ATEG Chapter 119

The court hall erupted into chaos. The Sui Prime Minister had already been carried into a side hall, so the Yin envoy naturally could not press further on the matter of the imperial decree. The Sui King’s proclamation had been interrupted before it could continue.

The old daren had poured his heart and soul into Sui his whole life — he was already past ninety! His hair and eyebrows had gone completely white, and now he lay in the side hall yet to regain consciousness, surrounded by a ring of imperial physicians. How could anyone insist on continuing the court session? That would be utterly heartless!

The imperial physician examined Dantai Liu’s condition, and before he could speak, the officials crowding the side hall made a round of meaningful glances at him.

Those who rise to officialdom are all shrewd individuals. The physician remained unmoved, thinking to himself: even without those signals, I know what to do. The old daren was approaching a century of life. Though he seemed reasonably hale in his day-to-day, a man of his age could develop complications at any moment. For an imperial physician, the most important thing was to be measured and careful. If he were to declare the old daren perfectly fine, and then something later went wrong in treatment — what then?

The physician remained as steady as if he hadn’t noticed the frantic eye signals all around him, making everyone anxious and impatient. But when he finally spoke, he conveyed the gravest of implications in the most composed of tones. He didn’t utter a single overtly worrying word, yet somehow left everyone feeling that the situation was deeply dire — so much so that the very officials who had been signaling him now found themselves genuinely uncertain and alarmed. Could it be… that the Sui Prime Minister was truly in a bad way?

And so, the matter of dispatching troops to attack Lu was temporarily set aside.

Bie Chunian paid it little mind. In his view, Dantai Liu’s maneuver was nothing but a minor trick. At first, the old man had genuinely been struck by agitation and alarm and had nearly fainted — but he had recovered before he even hit the ground. Everything that followed — lying in the side hall, remaining apparently unconscious — was an act. The old Sui Prime Minister was vigorous in his old age, with a mind still agile and clear. Though he did not know what was going on with Ying Bufu, she had been on the verge of issuing a proclamation, and that absolutely could not be allowed to happen — so he feigned a collapse to buy time.

But the Sui King did not need the Sui Prime Minister’s presence to issue a decree.

Bie Chunian remained at Ying Bufu’s side. He had been frequenting the palace to meet with the Sui King these past days, and the palace staff had grown accustomed to him. They assumed he was deeply trusted by the Sui King — but Bie Chunian knew perfectly well that Ying Bufu had been on guard against him all along. Her suspicion of him had begun with the coincidence surrounding her headache ailment, and had grown when he refused her offer of reward.

He had declined an official post in Sui territory. An ordinary person might take this as the mark of a cultivator dedicated to his path, untempted by worldly wealth and rank. But in truth, if Bie Chunian held no position in Sui, the Sui King’s royal qi would have very limited hold over him — and this was precisely what had given Ying Bufu cause for doubt.

Bie Chunian was fully aware of all this. But what of it? He had no need to shackle himself in exchange for even a sliver of the Sui King’s trust. Ying Bufu had no choice but to walk the path he had laid for her. The medicine he had given her to suppress her headaches was perfectly fine — that was there for people to see openly, just as Ah Lu, whom Ying Bufu kept at her side, was there for people to see openly. The ones truly protecting the Sui King were others, hidden from view — which was precisely why Ying Bufu had dared to let Ah Lu leave her side.

Those few covert guards watching over her never ceased their vigilance for a single moment. Yet when the Yin Son of Heaven’s qi had surged through the hall, there had been a brief instant of confusion in the throne room. It was the perfect opportunity to take hold of the Sui King. Bie Chunian had been laying his preparations for a long time; it had taken only a few breaths, and afterward no one could detect anything unnatural about Ying Bufu. Then Dantai Liu had collapsed, and Ying Bufu had ordered attendants to carry him to a couch in the side hall and summoned physicians to examine him, expressing deep concern over his health. Through all of this, not a single person noticed anything amiss with the Sui King.

