by Yan LeiSheng
With the fire, the last vestige of a bygone era had gone up in smoke.
“There is nothing to be done, A-Qiang, what is past is past. Is Uncle Chen still in the palace?”
“Which Uncle Chen?” asked the imperial consort, relieved at the change of subject.
The name was so common that at least five or six eunuchs bore it. One of them was in her retinue, but he was unlikely to know Shao Jun.
“Uncle Chen Xijian.”
“Oh, that Chen! His reputation was in tatters when he was no longer wanted in the Leopard Quarter and he was asked to leave the capital. I don’t know what happened to him after.”
Chen Xijian had been the eunuch attending the Leopard Quarter and a loyal servant of Emperor Zhengde, which was why he was removed from the capital following the Emperor’s death. Shao Jun remembered him as a courteous man, and importantly, one with no links to Zhang Yong. She tried to look detached.
“Oh really? Then there’s no one else for me to see here… I should go.”
The imperial consort dried her tears.
“Where will you go, Jun?” she asked with a surprised expression that amused her friend.
“Much has changed, A-Qiang. The less you know, the better.”
Zhang Qiang had been unable to hide her jealousy when Shao Jun was named the imperial favorite, first among the imperial consorts, because she had always aspired to a similar position. Now that she had achieved her dream under the reign of Emperor Jiajing, she was worried it might evaporate.
The time had come for the two friends to say their goodbyes, but they stood for a moment, plainly measuring the depth of the gulf that existed between them.
The trespasser almost faded into the dark night with her dark clothing, invisible as long as she avoided the moonlight. She pulled up her hood.
“Jun, go quickly,” breathed an increasingly alarmed Zhang Qiang. The imperial palace seemed to be deserted, but a patrol could appear at any minute, and if they found her there…
The hour was late, but between the porters, escorts, bodyguards, and administrators assigned to posts and patrols, over a hundred people were still coming and going within the Forbidden City. Shao Jun had made it to her friend without being seen and she trusted her ability to leave just as discreetly, but it would be disastrous if she were discovered.
“Very well, I’m going,” she said quietly before opening the window.
Zhang Qiang sighed. As she left, her friend turned to add:
“A-Qiang, when I returned from Europe, I arrived at the port in the city with the Indian coral trees.”
“Is it still the same as I described?”
“Hmm.”
Shao Jun didn’t say more, fearing that her friend would hear the catch in her voice. Despite all the years spent like sisters in the harem, they had become strangers to one another.
A gust of wind caused Zhang Qiang to shiver, then she was suddenly alone, as if she had been visited by a ghost. Nothing moved in the dark night beyond the half-open window.
“Take care, Jun,” she whispered.
The Chinese Emperor’s highest-ranking concubine felt tears roll down her cheeks, her face pale as the whitest jade.
She knew it was the last time she would see the only person to ever inspire tenderness and friendship in her, and regretted losing the object entrusted to her friend by the dead Emperor.
Before Italy, Shao Jun would never have seen things in the same way. But after all the years of being hunted, plotting, and lying she was no longer the carefree girl she had once been. She’d remembered a detail from Ezio Auditore’s teaching on the subject of loyalty and treason: if the pupils of the person you are speaking to dilate and their pulse increases, they are hiding something. This was why she had moved close to Zhang Qiang and put her hand on her shoulder. Looking into her friend’s eyes, she hadn’t seen joy at the sight of an old friend, only fear of the consequences of this unexpected return.
The woman she had seen tonight was no longer her childhood friend.
Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces; Shao Jun stood deep in thought. Memories of their friendship had helped her though the difficult years overseas, but now she had to face the truth: their friendship was dead.
Who were her parents? Why had they left her in the palace at such a young age? Her earliest memories were of growing up in the walls of the harem, constantly terrified of the older concubines who never treated her as one of their own. Zhang Qiang had been the only one to open her heart to her. She had thought the connection between them infallible, everlasting. She’d been wrong. How could she blame her friend? People changed; it was as simple as that. At least she hadn’t alerted the guard.
“Perhaps I’m cursed…” Shao Jun whispered to herself.
Before the Emperor chose her as his favorite, the only person who didn’t avoid her was an ancient palace worker who sometimes gave her fruit when there was no one around. One day the young Shao Jun asked her why the others weren’t nice to her, and the servant responded by stroking her head, simply answering that she must have been born under an unlucky star.
It was the first time she ever heard someone speak of fate, and at the time she hadn’t understood what it was. The old woman’s words took on greater meaning now her life was nothing but misfortune.
The old woman had been killed after discovering the plot of the Eight Tigers, but the mentor had saved Shao Jun and welcomed her to the Brotherhood, where she had been doted upon by novices and masters alike. Despite being the youngest member, she had finally felt like she belonged to a family. Her good luck had been short lived however, as her new world was soon torn apart during the events unleashed by the plot. The Emperor’s favorites had perished with him and her friendship with A-Qiang was gone… Shao Jun could no longer believe in anything except her ill-starred fate.
