Chapter 95

He'd been on the throne nearly two years now, and had finally scraped together enough loose silver to mend a few of the old dynasty's great halls. He'd just moved into Jiuhua Hall, his seat not yet steady on the nine-dragon throne, when word came that the Shuntian Prefect had arrived. Then men from the Censorate came. Then the Board of Punishments... And then Tan Shouyi's plea for rescue, sent five hundred li by express relay from the road he'd already left the capital on...

Was this throne of his being held for the old Tan house? Why was it always their business?

The word had come only last night. Tan Shiyuan deserved ten thousand deaths! But whatever had led to it, Qing Buyi had drawn a sword and wounded a man in a busy Yanjing market. That broke the court's law.

What was he to do? Trouble after trouble with the Tan had worn down whatever patience he had left, and now the very name sickened him.

It was a hard case. One was Tan Shize's own elder brother. The other was the woman who would have been Tan Shize's widow. The Emperor was vexed at heart and half wished he could turn cold and heartless and just let the wretches go their own way.

But that wouldn't do. The civil and military officials needed an answer. The Yanjing folk needed an answer. And the whole realm had its eye on this wounding in Yanjing.

Last year Qing Buyi had been a mad nun, and could be quietly let go. Now she was perfectly clear-headed. So who should be sent to arrest her?

Guilty as Tan Shiyuan was, someone still had to bring charges against Qing Buyi. Given that woman's pride, Yang Zao knew he'd have to swallow this loss himself.

Thinking of the wrongs Tan Shiyuan had lately suffered eased his heart a little. But the woman had broken the law and had to be arrested.

So Yang Zao sighed deeply. He turned to look at the plaque above Jiuhua Hall and thought that perhaps this place, where the old dynasty's emperor had once ruled, was simply unlucky.

The civil officials laid their charges and considered their duty done. But when the Emperor's eye moved from Jiusi Hall to the Board of War, the ministers there all looked awkward. The plain truth was, they couldn't beat her. She'd overturned the palace back when she was mad. Now she was in her right mind.

Tan Shouyi's letters kept coming, one after another, express relay by the hundred li, begging the Emperor to save him. But who would go? Qing Buyi had plainly thrown her life away. That she cared nothing for her own life was no great matter. But behind her stood Qin She.

Qin She and Yuegong Mountain were locked in a fight that could ruin them both, and the whole court wanted to avoid adding to Qin She's troubles, win or lose. Either way, that served the court's interest.

The Emperor drew his eyes back at last. He went into Jiuhua Hall, full of care, sat down on his new dragon throne, and asked with a wry smile: "My lords, has any of you a good plan?"

Chen Dasheng knew nothing of the Emperor's trouble. Just now he was in the little garden of Yongyan Hall, where the princes studied, listening to Six-Immortal tell tales of the immortals.

The Sixth Prince, nicknamed Six-Immortal, was an odd child, and the palace had no use for odd children, so he grew up lonely and no one would play with him. The Emperor had at last assigned him a few study-companions, but he couldn't keep them. They each found some excuse and left.

What he said, others couldn't follow. What others said, he couldn't follow either. So every day he wandered the palace alone and forlorn. In all that wandering, he made one good friend.

Chen Dasheng often sat in long thought at the south gate. He'd let Six-Immortal chatter immortal-tales at him a whole morning and never once walk off the way others did. He listened quietly and never thought it tiresome.

This world, this heaven and earth, was too vast. Nothing his foster-father taught him, and nothing the garrison teacher taught him, was half so fine to hear as the Sixth Prince's stories.

Since the chief loved to listen, the other old sabers would gather round in their off hours to listen too. After one chance meeting past the New Year, Six-Immortal found his footing and began to preach in earnest, converting the old sabers to talk with him of the ancients and the immortals.

Now and then, when he had the leisure, he'd hold a little immortal-meeting outside Yongyan Hall, setting out a small feast or tea party in some fine spot. His favorite mother-consort would send him no end of good things to treat Brother Feilian and the rest.

Today Chen Dasheng was at leisure. He took the Sixth Prince's invitation card and went with his brothers to the tea party, ate the good things, and listened to the little immortal tell of a set of immortal desk-treasures he'd acquired.