Everything Ying Bufu did was what she would have done of her own accord. She was still herself — only, in the matters where Bie Chunian wished to alter her thinking, her mind had been turned. Like one sunk in a dream, mistaking the false for the real.

If Dantai Liu wanted to feign unconsciousness, let him. He was no obstacle. But… Bie Chunian concealed his puzzlement and quietly observed the palace attendants around them. Why were they looking at him so strangely?

****

In the side hall, Dantai Liu opened his eyes. The physician looked him over once more, offered a few parting instructions, and then withdrew from the room with practiced discretion. Only Dantai Liu and a small circle of trusted officials remained.

“How are you feeling?” one of them leaned in and asked with concern. The others watched him with anxious eyes.

They were genuinely terrified of anything happening to Dantai Liu. The Sui kingdom was like a carriage rolling along a narrow mountain road, with cliffs on either side. The Sui King had been reliable in the past — a little idle these days, perhaps, but because she had always been sharp-minded, people had taken comfort in that. Today, it seemed, they had taken comfort too soon.

Of those with both sufficient rank and sufficient reliability, only the Sui Prime Minister remained — and if he too should falter…

Dantai Liu slowly looked around at the people gathered there. Quite a few of them were his students. In his youth, he had once dreamed of pursuing cultivation and roaming the world with a sword at his side — but he had not had the aptitude for it, so he had let it go, and devoted himself wholly to Sui. To tend and order an entire kingdom from the heights of the court — that, too, was a kind of wandering the world with a sword.

As the years passed and he read more deeply, things had become clearer to him. It was not that he lacked the talent for cultivation — it was that he lacked the heart for it. Cultivation demanded that one look upon the mortal world as a play and stand apart from it, while what he had longed for was to move within the mortal world, sword in hand. Unable to roam the world in a mortal’s body, he had settled that longing into the vessel of Sui. His years were long. Beginning from the grandfather of the old Sui King, then his father, then the old Sui King himself, then the young Sui King after the old King and the eldest prince had died suddenly, and now the current Sui King after the young King’s death — he had served through five reigns, and his students filled the land. Everyone called him a venerable old minister, but in truth this was no auspicious thing. The fact that he had endured through five reigns spoke to Sui’s instability; had the old Sui King not died so abruptly, he should still be on the throne now. Turbulence in Sui and instability in the Ying line had caused the seat of the Sui King to change hands again and again.

It was only when the succession came to Ying Bufu that things had at last steadied. But that stability could be shattered at any moment.

Dantai Liu exhaled a quiet sigh and rallied himself to confer urgently with those gathered around him. He could not afford to fall ill, could not afford to collapse — because it was the Sui King who was in danger.

Wuying Hall and Yongsheng Tower had been established through royal qi, and both were held in the Sui King’s hands. The Sui Prime Minister held the right to overturn royal decrees, but if Ying Bufu was truly intent on doing something, she could simply route it through Wuying Hall and bypass him entirely.

His collapse had brought the court session to an abrupt end — but that could only serve as a stopgap. If he remained seemingly unconscious indefinitely, people would simply push him aside and proceed without him. The Sui Prime Minister had to be awake and present; only if he was awake could he think of ways to block the campaign against Lu.

Dantai Liu spoke slowly, laying out the situation for those around him, making careful arrangements. Among them were several of his most gifted students. He was already nearing a full century of years, and the students he had taught over a lifetime were beyond counting. They looked to him as their pillar — but Dantai Liu himself could not guarantee a safe future. He had never uncovered the cause of the old Sui King’s and eldest prince’s sudden deaths; at the time, all his energy had gone toward holding Sui together, and he’d had no capacity to investigate. Afterward, he had let the moment pass and lost his chance. He had failed to prevent the young Sui King from being manipulated through his upbringing, which had ultimately led to the young King’s death. And now he did not understand the cause of Ying Bufu’s sudden transformation. He was only a mortal, after all.

