It seemed as though the gloom of the locust plague had descended over the capital. For the past two days, the sky had been oppressively dark, and the temperature had plummeted like a heavy scale weight crashing to the ground with a bang.
The peddlers who usually sang out their wares along the roadside had gradually dwindled in number. The bustling streets of days past now held only a few pedestrians hurrying along with their necks hunched against the cold.
Every household had shut its vermilion gates early, burning only a small brazier of charcoal beneath the stove. The feeble warmth seeped through the cracks between the bricks and crept beneath the beds—better than nothing, at least.
Entire families huddled together under thick quilts for warmth, and even the charcoal brazier was lit for no more than half an hour at a time. Winter had yet to arrive in full, and their small store of charcoal had to last until spring.
On this seemingly gloomy yet tranquil day, the Hanlin Academy still retained a hint of liveliness.
Wen Zhuo lounged beside the brazier, spreading his hands to catch the warmth of the flames. The firelight made his bright red official robes gleam.
A reader-cadet approached and announced that the imperial edict for disaster relief had been drafted.
Wen Zhuo did not even lift his eyelids. His gaze remained fixed on the leaping flames as he said indifferently, “Read it.”
The reader-cadet did not dare delay and began obediently. Every now and then, Wen Zhuo interrupted him and ordered him to replace a few words.
The reader-cadet hurriedly acknowledged this and was just about to continue when a series of cries suddenly rang out from the imperial city, completely shattering the calm.
“Look at the sky!”
“There are so many birds… It’s an omen! Quickly, report it to His Majesty!”
The reader-cadet frowned, his face revealing his displeasure. “Who is shouting in the imperial city? Have they no sense of propriety?”
Wen Zhuo, however, seemed intrigued. He fastened his outer robe and rose to go outside.
The two of them stepped through the main gates of the Hanlin Academy and looked up. At once, they froze.
The sky was filled with black birds, blotting out the heavens and the sun as they swept over the golden tiles and red walls of the Forbidden City.
The flock cast a moving shadow over the palace buildings, making even the golden roofs and vermilion steps appear several shades darker.
The reader-cadet’s face went pale. He murmured, “It’s almost winter. How could there be such a massive flock of birds?”
Wen Zhuo merely curved his lips into a faint smile. “Is this really worth making such a fuss over?”
The reader-cadet replied cautiously, “The locust plague is raging, and we happen to be drafting an edict to deal with it. Then this appears before our eyes… I fear it may be an ill omen.”
“An ill omen?” Wen Zhuo tilted his head toward the sky, folding his arms as he said meaningfully, “I think it’s rather good.”
News of the black birds quickly grew wings of its own and spread throughout the Forbidden City.
It was difficult for anyone to see such an unusual phenomenon without connecting it to the one matter that currently concerned all of Great Qian—the locust plague.
At the princes’ residence, Shen Chen had summoned Gong Zhiyuan and Xie Langyang to discuss state affairs when Consort Yi swept aside the curtain and barged in.
Her face was alight with undisguised delight. Completely ignoring Shen Chen’s expression as it darkened at once, she opened her mouth and said, “Chen'er, this is wonderful news! That diviner from my hometown said long ago that an abnormal celestial phenomenon must mean a noble person is about to meet with disaster! Those black birds that just flew over the entire palace must be coming for Shen Zheng. He’s bound to make some colossal blunder while handling the disaster relief this time!”
Xie Langyang and Gong Zhiyuan immediately fell silent, both turning to look at Shen Chen.
Shen Chen had initially wanted to lose his temper, but her words caught his attention instead. He frowned. “What black birds?”
“The ones that just flew over the palace. They looked like crows. Everyone in the capital saw them, and by now the news has probably already reached the Hall of Mental Cultivation!” Consort Yi spoke with spittle flying from her mouth, her eyes shining with schadenfreude.
Shen Chen’s heart stirred.
Could this truly be a sign from Heaven, foretelling Shen Zheng’s downfall?
Just as he was destined to ascend the throne as he had in his previous life, people like Wen Wanshan and Shen Zheng, who defied the natural order, would sooner or later suffer Heaven’s retribution.
He strode to the palace entrance and looked toward the horizon. The black birds had already flown away, though many palace servants could still be heard whispering among themselves.
Shen Chen let out a cold laugh, delight swelling in his heart. “There’s no need for anyone to explain it. Naturally, this is a bad omen.”
Having suffered one blow after another, Xie Langyang had lost much of his confidence. He lowered his voice and reminded him, “Your Highness, Wanshan is deeply resourceful. We cannot afford to let our guard down against him.”
Shen Chen swept his sleeve across the table, knocking aside the increasingly meager midday meal. “Even if he possessed the ability to reach Heaven itself, he couldn’t conjure grain out of thin air. If the entire Wen family were sacrificed to Heaven, Jinchuan Prefecture still wouldn’t be able to lend us any grain!”