The Emperor may have changed but the guards’ rounds were the same as ever. Shao Jun knew their routes like the back of her hand and moved through the Forbidden City like a shadow. She crept around blind corners, pressed herself against walls to allow guards to pass at intersections, and melted into the shadows with her cloak. But though she swam through the night like a fish through water, she was gripped by unease.
The Six Eastern Palaces stood to the west. She passed through the rear galleries, then came out into the new Palace of Benevolent Longevity, built on the ruins of the old palace and surrounded by a high wall. The guards never went this far, so she could finally relax a little. The ground was still blackened by the fire that had destroyed the old building.
Beyond the protective wall and its moat lay one of a dozen imperial warehouses, used to store various unique items and tools created by a range of artisans. Former Emperor Zhengde had been interested in these types of strange curiosities, and had often taken Shao Jun to see them. But the young woman’s attention had always been drawn to Xiyuan, the small landscaped islet between the southern lake and the central lake of Lake Taiye which was the imperial city’s weakest point.
One of the iron beams which passed underneath the wall was removable: once taken out, she could easily come and go without being observed. The secret passage was Zhengde’s idea, executed when he had the Leopard Quarter built in Xiyuan park. He liked the building much more than his palace apartments; he had even received the Portuguese delegation from Perez there. Shao Jun lived there for two years before the old Emperor noticed her, and seduced by her graceful figure, had made her his favorite to more easily assign her spying missions both inside and outside the City. He had sometimes taken this secret passage himself when his life of confinement weighed on him too heavily, but now she was probably the only one who still know of its existence. Nonetheless, she wanted to visit the ruins of the Leopard residence before leaving, particularly the Xifan pavilion.
A cool breeze blew across Shao Jun’s face. She had passed the imperial warehouse
without realizing and was now on the large bridge with arches that marked the boundary between the central and southern sections of Lake Taiye. She had gone halfway across before stopping, chilled by a freezing blast of wind that cut through the air like a knife. A light blue mist floated above water that was probably frozen at this late hour.
A blurred silhouette began to appear at the end of the lake.
The Leopard Quarter had been left to rot since Emperor Zhengde’s death and no one visited Xiyuan park any more. Even the guards no longer made the effort to include this deserted place in their rounds. Shao Jun would never have expected to see anyone there in the middle of the night. The silhouette also froze, just as surprised as she. It would have been easy to believe time had stopped if the fog had not continued its malicious swirl. The unknown figure seemed to wear a guard’s uniform, but the fact that they hadn’t immediately alerted the others was suspicious. Perhaps it was someone else who had also crept quietly into the Forbidden City? But what were they be doing there?
Tching! The characteristic sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath. The silhouette leapt forward and hurled itself at Shao Jun.
Less muscular than a man, the young woman had trained hard to compensate for her lack of strength. Refusing to flee the confrontation, she ran to meet her adversary, reaching them in seconds. Even from several feet away she still couldn’t see their face, hidden as it was in the shadows. She noticed that it was a small man, armed with a saber longer than those carried by the palace guards.
The bridge was barely wide enough for five or six people to walk side by side, a constraint which could determine the outcome of this fight.
Shao Jun drew her weapon and immediately attempted a thrust, which was easily parried by her opponent. The response came fast but was quickly intercepted with a clang. The sabre instantly swept underneath the young woman’s blade as she once again avoided injury. In a heartbeat the man transferred his weapon to his left hand and sliced the air with an unexpectedly wide blow. Shao Jun should have no choice but to jump into the icy water of the lake to escape the kiss of steel. But somehow she reacted quickly enough to counter. Clang!
The two combatants seemed equally surprised by the other’s skill. They moved almost soundlessly across the stones of the bridge, crossing their weapons in a flurry of strikes, each more dangerous than the last. The smallest mistake could be fatal in such an exchange. The man switched the blade between his hands once more as he bent low. This time he tried to reach Shao Jun’s legs, sending her leaping into the air, arms outspread like the wings of an eagle as she jumped to avoid the blow.
The knife-edge combat was a nightmare. She had not expected a fight during her furtive visit to the Forbidden City, and certainly not to fight such a powerful opponent. Fortunately, she wore the cloak given to her by Ezio Auditore which cushioned the sword strikes and made her moves harder to predict without constricting her movement. The accessory was typical of the Western brotherhoods, which compensated for their lesser kung-fu skills by using creative tools. To increase her chance of survival, Shao Jun decided to fight with her sword in her right hand and her rope dart in the other.
She thought she would be sliced open like a sacrificial lamb when her adversary switched hands for the third time. She tugged sharply on the rope that she had quietly hooked over the bridge’s opposing guardrail, sending herself flying to land behind the man. Her leg would have been cut off without her cloak to soften the blows from her opponent’s saber.
The two combatants had changed positions again, switching from east to west. Shao Jun tightened her sweaty grip on her weapons as they threated to slip from her hands. Her trusty dart was of no use during the next flurry of blows. Gritting her teeth, she emptied her mind and prepared to receive the next attack. But the man had left the bridge and disappeared into the black night.
Was he preparing an ambush? The location wasn’t ideal. Suddenly, the young woman realized that the dark night was brighter, and a thunderous sound echoed behind her.
The Leopard Quarter was on fire!
