The Next Morning
As usual, I went to the Hu-girl wine shop in the West Market early in the morning.
He was already in the private room. Today, he wore a deep cyan round-collar robe, his hair tied up with a white jade hairpin. He was looking down at some sort of booklet. Morning light filtered through the cracks in the window, falling on his shoulders, casting a soft sheen on that deep cyan robe. His eyes were lowered, his eyelashes casting a fan-shaped shadow on his cheekbones; the lines of his profile were as clean-cut as if sliced by a knife.
Hearing me enter, he lifted his eyelids slightly, closed the booklet, and casually tucked it into his sleeve. The movement was casual, yet beautiful—his fingers were slender, his knuckles distinct, the pads of his fingers pressing lightly against the spine of the book before pushing it; the booklet slid smoothly into his cuff.
"Did Your Highness sleep well last night?" I asked while taking out my tools.
"Acceptably." He leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling on my face. "That tooth powder of yours is indeed useful."
"That's good."
I washed my hands and walked over to him. Without me saying a word, he微微 opened his mouth—he had already formed the habit after just two days. I moved closer. Today, the swelling and redness of his gums had subsided significantly, but when I gently inserted a bamboo probe into the periodontal gap, he still frowned slightly. The morning light streamed in from the window, falling on his face; I could clearly see the tense arc of his jawline.
"Did Your Highness eat anything today?"
"I had a bowl of porridge."
"Sweet or savory?"
"...I added some cane syrup."
My hand paused. I looked up at him. He looked straight ahead with an expressionless face, as if stating something very ordinary. But the roots of his ears were slightly red—not noticeable unless one looked closely.
"Your Highness," I said, "before the pulpitis is fully healed, you cannot eat sweets."
"It was only a little."
"Even a little is sugar." I picked some tooth powder from the jar and dipped a cotton strip into it. "Sweets will make those... make the inflammation worse."
He looked at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Every time you mention those 'very small things,' you pause."
"What?"
"Bacteria." When he spoke these two words, he enunciated slowly, his tongue tip lightly pressing against the roof of his mouth, as if tasting a strange word. "You said sweets make them grow faster."
I didn't respond, simply handing the cotton strip to his mouth. He opened his mouth, allowing me to continue wiping his gums. The cooling scent of honeysuckle and mint dispersed; he relaxed slightly, and the shoulders leaning against the chair back also loosened.
"Qingyan," he suddenly said, his voice very low, "from whom did you learn your medical skills?"
"From a very faraway place."
"Changzhou?"
"...Farther than Changzhou."
"How far?"
I didn't answer, simply changing to a clean cotton strip. His gaze remained fixed on my face, as if waiting for me to misspeak. I steadied my hand and continued wiping the last molar. The private room was so quiet one could hear the faint sound of agarwood burning, his steady breathing, and even my own heartbeat.
After wiping the last tooth, I straightened up and stretched my sore neck.
"Your Highness, starting tomorrow, we need to begin periodontal treatment."
"Periodontal treatment?" He repeated the term.
"It means... cleaning the dirt around the tooth roots thoroughly." I gestured slightly. "Only then can it be cured fundamentally."
"How long will it take?"
"Depending on the recovery, probably a few days."
"Then come every day."
"Alright."
I pulled a silk thread from my sleeve and held it up before him. He looked at the thread, then at me, and raised an eyebrow—that expression was beautiful, the arc of his brow peak resembling a graceful parabola.
"What is this?"
"Dental floss."
"Use this... to brush teeth?"
"Not to brush teeth, but to clean between the teeth." I wrapped the silk thread around my fingers. "Does Your Highness know that teeth have five surfaces? Brushing can only reach three; the two surfaces inside the gaps between teeth cannot be reached. Therefore, dental floss is needed to clear out the debris between the teeth."
"Is this silk thread from your aunt's family?"
"Yes, cut from the edge of a silk damask." I waved the thread. "Although not specialized, it can barely suffice."
He fell silent for a moment. His slender fingers tapped lightly on the table surface: once, twice.
"Qingyan," he said, "are you sure you are not trifling with this King?"
"Would I dare trifle with Your Highness?"
