Chapter 96

Guard Lane had grown by two daughters, and the household meant to celebrate big no matter what anyone else thought. The lords of Guard Lane planned a grand third-day washing for the babies, but before it came, the Emperor's men called every one of them back.

The mad nun had shown up again. It reminded the Emperor of the days she used to perch on the palace roof. The memory stung, and he went two nights without sleep. In the end he called the Long Saber Garrison back.

Chen Dasheng and the others went back, and no sooner had they sat down outside His Majesty's bedchamber than his snoring started up, loud enough to shake the earth. No one dared laugh, and no one dared say a word about it.

That left seven of the Guard Lane men gone, and Meng Wanquan alone to oversee everything, one foolish new father managing it all himself. He was used to that by now, so of course he slaughtered sheep, cooked meat, hired an opera troupe, sent out invitations, gave alms at the temple, and scattered coins among the beggars to bring his daughter good luck.

Anyone who had never had family torn apart, never lost everyone he had, couldn't understand what was in these old soldiers' hearts. A girl, so what? If ten girls came, they wouldn't look down on a single one. They'd raise every last one like a little princess.

Guard Lane went on cooking its meals and living its life, but in the palace these days, something else big was happening.

She Qingling handed over his post at the Board of Revenue without a shred of reluctance, and gave up the Seal-Holding Eunuch's post along with it.

This startled everyone. People hoping to get their hands on the Board of Revenue had only just started keeping quiet tabs on She Qingling, and here he was giving up control of the state's whole vast treasury the moment he decided to. The Emperor didn't even go through the usual show of offering it back three times and having him decline three times. He pressed She Qingling to stay, several times a day, every time he saw him. But She Qingling wouldn't be moved, not in the least.

"Foster-father, there couldn't be a better time to step back. The new dynasty's grace-examination and last year's two regular examinations have brought a crop of fresh graduates into the court, and the Emperor's hands are freer every day. This is the moment. If you ask your son, we should quit this palace altogether. They don't even pay a wage here. Come home with your son, and from now on, rest easy."

Summer had turned close and hot, and Chen Dasheng's feet stank something awful. Coming off duty, the first thing he did at his father's little courtyard was wash them. He sat comfortably under the eaves, washing his feet and chatting and smiling with his foster-father, She Qingling.

The Board of Revenue was a thankless place to work. When the treasury was poor, everyone dodged the post, because it was hard beyond measure.

After the Emperor took the throne, She Qingling had taken on this thankless post, and with everything he had, he'd helped the Emperor through Great Liang's two hardest years. Now the tide was turning for the better, and his father could give it up without hesitation. Chen Dasheng was glad of it, glad from the heart.

To his eye, his father's body was as thin and dry as kindling, light enough for a good gust to blow away. A few more years of this work at the Emperor's side, and the man would be shaken to nothing.

Chen Dasheng had chased wealth and honor for the sake of revenge, but what was his father chasing? Did he want to spend his days squabbling like fighting-cocks with the old lords in the court hall? With that razor mouth of his, that forked-tongue sharpness, if he didn't rage a few of them into fainting every month, he'd have shamed his own nickname, Bamboo-Leaf Green.

The Emperor always came off looking good, playing the kind ruler. But what about his own father?

The Shaoshang faction had always worked this way. Just last year they'd frightened a new graduate into fainting.

How did that happen? Well, the new graduates all wanted a place at the Hanlin Academy, so the old lords struck first. In the old days, families used to grab a son-in-law straight off the exam results list. In Great Liang, they tied up a laborer off the list instead.

A man had just finished his victory parade through the streets on horseback, dressed in red, and the moment he got down he was seized by our Board of War Left Vice-Minister Zeng Anbang. It was all done at the bidding of the Board of War Minister, Lord Sun Shouyi. The Emperor called him shameless, and shameless he was.

It had been a long time since there was this much ease, half a morning with no need to stand guard through the day behind three ranks of officials inside and three outside. She Qingling waved a rush fan, and as he listened to his son talk, he smiled at the gifts someone had just sent round from behind the hall.

A eunuch doing work that should belong to a minister, when times were desperate, no one said a word against it. Some even praised him for the hard work. But now that the tide had turned, he truly couldn't keep hold of the post.

She Qingling set down the jade ring he'd been turning in his hand and smiled. "Look at my son, pleased as anything?"

