Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Xu Yunqi’s medicinal cake used eighteen ingredients in total—poria, Chinese yam, and gorgon fruit among them. Knowing that Pei Muheng spent much of his time in deep thought over court affairs, she added sour jujube seeds and lily to aid sleep, along with lotus seeds and hawthorn to balance the flavor. After two hours of slow simmering, the medicinal cake turned out as fine as rouge powder. She finished it by scattering plum blossom-shaped dices on top—dots of crimson against the pale cake, quite artistic—a delicacy that pleased the eye, nose, and palate alike.

The medicinal cake was delivered by an inner eunuch to Huang Wei. Huang Wei had been cleansed in his early years and could move freely within the inner palace; he accompanied Pei Muheng into the palace daily.

It was midday. The snow on the eaves had not yet melted, and the golden, resplendent halls gleamed with a blade-like silver light beneath the sun.

The head eunuch of the imperial kitchen had asked several times already—still, no meal had been ordered from Wenzhao Hall.

The sounding of the Dengwen Drum had shaken the entire administrative quarter. The drum was jointly managed by the Censorate and the Imperial Guard; the Guard answered directly to the Emperor. The Censorate wanted to suppress the matter but could not, especially since it involved the Tongzhou granary case and Prefect Chen Mingshan. When the Minister of War heard the news, he stormed into the Emperor’s presence in a fury. In the end, the Emperor summoned the Grand Secretariat and the chief officials of the Six Ministries to Wenzhao Hall for deliberations.

In the center of the hall, the Crown Prince, in his bright yellow heir-apparent robes, stood bowed before the coiled-dragon throne, speaking slowly to the Emperor:

“Father, the laws of Great Jin state that lawsuits cannot be escalated beyond one’s level. To bypass a level warrants fifty strokes of the cane. If such conduct is not restrained, the judicial system may descend into chaos. This case should be referred to the provincial surveillance commission for trial.”

All military and civilian litigation must be submitted from the bottom up—county, prefecture, surveillance commission, and then the two capitals and directly-administered prefectures. The Tongzhou grain merchant’s case clearly overstepped these bounds. In truth, nine out of ten who struck the Dengwen Drum had committed such procedural violations; it was entirely up to the court how to handle them.

The Emperor, over sixty, his hair thinning but eyes still keen, leaned back against his bright yellow cushion. He cast an indifferent glance at the Crown Prince, then shifted his gaze to Prince Qin, who stood at the foot of the steps with his head lowered in silence.

“Prince Qin, what do you think?”

Hearing his father’s inquiry, Prince Qin first looked up at the Emperor, then glanced at the Crown Prince before stepping forward and bowing:

“Since the Wei dynasty, every successive dynasty has established the Dengwen Drum. The Wei Shu records: ‘If one has a grievous injustice, one strikes the drum, and the carriage official submits the memorial accordingly.’ In the Song dynasty, commoners were permitted to strike the Dengwen Drum to air grievances, as a sign of judicial transparency. In our dynasty, because Father’s rule is stern and clear, with complete judicial organs at every level, the drum has rarely been heard.”

“Precisely because of this, the sounding of the drum today is no small matter. True, the grain merchant may have violated the escalation rule, but the one he is accusing is his own local magistrate. Coming to the capital to strike the drum is only reasonable. The drum has not sounded for years—now that it has, the whole realm will know. I beg Your Majesty to conduct a thorough investigation.”

Upon hearing this, the Crown Prince turned and glared at him, a cold smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “He is accusing his local magistrate, yes, but above Chen Mingshan stands the provincial surveillance commission. According to you, dear brother, every official under Father’s rule protects one another and governance is obstructed, is that it?”

The Crown Prince, now forty-four, was the eldest legitimate son of the late Empress and had always been the Emperor’s great hope. In earlier years, the Emperor had even allowed him to oversee state affairs. Having sat in deliberation for decades, the Crown Prince quickly seized upon the flaw in Prince Qin’s argument.

Prince Qin smiled thinly and pointed toward the bright sky beyond the hall:

“The people outside Zhengyang Gate are seething with public outcry, and the hundreds of thousands of border soldiers are watching. How do you propose to handle this, Crown Prince?”