"You even dare to put your fingers inside this King's mouth; what else would you not dare to do?"
I paused. He looked at me, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned; there was no blame in his gaze, but rather a kind of... confirmation?
"Your Highness," I said, "in my eyes, all mouths are the same."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I mean—no matter who it is, if there is a problem with the teeth, the treatment method is the same."
"Is that so?" He leaned back in his chair. "Then if it were my father the Emperor's toothache, would you also dare to stick your fingers in?"
"...I would use tools first."
He laughed. The laughter wasn't loud, but in the quiet private room, it was exceptionally clear, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, rippling out circle by circle.
I lowered my head to pack my tools, pretending not to notice his gaze resting on me.
"Bring the dental floss tomorrow," he said.
"Alright."
"Bring more."
"Does Your Highness intend to distribute it to the guards?"
He glanced at me, his tone indifferent: "This King will use it himself."
Suppressing a smile, I nodded.
The Chess Game
That evening, I did not return directly to my aunt's house.
I asked Qingyuan to go back first while I wandered around the West Market. It wasn't idle strolling—I was thinking about something.
His words from last night were still spinning in my mind. "Are you a person of Empress Wei, or of Princess Taiping?" When he asked this, a knife was at my throat. He wasn't threatening me; he would truly kill me. A woman of unknown origin, suddenly appearing in Chang'an, suddenly appearing before him—in this court, everyone was choosing sides, everyone was plotting. He trusted no one.
But I needed him to trust me.
Not because he was handsome. But because—he was Li Longji. The future Emperor of the Great Tang. And I was merely a transmigrated dentist, with no status, no backing, no ability to protect myself. If even he didn't trust me, I wouldn't survive three days in this era.
I stood at the street corner of the West Market, watching the coming and going pedestrians. A Hu merchant led a camel past, the camel bells jingling. An old man selling Hu cakes was shouting, steam rising from the oven. In the distance, several people wearing black robes walked hurriedly, tokens hanging at their waists—were they from the Eastern Palace? Or from Princess Taiping's faction?
I turned and walked back. When I reached the entrance of the alley where my aunt lived, I stopped.
A person was standing at the alley entrance, leaning against the wall, holding a pot of wine. Moon-white robes, hair tied with a jade hairpin. The moonlight shone on him, outlining his silhouette clearly.
"Your Highness?"
"Waiting for you." He shook the wine pot in his hand. "It's boring for this King to drink alone."
"How did Your Highness know I would be here?"
"I investigated." He stated it frankly. "Gu Qingyan, from Changzhou, came to Chang'an to seek relatives. Aunt's home is in Chongren Ward. Returns every day at You hour (5-7 PM)."
I stood before him, my heart beating fast. "Your Highness investigated me?"
"This King investigates everyone who appears by my side." He looked at me; under the moonlight, those eyes were very bright. "Those words of yours yesterday—'help you ascend to that position'—this King has been thinking about them for a long time."
"Has Your Highness figured it out?"
"No." He leaned back against the wall and tilted his head to take a sip of wine. His Adam's apple rolled; the moonlight shone on the side of his neck, the lines looking very good. "So I came to ask you."
The alley was very quiet. In the distance, the watchman's clapper sounded, one slow and three fast. The wind blew, carrying the coolness of early autumn.
"What does Your Highness wish to ask?"
"On what grounds can you help me?" He looked at me. "You, a woman, with no troops, no power, no silver. On what grounds do you claim you can help me?"
I looked into his eyes. Those eyes were very deep under the moonlight, like a bottomless well. There was light in the well, the kind of light that had been buried for a long time and finally dug out.
"Your Highness, do you know what your biggest problem is right now?" I asked.
He didn't speak, waiting for me to continue.
"It is not Princess Taiping. It is not the remnants of Empress Wei's faction. It is not those in the court who oppose you."
"Then what is it?"
"It is Song Wang, Li Chengqi."
His gaze shifted slightly.
"Song Wang Li Chengqi, Your Highness's elder brother. The eldest legitimate son. According to ritual law, that position should be his. He does not fight for it, not because he doesn't want to, but because he knows now is not the time. He is waiting. Waiting for you to make a mistake, waiting for Princess Taiping to pull you down, waiting for the court officials to lose hope in you. His not fighting is his greatest fight."
