Chapter 28:
Drunk in the Alley

 

THE AUTUMN RAIN in Qudu had fallen without cease since the new emperor’s coronation. White mourning lanterns hung high beneath the old black tiles. Were someone to stand atop the wall overlooking the city, they would have seen a bleak chill shrouding every corner.

After the events of the Autumn Hunt, every member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard had their authority tokens revoked. All those of fifth rank and above, such as Ji Lei and Qiao Tianya, were imprisoned. Together with Hua Siqian and Pan Rugui, they were due to face a joint trial by the Three Judicial Offices.

Xue Xiuzhuo was transferred out of the Office of Scrutiny for Revenue and promoted to Assistant Minister in the Court of Judicial Review. This new position appeared to have less authority than the Chief Supervising Secretary of the Office of Scrutiny for Revenue, but in truth, it gave him an inroad to the central administration of the Three Judicial Offices. Now, he not only had the authority to examine any case reviews, but also the power to participate in the deliberations and rebuttals of proposals from the Ministry of Justice and the Chief Surveillance Bureau.

“Xue Xiuzhuo.” Empress Dowager Hua reclined on her settee, idly tapping a black jade weiqi piece against the board. “I had never heard of this child before the Nanlin Hunting Grounds incident. Who is he to the Xue Clan?”

Fanning the incense burner, Aunt Liuxiang answered, “Your Majesty, he is the third son of common birth in the Xue Clan. This lowly one had also never heard this man’s name and went specifically to inquire about him.”

“It appears the Xue Clan has found a worthy successor,” the empress dowager said. “All these years, Yao Wenyu has been the one garnering renown. I thought that old fox, Hai Liangyi, would eventually recommend the boy into the Grand Secretariat. Who would have expected him to put the unremarkable Xue Xiuzhuo forward instead?”

“This Xue Xiuzhuo first joined forces with the Provincial Administration Commissioner of Juexi, Jiang Qingshan, to secretly gather evidence, then secured the support of Secretariat Elder Hai,” Aunt Liuxiang said. “As the Chief Supervising Secretary of the Office of Scrutiny for Revenue, he had full access to the Six Ministries. Now that he’s been promoted to Assistant Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, he’ll be hearing the case of our Secretariat Elder Hua. I fear he’s made up his mind to see it through; he will not let the matter go easily.”

“I can’t go out at the moment.” The empress dowager looked contemplative. “If Xue Xiuzhuo wishes to investigate, then let him. The Hua Clan is at a critical juncture. Go tell my brother he needs to be ready to cut his losses if we have any hope of staging a comeback.”

Aunt Liuxiang murmured in acknowledgment and quietly withdrew.

 

Shen Zechuan shook rainwater off his umbrella and took a seat on the run-down veranda of the deserted courtyard. Less than an hour later, Xi Hongxuan’s monumental figure appeared beneath an umbrella as he strode through the round arch of the moon gate and approached.

“Spies abound these days. I barely managed to slip away.” Xi Hongxuan gathered up his wet clothes and frowned. “Did you call me here for something urgent?”

“Xi Gu’an is in prison,” Shen Zechuan said. “Your long-cherished wish is about to be realized, yet you’ve made no move to secure your victory. Are you waiting for him to take desperate action and foil your plans?”

“His death warrant is all but signed,” Xi Hongxuan said. “Any further move now would be as redundant as drawing legs on a snake.”

“Nothing in this world is certain.” There was no trace of a smile on Shen Zechuan’s fair face. “The more critical the situation, the less you can afford to be negligent. As long as he lives, there’s a chance he’ll survive this.”

Xi Hongxuan studied his side profile. “The case of the Hua faction has already been handed over to the Three Judicial Offices. Under so many watchful eyes, how do you plan to make your move?”

“I’m not making any moves.” Shen Zechuan glanced over. “Xi Gu’an has been the Hua Clan’s lackey for years; his crimes while in office are too numerous to count. But only if the right ones are handed over to the Court of Judicial Review will his death be etched in stone.”

“Bearing arms before the emperor, surrounding and hunting down the successor to the crown—are these two alone not enough to put him to death?”

