The Ming Storm

by Yan LeiSheng

  “Are you speaking about Yu Dayong?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Does he often come south?”

  “Yes, I heard that he was in business with the Portuguese.”

  Despite being governor of Nanjing, Yu Dayong was seen very little, and Xu Pengju avoided him as much as possible. But for Shao Jun, whose goal was to eliminate the Eight Tigers, his presence in the city was an unexpected opportunity.

  “Lord, I wanted to ask…”

  “Let me be clear,” he cut her off. “I am happy to welcome you under my roof and ensure your safety, but I will not be mixed up in your dispute with the Eight Tigers.”

  Now that was unexpected. Because he had the trust of Wang Yangming, because he had killed Chen Xijian to protect her, because he had treated her and was prepared to offer her his hospitality despite her status as a fugitive, Shao Jun had quite naturally supposed that the young lord would be completely allied to her cause…

  He stood and invited her to leave the terrace with him.

  “Miss, if you will…”

  Without saying any more, she left the stone boat under a starry sky. No breeze disturbed the water of the lake, and the silence of the night was broken only by the frogs croaking from their water lilies.

  For once, no nightmares troubled her sleep. Chen Xijian was dead and couldn’t reveal her secrets, and she was under the protection of a man whose influence in Nanjing exceeded that of Zhang Yong… Deep down, she could even understand why he refused to commit to her cause, which for him would require a significant number of sacrifices. He had probably killed the old mausoleum steward to protect himself as much as the young woman, but she was no less grateful to him for doing so.

  Yes, she would stay here for a time to allow her wounds to heal, while waiting to be able to review next steps with Master Yangming.

  When she arrived back at the house, she found Yanfei waiting in front of the door to the library. The young slave ran to meet her as soon as she saw her arrive.

  “Miss! I hope you didn’t fight with the master!”

  “You should go to sleep, Yanfei.”

  “The master promised to wait until you were healed before dueling you. He fights with such passion… I hope he didn’t injure you at least?”

  Touched by her concern, Shao Jun smiled reassuringly at the young girl.

  “No, and don’t worry, he didn’t hurt me. Now go to bed. I should rest too.”

  Chapter 11

  Xu Pengju visited Shao Jun every day during her convalescence. Each day, he spent fortunes having the best dishes in the region brought to the house by runners, but never bragged about it to his guest, even going as far as to pretend that the succulent exotic fruits came from his own gardens. Instead of speaking about the serious issues that preoccupied her, he spoke of lighter subjects, and seemed particularly interested in hearing of the young woman’s journey to Europe, questioning her about Western landscapes and customs. He dreamed of visiting Italy, but it was difficult for him to even visit the empire’s capital due to his considerable military and administrative responsibilities. Each discussion revealed a new facet of his personality.

  Shao Jun also enjoyed the presence of Yanfei, who was unaware of the terrible business she was involved in and had shown no interest in knowing. The young slave nursed her with care, and after several days the ointments and infusions seemed to gain the upper hand over her wounds. When she removed the dressings to clean off the dried blood, the young girl was surprised by what she saw.

  “Miss,” she marveled, “the wound is completely closed!”

  “You’re right,” Shao Jun responded as she stretched her arm, “I seem to be healed. Thank you for looking after me so well.”

  “It’s incredible! Last month the cook sliced off the end of his finger cutting vegetables, and it’s still not better. But it only took you several days to heal up!”

  “But cutting off a finger is much more serious!”

  “No… When you arrived, your wound was as wide as the mouth of a newborn crying for milk! It was awful… But now it’s healed, and in just a few days too!”

  Yanfei emphatically waved two spread fingers under Shao Jun’s nose. This servant must be well treated indeed and unfearful of her master to be so open and talkative. The young woman wanted to know more.

  “What does your master do, normally?” she asked.

  “Umm… He seems bewitched by this Jouyi! Have you met her? She’s not really very pretty, she just knows how to use makeup. He spent three thousand two hundred taels to buy her, but I really don’t see what’s so special about her.”

