Capital City.
In the outer court of the Imperial City, south of Wenhua Hall, where the Crown Prince received his lessons, stood the Wenyuan Pavilion, where the Grand Secretariat ministers worked.
Vice Chancellor Jiao Yang left his own office and quietly entered the archives of the eastern pavilion. Before long, Grand Secretary Wang Qianhe joined him and shut the door.
“What is it that couldn’t be said in open court, that you had to sneak about like this?” Wang Qianhe asked.
Jiao Yang handed him the memorial. “A report from the Nanjing Ministry of Rites. Read it yourself.”
Wang Qianhe skimmed through it, his face draining of color. “Is this true? This is a matter of utmost gravity, we must report it to His Majesty at once!”
Jiao Yang took back the memorial and asked, “Do you really think so, Lord Wang?”
Wang Qianhe froze. “What do you mean by that, Lord Jiao…?”
Jiao Yang gave a thin smile. “I hear the Empress Dowager is at Baiyi Nunnery today for prayer. Care to pay her a visit with me?”
Wang Qianhe hesitated.
—
In the nunnery hall of the imperial temple, the Empress Dowager sat on a luohan couch. She opened the memorial that Jiao Yang had presented, glanced over a few lines, and her fingers, still turning the agate prayer beads, suddenly froze.
“What’s written here… is it true?” The Empress Dowager gripped the beads tightly, veins standing out on the back of her hand, her eyes flashing with shock and fury. “The Crown Prince actually has such audacity, he dared to desecrate the Imperial Mausoleum of the Founding Emperor?!”
Jiao Yang bowed low. “This memorial was submitted by Lu Shangshu of the Ministry of Rites in Nanjing. I too believe this is a grave matter and humbly request that someone be sent to Nanjing to investigate in detail.”
The Empress Dowager took a deep breath. Though her anger still burned, her reason slowly returned. She set the memorial down on the table with a sharp thud and gave a cold laugh. “Since it’s such a grave matter, why didn’t you report it directly to His Majesty? Why come to me, a woman long confined to the inner palace? Do you wish to confirm the accusations that the harem meddles in politics?”
A bead of sweat trickled down Jiao Yang’s palm. He answered respectfully, “His Majesty dotes upon the Crown Prince excessively. As a result, the Crown Prince’s studies are sloppy, his conduct unruly, everyone in and out of court knows this. I fear that if this matter is first reported to His Majesty, he may once again find ways to conceal the Crown Prince’s misconduct. Such indulgence would tarnish His Majesty’s enlightened reputation, undermine the laws of the court, and only further encourage the Crown Prince’s misdeeds. After much thought, I concluded that only the Empress Dowager can uphold justice and discern right from wrong in this matter.”
The Empress Dowager didn’t immediately reply, but the harshness in her brows eased slightly.
Jiao Yang cast her a covert glance, he knew he’d bet correctly. The Empress Dowager’s loathing of the Crown Prince had long reached its limit; she could no longer tolerate him sitting in the Eastern Palace. All she lacked was a suitable and sufficiently weighty pretext to act.
And now, this “White Deer Incident” on Mount Zhong was like a pillow offered to a dozing head, a perfect opportunity delivered right to her hands.
If the Empress Dowager succeeded, those who had brought her this “pillow” would naturally earn her trust and favor.
More importantly, just a few days prior, Grand Chancellor Li Chengfeng, his health failing, had once again tendered his resignation. Unsurprisingly, it had been rejected. Emperor Jinglong himself had written on the memorial: “The court cannot be without Grand Chancellor Li, and neither can I.”
In truth, high-ranking ministers resigning, being refused, and repeating the ritual was standard practice, a courtesy to the elder statesman and a show of imperial benevolence. Jiao Yang wasn’t particularly worried; after all, Li Chengfeng was half in the grave already. It was entirely possible the old man wouldn’t even live to finish this round of polite formalities.
Once that seat was vacant, Jiao Yang intended to seize it for himself.