The Crown Prince was briefly stumped.

Just recently, the Great Wu had been making many moves, and a major battle loomed in the coming year. The court’s urgent grain requisition had brought the Tongzhou granary affair to light, and that fire had now scorched the Crown Prince’s own backside.

Noticing the Emperor casting a suspicious glance his way, the Crown Prince quickly changed tack, sighing with apparent regret: “The case must be investigated, of course. The Censorate has already sent one seventh-rank censor—it can send another investigating censor as well. My point is that the one who struck the Dengwen Drum must be flogged, to set an example.”

Prince Qin was about to retort when the Emperor glanced leisurely around at the courtiers:

“Minister Yang, what do you think?”

Right Commander Yang Kang of the Five Military Commands was both the Crown Prince’s father-in-law and his maternal uncle. Seeing the Crown Prince trying to suppress the Dengwen Drum case, he suspected it might involve him. Yet the hundreds of thousands of troops under his command were waiting for winter grain supplies.

After a moment’s weighing, Minister Yang bowed and said, “Your servant believes we should swiftly uncover the truth of the case and send grain to the border.”

The Crown Prince’s brow tightened. He cast a sharp look at Yang Kang, who kept his eyes lowered and did not respond.

The Emperor’s eyelids drooped as he quietly regarded Yang Kang for a moment. Then he gave a grunt of acknowledgment and looked finally to the Grand Secretary, Yan Ping:

“Grand Secretary Yan, what do you say?”

Yan Ping was Prince Qin’s maternal uncle, the elder brother of Noble Consort Yan. As Grand Secretary and concurrently Minister of Personnel, he stood on equal footing with the Crown Prince and Minister Yang on a daily basis.

Yan Ping stepped forward unhurriedly and bowed: “Your servant believes the law cannot be abandoned. The one who struck the drum should be dealt with according to law. But the Tongzhou case is also urgent and must be investigated quickly to give the people an accounting.”

The Emperor smiled faintly, slowly straightened himself against the table, and leaned forward to ask, “Then how do you propose we investigate it?”

Yan Ping glanced at the Crown Prince, whose face had turned dark, and replied evenly, “In accordance with the Crown Prince’s decree—send an investigating censor to Tongzhou.”

From somewhere below, a soft snort was heard: “A balanced hand—truly an old fox…”

Yan Ping straightened and stepped back, pretending not to hear.

The Emperor, however, looked toward the speaker—it was the third prince, Prince Chen.

Prince Qin, angered at his uncle being mocked in court, was about to rebuke Prince Chen when Yan Ping stopped him with a stern look.

Just as the Emperor seemed ready to agree with Yan Ping, Pei Muheng, who had been standing to the left of the Emperor’s armrest, slowly ascended the steps and said softly:

“Grandfather, it is already the third quarter of the hour of Wu. You ate little at breakfast. There’s no rush to discuss the case now—please have your meal first. Your health is what matters most.”

The young imperial grandson’s profile was as pale as fine jade, flawless in its perfection. His voice, clear as a string of pearls, seemed to wash away the acrid smoke of contention that filled the hall.

The Emperor’s gaze shifted to him, his expression softening. He raised his hand and allowed Pei Muheng and the attending eunuch to help him up. He swept his eyes across the hall: “Let us eat first.”

Pei Muheng escorted him to the side hall for the meal, while the other ministers remained in the main hall of Wenzhao to eat their communal meal.

Once the Emperor had left, Prince Qin and the Crown Prince resumed their verbal sparring, neither giving the other any quarter.

In the side hall, Pei Muheng and Liu Xiping, the Chief Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs, attended to the Emperor’s meal.

The Emperor took a slow sip of ginseng soup and looked at Pei Muheng. “Heng’er, who do you think should be sent to Tongzhou?”

Pei Muheng, carefully placing dishes that had been tasted by a eunuch onto a small plate for the Emperor, showed no change in expression. He stepped back and bowed: “Your grandson is young and knows nothing of governance. I merely follow Grandfather and learn, writing documents as I go. I dare not presume to discuss state affairs.”

