The Dunhuang county office was also within the inner city, not far from the Prefectural Office. Since Xuanzang needed to examine the old case files from the Wude ninth year, Yuzao specifically arranged for the Recording Secretary Cao Cheng to accompany him.

The position of Recording Secretary that Cao Cheng held was the very same post that Lv Sheng had once occupied. It carried a peculiar weight within the prefecture — though it was merely a senior post of the first tier of the eighth rank, its authority was immense. Not only were the six bureaus of the prefecture subject to his oversight and censure, but the officials of subordinate counties were also bound by his checks. The court’s administrative statutes stated explicitly: “Whether a prefecture thrives or declines, whether its six bureaus flourish or wither, all depends upon this man.” Cao Cheng was one of Wang Junke’s trusted subordinates, and he immediately escorted Yuzao to the county office, summoning the County Judicial Secretary — the official responsible for adjudicating punishments, supervising arrests, and apprehending bandits — and ordering him to retrieve the case files. The Judicial Secretary dared not be negligent. He promptly went to the archive room where the files were stored, rummaged through them, and had two junior clerks carry them over.

Cao Cheng waved the clerks away and helped Xuanzang spread out the files right there in the Six Bureau offices, explaining them one by one.

The murder had taken place on the nineteenth day of the eighth month of the Wude ninth year, at the hour of Xu — dusk — precisely when the closing drum sounded and the night curfew began. The Great Tang enforced a night prohibition. After the closing drum, the gates of each ward were shut. People could move freely within their own ward but were forbidden from walking the streets outside. From Chang’an to every prefecture and county, street-patrol officers were stationed to make their rounds. Anyone caught out would receive twenty strokes of the rod.

For those with official business, a wedding, or a matter of illness or death, one needed only to obtain a pass document at the Ward Patrol Post on the corner of the ward to have the ward gate opened and to walk freely in the streets. Tang people most often held their wedding processions at dusk, and the precise hour was determined by the calculation of the couple’s birth characters.

“At the time, the streets were empty. After Linghu Zhan had arrived at the Rufu Ward to escort the bride from the Zhai family’s residence, the wedding procession made its way north along Ganquan Avenue. At the crossroads of Xiuren Ward and Daxian Ward, the Kui Wood Wolf suddenly leapt down from the top of a ward wall and charged into the procession, slaughtering more than ten people before crashing into the bridal sedan.”

Cao Cheng pulled out a page from the file. “This is a transcript from a witness at the time, who stated that the Kui Wood Wolf smashed through the ornamental canopy atop the bridal sedan, snatched the bride, and soared into the sky. At a height of more than ten zhang, it ran through empty air and ultimately vanished into the depths of the heavens.”

Xuanzang and Li Chan exchanged a glance with Yuzao. Recalling the scene at the Mogao Caves, they could not help but feel their hearts tremble.

“Where were Linghu Zhan and Zhai Shu at the time?”

Xuanzang asked.

Cao Cheng picked up a transcript. “The county office did not dare summon the two men to make statements, so they questioned the servants of both households instead. According to them, Linghu Zhan was knocked from his horse by the Kui Wood Wolf and fell momentarily unconscious. By the time Zhai Shu, impeded by the crowd, managed to reach the bridal sedan, the Kui Wood Wolf had already abducted Zhai Wen.”

Xuanzang picked up a coroner’s examination report and read it carefully. “Male corpse: An Silang, age thirty-five, height five chi four cun. Found prostrate in the street, lying face upward. Bruising at the left corner of the forehead, abrasions on the elbows. Three cun above the right side of the neck: a laceration, three cun long and one and a half cun deep. The wound is straight, elongated, fine, and smooth. The jugular vein was severed.”

“A laceration?”

Xuanzang was puzzled. “If the blood vessel in the neck was severed, why is it recorded as a laceration? Secretary Cao, please help this humble monk summon the coroner who certified this examination report.”