Yet the emperor’s mind was unfathomable. A reserved man, His Majesty showed no special favor toward any of the four remaining cabinet ministers. Jiao Yang knew he was not among those favored, and he suspected that the other Vice Chancellor, Yang Ting, enjoyed greater imperial trust.
Then he thought further, Li Chengfeng and Yang Ting had always been close allies. Before retiring, would Li Chengfeng not use his influence to strongly recommend Yang Ting to the emperor? The emperor might make his own decision, but could such a recommendation truly have no effect?
If the younger Yang Ting became Grand Chancellor before him, Jiao Yang’s reputation would be ruined, and his hopes for the premiership would vanish forever.
The more he thought about it, the more he felt time slipping away. He had to act, find himself a powerful ally or patron.
And now, the White Deer Incident had fallen from the heavens. Jiao Yang resolved to seize this godsent opportunity.
The Empress Dowager let out a sharp laugh. “Why should I ‘uphold justice’? Hunting the sacred beast of the imperial tombs without permission, bringing divine retribution upon us, nearly flooding the royal mausoleum, such crimes! Even if the flood didn’t breach the outer wall, the fengshui of the dragon veins has already been damaged. Spread this before the court, and you think the emperor would still dare shield the Crown Prince publicly?”
Jiao Yang, quick-witted by nature (as one must be to reach the cabinet), immediately grasped her meaning. He cupped his hands and said, “To rectify order and restore right is the duty of a loyal subject. As for submitting remonstrations to the throne, I and my fellow upright ministers will not shrink from it.”
So, he was volunteering to be her voice in court, to lead the charge in impeaching the Crown Prince.
The Empress Dowager gave him a look that was half-smile, half-sneer. “And you’re not afraid the emperor will secretly bear a grudge against you?”
Jiao Yang said solemnly, “Where righteousness and law demand, your servant will not turn back.”
The Empress Dowager inclined her head slightly and lifted her teacup. “Then tell me, Jiao Gelao, what is it that you wish to ask for?”
“Your servant acts from conscience, there is nothing I seek.”
The Empress Dowager chuckled. “Those without desire are Bodhisattvas. Are you a Bodhisattva? No? Then speak.”
Jiao Yang was just about to answer when the Second Prince, Zhu Hezhao, suddenly came running in, stumbling and shouting, “Grandmother! Where’s Grandmother?”
The Empress Dowager immediately set down her cup, rising so quickly that tea splashed from the rim. She hurried forward, scooping the little boy into her arms and scolding sharply, “Who was watching Zhao’er? How could you let him run about alone, what if he fell and hurt himself?”
The nursemaids who had chased him in dropped to their knees, knocking their heads on the floor in apology.
The Empress Dowager waved them away, telling them to take the child out. But the Second Prince clung to her neck, saying, “Don’t want nurses, want Grandma. Miss Grandma.”
Her anger melted into laughter. “All right, all right. Grandmother will talk to this man for just a bit, then come play with Zhao’er.”
“Who’s this man?” Zhu Hezhao tilted his head and looked at Jiao Yang.
A sudden spark flashed in Jiao Yang’s mind. He immediately knelt upright before the Empress Dowager and declared, “This humble servant dares to request the position of tutor to the Second Prince!”
“Oh?” The Empress Dowager, holding the child, looked down at him with a calm but probing gaze. “Do you know that his mother, Lady Wei, violated palace rules and is still confined to the Cold Palace of Yongning? He’s but a two-year-old child, how could he possibly deserve a learned master like you?”
Jiao Yang said firmly, “His Highness the Second Prince is gifted with natural intelligence and limitless potential. The moment I saw him, I was deeply impressed. I believe fate has destined us as teacher and pupil. I beg the Empress Dowager to grant this request.”
The Empress Dowager turned to Zhu Hezhao and teased him, “Does Zhao’er like this man to be your teacher? Hmm? Do you like him?”
Children often repeat the last words they hear from adults. Zhu Hezhao echoed in his soft, milky voice, “Like.”
