YUN RONG XIAN (雲榮羡)

  Day 22, 4th Month of the Lunar Calendar, 6000th Year of the Yun Dynasty, Taishan Province, Tian’an Sect

  Is she going to admit it, or will I have to make her?

  Su Tang said nothing, quietly shelving books as the bronze kettle hissed in the background. Steam coiled from the spout, veiling her face in soft vapour. I waited. Just as I was about to prompt her, she materialised beside me, balancing a bamboo tray with my tea and a few carefully chosen snacks.

  She almost startled me. Not because of her sudden appearance, but because I’d forgotten she could move so quietly. I resumed reading memorials as she laid the tray on the desk with methodical grace. Her sleeve brushed the edge of my document, and I lifted my gaze briefly.

  A faint grey line marred the skin of her inner forearm. Barely visible. A scar? No. Something older. Faded and clinical.

  So, the intelligence reports were true—she had some illness. But that didn’t explain why she had ended up in Princess Changping’s residence, barely conscious, in the company of An Lingqi and the Head of Huadu Sect.

  She had been missing an entire day.

  No explanation.

  She had ample opportunity to report her absence, but she contently remained tight lipped. If she wanted, she could have even lied or given an excuse, just like the rest of those servants. But she couldn’t even be bothered to do that.

  Hmm.

  She bowed. Too deep. Too carefully. Then returned to the shelves as if she hadn’t left them at all.

  “I don’t recall assigning you to reorganise the books,” I said, my tone flat. My eyes remained on the document in front of me.

  She stopped, still facing the shelves. Her slender frame seemed even more smaller in the room as she angled her body toward the bookshelf that spanned the left-wing of the room. Her shoulders caved in slightly and she twisted her hands into a clasp. Her hair draped down her back like a veil, swallowing her outline.

  I hadn’t realised how delicate she looked.

  I lifted the book I had been reading. She slowly turned. Her eyes locked on the cover.

  Then, without a word, she knelt. Calmly. Deliberately. Her gaze remained steady. “Your Highness, may I ask where you found this book?”

  An answer disguised as a question.

  I should be the one asking questions. Not you.

  I placed the book on the desk and pushed it toward her. “You tell me.”

  “How can I, when it is Your Highness who possesses it?”

  Despite kneeling with that tiny little body, which looked like it might topple if a strong wind came, she carried a kind of irreverent boldness. Subtle, but palpable. Her words always hovered on the edge of mockery.

  “I thought it was yours,” I said. “But if you won’t claim it, I’ll have it stored away.”

  She hesitated. “Your Highness, I…” Her voice caught, then shifted. Her eyes betrayed too much, and she quickly lowered her head. “Why do you want to know?”

  Exactly as I’d predicted. She wasn’t prepared to lie, but she also wasn’t ready to tell the truth either. I glanced at the cover again. Meridian Blood Seals. The title was hand-stitched into the coarse cotton binding. She had always shown interest in anything that was a book, and even more so if it were related to seals. Even just mentioning the word would give her pause.

  That would be another key to getting her to unravel.

  Her voice came quieter now. “Please excuse what I just said. I spoke without thinking. If Your Highness wishes to punish me—”

  Servants who asked for punishment always left a bitter taste. It reminded me too much of what I was, and what I would always be: someone without the luxury of trust.

  I can’t afford it.

  The black ink on the memorial had dry, so I folded it aside and placed it next to my brush. She looked at me again.

  “Earlier,” she said, “I promised to help Your Highness with your affairs. In return, may I ask that you not inquire further into my personal matters?”

  Another bargain. She really did love making those.

  “That depends.”

  “Depends on what, Your Highness?”

  I picked up the book on seals and held it out to her, beckoning and daring her to take it from me. A test. If she takes it, she agrees.

  If not…

  She studied me, then took it with both hands. So, she accepts.

  I stepped away from the desk and toward the shelves she had been tending all morning. Behind me, I heard her inhale faintly.

  “Your Highness, I hadn’t imagined that you, the master of the largest intelligence network in Taishan, would allow me to keep secrets. I didn’t realise Minister Gao was so important to you.”

  She tests me, too.

  But I owed her no answer. I reached for a report. The cover indicated an update from Hongchen City.

  In the meantime, Su Tang had made herself perfectly comfortable at my desk, placing her elbows on the lacquered wood, and swirling the brush on the inkstone. Her moods could shift like wind over water.

