by Jeremy Han
Li Jing, the Acrobat, opened a window and looked at the countryside rolling by. They passed through a village, and the familiar looking houses brought back memories to the Acrobat. He had grown up in a village just like that. He had learnt his martial arts at a village yard similar to the one he just passed. He took refuge in communities exactly like that during his years as a fugitive with his young daughter Li Po, and the place was like a little treasure box filled with memories. Once opened, there were so many things to find.
His eyes savoured the sight of a green padi field, ripe with the autumn harvest. The rice planting went through various stages. At the earlier stage, the fields were filled with water and skinny, yellowish stalks poked out of the water like scrawny fingers. Closer to harvest, they turned a rich green as the grain matured, as they had now. The wind blew and sent a ripple across the verdant field. Like a wave, the green stalks bowed as the wind moved over it like royalty, and Li stared at the endless green, moving with the wind and felt a pang of longing.
I’m home.
The carriage exited the village and sped down a road lined with yellowing gingko trees. Their towering branches, filled with golden leaves stood out against the blue, cloudless, autumn sky. The wind blew, and scores of the golden leaves started to fall like gold flakes, some landing on the roof of the bland carriage and giving it a nice sprinkling of bright yellow, like gold dust from heaven. Oblivious to the beauty of nature the driver cracked his whip. He had an appointment to keep and he could not be late, and the carriage belonging to the Dong Chang sped off along the winding road.
After a long ride the carriage drew to a halt in front of a big house. High, white, stately walls ringed the villa inside. A lark sitting on the wall sang sweetly as though it was pleased to see the visitors. The men disembarked the carriage and stretched as Zhao’s eyes took in the anomalies immediately.
There were no lanterns hanging at the gate to tell what clan the house belonged to. There were also no guards and dense bamboo forest surrounded the compound. A casual glance revealed that the building sat on a hill, and a distance away down the slope there was a small village. His tactical mind processed all these facts and came to the conclusion that the location was deliberately selected to ensure a simultaneous, massed attack on all fronts could not be mounted. Potential attackers were left with only one option: the sturdy front gates. He was sure that somewhere in the villa there was a tunnel that led to the distant village, so that the occupants would never be trapped.
Stealing a glance at Ji Gang his mind returned to the fight they had had inside the palace of a marquis fifteen years ago to rescue Li Po. Strange now that he was entering an unknown compound with the man who had been his enemy for so many years, and knowing that he and Li could easily be walking into a well-laid trap. His gut tensed.
A man opened the door from the inside, and behind them the carriage sped off. Nobody said a word as they entered the compound, and the attendant bowed as Ji Gang approached. Although he dressed like a servant his alert eyes and body posture told Zhao that the man was highly skilled. He stretched out his hand and Ji Gang obediently handed over his iron fan. The Acrobat stole a glance at Zhao, and Zhao nodded. He had noticed it too. Ji Gang would never part with his iron fan, his secret weapon, under ordinary circumstances.
As they walked into the courtyard he noticed other ‘servants’ were observing them. There was a man standing behind the rock formation in the garden pretending to sweep the floor, partially blocked by the block of granite that resembled a mountain situated in the middle of a square filled with small, white pebbles. Another looked like he was trimming some bonsai plants. Their eyes locked onto the two new visitors like hawks.
A Dong Chang safe house, Zhao guessed.
Ji Gang noticed his guests tensing. “They are not Eastern Depot men.”
“Who are they then?” Zhao asked as the Acrobat kept his eyes fixed on them.
“They are Jinyi Wei ‘Imperial bodyguards’. They control this villa.”
It all fit. The empress dowager would be meeting them here.
Ji Gang spoke again. “They have rooms for you with baths prepared. Get some rest. Your weapons will be kept until her Majesty has left again.
“When will she come?”
“Midnight. Before she arrives, my men will brief us on their investigations.”