The coroner’s name was recorded on the report. Cao Cheng immediately ordered the Judicial Secretary to call the coroner forth. The coroner, surnamed Zhang, was around fifty years of age. He looked more like an old farmer who had spent half his life laboring in the fields. He stood in the room, hunched and timid.

“Old sir,” Xuanzang said with a smile, pointing at the examination report. “What is a laceration?”

The coroner lowered his head. “It is a wound caused by tearing from a sharp implement or a hard object.”

“What is the difference between the wound of a tear and the wound of a sharp implement?”

Xuanzang asked.

“The edges of a sharp implement wound are even and clean, while a tear wound…”

The coroner opened his mouth but did not know how to answer.

“The wound is straight, elongated, fine, and smooth — its edges clean and even. If this is indeed a wound from a sharp implement, why does the certified examination report describe it as a laceration?”

Xuanzang asked in a calm, unhurried tone.

The coroner broke out in a cold sweat, his entire body trembling.

“There is also this one.” Xuanzang picked up another examination report. “This female corpse sustained a penetrating wound to the abdomen, the wound measuring two cun and three fen in width…”

The coroner suddenly flung himself to his knees and kowtowed frantically, again and again, each knock resounding with a heavy thud, until his forehead was soon streaming with blood. The man had completely collapsed inwardly, yet he dared not speak — he only continued to kowtow.

“Old sir, why must you do this to yourself!”

Xuanzang was greatly startled. He and Li Chan hastened to pull the man back to his feet.

The coroner dared not look at him. Choking sobs escaped his lips, tears and mucus streaming down his face.

Xuanzang sighed in quiet sorrow. “Old sir, you may go now. This humble monk will have a word with Secretary Cao, and I will ensure this matter does not implicate you.”

“My thanks to the Holy Monk!”

The coroner wept from his knees on the ground, then scrambled to his feet in a desperate hurry and fled in panic.

“Venerable monk—”

Yuzao was about to speak, but Xuanzang raised a hand.

“There is no need to examine further. Seventeen people died. Only six were mauled and bitten by a beast. The rest were killed by sharp blades.”

A weariness settled over Xuanzang.

“Killed by sharp blades!”

Li Chan was shocked. “Why would anyone want to kill them?”

“After the Kui Wood Wolf departed, the street patrol arrived in less than a quarter of an hour. Given that, the killers were most likely Linghu Zhan and Zhai Shu.”

Xuanzang turned this over in his mind for a long time. “But why would they slaughter their own people and frame the Kui Wood Wolf? Was it to silence witnesses? Did Linghu Zhan and Zhai Shu exchange words with the Kui Wood Wolf at some point? Or was the bride Zhai Wen also somehow entangled in this? In any case, the statements in these records are incomplete and untrue. What the survivors claimed — it is simply not the truth of what happened that year.”

“What is the truth?”

Yuzao asked urgently.

Xuanzang glanced at her. “A hundred years from now, however these documents record it — that will be the truth.”

Xuanzang continued turning through another stack of examination reports.

Cao Cheng explained: this was the murder case that took place on the tenth day of the fourth month — the day after the ambush on the wedding procession along Ganquan Avenue. At the time, the prefectural and county offices had mobilized together, deploying garrison troops to hunt for the Kui Wood Wolf. Everyone assumed it had already fled the city, but unexpectedly, at dusk, another violent incident occurred in Chenghua Ward. The victims were the ward headman and five patrol officers — which is to say, the Kui Wood Wolf had killed every last person in the Ward Patrol Post.

Xuanzang carefully examined these examination reports. This time, the evidence was unmistakable. The ward headman and the patrol officers had clearly been killed by a savage beast — their bodies were nearly torn apart, mangled and incomplete.

“The county magistrate at the time concluded that when the search parties were hunting the Kui Wood Wolf, the patrol officers of Chenghua Ward must have discovered its whereabouts, which was why they were slaughtered.”

Cao Cheng said.

Xuanzang agreed with this conclusion. He set down the examination report and rose to his feet.

