For preview purposes only; final product may differ
Author: Ning Yuan
Translator: Ah Yang, Serena
The Ninth Year of the Shunde Era
The capital in springtime was adorned with flourishing blossoms and lush trees. The bustling streets were filled with people jostling one another on the way.
In this good season of the year, the main gates of the imperial palace stood wide open, not to receive the emperor, but to welcome the high-ranking officials newly appointed this spring.
A procession of ornate carriages marched its way through the pavements, guided by a dozen young people who commanded the reins themselves. Clear hoofbeats resounded upon the palace road as they arrived at the magnificent Hall of Taiji.
Dressed in luxurious robes and riding fine horses, these young individuals embarking on their political careers appeared radiant and ambitious.
Accompanied by the rumble of bells and drums, the carriages made their way into the imperial palace and stopped outside the Hall of Taiji. The new courtiers disembarked and proceeded into the Hall of Taiji to present themselves before the emperor. After that, they returned to their carriages and drove to the imperial garden located northwest of the Hall of Taiji to attend the Osmanthus Banquet.
The imperial garden, known as the Garden of Tranquility, served as the venue for the Osmanthus Banquet, a lavish feast held every two years to celebrate the ascent of talented individuals into the imperial court. The nobles, important officials, and even the young emperor, accompanied by his queen, would attend this grand biennial occasion.
Delicacies had been meticulously prepared in the garden under the supervision of the Master of Ceremony, Xiang Xu, and the Groom of the Chamber, Liu Shao. Meanwhile, the carriages still had some distance to travel. It was imperative to ensure the flawless arrangement of this year’s Osmanthus Banquet, as per the emperor’s orders.
As guests were about to arrive, Xiang Xu made his rounds in the cellar, counting the liquor jars. Discovering one missing, he pulled Liu Shao and asked, “Have you prepared the Jade Wine?”
Liu Shao immediately frowned when Xu brought up the topic again, “Your Excellency, please! You’ve reminded me about the wine at least three times since last night if my memory serves me right. And here we are again! I am not that old. This wine was set aside specifically for the Clerk of the Throne. How could I possibly forget? You didn’t see it because I had it moved to the lobby.”
Hands clasped behind his back, Xiang Xu followed behind the maids and eunuchs who hustled their way to the lobby. As Xiang Xu spotted the jar containing the Jade Wine, a smile instantly spread across his face. “Good.”
Liu Shao carefully poured the wine into a glass and placed the jar on the vacant table reserved for the Clerk of the Throne. Turning back, he gestured toward the jar with a clenched jaw, “Sir, do you have any idea how much effort I’ve invested in tempering the strength of this wine while preserving its fragrance? Is it still liquor if it lacks alcohol? Just because female officials are unable to tolerate strong spirits yet must attend the Osmanthus Banquet, I’ve sacrificed several nights of rest. Nowadays, people preach equality among officials, regardless of gender. Then why is there a concern especially for the preferences of female officials? It’s as if we walk on eggshells to avoid accusations of discrimination. Is this what you call fairness?”
Xiang Xu did not reply, only offering a propitiatory smile.
Each time the term “female official” was mentioned, Liu Shao became sensitive. It was commonly known that the female official he incessantly mocked was not just any woman, but one particular individual. The one who not only unsettled him but also cast a shadow over the entire Great Yu Empire.
Liu Shao was favoured by the young emperor, emboldening him to mock her discreetly. Even without any response from those around him, he could complain endlessly to himself. However, should anyone dare to engage, they would find themselves unable to leave until the cows came home. Sensing the potential trouble, Xiang Xu preferred to keep his distance.
Anyway, Liu Shao was not an exception in harbouring bias against female officials. It had not been long since women in Great Yu could be selected as officials and enter politics, and many still held prejudices about this matter.
Since the first year of the Zhaowu era, when the former ruler defied conventions by appointing female officials and granting noble titles to women, an increasing number of women in high positions established their own government offices and recruited subordinate officers. Some even led battles during the Northern Campaign and achieved numerous victories. This inspired many ordinary women in Great Yu to seek education. Not only did the Imperial College begin enrolling female students, but women could also be found in schools throughout the country. Boldly stepping out of their traditional roles, they delved into Confucian and Taoist classics alongside men and ventured into politics. Furthermore, in the second year of the Zhaowu era, Great Yu made history by selecting its first high-ranking female official in over two hundred years.
This woman excelled in both literary talent and military strategies, which rapidly propelled her up the ranks. It took her only twelve years to ascend to the Senate, becoming one of the three most prominent officials. She remained actively engaged in government affairs to this day. Her legendary journey served as inspiration for women aspiring to serve their country. Since then, the society of Great Yu had undergone significant changes. Women now pursued various occupations, no longer considering illiteracy as a moral standard. Being literate and cultured was now esteemed.