“As the Military Commissioner of the Eight Great Battalions, it’s his prerogative to bear arms before the throne. The hunt for the crown prince has nothing to do with him. He could simply claim he headed back to the capital for reinforcements upon seeing things go awry. The new emperor is wary of the Imperial Army. He has taken down the Hua Clan, yes, but this is precisely the time he needs the help and cooperation of the other Eight Great Clans. When it comes to this, he is timid—but the longer it drags on, the harder it will be to guarantee the death of Xi Gu’an.” Shen Zechuan smirked. “And as long as Xi Gu’an lives, you will remain ‘Xi Er,’ second in line, never stepping into the light.”

At length, Xi Hongxuan asked, “What do you plan to do?”

“Xi Gu’an was assigned to the Eight Great Battalions in the fourth year of Xiande. In the four years since, the Eight Great Battalions have received a total of nine million taels in military funds and provisions. Yet only seven million of the disbursement is accounted for. What of the remaining two million taels?” Shen Zechuan asked. “They disappeared after passing through Xi Gu’an’s hands.

“Audits of the account books were always Xue Xiuzhuo’s job,” he continued. “Once he checks, he will very likely uncover even more missing funds. Pan Rugui and Hua Siqian might take such a large sum for themselves—they are greedy and corrupt. But Xi Gu’an cannot afford to be merely greedy or corrupt. He holds the reins of the Eight Great Battalions, whose key task is to patrol and defend Qudu. If he can’t explain where the money went, one must suspect him of embezzling funds to raise and pay his own private army under the aegis of the Eight Great Battalions.”

“His own private army.” A chill ran down Xi Hongxuan’s spine.

“He stands at the bedside of the Son of Heaven. What other reason is there for him to raise such an army?” Shen Zechuan said.

“No way!” Xi Hongxuan vetoed it. He wiped sweat off his face. “Do you think me mad? If it’s only a question of associating with the Hua faction, he’s the one who dies. But if it’s treason, my whole family dies! This is a crime punishable by extermination of the entire clan!”

Shen Zechuan laughed aloud, then lowered his voice. “A change of sovereign brings a change of ministers. This is a precious opportunity for you to distinguish yourself before the new emperor. Xi Gu’an is giving you his life as a congratulatory gift for your promotion.”

“You want me to…” Xi Hongxuan stared at Shen Zechuan and burst out laughing. “You certainly are ruthless. The empress dowager has saved your life twice. You really have no regard for the kindness shown to you.”

“Kindness, huh?” Shen Zechuan picked up his umbrella. “It’s not too late to repay it after the kill. Besides, this is a power game between Xiao and Hua. What does it have to do with me?”

With that, he opened his umbrella, nodded to Xi Hongxuan, and stepped into the rainy night. Xi Hongxuan was left alone on the veranda, watching Shen Zechuan disappear. When he touched his back, he found it drenched in cold sweat.

 

A few days later, the Court of Judicial Review began the serious trials of the Autumn Hunt.

Jiang Xie, the Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, served as the presiding judge, while Hai Liangyi served as the overseeing supervisor and Xue Xiuzhuo as associate judge. This was a major case examined and prosecuted by the Chief Surveillance Bureau, submitted to the Court of Judicial Review with the criminal charges of formation of political factions, embezzlement and corruption, and endangerment of the state.

Of these, the charge of formation of political factions caused some small panic among civil servants in the Six Ministries. All those who had paid visits to the Hua manor, or had received recommendations from Hua Siqian and Pan Rugui, found themselves in a precarious position. Countless officials scrambled to submit memorials criticizing Hua Siqian and Pan Rugui, each hoping to avoid implication with an impassioned statement of loyalty.

Unfortunately, memorials of any kind gave Li Jianheng a headache. He had never been one to sit still for long periods. Even so, he didn’t dare mess about during a time of national mourning. He had seen the way Hai Liangyi confronted Hua Siqian that night, and was, as a consequence, very much afraid of the man.

Secretariat Elder Hai was rigid and inflexible. His neatly trimmed beard always hung properly before the second clasp on the front of his robe, his crown was always perfectly placed, and his hair meticulously combed. During the dog days of summer, he would never let his robe hang open even in his own home, and in the coldest winter months, he would never warm his hands in opposite sleeves when going to court. When he stood, he was a tall pine tree high on the mountain ridge, and when he walked, he was the swift wind blowing through a tranquil valley. He was never sloppy in his work and could listen attentively to details of a case for three days and three nights without showing any sign of weariness.

Li Jianheng spent all his days fooling around; he went weak at the knees at the sight of upright and scholarly ministers like this.

