On the first day of the Lunar New Year, before dawn, Emperor Jinglong had already risen.
According to ancestral tradition, the emperor first paid respects at the ancestral temple, then rode in the golden carriage from Qianqing Gate, escorted by a grand procession of Embroidered Uniform Guard guards. The procession passed through Huagai Hall and Canopy before arriving at Fengtian Hall, where the emperor ascended the throne to receive New Year greetings from his subjects.
This grand court assembly was mandatory for all princes and officials.
Su Yan, who had not yet been promoted after returning to the capital and remained a seventh-rank censor, was not qualified to attend. He was more than happy to enjoy a rare morning of leisure and slept in on New Year’s Day.
Su Yan slept until the sun was high in the sky. He was awakened by Xiaobei knocking on the door outside and calling in a hushed voice, “My lord! My lord, wake up—something’s happened!”
Su Yan jolted awake, hurriedly dressed, opened the door, and asked, “What happened?”
“Guard Chu came from the palace. His Majesty wants to see you immediately. For the emperor to summon you on the morning of New Year’s Day—it must be serious. My lord, do you have any idea what this is about?” Su Xiaobei looked solemn.
Although Xiaojing was usually loud and not the brightest, he did once say something true: ‘Serving the emperor is like serving a tiger.’ When it came to those two figures in the palace who held the power of life and death, even he was constantly worried for Su Yan’s safety.
Su Yan patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Even if something’s happened, it won’t drag your lord down. You and Xiaojing get my official robes ready, and pack some food for the carriage ride… Wait! Also bring those two New Year gifts tied with yellow silk—put them on the carriage as well.”
As he descended into the courtyard, he ran into Jinghong Zhui. Jinghong Zhui said, “If my lord is heading out, please allow your subordinate to accompany you.”
Su Yan declined politely, “I’m going to the palace—it would be inconvenient to bring you. Just wait at home.”
Jinghong Zhui was not at ease. “Then I’ll wait outside the Meridian Gate. Once you exit the palace, you’ll see me right away.”
Su Yan knew how stubborn he was and agreed.
Jinghong Zhui then asked, “Since the emperor summoned you so suddenly, does my lord believe this is about official matters, or something personal?”
“Official matters, I suppose.” Su Yan figured that was more likely, but the emperor’s mind was hard to read. He decided not to be overconfident and to prepare for every scenario.
He thought about it and decided to bring everything he hadn’t yet returned since his return to the capital: the Imperial Sword, a progress report on the management of Shaanxi’s horse operations, a handbook on administrative structures compiled with the assistance of Inspector-General Wei, an impeachment memorial against County Prince Zhu Yougou of Pingliang (in case that man struck first), and even that little yellow letter from Yu Wang (if push came to shove, he was prepared to burn bridges). He packed them all, just in case.
Depending on what move the emperor made, he’d play the matching card. Perfect.
A carriage from the palace was already waiting at the gate of the Su residence. Su Yan stepped out and saw Chu Yuan standing nearby. After exchanging New Year’s greetings, Su Yan pulled him straight onto the carriage.
Su Yan asked, “At this time of day, His Majesty should have finished the Outer Court audience and be receiving well-wishes in the Inner Court. Why summon me so suddenly? Did something happen? Black Charcoal Head, you have to give me a heads-up.”
He dared to ask because, first, Chu Yuan had accompanied him through thick and thin in Shaanxi—they had a bond; and second, instead of sending a eunuch, the emperor had dispatched his personal guard, suggesting that this matter could be risky and he needed to prepare accordingly.
“To be honest, Lord Su, something did happen—but not in the palace. It’s the Ministry of Rites.”
The Ministry of Rites? It wasn’t tribute season, so the only foreign guests there were the Oirat envoys. Could it be—
“Something happened to those Oirat envoys waiting for the reply to the national letter?”
Chu Yuan nodded gravely. “They’re dead. In the dead of winter, in the middle of the night, all four of them stripped off their clothes and jumped into the koi pond at the Ministry of Rites. Froze to death.”
