely. Recalling Li Xian’s peculiar behavior during the day, Gao Miao involuntarily shivered, secretly wondering if his young master had encountered something unclean.

“Are you cold? I’ll have someone bring you some ginger soup at once,” Li Xian said, noticing the subtle sound of Gao Miao’s clothes rustling as he shivered—a noise so faint that only someone as attentive as Li Xian, roused from his reverie, would have caught it. He glanced at Gao Miao with a slight frown, his tone gentle and concerned.

“No, no, Your Highness, thank you for your grace. I am all right,” Gao Miao stammered, startled from his anxious thoughts by Li Xian’s question, and hurriedly bowed lower, his gratitude tinged with fear.

“Good. As long as you’re fine,” Li Xian replied, not pressing the matter further. He nodded and changed the subject. “If I recall correctly, you have been in my household for over six years now, haven’t you?”

“Your Highness has a remarkable memory. I entered your service in the ninth month of the fourth year of Xianqing. Counting to today, it has been six years and three months,” Gao Miao replied with a forced smile, uncertain why Li Xian would bring this up but too cautious to question him.

“Six years—how swiftly time flies. In the blink of an eye, it’s slipped away. Back then, I was but a child running wild. And now… well, no matter. Let us not dwell on that,” Li Xian said, his heart heavy with emotion. What truly moved him was not the six years, but the wasted fifty-five years of his previous life—a lament he could not share. Now, looking at Gao Miao, who had accompanied him through his past life, Li Xian’s eyes grew slightly moist. He rose from his knees, his expression earnest as he addressed Gao Miao: “You must be wondering why I summoned you at this hour.”

“I dare not, Your Highness. Whatever your command, I shall obey,” Gao Miao replied, lowering his bowed body even further, answering with humble deference. He could not detect what lay beneath Li Xian’s words, but sensed a weighty matter at hand.

Li Xian nodded silently, not speaking at once. He gazed at Gao Miao with a complex expression before saying, “I grew up deep within the palace, and after establishing my household, these high walls have kept me just as isolated. I have few friends and even fewer confidants. You, Gao Miao, have grown up with me and are my companion. I am not one to forget past kindness; though I cannot promise you riches and glory, I will never forget the bond we share. Whatever I can give you, I will not begrudge. Do you believe this?”

“Your Highness, everything I do is my duty. Even if I must brave fire and water, it is only right. Please, do not speak so—I am unworthy of such praise,” Gao Miao replied, voice choked with emotion. Though he did not understand Li Xian’s intent, he could hear the sincerity in his words and was moved to kneel, overwhelmed.

“Rise. I will say this only once—remember it well. I will not go back on my word this night,” Li Xian said, lifting his hand in a gesture for Gao Miao to stand. He took a deep breath and continued, “There is something I need you to do. It may be dangerous, but it must be done, and I cannot act openly. Will you help me?”

At these words, Gao Miao was struck dumb with shock, his eyes wide with alarm. He covered his mouth, struggling to compose himself. Seeing that Li Xian was not jesting, he steadied himself and replied with care, “My life is insignificant. If Your Highness so commands, I would die without hesitation. But if this task is so important, I cannot accept without knowing the full truth, lest I fail Your Highness’s greater purpose.”

This answer, though not impassioned, pleased Li Xian greatly. Gao Miao’s caution reassured him. Indeed, after a lifetime together, Li Xian knew well his companion’s prudent nature. Smiling gently, he explained, “I do not wish to keep you in the dark. The matter is grave. Should it fail, not only will disaster fall upon the court, but I will also suffer greatly. For the sake of the greater good, I must take this risk. What I need you to do is to keep close watch over the Imperial Prison and prevent certain scoundrels from harming Lord Shangguan. Do you dare undertake this?”

“The Imperial Prison? Lord Shangguan?” Gao Miao repeated blankly, searching Li Xian’s face for any hint of jest or hesitation, but found none. At once, his expression grew solemn, and he knelt again, saying, “I do not understand Your Highness’s reasons, but since you deem it necessary, I shall obey. Rest assured, even if I die, I will never implicate you.”

“It isn’t as dire as all that. Stand and speak,” Li Xian said, waving his hand for Gao Miao to come closer. With a confident smile, he continued, “Lord Shangguan was thrown into the Imperial Prison by false accusation. My father, the Emperor, has already discerned the truth. However, the case is complicated and cannot be resolved lightly, so he has decreed a general amnesty to save Lord Shangguan. The edict is prepared but has not yet been proclaimed. In the meantime, I fear some may forge imperial orders to do harm. As a prince, I cannot allow villains to run rampant, and my father has instructed me accordingly. Do as I say—if anything happens, I will bear the responsibility.”

