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The night was deep, yet the mind was not still.
Liu Xie tossed and turned upon his bed, utterly unable to find sleep.
The Weiyang Palace of the Han Dynasty was, admittedly, quite vast. Yet the chamber where the emperor slept was, in truth, not large at all.
The bed itself was somewhat like a miniature room. Carved panels with intricate designs enclosed a rectangular space, leaving only one open area at the front for climbing onto the sleeping platform.
Liu Xie's gaze swept past the ever-burning lamp, which flickered not far from the head of his bed.
Some time ago, the oil in that lamp had been changed from rapeseed oil to fish oil. There was no more black smoke, nor any strange odor. The wick, too, had likely been replaced, hadn't it?
At the very least, he rarely heard the popping and crackling sound of a burning wick in the middle of the night anymore.
Liu Xie turned over, staring up at the canopy above the bed. Through the gauze curtains, he could vaguely make out a large pattern and a grid of square panels. On the left were eighty-one squares, and on the right, another eighty-one. Together, that made one hundred and sixty-two...
As for the large central pattern, besides a coiling dragon amidst the clouds at its very center, there were also five cranes and nine bats, along with some additional cloud motifs, branches, leaves, flowers, and fruit...
Liu Xie was intimately familiar with these things. So familiar, in fact, that he knew their exact positions even without looking.
In fact, he knew every single object in this room with absolute clarity.
The third pillar on the left side of the room, the one with the carved flood dragon at the very top—for some unknown reason, the tip of its right claw was broken off, missing a single talon...
Over on the right, there was a wooden carving, most likely affected by dampness. The lacquer surface had already developed a cluster of tiny bubbles. In a while longer, it would probably start to peel away...
In the past, whenever he found himself unable to sleep at night, Liu Xie would count these things over and over, examining them again and again, until he was so utterly exhausted that he could finally drift off.
However, for the past while—no, it should have been ever since the villain Dong Zhuo was executed—Liu Xie had basically fallen asleep as soon as the hour grew late, and he would slumber soundly until daybreak.
But tonight, for some inexplicable reason, Liu Xie again found himself unable to sleep...
Somewhat vexed, he turned over once more. This time, the movement was a little too vigorous. His foot kicked against the sideboard of the bed, producing a muffled "thump."
Perhaps startled by the sound, a small, dark head of hair quickly popped up not far away. A figure scrambled up from the floor, and in a few steps, was right before Liu Xie's bed. He immediately caught sight of Liu Xie's eyes, glistening and bright in the darkness, and could not help but blurt out, "Your Majesty, can't sleep again?"
Liu Xie grunted an affirmative, "Mm." He then decided to simply sit up, clutching the brocade quilt around him, and said, "Dong Huan, bring your bedding over here. Let us talk for a while..."
"At your command, Your Majesty." The young eunuch, Dong Huan, moved with gentle, quiet movements. In no time at all, he had carried over a cotton blanket and spread it out on the floor right at the foot of Liu Xie's bed.
"...In just two more days, it will be the Grand Sacrifice..." The moment Liu Xie thought about this event, he felt his heart pounding rapidly within his chest, unable to find calm.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Dong Huan replied, clutching his cotton blanket and leaning his back against the footboard of the imperial bed, wriggling slightly to get comfortable.
"This is not my first time attending the Grand Sacrifice, but... hmm..." Liu Xie did not quite know how to put his feelings into words. Finally, after a moment's hesitation, he managed, "...It's just... different somehow..."
Although Liu Xie's words seemed somewhat baffling, Dong Huan could understand perfectly well.
As a young eunuch who had grown up alongside Liu Xie since childhood, Dong Huan could be called a playmate in polite terms. In reality, he was Liu Xie's designated scapegoat. No matter what Liu Xie did wrong—whether it was running outside on a rainy day, or getting absorbed in catching bugs—the first person to receive punishment for violating the rules was always Dong Huan.
The courtyard guards who carried out the corporal punishment were very measured in their strikes. They would not hit any vital areas, nor would they leave any internal injuries. But they were certain to flog Dong Huan's buttocks until the skin split and the flesh tore, a gory and ghastly sight...
A beating staged entirely for Liu Xie to witness.
Fortunately, Liu Xie was extremely bright. For most transgressions, after being admonished just once, he would rarely repeat the mistake. As a result, Dong Huan had not been subjected to such punishment too many times.
The deep stillness of the night was the time these two spent alone together. Of course, once Liu Xie turned thirteen, he would be required to take an empress and imperial consorts. At that point, this small sleeping chamber would have other people joining them inside...