  The young slave’s jealousy reminded the former imperial favorite of her years in the harem. After she was noticed by the Emperor, many of the concubines who had previously been friendly to her had changed completely. And while during that period Shao Jun had experienced love and happiness for the first time, she also knew that in Zhengde’s eyes, she had never been more than simply one of the many in his entourage. She was his spy, and her usefulness was her value, and that was all. She had very rarely seen tenderness in her master’s eyes.

  She let out a small, bitter laugh. Why was she suddenly thinking of her old life? She wasn’t the type to dwell on the past.

  Xu Pengju called from the doorway.

  “Yanfei, you impertinent little thing, what are you saying behind my back, hmm?”

  In reality he hadn’t heard anything, but the young slave turned bright red and began to panic.

  “Master, I wouldn’t dare!”

  The lord entered the library and handed her a wicker basket.

  “Peel these nuts,” he ordered, “then crush them and have them boiled with milk. Tonight, we will drink delicious fresh nut milk.”

  Didn’t he know that preparing the drink was not as simple as he made it sound? It was completely impossible to make nut milk in half a day, but Yanfei, still worried about being interrupted as she spoke badly of Jouyi, didn’t dare protest and rushed to take the basket to satisfy her master’s desires as best she could.

  When she left, he sat down next to Shao Jun’s bed.

  “How is your injury?”

  The young woman noted that he seemed more preoccupied than usual.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “I received a letter from my master, who has been recalled to a post at the border despite his age and declining strength.”

  “What does he say?”

  “Nothing in particular. The barbarians don’t dare invade the empire, the city of Tourfan submitted, and the days pass without incident.”

  So, why was he so worried? Shao Jun waited silently for him to open up to her.

  “I’d like your opinion on something.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Zhang Yong said the empire was sick, eroded by pressures on the borders and internal rebellion. According to him, only radical measures, a ‘shock to the system’, could overcome these dangers, like how a storm must break before good weather can return. Do you think it’s true?”

  Thrown by his frankness, the young woman considered carefully. While she was older than her host, she was far below his level of study. On the other hand, she had gained real experience of the world through her travels, something that was inaccessible to a noble of good family who had never left Nanjing. But they were both disciples of eminent Confucian scholars, which at least enabled them to speak from a common foundation. She looked out of the window and answered quietly, “In the West, I journeyed several tens of thousands of lis through over thirty countries. Some were prosperous after experiencing ruin, while others were in ruins after experiencing prosperity. It takes longer than a single night for a lake to ice over completely, and it takes longer than a single day for a young tree to grow to a hundred feet; there is no medicine to heal these maladies, and no man can cure all
the evils of a country. Governance requires inventiveness, listening, and much patience. A leader must listen to the people and effect change over decades before seeing results.”

  “Is that the teaching of Wang Yangming?”

  “Of course. I am not in a position to develop my own informed opinion on the subject.”

  “Master Yang once told me that the fate decreed by Heaven cannot be evaded. We can neither predict nor oppose it.”

  While the young lord was perfectly calm, to Shao Jun these words were like a bolt to the heart. If Yang Yiqing saw the world this way, then he was not opposed to Zhang Yong.

  “And what do you suggest?” she asked.

  “I think in my situation the best course of action is to seek advice and consider the options.”

  The young woman recognized the quote from the Discourse on Teaching, although the meaning of the words had always escaped her. Xu Pengju had however omitted the beginning of the passage in question, which stipulated that “the disciple should not aspire to equal the master, nor the master to be as competent as the disciple”. Like many men his age, the young lord often overestimated himself, but he had boundless respect for his master, who would never have been able to accept such a suggestion.

  One day Zhang Yong had come to visit Yang Yiqing while the prince was training, and the prince had the honor of being present for the discussion between the two men. According to the first, national affairs were in a deplorable state, and the country must be treated like a patient suffering from buboes: bursting the abscesses to disinfect them with strong alcohol. Xu Pengju disagreed, thinking it was better to trust fate and not fight against the inevitable or risk making things worse. Treatment such as that mentioned by Zhang Yang might certainly heal the patient, but it could also hasten their death. Instead, why not consolidate their natural defenses before subjecting them to a violent treatment?