“Since Zhao’er likes him, then Jiao Gelao shall be the Second Prince’s tutor,” the Empress Dowager said meaningfully. “The Crown Prince has three tutors, while the Second Prince only has one, that seems rather too few.”
Jiao Yang bowed. “What does Your Majesty think of Lord Wang Qianhe?”
“The man’s character and scholarship I trust,” she said. “But he’s a timid one.”
Jiao Yang smiled. “Timid men have their uses too.”
The Empress Dowager handed Zhu Hezhao over to the nursemaids, then personally helped Jiao Yang to his feet. “Then I shall rely on you two Grand Secretaries.”
Leaving the Baiyi Nunnery, Jiao Yang climbed into his own carriage, only to find Wang Qianhe already sitting inside, having appeared from who-knows-where. Jiao Yang sneered, “Too timid to step onto the battlefield, yet you still want to share in the spoils.”
Wang Qianhe looked ashamed. “I’m not skilled with words; I feared I might bungle your plan. Besides, if you alone propose the strategy, won’t the Empress Dowager feel all the more grateful to you?”
Jiao Yang laughed derisively. “Enough. You put on that modest act, but you know perfectly well I’d never abandon you to bear the weight alone.”
Wang Qianhe immediately grasped his elbow and made as if to kneel. “Your Excellency’s grace to me is great, I will never betray you.”
“Ah, come now, we’re both cabinet ministers and old friends; there’s no need for such ceremony.” Jiao Yang hurriedly helped him up. “From this day forward, with storm clouds overhead, we must stand together as one, no second thoughts, no wavering.”
Wang Qianhe raised a hand and swore, “Before Heaven, Earth, spirits, ancestors, and the late emperor’s soul, this head of mine belongs to you, my lord!”
—
The next morning’s imperial court session marked the opening act of what later generations would call one of the Three Great Cases of the Jinglong Reign: the “White Deer Case of Mount Zhongshan.”
A clerk from the Ministry of Rites in the capital presented the report aloud, and the memorial from the Nanjing Ministry of Rites was also displayed before Emperor Jinglong. The court erupted in an uproar, like a stone thrown into a lake, waves rippling a thousandfold.
Officials from various ministries condemned the Crown Prince, who was then stationed in Nanjing: he had presided over the imperial rites in place of the emperor, yet greedily hunted a sacred beast and defiled the imperial tombs, causing divine retribution, floods that nearly damaged the dragon veins of the realm. Such arrogance and moral depravity, they said, was shocking and intolerable; they implored His Majesty to punish him according to law.
But the faction loyal to Grand Tutor Yang Ting rose in defense, arguing that the truth was unverified. A single memorial from one minister of Nanjing’s Ministry of Rites, they said, was insufficient evidence to determine guilt or innocence.
Within the next few days, more reports trickled in from Nanjing:
The Ministry of Works said that after a landslide on the northern peak of Mount Zhong, streams and waterfalls had destroyed many of the trees near the imperial tombs; manpower was needed to clear debris and replant. Lacking enough laborers, they requested troops from the garrisons.
The Ministry of War said that after the mudslide, the mountain might be unstable. The Ministry of Works had asked for military assistance, and the Crown Prince had approved it on the spot; they had therefore acted first and reported later. But they lacked funds and requested the Ministry of Revenue to allocate silver.
The Ministry of Revenue replied that they had no money either, the summer taxes had already been sent to the treasury, and the autumn taxes had not yet been collected. Perhaps the Capital Ministry of Revenue could advance an emergency sum?
Most absurd of all was a memorial from the Nanjing palace eunuch, Supervisor Yan Yiyi: on the day of the sacrificial ceremony, six attendants from the Xiaoling Shrine under his charge had mysteriously vanished, he suspected they’d been carried off into the heavens by the sacred white deer the Crown Prince had discovered.
—Carried into the heavens, for heaven’s sake!