However, the fourth year of the Zhaowu era marked the third year of the marriage rate hitting a new low, as women focused their attention on receiving education. Countless marriageable men found themselves unable to find a wife who could bear their children. Worse still, the ongoing war caused a significant population decline. The low fertility had become a headache for the Ministry of Revenue.
The former monarch, responsible for these social issues, was unperturbed and remained persistent. As doubts emerged questioning the throne’s competence, to everyone’s surprise, she forcefully enacted the new marriage law allowing women to marry women.
Yes, she. The former sovereign was actually an empress, the only female ruler since the founding of Great Yu. Therefore, it was reasonable that she was dedicated to elevating the status of women. Under her leadership, the number of female officials in her administration increased, bolstering her authority. After years, the position of female officials was merely equal to that of the male.
Why “merely”? Because people like Liu Shao still existed. Their conservative ideas dated back to the Shenchu era, before the reign of the empress, when women were considered inferior to men. Additionally, those who disapproved of the current situation were often driven by personal interests.
To Liu Shao’s disappointment, regardless of his opinion, the law was the law. All he could do was grumble.
This year, the Clerk of the Throne, who attracted everybody’s attention, was once again a “shero.” However, the newly appointed Clerk, Yao Maolin, didn’t consider herself as someone exceptional.
In Great Yu, one’s background was the primary factor in the mandarin selection process. Those born into noble families effortlessly ascended to high-ranking positions and entered politics with lucrative salaries and smooth careers, while those born into ordinary families must start from lower positions with rare promotion opportunities, even if they were talented.
In the eyes of others, Maolin had benefited from her powerful family, the House of Yao in Nanya. Furthermore, sheroes were not rare in Great Yu. Maolin could name more than a few women she considered superior to her, who wrote beautiful articles and were insightful in military matters.
At present, an embarrassment impeded her path to becoming a shero: she couldn’t ride a horse. As a child, Maolin rarely ventured beyond the school. Thus, she was well-versed in all classics and excelled in debates, but activities requiring physical strength eluded her.
Following the biennial selection, new officials must drive the carriage themselves to present themselves before the emperor, with classic books filling the carriage to demonstrate their knowledge and willingness to serve the emperor and Great Yu as loyal subjects. After departing the Hall of Taiji, they must parade through the streets of the capital before attending the Osmanthus Banquet. This procedure was a tradition passed down from ancestors, and no one would even think of changing it.
A row of sumptuous carriages lined the streets, creating a splendid scene from a distance. However, upon a closer look, the problem became apparent.
Gripping the reins tightly, Maolin was as stiff as a stone as she focused intently on maintaining her balance so as not to fall from the horse. Under the intense scrutiny as the new Clerk, she suppressed any hint of fear, forcing herself to step onto the stirrup and tighten the reins. The large red flower adorning the horse’s head trembled, mirroring the swaying of her slender frame. The smile on her face as she conversed with colleagues appeared forced and unnatural.
The thought of bringing disgrace upon the Yao family alarmed Maolin throughout the journey to the Garden of Tranquility. As she finally spotted the garden gates and breathed a sigh of relief, the horse suddenly stepped forward, causing Maolin to miss the stirrup. Everything flipped upside down. Maolin screamed, on the verge of falling.
If it weren’t for Zhen Wenjun’s timely help, the newly appointed Clerk of the Throne might have been too ashamed to face her colleagues after falling from the horse.
In a split second, a woman beside the horse grasped Maolin’s waist, preventing the new Clerk of the Throne from sliding off the bridle. Before Maolin could fully process the situation, the woman helped her back onto the horse with one push, firmly yet gently, causing no discomfort to the delicate girl and allowing her to ride as if nothing had happened.
“Th-thank you, General Zhen...” Maolin blushed with embarrassment, unable to meet the general’s gaze.
“The horse always teases new riders. Be careful, Clerk,” Wenjun said with a courteous smile, causing Maolin’s heart to race like thunder.
Maolin had long spotted her beloved idol, Wenjun, among the officials present. She was thrilled at the prospect of meeting the general and contemplated how to engage in conversation with her. Should she discuss Taoism or military matters? Perhaps the weather or simply exchange gossip? How could she showcase her uniqueness and humour to attract Wenjun? Maolin found herself pondering over these questions incessantly.
In the end, she managed to make an impression on the general, albeit not in the way she had hoped. How embarrassed she was to have nearly fallen from the horse in front of the gates of the Garden of Tranquility, especially in front of Wenjun and to have been rescued by her. Mixed feelings swirled within Maolin’s heart.