The Sixth Prince first showed them a set of sea-immortal ink-cakes, then two famed inkstones with immortals on them, and last a great gilt-lacquer brush-pot of Magu Offering Birthday Wishes, which two little eunuchs carried in a grave circuit round the little pavilion.

The thing was heavy indeed, and Six-Immortal couldn't lift it himself.

When all had seen it well, the Sixth Prince coughed and, holding his fair, plump face straight, said: "Drink tea, drink tea."

So they all drank a few mouthfuls of tea, and swallowed a few sweets.

Over the eating and drinking Tong Jintai asked: "Sixth Lord, this big brush-pot's worth a good sum, eh? Terribly heavy."

The Sixth Prince said frankly: "No idea. An officer of my fief sent it."

With that he stood and walked over to Chen Dasheng and the rest. He gave his fellow immortal Chen Dasheng a reserved nod, then pointed at his immortal brush-pot. "Brother Feilian, this is Magu Offering Birthday Wishes."

The country lot all nodded together.

Six-Immortal put his hands behind him, pleased: "Ahem, mm-mm. Now this Magu, also called the Longevity Immortal Lady, is said to have been born most beautiful and kindly of heart, only her father Ma Qiu was no good thing..."

While Six-Immortal rattled on, he didn't notice that up on the second-floor rail of a little tower in the Yongyan garden, a group of noble sons lay watching.

They watched the fun a while, then turned to a youth behind them, dressed in green with dragon-shapes worked on both shoulders, a fine-looking young man with a steady bearing. "Fifth Lord," one said, "the Sixth Lord's got those brutes eating and drinking in the garden again, and our Yongyan Hall is supposed to be a place for study!"

The Fifth Prince was reciting low from one volume of the Four Books. The teaching of the princes in the palace had begun only last year, and the literary officials, the secondary tutors, the proofreaders and attendant-rectifiers were not yet fully chosen, nor had any famed great scholar come into the palace to lecture, but the old Shaoshang teachers had come along too and taught on within.

The princes were quick by nature. But for Six-Immortal, the rest read the Four Books ten times a day and the Five Classics ten times more.

Our Six-Immortal read the Tales of the Immortals times past counting, or else sat in meditation murmuring the Heart Sutra.

It wasn't that you could open your own household when you pleased, or go to your fief as you liked. They were the Emperor's sons, after all.

The Fifth Prince Yang Ying heard his study-companion's stir of envy and mischief. He knit his brows slightly and turned his head aside.

As a prince himself, he'd have been glad to see the sixth brother stay out of the competition entirely. Many of those immortal trinkets in the sixth brother's hands, he'd slipped him himself.

Only these companions of his, whichever house they came from, ranked a notch below the Second Brother's own. They had no skill of their own, and still stirred up trouble now and then, leaving him poorly placed on every side.

His own mother-consort was Consort Shun. Hear the name and you knew what the Emperor meant by it: that she be soft and uncontending. But his heart balked at that. Forget military campaigns. In his studies alone he was the best of all the brothers, and they were all concubine-born, equal in station by birth. So why shouldn't he strive a little?

Another fool pointed outside and complained to him: "Fifth Lord? You'll truly do nothing?"

Do something? Who was that sitting down there? Attendant She's foster-son. And yet this pack of fools dared lie on the rail talking wild, without any check on themselves. Would they not let him have a moment's peace?

Yang Ying, sick at heart, changed his book and raised his voice to recite. The companions saw he was displeased, came in from the rail, sat at their desks, took up their books, and each began to recite.

It was a hard-won look of real study, and Yang Ying's heart had just begun to ease when a cry of alarm came from the courtyard.

They sprang up together and ran to the rail to look out, and saw those few brutes running off with tight, anxious faces, and the Sixth Prince trotting after and calling: "Brother Feilian, don't be afraid! Today's a yellow-way Green-Dragon day, a horse-day clashing rat, the fetus-god due east and the lucky gods in the four quarters. Believe me, it's truly a good day with nothing forbidden at all!"

Chen Dasheng called back over his shoulder as he ran: "Many thanks, Sixth Lord, it's not my wife bearing a child, it's Jintai's wife lying down..."

Lying down was Chen Dasheng's home word. Bearing a child they didn't call bearing, they called lying down.