The Emperor smiled as he picked up his chopsticks. “I permit you to speak. Say it boldly.”

Pei Muheng wore a pained expression as he knelt and swept his robes aside. “The Crown Prince and Uncle Qin are arguing bitterly in the main hall, and yet you test me here, Grandfather. I am deeply fearful. If you must make things difficult for me, then just send me to Tongzhou instead.”

Anyone listening would think Pei Muheng, pressed helplessly by the Emperor, was speaking out of frustration.

But the Emperor looked at him intently, a sharp gleam in his ashen eyes.

If they followed the Crown Prince’s suggestion and sent an investigating censor, it would likely be much ado about nothing. If they followed Prince Qin, it would only stir more chaos. Neither outcome pleased the Emperor.

When Pei Muheng said he would go himself, the Emperor thought of a compromise.

A moment later, the Emperor decreed that the Twelfth Prince, Pei Xun, be sent to Tongzhou to investigate the case.

The Twelfth Prince, Pei Xun, the only son of the current Empress, was honored above all at court and known as the Prince of Leisure. He idled his days away and never involved himself in factional struggles. He would neither favor the Crown Prince nor follow Prince Qin—he was the most suitable choice for Tongzhou.

The decree silenced the hall’s clamor. The Emperor returned to the Hall of Heavenly Worship for his afternoon rest, leaving Pei Muheng and the Chief Eunuch to read out the edict. After receiving the decree, Twelfth Prince Pei Xun rolled up his sleeves and lunged at Pei Muheng, aiming for his ear:

“Was it you, you little brat, who set me up? I was perfectly happy spending the new year in the capital—why do you have to send me off to Tongzhou?”

At that, both the Crown Prince and Prince Qin cast suspicious looks his way.

Aware that as the Emperor’s attendant he was closely watched by all factions, Pei Muheng laughed bitterly in front of them to deflect suspicion: “How could that be? His Majesty asked my opinion—I dared not say much. I only knelt and said, ‘If Grandfather insists on testing me, then just send me instead.’ His Majesty must have thought me unfit for the task and chose Uncle instead.”

Twelfth Prince Pei Xun understood the Emperor’s deeper intent well enough. He tapped the decree lightly against his palm and snorted at Pei Muheng:

“I’ll remember this!”

Watching the ministers file away, Pei Muheng’s expression returned to its usual composure. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked toward the Document Office next to Wenhua Hall.

Huang Wei had been waiting under the veranda for a long time. He hurried forward:

“My lord, you must be starving. Look—the young mistress sent a food box, just to fill your stomach!”

The sun had already passed its zenith, slanting toward the west. Wenhua Hall and the Document Office were separated by a small courtyard. Red walls and green tiles set off Pei Muheng’s fair complexion. He looked at the delicate lacquered box in Huang Wei’s hands. “My lady sent this?”

“Indeed!”

Pei Muheng understood—this was Xu Yunqi’s thank-you gift.

Things were proceeding as he had hoped. In good spirits, he took Huang Wei through the side gate into the Document Office. The office had three duty rooms to the north, with a passageway leading to a small courtyard at the back. Two osmanthus trees grew in the yard, still lush with leaves, adding a touch of green to the harsh winter. This was where Pei Muheng usually rested.

Palace servants had already laid out a full meal on the table. Huang Wei placed Xu Yunqi’s food box at the front and set out the plate of plum-blossom cakes. Seeing it was a pastry, Pei Muheng frowned—he did not care for sweets.

Huang Wei, seeing it was pastry too, felt a pang of regret. But not wanting Xu Yunqi’s gesture to go to waste, he urged, “Just try one.”

Mindful of Xu Yunqi’s thoughtfulness, Pei Muheng picked up a piece and put it in his mouth. The moment it touched his tongue, he paused.

It was like a rich, creamy paste melting on his lips—not too sweet, not too sticky, fine and smooth, with a faint, lingering herbal fragrance.

Looking at the plate, the cakes were shaped like jade disks, dotted with red plum flowers, with a sprig of dry branch fashioned at the edge—both poetic and meditative.

So she was a woman of refinement too.