She couldn’t believe her eyes. This was why the other intruder, who was clearly responsible, had chosen to flee instead of continuing the fight. A fire of this size would soon attract the attention of the guards. But why destroy a building which hadn’t been used since the death of the old Emperor?
These questions would have to wait until later. Shao Jun jumped from the bridge and glanced behind her before moving to her secret passage. It was better not to linger.
The building of the Leopard Quarter began in the third year of the Emperor’s reign, when he had been seventeen, and she at least fourteen. The construction had taken four years and cost two hundred and forty thousand two hundred silver taels. The young woman was sufficiently familiar with the place to identify the section where the fire had begun: the Xifan pavilion.
It was the largest of the almost two hundred buildings which formed the residence, and Shao Jun had not been allowed to go near it, on Zhengde’s orders. She once heard that someone who made it inside had seen dismembered bodies hung on the wall, their stomachs sliced open and intestines on view. The description had terrified her, but curiosity won out and she had often tried to spy through the windows, though she never saw anything more than vague shapes. A few chairs and tables, as well as a huge iron cage that might hold a ferocious animal, were the only solid elements she had made out, but she had been certain that the walls were stained with splashes of blood.
What had been the purpose of the Xifan pavilion? Perhaps the Emperor had given her the answers to her questions on the day of his death, when he had entrusted her with the sealed metal tube that must contain a scroll. She remembered its smooth surface had been engraved with the characters Dai Yu, which she had also seen on a tablet hanging inside the Xifan pavilion. They referred to one of the sacred mountains at the edge of the East China Sea. If A-Qiang was to be believed, the answers she sought had been lost forever along with the case.
Struck down by a devastating illness, at the time of his death Zhengde had suspicions about the last man he still trusted, Zhang Yong. It was why he told Shao Jun to prevent the scroll he entrusted her with from ever falling into his hands.
Filled with nostalgia and regret, the young woman shivered in the cold night air. As she reminisced, she suddenly realized the identity of the man she had just fought.
Wei Bin, a member of the Eight Tigers!
And the most powerful, according to Zhu Jiuyuan. He could only have been there on Zhang Yong’s orders. But why risk coming here just to burn these dilapidated old buildings?
The leader of the Tigers must have got his hands on the scroll. But it was strange that he had waited for Shao Jun to return before he acted, if he’d had it in his possession since the destruction of the Palace of Benevolent Longevity. She was missing a piece of the puzzle.
The young woman was illuminated by a sudden burst of flames.
A-Qiang had been lying when she said that the scroll had been burned. That was the real reason for her nervousness. She’d been worried that her betrayal would be discovered! There was only one explanation: the imperial consort had given the scroll to Zhang Yong herself.
Shao Jun felt her heart sink.
A-Qiang must have been supported by a high-ranking dignitary to become an imperial concubine on the new Emperor’s accession to the throne, and Zhang Yong was the only one who could have helped her climb the ranks at such speed. It was easy to imagine what she might have offered in exchange. After all, she had said that she had hidden the scroll in the palace after Shao Jun’s departure, almost a year before the fire. At the time, A-Qiang had simply been one concubine among many at the imperial residence and had many opportunities to visit the Palace of Benevolent Longevity despite not living there. In addition, her rank was not far above that of a servant, allowing her to come and go without being watched. She would have easily been able to mov
e the scroll.
It was impossible to ignore the evidence. Despite the trust placed in her by her old friend, all Zhang Yong had needed to do was promise A-Qiang the title of consort in exchange for the object of his desire. Anything could be sacrificed if it achieved her goal to ascend the social ranks. It wasn’t surprising that Shao Jun’s arrival had terrified her.
A single tear rolled down her face as she squatted in front of the secret passage, looking back as the flames rose from Xiyuan park.
Chapter 4
“There were such horrors in the Leopard Quarter?”
Eyebrows furrowed, Master Yangming drank a mouthful of his tea as he contemplated the blanket of snow covering Lake Bixia4. Its surface was entirely frozen, but the shoreline was fortunately still visible to passersby.
4 Lake Bixia was originally located opposite the philosopher’s home in Shaoxing, Zhejiang, China.
Master Yangming himself had written the words Emerald Clouds, the translation of “Bixia”, on the front of his home facing the lake. The manor had been gifted to him by the prefect of Shaoxing as thanks for his help in ending the revolt of the prince of Ning.
“It must have been A-Qiang who gave the scroll to Zhang Yong,” Shao Jun said quietly.
After considering for a moment, Wang Yangming put down his cup and picked up two bamboo canes resting near the back door.
“Come, let’s go break a little ice!”
The young woman wondered why the mentor changed the subject so suddenly, but, knowing there was always purpose behind his actions, she followed and took the proffered cane without asking any further questions. One of its ends had turned brown with use, while the other was rough and worn. Wang Yangming made towards the snow-covered Tianquan bridge and once there he hit the frozen lake with a loud bang. Despite his frail appearance, his firm posture added strength to his blow: the cane slid smoothly through the powdery snow, then into the ice with enough power to break it. A large, gurgling crack opened in the ice, a gaping wound on the pristine expanse.