34
A steward led the two ex-imperial bodyguards to their quarters, where two huge wooden bathing tubs sat next to each other. The tubs were new, and the wood smelt sweetly of pine. Steam rose lazily off the surface of the clear water like a whispered invitation. A wooden table sat between the tubs, and on it a white-glazed porcelain pot waited with two empty cups. A rice paper screen blocked the windows, obstructing the view yet allowing cool wind to enter and ventilate the steam bath room. The water was almost odourless except for a faint whiff of mineral sulphur, and Zhao and Li stripped and left their clothes by a wooden table before entering the bath tubs slowly. They sighed audibly as the hot liquid eased their discomfort like a mother’s embrace.
“Too old to travel,” The Acrobat murmured.
“At least we are being taken care of,” Zhao replied with his eyes closed. Believing they were alone, he spoke his mind. “Something’s not right.”
“What?”
“This whole place, the whole set up.”
“We are holed up in the middle of a semi-fortress, with Jinyi Wei all over,” The Acrobat said, prompting Zhao to reveal what was hidden behind the obvious.
“It’s got nothing to do with Ji Gang,” Zhao clarified.
“Then?” Li opened his eyes, eyebrows rising in query.
“I can’t place it,” Zhao confessed. “Just that feeling I always get before a fight.”
Li slowly dipped his head into the water, allowing the heat to ease the pounding in his head before he broke surface again. “I know what you mean,” he replied softly. The practitioner of the Monkey Fist was still lean despite his age. His body was marked by angry pink scars, especially in the spots where arrows almost took his life fifteen years ago. He had rescued the Jian Wen emperor then, but ironically it was the emperor-monk who had saved him at the last minute. He cracked his knuckles in frustration and it echoed throughout the room.
At the same time Ji Gang sat as still as a rock on the balcony in his room. The afternoon was ending and the clouds were coming in, filling the valley like a greyish white sea all the way to the horizon. He listened without interruption as Meng Da reported his findings. He gave his conclusions on the murder of the general, including his suspicion that poison had somehow been used, as well as the mystery of the yinsu hua, the drug that causes hallucinations and weakened muscles.
“Ahem.” Zhao Qi and Li Jing waited patiently for their host to acknowledge them. “It is time we hear about the case.”
“Sit,” he growled. Servants brought in several chairs and tea, and the men sat, ready to discuss the matter at hand.
Zhao broke the silence. “So you say the victim is the General of the Eastern Command?”
“Yes.”
All of them knew what that meant. The army of the region could not move without his seal. It meant that all military power temporarily fell into the hands of the grand commandant at Nanjing – the Grand Eunuch Liu Ning.
“If the rumour of Zhu Wenkui raising a rebellion is true, then the murder of the general could only mean one thing. It was a plan to paralyse the military so that the rebels would fight a headless army.”
“Liu Ning could still command very effectively,” The Acrobat contributed. Liu Ning was a very capable man, and his reputation was known.
“What if Liu is the next victim?” Meng offered.
Ji Gang was aware of Liu’ reputation as an outstanding eunuch officer. “The Grand Commandant will have reached this conclusion too and have taken precautions.” He turned towards the men and said icily, “At least the Grand Eunuch can’t get caught with his pants down in a brothel.”
&nb
sp; The men broke out in uneasy laughter.
“There is something else to fill you in,” Meng interjected. “There is a drug used in Hangzhou that may shed light on the murder.” He shared the information he extracted from the thugs he killed.
“Say that again?” Ji Gang asked in shock. The last point added another piece of the jigsaw in the commander’s mind.
“Eunuchs.” After some hesitation he continued. “The whole operation and supply of the flower was linked to the eunuchs from the imperial palace.”
Zhao leaned forward. This was new to him. “What flower is that?”
“Yinsu hua.”
The Acrobat frowned. “I have heard of it during my travels across the country. It is sold by merchants who come from the western regions. It renders people weak with hallucinations.”
“That must be the only way he could have been defeated,” Zhao mused aloud.