Pei Muheng was always restrained and measured. He ate three pieces and set the rest aside. Huang Wei put the remaining two back in the box and brought them to the front duty room, saving them in case Pei Muheng wanted more later.

At the second quarter of the hour of Wei, someone from the Ministry of Revenue came to fetch Pei Muheng. Huang Wei accompanied him. When they returned in the evening, Pei Muheng was hungry and instinctively thought of those cakes—but the box on the table was empty.

Pei Muheng was puzzled. He looked at Huang Wei, who was equally baffled. Huang Wei quickly called the eunuch on duty and barked:

“Which audacious wretch dared to touch the Third Master’s cakes?”

The young eunuch dropped to his knees in terror. “How would your servants dare? His Majesty came to the Document Office at the beginning of the hour of Shen. He caught the scent and ate both pieces.”

Huang Wei was taken aback. He looked back at Pei Muheng, whose expression was a mix of emotions.

—

The new year was approaching, and the administrative quarter was lit day and night. Countless memorials poured into the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs daily. The Directorate first reviewed the documents, then passed them to the Document Office for preliminary annotation. Major matters were submitted to the Emperor by Pei Muheng and the Chief Eunuch together; others were processed according to the Grand Secretariat’s drafted replies. Pei Muheng had hardly any time to return home.

Only occasionally, when pastries came from the imperial kitchen, would he think of Xu Yunqi’s plum-blossom cakes.

Perhaps because they were still unfamiliar, he felt awkward asking. He thought she might send more, but after three or four days, no food box appeared. Pei Muheng was not one to indulge his appetites, so he let the matter go.

On the eighth day of the twelfth month—the Laba Festival—the palace distributed Laba porridge to the households of princes and high officials.

The porridge was too sweet for Xu Yunqi’s taste. She quietly gave hers to Yinxing, who loved sweets, to drink.

That morning, after paying her respects to the Princess Consort, Xu Yunqi went out.

She had a serious patient to treat with acupuncture today. Before leaving, she instructed Yinxing to check the medical kit and prepare for departure.

But when Xu Yunqi changed into her traveling clothes, she saw Yinxing frantically searching for something in the side room.

“What’s wrong?”

Xu Yunqi, wrapped in a thick satin-feathered cloak, stood at the door and leaned in to ask.

Yinxing, on the verge of tears, turned and replied, “Mistress, the little sachet in the medical kit is gone.”

Xu Yunqi’s expression shifted. That sachet contained her specialized needles for opening abdomens or suturing wounds. She quickly steadied herself and asked gently, “We haven’t gone out since we saved that pregnant woman. Think—where have you kept the medical kit during this time?”

Yinxing sobbed, nearly breathless. “I put it back in the side-room dispensary as soon as we returned. I haven’t touched it for days.” She sniffled. “Could it have been left at the clinic?”

Xu Yunqi furrowed her brow. Better if it was at the clinic—if it had been left in Pei Muheng’s carriage, that would be troublesome.

“Let’s go to the clinic first.”

As usual, they went to the ready-made clothing shop first. This time, Xu Yunqi did not change her clothes. She sat in the shop and sent Yinxing to look for the sachet at the neighboring clinic. Today’s patient required surgery without fail—without the sachet, it couldn’t be done. A short while later, Yinxing returned with a pale face, and Xu Yunqi knew the situation was dire. She called over the shopkeeper:

“Go next door for me and tell Shopkeeper Hu that my instruments were left at home—I need to go back and get them. If I haven’t returned by the hour of Shen this afternoon, have the patient go home and come back tomorrow.”

The shopkeeper agreed.

Xu Yunqi left the shop, took Yinxing to the carriage, and told the driver, “To the imperial city.”

Pei Muheng lived in the imperial city year-round. The carriage was parked inside the Meridian Gate, and Xu Yunqi could not enter. Fortunately, a guard from the prince’s mansion was stationed at the gate. Seeing Xu Yunqi, he immediately sent word to Pei Muheng. At that time, Pei Muheng was reviewing various memorials in the Document Office. Hearing that Xu Yunqi had come, he instinctively assumed she was bringing him food.