Chapter 29:
Fate

 

“AH,” SHEN ZECHUAN SAID.

That wasn’t the response Xiao Chiye wanted; he looked back at him and asked, “Why aren’t you arguing?”

Shen Zechuan opened his umbrella. “I have neither family nor friends back there. Why would I want to return?”

Xiao Chiye picked up the handkerchief and wiped rain off the back of his neck before rising. “Right. They already got rid of the Prince of Jianxing’s manor in Dunzhou. Being who you are, you’ll be cursed by the whole prefecture if you go back.”

“In this life,”—here, Shen Zechuan looked at Xiao Chiye quietly for a moment—“you will suffer for being born into the wrong family.”

Xiao Chiye didn’t look at him as he brushed away raindrops on his forehead. “Then why are you still alive?”

Shen Zechuan smiled. “Millions of people want me dead, but how could I rest easy if I bowed to the wishes of others?”

“If you want to survive, you should’ve remained in the Temple of Guilt.”

Taking two steps to avoid the puddle on the ground, Shen Zechuan answered, “If I remained there, you would still try to see me executed. Xiao Chiye, even if you try to hide it, you are used to looking down from above. You are no different from the people who look down on you today, though all those eyes must agonize you.”

He laughed and patted Xiao Chiye on the back. “I seek to live. You seek to die. The Xiao Clan once trapped me, and now the Li family does the same to you. Are not the ways of this world strange? The bird in the cage longs for its former woods, while the fish in the pond misses its familiar deep.22 Your lot in life has been laid out from the beginning. If you can’t go home, you are nothing but a husk, with nothing but hollow aspirations. The most devastating thing in the world is to train a wolf into a dog. How long can your fangs remain sharp in Qudu?”

Xiao Chiye turned to look at him. “You followed me during the Autumn Hunt and saved my life, what, all for this moment of gratification?”

“I am an insignificant nobody,” Shen Zechuan said softly. “Even if I didn’t show up, you would have survived.”

“What are you up to?” Xiao Chiye’s inebriation had worn off.

“Repaying a debt of gratitude.” They stood so close that the brim of Shen Zechuan’s umbrella sheltered Xiao Chiye. “Repaying all of you for your mercy in not killing me.”

Xiao Chiye suddenly grabbed Shen Zechuan by the collar. “I thought you had repented and turned over a new leaf.”

“What have I done wrong?” The glint in Shen Zechuan’s eyes was chillier than the autumn rain. He closed in, almost pressing up against Xiao Chiye, and asked, “What is my crime?”

“Did you not spare a look at the cities of Duanzhou when you climbed your way out of the Chashi Sinkhole?” Xiao Chiye tightened his grip. “The eight cities were massacred. When our horses galloped through the city gates, the blood that splashed under their hooves was the blood of the people.”

“Shen Wei’s troops were defeated.” Shen Zechuan at last tore off his mask, exposing his burning hatred. “Thirty thousand men of Zhongbo were buried in the Chashi Sinkhole! I lost my elder brother and shiniang that same day! Why am I to blame?”

“Shen Wei deserved to be killed!” Xiao Chiye, too, had lost control; he shoved Shen Zechuan backward. “Shen Wei deserved death! You are a Shen! How can you be without blame?!”

The oil-paper umbrella tumbled to the ground as Shen Zechuan was slammed against the wall in Xiao Chiye’s grip, his toes barely touching the ground. He drew his knee in and stomped on Xiao Chiye’s chest. Xiao Chiye retreated a few steps in pain but didn’t loosen his hold. Pulling Shen Zechuan by the collar, he flung him to the ground.

The drizzle quickly intensified into a downpour. A series of crashes rang out from the dark lane as odds and ends were overturned and trampled underfoot. Inside Xiangyun Villa, the commotion startled the courtesans who had been waiting for Xiao Chiye. They clung to the doorframe and peered out with their wooden clogs in their hands.

“What’s all this?!” Xiangyun, the madam of the house, hastily draped a robe over her shoulders and slipped on her wooden clogs before rushing over. “My dear lords! Let’s have a civilized discussion! This isn’t worth coming to blows over!”

Shen Zechuan straddled Xiao Chiye and landed a punch that knocked his head to the side. Xiao Chiye grabbed Shen Zechuan’s wrist and tugged him hard toward himself. Running his tongue over bloody teeth, he said, “Neither you nor I can dream of having an easy time!”

