It was the twentieth day of the twelfth lunar month, and night had fallen.
Snow had been falling without pause since the latter half of the afternoon. By the time the lamps were lit, it had grown even denser.
A thick layer of white snow weighed down the upturned eaves of the First Prince’s residence. The iron wind chimes at the corners had frozen solid; when the wind swept past, they could not make even the faintest sound.
The brazier in the study burned a deep red.
The finest silver-bone charcoal filled the brazier to the brim. Flames licked at its edges, heating the room until the skin on one’s face prickled. Yet a layer of frost had formed over the window paper. Inside and out were two different worlds, divided by nothing more than a thin sheet of paper.
The back door creaked.
The chief steward came stumbling in from the side passage, snow covering his shoulders. His black boots were wet halfway up, and ice crystals clung to his trouser cuffs.
Without even stopping to brush himself off, he closed the door tightly behind him, hurried several steps forward, and dropped to his knees before the writing desk.
A rush of cold air entered with him, making the flames in the brazier lean to one side.
Xiao Jingxing did not look up.
He held a pair of copper tongs in his hand, prodding the charcoal one piece at a time.
When he moved one aside, a dark-red ember was revealed beneath. Sparks crackled and leaped upward.
“Speak.”
The chief steward swallowed, rubbed his hands together, and worked some life back into his frozen tongue.
“Your Highness, I made two rounds outside Prince Jing’s residence today.”
“The gatekeeper gave the same excuse as before. He said the Third Prince had caught a chill and was confined to bed resting, and that he would see no one.”
“I gave Your Highness’s name and presented a calling card. The gatekeeper accepted it, but then turned around and said that the Third Prince had just taken his medicine and fallen asleep, so it would be inconvenient to wake him.”
The First Prince smiled and nodded. “Mm.”
Seeing that the First Prince was in a good mood, the chief steward rolled his eyes and edged forward on his knees.
“This servant had the foresight to keep an eye out.”
“I went around to the back street of Prince Jing’s residence. There is a row of vegetable sellers and deliverymen there. I gave two qian of silver to the butcher who delivers meat to Prince Jing’s residence and bought him a bowl of strong liquor. The butcher was loose-lipped. After two bowls, he told me everything.”
Xiao Jingxing took an interest. “Oh? What did he tell you?”
“The kitchen at Prince Jing’s residence still receives meat every day as usual. Three jin of pork, two jin of mutton, and every other day, one fat chicken. Not a single item has been reduced.”
The chief steward paused.
“This servant also visited several large pharmacies in the city—Tongrentang, Heniantang, Huichun Hall, even that old shop in the western district that specializes in treating chills. Prince Jing’s residence hasn’t bought so much as half a dose of medicine in the past half month!”
Xiao Jingxing let out a derisive laugh.
“He doesn’t take medicine, yet he eats great slabs of meat every day.”
He tapped the copper tongs against the rim of the brazier and turned over the charcoal.
“Old Third is recovering from this chill rather well. He’s getting quite plump.”
The chief steward seized the opportunity to chime in. He raised his head and asked cautiously, “Your Highness means… the Third Prince is pretending to be ill?”
“Pretending to be ill is nothing unusual.”
Xiao Jingxing set the copper tongs beside the brazier, leaned back into his chair, and slowly turned the mutton-fat jade thumb ring on his index finger.
“An imperial prince pretending to be ill—to avoid assignments, avoid trouble, or avoid His Majesty’s temper. Every dynasty has seen it.”
“What is unusual is that he chose to pretend at precisely this moment.”
“The public memorial from Jiangnan has reached the capital. The Six Ministries have passed it around, and the entire city is chewing over the rumor that Xu Youde is finished this time.”
“Whose man is Xu Youde? He is the head of the Chengyi Earl household, and the father of Xu Qinghuan.”
“Who in the capital hasn’t seen how close the Third Prince has grown to the Xu family over the past two months?”
“Now that everyone is saying the Xu family is about to fall, the Third Prince isn’t worried in the least. He has even shut his doors, sending no one outside to make inquiries, and continues to stay behind closed doors eating meat.”
“So he already knows which way the wind is blowing. Xu Qinghuan, Xu Qinghuan…”
Just as he finished speaking, the gatekeeper’s quiet announcement came from beneath the corridor.
