Chapter Fifty-One: Night Tour of the Nine Provinces Pond

Behind the desk, Wu Zetian pondered for a moment. “This catchy rhyme is well-suited for children’s early education.”
Li Zhi nodded, his health balls whirling deftly in his hand. “Meiniang, you and I are thinking along the same lines.”
Standing to the side, Li Yuechen pretended not to understand their discussion. Observing that the tea was now boiling, she poured each of them a cup.
Li Zhi considered for a moment. “Chen’er, since Shangguan Wan’er helped compile this with you, what if I make her your official study companion?”
“Wonderful!” Li Yuechen clapped her hands in delight. “She’s my age, and we have so much fun together!”
Wu Zetian, standing nearby, voiced no objection and simply remained silent.
Li Zhi nodded, summoned Zhang Chengxin, and dictated the edict, which Li Yuechen would take back with her shortly.
After spending some time with her parents, Li Yuechen took the imperial edict and excused herself.
Only after she had left did Li Zhi, lounging on his reclining chair, break into a broad smile. “Who would’ve thought that this ‘Hundred Surnames’ rhyme would, quite unintentionally, resolve the issue of dissemination?”
“Indeed.” Wu Zetian nodded with a soft smile. “Its meaning is simple, and the rhyme is memorable—far more likely to spread than the ‘Genealogies of Noble Clans.’”
At this, she suddenly shook her head. “Still, I can’t help but wonder... Chen’er has never shown much interest in literature. How could she compose such a work, perfect for children’s enlightenment?”
Li Zhi grinned slyly. “Didn’t she say the first part was her own, and the latter by Shangguan Wan’er? But as for how much of it is ‘the first part’—that’s quite hard to say!”
Wu Zetian considered this and took a seat beside him. “No wonder our little Zhi insisted on having Shangguan Wan’er as her companion. With such a talented girl at her side, perhaps Chen’er’s temperament will improve as well.”
Li Zhi reopened the folded manuscript in his hand. “Speaking of which, Chen’er’s calligraphy is nearly mature. I ought to show this manuscript at court.”
“That might not be wise,” Wu Zetian said, a touch of concern in her voice. “Chen’er’s script is not in the mainstream tradition. If it draws criticism...”
“Hmph! She is my daughter—what right do they have to criticize?” Li Zhi set down the manuscript and took a light sip of tea.
Wu Zetian, seeing his confidence, said no more.
...
Elsewhere, Li Yuechen returned to Anfu Hall and found Shangguan Wan’er sitting at a desk with Madam Zheng, busy writing.
Li Yuechen held up the imperial edict and called out, “Madam Zheng, bring Wan’er here.”
Seeing the edict in Li Yuechen’s hand, Madam Zheng hurriedly pulled Shangguan Wan’er over to kneel.
But Li Yuechen did not read the edict aloud. Instead, she simply placed it into Madam Zheng’s hand. “From this day forth, Wan’er is my study companion.”
...
At first, Madam Zheng was startled—why wasn’t the edict even read aloud?
But she quickly collected herself. “Your servant thanks Your Highness for the favor!”
“No need for formalities,” Li Yuechen waved her hand and left first.
Madam Zheng quickly read through the edict, then pulled her daughter into her arms. “Wonderful, wonderful...”
“Mother...” Shangguan Wan’er asked, confused by her mother’s reaction.
Madam Zheng stroked her head and whispered, almost to herself, “From now on, you must devote yourself to accompanying the princess. Her Highness seems to really enjoy your company. If you can maintain a good relationship with her, even the deep palace walls will not hold you.”
Back in her inner chambers, Li Yuechen had just lain down when a thought struck her.
Now that the ‘Hundred Surnames’ had appeared through her hands, what would become of the original author?
She soon shook her head to dismiss it. If one were to speak of the butterfly effect, history had already begun to shift the moment she invented the health balls.
Touching the second loose tooth in her mouth, Li Yuechen decided to simply live her own life well.
As for all those other troubles—she wouldn’t live to see them anyway, so why worry?
...
A few days later, it was another court day.
On this occasion, Li Yuechen did not attend to listen to the news. Instead, she was practicing martial arts in Anfu Hall.
Seated on the dragon throne, Li Zhi listened to the court affairs, then produced the folded manuscript written by Li Yuechen. “Some days past, Taiping composed a rhyme of the ‘Hundred Surnames.’ I find it very fitting for children’s education. Let all my ministers examine it.”
