by Yan LeiSheng
“Who goes there?” the sentry demanded.
Mu, the general steward, urged his horse forward, outraged by the question.
“Are you blind?” he cried. “The prince of Wei, commander-in-chief of the troops of Nanjing prefecture, comes to burn essence in the Porcelain Tower. Have you eaten a lion, to be so bold as to bar his way?”
“It’s just… Governor Yu ordered us to allow no one out,” the poor soldier stammered. “I’m only following orders. Just a moment, please, and I’ll inform him of your presence.”
“Governor Yu is here?” Xu Pengju interrupted before his steward grew angry.
Then Yu Dayong appeared.
“Prince Xu!” he called. “You wish to leave the city?”
The young lord greeted him, bowing with his hands clasped together. The Tiger’s position was not the highest rank in the hierarchy, but he still had authority over all civil servants in Nanjing and the armed forces at the edges of the prefecture.
“Governor, glory to your zeal! Don’t worry, I am simply visiting the Porcelain Tower to burn some incense. Will that be a problem?”
“How could I stand in the way of such a noble intention? Filial piety is the glue which holds our civilization together. Nonetheless, Uncle Zhang insisted that no exceptions could be made… Would you oblige me by opening the curtains on all your carriages so I can take a look?”
The Tiger had watched for a reaction from the young lord when he mentioned Zhang Yong, but he’d given nothing away. Yu Dayong had the feeling he was hiding something, but had no inkling that the prince was directly involved in the affair. As the governor was of a lower rank, his powers were limited in this specific situation, but he could at least inspect the prince’s retinue… There were around thirty people, most of whom were mounted on horses while the rest rode in one of the four large carriages in the procession which could have held twenty people between them. Instead of opposing the request, which he could have rightly taken offence to, Xu Pengju smiled amiably.
“But of course,” he responded. “I would hate to go against Uncle Zhang’s orders. All I ask if that you are careful not to damage the paper horses carried in some of the carriages! They are for my ancestral mother.”
According to tradition, paper offerings were burned as sacrifices to the deceased. When these houses, vehicles, utensils, and even sacrificial servants were engulfed by the flames, they flew to find the deceased relatives like horses of smoke galloping into the sky, hence the figurative name. As the prince of Wei’s family was the greatest in Nanjing, his paper horses were also the finest. Yu Dayong was impressed to see an entire carriage full of these votive objects, which even included seven slaves made with such care that their faces seemed as if they might come to life at any moment. “The young lord spares no expense when it comes to the rites,” he thought to himself.
Although he was not particularly intelligent, the Tiger was capable of brief moments of insight, and so he bent to examine the interior of the carriages from the ground. If someone were hiding among the paper horses, their feet would be immediately visible. He saw nothing but the delicate and finely sculpted legs of the paper objects, as well as the food which was undoubtedly for the banquet offering; the meals were vegetarian, and the monks at the temple were too greedy to be satisfied with such a frugal menu, particularly from the prince of Wei. Yu Dayong closed the curtains as he finished checking each of the carriages in turn.
“Lord Xu,” he said, “please excuse my rude interruption. I wish you safe travel. May your ancestral mother lack for nothing!”
Their high rank made many of the Tigers haughty and disdainful, but Yu Dayong had always maintained a lively and direct way of speaking, so it was a particular effort to address the prince of Wei, a man who was young enough to be his grandson, with such deference. As he wished him safe travels, he suddenly felt as if he was being watched and spun to look behind him but saw nothing but the carriages and the procession. His arrogance, so deeply rooted in him after years spent as a high-ranking civil servant, prevented him from examining the lord’s soldiers. If he had done so, he would have noticed that one of them wore their hat particularly low over their forehead, hiding their face. And if he had drawn closer, he would have discovered that it was Shao Jun, staring at him with hatred in her eyes.
This subterfuge was the prince’s work. He knew that leaving the city would draw the attention of the authorities, and had filled his carriages with paper horses and offerings so that inspection of the procession would focus on those rather than the guards surrounding it… And that was exactly what had happened.
The young woman struggled to control herself as she stopped herself drawing the sword hidden under her saddle and stabbing it into the back of Yu Dayong, who had now shed his suspicious air.
“Will Lord Xu spend the night at the Porcelain Tower?” he asked.
As governor, he should be warned if the head of the garrison planned to spend the night outside the walls, as the amount of food in the carriages seemed to suggest.
“Yes,” Xu Pengju answered. “And if you have the time, you are welcome to come with me, we can relax together for a while.”
Yu Dayong chuckled. Given the importance of his current business, he had no time to waste burning incense sticks. He politely declined the invitation, opened the gate, and allowed the procession through.
The Porcelain Tower of Nanjing was built in the tenth year of the reign of Emperor Yongle on the foundations of a previous monument, which had itself been erected by the State of Wu during the Three Kingdoms era. Alongside the Luoyang Temple of the White Horse, it was one of the oldest Buddhist temples in China. Its central tower, over thirty zhangs15 tall and fully painted, was the pride of the empire. By day, it shone like porcelain – hence the name – and glowed like a thousand flames at sunset.