Chen Dasheng lifted a foot, and Wan Chunyang quickly carried off the basin.

Chen Dasheng pulled the cloth from his shoulder to dry his feet and said with a foolish grin, "Heh, your son's glad, of course. What's good about the Board of Revenue? The lords of the other five boards sit there red-eyed all day waiting on silver, and there you are holding the purse. Which payment did you ever hand out gladly? You can carry yourself with iron bones because you've no self-interest in your heart, but it's no comfort to be cursed behind your back all the same, is it? That Board of Revenue seat wants either an old mud-loach who's weathered it for years, or someone like you. Hai, and in the end it's someone like you who suffers for it. Your son can't stand to watch it..."

She Qingling laughed and tossed the trinket in his hand down with a clatter. "Wen Fengshu really is an old mud-loach of a thousand years. This time your Emperor has chosen the right man."

Chen Dasheng was blank for a moment, then pulled on his soft shoes, washed and dried his hands at the fresh basin brought in, and sat by his father, looking at him earnestly. "That's what comes of recommending someone with no self-interest in your heart. How about this? We go back to Qingfeng to live, one of these days? Give it a little while, not even two years, and your son will give you a nice fat grandson. Won't that be something to see?"

She Qingling saw how earnest his foster-son's whole face was, and finally let himself relax. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes to the sky, and laughed quietly to himself.

The early-summer sun was gentle, and it fell carefully on She Qingling's handsome face. With his eyes shut, he said, "Long ago Sima Qian bore the punishment of castration and still finished his work as Grand Historian. I've read books since I was small, and it can't have all been for nothing. Once my days are idle, I've a mind to do something worthwhile. Writing books and leaving words behind wouldn't be a bad life. What does my son think?"

Chen Dasheng let out a breath inside, and his smile grew even happier. "That's best of all. With learning as great as yours, and eight grandsons on top of it, their teaching can all fall to you from now on. Your son's a rough man, and he can't do that trade."

She Qingling let out a long breath, turned to look at Chen Dasheng, and said gravely, "Good! Ten of them or eight, so long as you don't grudge me the work. I won't boast of my other skills, but when it comes to teaching, this old man's hand is sure. Sheng'er, when His Majesty took the throne and wanted to give me a title, I didn't dare accept it. A certain campaign's merit was unclear and couldn't be set out plainly. But I've served two more years now, and my moment has come. Once this stretch of work is finished and Wen Fengshu takes over the Board of Revenue, I expect I may come by a title after all..."

She Qingling saw Chen Dasheng look a little startled, and smiled easily. "This Board of Revenue post of mine isn't something I'm giving up lightly either. The old lords need to know my worth, at least. Before, without any of you, I didn't care about any of that. But the family's been growing lately, and next autumn, once your wife comes out of mourning, I need to win some standing for my grandsons and granddaughters at least. Don't tell me you've grown a taste for being the palace's little ancestor?"

Chen Dasheng waved his hands at once. "Listen to you, a taste for it? Look at the muddle in this palace, little girls crowding in, crop after crop. So let me say it plainly. You've pulled back right at the flood's height, and your son's let out a breath of relief. Take your ease from now on. Neither your son nor your daughter-in-law is a fool, and we're in no hurry for whatever little estate you'd win for the children. You're the father. From here on, just enjoy your comfort..."

She Qingling was overjoyed, and handed his son fruit with his own hand. The very thing a whole court of ministers scrambled over, this father and son truly thought little of.

They were at their chat when Ma Ergu came hurrying to say the Emperor had ordered them to the Jiusi Hall.

At that She Qingling's mouth twitched. He shook his head, resigned, and muttered mockingly, "Tss, born with an emperor's bones and a bellyful of soft spots for little girls. All this dithering back and forth, this heart tied in a hundred knots, it wears me out just watching it. Go over there and say little. That Meng, the fifth son, likes to have his own way. Let him have it. Whatever he says, just smile and agree."

Chen Dasheng smiled, rose, went in and changed to his guard's dress, and trotted off.

At the Yanjing Jiusi Hall, Chen Dasheng arrived just in time to run into Tang Jiuyuan, Director of the Bureau of Clarified Governance at the Board of Punishments.

