Chapter 74

Since taking the throne, the Martial Emperor Yang Zao's single biggest receipt had been this autumn's land tax. But what truly kept Great Liang moving forward was the spoils of ten years of war.

There is no clean war in this world. Whatever policies the reigning sovereign put out now, those who had lived through the Hongshun years remembered one thing well. Their Emperor had robbed his way to the throne.

Before he was Emperor, he had been a hard bandit.

The Martial Emperor Yang Zao could sit so smoothly on the throne and win the old dynasty's ministers over. It went back to a bandit's first principles. In those days several rebel kings raised the banner of the righteous army. The pattern was usually the same. Someone else killed the men, wiped out the clan, and seized the goods. Then the Martial Emperor Yang Zao would find that man and rob it back off him. He would hand the wronged party enough to keep them from starving, and keep the rest for himself.

That was a hard bandit. A bandit who robbed only what other bandits had stolen.

His name was the cleanest of them, so everyone rallied to him.

It had been hard-won. A full two hundred and sixty thousand taels of fine silver. This was the largest tribute the Martial Emperor Yang Zao had received since taking the throne. And as a sovereign, he was by no means pleased.

He was, if anything, aggrieved, angry, and full of loathing. At last, feigning astonishment, he asked: "The old recluses of five hundred li, and a single year's tribute comes to as much as this?"

Meng Dingchen was startled for a moment and said nothing. But the Second Prince, Yang Zhen, said with a smile: "Father, this is three years' tribute, not one. And besides, the country around Qingfeng and Baiquan Mountain is a special region. The most merchants in all the realm gather there.

"Beyond the merchants, our Yanjing has also drawn the branch lodges of all the great sects. And not long ago there was the horror of Pang Tu slaughtering his way through the martial world. This silver is less a tribute to the recluse than a purse of thanks, you might say. After all, the Elm-Tree Mother kept the face of the whole Baiquan Mountain line."

Hearing his son, the Emperor lowered his head and thought for a while, then said with a smile: "True enough. Sometimes a man's face is worth more than his life. My son is clever... Mm, this Elm-Tree Mother is an interesting one. What made her hand this silver in? Is there truly someone in the martial world who cares nothing for fame and gain? I don't believe it! Fifth, is that not so?"

Meng Dingchen was taken aback, then bowed his head and answered: "Reporting to Your Majesty, there are. Not many."

The Martial Emperor raised a brow: "Oh? Not many. Since you say so, Fifth, you must know their names. Tell me today, then. Who are they?"

Meng Dingchen answered without lifting his head: "Mm, the late Xuanshan..."

The Martial Emperor waved a hand and laughed softly: "That one doesn't count! No need to bring up the North and South Nation-Protecting Temples. Uncle and nephew though you are, out of respect for that temple, there are things I'll say all the same. They tell me the whole realm is mine. That's pure nonsense. I've toiled a full year and haven't a tribute of two hundred thousand to show for it. And one slip of a woman lays hold of so much with ease.

"And you say who's no good? Heh, of all people, the monks of those two temples. Defrocked these several years, however many of them you've cut down, and Fifth here still has a Buddha in his heart? The Nation-Protecting Temple, why, even the abbots of its branch temples about the country are richer than I am. Every other martial sect had to weather the wars and the upheaval, but the Nation-Protecting Temple's holdings have stayed whole for eight hundred and seventy-two years. Money in hand, that's what lets a man care nothing for fame and gain. Fifth, we'll leave the monks out of it today. Name me someone else, someone I don't know."

Meng Dingchen's heart gave a twitch, and in the end he said: "...the Elm-Tree Mother."

The Emperor was just raising his tea. The cup came to his lips and stopped. After a long moment he set it down and burst out laughing, and still laughing, turned to Attendant She at his side, who had said nothing all this while. "I say, Qingling, what's had your soul wandering all day?"

Attendant She started, gathered back his wandering wits, and said with a touch of pride in his look: "What d'you think? A great matter! There's a bit of trouble at home, and my adoptive mother's asked me what to do."

The Emperor's cheek twitched. He made a tsk and said: "Trouble at home? Heh, set your home aside a moment. I'm asking you, this windfall out of Baiquan Mountain, how ought it to be handled?"

Reward, or punishment?