Cao Cheng assumed he was about to leave and was just about to see him off when he heard Xuanzang say, “Secretary Cao, I wonder whether it would be possible to retrieve some old archives from the office for this humble monk to examine.”

“Oh? What old archives does the Venerable Monk wish to see?”

Cao Cheng asked.

“The evaluation record of the previous Secretary, Lv Sheng.”

Xuanzang said.

Li Chan heard this and immediately understood Xuanzang’s intention.

Court officials, regardless of rank, underwent a minor evaluation every year and a major evaluation every three years — this was the performance review system. Merit was divided into nine grades; only after four evaluations with a result of middling or above could an official be promoted or transferred. Every official matter handled by an official was recorded in the evaluation register, including achievements and transgressions. This record was later submitted to the Ministry of Personnel for review and served as the basis for promotion or demotion.

Cao Cheng hesitated. Yuzao shot him a sharp look. Cao Cheng smiled helplessly. “Venerable Monk, please wait a moment. These documents are sealed away in the Merit Bureau’s archive. I will have someone fetch them.”

The Western Market — Suo Family Divination Shop.

Xuanzang led Li Chan and Yuzao through the narrow lanes and alleys until they arrived at the entrance of the divination shop. By now it was nearly dusk. The shop was dim and without light. Xuanzang and the others pushed open the door.

“The Venerable Monk has come?”

Suo Yi was kneeling upon the felt mat, waiting. His expression was even more haggard than a few days before, his hair disheveled.

Yuzao snapped an arrow from her quiver with a sudden motion and nocked it to the bowstring, the arrowhead sweeping slowly across the surroundings.

“What is it?”

Li Chan was also startled. He drew his blade and stepped in front of Xuanzang to protect him.

“Nothing.”

Yuzao searched carefully for a moment, found no sign of anything unusual, and put away her bow and arrow.

Xuanzang walked to the space across from Suo Yi and sat down upon the felt mat. “Are your injuries somewhat better?”

“Not a particularly serious injury — I was only knocked and thrown by the Kui Wood Wolf.” Suo Yi laughed at himself. “My bones are not what they used to be. Age has caught up with me.”

“Had you not blocked that blow for this humble monk at the time, I would have died at the hands of the Kui Wood Wolf long ago.”

Xuanzang said sincerely. “If there is anything that troubles you, please do not hesitate to tell me. A debt of lifesaving grace must be repaid.”

Suo Yi suddenly recited aloud:

“According to the Historical Records: the scholars Song Zhong and Jia Yi ridiculed the diviner Sima Jizhu, saying — ‘Diviners speak in lofty terms of fortune and destiny to please men’s hearts; they fabricate pronouncements of calamity and blessing to exhaust men’s wealth.’ Also, according to Wang Chong’s Lunheng: ‘By observing the bones and frame one knows destiny and fortune; by knowing destiny and fortune one comprehends the bones and frame.’ This, then, is a book on destiny and fortune, and it has been in practice for a very long time. When many words sometimes prove right, people come to believe in it…”

Xuanzang said in a low, deliberate voice, “You have indeed read Lv Sheng’s Three Discourses.”

It turned out that what Suo Yi had just recited was the opening passage of Lv Sheng’s Discourse on Fortune and Destiny.

“Who in this city of Dunhuang has not read it?”

Suo Yi’s expression was one of grief and sorrow. “Secretary Lv was a man of extraordinary talent — I have never in my life seen a person of such heaven-bestowed genius. He was well-versed in music theory. When he was in Chang’an, he composed and compiled the Dance of Accomplished Virtue and the Dance of the Seven Virtues. Young Master Li — have you ever heard the Dance of the Seven Virtues?”

Li Chan shook his head blankly.

“It is what is now known as the Music of the Prince of Qin Breaking Through Enemy Lines.”

Yuzao said with disdain. “During the Wude years, Lv郎 set new lyrics to an old military tune and arranged it as a court song and dance. The Prince of Qin at the time was captivated by it. After ascending the throne, he renamed it Music of the Prince of Qin Breaking Through Enemy Lines and declared it the national music of the Great Tang.”