But because of the Hua faction case, Hai Liangyi was constantly seeking him out to report various details. Li Jianheng had found the dragon throne in Mingli Hall so hard that his behind hurt from prolonged sitting, so he ordered several layers of soft padding. When Hai Liangyi saw it, he roundly chastised him, advising him to be steadfast in character.

The heady thrill of having power within his grasp was fleeting as a flake of snow; what had followed was an avalanche of responsibilities. Li Jianheng found it difficult to keep up with the never-ending morning court sessions. He looked down every day from the dragon throne, yet often didn’t understand what the people below him were arguing about.

No money? Collect taxes, then! Kill some corrupt officials—that way the money could be recovered, no? What’s there to argue about?

Li Jianheng didn’t dare reveal these innermost thoughts. He feared Hai Liangyi, and feared even more these civil servants and military commanders. He didn’t understand what they fought over, or why the Hua faction could not be executed immediately, and least of all why the empress dowager was sending him snacks every day. He curled up on the dragon throne as if this was all merely a dream.

“Is His Majesty ill?” Xiao Chiye, on his way to answer a summons, entered the palace and ran straight into an imperial physician outside Mingli Hall.

“His mind is plagued with worry, and the autumn chill has gotten to him,” the physician said. “When you see His Majesty, you must counsel him, my lord.”

Xiao Chiye set Wolfsfang aside before striding into Mingli Hall.

Li Jianheng had just taken some medicine and was staring into space on his settee. On hearing that Xiao Chiye had come, he hurriedly slipped on his shoes and called him in.

“Ce’an,” Li Jianheng said, “you’re just in time. The bakery will be sending some silk-nested tiger’s eye candy later. You should try it too; we had it at that official’s banquet a few years ago.”

Xiao Chiye kowtowed. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for the gift.”

His emperor’s robes draped around him, Li Jianheng went silent for a moment. “Take a seat, Ce’an.”

Xiao Chiye sat, and those serving at the sides of the hall withdrew. Li Jianheng stood and restlessly turned in several tight circles on the spot. “Ce’an, why aren’t they beheading Hua Siqian yet? The Court of Judicial Review is talking about a retrial—what more is there to try? Ugh!”

“The Court of Judicial Review has to triple-check every case,” Xiao Chiye explained patiently. “This is the rule to prevent miscarriage of justice. The evidence against Hua Siqian is conclusive. No doubt he will be executed before the new year.”

“A long night is fraught with dreams—drag something on long enough, and complications arise,” Li Jianheng said nervously. “The empress dowager doesn’t look like she’s panicking to me. Did you know, she sends people to deliver snacks to me every day. What does she want? Does she plan to poison me to death?”

“The Hua Clan is the target of public condemnation, so the empress dowager is putting on a show of maternal affection.” Seeing Li Jianheng’s flustered expression and the dark circles under his eyes, Xiao Chiye asked, “Is Your Majesty not sleeping well?”

“How can I sleep?” said Li Jianheng. “As long as they live, how would I be able to sleep? Ce’an, how about this—why don’t you go tell Hai Liangyi on my behalf to skip the retrial and carry out the execution on the spot!”

But how could he do such a thing? Xiao Chiye was the supreme commander of the Imperial Army. He had no involvement with the Three Judicial Offices, so how could he interfere in the judicial process? Moreover, after what happened at the Autumn Hunt, the person who posed the next greatest danger was Xiao Chiye himself. The civil officials, with Hai Liangyi at the helm, were unwilling to let Xiao Chiye go. Even Xiao Fangxu had gotten wind of this attitude in the past days.

No one was willing to gamble when it came to this matter. Only with Xiao Chiye safe in Qudu could Libei be counted on. The plight of the six prefectures of Zhongbo remained a sore spot. Xiao Jiming could save Qudu once or twice, but could he save Qudu countless times without reservation? Even if he swore he would, who would believe it?

Xiao Chiye ought definitely to avoid any disputes with ministers at this point.

Even as Li Jianheng said it, he knew it wouldn’t work. He became more dispirited by the minute. When the silk-nested tiger’s eye candy finally arrived, he took a few cursory bites but tasted nothing.

After Xiao Chiye left, Li Jianheng lay sprawled across the settee, thinking what a rotten deal it was to be an emperor.

Shuanglu, a eunuch who had served him since he ascended the throne, knelt at his feet and whispered, “Your Majesty, how about this lowly one accompanies you for a stroll outside?”

“Not going,” Li Jianheng replied. “We’re tired.”