The entire memorial was like a bucket of dog’s blood poured over the heads of the assembled courtiers. Everyone froze, dumbfounded, with the same thought flashing through their minds: Just what in the world had the Crown Prince been doing in Nanjing?
“This matter concerns the imperial mausoleum and the dragon veins,” Emperor Jinglong said gravely from the throne. “It must be thoroughly investigated. I will send censors from the Censorate, agents of the Embroidered Guard, and palace eunuchs to Nanjing to conduct a full inquiry.”
—
“Investigate what?” the Empress Dowager exclaimed, slamming the table in the Baiyi Nunnery. “Isn’t the truth plain as day? The Crown Prince did go to Mount Zhong to hunt the deer. The northern peak was devastated by a mudslide. The imperial tombs were nearly affected. The facts are clear, what’s left to investigate?”
Jiao Yang said, “I only fear that with these back-and-forths, and the time spent on the inquiry, half a year or more will pass. Even the greatest scandal fades with time. If we wait until then to act, our momentum will be lost.”
The Empress Dowager nodded. “I thought the same, strike while the iron is hot.”
Jiao Yang pondered, then said, “The remonstrations in court must not cease! Though His Majesty may wish to shield the Crown Prince, if ministers submit petitions of censure day after day, pleading, remonstrating, even ready to die for righteousness, then even the Son of Heaven cannot ignore the voice of reason and loyalty.”
“Die in remonstrance? Isn’t that going too far?” the Empress Dowager frowned. “After the business of raising the late emperor’s temple title, His Majesty grew quite averse to ministers threatening him with death. Could this not backfire?”
Jiao Yang replied, “Of course, not immediately. The situation must escalate step by step. First, submit memorials impeaching the Crown Prince and begging His Majesty to punish him. After two or three months of constant petitions, His Majesty, harassed beyond endurance, will have to make a statement.”
Wang Qianhe added at the right moment, “Back when the late emperor’s temple title was being debated, His Majesty prevailed only because the Empress Dowager lent him full support. Now, if he faces the court alone, can he still win as he did then?”
The Empress Dowager’s eyes flickered. Then she smiled slowly. “You’re right. I’ll show the emperor what the court looks like without me behind him.”
—
“The Crown Prince violates ancestral virtue and disregards the holy teachings. For fifteen years His Majesty has indulged him, appointing virtuous teachers and upright officials to guide him, yet he refuses to repent, and his wickedness grows unchecked…”
“The fire in Kunning Palace, he blamed his servants, harbored cruelty, and committed murder. Now he desecrates the imperial mausoleum during sacred rites, his brutality knows no bounds…”
“This… this wording is too harsh. Your servant would rather not read further.”
Lan Xi, holding the memorial, looked toward Emperor Jinglong with both pity and unease.
“Continue reading,” the emperor said evenly.
“Yes, Your Majesty… ‘Even the tyrants Jie and Zhou cannot compare to his evil; the bamboo slips cannot contain all his crimes…’ No, truly, this is excessive! It’s clearly written to shock, exaggerate, and flaunt moral integrity for fame as a “loyal remonstrator.” Your Majesty should not let such ravings weigh upon your heart…”
On the imperial desk, the stack of impeachment memorials rose nearly two feet high, dozens of thick volumes, some from censors, some from ministry officials, and even a few from Nanjing.
It took Lan Xi more than an hour to finish reading them all, leaving his throat dry and parched.
The emperor poured him a pot of tea and asked, “Is that all?”
Lan Xi bowed, took a sip, and smiled wryly. “All done. If I read another word, smoke will rise from my throat. I beg Your Majesty’s mercy, let someone else with a better voice take over.”
The emperor said, “Today’s are done. Tomorrow’s will come.”
Lan Xi hesitated, then finally said softly, “The ministers’ tone is fierce, almost threatening, bordering on disrespect.”
Emperor Jinglong leaned back against his chair and rubbed his temples. Seeing this, Lan Xi quickly set down the teacup and went to knead the pressure points on his head.