Su Yan, wrapped in his fox-fur cloak, imagined people plunging naked into icy water and shivered involuntarily. “That’s a bizarre way to die!”
“Exactly. And on New Year’s Eve, no less. The officials of the Ministry had all gone home for the holiday—only a few servants were on duty. Their bodies weren’t discovered until this morning. His Majesty received the report during the morning court in Fengtian Hall. I was on guard, and he immediately sent me to bring you in for consultation.”
Su Yan pondered this strange incident all the way to the South Study of the Inner Court.
He didn’t have to wait long in the front hall. Soon, the emperor arrived with the crown prince following behind. Su Yan quickly got up and knelt, offering a deep salute and New Year’s greeting: “Long life and good health to Your Majesty and His Highness. May our empire enjoy favorable weather and peace throughout the land.”
The emperor personally helped him up. “Come inside—we’ll talk there.”
Once inside the imperial study, they sat according to rank. After tea and snacks were served, all attendants withdrew—even Lan Xi, who usually served at the emperor’s side.
The emperor said to Su Yan, “You’ve heard about what happened at the Ministry of Rites, yes?”
Su Yan nodded.
“What’s your take on the death of the Oirat envoys?”
The familiar question, posed in a neutral tone without any hint of personal emotion—very characteristic of Emperor Jinglong.
There was a time when just hearing such a question would make Su Yan’s chest tighten, like he was sitting for the civil service exam. But now, he had grown accustomed to it—and even felt a bit of warmth toward the emperor—so he answered calmly.
He had already thought about this in the carriage. Now, he replied steadily: “Someone does not want our Great Ming to reconcile with the Oirats. They want to throw fuel on the fire.”
He did not elaborate further, and instead asked: “I recall Your Majesty once said that the reply to the national letter was meant to lull Shaman Heiduo and the forces behind him, while secretly sending envoys to the Oirats to contact Tughlugh and clear up the matter of Prince Kunle’s assassination. How is that plan going?”
The crown prince, Zhu Helin, had never heard of this before. He was about to ask but decided to stay quiet and listen closely.
The emperor replied, “The Grand Secretariat has already drafted the national letter. I planned to review it and then have the Secretariat of Ceremonies copy and seal it before handing it to the Oirat envoys. As for the secret envoy, I sent him out on the 25th of the lunar twelfth month. Based on the timeline, he’s still within the Great Wall. It’ll take another month at least to reach the Oirat lands.”
Su Yan said, “Then someone’s run out of patience. Not knowing what the national letter says, and fearing that the conflict might be resolved, they decided to go all the way and make sure the Oirat envoys die within our borders—die inside an official building of the Ministry of Rites.”
“It’s said that ‘in war, messengers must not be harmed.’ Yet we, the Great Ming, didn’t even spare a few envoys. How brutal, how war-hungry!—This is the public perception the murderer wants to create. Your Majesty, why do you think the killer used such a bizarre and absurd method to commit murder?”
Emperor Jinglong turned to the crown prince, signaling him to answer.
The crown prince had not been involved in earlier discussions and only knew from court meetings about the tensions with the Oirats. Now suddenly put on the spot by his Royal Father, he grew nervous and couldn’t help glancing at Su Yan out of the corner of his eye.
Su Yan gave the Crown Prince an encouraging smile.
He knew Zhu Helin was clever. Though a bit erratic in temperament, he possessed an innate ability to perceive the essence of things—an intuition and foresight that came from natural intelligence. What he lacked was experience and the confidence to stand on his own.
Zhu Helin understood the meaning behind Su Yan’s smile, and it did calm him down. After a moment of quick thought, he said, “Because this is the kind of death that’s impossible to explain away. If the envoys had died by blade or poison, we could still order a hunt for the assassin and give Oirat a proper explanation. But in this situation, what are we supposed to say? That ‘your envoys suddenly went mad, stripped off their clothes in the dead of winter and jumped into a pool to their deaths’? That is the truth, and yet from Oirat’s perspective, how absurd and arrogant it would sound! It would provoke outrage throughout their entire tribe—this is exactly what the murderer wants.”