  But, too unsure of himself and so affected by the presence of his elders – the Tiger was in the process of becoming the most influential minister in the country’s history – he hadn’t dared open his mouth and his questions remained stuck in his throat like fish bones. And so, he had been unable to resist the desire to question Wang Yangming’s pupil. Shao Jun’s master was the greatest philosopher of their time, revered even more than Yang Yiqing in the field of literature. When Xu Pengju was finally able to express his thoughts to his guest, he was delighted to discover that she echoed his own conclusions.

  He continued, despite the young woman’s strange gaze.

  “I still haven’t explained why I refused to help you eliminate Yu Dayong.”

  Shao Jun never knew quite where she stood with him, so she found it very strange that he brought up such a delicate subject again. She felt like she was walking on eggshells.

  “And do you have any intention of doing so now?”

  “As I told you, the pendant Master Wang Yangming gave you was part of a trio…”

  “Yes.”

  “And so, the one with the character Dao engraved on it belongs to… to the venerable captain general of the imperial guard, Zhang Yong.”

  Despite the seasonal warmth, the young woman couldn’t hold back a shiver. Master Yangming, Yang Yiqing and… Zhang Yong! The idea that the three men could have been so close stunned her. A lot of things made sense in light of this new information. Master Yangming had always referred to the leader of the Eight Tigers as “Uncle Zhang”, a mark of respect, while he referred to the others by their last names and was evasive every time Shao Jun had asked why. For the wise scholar, seeing a close friend become such a cruel monster was unacceptable. He must have insisted that the young woman seek refuge with Xu Pengju only as a last resort because he feared that Yang Yiqing’s disciple may side with Zhang Yong. Fortunately, the young man’s views seemed much more aligned with those of his guest’s master.

  “I had no idea,” Shao Jun murmured.

  “Do you blame me?”

  “No… Everyone must carry their own burden.”

  The lord was greatly relieved because his mind had been whirling ever since Yu Dayong’s visit to Nanjing and the letter from his master. In the current situation, it had been impossible for him to maintain his neutrality: handing his guest over to Zhang Yong was to oppose Master Yangming’s cause, but hiding her was to oppose the Eight Tigers. And yet, now he was free of the troubles that had weighed upon him, he saw more clearly, and was grateful to Shao Jun for not holding it against him.

  “Miss, you must know that my master also informed me of something else in his letter.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Zhang Yong recently visited him to ensure he could still count on their friendship. He even mentioned their pendants.”

  “But why?”

  “In my opinion, he only made the effort to travel as far as the frontier because he already has suspicions.”

  “Lord Pengju… does anyone know of my presence here?”

  “Chen Xijian didn’t have time to tell anyone. I heard that Yu Dayong found a body in the mausoleum, but my informer couldn’t tell me whose it was. Was anyone else with you?”

  “No. The body was Ma Yongcheng’s.”

  Xu Pengju grimaced. The assassination of a person of such rank within the Xiaoling mausoleum would be an embarrassment. It wasn’t surprising that Yu Dayong hadn’t made the matter public.

  “Did you kill him?” he asked.

  “No, it was Chen Xijian.”

  “I see… The old eunuch wanted to claim your capture and all the glory for himself alone.”

  “Exactly!” Shao Jun responded, impressed by her host’s perceptiveness.

  “Yu Dayong certainly didn’t know the details of the affair, but now I understand why Uncle Zhang pursues you so relentlessly…”

  That explained Zhang Yong’s visit to Master Yiqing. Instead of capturing Shao Jun as he hoped, he had two bodies, and his prey had disappeared into the ether once more.

  “But how did Zhang Yong know about the jade pendant?” the young woman persisted.