The eunuch suddenly seized upon an idea. “Then why not invite Miss Mu Ru to play the pipa?”

Li Jianheng turned over and glanced toward the open doors of the hall. Seeing no one, he asked, hesitant, “Seems inappropriate, no? The nation is officially in mourning. Besides, she’s still in Pan Rugui’s manor. Wouldn’t we be reproached for bringing her into the palace right now?”

Shuanglu giggled. “Your Majesty, you are the emperor. You have the final say within the palace. How would those outside officials know what we in the inner palace are up to? We’ll do it on the sly.”

Li Jianheng instantly felt his spirits soar. He set aside the candy and asked, “Secretariat Elder Hai won’t know?”

“No one will know.” Shuanglu shuffled forward on his knees. “You are our master, not him. When we lowly servants run errands, if Your Majesty doesn’t want someone to know about them, they will certainly never know.”

“Great!” Li Jianheng clapped his hands. “Great! Finally, an opportunity. Go quickly, the sooner the better. Bring Mu Ru in. Since Pan Rugui is about to die, remaining in that compound will only bring her bad luck!”

 

It was raining again when Xiao Chiye left the palace. He was vexed, though he couldn’t say why. The zeal and drive he had before the Autumn Hunt seemed to have dissipated overnight; he didn’t even feel like drawing his blade.

Chen Yang and Zhao Hui had come to pick him up, and Xiao Chiye stepped through the rain and into the carriage. Halfway through the journey, Xiao Chiye abruptly lifted the curtain and said, “Tell my father and brother I won’t be back tonight.”

Without waiting for a response, he jumped out of the carriage and headed for Donglong Street, taking nothing with him.

Zhao Hui got off the carriage behind him. “He’s gone drinking again,” he told Chen Yang. “You head back and inform the prince and heir. I’ll follow him. It won’t look good if he gets drunk and makes a scene during a time of national mourning.”

“In the time it took you to say that, you lost him,” Chen Yang said. “His Excellency doesn’t want anyone to follow; you had best let him be.”

Xiao Jiming had mentored Zhao Hui as his deputy general, while Xiao Chiye had trained Chen Yang to be his. Perhaps it was no surprise that Zhao Hui was more like an older brother. Though both were members of the Xiao Clan, the subjects of their consideration were ultimately different. Zhao Hui turned, and sure enough, the rain had already washed away any sign of Xiao Chiye.

 

The Embroidered Uniform Guard, having had their authority tokens revoked, were all temporarily assigned to the Imperial Army to serve on patrols. Shen Zechuan had just finished his rounds for the night and was walking home through the alley behind Xiangyun Villa on Donglong Street. The rain was coming down in a light drizzle, and he hadn’t bothered to open his umbrella.

From up ahead, he suddenly heard the sound of retching. A courtesan wearing wooden clogs and no socks trotted out in pursuit and was gently fended off by the man bent over in the alley.

Xiao Chiye propped himself against the wall and pointed at the back door, motioning for the woman to stay back. The courtesans of Xiangyun Villa were well-acquainted with his habits. She knew he wouldn’t let others touch him while drunk, so she merely folded a handkerchief and laid it at the side. “Come back in once you feel better, Er-gongzi. I’ll prepare some hot soup for you,” she said quietly.

Xiao Chiye did not respond. When the sound of wooden clogs had receded into the distance, he squatted down. His stomach was churning unbearably. This was how a man should live—eat, drink, and make merry until you fell into a stupor. It was his only way out.

He felt a sudden weight on his back.

Xiao Chiye looked over his shoulder with a stare so cold it froze the blood. On seeing who had touched him, he thought for a moment before saying, “Why did you kick me?”

“I didn’t,” Shen Zechuan replied without blinking.

Xiao Chiye reached behind and touched his own back, then tugged on his clothes. He insisted stubbornly, “This is evidence of your guilt!”

Shen Zechuan studied him. “Have you drunk yourself foolish, Xiao Er?”

“Do I look like a fool?” Xiao Chiye demanded. He answered himself without waiting for a reply. “I’m not a fool.”

Smelling the wine on him, Shen Zechuan said, “Don’t block my way. I want to go home.”

Xiao Chiye looked away and stared blankly for a moment before saying to the wall, “Don’t block my way. I want to go home too.”

Shen Zechuan was about to laugh when he heard him continue.

“If I can’t go home, then you can forget about going home as well.”