  “One could almost say,” she continued, “that your relationship with Minister Gao is…unusual.”

  Even as I tried to control them, my thoughts flew to the rude picture books that had been in her book bag.

  She’s probably thinking some horrible thing about me, isn’t she?

  The hiss of a blade shifting in its sheath came from Jiang Feng. He stepped forward.

  “What insolence. How dare you suggest—” He stopped, struggling to find the accusation.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Su Tang tilted her head toward him, eyes wide and guileless. “Suggest what, Jiang Feng?”

  He glowered, but she only smiled faintly and tapped the floor with her toe. She didn’t stop until he looked away.

  That smile remained even as a dagger appeared inches before her throat. She exhaled. Jiang Feng’s blade hovered, deadly and precise.

  Threatening someone usually makes their true colours bloom.

  But I already knew that kind of thing wasn’t her sore point.

  She glanced at me. I flicked my eyes at Jiang Feng, and he lowered the poised dagger. He did tend to overreact.

  Su Tang bowed her head. “Thank you for Your Highness’ mercy in allowing me to keep my secret. Let me tell you how to save Minister Gao.”

  “Out with it already!” Jiang Feng snapped.

  She didn’t look at him. She looked at me.

  Her voice was clear, almost amused. “It’s quite simple, actually.”

  ***

  It was so simple that it was almost baffling that no one had realised it sooner. That I hadn’t realised it sooner. And yet, she had.

  How?

  “The defendant, Minister of War Gao Yuchou, is accused of consorting with Ru Shan of Mingyun Sect to instigate the current Hongchen City disease outbreak. The trial shall commence now. Grand Secretary Zhao, as the prosecutor, please state your case and the associated evidence,” said Chen Yahui.

  “Of course,” Grand Secretary Zhao said, dragging out his vowels like molasses. He raised his imperial tablet and bowed to the Emperor. “Your Majesty, since our last convening, the presented evidence remains unchallenged. Ru Shan admitted to conniving with—”

  “I ask the prosecution to be mindful of their language so as not to presume guilt before judgment,” Chen Yahui interrupted.

  Grand Secretary Zhao’s mouth remained open, caught mid-sentence. He turned to me, but I offered him nothing.

  He exhaled sharply through his nose, then pressed on, “Ru Shan admitted to interacting with Minister Gao Yuchou. This is substantiated by the recovery of the Minister’s personal pendant in Ru Shan’s possession. Furthermore, rumours of enmity between Xuanji Province and Zhouwei Province provide potential motive.”

  He paused, gaze flicking around the chamber before delivering his conclusion. “Based on the evidence, I find Minister Gao Yuchou guilty of orchestrating the epidemic in Hongchen City.”

  Chen Yahui stepped forward, bowed, and gestured toward me. “Thank you, prosecution. You may now make your case, Your Highness Yun Rongxian.”

  “Thank you, Minister Chen” I said. My eyes followed the Grand Secretary as he turned to return to his seat, a self-satisfied smirk just beginning to form at the edges of his mouth. “Grand Secretary, I believe you consider yourself an upright man. Is that true?”

  He paused mid-step. “Of course, Your Highness.”

  “Indeed. Many praise you as a model gentleman.” I nodded once. “As the sages say: ‘An upright man is magnanimous and open-minded.’ So, tell me. Why would such a man give weight to rumours?”

  “I did not!” he snapped, indignant.

  “If accusations can be made solely on hearsay and antagonism, how many innocent men and women would be condemned? Perhaps even the Emperor himself. Shall we believe the rumours about His Majesty’s household are true as well?”

  “I—of course not! I would never—Your Majesty, this servant would never dare speculate on Your Majesty’s affairs.” Zhao Qingshan dropped into a deep bow. But it was too late. He had forgotten the most critical unspoken rule of the court: never mention rumours in the presence of the Emperor.

  His Majesty loathed them more deeply than he valued loyalty. Rumours had shattered our family once, a rot that still spread beneath the lacquered surface of the court and spurred on the Ze Household’s hatred.

  The Emperor said nothing, but his hands were clenched white against his knees, his eyes shut with the force of restraint.

  Even without my remaining arguments, the Grand Secretary had lost the Emperor’s favour. His case was already undone.