Their two houses were neighbors, and if you took a stroll up the back mountain some day, you'd see little Lord Tang out there, always with his lovely wife and a small flower-basket, not gathering mushrooms but picking wildflowers just for fun.

This couple had their faults, and not small ones. You climb a hill that high, and wouldn't it be better to come home with some wild greens and mushrooms for dinner?

But they were close and easy for all that, and the two greeted each other smiling and walked in together.

Tang Jiuyuan was a decent sort. Near the door, he said low into Chen Dasheng's ear, "Brother Feilian, once we're inside, let's find a corner and just sit and listen. This is jianghu business, the Jiusi Hall's to handle, understand?"

He checked that no one was around, then put his lips to Chen Dasheng's ear. "They say Tan Shouyi's invited ten old hidden masters into the capital to guard his son. Our Yanjing here may be in for some chaos."

Chen Dasheng had known this for a while. Seeing that Tang Jiuyuan trusted him enough to speak freely, he said low with a smile, "I'd never have guessed the Tan house kept so many old hidden masters in secret."

Tang Jiuyuan raised a brow. "Who says not? Old Marshal Tan's fond fatherly heart really does move the likes of us."

Last year, when the Emperor was in danger, the Tan house never mentioned having so many old hidden masters, and never thought to use them to save the throne. All they sent up was a memorial of good wishes half a foot thick. Look at this display now. Hmph. Ruler and minister, divided at heart, plain for anyone to see.

The two gossips followed the guide-boards, each deferring to the other, and went into a courtyard. Say what you like about the Jiusi Hall being a place of danger, it had an elegant corner too.

The courtyard ahead was called Wanyu Hall. Stepping in, they found a lush wild stand of mixed bamboo, with a cobbled path winding half-hidden down the middle to lead them on. A few steps further, the view opened wide, and there, cradled inside a nine-turn bridge, sat a small, exquisite pavilion with four upswept corners.

The pavilion stood open on every side, and from a distance they could see quite a few people had already arrived. Tang Jiuyuan looked around with his hands clasped behind his back and smiled low. "Brother Feilian, fine spot, this. See, bamboo hemming it in on the outside, and everything thrown wide open inside. No fear of eavesdroppers."

Chen Dasheng had never realized his neighbor was so loose-tongued. He raised a fist to his lips, smiling, and stepped onto the bridge. After turning and turning along it, he reached the center at last and was met there by an old acquaintance, Xie Wuhao.

"Aiya, aiya, my lords, the Jiusi Hall's run off its feet today. I was just seeing to some Board of War lords and couldn't come out to greet you, and here you've come yourselves. This, this is truly remiss of me. I beg your pardon, my lords, your pardon!"

Chen Dasheng wasn't about to pardon him, and looked at him with a teasing smile. "Oh, Warden Xie's not calling us young lords today?"

Xie Wuhao's face fell, abashed, but Chen Dasheng had already gone on into the pavilion with Tang Jiuyuan. They greeted a few colleagues they knew, sat down in a corner, and took pastries from the railing to feed the carp in the pool below.

The Jiusi Hall's pastries were hard as ever. Too embarrassed to crack one open in front of everyone, Chen Dasheng worked it soft under the table instead, pinching off a crumb now and then and flicking it into the water behind him. A great crowd of fish gathered there, gulping and burbling, each mouth gaping open. It wasn't a lovely sight at all. Rather horrid, really.

Chen Dasheng thought it done in secret, but a sub-warden of the Jiusi Hall saw it, and spat and cursed: "Wastrel dandy!"

Xie Wuhao happened to overhear him, and went over quietly and said low, "That's an old saber there, where are your eyes? Next to him, you're the wastrel dandy. Shut your mouth, and don't go shaming the Jiusi Hall."

The man flushed and turned to look Chen Dasheng over once more, just as the call went up: the Chief Warden had arrived.

Meng Dingchen was a proper second-rank great official, and none seated there ranked as high, so all rose to receive him.

He too had just come from the palace, but had changed into plain Daoist robes to meet with his colleagues here, and wore an easy, hearty air. Coming in, he cupped his hands offhand. "Aiyo, my lords, hard work, all of you. My shabby office is short of hands. We tied up two off the exam list, and they turned round and ran off again. No graduate wants anything to do with a shabby place like mine, so I've no one to work with, and today I'm remiss and neglectful..."

Since this was all court business, however outrageous the man sounded, they smiled and returned his courtesy in earnest anyway.