15 Unit of measure equal to around 3 meters.
The head priest ran out to greet the procession when he learned the prince of Wei had come to make offerings at his temple.
He also hastily ordered that the visitor apartments be cleaned, and requisitioned all the remaining monks to leave incense ready to burn everywhere in the building, which suddenly buzzed with activity. It was of the highest importance that this eminent visitor felt at home.
On arrival, Xu Pengju invited Shao Jun to enter a carriage with him.
“Miss,” he said, “our paths will soon diverge, and I don’t know how long it will be before we can meet again. Will you do me the honor of one last duel?”
The young woman burst out laughing. After receiving such generous support from him, she regretted that she was unable to agree to his request. The poor man, already prepared to draw his weapon, still clearly smarted from her defeating him using only one arm. But she would have been lying if she pretended she was fully recovered.
“Friends always find one another again,” she responded. “Next time you’ll teach me the Three Revelations of the baton.”
“You’re still not in a condition to fight? How is your shoulder?”
“Better, thank you. But I don’t think I’ll be able to use my kung-fu properly for another five or six days.”
The prince’s disappointment was obvious, but his steward appeared at the carriage door holding a package before he could say more.
“Is everything ready, Mr Mu?” Xu Pengju asked.
“Yes. Tao Zhenting has arrived, here are the clothes and papers.”
The package contained a blue coat and a letter bearing the seal of the messenger network.
“Miss,” said the young man, “messenger Tao Zhenting has a physical appearance similar to your own. You can use his identity to remain safe on your journey.”
Under the Mings, freight was mainly sent by river or sea, but urgent messages were carried by riders who galloped from one messenger outpost to another, changing mounts and riding at a grueling pace �
� only stopping briefly to eat and rest as needed. If she used the same horse for the entire journey, it would take one or two months to cover the three thousand lis between Nanjing and Tianzhou, but with her disguise and official seal, Shao Jun could use the messenger posts, which would allow her to reach her destination in two weeks. She removed her soldier’s cloak to put on her new uniform, with which she would be able to pass completely unnoticed. She owed the prince of Wei a huge debt for his help. Hands folded together, she bowed before him.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Lord Pengju.”
“You won’t draw any attention dressed like that. Tao Zhenting will take your soldier’s cloak and join the escort so there will be the same number of guards as there were on my arrival. I saw Yu Dayong counting them as we left the city gate.”
“I can’t believe he suspects you!”
“I think it fits perfectly with his tendency to be excessively meticulous… He can find a needle in a haystack. I fear he will be the most difficult Tiger to take on, after Uncle Zhang.”
Shao Jun shuddered. Like many, she had been taken in by Yu Dayong’s simple-minded façade, so this remark reminded her that she should not underestimate him in future. She had to admit that the young man had consistently behaved as a true friend, even when they seemed destined to be sworn enemies. After all, the prince’s master was a close friend of Zhang Yong.
“Lord Pengju, I’d like to ask you a question,” she ventured.
“Go on.”
“Given his long friendship with Zhang Yong, might your master be angry that you’ve helped me, if he learns of it?”
“You forget that he is just as close to Wang Yangming! And besides, I’m able to make and take responsibility for my own decisions!”
Shao Jun was moved. She saw in the fiery gaze of the prince of Wei that he spoke with complete sincerity, and took her leave, untroubled by her previous concerns. She could be sure he wouldn’t betray her.
Xu Pengju felt strangely depressed as she left. He had never been refused anything in life, everyone around him always acceded to his every desire, but this time he would get no satisfaction. He had been fascinated by his guest both for her beauty and her martial arts skills, and it was for her sake alone that he had chosen to indirectly support Wang Yangming’s cause rather than that of Zhang Yong. Yet she remained frustratingly inaccessible despite growing closer over the few days they had spent together.
When the prince was depressed he liked to recite a line from a poem by Jiang Yan of the Song dynasty – “Alcohol relieves your sorrow and your heroism evaporates” – but for the first time, the poet’s words seemed vain and empty, powerless to soothe his melancholy.
Chapter 12
A hot, unsteady wind blew towards Tianzhou. For the southern borders, which only experienced a hot season and a cold season, the nuances of spring and autumn were unimaginable dreams. Yet the warm gust chilled Wang Shou to the depths of his being as he looked toward the forests.
Founded near the border with Annan16 by Emperor Tang Xuanzong, Tianzhou had always been the fief of the mandarins of the Cen family. Their first rebellion, which began in the fifteenth year of Hongzhi’s reign, ended with the death of their leader after three years of fighting against imperial troops. Then the remaining members of the clan rose up once more during the third and fourth years of Jiajing’s reign; their troops numbering twenty-four thousand men. When Advisor Yao Mou sent imperial representatives to the area to reclaim control of the region, the Tianzhou insurgents, with the help of Annan, raised an army of two hundred thousand men, in response to which the imperial troops were forced to beat a retreat.