“Your Highness, several gentlemen have arrived!”
Xiao Jingxing raised an eyebrow.
“They’re an hour earlier than I expected.”
He sat up straight and smoothed his sleeves.
“Let them in.”
…
The chief steward personally lit a lantern and carried a sheepskin-covered wind lantern to the side entrance to receive the visitors.
Before long, a jumble of footsteps sounded beneath the corridor.
The door curtain was lifted, and four men entered in succession.
The first was Vice Minister Yang of War, in his early fifties. He was tall and thin, with hollow cheeks and a gray goatee. Upon entering, he habitually swept his eyes over the windows and door before removing his fox-fur cloak.
The second was a vice minister of the Court of Imperial Studs. He was heavyset, with a round face flushed red from the cold, and kept both hands tucked inside his sleeves, rubbing them vigorously.
The third was the commander of the Five Cities’ Military Command. A military man by background, he had broad shoulders and a thick back. After removing his cloak, he revealed a set of dark-blue riding sleeves beneath.
The last was a black face.
He was the Iron-Faced Censor of the Censorate, Censor Zhou—the man whose kick had overturned a table at the Deer-Crying Banquet, earning his pair of official boots a place in everyone’s memory.
All four men were wrapped in fox fur, ice crystals clinging to their collars. After entering, they dispensed with pleasantries and offered a hurried salute.
The chief steward brought over four low stools and served each man a cup of hot tea. He then withdrew to the door and stood with his hands folded before him.
Censor Zhou did not even have time to take the tea. He rushed two steps toward the desk and called out in a booming voice:
“Your Highness!”
“That eight-hundred-li urgent memorial from Jiangnan has caused a sensation throughout the Six Ministries today! Xu Youde forcibly seized sacrificial fields, dug up people’s ancestral graves, and embezzled government funds. Hundreds of scholars in Jiangnan have signed their names to the accusation.”
“The clan seals of the Chen and Fang families are both affixed at the top. This is a blade sent by Heaven itself into Your Highness’s hands!”
The more he spoke, the more agitated he became. Spittle flew from his mouth.
“At the Deer-Crying Banquet, the Xu girl and that madman Xu Zijin made a spectacle of themselves by stepping all over Your Highness’s dignity!”
“The entire capital is laughing at us behind our backs! When that old bastard from the Taiyuan Li clan flung up his sleeves and walked away, I was standing right beside the stairs. That look, that manner—just thinking about it still makes my teeth ache with anger!”
“Now Xu Youde has stuck out his own neck. Why has Your Highness strictly ordered us to hold our position?!”
He pulled a memorial from his sleeve and offered it up with both hands.
“This subordinate has already drafted it! Three thousand two hundred characters, every one of them sharp enough to draw blood! All that remains is Your Highness’s approval. It can be sent to the Office of Transmission first thing tomorrow morning!”
At that moment, a withered hand reached out and stopped it halfway.
Vice Minister Yang of War did not look at Censor Zhou. He merely gazed at Xiao Jingxing behind the desk and said slowly, “Censor Zhou, remain calm.”
Censor Zhou stared at him and turned his head. “Vice Minister Yang, what do you mean by that?”
Vice Minister Yang did not answer. He withdrew his hand, lifted his teacup, and lowered his head to blow away the floating tea leaves.
The vice minister of the Court of Imperial Studs sat on his low stool, both hands still rubbing inside his sleeves. After rubbing them for a long while, he finally spoke in a hesitant murmur.
“This subordinate… this subordinate also has something to report.”
“I’ve been holding it in for two days. I can’t even sleep for worrying over it, but… but I haven’t dared say it aloud.”
The commander of the Five Cities’ Military Command stood by the door. His lips moved, but he said nothing.
Silence settled over the study.
From behind the desk, Xiao Jingxing studied the expressions of all four men one by one.
Censor Zhou’s urgency. Vice Minister Yang’s composure. The vice minister’s fear. The commander’s taciturn heaviness.
“None of you dare speak?”
“Then sit down first.”
He rapped his fingers twice against the desk.
“I’ll begin with one question. Of those who have read the copied version of that public memorial, who among you examined the signatures closely?”
