Held in the Lonely Castle Chapter 07

 

 Held in the Lonely Castle  

 Chapter 07

Translated by : DANMEI HEAVEN

   Marriage Alliance

The next time Princess Fukang’s name arose, it was in the Bureau of Military Affairs.

That spring, the Khitan army massed at the border. Their emperor sent envoys demanding the return of Ying and Mo provinces—part of the Sixteen Prefectures ceded by the traitor Shi Jingtang centuries ago.

The court refused to cede territory, opting instead for a marriage alliance between a Song imperial clanswoman and the Khitan crown prince, Yelü Hongji, to appease them.

The chosen bride was the daughter of Prince Yun Ning.

The Emperor dispatched scholar Fu Bi to negotiate with the Khitan envoys.

Upon learning the Song intended to ennoble a clanswoman as princess for the marriage, the Khitan envoy Xiao Ying frowned. “Doesn’t the Song emperor have a daughter? We’ve heard Princess Fukang is quite beautiful—our people admire her greatly.”

Fu Bi explained the princess was too young; marriage would require a decade-long wait. The envoy Liu Liufu smiled. “Our crown prince is also ten—a perfect match for Princess Fukang. What’s a decade’s wait? A true alliance requires marriage between imperial children. Our prince is the emperor’s eldest son—is the Song offering a mere clanswoman because you deem us unworthy?”

When Fu Bi reported this, the Emperor flatly refused to sacrifice his daughter. He sent Fu Bi to the Khitan court with orders to increase annual tribute but reject the marriage.

Before departing, Fu Bi was bestowed rare inks and treasures from the imperial collection. As I arranged the gifts, I deliberately placed the inksticks prominently.

Noticing they weren’t the usual Li ink from Shezhou, Fu Bi asked, “Has the tribute changed?”

I explained: “This year’s Li ink lacked sandalwood cases. His Majesty feared substituting laurel would imply diminished favor, so he chose Wang Di ink instead—equally prized, packaged in leopard-skin pouches.”

Fu Bi mused, “People prize the Li ink’s case more than the ink itself—like buying a box for the pearl.”

I smiled. “Is Li ink your favorite, Master Fu?”

“No—I prefer Chai Xun’s ink.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Li ink is fine, but not irreplaceable. Some prefer Wang Di, Chai Xun, Sheng’s ink from Xuanzhou, or Chen’s from Dongshan. Tastes vary. Yet because it’s imperial tribute, everyone clamors for Li ink—especially the sandalwood cases. Without them, suspicions arise. Better to change the ink entirely.”

Fu Bi laughed. “My colleagues hoard Li ink but rarely use it—they adore the cases! Some jested, ‘Why not give us the cases with silver to buy our preferred ink?’”

Then his expression shifted. “Of course... Of course!” He slapped the table. “Why didn’t I think of this before?”

He bowed to me. “Thank you.”

Later, in Khitan, Fu Bi argued: “Marriages between royals risk discord—affections fade, lives vary. A princess’s fate is uncertain, but tribute ensures lasting benefit. Moreover, a princess’s dowry is merely 100,000 strings—far less than annual tribute.”

The Khitan emperor, more interested in wealth than marriage, accepted increased silver and silk instead.

A month after Fu Bi’s return, a woman in her thirties from the inner palace approached me. “Fu Bi credited your counsel. The Empress praised your cleverness but feared keeping you in the Bureau might draw censure. Consort Miao requested you serve Princess Fukang, citing your past aid. Do you accept?”

I agreed without hesitation.

Soon, I was transferred to the Inner Bureau, promoted to Attendant of the High Rank, and assigned to Princess Fukang’s household.

On moving day, Zhang Chengzhao clasped my hand. “If you rise high, don’t forget me.”

(To be continued)