At the question Attendant She was blank. He looked at the room full of silver chests, then at the Emperor, then at the somewhat uneasy Meng Dingchen and the bright-eyed Second Prince Yang Zhen. At last, with his usual sour edge, he said: "That question's got no point to it! I'm a eunuch. Helping you keep a few Board of Revenue accounts is already overstepping, and you've asked just the right man!

"I never set foot outside my door, I hardly dare eat a chicken. How would I know the martial world's affairs? I don't deal with them! Baiquan Mountain, Yuegong Mountain, to me any of them who live up a hill and pay no tax are no good. The Board of Revenue's treasury is so bare it can't keep the poor mice fed!"

Sitting outside the hall copying his character sheets, Chen Dasheng let his brush stall at the words. His foster father was a walking treasury of martial-world lore. He was forever muttering to him in private about its filthy little secrets. How such-and-such an old recluse had built himself a scent cave up his mountain. How a famous man of honor was, behind the scenes, carrying on foully with his own sister-in-law. How one who wore the face of a righteous knight-errant, saving folk and braving danger everywhere, was in truth secretly in league with Meng Dingchen, quietly rooting out his rivals.

He not only knew it. He knew far more of it than Meng Dingchen did. Meng Dingchen believed the Nation-Protecting Temple's abbot Xuanshan had passed away in meditation. But his own foster father knew Xuanshan had taken poison.

The Emperor had been snubbed, and not lightly. After a long while he could only mutter, put out: "It's no more than that I disturbed your pondering over your home troubles, is it? You can't settle it yourself, so why take it out on me? Fine, fine, asking you is a waste of breath. You've crawled so far into the money hole. And I'm truly at a loose end... ahem, right, Fifth, have the silver hauled to my privy treasury..."

Unfortunately for him, before the Emperor had finished, Attendant She snubbed him again: "They carried it here only for you to have a look, and you'd really cart it off to your privy treasury? Believe me, tomorrow the heads of the Six Boards will come weeping poverty and threatening to hang themselves before you! Are the burnt official granaries of the Five Southern Commanderies to be rebuilt or not? Is the canal bed to be dredged or not? Yanjing is so foul the groundwater is undrinkable, is the sewer to be laid or not? You're a funny one. Silver that so many ministers have laid eyes on, and you'd move it to your privy treasury?"

"Pfft!" The Second Prince Yang Zhen couldn't hold back a laugh, and caught his father's folded memorial full in the face for it. The Emperor paced the hall twice with his hands behind his back, then waved a vexed hand: "Drag it off, drag it off, quick! And next time don't go hauling it in front of me to dazzle my eyes..."

He had the silver carried out. Now Meng Dingchen had no choice but to speak. The Elm-Tree Mother was of the martial world, and the silver had been offered up through his Jiusi Hall, so he owed the martial-world folk an account of it.

Even if the Emperor wouldn't give it, he had to ask on the Elm-Tree Mother's behalf. Otherwise, from this day, how would the Jiusi Hall ever hold its head up before others again?

Meng Dingchen cupped his hands to the Emperor: "Your Majesty, will you take only this one tribute, then?"

Chen Dasheng balled up the sheet of paper he'd spoiled and tucked it into his robe.

Meng Dingchen bowed his head and thought for a moment. Then, wearing a look of deep gratitude, he kowtowed his thanks for the imperial grace on the Elm-Tree Mother's behalf.

And so the small midnight court broke up.

Attendant She took his leave at once. As he reached the door, the Emperor asked, as if idly: "Qingling, what hard thing has the old lady run into?"

At that Attendant She turned back and answered, very earnestly: "Reporting to Your Majesty, the old lady wrote to complain. The fourth master's concubine, in the courtyard next door, is up to her old restlessness. Every day she goes gadding from door to door, and lately the unfilial creature struck up with the third daughter-in-law, Wen-shi, of Yang Shisheng, vice-magistrate of Qingfeng, in the Board of Rites lane. This Wen-shi is cruel by nature, and the children she has raised are no better. She has clawed the face of Feilian's little sister Xique to ruin..."

Several court ministers who had reached the hall door stopped in their tracks, and looked at Attendant She with astonishment all over their faces.

This was She Qingling? This was that man of red-blooded loyalty, the heir of a whole household of the loyal and the martyred. This was what he had just said? What was it about?