Dong Huan replied, "Yes, Your Majesty, this time is indeed different."
Liu Xie spoke with a trace of excitement: "Do you know, this time, it is to be changed to the Civil Dance!"
The Civil Dance and the Martial Dance were the two most important ceremonial music-and-dance performances for the Han imperial ancestral rites. In truth, the dancing troupe was not two separate groups but one and the same ensemble. The distinction between "Civil" and "Martial" was shown purely through the props held and the movements performed. The Civil Dance was performed holding pheasant plumes and yak-tail banners, while the Martial Dance was performed bearing shields and battle-axes.
Choosing between the Civil Dance and the Martial Dance was, for a sacrifice itself, not an issue. It was just that during the latter years of Emperor Ling's reign, the empire had been perpetually at war—first against the Qiang people in Xiliang, and later with the Yellow Turban Rebellion. For that reason, the Martial Dance, representing martial valor, had been continuously used. And later, after Dong Zhuo entered the capital, due to Dong Zhuo's personal preference, it had again always been the Martial Dance...
Dong Huan also wore a look of anticipation as he said, "Yes, Your Majesty, it truly feels like an age since we last saw the Civil Dance..."
The colorful, vibrant pheasant plumes and yak-tail banners, compared to shields and axes, were—at least in Dong Huan's opinion, from every possible angle—far more pleasing to the eye...
Liu Xie grunted in agreement and continued, "...And moreover, during the 'Music for the Raising of the Repast,' they will add the 'Manifest Virtue' dance suite..." Thinking of this, Liu Xie could not help but feel a surge of emotion. The "Manifest Virtue" dance suite had been composed to commemorate Emperor Wen. "He linked up the passes and bridges so that distant lands were not treated as foreign; he abolished the crime of slander, did away with corporal punishment, rewarded and honored the aged, and took in and cared for the orphaned and widowed, so as to nurture all living beings." Did this choice of music imply that he, Liu Xie, was expected to become like that great ancestral emperor, pacifying the chaos of war and restoring the awe-inspiring might of the Han?
Dong Huan answered with utter seriousness: "Your Majesty will surely be like His Majesty the Grand Ancestor, whose virtue was as thick as Heaven and Earth, and whose grace and blessings extended to the four seas."
At the mention of the Grand Ancestor, Emperor Wen, Liu Xie's smile also faded. He straightened his small face, and with an expression of solemn dignity, nodded. "Mm," he intoned. Then he added, "Tomorrow, I wish to go to the Imperial Ancestral Temple first... I have now been in Chang'an for quite some time, yet I have only visited a handful of occasions... Will our ancestors' spirits in Heaven think me an unfilial descendant..."
Strictly speaking, the Imperial Ancestral Temple in Chang'an and the one in Luoyang did not belong to the same system. The Chang'an temple took Liu Bang, the founding emperor, as its primary lineage, while the Luoyang temple was centered around Liu Xiu, who had restored the Han...
Although Liu Xie bore the surname Liu, in a manner of speaking, his bloodline traced more directly to Liu Xiu. His connection to the dynasty's founding emperor, Liu Bang, had, well... grown so diluted it was scarcely worth mentioning.
But now, the Luoyang temple had been reduced to flying ash, leaving only this temple in Chang'an. Although the spirit tablet of Emperor Guangwu, the dynasty's restorer, had been added among the others, still...
How to put it...
In any case, Liu Xie still felt a faint sense of something peculiar in his heart about it, and so he had rarely gone there.
But now, surely, he should go and inform the ancestors, shouldn't he?
The treacherous minister who had brought calamity upon the Han realm had been executed. From here on, with the assistance of Minister Wang, everything was surely going to get better!
Liu Xie clenched his small fists, a faint smile on his lips. He was full of hope and imagination, painting pictures of the future in his mind...
After a moment, Liu Xie suddenly recalled a certain matter and asked, "By the way, you've seen that General Fei. What do you think of him?"
"..."
After waiting for a long moment without any response from Dong Huan, Liu Xie could not help but crane his head to look. He saw that Dong Huan had been unable to stay awake any longer; his head had lolled to one side, resting against the foot of the bed. He had fallen fast asleep.
Liu Xie pursed his lips but did not call out to wake him. He shifted his body slightly, lay back down, and after a while, his own eyes closed as well. His breathing gradually became deep and slow, and he too fell asleep.
Situations like this had played out many times before, here within the Weiyang Palace, between the young master and his servant. It was just that this time, perhaps, something was a little different...
But who could truly tell?