Chapter 12:
Duanwu Festival

 

FIVE YEARS PASSED in the blink of an eye. It was mid-summer in the eighth year of Xiande.

The round-collared robe of the Secretary of the Ministry of Revenue, Wang Xian, was drenched in sweat. He sat as if his chair was lined with pins and needles. Not for the first time, he lifted his black gauze official’s cap to wipe his brow.

“Lord Xiao,” Wang Xian hemmed and hawed, “i-it’s not that the Ministry of Revenue doesn’t wish to disburse the funds. But at the moment, the current expenditure of the treasury has yet to be tallied. Without Pan-gonggong’s authorization, there’s really no way we can release the sum!”

“It takes time to tally the accounts, certainly.” Xiao Chiye sipped his tea. “I’m waiting, aren’t I? Take your time.”

Wang Xian’s throat bobbed. He glanced at Xiao Chiye, as composed as ever, and then at the Imperial Army soldiers standing stock-still on the veranda outside.

“Your Excellency,” Wang Xian said, nearly begging. “The day is hot, and I feel terrible keeping the soldiers waiting outside. Let me treat everyone to some cold drinks. We have ice—”

“The Imperial Army has done nothing to deserve your consideration.” Xiao Chiye showed him a shallow smile. “We’re sturdy men used to manual labor; what’s a few hours of standing? Pay us no mind, Your Excellency. Focus on your accounting.”

Gripping his account book, Wang Xian held his brush over the page for a long interval. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to lower it.

The emperor had fallen seriously ill in early spring of that year. In response, the empress dowager ordered a temple built in the palace where she could recite Buddhist scriptures and gather blessings for His Majesty. The Ministry of Works needed to ship large quantities of lumber from Duanzhou for construction, and to save money, they had called upon the Imperial Army to transport it. Not long after, Secretariat Elder Hai came out in opposition to the project; in the face of his disapproval, the empress dowager withdrew her plan. By then, however, the lumber was already in the capital.

The hole from this abandoned endeavor had never been filled in the Ministry of Works’s budget. And thus, for two months, they had dragged the matter out, delaying payment to the Imperial Army.

Money was tight everywhere. Had the state treasury been full, there would have been no issue. Who would be willing to cross Second Young Master Xiao over such a small sum? But the Ministry of Revenue was destitute. Last year, for the empress dowager’s birthday, they had lavished close to a million taels of silver on the banquet and pecuniary rewards alone.

Wang Xian set aside his brush and decided to stick his neck out. “Your Excellency, there’s no way to settle the payment right now. I’ll be honest: looking at the current accounts, the expenses tallied so far this year are well over the budgeted amount. Our own salaries are up in the air. We really have no money to give you. Even if you stab me, Wang Minshen, for saying so, there’s nothing I can do!”

“So. The provisions of the Eight Great Battalions are distributed as usual without delay, but when it comes to the Imperial Army, you’re flat broke. We all serve the emperor here, but it seems Xiao Ce’an is the only bastard doomed to hold this debt and wait for the treasury to fill itself.” Xiao Chiye tossed the teacup onto the table with a clatter. “Every year the Ministry of Revenue cries poverty, but how is that my problem? We do the work, and you pay the money. It’s right there in black and white. The work is done, so payment must be made. As for anything else, I don’t want to hear it; it’s not my responsibility. If everyone has to forgive the problems of the Ministry of Revenue, what’s left for you to do? Best vacate the position and let someone else take over.”

Wang Xian sprang to his feet, livid. “If we’re all serving the emperor, why is Your Excellency intent on pushing me into a corner? Who would be unwilling to settle the account if we had the money? If the Imperial Army is so capable, why bother with manual labor? Go do what the Eight Great Battalions do! Let’s see who is so bold as to withhold your money then!”

Just as the atmosphere threatened to tip into violence, another voice rang out. “There’s no need for anger, Lord Wang. The second young master is simply a forthright man who speaks his mind.” The newcomer took off his wide-brimmed hat and wiped his hands with a handkerchief. “This humble one is the Chief Supervising Secretary from the Office of Scrutiny for Revenue, Xue Xiuzhuo. I’m here regarding this very account.”

The Chief Supervising Secretary of the Office of Scrutiny for Revenue was merely a seventh-rank position, technically not even considered a court official in Qudu. However, it was a unique post; not only did the officeholder supervise the works-in-progress of the Ministry of Revenue, he also participated in the reviews and appraisals of officials that took place every six years. On top of that, he could bypass any of the Six Ministries to appeal directly to the emperor himself.

This was a person Wang Xian could not afford to offend; he swallowed his pride. “How could I be angry? The Imperial Army has contributed so much; I don’t want Lord Xiao to have worked for nothing. But Yanqing, just look at this account. We simply don’t have the funds.”

