Chapter Thirty-six: The Passing of Li Chunfeng

The month of December had arrived, and at last, snow began to fall. The red walls and green tiles of the Daming Palace were blanketed in pristine white, turning everything into a shimmering silver landscape.

Li Yuechen draped herself in a thick cloak, making her look from afar like a furry little creature, almost like a small monster.

Today was the first of the month. After her morning training, she went to the Hall of the Three Pure Ones to recite sutras. Near noon, she stepped out, originally intending to visit the court to catch up on the latest news, but Fu Lai informed her that court had already been dismissed for the day.

With nothing pressing to occupy her, Li Yuechen was struck by a sudden impulse to visit her nominal master, Li Chunfeng. Legends in later generations praised him as one who could speak of the future—she wondered if any of it was true.

She boarded a carriage and left the palace, making her way to Li Chunfeng’s residence. After knocking, the door creaked open a crack, revealing a young Taoist priest, who appeared to be under twenty.

Though the young priest had never seen Li Yuechen in person, he knew that Li Chunfeng had taken a princess as his disciple. Noting the luxurious carriage, the twenty-odd armored guards, and the little girl with big, adorable eyes standing outside in her heavy cloak, he quickly guessed her identity.

He hurried to open the door wide and bowed, saying, “Greetings, Your Highness.”

“At ease,” Li Yuechen replied, raising her hand slightly. “Where is my master?”

“He is here,” the young priest replied, nodding. “However, I just checked on him—Master has not yet risen.”

As he spoke, he stepped aside to let Li Yuechen in.

She crossed the threshold, curiosity piqued. “Not yet risen? Did he stay up late last night?”

“This…I do not know. Master is always disciplined; it seems unlikely,” the priest answered.

“Go and check on him quickly. It would be unfortunate if he had fallen ill,” Li Yuechen instructed, waving her hand.

The priest led the way respectfully, saying, “You jest, Your Highness. Master is also skilled in medicine—if he were ill, surely he would know himself.”

As they spoke, they arrived at Li Chunfeng’s chamber. The young priest opened the door and glanced inside, then stepped aside. “Please look, Your Highness—Master is still asleep!”

Li Yuechen peered inside, causing the young priest to look on in astonishment. A young lady brazenly observing a sleeping man! Though women were indeed freer in the Tang Dynasty, such a thing was unheard of.

But she was a princess—what could he say? He quickly turned away, pretending to see nothing.

Li Yuechen saw Li Chunfeng lying under his quilt, seemingly asleep. She was about to turn and leave when she suddenly noticed something odd—there was no brazier in the room, and the temperature was very low. Yet Li Chunfeng’s mouth was slightly open, and there was no sign of the white mist of breath.

Sensing something was wrong, Li Yuechen halted. She strode forward, pushing the door fully open with a forceful thud, and stepped inside.

Behind her, Xiao He and Fu Lai sensed something amiss, but by the time they tried to intervene, it was too late. They could only follow to the doorway, watching her enter.

Li Yuechen hurried to the bedside, placing her hand on Li Chunfeng’s face. As she suspected, it was icy cold. Alarmed, she checked his neck—no pulse at all! Most tellingly, rigor mortis had already set in.

“Someone!” Li Yuechen called out sharply.

“Here!” Fu Lai at the door replied at once.

Li Yuechen walked out, pointing at the young priest. “Detain this man! Send for the Ministry of Justice—have them come and investigate my master’s cause of death!”

“What? Master has passed away?” the young priest cried out in shock, rushing toward the door, only to be seized and pinned to the ground by Fu Lai.

Xiao He quickly summoned the palace guards, who entered and detained the priest.

Li Yuechen did not know whether the priest was involved in her master’s death. She hoped he was not, but for now, he was certainly a prime suspect.

Fu Lai dispatched one guard to summon the Ministry of Justice and another to the palace to inform the Emperor.

When other guards tried to enter the room, Li Yuechen stopped them. “Stay out. We must not destroy any evidence. Wait for the Ministry of Justice.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the guards replied.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!” the detained young priest cried out, “I am innocent! I did not harm Master!”

Li Yuechen nodded. “I hope so as well. But as his disciple, I cannot let my master die with his cause unknown. Be quiet and wait.”

She turned away, standing in the courtyard, pondering how her master could have died. He had always been robust, with no known ailments. From her brief observation, his expression was peaceful—there were no signs of a struggle.

But that was all she could deduce. She had no experience in criminal investigation or post-mortem examination. These matters would have to wait for the experts.

Fu Lai, standing silently behind her, watched her back with a trace of excitement in his eyes.

Fu Lai truly felt fortunate. Years ago, when he was assigned to serve the little princess, he had been uneasy. After all, serving a prince could lead to great fortune if he ascended the throne. But a princess, no matter how favored, would always be distant from power.

Until she was three, the princess never spoke, which only deepened Fu Lai’s worries. The only comfort was that she was kind-hearted and gentle, never mistreating the servants. This made them all genuinely pity the silent young princess.

Then she finally spoke, delighting all the servants. She began inventing clever little things, winning even more favor and building close relationships with her brothers. Fu Lai thought that if things continued this way, whichever prince became emperor, the princess would always have a voice.

What surprised him most was her composure in handling matters. Whether in the Helan Minzhi incident or now, she always responded calmly and decisively. Over the years, watching her grow, Fu Lai was continually amazed. Not to mention, she had entrusted him with the management of her future shop.

With all this, Fu Lai now felt that serving this princess was his true good fortune.