His hope was that after this mortal’s years were spent, his students — his disciples — would be strong enough to bear the weight of Sui and hold it up.

When all the necessary arrangements had been made, Dantai Liu signaled that the others could take their leave, and closed his eyes to rest and recover his strength.

His last student to depart tiptoed around the screen, then couldn’t help glancing back one more time. The teacher was all right — he let out a breath of relief. But in that moment, looking at the old man reclining on the couch with his eyes closed, white hair disheveled from the earlier commotion, deep furrows carved into his face, and the backs of his hands mottled with age spots over raised dark veins —

Teacher… had grown old.

****

Midwinter month’s start — sell quilts, buy oxen; midwinter month’s middle — windy days, windy nights; midwinter month’s end — sell oxen, buy quilts.

This year, the Winter Solstice fell in the latter third of the month. A cold winter was what the people would face.

The Grand Historian had calculated the astronomical calendar well in advance, and following established custom, the Sui King began distributing gifts to all the noble households a full month ahead. Representatives from each household began arriving at the palace to offer thanks. The palace gates opened frequently, and people came and went in a steady stream — yet no one’s face wore any joy.

In the end, the Sui Prime Minister had been unable to hold out against the Sui King’s will. The royal decree ordering the campaign against Lu had been issued. Troops were being sharpened and provisions amassed throughout the land. Corresponding orders had gone out from Wuying Hall as well. Where local officials in the various towns and cities lingered and hesitated upon receiving the royal decree, the cultivators registered with Wuying Hall mostly moved with swift and decisive force — as if they were more loyal to the royal decree than the locally-posted officials of Sui.

But this was an illusion.

In a war between Sui and Lu, regardless of who won, Sui would only be depleted. Sui territory did not belong solely to the Sui King — it belonged to the people of Sui. Only those who genuinely loved this land would recognize the problem with the Sui King’s decree and seek by every means to resist it. But for the cultivators gathered in Wuying Hall from all corners of the world, their relationship with Sui was through the Sui King, and their relationship with the Sui King was like that of a merchant and hired escorts. The hired escorts received their wages from the merchant and followed the merchant’s instructions. Whether those instructions would bring profit or loss to the merchant was no concern of theirs. And if the merchant’s fortune collapsed, or if they were called to face dangers far exceeding their pay, they would simply leave.

Wuying Hall was a sharp instrument in the nation’s arsenal. When wielded by a wise and capable ruler, it let her act without restraint and cut a path forward for Sui. But in the hands of a muddled and incompetent ruler, this unchecked instrument swinging wildly would only wound Sui itself.

The Sui Prime Minister had no other recourse left. He did one final thing.

****

“This old minister wishes to request an audience with the Sui King.” Dantai Liu stood outside the palace hall, grave-faced and properly dressed, blocked at the outer steps by the guards.

The weighty bearing of a minister who had served five reigns settled over him heavy as a mountain. Framed by his snow-white hair, there was something uncompromising about him — a finality in his bearing. Several stout and vigorous guards, facing this old man who no longer had the strength to wring a chicken’s neck, found themselves sweating despite themselves.

One of them gave a quiet signal, and another guard slipped away from an unobtrusive corner at a quick pace. The remaining guards held the steps, watching Dantai Liu with taut unease. They were not afraid the old daren would force his way inside — not even ten Dantai Lius together could manage that. What they feared was that the old daren intended to remonstrate unto death.

Who did not know how much effort the Sui Prime Minister had expended these past days trying to block a single royal decree, yet failing again and again against the Sui King’s stubborn insistence? If the old daren had reached the end of every road, and were to dash his head against the steps in final remonstrance…

Dantai Liu stood in the cold wind, both hands tucked into his sleeves and raised in a formal salute before his chest, his gaze fixed long and unblinking on the shut palace doors, as though his eyes could pass straight through them.

The guards at the steps urged him with anxious care. “Daren, please do not wait here any longer. The wind is sharp, and standing in the cold is no good for you. Please go to the side hall and have a cup of hot tea to warm yourself. We will go and announce you — if Her Majesty summons you, we will come and fetch you immediately.”