The Emperor's face was astonished too. After a long moment he asked, haltingly: "You've had your soul wandering all day, for this?"

Seeming a little displeased at the Emperor's tone, She Qingling made a bow and said: "Your Majesty! Xique is but four years old this year, and her whole life is ruined. How is this a small thing?"

That said, he flung his sleeve and left without ceremony. Chen Dasheng hurried forward to support him down the steps.

The Emperor watched his back, watched until he vanished into the night, and of a sudden he smiled. He said to the several ministers at the door: "Ahem, my lords, bear with him a little. It's no wonder Qingling takes it to heart. In the old days he hadn't even a home to set foot in. I've been on the throne all this while, and he still dares not go back to his old mansion. Wide as the realm is, the only roof that will hold Qingling is the one over Feilian's house. That family's old lady is a good sort, and Feilian is an honest child. So, mm, it's a fine thing that two whole households of the loyal and the martyred can come together and live out their days as one... When I'm gone one day, I can go with an easy heart. A good thing, a good thing! Off you go, now..."

The ministers took their leave, each with an odd look. Only the Second Prince Yang Zhen stood a long while outside Dongming Hall without a word.

He did not turn until Meng Dingchen came out and called to him. Then he turned his face with a smile and asked: "Father's assigned that silver to that place?"

Meng Dingchen smiled: "The Emperor says, since it came out of the martial world, let the Jiusi Hall keep it for its own use."

At that Yang Zhen began to smile. Young as he was, once pleased, he couldn't help it showing on his face.

Meng Dingchen coughed and said low: "Even if you'd guessed your father's mind, Zhen'er, you should never strike such a pose."

Yang Zhen started, his look going grave in a flash, and said to Meng Dingchen: "Uncle is right, only... Uncle? There's a question I've long had in my heart."

Meng Dingchen pointed off into the distance, and uncle and nephew walked slowly toward the palace gate. As they walked, Yang Zhen said: "Of the whole court of ministers, there's not another like him. Uncle, I can't stomach She Qingling. Do you know, having a man like that skulking about the palace, I don't like it. Not because he's arrogant and pays me no mind. Not that he does anything wrong. I just don't much like him."

Meng Dingchen smiled: "With a sour temper like his, nine men in ten will fear him, and the tenth will dislike him, as Your Highness does. But I'll give you a word of counsel. Arrogant though She Qingling is, he is straight and single-minded, and he has served the state besides. His one private wish is nothing but a certain Chen Feilian... Your Highness is young yet, and has much to learn in the making of a man. Today, tomorrow, the day after, toward this She Qingling you must play the junior to the full, and be dutiful to him."

They passed out the inner palace gate before Yang Zhen finally asked: "Why?"

Meng Dingchen thought a moment: "He holds a sovereign's after-name in his hand. Alive, he has the people's hearts too. And when he dies, there will be men to write his life and hand it down. In those books, a sovereign is no more than a thing born alongside him. Treat him well, and you are a fair tale in the histories. Slight him, and you are a benighted ruler in the people's stories, like that Benighted Emperor."

Yang Zhen looked at Meng Dingchen in astonishment: "No more than a eunuch."

Meng Dingchen stopped short, looked behind him, and only then said: "Your Highness misspoke."

Yang Zhen fell silent on the instant, and after a long moment nodded: "Yes."

Meng Dingchen walked on, and taught as he walked: "Zhen'er, remember, within this palace his power is greater than yours. Hereafter you must guard your tongue with the greatest care... And your father, he is an emperor who rose in revolt. Before your father revolted, the old dynasty kept and nourished your Yang house for eight generations at the least. Even your grandfather cannot deny that your house ate from another's bowl."

Yang Zhen, with a boy's hot spirit, said scornfully: "And what of it?"

Meng Dingchen recounted it coolly: "Of nothing. So long as he lives one day beside the throne, he stands as proof that the old dynasty was benighted and the people wretched. Without the seeding cause of the She house, a whole household of the loyal and martyred, the matter of the Fanxi Fish-Canal would blow over sooner or later. Men forget easily, and given years enough, all that would be said of your Yang house is that you ate the old dynasty's rice and rose against its Benighted Emperor.