The Sixth Prince was fat, and after chasing a while could run no more. He stopped, panting hard, the sweat rolling down.

"Sixth Brother."

Yang Qian turned and saw it was his fifth brother, and asked between breaths: "Fifth Brother, you, you're not studying today?"

The Fifth Prince came up to him smiling. He saw him sweating, took a kerchief from his sleeve, and wiped his brow. "You can't study all day," he said. "When is a book ever read to the end? Look at you sweating. Such a little run and you're panting like this."

Six-Immortal, all innocence, turned up his face and spread his hands, heh-heh-heh...

The old sabers ran in great haste. Yu Qingguan aside, the rest had never once thought they'd see a day of being fathers. They raced out of the palace the whole way, and since they weren't allowed to ride within the capital, they ran so hard they might as well have carried their horses on their backs.

Once out of Yanjing, it was whip and gallop the whole way. Reaching Guard Lane, Tong Jintai jumped down and fell. He lifted his head, saw his own gate crowded with people, and lay there unable to find his feet.

There was nothing for it but to have Ma Ergu and Yu Qingguan haul him up between them and walk him in, with Chen Dasheng trotting along behind. But coming to the Tong gate, someone seized his ear.

The old lady glared at her foolish grandson: "You young lad, what are you here to see?"

So saying, she stopped Erdian, Yougui and Guan Si'er too, and shooed them off like piglets.

Chen Dasheng went home feeling uneasy. Married two years now, and still just a lad?

He came in his gate rather crestfallen, and saw at a glance his little wife sitting under the osmanthus in the court, stitching a cloth tiger stitch by stitch.

The sunlight came through the leaves, thread on thread of it on his wife's face, so she too seemed to shine, lovely beyond words, like a true... mother?

Qi Qian'er saw Chen Dasheng come in and smiled: "You're back quick."

Chen Dasheng scratched his head, and asked with an awkward smile: "Ah, got the word and rode straight back. Why didn't you go over?"

He'd no sooner asked than his wife rolled her eyes hard at him. Qi Qian'er was exasperated: "You truly know nothing. We two haven't consummated yet. It's not that we'd bring bad luck on them, it's that they'd bring it on us, so we can't even go look. Have you eaten?"

Chen Dasheng was used to her bullying by now, and hearing her out, picked up a new bit of knowledge. He looked at the sky, guessed the hour, and said: "Not hungry yet." Then he sat on the stool Siyue brought and watched his wife sew.

Qi Qian'er didn't look at her work at all. Her hand ran the needle to and fro as if it had eyes, while her gaze was on beyond the wall and her ears listening hard.

Chen Dasheng watched her a while. He grew bored and asked: "You're making a tiger? For Jintai's child?"

Qi Qian'er looked at the cloth tiger and smiled: "Mm, this isn't a tiger. It's a sleep-spirit, set by the child's pillow to eat its bad dreams."

Was there such a wondrous thing in the world?

Chen Dasheng was astonished. He reached over and took it. He wasn't the man he used to be, and could flatter now: "My wife's hands are clever."

Qi Qian'er was taken aback and looked at him: "How is this clever? It's a rough little job. For clever hands in our house, look to Quanzi's household. You haven't seen the shoe-soles Quanzi wears, how thick they are..." She measured with her fingers: "Stitch packed close on stitch, that's real care. Hard as Quanzi is on shoes, they wouldn't wear through in three months."

With that, she took the sleep-spirit back and kept sewing. She'd sewn only a little more when she heard someone beside her say, a touch sourly: "Others have wives to make their shoes, and I wear the quartermaster's."

At that Qi Qian'er's heart jumped, and she near ran the needle clean through her finger.

She dodged her finger, and said none too pleasantly: "Didn't I just send you over three pairs of unlined shoes?"

Qi Qian'er wouldn't soften, and pushed back at him: "Other men's wives have plenty of leisure, with nothing to do but make shoes to pass idle hours. Your wife's had no such luck, nor such an easy life! I'm busy with the odds and ends of seven households. I tell you, Chen Scabby, you'd have me make your shoes too? A little paste-faced sleep-spirit takes me seven or eight months."

Qi Qian'er's tongue was sharp, and her head came nearer and nearer till Chen Dasheng leaned back.