“Your Highness, I am honored to share your burdens. Please instruct me, and I will carry out your will without fail!” Gao Miao, reassured by the Emperor’s secret order, no longer feared that Li Xian was acting out of childish impulse. His confidence surged.

“Good. I’ll remember your words,” Li Xian replied. He had resolved to take this gamble and had a plan in mind. Though some of his words were speculation rather than fact, they were close to the truth. Having experienced these events in his previous life, he now felt seventy percent certain of success—he simply needed to confirm his suspicions. Though the risk was real, he had prepared contingencies and was not too concerned about being ensnared. Seeing that Gao Miao had accepted the task, Li Xian smiled and said, “At dawn, select fifty trustworthy guards from the household. You will lead them and have them lie in wait near the Imperial Prison. Send people inside to gather intelligence. Remember: do not act without my order. If you see Censor Cui Xuanzhe enter the prison, come to me at Prince Lu’s residence at once. I will handle the rest. If this succeeds, all will be well. Do you dare do this?”

Though Li Xian spoke lightly, Gao Miao was thunderstruck. The Imperial Prison was a place of utmost secrecy, holding only those accused of treason, and few left it alive. It was not a place for ordinary men, let alone a lowly eunuch like Gao Miao. Even Li Xian himself would require imperial permission to enter. Any disturbance there would cause an uproar across the empire—a task that could easily cost a man his head. Gao Miao’s face twitched as he struggled to find his voice.

“Don’t be so anxious; I won’t send you to your death. Trust me—I have a plan,” Li Xian said gently, understanding Gao Miao’s hesitation.

“Rest assured, Your Highness. I know what to do and will not fail you,” Gao Miao replied, heart pounding. Li Xian’s determination was clear—there would be no changing his mind. Gao Miao steeled himself and accepted the task.

“Very well. Remember, the reason for this mission must not be revealed to anyone, not even the guards you select. If you forget this, I may not be able to save you,” Li Xian warned, though his young face now bore a satisfied smile.

“I will remember, Your Highness. You may rest easy,” Gao Miao replied, finally grasping the gravity of the matter and pledging himself wholeheartedly.

“Good. That settles it. There’s still time before dawn, so there’s no rush. Sit with me and talk awhile,” Li Xian said, the excitement of defying fate making sleep impossible. With more than an hour until sunrise, he invited Gao Miao to share a drink.

“Your Highness, I…” Gao Miao began. He had always been at ease with Li Xian, but tonight, after their conversation, he found his young master’s hidden depths daunting. Unsure of himself, he hesitated to take a seat.

“Sit. I told you, you are my companion. There’s no need for such formality,” Li Xian said with a smile, gesturing again for him to come closer.

“Thank you, Your Highness. Forgive my presumption,” Gao Miao replied, bowing deeply before kneeling respectfully at Li Xian’s side.

“That’s better. Come, have a drink with me,” Li Xian said cheerfully, picking up the wine pot and, stopping Gao Miao from serving, poured a full cup for him. Lifting his own cup, he drained it in one go and laughed. “I’ve heard that in Zhengzhou, Henan, there is a Shaolin Temple famed for its martial artists. They once aided our great ancestor, Emperor Taizong. I’ve always admired them. If ever I could become the disciple of one of their great monks and acquire some skills, that would be a fine thing. If there’s ever time, you must accompany me there.”

Gao Miao, dizzy from the day’s strange events, found his thoughts finally clearing after the large cup of wine. Hearing Li Xian speak of learning martial arts, he couldn’t help but smile. “Your Highness is truly forgetful. If you wish to practice martial arts, there’s no need to travel to Shaolin. We have several guards in our household who hail from there. If you’re serious, you can learn here. Besides, while Shaolin has many masters, they are not unparalleled. For swordsmanship, the greatest expert is actually Li Chunfeng, Chief of the Bureau of Astronomy.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Li Xian asked, intrigued. In his past life, he had never cared for martial arts, nor bothered with tales of the martial world. He knew Li Chunfeng by name, but nothing of the man himself. Now, hearing Gao Miao’s words, his interest was piqued.

“Indeed, Your Highness. Li Chunfeng is a true master in both schools…” Gao Miao, still youthful at heart, had spent much time mingling with the guards and was well versed in such stories. Once he began, he spoke with such enthusiasm that his words poured forth like a torrent, leaving Li Xian wide-eyed in amazement.