Xue Xiuzhuo, courtesy name Yanqing, had a scholarly and refined bearing. He spoke without even looking at the accounts. “I’m aware of the difficulties faced by the Ministry of Revenue. How about this, Er-gongzi: the city of Quancheng shipped us a batch of silk recently. We’ll settle your account with an equivalent value in silk. Would that be acceptable?”

It seemed it was. The instant Xiao Chiye was gone, Wang Xian’s expression turned cold. “He’s not demanding payment for the Imperial Army,” he told Xue Xiuzhuo. “More likely he’s squandering it himself. Ever since this second young master took up the reins of the Imperial Army, he’s been leading a life of drunken debauchery. Yet he pushes us to our limit every time, unwilling to show a shred of empathy!”

Xue Xiuzhuo smiled and said nothing.

 

Xiao Chiye left the Ministry of Revenue’s office and rode toward Donglong Street. He was much taller now than five years ago, his youthful drive and vigor somewhat faded.

Prince Chu had been waiting for him all morning. As soon as he spied Xiao Chiye, the prince started badgering him. “Where the hell have you been? I nearly died of boredom!”

“Fooling around.” Xiao Chiye sat and gulped down a cold drink. On seeing the basin of ice set nearby to cool the room, he sighed and stretched out on the settee. “This is so comfortable. My head is spinning from the heat outside. I’m going to take a nap.”

“You can’t!” Li Jianheng waved his bamboo fan vigorously, the front of his robe wide open in the heat. He sighed. “At least let me finish talking before you sleep!”

Who knew what mischief Xiao Chiye had been up to all night, but he was obviously flagging. He hummed absentmindedly.

Li Jianheng sipped some chilled wine out of a cup held in a courtesan’s slender hand. “Do you remember that girl I told you about? The one I was keeping in my villa five years ago? I was preparing to take her as my own, until that son of a bitch Xiaofuzi took her and offered her to the castrated bastard Pan Rugui!”

Xiao Chiye murmured acknowledgment.

“Well,” Li Jianheng continued, more animated by the second. “I recently left the capital to escape the summer heat and saw her near the villa! The girl’s kept herself so smooth and tender, even lovelier than five years ago. My heart was pounding just looking at her. How I hate those eunuchs! That thieving son of a bitch came out of nowhere and broke up a blossoming romance! He thinks that’s the end of it? No way!”

Xiao Chiye yawned.

“Are we brothers or not?” Li Jianheng fumed. “Help me think of a way to get back at him! Maybe we can’t touch Pan Rugui, but that Xiaofuzi needs a good thrashing!”

Xiao Chiye was truly exhausted. “What do you want to do? Have him dragged out of the palace?”

Li Jianheng pushed aside the courtesan waiting on him and snapped his fan shut. “The Duanwu Festival is around the corner. His Majesty will be at the West Gardens to watch the dragon boat race; Pan Rugui will doubtless be there too. Where he goes, Xiaofuzi follows. We can lure him out during the horse race and beat him to death!”

Xiao Chiye seemed to have dropped off.

“Ce’an, did you hear me?”

“Bad idea to beat him to death,” Xiao Chiye said without opening his eyes. “If you make an enemy of Pan Rugui over this, you’ll be in for a world of trouble.”

“But we can at least give him a beating, right?” Li Jianheng whined. “If I don’t vent my anger, I won’t even be able to eat. What’s up with you lately? You always look half asleep. What are you getting up to at night? And why did you send away the virgin I picked for you last time?”

Xiao Chiye acknowledged Li Jianheng’s words with a wave of his hand. There was no ring on his thumb, but the bite between his thumb and forefinger had left its mark.

When Li Jianheng started in on something else, Xiao Chiye turned a deaf ear to it all.

 

A few days later, on the occasion of Duanwu, the long-absent Xiande Emperor dragged his sickly bones to the West Gardens. The imperial ladies accompanying him donned gauzy robes of sheer silk, while Ji Lei and the commander in chief of the Eight Great Battalions, Xi Gu’an, jointly escorted the emperor. As the Imperial Army had nothing but spare time, they invited Xiao Chiye along as well.

Xiao Chiye was last to arrive. In keeping with custom, the Xiande Emperor had already hung up the willow branch to ward against evil and was waiting for the horse race to begin. The Court of Imperial Entertainments, as part of the entourage, served sticky rice dumplings and pastries at each seat. From his spot in the princes’ seats, Li Jianheng waved Xiao Chiye over.

Xiao Chiye tossed his riding crop to his right-hand man Chen Yang, who followed a few steps behind him. He loosened his arm guards as he took his seat.

“What took you so long? The anxiety is killing me!” Li Jianheng complained, clutching the bamboo fan he favored.

“You’re anxious every day,” Xiao Chiye shot back. “You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m just used to saying it!” Li Jianheng responded, fanning himself. “Look, see that? Xiaofuzi is serving over there.”