Gong Zhiyuan had remained silent all this while. Now, he suddenly narrowed his eyes, his gaze sweeping sharply over the other two men.
“As Grand Secretary, I oversee reports from across the realm, yet I knew nothing of the disaster in Jinchuan Prefecture. The two of you, however, seem remarkably well informed. At the last victory banquet, you knew Mo Shu’s identity before His Majesty did. Now you knew of the disaster in Jinchuan Prefecture ahead of everyone else as well. How curious.”
His words had struck directly at the heart of the matter. Shen Chen and Xie Langyang exchanged a glance, their expressions turning slightly unnatural.
But Shen Chen had no intention of explaining himself to him, much less letting him know that they had played a part in bringing down the Crown Prince.
He shoved away the palace eunuch who stepped forward with a warm robe and forced himself to remain calm, speaking with studied indifference. “So what? There are plenty of things Father doesn’t know.”
—
A small bronze brazier stood year-round in the Hall of Mental Cultivation. Through its dragon-and-phoenix latticework drifted wisps of dragon’s-breath incense.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the hall. Ge Wei appeared, his face full of panic, clutching a black bird tightly in his hands. He stumbled inside and nearly tripped over the threshold.
Fine beads of sweat had gathered at his temples. With a thud, he dropped to his knees on the golden-brick floor and hurriedly reported, “Your Majesty! The palace guards shot down a black bird. It wasn’t an ordinary crow—it was a wild goose!”
His voice was far too loud. Liu Quan, who stood nearby attending to the Emperor, shot him an irritated look. Ge Wei hurriedly hunched his shoulders, and his voice immediately dropped.
Emperor Shunyuan rose from his bed in his robes and fumbled for his outer garment, his movements slightly sluggish. A fit of coughing escaped his lips.
“Cough, cough… A wild goose?”
Ge Wei did not dare delay. The words poured from him like beans from a tipped bamboo tube.
“Your Majesty, wild geese are migratory birds. In spring and summer, they roost near Clearpeace Mountain, and in late summer or early autumn, they migrate in a great flock to Jinchuan Prefecture. I’ve heard that these birds feed exclusively on rice. They can fly for several days and nights without stopping. By now, winter is nearly upon us. By all rights, they should be in Jinchuan Prefecture pecking at the new grain. How could they have suddenly flown back to the capital?”
Emperor Shunyuan lost all trace of sleep. His eyes narrowed slowly, wariness flashing within them.
“You said Jinchuan Prefecture?”
The prefecture had been mentioned twice in a single exchange.
Liu Quan, standing at the side, cast Ge Wei a deep look.
Ge Wei was about to continue when Liu Quan immediately cut him off. Bowing, he said, “Your Majesty, wild geese returning north in late autumn would already be strange enough. But what is even more suspicious is that I examined the bird just now. It was pierced through by an arrow, its bones completely shattered, yet there wasn’t a scrap of flesh left on its body.”
Upon hearing this, Ge Wei hurriedly fell silent and prostrated himself obediently on the ground. He had been too anxious and had forgotten to be subtle, nearly jeopardizing the important matter. Fortunately, Liu Quan had stopped him in time and diverted the Emperor’s attention, allowing him to narrowly escape trouble.
Emperor Shunyuan naturally had no desire to see such a bloody object. Since Liu Quan described it to him, he treated it as though he had seen it himself. He suddenly raised his aged eyes and pondered for a long while before saying, “Summon the Fifth Prince to see Me at once.”
Shen Zheng was summoned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation before he had time to change out of his ordinary clothes.
When he heard that the wild goose which had flown over the imperial palace had turned back from Jinchuan Prefecture, astonishment immediately appeared on his face.
“Father, Jinchuan Prefecture has a mild climate. This year, the harvest was especially abundant, with grain piled as high as mountains. Why would the wild geese fly back to the capital?”
Emperor Shunyuan gave a cold laugh. “What do you think?”
Shen Zheng lowered his eyes and began to ponder carefully.
The hall fell silent for a time. Moments later, Shen Zheng suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with disbelief.
“Could it be that something has happened in Mianzhou?”
Emperor Shunyuan slowly closed his eyes. In the faint light filtering through the glazed roof tiles, one could vaguely make out the anger radiating from him.
“If Mianzhou has no grain, and things have become so desperate that even the birds are fleeing, what good will it do for you to go and borrow grain again?”
Shen Zheng froze for an instant, then immediately understood what had happened. The astonishment on his face turned into a bitter smile.
“Taking the blame would be a small matter for me. It’s just that the people of Ying and Jing can’t afford any further delay. They… How could they do such a thing?”
“How could they?” Emperor Shunyuan opened his eyes. There was inevitably a trace of pity in his gaze as he looked at Shen Zheng. “Because at the last victory banquet, they failed to use My hand to bring down Jun Huaishen. At the Chuntai Chess Gathering, they also failed to pin the crime of treason on you. This matter concerning Mianzhou is merely a repeat of the past.”