Xiangyun had already called for her attendants, who joined forces to drag the two apart. Xiao Chiye jerked his arms free, and those strapping footmen felt their hands go numb. Yet he did not pounce again. He wiped his fingers over the broken skin on his face and snapped, “Piss off.”

Xiangyun saw things had gotten out of hand; with quick motions, she instructed the footmen to hurry to the prince’s manor for help. But before they could move, Xiao Chiye said, “I’ll break the legs of whoever dares to alert my father!”

Xiangyun followed his lead and softened her voice. “What’s this about, then? Er-gongzi has always shown tenderness toward the fairer sex. Why have you frightened the ladies tonight? It is common for gentlemen to disagree after a few drinks. Let’s bury the hatchet with a smile, all right?”

Xiao Chiye rose to his feet, stripped off his dirty outer robe, and threw it to Xiangyun. “You go in.”

Clutching the robe, Xiangyun attempted again to persuade him, “Er-gongzi, it’s so cold outside…” But her voice trailed off as her courage waned. She waved her hand discreetly at the courtesans and led them back inside. The door was left slightly ajar, and girls clung to its side and crowded at the windows to steal a peek.

Shen Zechuan picked up the umbrella. His clothes were filthy. Strands of dark hair, wet from the rain, stuck to his cheeks and made his fair skin look all the paler.

“Next time,” Shen Zechuan said, “come to my door if you’re looking for me. I won’t pass through this alley again, even in eight hundred years.”

“If I knew you’d be passing by,” Xiao Chiye retorted, “I’d rather have puked inside than come out here.”

Shen Zechuan smirked. “It must really be a small world for enemies to meet on such a narrow path.”

“When two meet on a narrow path, the best man triumphs.” Xiao Chiye took a step up to him. “I’ll be watching you closely from now on.”

“You can hardly look after yourself, yet you still find time to worry about me?” Shen Zechuan raised his umbrella to put some distance between them. “An insect with a hundred legs won’t fall even in death. One Autumn Hunt and you think you’ve brought the Hua Clan to their knees? You really are delusional.”

“You had best think about preserving your own life.” Xiao Chiye pressed his chest against the edge of the umbrella and looked skeptically at him. “How long can you live without the backing of the empress dowager?”

“A new master sits in the imperial court,” Shen Zechuan said. “Isn’t it time to change these old assumptions of who holds the power?”

“But you can’t kill anyone,” Xiao Chiye said. “The ones who’ve wronged you are the Biansha Horsemen and Shen Wei.”

“Whatever you say.” Shen Zechuan once again let the veneer of docility settle over him like a coat. He drew his umbrella back and said gently to Xiao Chiye, “I’ll listen to you, okay?”

That inscrutable rage within Xiao Chiye surged. “Sure you will. Then you’re staying with me tonight.”

“You sleep under the bed canopy of a sweet, tender lady,” Shen Zechuan said, “yet you want to share it with another man? I’m sorry, but I don’t have that kind of predilection.”

No matter how Xiao Chiye looked at Shen Zechuan, this man was up to no good. “So you’re running now? What happened to whatever I say?!”

“Are you,” Shen Zechuan pointed at his head, “out of your mind?”

“All the idlers in the Embroidered Uniform Guard are under command of the Imperial Army,” Xiao Chiye reminded him. “Who’s the one out of his mind?”

Shen Zechuan paused for a moment before responding. “What would Your Excellency like me to do?”

The red imprint of Shen Zechuan’s fist was still stark on Xiao Chiye’s cheek. The hostility between his brows eased, and he took on the countenance of a lazy slacker. He turned to sit on the platform beneath the eaves and pointed to his boots.

The corners of Shen Zechuan’s lips curled. “Sure.”

 

Early the next morning, when Chen Yang came to retrieve Xiao Chiye, he was stunned to see Shen Zechuan hugging Wolfsfang at the entrance of Xiangyun Villa on Donglong Street.

Shen Zechuan, who had been leaning against the door, straightened and bowed a greeting toward Chen Yang.

Chen Yang instantly had a bad feeling. “Shen—what is the Scarlet Cavalry doing here?”

“Ji Lei remains in prison and has not yet been sentenced,” Shen Zechuan said. “The Embroidered Uniform Guard is temporarily serving as part of the Imperial Army under the supreme commander’s orders.”