Xiao Chiye followed his gaze and saw Xiaofuzi beaming as he spoke into Pan Rugui’s ear. “Hang back later,” he said. “We’ll get someone to give him that beating.”

 

Xiaofuzi stepped onto the edge of the latrine pit an hour later, ready to relieve himself. Without warning, his vision went black—someone had thrown a sack over his head.

“Hey!” Xiaofuzi shrieked but was quickly knocked down with a blow to the neck. Li Jianheng wasted no time; he lifted his robe and started kicking him. Xiaofuzi, gagged by the sack, groaned in pain as he writhed on the ground.

The race nearby was nearing its midpoint; no one heard a thing.

After beating Xiaofuzi for the better part of an hour, Chen Yang stopped Li Jianheng, who still hadn’t had his fill. Chen Yang shot a glance at the prince’s manor guards behind them, and they hurriedly darted off with the sack.

“Your Highness,” he said, “he would have died if you continued. Perhaps next time.”

Li Jianheng straightened his robe and glanced at Chen Yang. “Where are they dumping him?”

“The supreme commander ordered us to dump him in the woods by the lake. Once the banquet begins, the serving eunuchs will pass that way and he will be freed.”

Li Jianheng spat on the ground where Xiaofuzi had suffered and finally returned to his seat.

 

By the start of the banquet, Li Jianheng had forgotten all about the little eunuch. Xiao Chiye kept an eye out, looking over occasionally at Pan Rugui, but saw no sign of Xiaofuzi.

“He was probably humiliated and ran back to change his clothes,” Li Jianheng said between bites. “Eunuchs who serve before the emperor have a terrible fear of appearing dirty and being disdained by the masters. Do you want to come to my villa in a few days for some fun? You can see that little lady I was talking about too.”

“I’m busy,” Xiao Chiye said, sipping his cold tea.

Li Jianheng snickered. “Still putting on an act, even in front of me? You, busy? The Imperial Army is on the verge of dissolution. What could possibly keep you busy in such an idle position?”

Xiao Chiye laughed in return. “Busy drinking.” His eyes were fixed on the tea in his hand; his side profile revealed the flippant quirk of his mouth. “The internal reviews are starting in autumn. I have to buy a few rounds if I want to hold onto this idle position.”

“Being human—” Li Jianheng tapped the table with his chopsticks “—is about living in luxury and shunning productivity. The constant fighting, the so-called Pan faction, the Hua Clan—aren’t they tired? Where’s the pleasure in that?”

“Yeah.” Xiao Chiye’s grin grew wicked. “Isn’t that just asking for a hard time? Having fun is life’s greatest satisfaction.”

Li Jianheng matched his sly expression. “So what’s the deal with this review? Who would dare deny my dear brother his post? You were personally appointed by His Majesty; we loaf on imperial orders. How about this? I’ll host a flower-viewing feast at my residence before autumn, and we invite them all.”

“There’s no hurry.” Xiao Chiye cast his eyes over the West Gardens and spotted a familiar roof behind the cascade of overlapping eaves. He frowned. “This place is rather close to the Temple of Guilt.”

“Still thinking about it, huh? It’s been ages since you lost that thumb ring.”

Xiao Chiye rubbed his thumb out of habit.

“That Shen Clan remnant has been locked up for five years; there’s been no news of him all this time. His Majesty never even inquired whether the boy died or went insane,” Li Jianheng said. “If I were locked in there, forget five years; I’d have cracked in a week.”

The scar on Xiao Chiye’s hand ached. He’d no desire to bring up that person.

The sound of drums rose by the lakeside. Li Jianheng tossed down his chopsticks and jumped to his feet. “Let’s go! The dragon boat race is starting. They’re definitely taking bets!”

Xiao Chiye made to rise when he saw Ji Lei hurry through the crowd and lean over to whisper in Pan Rugui’s ear. Pan Rugui whipped his head around to stare at him. An instant later, he banged heavily on his table.

Xiao Chiye shot a swift glance at Chen Yang.

“My lord—” Chen Yang began, stunned.

“Your Majesty!” Ji Lei was already kneeling before the emperor, his voice carrying. “I’m afraid the dragon boat race cannot go on. Just now, when this humble one was patrolling the grounds with the Embroidered Uniform Guard, we fished Xiaofuzi—a eunuch of the imperial palace—from the water!”

The Xiande Emperor coughed violently; Pan Rugui stepped forward to stroke his back. When the coughing subsided, the emperor managed, “What was he doing in the water?”

Ji Lei raised his head. It wasn’t clear if he looked to the emperor or the empress dowager. “He drowned,” he answered, voice heavy.

A commotion broke out among the palace ladies, who covered their gasps with silk handkerchiefs.

Li Jianheng had knocked over the teacup on his table. In a panic, he picked it up and looked at Xiao Chiye. “I swear I didn’t mean it…”