"When later men speak of you with loathing, will you crawl out of your tomb to argue with them? So, whether this She Qingling matters or not, beyond his own abilities he is a layer of gilding on the sovereign's virtue.

"Go home tonight and read carefully the proclamations to the realm of the six rebel kings, and you will understand. She Qingling's arrogance comes of this: the lives of his whole household gave every rebel king a righteous, full-throated reason to rise."

Yang Zhen nodded, and led his uncle's horse forward with his own hand. Meng Dingchen dared not take it, and helped him mount instead. These days the Second Prince Yang Zhen went every day to the Qingque Nunnery outside Qingfeng, to kneel at the sutras with Dowager Jiang.

Once they were out of Yanjing, Meng Dingchen turned his horse's head. With Yang Zhen he looked back at Yanjing's east gate: "Zhen'er, an emperor is also called the Son of Heaven. That is why emperors down the ages have all styled themselves sons of Heaven. This Benighted Emperor was a man of great gifts, and his way of ruling was not all of it wrong. Look how many in the northern martial world still pine for the Benighted Emperor to this day, and you will know he was no bad emperor once. The old dynasty fell, but the long-gathered sicknesses of many reigns were all pressed down onto his head. The Fanxi Fish-Canal was only the seeding cause."

The Second Prince Yang Zhen was a long while silent, then said: "As I watch my father with She Qingling, it seems to me no pretense."

Meng Dingchen nodded: "Of course it's no pretense! His Majesty's fondness for She Qingling comes wholly from the heart. And She Qingling too is a man of surpassing gifts, with a hidden fineness beyond the common run. In all my life I have admired few men under heaven. But if there are any I hold in reverence, your father and She Qingling are both among them..."

Attendant She did not know Meng Dingchen was praising him. Had he known, he would have brushed it off with a face full of scorn.

Other men schooled their juniors. He was at the same lesson himself.

The way back to the little courtyard led through a long corridor. It was the very corridor down which Chen Dasheng had chased the Benighted Emperor and cut him down.

Attendant She seemed to have a particular feeling for this corridor. He liked to walk its empty stretches, and to teach his foster son something solid along the way.

The corridor was narrow, and its echo strong, which gave every word he spoke a force that seemed to go straight into the mind.

Attendant She sent the attendants off, then asked Chen Dasheng as they walked: "Did my son see anything today?"

Chen Dasheng was blank for a moment, then answered: "Mm? His Majesty was angry."

At that Attendant She laughed, and when he was done laughing said: "Just so. He was aggrieved to death. The land tax he took from Qingfeng this autumn wasn't half of what she gave the Elm-Tree Mother. His Majesty had thought he'd done very well, done nothing amiss in taxing lightly and nourishing the people, and never dreamed he still had none of the people's hearts."

Chen Dasheng nodded: "Just so. Even I feel it unfair. From last year to now, how many nights have you and His Majesty gone sleepless over the filling of the common folk's bellies."

Yet at that Attendant She gave a scornful laugh: "That's the human warmth in your Emperor's nature not yet worn off. Of course he's aggrieved. Only, it's a matter of a few more years of aggrievement..."

He stopped of a sudden and looked at Chen Dasheng: "I oughtn't to teach you the next words, but they will help you read a sovereign's joys and angers. Remember, my son, a sovereign's heart can still be fathomed. But to a sovereign, the people's heart is the coldest, the hardest to grasp, the most freezing heart under heaven. The two in this world who hate each other are the sovereign and the people. They live and go together, hating and resenting each other, and there will never come a day they are reconciled."

Chen Dasheng was dumbstruck. After a long while he said: "Isn't it said, feed the people full, and the people's heart is yours to use?"

But Attendant She said: "Did the Benighted Emperor never feed them full?"

Chen Dasheng nodded numbly. They had been fed full. Years enough had passed, and there had been good years among them. But what had that to do with the Benighted Emperor?

He walked on after Attendant She, and heard him say low: "To a new sovereign, they strive and toil, hoping the people will serve their turn. But let a man be sovereign long enough and he finds that the people, being vast in number, are fickle. So, a sovereign, I say, is a cat, and the people a tiger. Serve them the least bit ill, and the people will eat the sovereign up!

"Wait a few years, as I've told you, and you will see. Let one who has climbed high sit there long enough, and a cold streak grows in his nature. To them the people are never enough. They ask, and ask again, and again. The sovereign comes to resent them. And from that resentment, the people go looking for another to feed them..."