16 An old name for Vietnam.
Wang Shou remained unsettled despite the victory. He knew he could count on the famous valor of the Wolves of Tianzhou, the local soldiers he led alongside Lu Su, but the Annan troops were a makeshift army of press-ganged peasants and vagrants who would die like flies against any battle-hardened opposition. The respite they had gained was only temporary, the central government would never leave the region to the rebels.
More educated than his comrade, Wang Shou had been deep in thought for what felt like hours. Was it possible to avoid the coming war? That question tormented him like no other.
His younger brother, Wang Zhen, interrupted to inform him that Lu Su was going to launch an attack against the imperial troops and needed his support. “What is wrong, big brother?” he said impatiently.
“Lady Wa leads some of the imperial troops.”
“What? She came all the way here?”
“Yes. The empire clearly wants to be certain of the outcome.”
After the leader of the Cens died during the first revolt, his son Meng had inherited his position as head of the clan. Then only nine years old, he placed himself under the protection of the Zhuang clan, which had the effect of reconciling Tianzhou and the empire, and thus pacifying the region for a time. To cement this alliance and reward the young man for his loyalty, the Zhuang chief gave his daughter, Wa Shi, meaning flower, in marriage.
Despite the femininity her name suggested, she tended to masculine pursuits. After the wedding she chose to be known as Wa, named for the varnished roof tiles whose strength and brilliance she claimed to possess. She bore Cen Meng an elder son, Bangzuo, but her husband chose Bangyan, another of his children with a concubine named Lin, as his successor.
A generation later, when Meng and Bangyan were both killed in a new revolt, running the city fell to the son of the latter. Cen Zhi was much too young to assume the position and Miss Lin was uneducated, so it was Lady Wa who used her intellect, charisma, and authority to take the situation in hand. Then, once the united armies of Lu Su and Wang Shou had taken possession of Tianzhou, she fled the city with the successor to protect him, when any number of less honorable women would have taken advantage of the situation to kill him in revenge – after all, Cen Zhi symbolized the injustice that had been dealt to her own child. Wang Shou himself respected the integrity and political skills of this woman to whom he once pledged allegiance. Her presence with the imperial army was worrying.
“Big brother,” Wang Zhen said quietly, “I fear war is inevitable.”
Wang Shou knew it. For him, Tianzhou’s sovereignty was non-negotiable, but the idea of sacrificing its troops and citizens to the Emperor’s armies repulsed him. It was why he refused to accept that the dice were already cast, and still hoped to find a bargaining chip with which to reopen negotiations. He nodded.
“If war is inevitable, we must ensure we keep our losses as few as possible.”
But the Wolves knew their terrain well, and their commanders knew how to exploit it to carry out numerous ambushes. No, the hardest part would not be limiting losses on their side, but ensuring they didn’t kill anyone too important in the opposite camp, to avoid falling into a war where a peaceful resolution was impossible.
•••
While the insurgents prepared to trap the imperial forces in a pincer movement, Wang Yangming was studying topographical maps of the region from the campaign quarters. The maps, too imprecise to be truly useful, showed impassible and difficult terrain with forests, mountains, and rivers.
“Lady Wa!” he called.
Sitting nearby, she quickly stood. Although she was a noble, she wore military uniform and carried a helmet decorated with an insignia attesting to her position.
“Yes, Mr Wang?”
“Please, sit. Do you know this Lu Su and Wang Shou who currently control the city?”
“Yes, they are both natives of Tianzhou. Lu Su’s daughter is married to my little brother, and I know Wang Shou personally.”
“How are they likely to act, in your opinion?”
“As if they have nothing to lose,” she answered hesitantly. “Lu Su is ambitious, Wang Shou cultivated, and they have never rebelled before… Their profile is different from the
sovereigntists we have dealt with in the past.”
“What you say is very true. To be precise, I think they are preparing to catch us with a surprise pincer attack. I saw flocks of birds flying up near our front lines – they must be moving significant numbers of troops there.”
His prediction was soon proven true as a cry of alarm rose from the vanguard deeper in the woods. Lady Wa shuddered at the thought that the imperial army, whose relentless charges across open ground were its greatest strength, would be completely caught off guard by this type of attack. But Wang Yangming remained unperturbed as he sat, visibly indifferent to the urgency of the situation.
“You’re right, Lady Wa,” he declared calmly, “those two are no ordinary rebels.”
Trained like a man in the practice and theory of martial arts, Lady Wa knew that the Wolves of Tianzhou were much more ferocious than the elite troops led by Wang Yangming. Did this scholar really understand what was happening right now? Once the defensive lines were broken, the entire army would rout, and they would have little chance of escape. She couldn’t remain silent.