Taking in his calm mien, Chen Yang felt a chill down his spine. He dipped his chin in a slight nod and bounded up the stairs. Shen Zechuan watched him go up. At the same time, Xiangyun was coming down with the hem of her skirt in her hand.

“You haven’t eaten yet, right?” she asked sympathetically. “You haven’t changed out of those dirty clothes of yours either. Ling Ting—”

A woman upstairs leaned against the railing and said wearily, “Why are you still calling for Ling Ting? That girl’s already paid her debt and been redeemed.”

It dawned on Xiangyun as she spoke. “Well, I’ve gotten used to calling for her! Bring some food for this gentleman from the Scarlet Cavalry.”

Upstairs, Xiao Chiye was sprawled on the settee, sleeping, with no one to attend him. Chen Yang entered and called softly, “My lord?”

Xiao Chiye groggily buried his face in the blanket and dozed a moment longer. Then he suddenly sat up. “Why are you here? Where is Shen Lanzhou?”

“He’s keeping watch downstairs—Your Excellency, what happened to your face?” Chen Yang asked in astonishment.

“Got punched while I was hunting.” Xiao Chiye stood and stretched his shoulders and arms. “Did Dage ask you to come for me?”

“It was His Lordship the Prince,” Chen Yang clarified. “We received information early this morning. Biansha Horsemen raided the Shaqiu Trade Market last night. We need to enter the palace to discuss this matter in detail. Secretariat Elder Hai has convened the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Revenue. Libei will have to deploy troops again.”

Xiao Chiye gave his face a cursory wipe with some water and stepped out the door. As he descended the stairs, he saw Shen Zechuan standing with a courtesan. He strode down the last few steps and reached over them to grab a small plate, then tossed a pastry into his mouth.

Shen Zechuan looked up. “Slow down. No one can save you if you choke.”

Xiao Chiye swallowed the mouthful and grinned at him. Slinging an arm around his shoulder, he led him outside. “Oh, Lanzhou…”

Shen Zechuan stared at him.

“Why do you hold a grudge overnight?” Xiao Chiye asked wistfully. “After a good night’s sleep, I’ve forgotten all about it. Come on. Er-gongzi will take you to have some fun.”

Shen Zechuan swatted Xiao Chiye’s hand away with his own scabbard. “Er-gongzi, don’t take advantage to touch the back of my neck.”

 

Mingli Hall was full.

Li Jianheng remained seated on the dragon throne, not daring to move a muscle. His eyes landed first on Hai Liangyi in an attempt to scrutinize his expression before shifting to the others, all the while doing his best to look dignified and imposing.

“Seeing as the Director of Writ at the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs’s position is vacant, before signing off on them, this aged subject will present the various ministries’ accounts directly to His Majesty once they are sent to the Grand Secretariat,” Hai Liangyi began. “What does Your Majesty think of the accounts from last night?”

Li Jianheng had spent the night listening to pipa music with a beautiful woman in his arms. When Hai Liangyi kowtowed to him, he shifted his buttocks guiltily and said, “They look good, it’s all good!”

Xue Xiuzhuo, who had been kneeling expressionlessly behind Hai Liangyi, furrowed his brow.

Hai Liangyi waited, but when it was clear Li Jianheng had no intention of saying anything further, he turned to Xiao Fangxu. “This autumn is cold, and the frost comes apace. If Libei is to deploy troops, they must report to Qudu the military salaries and provisions required in advance. Your Lordship, how much do you need this time?”

Xiao Fangxu smiled. “I have been ill and out of commission for quite a while. All military affairs have long since been entrusted to Jiming. Jiming, tell Secretariat Elder Hai what money we lack.”

Xiao Jiming kowtowed. “The Biansha tribes raided the market now because winter snow is about to fall. The various tribes have exhausted their stores of grain, so they plunder the trade market. In prior years, the military fields were sufficient to furnish our provisions, and Libei would not need assistance with army supplies. But with the late emperor so recently passed, the Biansha tribes are likely planning to take advantage of our vulnerability. If we mobilize troops, we must not only expel them from our territory but be prepared to guard the border for as long as it takes. I have already submitted the required sum to the Ministry of Revenue.”

The newly appointed Minister of Revenue produced the memorial, and Shuanglu presented it to Li Jianheng.

Li Jianheng looked at it for a moment. “One million two hundred thousand taels. What’s so hard about that? What’s important is that our soldiers don’t go cold and hungry.”