“Don’t be fooled by how fierce those ministers seem. When it comes down to it, there are only a dozen or twenty of them. Let them make a fuss, all their memorials will be kept and not issued.”
“These ministers show no respect or obedience. Should Your Majesty not punish them?”
The emperor turned his face slightly and cast a glance at the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonies beside him.
“If an emperor cannot even tolerate his remonstrating ministers, then he is not far from becoming a foolish ruler.”
Lan Xi was startled and quickly bowed. “This servant meant no provocation, ”
“I know. Continue pressing.” The emperor cut him off, closing his eyes again. “Let them say what they will; I will do as I please. No punishment, no reward, no statement. Let them interpret it however they wish.”
“But… in Nanjing, the tomb-ritual ceremony has been over for more than half a month. The year’s end is approaching, will Your Majesty summon the Crown Prince back to the capital for the New Year?” Lan Xi asked.
The emperor was silent for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Let him stay there.”
Not summoning the Crown Prince back, and not punishing the impeaching officials, what was His Majesty’s intention? The more Lan Xi thought about it, the more lost he felt, as though drifting in fog. Once, he had prided himself on being able to read the emperor’s will, but now his mind was utterly blank.
Then the emperor suddenly asked, “Where is Shen Qi?”
Lan Xi froze, then replied, “Still secretly investigating in Henan. A few days ago, a secret report arrived, he said that among the rebel army of that Madman Liao, there is a scholar named Shi Sui, who plays tricks of gods and ghosts, spreading heresies and winning the madman’s favor. He’s now regarded as a military adviser. The banner ‘Acting on Heaven’s Behalf, Reopening Chaos’ was raised at his instigation. Shen Tongzhi suspects he’s a member of the Void Sect.”
The emperor instructed, “Have him continue investigating. See if he can follow the trail and capture the Void Sect leader, Mister He.”
Lan Xi answered and pressed his fingers a little harder.
The tension in the emperor’s brow eased somewhat. He rested with eyes closed, and just as he seemed to drift into a doze, he asked again, “And Yuan Bin?”
Lan Xi blinked several times before recalling. “Your Majesty forgets, Governor Yuan is over seventy. He’s long retired and living out his days in Nanjing.”
The emperor murmured, “Send him a secret letter in my hand.”
—
Henan, Kaifeng Prefecture, Yancheng.
In a private home, Shen Qi, dressed in plain clothes, sat beneath the flicker of an oil lamp, burning each line of a secret report in a charcoal brazier after reading.
Gao Shuo watched the cold sharpness of his features, the glint of killing intent flashing in his eyes, and asked uneasily, “Something happened in the capital?”
Shen Qi said, “In Nanjing. The Crown Prince is in trouble.”
Gao Shuo exhaled in relief. “Ah, the Crown Prince… that’s not too bad then. He’s been causing trouble since he was young, and His Majesty always shields him.”
“Times have changed.” Shen Qi stepped outside into the courtyard. Frost glazed the top of the wall; his gaze drifted eastward toward the night sky. “Qinghe is also in Nanjing. The Eastern Palace has always been the eye of the storm. Now that the whirlpool begins to rage again, I fear he’ll be dragged into it against his will.”
At that, Gao Shuo’s face grew serious. “Then what should we do? Should I send someone to Nanjing to warn Lord Su, or perhaps to protect him?”
Shen Qi clenched his jaw. “What I fear even more is that he’ll leap into it of his own accord.”
Gao Shuo scratched the back of his head. “Then I’m not so worried. Somehow, I always feel Lord Su will have everything under control, and the ones who fall into the pit in the end are his enemies. It was that way in Shaanxi, in the capital, and I’d wager it’ll be the same in Nanjing.”
Shen Qi said quietly, “How could I not trust him? It’s just…”
“Affection clouds judgment,” Gao Shuo cut in, giving his superior a teasing look. “Since you can’t put it down, my lord, why not finish the task here quickly and return to report?”