With that, he handed the manuscript to Zhang Chengxin to pass among the ministers.
Zhang Chengxin approached the court, unfolded the manuscript with both hands, and displayed it for all to see.
The first thing that caught the eye was the calligraphy—sharp as a blade’s edge, strikingly bold.
This style, so out of step with current fashions, made several ministers bristle with indignation.
What if it’s beautiful? In calligraphy, smoothness is prized. Such aggressive strokes—what are you trying to prove?
But then they remembered: this was the emperor’s daughter’s handwriting. If her own father said nothing, what right had they to lecture the princess?
Suppressing their irritation, they began to read.
...
The ‘Hundred Surnames,’ at heart, was no profound treatise—just a simple rhyme.
Yet the ministers noticed something peculiar:
The emperor and empress’s surnames topped the list, while those of the great aristocratic clans were relegated to the end.
The text itself was not long—just a few hundred characters—so it took little time to read.
Lu Xu was the first to speak up. “Your Majesty, why is my Lu clan ranked so far back? Is this an attempt to suppress us?”
Li Zhi spun the health balls in his hand and smiled. “How old is the princess? Don’t you know? Suppression? It’s just for the sake of rhyme!”
“But... but this...”
He was utterly at a loss for words. If the emperor himself was so dismissive, to press further would be to vent his frustration upon the princess.
Besides, how would it look—a grown man bickering with a girl of six or seven? Children spoke without guile; it would reflect poorly on him.
And really, what right did any of them have to take out their grievances on the emperor’s daughter? The censors might dare criticize the emperor, but even they would never dare speak harshly of his child.
Moreover, she was a princess—placing her parents’, teacher’s, and grandmother’s surnames at the front seemed only natural, even a sign of filial piety.
In the end, though many ministers were inwardly discontented, none dared voice it.
Li Zhi was delighted by the outcome; his smile was broader than usual as he left the court with Wu Zetian at his side.
Wu Zetian, seeing his cheerful expression, could not help but cover her mouth and laugh.
...
By the end of May, the heat had become unbearable.
If one used the future Gregorian calendar, it was already nearly August.
In such weather, wearing long sleeves and trousers every day was torment for Li Yuechen.
Her greatest pleasure was to sprawl out on the floor—the only way to cool off a bit, though she had to move every so often to find a cooler spot.
At dusk, once the sun had dropped, she would run to Linbo Pavilion, dip her feet in the pond, and splash the water with her sisters and Shangguan Wan’er, who joined her almost every night.
The one advantage of this era was the flourishing incense industry—burning incense at night kept mosquitoes away and filled the air with pleasant fragrance.
Especially the silver sachet she wore: wherever she went, she was enveloped in scent.
These days, every evening, Li Zhi would stroll through Yaoguang Hall with Wu Zetian, admiring the scenery and enjoying the evening breeze that swept over the Jiuzhou Pond.
Li Yuechen often brought her sisters to join their parents and enjoy the cool air together.
That evening, the family gathered on the terrace of Yaoguang Hall, kicking shuttlecocks in the wind.
Li Zhi’s health had improved of late; he tied up his robe and played with his family in high spirits.
Princess Yiyang kicked the shuttlecock his way, and Li Zhi, imitating a move his daughter had once shown, executed a large, sweeping kick.
He overdid it—the shuttlecock flew up and got stuck on a beam.
“A slip of the foot...”
Li Zhi laughed, waving his hand, and told a nearby eunuch to retrieve it.
The eunuch, being short, had to climb onto the railing and grab the pillar.
The wooden railing, lacquered red, must have been slippery—he lost his footing and fell.
“Ah—splash!”
Hearing the sudden, unfinished scream and the heavy splash, everyone rushed to the railing and looked down.
Li Yuechen’s heart sank. The foundation of Yaoguang Hall was nearly ten meters high—falling from that height into water was dangerous.
Looking over, she saw the eunuch flailing in the pond, his head bobbing up and down—clearly unable to swim.
Li Zhi immediately called out, “Anyone who can swim—go save him!”
The maids and eunuchs all stepped back in unison. In this era, unless one lived by a river or the sea, almost no one could swim.
Li Yuechen, sighing inwardly at their incompetence, began to remove her shoes.
Wu Zetian noticed and shouted, “You little rascal, what do you think you’re doing?”