Dantai Liu shook his head slowly. His years were great, and he had been burning through his vital reserves these past days. Standing in the cold wind, his lips had gone frighteningly pale.

The guards were just working themselves into a state of quiet dread when the palace doors suddenly opened. Ah Lu came out at a quick step.

“Is Her Majesty summoning this old minister into the hall?” Dantai Liu asked.

Ah Lu shook her head apologetically, moving to invite him to rest in the side hall.

Dantai Liu declined. He appeared as calm as ever. “I have a few words I would like to say to Miss Ah Lu.”

Ah Lu nodded. “Please speak, daren.”

Dantai Liu briefly outlined the recent events at court in a few concise sentences, making clear that the Sui King’s order to attack Lu was a disordered command. Ah Lu listened with incomplete understanding, her brow gradually knitting. She had no interest in court affairs, yet even she could hear that something here was wrong.

Dantai Liu looked at her steadily. “This is not a command the Sui King would give.”

Ah Lu’s heart gave a jolt. But Dantai Liu had already turned toward the hall in a parting bow, then turned and boarded his carriage.

The guards at the steps let out a collective breath of relief. That such an elderly man would stand in the dead of winter to request an audience with the Sui King on behalf of the kingdom’s affairs — they could not help but feel a deep respect, and remarked to one another. “The old daren has no other way, so he could only entrust his words to the young lady, to pass on to the Sui King as a word of counsel.”

Was that so? Ah Lu stood there with her brow tightly furrowed.

The look in the old daren’s eyes just now had not been that of a man in dejected defeat. Those eyes had been far too calm and clear-seeing for that…

Ah Lu turned and went back into the hall. A middle-aged man with half-grey hair came rushing up to the palace steps behind her. He had come following the guard who had run out earlier, and he was sweating through his hair in the middle of winter from the effort of running. When he arrived to find the steps empty, his legs nearly gave out beneath him.

A guard stepped forward to receive him. “Dantai daren.” This one was also surnamed Dantai — a late-born son of the Sui Prime Minister, now himself past fifty.

“My father—” Dantai Zeng gasped.

The guard hastened to reassure him. “The old daren is perfectly well — he has already taken his carriage and gone.”

Dantai Zeng sagged with relief. He had heard from the guard who came to fetch him that his father was outside the Sui King’s hall and might be intending to remonstrate unto death. Arriving to find the steps bare, he had feared his father had already been carried off for medical attention. He clasped his hands in thanks to the guard, then, once his breathing steadied somewhat, went to catch up with his father’s carriage.

Palace carriages moved at a slow pace, and his father had only just left. He actually managed to catch up — but catching up left the man past fifty gasping badly enough that his face had taken on a slightly greenish tinge. Dantai Liu had him climb in and poured a bowl of hot ginger broth down him — there was a large copper vessel kept warm in the carriage, its lower compartment lined with charcoal. Once Dantai Zeng had recovered somewhat, he looked at his father and couldn’t help staring — his father had just reached into each of his two great sleeves and produced a small hand warmer from each, and was now opening his robes to fish out a third from around his waist.

Noticing his son had come around, Dantai Liu called to him. “Come help me get this one off — it’s scalding me half to death!”

The hand warmer had been tied on tightly, wrapped in several layers of cotton padding, and pressed flat under his heavy official robes — utterly invisible from the outside, though it may have made him look a touch stouter than usual. Or perhaps one might put it down to elder’s bloat. Dantai Zeng’s mind began to drift now that the tension had left him.

He helped his father remove the hand warmers, and asked in a low voice, “Father… you went and remonstrated with the Sui King while carrying all of this?”

Dantai Liu shot him a look. “In a weather this cold, what was I supposed to do — freeze to death? If not for the barrier formations inside the palace, I’d have stuck on a few talismans as well; those keep an even better temperature, and I wouldn’t have had to suffer through the scalding.”