The alley was utterly silent. The moonlight shone on his face; his expression was unclear.
"Continue."
"What Your Highness needs most right now is not a strategist, nor an advisor. It is to make Li Chengqi forever unable to open his mouth [to claim the throne]."
"How to make him unable to open his mouth?"
"Let him open it himself," I said. "Let him say it personally in front of the entire court—that he does not want it."
He looked at me, his gaze changing. "How could he possibly—"
"Does Your Highness know what Li Chengqi likes most?"
"Calligraphy and painting. He loves them more than anything."
"Then start with calligraphy and painting," I said. "Has Your Highness ever thought, if he voluntarily submits a memorial to decline, what would His Majesty think? What would the court officials think? What would the people of the world think?"
He was silent for a long time.
"You mean—let him voluntarily yield wisdom?"
"Not yield wisdom," I corrected. "Make him feel that being a prince is freer than being the heir apparent. Right now, Your Highness is rushing to fight for it, so he feels that position is even more important. What if Your Highness doesn't fight? What if Your Highness goes to him every day to appreciate paintings, discuss calligraphy, and drink wine, acting as if you don't care about that position at all?"
Under the moonlight, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
"His greatest advantage is being the eldest legitimate son; his greatest disadvantage is also being the eldest legitimate son," I continued. "He is the eldest legitimate son, so he cannot make mistakes. Not a single mistake. But Your Highness can. Your Highness is the second son; you can make mistakes, you can be impulsive, you can be imperfect. The more imperfect Your Highness is, the more perfect he has to appear. The more perfect he has to appear, the more tired he becomes. The more tired he becomes, the more he wants to escape."
He stood up straight. That pot of wine had been put down sometime ago; both his hands were empty, hanging by his sides.
"What Your Highness needs to do is not to defeat him," I said. "It is to make him withdraw on his own."
He looked at me for a long time. So long that I thought he was about to turn and leave.
Then he smiled.
That smile—not mocking, not probing, but a true smile welling up from the bottom of his heart. The moonlight shone on his face, illuminating his eyebrows and eyes brightly.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Who exactly are you?"
"As I said, I come from a very faraway place."
"Are all people from that place like you?"
I thought for a moment. "Many are far more capable than I am."
He walked up to me. Very close, close enough for me to smell the agarwood on him, close enough to see the moonlight in the depths of his eyes.
"Then why did you come here?"
"I don't know," I said. "But since I am here, I must survive."
"How to survive?"
"Find someone who can protect me."
He looked at me. "Have you found him?"
I looked into his eyes. Those eyes were very bright under the moonlight, brighter than the lamps of Chang'an City.
"I have found him," I said.
Placing the Stone
On the third day, Li Longji went to Song Wang's residence.
He brought wine, brought his own calligraphy, and brought a copy of Wang Xizhi's work obtained from the palace. It was said that he sat in Song Wang's residence for an entire afternoon, drinking and discussing calligraphy with his elder brother, having a delightful conversation. When leaving, Li Chengqi personally escorted him to the door, holding his hand and saying, "Second brother, come often."
When the news reached Princess Taiping's ears, her people looked at each other in dismay. The struggle for the heir position was supposed to be swords drawn, tension like water and fire. Who struggles like this?
On the fourth day, he went again. This time he didn't bring calligraphy; he brought tea. It was said he drank tea in Song Wang's residence all afternoon, listening to his elder brother talk about paintings, clapping and cheering when he became engrossed.
On the fifth day, he had someone deliver a painting. It was a work by Zhan Ziqian that Li Chengqi had been looking for but couldn't find for a long time.
On the sixth day, Li Chengqi sent a piece of calligraphy in return.
On the seventh day, Li Longji brought that piece of calligraphy to me.
"Qingyan, look." He spread the calligraphy out on the table. The characters were written very neatly, but the brushstrokes were soft and weak, lacking a vital breath.
"What does Your Highness see?"
"He is tired." His voice was calm, but the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned. "He is thinking every day about what I am doing. Thinking about why I go to find him, thinking about what I am actually plotting. He thinks too much, so the calligraphy turns out poorly."