Once everyone had sat again and fresh tea was served, Meng Dingchen smiled. "Hai, it's a small matter really, hardly worth troubling all your offices over. I've told His Majesty more than once that the jianghu's petty squabbles are past counting, and that your lordships already carry heavy duties, so there's no need to trouble you over this. But the Emperor said that for Yanjing's peace, no office could be left out of it, and so here we are, meeting today..."

Here was the matter. After Tan Shiyuan was slashed on the flower-street, Qing Buyi had attacked him twice more, though "attacked" wasn't quite the word, since it was really just one-sided violence.

This time she'd ruined one of Tan Shiyuan's eyes and one of his hands. She meant to flay him alive.

The Emperor had disliked Tan Shiyuan from the start, and was happy to let this creature be drawn out of Yanjing and left to die.

But Tan Shiyuan was no fool. He was vicious and cunning, and when he couldn't get into Baiquan Mountain, he had to find some way to go on living in Yanjing instead. To be hunted and hacked at alive, in broad day, before everyone's eyes, with the court unable to step in, would cost the court its dignity even in his death.

The man had given up on living, and meant to drag everyone else down with him. He hated this country, and he resented his father even more, and the whole Tan house besides. Every hope he'd once had was long since turned to ash.

But sickening and hated as he was, someone was still looking after him. Ten old hidden masters came, one after another, into the jianghu, settled in, and registered with the Jiusi Hall as the rule required. Once that was done, each of them kept watch, never moving, at the Ningshu Qin-Lodge where Tan Shiyuan was hiding.

This qin-lodge, too, was a tinderbox waiting to go up, and reckless Tan Shiyuan was mostly caught barely clothed, which ruined Qing Buyi's reputation utterly.

Meng Dingchen was a proud man, and his point was this: since it was a jianghu quarrel, it was naturally the Jiusi Hall's affair to handle, and the lords here only needed to be present and watch the fight from a distance.

As for the Jiusi Hall itself, it meant to turn out in full, first ring the Ningshu Qin-Lodge, and watch the two sides wear each other down. If Qing Buyi won and the old masters came off hurt, they'd seize the moment to bundle Tan Shiyuan out of Yanjing and hide him somewhere on Baiquan Mountain, and call that a settlement with the Tan house. If Qing Buyi lost, they'd take her into custody, negotiate with Qin She, and bar her from the capital for good.

This was his plan.

When Meng Dingchen finished speaking, a boot-licker stood up. "Since the Chief Warden puts it that way, let's leave it at that. We'd be glad of the ease. Jianghu business isn't the same trade as the archery and chariot-driving, the mace and spear work, the dagger-axe and halberd skills we trained in, the five weapons each put to its own use, the long weapon guarding the short, the short rescuing the long. Heh heh, it's just not the same path, my lords, wouldn't you agree...?"

The lords smiled, much embarrassed.

Tang Jiuyuan said low to Chen Dasheng: "This one's the Second Prince's man."

Chen Dasheng, pinching his third pastry, lifted his face to look at the man still spraying his words around, and said, "What do you expect, he's just grass on a wall, bending whichever way the wind blows. His wife's brother studies alongside the Fifth Lord in the palace, I've seen him a few times. Brother-in-law and little brother-in-law, same type, both of them fond of showing off their book learning. Outrank them by even one grade and you're like a father to them. Say what you like, that sort's rather likable too. No one hates them."

That said, he passed Tang Jiuyuan a pastry, and the two went on working them soft and feeding the fish.

But none of these people knew that far off, five hundred li from Yanjing, Tan Shouyi, the frontier governor who had gone to take up his post, didn't dare return without an imperial edict, and could only make camp and wait for word.

The old wretch had even readied his son's coffin, a great triple coffin, far more lavish than the one his second son once had.

His house held a son who had thwarted him at every turn: tricked Qing Buyi out from under his care, then with his own hands driven her mad enough to try to assassinate the Emperor, and offended Qin She again and again. Now that son was going to die, and Tan Shouyi didn't mean to grieve over it.

He'd written the plea for rescue only because he was Tan Shiyuan's father, and had to look like a caring one, had to give the world some kind of account. As for whether his son lived or died, he'd already sent a secret letter, confessing fault first, then restating his real position at the end, that even if this wretch died, he begged His Majesty to grind his bones to dust and scatter the ash.

