Emperor Tiansheng was wrapped in a sable-lined cloak, half his body sunk into the soft cushions of a rosewood luohan couch.
The floor heating burned fiercely, yet his legs remained tightly covered. The heavy marten-fur blanket kept out even the slightest draft.
The ruler of the Great Qian had sunken cheeks bearing the ashen pallor of a dying man. Only the two spots of unnatural color high on his cheekbones betrayed any hint of life, and even his breathing was thick and rotten, like the rasp of something long decayed.
At that moment, he held a report written on yellow silk between his fingers.
The stench of blood from the Deer-Cry Feast had not yet been buried beneath the snow outside before the entire bloody affair had already been delivered, in black and white, into the emperor’s hands.
Emperor Tiansheng stared at the memorial for a moment, then let out a cold laugh.
Three paces from the couch, Chief Eunuch Li was crouched beside the brazier. Holding a pair of brass tongs, he carefully prodded the glowing animal charcoal.
At the sound of his master’s cold laugh, Eunuch Li’s scalp went numb. His movements grew even more delicate, and he did not dare draw a single loud breath.
Smack.
Emperor Tiansheng casually tossed the secret report onto the small table beside the couch.
“To establish the mind for Heaven and Earth; to establish the life of the people; to carry on the lost learning of the sages; to bring peace to all generations.”
He recited the twenty-two characters slowly and evenly. Then he closed his eyes and became utterly still.
A deathly silence settled over the heated chamber. The only sound was the water in the medicine pot, bubbling and struggling.
After a full quarter of an hour, Emperor Tiansheng slowly turned his head. With his eyelids half lowered, he tossed two words down at Eunuch Li on the floor.
“Fetch Xu Jie.”
As though granted a reprieve, Eunuch Li hurriedly set down the brass tongs and withdrew with light, careful steps.
It was already three intervals past midnight.
The Grand Secretary, Xu Jie, entered the heated chamber with his gaze lowered. His sharp, restrained old eyes swept rapidly across the room—the boiling medicine pot, the glowing animal charcoal, the blanket wrapped tightly around Emperor Tiansheng’s legs—and finally locked onto the yellow-silk memorial on the small table.
In the space of a breath, the old Grand Secretary understood everything.
Xu Jie stopped four paces before the couch and bowed deeply with clasped hands. The Great Qian had endured three reigns, and as the head of all officials, Xu Jie had been granted the privileges of not having to announce his name when being saluted and of not having to hurry when entering court. At the very heart of Great Qian’s power, he alone was permitted to stand and look this sick tiger in the eye.
“Sit.”
Emperor Tiansheng raised a hand and casually indicated the empty armchair opposite him.
Xu Jie lifted the hem of his official robe slightly and took the seat as instructed.
“Have a look.”
Emperor Tiansheng leaned back into the cushions once more.
Xu Jie picked up the memorial from the small table and shook open the yellow silk. His eyes moved swiftly across the lines, which were filled with the flashing blades and treacherous bloodshed of the great drama at Brightmoon Tower.
The First Prince’s domineering act of secretly mobilizing the Military and Police Office to seal the tower. The danger of the aristocratic clans and powerful nobles launching a challenge in open court. The furious denunciation of the venerable scholars of the Imperial Academy.
And… Xu Zijin crushing a jade cup with his bare hand, blood splashing across the long table in an act of utter resolve.
The farther Xu Jie read, the higher his white brows rose—until he reached the final passage of the report.
“…the newly crowned Second Laureate Xu Zijin declared: We scholars, in studying, should establish the mind for Heaven and Earth…”
The instant Xu Jie read those words aloud, Emperor Tiansheng seized the rest of the sentence.
“To establish the life of the people.” His voice was rougher than before, carrying a metallic note that could not be ignored.
“To carry on the lost learning of the sages.”
“To bring peace to all generations.”
He forced out the remaining words in a single breath.
When his voice fell silent, Emperor Tiansheng stared fixedly at the flames leaping in the brazier. His chest heaved as he let out a heavy sigh.
“These twenty-two characters. Every one is loftier than the last.”
Silence once again filled the heated chamber. Only the steam in the medicine pot thrashed desperately against the lid.
After a moment, Emperor Tiansheng turned his face and suddenly adopted a languid tone.
“That wine cup—did he crush it himself?”
Eunuch Li hurriedly bent at the waist. “Your Majesty, Xu, the provincial runner-up crushed it with his own hand.”
“Hah.” Emperor Tiansheng gave a cold snort. “Quite the ruthless one. He doesn’t even spare himself.”
