One Sun In the Sky
Empress Liang treasured the rare moments when she could shed her crown, and her imperial duties to indulge in the simple pleasures of motherhood with her twin sons. As the Mother of the Dynasty and Mistress of the inner palace, such private moments were as infrequent as a blue moon.
Today, upon receiving news that Jinghua had stepped foot into the palace, she had sent away most of the mansion staff to attend to her boys personally. This choice was met with visible discontent from the female staff members. Their melancholic eyes, creased foreheads, and expressions filled with disappointment spoke volumes as they unwillingly exited the Palace of Abundant Elegance.
Empress Liang didn’t need extraordinary intellect to decode their hidden ambitions. These young women yearned for the same thing, to distinguish themselves from their equals and be noticed as vibrant blossoms ready for picking by the princes. Every attendant knew well that one interested glance, one suggestive word from royalty could transform their lives overnight – birthing a prince could elevate them from mere concubines to Consorts with their personal residence and servants, perhaps even ascending to become future empresses.
In the imperial harem, a woman’s power, status, and favoritism from the emperor down to the foods she ate and the coals she burned in winter were determined by the children she birthed.
Empress Liang entered the imperial harem when she was thirteen. She had many suitors, and it never crossed her mind to join the harem. On selection day, she had intentionally dressed down, and done little hoping to not get selected, but she didn’t need adornments to stand out. One couldn’t deny her smooth porcelain skin that contrasted her thick glossy dark hair adorned with a single plum blossom rather than jewels, unlike her competitors.
Her delicate features had been accentuated more by the lightest touch of makeup. Her attempt to downplay her appearance had merely heightened her natural beauty and striking dark eyes and full lips. Out of two hundred girls, she was the first selected, singled out in the first round by both the Empress Dowager and Emperor and, as enchanting as she was and as highly intelligent and wise as she was with an astute mind, she never once dreamt she would one day become the Empress and the third Mistress to sit on the Phoenix throne during her emperor husband’s reign.
The Emperor’s first Empress, Empress Sha, had been known for her vivaciousness and was a skilled rider and trainer of horses. She was the eldest daughter of one of the noblest names under the eight banners. She was good-natured but spoiled, a direct and honest woman with wild female warrior-like features. Empress Sha met the emperor when he was out hunting in disguise.
They struck the same deer and argued about who would take the kill. She allowed him to take the deer, believing he needed the meat more than she, but her arrow had hit more than the deer but also the Emperor’s heart. Their marriage, like their love story, had been one of profound mutual affection, but limited. Empress Sha passed away six years after entering the palace when she was twenty-one while giving birth to the first princess, a stillborn who followed her mother to the River of Oblivion.
The Emperor never got over the loss of his first wife, but the ministers insisted he take a new empress for the stability of the dynasty. His second Empress was his half sister, Princess Yue Sheng. As the sole controller of the harem, she was as stunning as she was jealous, as prominent as she was merciless to any woman in the harem who received her emperor brother’s favor or affection.
During her ten-year reign, a time which many in the harem still referred to as ‘the Cursed Period of Sorrow’.
They called it this because of the countless consorts and concubines who died of mysterious causes, especially those who became pregnant. The few women whose pregnancies went full term gave birth to stillborns or babies who died moments after entering the world. Only Empress Jing seemed immune to this curse and, without incidents, she became pregnant every few years and gave birth to living children.
The Emperor and Empress Jing’s first child was the first prince, Prince Jingning, the first healthy Prince born in the harem. First-born Prince Jingning should have been the Crown Prince. But the Dragon seat wasn’t his fate. First Prince Jingning was gentle-natured, a shy nonverbal child who avoided direct eye contact with others and recoiled, becoming upset when servants touched or tried to dress him. His speech was delayed and when he finally began; he did so with repetition of phrases from books he was reading.
Despite this, young Prince Jingning was a genius, voracious reader and remembered every written word from the dynasty’s annals he began reading when he was merely four years old, but he feared horses and cried and flapped his arms when sent archery lessons. He refused to hold a sword. He disdained the feel of anything cold and slick. During martial arts lessons, he withdrew and stared off blankly, and ignored his shifu. First Prince was far from the proper heir the Emperor wanted. In his first son, he only saw the boy’s shortcomings without recognizing the amazing tasks he accomplished. He blamed his empress sister for their son’s particular characteristics and avoided her, causing her to lose his favor, but the Empress knew her brother better than most, and before long, she became pregnant again.
Empress Jing’s second child was Princess Yueming. The proud Emperor honored his daughter’s birth with a month-long period of celebration. Her birth was followed by Princess Yuesong only twelve months later. The Emperor was pleased to have another beautiful phoenix but Empress Jing’s obsession with giving the Emperor a Prince and putting her son on the throne was her downfall.