The Minister of Revenue, Qian Jin, looked embarrassed. “Your Majesty may not be aware, but…we have yet to make up for last year’s deficit. The state treasury cannot make that sum available on such short notice.”

“Then,” Li Jianheng said, “just one million taels should be fine, right?”

Qian Jin kowtowed. “During the Autumn Hunt, the mobilization of the Eight Great Battalions cost us two hundred and thirty thousand taels, and the late emperor’s funeral rites…required five hundred and forty thousand taels. The remaining funds in the state treasury must be used to pay out salary arrears to the officials in Qudu. The end of the year will soon be upon us, and the civil officials all need to celebrate New Year’s. We definitely do not have one million taels, Your Majesty. We have but six hundred thousand taels to give the Libei Armored Cavalry.”

Li Jianheng truly never expected to be poor as an emperor. He had wanted to do Libei a favor, and in doing so placate Xiao Chiye. Who would have thought he would be so broke? This sudden revelation put him in such an awkward spot he wanted to dig his way under the table. Instead, he mustered a few vague sounds of acknowledgment.

A hush fell over Mingli Hall.

It was Xue Xiuzhuo who spoke up. “Your Majesty, this humble subject has a suggestion.”

Li Jianheng looked at this man as though he was seeing his savior. “Speak. Please speak.”

“When the Hua faction was in power, they put a price on sinecures and welcomed anyone who could pay up,” Xue Xiuzhuo began. “The ‘ice respects’ bribes they collected every year were large sums. And Pan Rugui took advantage of loopholes in procurement to blatantly amass wealth for himself. Both men are now in prison. Why not search both the Hua and Pan residences and confiscate their possessions to subsidize this military effort? As for the Xi Clan, their second young master, Xi Hongxuan, has already made what amends he could and submitted a report to the Court of Judicial Review just yesterday to accuse Xi Gu’an of keeping his own private army. He even leased out the Xi Clan’s residence in Qudu to repay the money that went missing within the Eight Great Battalions while Xi Gu’an was in office.”

When Li Jianheng heard this idea of raiding the residences, he instantly showed interest. He said, eager, “Sure! I—we’ve long been wanting to do this!”

Hai Liangyi hesitated. “This would be inappropriate. The Court of Judicial Review’s retrial has not yet concluded. How can we bypass the law to mete out the sentence?”

“It’s an emergency,” Xue Xiuzhuo countered. “We don’t have a choice. Qudu may wait for the retrial, but the Biansha Horsemen will not. We cannot let the Libei Armored Cavalry fight a war on empty stomachs.”

Hai Liangyi still wavered, but Li Jianheng had already given his approval. When they finally left the hall, Xiao Jiming asked Qi Zhuyin, who had been silent the whole time, “How is the Bianjun Commandery holding up?”

Qi Zhuyin looked up at the rain beyond the eaves. “As long as Lu Guangbai is in Bianjun, the Biansha tribes will not make a move there. But Libei is lacking a chief commander, which makes things tricky for you.”

Xiao Jiming stood for a moment and sighed. “Talent on the field is hard to come by.”

“Regardless of what passes in Qudu, it’s the duty of commanders and generals to protect their home and defend their country,” Qi Zhuyin said. “Jiming, talent is hard to come by, but it is even more difficult to cultivate. Libei is an important fortress guarding our Great Zhou’s frontier—it needs a successor. It will only damage you to hold off on your choice any longer.”

Each and every one of them had aspired to be a valiant general of the land, an impregnable fortress of the Zhou empire. But even generals would eventually age. Tethering the lives of an army to one man could be overlooked for a few years, but let it continue for a decade, or worse, several, and the Libei Armored Cavalry would turn into a force that could not go on without Xiao Jiming.

If the Libei Armored Cavalry were to lose Xiao Jiming one day with no clear successor to the command, what would become of this army and its sterling reputation that had reigned supreme on the battlefield for decades?

“I know you have high hopes for A-Ye.” Qi Zhuyin descended the steps and turned back to look at him. “But he is destined never to fly out of Qudu. Do you think he hasn’t noticed the regard you hold for him all these years just because you never spoke of it? The more expectations you have for him at home, the more agony he’ll be in. Libei is not his wings, but his cage. Jiming, you and I have been friends for many years. Let me give you a word of advice: choose someone else.”