"...All day long what fine dreams are you dreaming? To your eye I married into an official's gate and became a madam. But behind that gate trails a whole string of tangled troubles. I owed you in a former life, and can't finish paying it, is that it? You tell me. Your house's troubles high, middle and low, you've spared me not one. Brothers' wives, children, manors, elders, where am I to find ease among these? And you'd have me make shoes?"

Chen Dasheng was rarely so close to his wife, and his head swam, his nose full of sweetness, his heart sour and aching and swollen, as if he'd fallen ill, tugging strangely with a nameless hurt.

He thought, how big his wife's eyes were, the black so black, the white so white, truly lovely.

No telling how it happened, but as if some sprite drove him, he blurted out, muddled: "Then, then if you've no time, I, I'll make you a pair."

Qi Qian'er froze, blinked, sat straight, and a long while later said, out of countenance: "Pah, talking wild all day, make me shoes... pah!"

Chen Dasheng bared his teeth in a grin and stood: "What, you don't believe it?"

Qi Qian'er nodded: "Mm, I don't."

Chen Dasheng looked around, saw the servants had withdrawn, and said grinning: "I didn't have this good life before. I went into the recruit camp young, and any good thing back then belonged to the old soldiers first. What were the likes of us to do? Look after ourselves. My luck was fair, though. The first time I fought for grain-pay I met a good elder brother who'd been a leatherworker before. If not for him I'd have gone barefoot."

That said, Chen Dasheng looked round and asked: "Where's our hide-store?"

Qi Qian'er's tongue was wicked too, and she pursed her lips: "You think this is the palace? A piddling little officer like you, and you think we've got a hide-store? There's some hide in the west wing at the back."

She'd no sooner said it than she saw Chen Dasheng go bounding off to the back court.

When he'd run off, Qi Qian'er muttered: "As if it were real, make me shoes? Aiyo, what luck have I for that..."

She bent and went on plying her flying needle. She had at least to be ready for Wanru's baby's third-day washing, and must bring out a set of her own needlework whatever came.

But stitch by stitch, there was a hankering in her heart, and now and then she stole a glance toward the back court.

Before long the door-board sounded over there, and at once she bent her head and made a show of absorption, and dared not lift it again.

A string of long strides sounded. Qi Qian'er, pinching her needle, raised her head and saw her foolish man carrying a dozen hides, his face bright as a great peony in full season.

"Wife, we've deer-hide as fine as this?"

Chen Dasheng, the deer-hide in his arms, dragged over a stool and sat facing Qi Qian'er. He bent to turn the hides over and said: "Oh, a year out of the vat too. Good work, this. No worse than the old Yanjing leather trade."

Ya, that talk was no layman's. This wasn't caught last year, it was brought home and freshly tanned at the leather-dealer's.

Qi Qian'er lifted her face to his earnest look and smiled: "Oh, our Lord Chen truly knows his trade?"

Chen Dasheng began to roll his eyes too, a touch smug: "What do you mean, truly know? I've made myself who knows how many pairs. Only the soles are fiddly, and even those I've done before."

As he spoke, he reached easily and caught one of his wife's feet, and lifted off the shoe she'd embroidered with orchids.

In two lifetimes Qi Qian'er's foot had never been so handled, and angry and abashed she cried low: "Let go! Chen Dasheng, what are you doing! Let go!"

Chen Dasheng laughed, and patted her little white sock: "Doing what? My wife's worn out, my wife works hard, I'll make my wife shoes. I can't do your kind of stitching, but boots I can. Rest easy, another day I'll bring you back a pair of little horse-boots for certain."

Qi Qian'er couldn't get out a word, and smoke fairly came from her seven orifices, her face burning red and helpless, and she talked wild too: "I don't, I don't even ride, what do I want horse-boots for, let go..."

"I won't. Behave, don't kick! Kick me dead and you're a widow again... I hear the Six-Steed farm sends the Board of War a lot of good colts this year. I'll have, have Liu Daya get me a good one. Does my wife like black, or spotted?"

"...Black..."

Chen Dasheng was an earnest one. Say he'd make shoes and he'd make shoes. He took his wife's foot and measured it with care, and was studying it close when Meng Wanquan came running into the court.

"It's born, born, born, born, Dasheng, mama-yeah!"