Oblivious to Fu Lai’s thoughts, Li Yuechen tried to recall investigative methods from crime dramas she’d seen. Though she knew many were unrealistic, the basic principles surely surpassed those of this era.

Snow began to fall heavily. Li Yuechen looked up at the swirling flakes and sighed softly for her master’s untimely fate.

“Your Highness, it’s snowing fiercely. You shouldn’t remain outside,” Xiao He came to remind her.

“It’s nothing,” Li Yuechen replied with a wave of her hand.

Soon, officials from the Ministry of Justice arrived. Since the guards had reported that the princess herself was present, the Minister of Justice, Liu Yue, personally led the investigation.

“Liu Yue, at your service, Your Highness,” the minister bowed formally.

Li Yuechen nodded. “No need for formality. My master has passed—I ask that you investigate thoroughly.”

Here, the title “Minister” referred to Liu Yue’s official position—unlike the emperor, who addressed all his ministers as “Minister.” If he were a chancellor, he would be called Minister Liu; if he served in the Secretariat or Chancellery, he would be called Elder Liu.

“Rest assured, Your Highness. I will devote all my efforts,” Liu Yue pledged.

Li Yuechen explained her visit and added, “While I suspect this young priest, if he is proven innocent, release him.”

She made a point of saying this to avoid any misunderstanding that she wished harm on the priest. In officialdom, everyone was wily—best to be clear.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Liu Yue replied.

After instructing them to inform her once the case was solved, Li Yuechen returned to the palace. Her continued presence would only hamper the investigation.

Back at the palace, she was met by a young eunuch sent by Zhang Chengxin, summoning her to Yan Ying Hall.

Upon arrival, Li Zhi took her in his arms and comforted her. “Chen’er, I’ve heard about your master’s passing. Do not grieve too much.”

Li Yuechen nodded. “I found it suspicious, so I privately instructed the Ministry of Justice to investigate. I hope Father will not be displeased.”

“It’s nothing. As a disciple, it is right to seek the truth for your master,” Li Zhi smiled, stroking her head. “I am not displeased.”

From his attitude, Li Yuechen realized he was trying to comfort her out of concern for her feelings. In truth, she was not particularly sad.

After all, she and Li Chunfeng were master and disciple in name only, and had barely met. She acted out of duty, nothing more.

Still, Li Zhi’s proactive comfort signaled that her years of effort had paid off. She now held a significant place in his heart. Having succeeded with her father, she thought, next she must win over her mother.

Thinking of ways to please a woman, Li Yuechen’s first thought was cosmetics. But she didn’t know how to make them! Most modern cosmetics were chemical products, and she was completely ignorant of such things.

Most of the girls she knew were extreme sports enthusiasts. She couldn’t very well take the future empress surfing or skiing, could she? What else could she use to cheer her up? Held in her father's arms, Li Yuechen fell deep into thought.

Li Zhi, seeing his daughter lost in thought, assumed she was mourning Li Chunfeng and quietly patted her back in comfort, pacing slowly.

At the desk, Wu Zetian glanced up, shook her head helplessly, and returned to her documents. Her daughter was so favored that even she, the empress, felt a twinge of jealousy. She ordered Zhang Chengxin to bring a jar of preserves.

Several days later, Liu Yue sent word through Fu Lai to Li Yuechen: the young priest had nothing to do with Li Chunfeng’s death. There were no signs of poisoning, injuries, or struggle. It appeared he had simply passed away in his sleep. Most importantly, the priest had no motive to harm him.

After hearing the report, Li Yuechen nodded and instructed Fu Lai to release the priest.

Perhaps because Li Chunfeng was her master, Li Zhi posthumously promoted him to Grand Historian and provided a coffin, appointing his son Li Yan as the new Grand Historian.

As the year drew to a close, the city of Chang’an was alive with New Year’s celebrations. With Li Zhi’s abolition of the tradition of officials attending the palace banquet on New Year’s Eve, the court was filled with optimism.

But Li Yuechen’s thoughts were with those suffering from drought—would they have a good year?

As an extreme sports athlete, Li Yuechen understood that only in a prosperous and strong nation could people like her pursue their passions without worrying about survival. Many believed extreme athletes were thrill-seekers courting death, but in truth, they cherished life more deeply and valued the peace and strength of their country.

Extreme sports were not about seeking death, but about finding oneself and experiencing the fullness of being alive. Every leap through the sky or conquest of nature’s dangers brought a heartfelt exclamation: “Long live life!” And a quiet affirmation: “It’s good to be alive!”

The true spirit of extreme sports was not nihilism, but unending struggle and the pursuit of self-transcendence—a message every extreme athlete wished to convey.

Leaving the court, Li Yuechen gazed at the falling snow, listening to the discussions behind her, and walked toward Chengxiang Hall.

Outside, seeing Li Yuechen return, Shangguan Wan’er bounded over.

“Careful, don’t slip,” Li Yuechen called out with a smile.

“I wanted to play shuttlecock with Your Highness,” Shangguan Wan’er said shyly.

Li Yuechen took her hand, laughing. “With snow falling like this, let’s build a snowman instead!”

She ordered Fu Lai to fetch two pairs of gloves, and together with Shangguan Wan’er set about building a snowman outside the hall.

It’s worth noting that the gloves of this era were already much like future mittens, with four fingers together and the thumb separate, allowing for a good grip. Made of genuine leather, they were incredibly warm and soft inside—exceptionally comfortable.