  “Your Majesty,” I continued calmly, “although the pendant was indeed found with Ru Shan, its presence is not conclusive evidence of collusion. It may have been planted. It may have been stolen. But above all, there is one incontrovertible reason why the Minister of War, Gao Yuchou, is not the source of the Hongchen City epidemic.”

  The Emperor leaned forward. “What is this reason?”

  I lowered my eyes briefly. The memory of Su Tang’s voice drifted back. Her gaze had held mine without fear or doubt when she said it. A single, quiet question:

  Wasn’t Minister Gao’s qi severely damaged?

  I inclined my head. “Does Your Majesty recall the Hundred-Year War during the Jin Dynasty?” A murmur swept through the hall—equal parts confusion and comprehension. “At that time, Minister Gao Yuchou was a battalion commander. During one of the raids, he and his forces were captured. He was tortured without pause yet never yielded state secrets. His loyalty was unimpeachable.

  “But due to the extent of his injuries, Gao Yuchou lost his ability to manipulate qi. His meridians were shattered. He has been unable to cultivate since.”

  I met the eyes of every member of the court in turn.

  “The Hongchen City epidemic is derived from magic. How can a man who no longer possesses the ability to use qi be its architect?”

  Silence descended. The question spoke for itself.

  After a moment, Chen Yahui rose once more. “Does the prosecution wish to respond?”

  The Grand Secretary glared at her and his face contorted with wounded pride. He shook his head, too humiliated to speak. He looked, for all the world, like a scolded child.

  Chen Yahui turned to the Emperor. “From this servant’s judgment, I find Minister Gao innocent. But I defer to Your Majesty’s wisdom.”

  The Emperor flicked his hand fickly; his reply for her to quickly wrap up the case. Irritated. Dismissive.

  He wanted the case closed, but I knew that wasn’t the full extent of his dissatisfaction. He had wanted Gao Yuchou freed—but he had not wanted Zhao to fail so spectacularly. Not to be so easily cornered. And certainly not by me.

  The Empress pinched her lips together, her favourite expression when displeased. It seems that the Grand Secretary has angered two masters today.

  I did not need to guess at her involvement. The Empress undoubtedly had a hand in the charges against Minister Gao. And it was likely she had also orchestrated the outbreak itself. Her methods had always been cruel, but her mind was sharper than obsidian.

  I had once respected that intellect, even if I loathed the damage it wrought. Somehow, she could convince countless others to follow her, to kill or die for her, without ever lifting a finger in return.

  The perfect puppeteer.

  Everybody was a pawn in her hand.

  Even Su Tang. Why had the Empress assigned that girl to me?

  And more importantly, how did Su Tang know about the Minister of War’s condition?

  ***

  Ze Zhiwei stood before me with his arms crossed, his fingers anxiously picking at the leather arm guards strapped unevenly to his forearms. He was meant to report on the civil unrest in Shuishang and Huoqing Provinces.

  But it was apparent that his mind was preoccupied.

  “Captain, what is it that you have to report?”

  He straightened immediately and saluted. “Your Highness, I report for duty.”

  Yes. I can see that. His sharpness had been the reason I bothered to keep him here. But now it seemed time had blunted his wit. Soldiers under his command would suffer if this continued. He blinked indefinitely, then presented a report with both hands.

  “Here is the report, Your Highness”

  I accepted the document and thumbed through the pages. It was neatly written in his hand, but I questioned how much of it he truly processed. His summary claimed that Shuishang Province appeared to be aligning itself with Zhouwei Province, based on the increasing volume of medical exports sent to the region over the past month. But that correlation was obvious: the epidemic in Zhouwei made it a natural destination for such goods.

  What stood out was the unexpected trade activity between Huoqing and Shuishang: a sudden flurry of transactions, irregular in both timing and nature.

  I cast a glance back at Ze Zhiwei.

  He wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was caught on something across the hall.

  Following the line of his eyes, I found a lacquered folding screen standing off to the side—a vivid painting stretched across its panels. It depicted a scene of the Imperial Autumn Hunt, a standard exhibit for a royal study. But he was focused on one particular section and his eyes wouldn’t waver.

  They were locked on the image of an archer mid-pull, bow drawn taut, the string pressing onto his cheek, the arrow poised with perfect form and deadly precision.

  Ze Zhiwei swallowed once. Then again.

  But still, he didn’t look away.

  That needs to be investigated.