The Emperor nodded, satisfied with the response.
Zhu Helin looked a bit pleased with himself but also puzzled. “The killer is so cunning, yet Royal Father doesn’t seem worried at all. Does that mean there’s already a plan in place?”
The Emperor lifted his cup and drank tea. “What good is panic? If even the Son of Heaven cannot keep his composure, how can the ministers and people beneath him remain calm? Remember this, Crown Prince—a ruler must not let his emotions show.”
Zhu Helin cupped his hands in acknowledgment, but as he bowed his head, he stuck his tongue out. When he noticed Su Yan watching, he flashed him a mischievous grin.
Su Yan quickly looked away and sat upright, fearing the Emperor would catch them exchanging looks.
The Emperor then said, “I’ve already ordered the Northern Surveillance Bureau and the Dali Temple to investigate the case jointly. Su Yan, would you be willing to return to your former position and serve again as the right shaoqing of the Dali Temple, to help uncover the truth and bring the mastermind to justice?”
Since the Emperor clearly wanted him on the case—and Su Yan wouldn’t be returning to Shaanxi until at least March, with plenty of time in between—it made sense to accept. The horse administration reforms weren’t so urgent, especially with infrastructure not being something that could be rushed. But Oirat’s envoy crisis was a matter of crucial diplomacy and public perception.
He bowed and said, “I will do my utmost, Your Majesty.”
The Crown Prince stepped forward and volunteered, “Royal Father, I wish to help as well. Let me oversee the investigation personally, so I can report to you immediately if anything happens.”
The Emperor thought for a moment, then nodded. He assigned a squad of elite guards from the Embroidered Uniform Guard to serve as the Crown Prince’s escort and strictly ordered that he must never act alone outside the palace.
The Crown Prince cheerfully accepted, then prepared to take his leave, grabbing Su Yan to go inspect the crime scene together.
The Emperor said, “Go prepare in the Eastern Palace first. I still have a few words to say to Official Su.”
The Crown Prince dragged his feet. “Then I’ll wait right outside the study, Royal Father. You take your time, and I’ll go with him afterward.”
The Emperor stared at him, his gaze as deep and imposing as a mountain, exuding authority without anger.
At first, the Crown Prince held his ground, meeting his Royal Father’s eyes. But he soon caved under the imperial pressure, deflated like a defeated rooster, and muttered to Su Yan, “I’ll wait for you at the Meridian Gate,” before slinking out.
Su Yan fought to suppress his laughter and lowered his head to sip tea.
He assumed the Emperor wanted to continue discussing the case, but to his surprise, the next words came calmly from above: “The hot springs at Plum Immortal Spring—how did you find them?”
A mouthful of tea instantly went down the wrong pipe. Su Yan choked violently.
He covered his face with one sleeve, coughing uncontrollably, while his other hand groped to put the cup back on the table—nearly spilling it.
His eyes were watering from the coughing fit as he screamed internally: I’m doomed! I’m dead! How does the Emperor know everything?!
The Emperor sat upright and unmoved, letting Su Yan cough until his soul nearly left his body. He looked disinterested, yet oddly patient, waiting for Su Yan to confess.
Su Yan’s mind spun. Maybe the Emperor only heard part of it—maybe from Chu Yuan’s report. He might just be suspicious and doesn’t know the full story or who was there. He’s just testing me to see if I’ll crack!
Yes. I must hold the line. Stay calm, don’t give anything away.
He forced himself to settle down and, still coughing slightly, began, “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I lost my composure.”
The Emperor replied coolly, “A nervous heart is easily startled. Understandable. But—why don’t you answer my question? How was the hot spring at Plum Immortal Spring?”
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