Some said she consulted with shamans and witches to perform blood rituals for the conception of a male. Others said she began taking mystical tonics for fertility and the evil deeds she once had others perform in her stead in secrecy; She discovered the morbid satisfaction of doing the dirty work with her own hands. The Empress killed pregnant concubines and consorts by hanging and then manipulating the scene to appear as a suicide. She poisoned foods or used her power as the inner palace mistress to discipline women for the slightest minor offenses flogging many to death.
To prevent rivalry, Empress Jing forced the others to drink toxic tonics to make them infertile, threatening to kill anyone who spoke of her deeds but in the harem full of miserable, wronged, dying women, nothing stays a secret before long whispers of her wickedness spread outside the palace walls.
Gossip and speculation sowed seeds of discord between the Sovereign and his people. The palace, once a sanctuary of tranquility, was now a stormy sea of emotional chaos during those volatile years.
It strained the dynasty’s harmony and burdened ministers whose daughters were ensnared in the harem under the Empress’s control. In a life where their sole duty was to bear royal successors, barrenness equated to an existence steeped in solitude for these women and a diminishing of influence for their kin. The ministers penned fervent appeals relentlessly, aiming to persuade the Emperor to unseat his wife. However, the Emperor, clouded by his profound familial affection towards his sibling-wife, remained oblivious to the whispers that filled every corner of the palace.
His heart, bound by blood ties stronger than any chain, staunchly denied any misdeeds by his empress. Their desperate pleas echoed unheard within palace walls; their aspirations for justice were crushed like fragile glass underfoot. Yet no one can elude fate’s design, Heaven’s will – a severe drought fell upon their lands, pushing its inhabitants into dire straits. For three relentless years, not a single droplet fell on their parched soil from above. The once fertile land cracked under the merciless sun’s glare while bountiful crops wilted away into nothingness. The drought was followed by famine.
The empire’s subjects, high-born and commoners, began attributing these disasters to the Empress’s wicked transgressions and her alleged failure to provide a male heir. But as hope dwindled like a dying ember, there came an unexpected twist: The Empress was with child–not just one, but potentially two, according to every palace physician’s prognosis. A renewed sense of optimism surged through the palace corridors; however, this happiness proved transient when she gave birth to a grotesque anomaly.
She birthed a monster. Deformed triplets. A grotesque mass of three wailing heads, a tangle of tiny limbs fused to one body. These children died minutes after their birth and were Empress Jing’s karmic retribution, a chilling reminder of her sins, and after the birth of the triplets, the emperor sent his sister to the cold palace for the rest of her life.
Empress Liang, then a young concubine, entered the harem three months before the end of Empress Jing’s reign. She became pregnant despite drinking infertility tonics. She hid her pregnancy by binding her stomach and left blood on her sheets to deter suspicion. Only after Empress Jing’s deposal did she feel safe to inform the Emperor of her state, and after the chaos with Empress Jing, the Emperor was terrified of more malformed children in his harem, but the Consort gave birth to healthy twin princes.
It was as if the heavens themselves foretold of the twins’ arrival and rejoiced in their birth. The day Jingyuan and Jinghua were born, pink billowing clouds suddenly filled the clear sky and covered the scorching sun and rain fell upon the thirsty land ending the drought. Colorful, rare, phoenix-like birds circled the palace for nine days. Such auspicious signs from the Gods and Heaven were a clear testimony of greatness in the princes and her children were indeed exceptional.
Princes Jingyuan and Jinghua were twins with brilliant minds who, even in their early youth, carried themselves like little adults with a distinct air of contemplation and courtesy while lacking arrogance. They never boasted or bragged about their accomplishments to their royal father as their siblings the other princes, but their quiet nature merely turned more attention to them.
The constant jealousy from the other consorts and imperial children was warranted. Her sons excelled not only in intellectual pursuits but also in physical feats. Archery, martial arts, and swordery had come to them with unusual ease, like second nature. However, despite their other outstanding characteristics, their physical beauty was perhaps their most striking feature – they were so handsome it bordered on the dangerous. Who could resist their raven-black hair, prominent cheekbones, sculpted jaws, full eyebrows, and deep, expressive eyes?
She had witnessed countless women often losing the ability to speak, stammering and stuttering, unable to form a proper sentence. Women lost composure, morality, and even themselves when faced with these young princes’ allure. Yet the Empress understood her children better than anyone else. She knew they weren’t young men of loose morals who indulged in wine or women’s company. Rather, they were scholars who found peace and satisfaction in solitude or the company of a select few. Even after two years apart, the princes found comfort in their favorite leisure activity – engaging in unhurried games of chess while savoring tea and communicating through understated gestures and glances.
“Such silence,” the Empress finally spoke, breaking the peaceful atmosphere between them. “Two years apart and not a single word from either of you. I feel left out.” She signed and said casually, placing a plate of osmanthus cake and other sweets on the table beside the chessboard. “Since neither of you will converse with me, a grandchild or three would ease this old woman’s loneliness.”