As he spoke, a strange glint flashed in the old eyes that had seemed so cloudy moments before. He withdrew his gaze, his fingers tapping lightly against the blanket.
“The old fool who was angered into unconsciousness—is he dead yet?”
Eunuch Li did not dare delay. “Your Majesty, the students of the Imperial Academy carried him back to his residence through the night. The imperial physicians treated him with acupuncture, and his life has been saved.”
“Good that his life was saved.” The corner of Emperor Tiansheng’s mouth twitched, his voice turning cold and distant. “So long as he lives, people will visit his bedside every day to fuss over him.”
He paused, then slowly added, “Every day, they will bring up again what happened that night.”
Xu Jie’s eyelid twitched faintly from where he sat in the armchair.
What a vicious move—destroying the enemy’s heart while leaving his life intact. The old emperor clearly intended to keep that pedant alive and turn him into a living target, nailing the hundred-year legacy of the aristocratic clans to the pillar of disgrace, where it could be flogged again and again.
The water in the medicine pot boiled more violently, almost spilling over.
Eunuch Li hurried forward on his knees, using a thick damp cloth to carefully remove two pieces of animal charcoal glowing red-hot. He forcibly subdued the flames.
Xu Jie took the opportunity to step forward and respectfully return the yellow-silk memorial to the emperor.
Emperor Tiansheng did not take it. Instead, he spoke in a low, eerie voice, repeating a line from the secret report:
“The First Prince’s chief aide said—A memorial kept in the Secretariat for one day is merely a memorial. Once submitted, it becomes a case.”
Before the words had fully left his mouth, Emperor Tiansheng suddenly raised his head.
“Since when has my Bureau of Transmission been subject to the orders of a prince’s residence?!”
His thunderous voice exploded through the chamber.
Beside the brazier, the damp cloth in Eunuch Li’s hands froze in midair. His body bent involuntarily even lower.
Emperor Tiansheng had thrown out that damning accusation without the slightest intention of hearing anyone’s explanation.
Slowly, he moved the secret memorial—an instrument capable of determining life and death—over the gilt bronze basin.
Then he released his fingers.
The flames leapt high. The entire page, with all its schemes, plots, and murderous intent, was reduced to ashes in an instant.
“The First Prince talks too much.”
The medicine continued to simmer in the clay pot, filling the room with a bitter smell.
Emperor Tiansheng turned his head and looked once more at Xu Jie seated nearby.
“Grand Secretary, what do you think of those twenty-two characters?”
Xu Jie did not hesitate in the slightest. He clasped his hands and answered frankly, “They are excellent.”
“Old Fox.” Emperor Tiansheng pointed at Xu Jie and gave a dry laugh.
Xu Jie tucked both hands into his broad sleeves and bent his waist to precisely the proper degree. Taking advantage of the emperor’s words, he smoothly excused himself.
“The night is deep and the dew is heavy. This old servant would not dare disturb Your Majesty’s rest any longer. This old servant takes his leave.”
With that, he retreated several paces, perfectly mindful of the limits of propriety, then turned and vanished into the snowy darkness beyond the hall.
The doors of the heated chamber closed once more.
Half reclining on the couch, Emperor Tiansheng murmured the same words over and over:
“To bring peace… to all generations…”
Bang!
The clay lid of the medicine pot finally failed to withstand the violent steam and was thrown onto the table.
Eunuch Li came to himself as though from a dream. In a panic, he seized a thick cotton pad, lifted the earthenware pot, and poured out a large bowl of medicine as black as ink.
Holding the medicine tray high above his head, he went down on both knees and crawled step by step toward the luohan couch. Then he raised the bowl above his head.
Emperor Tiansheng extended fingers like withered branches and steadily lifted the scalding porcelain bowl. He did not drink at once. Instead, he felt the heat of the porcelain burning against his palm.
“Companion Li.”
“This old servant is here!”
“Go on,” Emperor Tiansheng said, staring at the bitter dregs churning endlessly at the bottom of the bowl. His voice was as faint as a gust of wind from the underworld. “After I’m gone, whom should I entrust the Great Qian Empire to—someone who can keep watch over this… bringer of peace?”
Eunuch Li’s bones seemed to melt into mud in an instant. He collapsed completely onto the floor, his breath caught in his throat.
The emperor had never expected the eunuch to answer.
With a muffled laugh, he lifted the bowl and drained the unbearably bitter medicine in one gulp.
What Eunuch Li did not know was that Emperor Tiansheng cast him a cold glance. The suspicion and calculation concealed in the emperor’s eyes ran deeper than the darkness of that winter night.