I looked at that piece of calligraphy. "Your Highness, what do you plan to do next?"
"Nothing." He rolled up the calligraphy. "Continue going. Drink wine, appreciate paintings, discuss calligraphy. Let him continue thinking. The more he thinks, the more tired he becomes. The more tired he becomes, the more he wants to escape."
He walked to the window and pushed it open. The twilight of Chang'an City was sinking; the last streak of orange in the sky was fading.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Do you know, I used to think that fighting for that position was like war. Whoever has more troops, more power, harder fists, wins."
"And now?"
"Now I know that some battles can be won without fighting." He turned to look at me. "As long as you make the opponent admit defeat themselves."
Twilight streamed in from behind him, outlining his silhouette with a golden rim. His eyes were very bright, brighter than the twilight.
The Eye of the Chessboard
On the tenth day, Li Chengqi submitted a memorial.
It was not a memorial declining the position of heir apparent—not yet at that step. It was a request for external assignment. He said he wanted to go to Jiangnan to recuperate from illness, said the weather in Chang'an didn't suit him, said he wanted to find a quiet place to read and paint.
When the memorial was delivered to Emperor Ruizong, the court erupted in an uproar.
Princess Taiping's faction panicked. Li Chengqi was their biggest chip in the struggle for the heir position. If he left, who would contend with Li Longji?
Li Longji stood in the court and said nothing.
After court adjourned, he came to find me.
"Qingyan."
"Your Highness, I heard."
"He submitted a memorial requesting external assignment." He sat in the chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. "Princess Taiping's people blocked it. They said Song Wang cannot leave."
"What does Your Highness think?"
"I am thinking, if he really left—"
"He won't leave," I said.
He looked at me.
"Princess Taiping won't let him leave. And Your Highness won't let him leave either."
"Why?"
"Because if he leaves, Princess Taiping loses her chip. She needs him in Chang'an, needs him by Your Highness's side, needs someone who can be pushed forward at any time. If Your Highness lets him leave now, Princess Taiping will find someone else. Someone more troublesome."
He looked at me, his gaze very deep.
"Then does Your Highness think he should leave or not?"
"He should leave. But not now." I looked at him. "Wait until he completely stops wanting to fight. Wait until he voluntarily submits a memorial to decline. Wait until everyone in the world knows—that position was not seized by Your Highness, but yielded by him."
He was silent for a long time.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Do you know, you resemble someone very much."
"Who?"
"My mother." He said it very calmly, but I saw his fingers gripping the teacup tighten. "She was very smart. Smarter than everyone. If she were here—I wouldn't have walked this path alone for so long."
I didn't speak. He didn't speak either. Moonlight streamed in through the window, falling on his face, casting fine shadows from his eyelashes.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"You will win."
He looked at me and smiled. "How do you know?"
"Because Your Highness listens to advice."
He paused. Then he burst out laughing.
"Qingyan, you are the first person who dares to say this King 'listens to advice'."
"I am Your Highness's dentist. Patients must listen to their dentist."
He shook his head, smiling. Under the moonlight, his smile was very beautiful.
Closing the Net
Another half-month passed.
Li Longji still went to Song Wang's residence every day. Drinking wine, appreciating paintings, discussing calligraphy. Li Chengqi went from initial vigilance, to gradually relaxing, to eventually actually starting to look forward to his younger brother's arrival.
"Today he showed me another painting," Li Chengqi remarked to others at a banquet. "Second brother's taste is indeed uncommon."
What he didn't know was that every painting, every pot of wine, every discussion on calligraphy was carefully selected by Li Longji. Yao Chong screened them behind the scenes: which paintings Li Chengqi would like, which books would resonate with him, which topics would make him lower his guard.
And I was in the dental clinic, waiting for news.
On the sixteenth day, after drinking, Li Chengqi said a sentence to Li Longji: "Second brother, to be honest, sometimes I feel you are more suitable for that position than I am."
Li Longji didn't respond. He simply poured another cup of wine for his elder brother.
On the seventeenth day, Li Chengqi said it again.