“I thought… I thought…” Dantai Zeng couldn’t quite bring himself to finish, but relief loosened him from the inside. His father could go and remonstrate before the Sui King with three hand warmers packed under his robes, which meant he definitely hadn’t been planning to die. His father was more warmly bundled up than he was!

“You thought I was going to remonstrate unto death?” Dantai Liu said.

Dantai Zeng nodded, cradling the hand warmers his father had removed to warm his own hands. He had dressed in a hurry when the guard came to find him, without putting on much in the way of outer layers.

Dantai Liu regarded his son with exasperated resignation. “Is the order the Sui King issued a sane one?”

Dantai Zeng shook his head.

“So if she’s already not herself, would my dying in remonstrance have accomplished anything?”

Dantai Zeng shook his head again.

“Then why on earth would I remonstrate unto death?” He’d have been throwing his life away for nothing. Was he stupid?

Dantai Zeng accepted the scolding humbly, then asked, “So what did you go for?”

If even dying in remonstrance was pointless, a regular remonstrance certainly wouldn’t work either. So what was the point of this whole trip?

Dantai Liu looked into the distance, his eyes carrying a depth that was hard to read. “This trip of mine…” He shook his head and said no more.

This trip had not been to see the Sui King. It had been to see Ah Lu. He felt that the young woman was not merely an ornament Ying Bufu kept by her side — the Sui King genuinely trusted her. For a long time now, Ah Lu had almost never been asked to leave when they deliberated on matters of state, and besides, given Ying Bufu’s intelligence, she should not have been entirely unprepared for what was happening today. If she had anticipated it, she would have made some provision for it.

Dantai Liu turned over the details of his last meeting with the Sui King in his mind, and let out a long breath. He could only hope he had not guessed wrong.

Old man that he was, with nowhere left to turn — the one final thing he could still do was prompt her to save herself.

****

Ah Lu returned to the hall. Warm, pungent incense drifted through the air — not thick. The Sui King’s headaches had seemed to ease somewhat in recent days, and the incense pellets were not being used as frequently.

Ying Bufu lay reclined on the couch with her eyes closed. Beside her, an old qin player drew slow, flowing music from the strings — like the gentle sound of a brook.

Ah Lu slipped quietly to Ying Bufu’s side, as she always did, and began combing through her hair with her fingers.

“The old daren has left?” Ying Bufu asked.

Ah Lu answered softly, “He told me that the royal decree you issued recently is wrong.”

“What exactly did he say?” Ying Bufu asked.

Ah Lu started to relay it; Ying Bufu cut her off, her voice listless. “Never mind. It’s nothing but the same old words.”

Ah Lu said nothing. What she had been about to relay was not the first part of what the old daren had told her — the part laying out the court events — but the second part, where he had told her the campaign against Lu was a disordered command. The first part had been to inform her of what had happened; the second part was what needed to be passed on to the Sui King. Yet those words had already been spoken to the Sui King before, and the Sui King had not been moved by them. The old daren knew this as well — so why have her repeat them once more? And if the old daren’s purpose had been to send a message to the Sui King, why had he first taken the time to explain the court events to her?

Ah Lu recalled exactly how the old daren had spoken to her. He had said he had words he wished to say to her — not that he had words he wished to have relayed to the Sui King.

Ah Lu might have no interest in court affairs, but she was not foolish. She thought: the old daren had not come to use her as a messenger between himself and the Sui King. He had come to teach her. First, he had taught her what had happened. Then he had taught her that the campaign against Lu was without a single benefit and filled with harm. And finally — she recalled the last thing the old daren had said to her, and her heart grew heavy: “This is not a command the Sui King would give.”

“Your Majesty,” Ah Lu said quietly to Ying Bufu, “the old daren says your royal decree is wrong. Why did you issue the order to attack Lu?”

“You need not concern yourself with such matters. Do not ask further.” Ying Bufu said.