“Beyond that, he compiled geographical maps and records across successive dynasties and produced the Map of Regional Territories. He was a master of the game of Elephant Chess and annotated Emperor Wu of Northern Zhou’s Classic of Elephant Chess with illustrations and commentary. He was also an expert in the tactics and formations of warfare — he synthesized all the battle formations of antiquity into a unified whole and devised the Illustrated Guide to Teaching Flying Cavalry Formations. As for the Six Confucian Classics, the Buddhist and Daoist canonical scriptures, medicine, astronomy, calendrical calculations, divination by tortoise and milfoil, and the study of yin and yang and prognostication — there was nothing he did not touch upon, and nothing in which he was not thoroughly proficient. He entered government service at twenty-one and died at twenty-nine. How can there be a person in this world who is born already knowing all things? How can there be a person who has plumbed the depths of every branch of learning? And why can this world not accommodate a single sage who had not yet reached the height of his brilliance and greatness?”

Suo Yi’s beard and hair bristled and spread wide. He roared aloud, and tears streamed down his face.

Yuzao’s eyes reddened too, but she stubbornly wiped away her tears. Li Chan watched, and the hope he had been nursing in his heart crumbled to despair. He had originally assumed that Lv Sheng had merely passed the double-top examination, and that with his own standing and family background filling in the gaps, he might not be unable to compete against a dead man. But a Lv Sheng like this — even in death, no living person could begin to measure up to him.

“Were you well acquainted with Lv Sheng?”

Xuanzang asked in a low voice.

“I would not say well acquainted — I was merely one of the many he defeated.”

Suo Yi recalled the events of those years. “When Secretary Lv wrote the Three Discourses, a number of fortune-tellers and practitioners of divination sought him out to dispute him. In two or three exchanges they were each sent packing in defeat. This old man was merely one among those defeated.”

“Why exactly did he die?”

Xuanzang asked. “Who could not tolerate him? Was it the Linghu clan?”

Suo Yi stared at Xuanzang in astonishment. “It seems the Venerable Monk has indeed managed to dig out quite a few things. As for how he died — Venerable Monk, you must not pursue this further. Of course the Linghu clan wanted to kill him. But how could a mere Linghu clan kill Lv Sheng? The moment Lv Sheng set foot in Dunhuang, he entered a vast and surging flood. He was swimming against the current. This flood has no source and no end — it sweeps through the whole expanse of the Great Tang, engulfing hundreds of millions of subjects. Even the Son of Heaven himself is caught within it, carried along like mud and sand. Lv Sheng was destined to be shattered to pieces, destroyed in both name and body. Regardless of who rules this Dunhuang, who rules Longyou, who rules this Great Tang — in the historical record as it will be carved and revised, Lv Sheng must be a rebel, a traitor, a seditious criminal for a thousand years and more. Even should this Great Tang fall and a new dynasty take its place, Lv Sheng will still be nailed fast to the historical record, condemned for eternity with no hope of exoneration.”

Xuanzang, Li Chan, and Yuzao listened, trembling from head to toe, as though plunged into a freezing pit, their entire bodies turned to ice.

“When he could so clearly have become the Grand Chancellor of the Great Tang ten years hence — a living sage among men — why did he choose to walk that road?”

Suo Yi wailed aloud with great, heaving sobs.

Yuzao suddenly erupted in rage. With a ringing zheng, her long straight blade drove itself into the ground before Suo Yi’s eyes. The sword-edge was cold as frost, reflecting his two eyes back at him.

Yuzao seized Suo Yi by the front of his robe and bellowed, “Tell me — what exactly did Lv Sheng do?”

“You must be the twelfth young lady of the Wang family, yes?”

Suo Yi did not panic in the slightest. “This old man’s hexagram reading is already complete — I will die before long, though it will not be by your hand. You are also a woman burdened by bitter attachment. Some years ago, you actually managed to find out that the Lv family had sent a marriage proposal to the Zhai family. In that case, I will give you one more piece of information as a parting gift.”