Shen Zheng’s eyes reddened at once. Choking back his voice, he said, “I don’t understand. I spent ten years in Nanping and never competed with them for anything. Why do they hate me so much?”
Emperor Shunyuan’s lax features were full of exhaustion.
The struggle for the position of heir had already reached such a deranged point. In the eyes of these people, the lives of millions were nothing more than bargaining chips in their contest for power!
After a long while, Emperor Shunyuan gathered his focus once more. His expression as he looked at Shen Zheng was exceedingly complicated.
“The state treasury is empty, and there is no grain near Ying and Jing. Tell Me—what solution do you have?”
Shen Zheng keenly sensed that this was a crucial turning point.
Emperor Shunyuan had long seen through the vile schemes of his many sons. He wanted to appoint a clean-handed man as Crown Prince, but that heir also had to possess enough ability to stabilize the situation.
Shen Zheng drew a deep breath, straightened his back, and bowed with cupped hands. His voice rang out with unwavering force.
“Your son dares to request permission to transport grain from Liang and Ye Prefectures and rush it to Ying and Jing overnight to provide disaster relief. Though the journey is long and some of the grain will inevitably be lost along the way, once it arrives, it will relieve the people’s immediate crisis. With the people’s hearts settled, unrest will naturally not arise, and Father will be able to rest easy in the capital.”
“Your son also dares to request the Imperial Sword from Father. If Mianzhou’s granaries are indeed full and its people unharmed, then everyone will be pleased. But if someone has truly concealed the disaster and obstructed matters in secret, your son will give the people of the realm an explanation!”
When Shen Zheng finished speaking, he met Emperor Shunyuan’s gaze directly. There was not the slightest trace of evasion in his eyes—only a blazing fighting spirit.
Just then, the last piece of dragon’s-saliva incense on the desk burned out, and a wisp of smoke was scattered by the autumn wind sweeping in from outside the hall.
Emperor Shunyuan sat silently on the couch. After a moment, he slowly uttered two words:
“Granted.”
Shen Zheng had just stepped through the palace doors when Emperor Shunyuan called him back again. In a troubled voice, he said, “This time, their target is you. Wen Wanshan was dragged into this because of you. It’s also My fault for insisting that he speak up on your behalf at the victory banquet. Let’s not let him know about this father-and-son conversation today. Otherwise, taking advantage of having the moral high ground, he might even walk off with My exoskeleton.”
Shen Zheng nearly laughed aloud. He thought to himself, Who wants your exoskeleton? I’ve already started making a bicycle for the little cat.
But all he said was, “Your son understands.”
It was already the hour of Wei. The autumn wind was crisp and cool. After taking his leave of the emperor, Shen Zheng trotted down the white jade steps, strode through the Forbidden City, and ‘coincidentally’ ran into Wen Zhuo within the imperial city.
Several compilers from the Hanlin Academy were gathered around Wen Zhuo, taking the opportunity to flatter him shamelessly. Some asked after his health with exaggerated concern, while others fretted over how far the journey was, practically wishing they could go in his place.
“Lord Wen.” Shen Zheng smiled with his hands behind his back and greeted him openly.
Wen Zhuo quickly turned to the people around him and said, “I have matters of disaster relief to discuss with His Highness. You should return to your work.”
Once the others had dispersed, Wen Zhuo’s lashes trembled, brushing away a ray of autumn sunlight. He asked unhurriedly, “It worked?”
“Take a guess, Teacher.”
Wen Zhuo cast him a cool glance. He certainly was not going to guess. How childish.
The two walked side by side along the foot of the imperial city wall. Unable to resist, Wen Zhuo remarked, “You only managed to buy a single wild goose. Your Highness is truly something.”
Shen Zheng chuckled. “Fortunately, there were plenty of crows. I had them paint the crows’ beaks and claws red. From a distance, no one could tell the difference.”
“His Majesty didn’t tell you to keep it from me?”
“Teacher could even guess that?”
“Naturally. I have always been skilled at reading people’s hearts.”
“Then take a guess at what I’m thinking.”
“?”
“Go on.”
“Are you pleased that His Majesty trusts and favors you?”
“Wrong.”
“Was it the danger just now, and your relief at having passed through it safely?”
“Wrong again.”
“Are you thinking of leaving for Liangzhou as soon as possible, before they have time to react?”
“Still wrong.”
“I can’t guess. What is it?”
“The moonlight is beautiful tonight.”
“…Your Highness, it is still afternoon.”
“I know. It’s just beautiful.”
“…”
As they walked, the clouds unexpectedly scattered. Through layers of thick mist came a thread of soft, gentle light.
It was neither strong nor harsh, but resembled moonlight.
The pale glow stretched the shadows of the two men long across the ground, slowly merging them into one.