She did not reproach Ah Lu; her tone remained even. Yet Ah Lu’s heart went cold.

The Sui King had never kept court affairs hidden from her. The Sui King had even, at times, made a deliberate effort to teach her — it was only that Ah Lu herself had never wished to learn. She had felt it was not her place; her only duty was to remain at the Sui King’s side.

Ah Lu’s expression stayed unchanged, her hands continuing their steady, rhythmic work through Ying Bufu’s hair. If the Sui King would not let her ask, she would ask nothing. She waited until Ying Bufu had drifted off to sleep, then slipped out of the hall quietly and went straight for Yongsheng Tower at a run.

“…If one day you find that something is wrong with me — go find Mister Xue and have him killed.”

She kept the words the Sui King had entrusted to her firmly in mind.

The palace gates stood wide open, welcoming those who had received Winter Solstice gifts from the noble families in recent days and were now coming to offer their thanks. Some visits were purely for the formality of thanks; others brought things along — scroll paintings and calligraphy, or rare and clever objects; some even brought unusual individuals with them, to offer the Sui King an entertaining display.

Changpu had followed behind one such group arriving to offer thanks. She had entered as an unusual performer being presented to the Sui King — she had passed inspection at the palace gates before being allowed inside, and any objects that might function as dharmic instruments were forbidden from being brought in.

Changpu followed behind the man who had brought her in. She appeared utterly unremarkable, drawing no attention whatsoever — yet inwardly, she was far from as calm as she appeared. Her current actions were, by any measure, reckless. Bie Chunian’s capabilities were beyond what she could hope to contend with, and if she were discovered, she would have virtually no capacity for resistance. This was not the plan she and Yang Cang had originally devised, but they had run out of time for careful preparation. The Sui King’s decree ordering the campaign against Lu had already stood for some time, and if something wasn’t done to stop it soon, it would be too late — so they had no choice but to act and take the risk.

The man who had brought her into the palace was still murmuring last-minute instructions on how best to please the Sui King. He was a minor official, hoping to make some impression on the Sui King, and he was particularly fixated on this point — he had already gone over it more than once before they entered, and now that they were actually inside the palace walls, his nerves had gotten the better of him and he was going over it again and again. The palace attendant escorting them forward behaved as though she heard nothing, leading the two of them forward with serene composure.

Changpu listened quietly. Then the minor official suddenly went silent. She sensed that both the official and the attendant had stopped walking. She was just wondering why, when she heard the attendant’s voice offering a respectful greeting. “Bie Zhenren.”

Changpu’s heart clenched. She had not sensed another person approaching from ahead.

The minor official had already plastered on a smile and was making conversation. He wanted to make a favorable impression on this Bie Zhenren, who had so recently become a favorite of the Sui King’s, yet he was also afraid of being too forward and earning his dislike — so he hovered and offered a few polished pleasantries before retreating.

Bie Chunian’s ink-black hair held two threads of white at his temples. He had the bearing of someone touched by the divine, carrying a natural air of refinement, and he had no particular airs about him either — he responded to the minor official’s flattery with easy composure.

Changpu’s eyes could not see, yet even her keen perception had detected no awareness of Bie Chunian’s presence. It was only when she heard him speak that she knew there truly was a person standing there. She had spent all this time listening to Yang Cang emphasize Bie Chunian’s unfathomable depths, and Changpu had never allowed herself to underestimate him — yet now, confronting Bie Chunian in person for the first time, she caught the barest glimmer of how truly terrifying he was. She raised her guard in her heart, yet her expression did not change. Her breathing and heartbeat stayed even; her body remained relaxed.

Bie Chunian and the minor official exchanged only a few brief words, after which they parted ways. The palace attendant resumed leading them forward. Changpu followed the two of them and lifted her foot to walk on. Bie Chunian, too, moved in the direction he had originally been headed, passing them by.

Inwardly, Changpu quietly exhaled.

Then, from behind her, Bie Chunian’s voice came:

“Wait a moment.”