On the eighteenth day, he said it for the third time.
On the twentieth day, Li Chengqi locked himself in his study and wrote a memorial all night. The next morning, his servant found him asleep on his desk, with wet ink stains still on his face.
The memorial read: Subject Chengqi, my talent is inferior to my second brother, my virtue is unworthy of the heir position. I wish to be an idle man, dedicating myself to landscapes and waters.
Princess Taiping's people intercepted this memorial. But it was useless. The words had already been spoken, said at a banquet, heard by more than one person. News spread throughout Chang'an City like the wind.
When Li Longji came to find me, he brought a pot of wine.
"Qingyan, drink a cup with me."
"Your Highness, your teeth—"
"Just one cup."
I took the wine pot and poured two cups. He lifted one, took a sip, leaned back in his chair, and looked at the moon outside the window.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Do you know, today when Li Chengqi was writing the memorial, he locked himself in his study all night."
"How does Your Highness know?"
"His servant told me." He paused. "I was wondering, when he was writing those words, were his hands trembling?"
"Is Your Highness feeling pity?"
He was silent for a moment. "Not pity. It is—" He didn't finish.
I understood. It was empathy. They were both sons of Li Dan, both in this city of Chang'an, pushed by fate to opposite sides. The winner is not at ease, and the loser is not at ease either.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"In the future, will you treat Song Wang well?"
He turned to look at me. "I will."
"Then that is enough."
He looked at me and suddenly smiled. "Qingyan, you are the first person to ask if I will treat him well. Others only ask if I will win."
"What happens after winning is more important than the winning itself."
He put down his wine cup. The moonlight shone on his face; his eyes were very bright.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
"Thank me for what?"
"For telling me that some battles can be won without fighting." He paused. "For asking me about what happens after winning."
I didn't speak. Moonlight streamed in through the window, falling between the two of us.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"Although the memorial was intercepted, the words have already spread. Princess Taiping's people are panicking now. The more they panic, the more mistakes they will make. Your Highness only needs to wait."
"Wait for what?"
"Wait for them to make mistakes," I said. "Wait for them to reveal their own flaws."
He looked at me and smiled. "Good. I will wait."
To Be Continued
The memorial was intercepted, but the wind direction in Chang'an City had already changed.
People in the court began to re-evaluate Li Longji—this Prince of Linzi, who usually kept a low profile, had actually made Song Wang willingly write a memorial of declination. Although it was intercepted, the content of that memorial had reached the ears of everyone who needed to know.
Princess Taiping smashed a set of teaware in her residence.
Li Longji was in the Eastern Palace—no, he hadn't moved into the Eastern Palace yet. He was still in the Prince of Linzi's residence, still in that study, still reading memorials, meeting advisors, and planning the next step.
And I was still in the dental clinic, grinding tooth powder, seeing patients, waiting for him to come for a check-up.
One evening, he sat in the dental clinic for a long time. He didn't check his teeth; he just sat there. The moon outside the window was very round, shining on his face, casting fine shadows from his eyelashes.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Those words you said that day—making Li Chengqi withdraw on his own—I have been thinking about them."
"What is Your Highness thinking about?"
"Thinking about why you would know these things." He looked at me. "You are not a court official, not a strategist, not part of any faction. You are just a dentist from Changzhou. Yet you see more clearly than anyone else."
I was silent for a moment.
"Your Highness, it is because I am an outsider."
"An outsider?"
"Yes. Not being in the game, I can see clearly. Your Highness is in the game, forced by Princess Taiping, watched by court officials, pressured by Li Chengqi; every step must be calculated, every step feared to be wrong. But I don't need to. I only need to watch."
He looked at me for a long time.
"Then have you seen clearly?"
"I have."
"Seen what?"
"I have seen that Your Highness will win."
He smiled. "You know again."
"I know," I said. "Because Your Highness listens to advice."
He shook his head, smiling. Under the moonlight, that smile was very beautiful. But I knew—the memorial was intercepted, the battle was not yet over. Princess Taiping would not give up, Li Chengqi had not officially withdrawn, and the wind direction in the court could change at any time.
This was only the beginning.
(End of Chapter 2)