Ji Gang glanced at the men and muttered, “That makes sense. I have never believed the nonsense about the ‘woman with many hands’. I have seen too much over the years in the imperial service to think that a general would be killed by a demoness in a brothel.”
Meng took up the discussion. “This gives us a probable means – drugging the mighty general to weaken him. And a probable reason – so that Zhu Wenkui’s uprising would be unhindered."
"So the next thing to do is to speak to the Grand Commandant of Nanjing,” Zhao said, continuing the train of thought and speaking as though his enmity with the Eastern Depot did not exist. Professionalism had taken over hostility.
“We can only do that after we have met the Empress Dowager right? And before we get to that we still have a missing piece of puzzle we have not yet found. We have not heard anything about the investigation into Zhu Wenkui.”
Ji Gang fumed, saying, “That’s because my man Yong Ju has not reported in yet.”
"Yong Ju?" Zhao asked. “Your young protégé?”
“Yes. He is one of the few whom your men did not manage to kill fifteen years ago.”
35
“Wang Zhen.”
The young eunuch turned with as much grace as he could muster. “Yes, your Majesty?” he asked.
“You look sick," she replied. "Are you unwell?” Her tone was neutral but her eyes bore through his.
He hesitated. It was not every day the ruler of an empire asked about the welfare of a slave. “Majesty, the boat ride. I believe it made me queasy.”
“I see. Get some rest when we get to our destination.” With that little comment, her interest in his welfare vaporised.
That’s if the little emperor allows me, he thought.
Throughout the journey on the imperial barge, sailing down the Grand Canal from Beijing to Suzhou, the boy-emperor had asked his body slave to entertain him with endless songs and games. They ran around the boat, done countless drawings, recited numerous poems and he had answered almost a million questions that came out of the bottomless pit that was the inquisitive mind of a boy. Some of the questions were of surprising intellect, while some were unbelievably childish, and some were just plain repeats. In a way, Wang envied the boy. At least you have someone to answer your ‘whys’. All he remembered of his own childhood was endless hunger, the feeling of being rejected by his own parents, and then the intense, white-hot pain of castration.
They had just arrived at the major south eastern city of Suzhou via the great waterway that sustained the empire the way an artery keeps a body alive. The Grand Canal had gone through extensive renovation during the reign of the Yong Le emperor, who had deployed one hundred sixty five thousand workers to dredge the canal, enabling it to transport grain more efficiently. At any time there were almost twelve thousand grain carriers plying the busy waterway, and an entire army of almost one hundred twenty thousand soldiers manned the transportation system. It was the busiest transportation route in the Ming that brought prosperity to many, as well as keeping the dry northern regions well-fed from the fertile southern farms.
The empress dowager walked off the gangway when the imperial barge had docked. Her long, elegant black and gold dress covered her legs, and she looked like she was gliding over the ground instead of walking. Two carriages were waiting for them. One carried her bodyguards, while the other her entourage. Her son, the boy emperor, followed cheerfully, happy to embark on the second leg of his adventure neither knowing, nor caring, why the trip had been made in the first place.
The young eunuch patiently urged his royal charge to move along, making sure he would not fall or trip, but the precocious child was filled with excitement and wanted to run off to examine the two brown horses harnessed in front of the carriages. However, these carriages were not painted in the bright imperial yellow that signified to everyone who the passenger was. They were travelling incognito, and the carriages were painted a rich, deep brown instead. For this journey, disguise was their best defence and the carriages looked like one's made for a wealthy merchant.
Wang ran after the young boy as he ran ahead. “Majesty, come back!” the hapless eunuch cried out, but the boy’s footsteps drowned out the eunuch’s cry.
“Zhu Qizhen! Stop it!” his mother demanded as her eyes flared. Her tone brokered no nonsense. Her's was a voice that could command an empire to kneel, and the boy lowered his head as he returned to the caring arms of the eunuch, who comforted him immediately when tears started rolling down his rosy cheeks. The empress dowager stepped into her carriage, and the boy and his servant followed. They settled into the lush cushion comfortably, and the vehicle moved off with a lurch. They could hear the soft crunch of the wheels running over gravel, and behind them the other non-descript carriage filled with Jinyi Wei followed.