As she called out, Li Yuechen had already broken into a run. Li Zhi hadn’t even had time to react.
Li Yuechen’s pale, delicate feet landed on the railing; she twisted in the air, executed a graceful flip, and dove headfirst into the water.
She had already inquired about Jiuzhou Pond’s depth when she first arrived in the Eastern Capital: a little over three meters—perfectly safe from this height.
...
By the time Li Zhi and the others reached the railing and peered down, Li Yuechen had already sliced into the water, barely making a splash.
Within seconds, she surfaced behind the struggling eunuch, hooked one arm around his neck, and began towing him to shore with her other hand, swimming efficiently.
The eunuch, his neck encircled by her slender arm, instinctively tried to pry her off—yet despite her delicate appearance, her grip was unbreakable, leaving him coughing and gasping.
Li Zhi and the others hurried down, running to the pond’s edge.
Several eunuchs and maids waded in to help, pulling the nearly strangled eunuch ashore as Li Yuechen reached the bank.
Li Yuechen shook the water from her hands, slicked her messy hair back, and thought, “So refreshing!”
“You impudent child!” Wu Zetian stormed over, raising her hand as if to strike. “Is there anything you won’t dare to do?”
“Don’t hit me...” Li Yuechen laughed, jumping back into the deep water. “Mother, if you break me, who will love you?”
“Get back here, you little brat!” Wu Zetian shouted.
Li Zhi waved his hand. “Enough, Chen’er is unharmed. Come on, Chen’er, get out of the water!”
Only then did Li Yuechen swim ashore. Wu Zetian advanced, but Li Zhi stopped her.
He crouched beside Li Yuechen. “Chen’er, how did you learn to swim?”
“It’s simple—when it’s hot, I play in the water and picked it up,” Li Yuechen replied lightly. “And Father, soaking in the pond is the best way to stay cool in summer!”
“You mustn’t be so reckless in the future, understand?” Li Zhi admonished.
“Yes, but now that you and Mother know I can swim, there’s nothing to worry about,” Li Yuechen replied.
Wu Zetian scowled. “You little fiend—jumping in without a word, trying to frighten me to death?”
“I didn’t mean to, Mother.” Li Yuechen grinned. “But if he’d drowned, it would have been a disgrace to the royal family!”
By now the rescued eunuch had recovered.
He stepped forward, knelt, and kowtowed repeatedly. “This servant thanks Your Highness for saving my life! This servant is forever grateful...”
“That’s enough. Get up!”
Li Yuechen was uncomfortable with people kowtowing to her and waved her hand. “Go change your clothes or you’ll catch cold.”
“And you have time to care for others?” Wu Zetian scolded. “Look at yourself!”
“Don’t worry, Mother, I’m strong and healthy—I won’t catch cold.” Li Yuechen struck a pose, flexing her biceps.
After years of diligent exercise and a diet rich in meat and fish, she was in excellent shape.
If even that couldn’t keep her healthy, she might as well hang herself from the nearest tree.
“Indeed,” Li Zhi nodded. “If you know how to swim, it’s good to play in the pond during the summer.”
“Your Majesty!” Wu Zetian said sharply.
Li Yuechen seized the opportunity. “Father, Mother, why don’t I teach you both to swim? It’s really refreshing!”
“Hm?” Wu Zetian was taken aback. The little rascal was already suggesting swimming lessons while being scolded?
But Li Zhi looked thoughtful. Without fans or air conditioning, summers truly were hard to bear.
Seeing him seriously considering it, Wu Zetian despaired of both father and daughter.
“There’s sense in that. We ought to give it a try.” Li Zhi nodded.
Li Yuechen bounced in place. “Very well! Tomorrow I’ll have the Wardrobe Bureau make swimsuits.”
“Swimsuits? What are those?” Li Zhi asked.
“Their regular clothes are too cumbersome for swimming. I’ll ask the Wardrobe Bureau to make something suitable for the water,” Li Yuechen explained.
“Excellent. I look forward to seeing them!” Li Zhi laughed.
“Your Majesty, you—”
Li Zhi waved her off. “No harm in trying.”
In the end, Wu Zetian only sighed deeply, saying nothing more.
“All right, it’s getting late. Chen’er, go bathe, change your clothes, and get some rest.”
With Li Zhi’s command, the evening’s activities drew to a close.