Jinghua raised his head, and a slight smile appeared on his face. “Our royal mother is only thirty years old. If you want to talk to someone younger, why not have another child with our royal father? Besides,” He gave a respectful fist and palm salute to his older brother, “It is only fitting for the older Crown Prince to have the first child. And isn’t tonight a full moon? The yin and yang are in balance, making it the perfect night for you and Consort Shao to give our royal mother an imperial grandchild.” Jinghua says before placing two plump green grapes into his mouth.
“Yes, Consort Shao will serve the Crown Prince tonight, but I’m concerned about you.” The Empress sat by Jinghua. She gently placed her hand on his knee and gave it a reassuring pat. “I saw Lady Min the other day,” she remarked. “She’s more beautiful than ever. Since you have found no one else, perhaps you should make her your principal wife and grant her the title of Princess Consort. She can accompany you when you leave.”
The Empress forced a smile. She loved her sons equally, and the last thing she wanted was to see her younger son leave the capital so soon, but she understood the dangers of having two equally capable heirs and one throne. In the end, there could only be one emperor, one ruler in charge, as there could be only one sun in the sky.
Crown Prince Jingyuan
“Mother, Jinghua hasn’t even been home a week after being gone two years. Royal Father expects a full detailed report from him.” I feel my jaw tense up and I conceal my aggravated tone. I understand our mother’s intentions, but it’s unfair to Jinghua.
My twin is me and I am him, yet all his life, he’s conceded everything to me, wandered like a nomad instead of the prince he is because I was born a few hours before him. He fought his first battles while I feasted at banquets. He slept in a tent under torrential downpours while I bedded my consorts in a warm bed. It is a terrible feeling when you knowingly steal from the one person I love and value most.
“It’s now spring. Summer is unbearably hot and too dangerous for travel. Perhaps Fall would be best. This will give Empress Mother time to find Jinghua a new wife,” I say to lighten the mood then frown, shaking my head to notice my sneaky brother has fenced my black stones off and captured more territory. “Aya, has Crown Prince has lost his edge. Or has he finally taken pity on his little brother’s poor playing skills?”
Jinghua grins at me and his face doesn’t betray him when he smiles as if everything is fine, as if he wasn’t hurt by our mother’s comment, but damn it, I see it in his dark eyes. That resignation. His unwavering loyalty to me and what he believes is his way of protecting the throne for me as he readily accepts his unfavorable fate without a single complaint.
“I’ve traveled in the summer before and our father will only require my presence for a few weeks at most. Our mother is right. It would not reflect well if I stayed in the capital for too long.” He takes a sip of tea as the servant quietly lights the candles for the night, and I cringe as the candlelight highlights the sunken shadows under his eyes and the visible weight loss on his face. “Mother, may I have more of those mushroom dumplings that Jinghua enjoys?” I inquire, knowing she will leave the room to retrieve them. Once she is gone, I turn to him and say, “Jinghua, perhaps you should stay longer. Father’s health is deteriorating, and I want and need you here. You’ve been investigating the skin trade on the Eastern border, but there has also been a rise in young girls disappearing from the capital – not just common girls, but daughters of nobility as well.”
Our mother returns with a plate of freshly steamed dumplings and places it in front of Jinghua. I change the subject, saying, “Eat up. You’ll need energy for Lady Min and your search for another wife.” I am aware of his feelings towards his second wife and taking on another, but one of the greatest joys of having a younger sibling is teasing them.
“I’ve met someone. My heart belongs to her. How can I even consider someone else?” Jinghua’s words and his facial expression are devoid of any emotion to betray his fallacy.
What a scoundrel.
I already know he’s lying, but I play along to see where this charade is headed. Royal Mother’s excitement is palpable as she kneels in front of him. Her beautiful face lit up with wonder and joy, making her appear more like an excited young girl than the Mother of the Dynasty. “Who is she?” she asks eagerly. “What family does she come from? I always knew you would find someone special. We must consult with the astrologers to find an auspicious day for the wedding!”
I can’t help but be impressed by Jinghua’s acting skills; he almost had me fooled. “But here’s the thing,” he begins, cocking his head as if deep in thought. “This young lady doesn’t know how I feel. It’s one-sided at the moment, an unrequited love. But soon, I’ll confess.” Before he can finish his sentence, Royal Mother interjects sharply, “The audacity! How dare anyone reject your affections?! Is this girl blind or insane? What kind of woman wouldn’t fall in love with you at first sight?! You’re perfect!”
Jinghua nods in agreement with Royal Mother and replies, “Empress Mother is as wise as she is beautiful. Yes, I’m without flaws. Many say I’m far better looking than my brother.” He states, then clears his throat as I shake my head at him, unable to hold back my chuckle any longer.
My brother Jinghua is the only person in this world who makes me laugh out loud. Our mother walks away to refreshen the tea and I call his bluff, “You’re full of shit. You have met no one. Tisk tisk, telling mother such a boldfaced lie.” Jinghua leans in, moving closer, his face inches from mine, and replies slyly, “Good luck with your needy, ovulating consort and the best three second you can give her.”