As a second-rank official, the general would attend the Osmanthus Banquet. For the occasion, she exchanged her armour for civilian attire. Gone was the heroic appearance witnessed by Maolin last year at the capital gate when the people welcomed her back. Instead, she wore a light turquoise dress embroidered with peonies, her hair adorned with a golden hairpin. Upon closer look, Wenjun emanated a soft, tender beauty, her gentle smile captivating despite several scars from years of war on her smooth, oval face.
The keen-eyed general noticed that the Clerk on horseback seemed to have something on her mind. Squinting her beautiful upturned eyes, Wenjun patiently waited for her to speak. Though it was merely a smile and a glance, Maolin felt as though Wenjun could see through her innermost thoughts. The general possessed a maturity that seemed beyond her years, despite being the same age as Maolin. Unable to utter a word, Maolin could only feel her face burning with embarrassment.
Wenjun was undoubtedly a military officer. However, in Great Yu’s tradition, civil officials were often considered more important than military ones. Since the first emperor of Great Yu, military officials capable of independently leading an army had been rare, especially female generals.
After the demise of the former empress, the current emperor sought to abolish the law allowing women to participate in politics. If not for Wenjun’s consistent victories on the battlefields, the court might have closed its doors to women for good.
Following the Zhaowu era was the Shunde era. In the third year of Shunde, Wenjun led three campaigns to suppress barbaric tribes in the north. After five years of war, the source of trouble that had plagued the people of Great Yu along the northern border for four decades was finally eradicated. The triumphant return of the general set the entire capital ablaze with excitement, with thousands of people flooding the streets to catch a glimpse of her.
Maolin was in the capital at the time participating in the official selection. Holding flowers purchased from a nearby flower shop, she attempted to catch up to Wenjun and her horse for several streets but failed to deliver her flowers to the general. Instead, she was jostled out of the crowd and stumbled into a noodle stall. Noodles spilt all over her clothes, and the flowers fell to the ground along with the romantic dreams of the adolescent girl.
In that year, praises were sung throughout the country. The general’s unparalleled courage and appearance made her the target of both women and men. However, despite the yearnings, Wenjun had gotten married long ago in the fourth year of the Zhaowu era.
Undoubtedly, the only person Maolin respected in all of Great Yu was the honourable, loyal, courageous, and beautiful general. Conversely, there was also a person for whom Maolin harboured a deep hatred. Normally, someone like Maolin, well-versed in the classics, should have learnt to be lenient and patient. However, there was one person at court with whom she could never get along, someone she would curse even in her dreams – the treacherous minister and bane of the country, Wei Tingxu.
Tingxu was none other than the first female official to have paved the way for women in court. She was now the Chief Minister of the Interior, one of the three most prominent officials. She hailed from the prestigious Wei family of Pingcang County, with her forefather holding the title of Duke of Cang in return for aiding the first emperor to found Great Yu. Over four generations, her large family had produced three dukes.
Entering the court at the young age of twenty-three as the emperor’s secretary, Tingxu swiftly rose through the ranks, becoming the Deputy Minister of Defence at twenty-seven, and then the Minister of Revenue a year later. By the sixth year of the Shunde era, she ascended to the Senate and assumed the role of Chief Minister of the Interior. Over the following years, she consolidated her power, marginalising her opponents. She now wielded significant influence over the politics of Great Yu, while the young emperor, whose ascent to the throne was orchestrated by her, acted as her puppet.
It was widely believed that she harboured ambitions to usurp the throne, that she was a malevolent criminal who manipulated court affairs for her personal gain. The mere mention of her name caused people to spit in disgust. Folklore even suggested that Tingxu was a manifestation of an ancient demon fox. Unlike other demon foxes who would lead emperors astray with indulgence, Tingxu harboured sinister intentions focused on seizing control of the country.
However, what Maolin found most unbearable was that Tingxu was the other half of her revered general. The news of their marriage had left Maolin sleepless for nights, filling her heart with bitterness towards Wenjun for over half a year.
Despite their status, ambitions, and public perception, Tingxu and Wenjun were pioneers in supporting the former empress’s new laws. Had they not been the first lesbian couple to marry, the current situation might have been entirely different. The couple, one focused on civil affairs and the other on military matters, significantly advanced the liberation of women in their respective domains.
However, followers of Wenjun, including Maolin, were still plagued by an unresolved dilemma. Why was the loyal general of Great Yu seemingly blind to Tingxu’s malevolence? Was there something hidden beneath the surface, such as coercion or manipulation?