Attendant She stopped, and looked at his uncomprehending son: "Keep this to yourself. Only understand the sense of it, and sit quiet to one side and watch the sovereigns. They are an interesting lot, and think themselves fathomless mysteries, and love to practice all day at this strange kingly craft. But to my eye they are all of a single, similar kind.

"Naturally, how they change is their own affair. It's nothing to do with you or me. Tonight he asked me how to handle the Baiquan Mountain business. I ask you, why did I not answer his question? From root to bone I know the martial world's affairs a hundred times better than Meng Dingchen."

Chen Dasheng of course did not know, and shook his head.

Attendant She smiled, coughed, and looked at Chen Dasheng: "My son, however many books I read in this life, however long I may live, and however many reigns of sovereigns I may serve, are all unknown to me. But of my understanding of sovereigns I have only one line to give you, my son. You and your sons' sons must never forget it in all your lives."

Chen Dasheng set his two hands before him and bowed: "Yes!"

Attendant She looked back at the corridor: "The gentleman keeps his tool hidden about him, and waits for the moment to act. Do you understand, my son?"

Chen Dasheng shook his head. Attendant She stroked his head: "My son, clever men there are aplenty under heaven. That your father dares now to wield his tool freely, heh, is only because I have no tool left. Being maimed, I can win a sovereign's pardon, and every man's, and not be envied. So, whether at a sovereign's side or a great man's, your father is safe.

"But when my son acts, he may give his tool only six parts' play. More, and the one above you takes fright, grows uneasy, feels you are fathoming his mind. You have thought of everything for him and done it all for him, and that becomes your crime.

"In short, when a sovereign asks whether you know how a thing should be done, beyond giving full play to the very tool the sovereign prizes in you, so that no other man can take your place, you must never become the sovereign's second blade! Otherwise you are in danger. At that pass, if the sovereign doesn't do away with you, your own colleagues will never let you stand at the sovereign's side. Has my son got it by heart?"

Chen Dasheng's eyes brightened a little. He too looked toward the corridor: "I understand. Meng the Fifth meddles in too much!"

His foster father was the death of him. Every time he spoke, he had to go roundabout and make him guess.

Attendant She was satisfied on the instant, though he had to put on a stern face and scold: "Is 'Fifth' for you to call him? Impudence!"

Chen Dasheng made a small sound of assent, and only then went dawdling with his foster father toward the little courtyard. About the time they reached the gate, he remembered something and said to Attendant She, plainly: "Today I took two thousand taels of gold from your little store."

Attendant She didn't so much as break his stride, and only asked: "Enough?"

Chen Dasheng nodded: "Enough for this year. Next year I don't know."

And so, the next day, this father had someone lay eight thousand taels more of gold into the little store for his son.

To She Qingling, of all the tools in this world money was the lowest sort. His son had learned to get things done with money only past twenty, a late start already.

By the time Chen Dasheng left the palace the whole city was under curfew, though for a man like him there was no curfew. By the time he got back to his own guard post it was just gone nine at night.

The moment he came in, Guan Si'er nodded to him with a smile.

Chen Dasheng looked at him, then turned to look behind him, and asked: "You didn't disturb the other side?"

Their courtyard was shared with the Jinwu Rear Guard.

Guan Si'er shook his head: "Of course not. They're on full watch tonight, and I've sent off all the idlers on our side. I've checked everywhere too, and Fourth Brother and the others are up on the roof keeping watch. Rest easy, chief, there will be no one 'happening to pass by' to eavesdrop."

Chen Dasheng looked at the roof, then nodded and went into his room. Once he had changed out of his guard's clothes, he set Guan Si'er to hauling the gold out of his little store, tray by tray.

Two hundred taels to a tray, ten full trays, heaped a whole tabletop gold and gleaming. They were all men who had been through great life and great death. Young as Guan Si'er was, once he had hauled the gold he would not spare the tabletop a second glance.

He only pulled a chair over to sit by his saber-head and asked: "Chief, does this business really have to be done in such a long-winded way?"

At that Chen Dasheng nodded: "A thing that a single stroke of the blade could settle is a low sort of thing. Father often says, the hard things of the world must be done while they are easy. The great things of the world must be done while they are small..." Guan Si'er didn't follow, so he patted his head and asked: "How far have you got in your studies?"