Suzhou was a bustling city, and the carriages made their way through busy streets filled with people going about all kinds of business. Their movement slowed due to the traffic, allowing the empress dowager to watch the life going on.
My subjects….
The awesome responsibility she held as monarch became flesh and blood. Her every decision affected their lives, and she watched with fascination at the myriad of activities going on. Simple things captivated her as she realised how detached she had become with the world. Living within the greatest fortified palace in the world made her forget that beyond its walls an entire universe existed. She had forgotten what street hawkers looked like, or how fun it was to shop for new titbits.
She smiled unconsciously at a memory of her father buying her candy when she was little, before her feet had been broken and bound so that she would have a better life as a concubine. She longed for those days when she followed her father to the markets. Among her prized possessions, kept in the box with the jewels presented on her wedding day from the emperor, there was an old faded rag doll. Her father had bought it for her with his meagre earnings from a street hawker like the one she saw now, but since then there had only been pain, her constant companion. Pain reminded her how far she had gone from her past.
“Stop the carriage,” she said suddenly. Wang relayed her order, and the vehicle ground to a halt. “Open the door, and stay here with his Majesty,” she commanded.
Wang took a second before he obeyed her strange command. “Yes, Majesty.”
She stepped out, and walked towards a crowd of people surrounding a kneeling girl. A fat man stood next to the girl, who was dressed in white, and shouted triumphantly as she wept.
“She’s mine! Mine to do with as I please!”
The crowd roared their disapproval, but could do nothing. The man had thugs with him. The girl continued crying and the empress dowager took in the situation.
The peasant girl’s father passed away and she could not afford to give him a burial. She had sold herself to the fat man as a slave, but before she went with him she had asked to bury her father first, but he refused and had hit her before the crowd intervened. Filial piety was important enough to force her to sell her own body, but it was crucial that she should bury her father first.
> One of the thugs hauled her, screaming, to her feet. He slapped her again, and the crowd surged forward angrily. This time his thugs beat them back with sticks.
“Stop!” the empress dowager said as she stepped out of the crowd and walked confidently towards the gangsters and their boss. The fat man opened his mouth to curse her, but something in her bearing stopped him. Her expensive clothing, her small steps and the way her eyes shone, everything about her spoke of power. The authority radiating from her had an effect on everyone, and they all stopped and watched this lady step in front of the violent gang, mesmerised. Everyone stared at this mysterious, majestic lady, and even the peasant girl stopped wailing.
“What is the problem here?” her majesty asked calmly, although she was fully aware of it.
“None of your business, you bitch!” yelled the fat man. His thugs took a step forward, freezing when her bodyguards appeared and put their hands on the pommels of their sabres. They might not have been in uniform, but nothing could hide the demeanour of these dangerous, elite warriors. If they were not travelling undercover they would have executed him on the spot for calling the emperor’s mother a ‘bitch’. The image of two strong bodyguards pulling each hand apart and forcing the gangster to kneel while another guard raised his sabre above the neck brought a cold smile onto her face. The man gulped as he realised he might be in trouble.
“Who are you?” he rasped.
She ignored him, and took a step forward. Her voice was elegant but cold, like jade. “It’s only about money isn’t it?" she asked. "Why do you need to crush her soul just to prove to your sorry self how powerful you are? Let her do what she needs to do. She has already given herself to you. What more do you want?”
“Stay out of this!" he snarled, "You are not from this city, I can tell. You do not know who I am!”
She laughed. “Then all the more I want to interfere.” Then, turning serious, she added, “I will take the girl with me. But because I am a fair person, I will compensate you.” She threw a few pieces of silver at him as though he was a beggar and her long, red finger nails flashed as her hand moved. She gave him a contemptuous look.