The head of a great clan was always made of this temper. Only it was sad to say that the old Tan house's third generation had been ruined in the raising, by that wretched father.

Night fell, and in the tent an ox-tallow candle burned, and the young Tan Weixin was bound to a long bench with ox-sinew, and his grandfather stood over him with a horse-whip and lashed him.

The boy had grit in his bones. His grandfather laid twenty-odd lashes on him, each one splitting skin and flesh, and he made no sound at all. He bit his lip, sweat breaking out on his brow, and bore it raw.

Tan Shouyi was old, and shook all over with rage. He laid on another lash and cursed, "Little turtle-spawn, just like your father, bones as hard as my Ze'er's, the very same!"

Sad to say, his grandson would not oblige.

Tan Weixin, silent all this while, spat out a mouthful of bloody spittle and gasped back, "My father? My father is Tan Shiyuan, that base slave's son. How dare he call himself my father. He, he's not worthy of it!"

That single word nearly toppled Tan Shouyi backward with rage. Whip in hand, he went at the boy with lash after lash, a dozen and more, this time with a heavy hand, wounding him down to the bone, until Tan Weixin couldn't bear it anymore and cried out one long wail: "Father!"

And crying it, he fainted away.

Tan Shouyi saw his grandson faint and felt not a shred of pity. He wanted the boy doused awake so he could keep beating him.

His old guard couldn't bear it any longer, and came forward to plead. "Master, you mustn't beat him any more. For the Second Master's sake, let's teach him slowly, little by little. This is the bloodline the Emperor named heir to the Second Master. If anything happens to him, you'll have no good answer for the Emperor..."

Though Tan Shouyi had a thousand fine schemes laid out in his heart, in that moment he was nothing but despair. He pointed the whip at his bloodied little grandson and cursed, "Best beat him dead, then, and find my Ze'er a more obedient one. I'd sooner have a spineless coward than this!

"Look how bold he is. All last year, how did I raise him? His father, his father never got handling like this, and I never once guarded against anything, and still this wolf-cub dared to steal my clan-head token and secretly send off the retainers our house bled two generations to keep alive, just to go, to go save that beast who deserves a thousand cuts! Is he worthy of it? Good, good!"

The more he thought about it, the angrier he grew, and in his despair he lunged to kick the boy, but the old guards rushed in and pulled him back. Tan Shouyi went on cursing. "The Tan house doesn't belong to this old man alone! Beat him dead and at least that's an account settled. Truly our ancestors laid up no virtue at all, one fool father and a whole litter of fools after him. I meant to take you all far away, first to mend our strength, rest, and grow again, with no outsider troubling the Tan name, and the Emperor forgiving even our slips. And, and now look, every hope I had is ruined by this little beast... ruined!"

Tan Shouyi shoved away the teacup a guard offered him, and in a few strides crossed the tent and kicked over, with all his strength, the bench Tan Weixin was bound to. Then he lashed his still-senseless grandson again and again.

He was at his madness when from without came a burst of hurried hoofbeats, and someone got down stumbling and ran headlong to the tent.

Tan Weitong came in, looking wretched, his face covered in stubble, his eyes bloodshot. His lips trembled first as he looked at his brother, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, he heard Tan Shouyi roar, "Drag him out!"

Old guards grabbed at him with many hands and hauled him backward a dozen steps by the waist. Desperate, Tan Weitong bent his head and bit into an old guard's ear, and like a man eating human flesh, tore a piece clean away.

He roared, savage: "Let me go!"

Even short half an ear, the guard still didn't dare let him go.

At his wit's end, Tan Weitong drew a dagger from his sleeve and set it against his own throat, right against a mortal spot, and cried out loud, "Let go!"

At that none dared move.

Dagger still to his throat, Tan Weitong walked on into the tent, and step by step came before his brother. The dagger fell from his hand, and he knelt, clasped his brother to him, and the tears came streaming. He said, savage, "Ha, dead, is he? Dead and free of it all, eh? Grandfather, aren't you whipping your own grandson's corpse now? Our house is complete at last. See, I've come too. Whip me as well, how about that?"

The whip fell from Tan Shouyi's hand. He stared blankly at his grandson, and at last a mouthful of red blood burst from his mouth, and he fell backward toward the sky.