Guan Si'er's face went woebegone on the instant: "To the right it opens on the Broad Interior, to the left it reaches Chengming Hall. I don't know what it means either. The teacher says learn it by heart first..."

The youngest little brother's face was all difficulty. Chen Dasheng laughed and said: "There's a stretch of learning ahead of you yet. It's only these last days I've begun to get some grasp of what a man is, and what human warmth is! Oh, the sense of that line just now is this. In this world the men who talk with their mouths of doing great things generally never do them. What comes at last to be a great matter is the one thing built up out of small, fine things. You're young yet. We're in no hurry. We'll do it one thing at a time."

The two brothers chatted on, and it was close on eleven when two men came at last to the courtyard.

The one leading was Tong Jintai, riding high on his luck, a horsewhip in his hand as he showed the way. Behind him came one muffled head to foot in a great cloak.

Once the two had gone into the room, Tong Jintai and Guan Si'er went to stand watch at the guard-post gate.

When the sound of the door closing came from behind him, Ping Shen slowly drew off his hood and looked straight ahead. One glance, and he saw a whole tabletop of gold, two thousand taels by his reckoning, all old-dynasty local-official ingots.

Ping Shen had been out trading ten years. Two thousand taels of gold was small money to him. He gave it one glance, reckoned its worth, then looked away toward the seat of honor.

In that seat sat a handsome young man just past twenty, clean-faced and sweet-featured, dressed in plain cloth.

Ping Shen's pupils shrank. At once he bowed and made his salute with a smile: "Your servant was guessing the whole way, who had the heaven-reaching power to send a man freely through Yanjing after curfew. So it's the little patriarch."

Chen Dasheng smiled, put away his book, and tossed it onto the table: "Manager Ping, is Yanjing a fine sight at this late hour?"

Ping Shen glanced up and saw the book. An almanac?

He couldn't fathom the little patriarch's mind, so he thought hard on what he had been asked. Old dynasty or new, it was the first time he had ever seen the capital close on eleven at night.

How to put it. After the shock and the wonder came a heart brimful of dread. A few days back Ping Shen had received a letter, and with the letter had come the special-trade tokens for every gambling house and wrestling arena in Yanjing for the coming year.

And these special-trade tokens were the new thing every pleasure-house and gambling-house manager, every man of trade, would be itching to get his hands on next year.

The token had a "Ping" written on its face and a "ten" stamped on its back. The gist was that Ping Shen might, on the strength of this token, pay the court the commercial tax for ten businesses.

And how large those businesses were, was of course for him to work.

The old dynasty had taxed the merchants nothing. But the merchants had no love for the old dynasty, for it had had too many overbearing magnates, and anyone at all could squeeze a merchant. Better the new dynasty, where on the strength of a token you paid the court your tax by the new law.

These few days he had kept wondering, who had given this token? He had worked every connection, gone to the Zheng house, gone before several of the palace consorts. But no one dared promise for certain to get him a special-trade token. Prise something out of She Qingling's hand?

Impossible!

For the sake of this token, tonight Ping Shen had meekly got into the carriage. The man had picked him up at the wrestling arena outside the city, and on the strength of a single waist token had brought him through Yanjing's three gates and right into the inner city.

All that way Ping Shen had lifted the carriage curtain to look out more than once. In his heart, past the awe, was dread, and more dread...

Ping Shen made his salute, his tone fawning and honey-sweet: "Yanjing at this late hour is an awesome sight indeed! But I wonder for what the little patriarch has summoned Shen here tonight? Rest easy, anything within my power, I'll do for you though it beggar my whole house."

Since She Qingling reformed the tax law and laid on the commercial tax, he had been the living patriarch of every merchant under heaven.

At that Chen Dasheng laughed, pointed at the gold on the table and said to Ping Shen: "To hear you talk, you'd think I meant to have you kill and burn. It's, well, no great matter either. I want you, quietly, to help us support a certain someone."

Ping Shen was slightly blank, and asked: "And whom would the patriarch subsidize? A word from you and it's done. Never mind this one heap, ten heaps, a hundred heaps, you've only to say and I'll have them! My house wants for everything. The one thing we have too much of is this stuff."