Meng Wanquan came into the court and saw his brother cradling his wife's foot, about to kiss it.

He covered his eyes and backed out. Chen Dasheng and Qi Qian'er sprang apart, and they heard Meng Wanquan tell Yu Qingguan, who had come with him to bring the news: "Brother! Don't go in! Our, our Scabby's in there gnawing his wife's foot..."

Qi Qian'er, furious, kicked Chen Dasheng over, pulled on her shoe and rushed out.

Chen Dasheng spent a good while rubbing his chest before he crawled up. He came slowly to the gate and saw Meng Wanquan flat against the wall, stock-still with a black eye, and Meng Wanquan's wife Lu-shi, holding her belly, tenderly wiping his eye with a kerchief. Lu-shi saw Chen Dasheng come out and said, vexed: "For no reason at all. Whoever heard of a young aunt striking her husband's elder brother!"

Chen Dasheng pinched his nose and sighed: "Mm, Qian'er's kind and mild. Were it me..." He held up two fingers to Lu-shi: "I'd have blacked both his eyes!"

Lu-shi was a little startled. She waited till Chen Dasheng had gone, then slapped her man in a temper. But her man, seeing the coast was clear, at once fell to whispering in her ear.

In the Tong court were his wife's mother and father, her brother and his wife, the Chen old lady, old Madam Xu, old Madam Tao, Ding Yuniang and her mother-in-law...

Chen Dasheng saw the sea of heads and was astonished. When had this house come to hold so many people?

On the steps Tong Jintai, tears and snot running, clutched a swaddled bundle and would give it to no one.

Others pressed him hard to yield it, and still he wouldn't let go.

He was somewhat frantic, afraid the child would be carried off and never given back. His little sister had been carried out just that way, once. He saw Chen Dasheng come and stopped his tears at last. His lips shook, and he rose swaying and said: "Brother, Brother! Come quick and look, my wife, my wife's borne me a person!"

He held the child up for his eldest brother to see, startling Dong-shi so badly her whole body shook, and she half-crouched with a hand out, ready to catch the baby the whole time.

Qi Qian'er saw him so hopeless and scolded him, laughing: "What are you saying, you hopeless thing! Not bear you a person, would she bear you a monkey? Boy or girl?"

Tong Jintai heard nothing anyone said. He showed the child to his big brother like a treasure.

What is a big brother? A big brother is the one who with his own flesh stood before you to die in your place, to live for you, to fret over your food and drink, who stood in for your father and mother.

Chen Dasheng was flustered too. He'd never seen so tiny a person, a red little wrap of he knew not what, said to be a person and not half his arm long.

He shook too, and dared not take it, and looked round in a fluster, asking over and over: "What, what, what do I do? There's, there's a person?"

The old lady couldn't bear the boy's hopeless look, and went up and gave him a slap: "Look at her quick and send her back. So small a child, don't you carry on till she catches the wind."

Chen Dasheng let out a breath in his heart and nodded quickly: "Ah, yes yes yes, send her back, send her back..."

But Tong Jintai wouldn't have it. He drew the child back at once, and sat cradling her on the steps, his eyes gone unfixed: "Send back? Send back for what? You don't keep your word, you all trick me... If I send her back and you don't return her, what then?"

No telling what thought struck him, he lifted the little wrap and looked at her with great care: "Brother, I have a child... a daughter, I have a daughter. Look how lovely she is, all dark, and fuzz on her face too..." He put his face close and sighed: "So soft..."

Qi Qian'er thought that if Tong Jintai kept talking this way about Zhang Wanru's daughter, he might well get himself beaten half to death tomorrow. She saw him half in a trance and coaxed him, smiling: "Oh, let me see her too. Flower first, then fruit. A daughter's fine."

Tong Jintai said, smiling: "Yes, it's fine. No fruit at all would be fine too. Ten flowers and I'd be glad. Sister, look, this is my daughter..."

Still talking, he began to cry again. Before the tears and snot could run down, Meng Wanquan, black-eyed, came stumbling into the court and shouted: "Quick! Quick! Where's the midwife?"

He stumbled up to the old lady and cried: "Granny, help me, help me, my wife's laughed the child out, she, she's wet the floor all over, come look quick... come look..."