In the Xie dynasty, the current Crown Prince, Wu Song, hurried to the alchemy chamber and knelt outside to request audience.
Mao Qi, with a kindly smile, told the prince: “His Majesty is in seclusion, devoted to cultivating the Dao. Before he shut himself away, he made it clear he would not deal with worldly matters. Whatever arises, Your Highness may discuss with the ministers.”
Wu Song spat full in Mao Qi’s face. “Filthy wretch! Do you take me as ignorant of Father’s edict? Were it not a matter of utmost gravity, would I dare disturb His Majesty’s cultivation? You go in and report! If Father blames you, I will bear it all!”
Mao Qi lowered his head, wiped his face with his sleeve, and bowed repeatedly. Lifting his Daoist whisk, he signaled the two young eunuchs disguised as Daoist acolytes. They hurried to open the Eight Trigrams Gate, and Mao Qi minced inside.
Wu Song waited outside for more than an hour, yet no one emerged. He had been about to take his meal when word came, so he had rushed here hungry; now his head was spinning from faintness, his temper fraying further. As he vented his anger on the two young eunuchs, Mao Qi finally came out, carrying an imperial summons: His Majesty would receive the prince.
Wu Song vented again, scolding Mao Qi for incompetence that had made him wait so long. He even kicked him twice on the backside. Mao Qi merely smiled, apologizing as if nothing were amiss.
When the Taikang Emperor saw Wu Song, his face darkened with displeasure. He had just been making some progress in his alchemical practice, only to be disturbed by such mundane affairs. Even his own son, he had little patience for.
“What matter is so urgent that the crown prince insists on seeing Zhen?” The Emperor stroked his yellowed beard.
Wu Song bowed low. “Your son greets Royal Father, wishing you heavenly peace. Indeed, there is a grave matter which must have Royal Father’s judgment, hence I dared intrude upon your cultivation.”
“And what grave matter is this?”
Wu Song lifted his head, cautious, and said: “Royal Father— Marquis Xing, Xing Muzheng—he has rebelled.”
At this, the Emperor’s heavy eyelids lifted. “Utter nonsense!”
Wu Song pressed on: “Your son would not dare deceive the throne. Reliable intelligence reports that Xing Muzheng has colluded with the traitors of the former dynasty and risen in rebellion in Wuzhou!”
“The traitors of the former dynasty?” The Emperor’s gaze sharpened. “You are saying Xing Muzheng is entangled with them?”
“Just so. Xing Muzheng conspired with them in Wuzhou, plotting rebellion, and was caught on the spot. Those traitors have already confessed and named him. Your son, knowing the matter is of utmost gravity, ordered him escorted back to Yongan for your judgment. But a few days ago, their accomplices ambushed the prison cart and rescued him. Now both Xing Muzheng and those rebels have vanished. I beseech Father to issue an edict to seize Xing Muzheng at once, and to recover control of Yunzhou quickly!”
Wu Song spoke urgently, even producing a prepared edict, waiting only for the imperial seal. But the Emperor did not seem hurried. Stroking his whiskers, he turned instead to Mao Qi.
“Has Xing Muzheng sent any secret reports?”
Mao Qi bowed. “Three sealed letters, Your Majesty. This servant has kept them.”
“Fetch them.”
Mao Qi withdrew. The Third Prince’s eyes flickered—why would Xing Muzheng send secret letters directly to the Emperor?
“Royal Father…” he began, but the Emperor raised a hand, silencing him.
Soon, Mao Qi returned, carrying a small locked sandalwood box. Before them both, he unlocked it, drew out three letters sealed with the Dingxi Marquis’s signet wax, and presented them with both hands. The Emperor opened them one by one, reading carefully. A pleased smile spread across his face.
Wu Song felt unease creep over him. He asked cautiously: “Royal Father… what has Xing Muzheng reported?”
The Taikang Emperor lifted his eyelids and gave his son a half-smile. “Nothing much. Only that in Wuzhou he deliberately feigned ties with the traitors of the former dynasty, so they would draw him in—and in so doing, help Zhen snare those rats.”
The words were mild, but in Wu Song’s ears they boomed like thunder. He had thought to grasp Xing Muzheng’s weakness, to execute him on the spot—yet it was all Xing Muzheng’s trap?
“Royal Father, but Xing Muzheng was in Yunzhou safe and sound—why would he meddle, inserting himself into hunting down traitors of the former…” Wu Song’s voice faltered. He recalled that the Emperor had said Xing Muzheng was acting on imperial orders to flush out the rebels, and that he had sent secret letters directly to the throne. Which meant—this had been conspired between the Emperor and Xing Muzheng all along!
“Why so quiet?” The Emperor looked at his son with displeasure, shaking his head.
Sweat broke out on Wu Song’s brow. He had indeed seen that shake of the head. “Royal Father…”
“Of course Xing Muzheng was enjoying himself in Yunzhou, thinking only of women. But he is still young; if all he does is idle pleasures, even back home, Zhen must give him some work to do.” The Emperor said, “Tell Me—did Xing Muzheng confess to rebellion?”
Want to show your support? Go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! Want to get early access to at least 10+ chapters in advance? Go to my Patreon to join now! :)