Shen Qi slanted him a look. “You just want to see that mistress you keep in the capital, don’t you?”
“What mistress? Don’t tarnish her reputation, that’s my tenant, tenant,” Gao Shuo emphasized, grinning. “I just want to eat her braised fish. Right now, I’m craving it so bad it hurts.”
Shen Qi too longed for his wife, longed for him as if his heart were being torn apart.
But the secret order he’d just received was written in stark black and white: he was to continue investigating the Void Sect’s strategist, Shi Sui, embedded within Madman Liao’s rebel army, and to trace the line back to the sect leader, Mister He.
In that instant, a dark thought and a burning rage surged within him, the desire to destroy everything that stood between him and Su Yan.
Rebels or cults, imperial power or divine mandate, duty, righteousness, this meaningless world of common lives,
He wanted to tear it all to pieces, burn it all to ash.
He stared toward the east, where the night sky was heavy and black. The morning star of dawn had yet to rise, perhaps it never would.
After standing silently for a long time, he exhaled a long breath and said to Gao Shuo, “I need to leave for a while. Keep it secret, no one must know.”
“How long is ‘a while’?” Gao Shuo asked.
“A night, or two or three days. Hard to say.”
“No one includes our own men?”
“Includes everyone.”
Gao Shuo nodded. “All right. Go, then.”
“You won’t ask where?”
“I won’t.”
Shen Qi turned to look at him, all unspoken understanding between them. He patted Gao Shuo’s shoulder, then went back inside.
From a hidden compartment under the floorboard, he retrieved half of a mechanical cylinder and tucked it into his robe. Then, with a light movement, he leapt out the window.
In Yancheng’s market district stood a wonton stall that rarely saw customers. When Shen Qi arrived, the young stall owner was asleep on the counter, snoring softly.
Shen Qi tapped the tabletop with his knuckles. “A bowl of pork wontons, no filling. Add a spoon of scallions and three drops of vinegar.”
The owner woke, rubbed his eyes, and grinned foolishly. “This way, honored guest, there’s a private seat in the back.”
There was no “private seat” in the back, only a dilapidated shed.
Shen Qi followed him inside. The owner dug beneath a pile of firewood and pulled out half of a metal cylinder. Shen Qi took out his own half, fitting the two ends together seamlessly, the patterns locking in perfect alignment.
Inside the cylinder, there came a faint click-click sound, and a moment later, as if a small metal bead rolled within, it traveled from the half in Shen Qi’s hand into the half held by the stall owner.
The stall owner tucked both the cylinder and the newly obtained intelligence into his robe, but as he lowered his head, he realized a sharp blade pressed against his neck, the cold steel biting into his skin, making his hands and feet go numb.
Shen Qi said, “I’ve grown tired of dealing with you lackeys.”
The owner forced a smile. “I am not a lackey. I am merely the gatekeeper.”
“Then have the person behind the gate come out. Feng Qu’e was once Xin Wang’s trusted aide, Mister He is the Void Sect leader, I don’t believe the people they contact are at your level. I want to ask the one behind the gate: do you look down on me? If you do, then we settle this once and for all.”
The owner corrected again, “I am not a lackey. I am the gatekeeper.”
Shen Qi tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not a gatekeeper. You’re dead.”
The owner recoiled in horror but was too slow. The blade sliced across his neck, severing his windpipe, blood spraying.
Shen Qi wiped the blade clean on the man’s coat, sheathed it, gathered both halves of the cylinder, and walked out of the shed into the dark street. Moonlight stretched his solitary shadow long across the ground.
Winter winds whipped through the bare branches, moaning and crying. A voice sighed behind him, “Lord Shen… you truly have a killer’s instinct.”
Shen Qi did not turn, pressing a finger to the hilt of his sword. “You wish to play this game of ‘you in the dark, I in the light’ as well?”
The voice paused briefly. “The person behind the gate wants to see you, but you must bring a proper tribute.”
“What kind of tribute?”
“…The deposed Crown Prince.”