  “Perhaps he knows nothing. Bleeding on my boat, Chen Xijian proclaimed loud and clear that he had taken the pendant from you, but all those who were there that night have my trust, and none of them has left the house in the last few days. Also, if the leak had come from here, Zhang Yong would have come to me directly instead of visiting my master on the border. He can have nothing but suspicions, simply wants to reassure himself that he can rely on his old friendships…”

  Yang Yiqing had written his letter innocently unaware of the torment he would inflict upon his disciple. By killing Chen Xijian, the latter, who had convinced himself that he was the modern equivalent of the great General Yue Fei and thought his decisions infallible, had become involved in a situation he would rather have avoided. And until the arrival of the fateful missive, he had believed that he had managed to act without risking the slightest reprisal. Now he was surrounded by chaos and had no idea which way to turn. Zhang Yong’s visit to his old friend was something to be concerned about, but it was also entirely possible that it was just a coincidence. Yes, the young lord concluded, it was better not to jump to conclusions.

  Shao Jun was more circumspect. Knowing the extent of Zhang Yong’s power, she found it hard to believe in chance. It was hard to imagine such a calculating and meticulous person, who hadn’t hesitated to have the Leopard Quarter burnt as a precaution, making a long journey just to speak to an old friend. It was simply impossible. One way or another, he had learned that the young woman had one of the pendants and had suspected Yang Yiqing. Now he knew that his old friend still had his, he could deduce that his adversary was none other than Wang Yangming – he might even already be on his way. Struck by the urgency of her situation, the young woman leapt up. She had to get the pendant to her master before the leader of the Eight Tigers reached him.

  “Lord Pengju,” she announced,
“I must leave Nanjing immediately!”

  “So suddenly? But your injury–”

  “It’s healed, I’ll be fine. Can you help me leave, quietly?”

  “I think it will be difficult while Uncle Yu is looking for you in the city… Are you sure you can’t wait?”

  “I doubt I will make it in time even I leave now. Lord Pengju, what was the date on Master Yang’s letter?”

  He had sent it from a post on the northwestern border, several thousand lis from Nanjing, a distance that even the fastest couriers would take two weeks to cover. Zhang Yong could already be almost halfway to Guangxi, where Wang Yangming was pacifying the Tianzhou rebellion.

  Shao Jun’s panicked expression amused Xu Pengju, who quickly reassured her.

  “Even if Zhang Yong left immediately, you’ll be in Tianzhou long before him. My master wrote his letter the day before yesterday.”

  “The day before yesterday?”

  “Yes, we send our correspondence by air using the gyrfalcons I raised. Master Yang also uses them for the army on the three borders. The small birds are remarkable, they can cover a thousand lis in one night!”

  “Does he mention how soon after Zhang Yong’s visit he sent his message?”

  “No, he only said ‘recently’. A handful of days past, at most.”

  Shao Jun heaved a sigh of relief. Even if the letter was five or six days old and the horses were pushed to their last strength, it would be impossible to reach Guangxi in so little time. She still had a chance.

  “Lord Pengju, this can’t wait. Please, take me to the city gates.”

  If she stopped only to change mounts, it would take her a month to cover the three thousand lis between Nanjing and Tianzhou.

  “Very well, but I will have to give you up if Yu Dayong questions me.”

  It took two hours to prepare Xu Pengju’s departure: the prince of Wei’s retinue had to have a certain prestige, regardless of the importance or distance of travel. A majestic parade of thirty people soon made its way towards the Treasure Gate, one of the thirteen points through which all travelers entered or left Nanjing. According to legend, the gate had been built in honor of Emperor Hongwu by Shen Wansan, then known as one of the richest men in the country. The Emperor, jealous of seeing his own fortune exceeded in such an outrageous fashion, secretly sent men every night to destroy everything that had been built during the day. He hoped that not only would the site appear cursed by evil spirits, but that Shen Wansan would ruin himself by constantly trying to reconstruct it. However, the Emperor was unaware that the wealthy man had a magical pot that refilled with coins every day, and apparently, he “took gold at midnight, and then found more in the morning”. When he learned of this, Hongwu had the precious object entombed in the foundations of the wall as it was built, which is why the gate came to be known as the “Treasure Gate”. It now sat to the south of the city, large enough to hold a thousand soldiers and featuring numerous arrow slits.