“Speak!”

Yuzao said coldly, releasing her grip.

“You know only that the Lv family proposed to the Zhai family and was rejected. But do you know that afterwards, the Zhai family agreed?”

Suo Yi said.

Yuzao was instantly stunned speechless.

“What?”

Xuanzang frowned. “The Zhai family actually agreed? Was it a daughter of the main branch?”

“Of course. The very biological daughter of Zhai Chang — the blood sister of Zhai Shu, the very Zhai Wen who was later abducted by the Kui Wood Wolf.”

Suo Yi said. “This matter was kept deeply secret. There was likely not a single soul in all of Dunhuang who knew of it. However, Lv Sheng’s father, Lv Teng, needed to conduct the formal inquiry and betrothal rites, and he came to this old man to match the birth characters.”

“And afterwards?”

Yuzao asked, her spirit lost.

“Afterwards, Lv Sheng died in the great desert, and the marriage was naturally finished.”

Suo Yi said this, then rose to his feet. He hobbled over to the door in his stooped way. “The closing drum has already sounded. This old man must also return home to be with his children and grandchildren. Please take your leave, all of you.”

Xuanzang expressed his gratitude to him, then led Li Chan and Yuzao out of the divination shop.

Suo Yi shut the door to the shop, and the room instantly fell into complete darkness. Then, all at once, a dim lamplight flickered on. A cloth curtain hanging in the corner of the wall was pushed aside, and a figure emerged from behind it — one hand holding a blade, the other holding a lamp.

“It seems you are truly set on seeking death, to have spoken such things. And so I find it inconvenient to deal with you here. In that case, come with me.”

Dunhuang City, Xiuwen Ward — the Jia Na Hall.

The Jia Na Hall was the Confucian Academy established during the Western Liang period by Li Hao. Li Hao had placed great importance on civil education and had once conscripted five hundred students from the aristocratic clans to study in the academy, creating a period of flourishing literary culture. Even now, the Jia Na Hall remained standing, serving as the prefectural school. Surrounded on three sides by water, with a canal running around the hall, it was a place of exceptional tranquility.

Amid the sound of the closing drum, a small two-person sedan chair bearing no markings entered the Jia Na Hall and came to a stop at the foot of the steps in the central courtyard. A towering silhouette descended from the sedan — it was Zhang Bi, the head of the Dunhuang Zhang family.

Zhang Bi entered the main hall. In the center of the hall was a vast woolen carpet upon which seven writing desks had been arranged. Behind the central desk, an elderly man with entirely white hair and beard sat with a composed, smiling expression. On either side were three desks each, where five other elders sat in their places on the floor. Linghu Demao and Zhai Chang were plainly among them. Gathered in this room were in fact all the current patriarchs of Dunhuang’s seven great aristocratic clans — the Linghu, the Zhai, the Yin, the Fan, the Suo, the Song — with only the Li clan absent.

“My apologies — I arrived late.”

Zhang Bi cupped his hands in greeting and took his seat. “Elder Suo, what is the matter to be discussed today?”

The man seated at the center was Suo Yong, the current patriarch of the Suo clan. Given the Suo clan’s present standing, there was naturally no way it could claim precedence over all the other clans — however, the closed academy meetings of the seven great clans operated on a rotating chairmanship, changing leadership every year. This year happened to fall to the Suo clan.

Suo Yong smiled and said, “Today’s gathering was proposed and called by our brother Linghu and our brother Zhai. Naturally it falls to them to speak.”

Linghu Demao and Zhai Chang exchanged a glance. Zhai Chang smiled and said, “Today’s matter happens to be directly relevant to Elder Zhang, so I will not speak in circles. Elder Zhang, today Elder Linghu and I went to see Wang Junke.”

“I know.”

Zhang Bi nodded. “That horse merchant called a military council to deal with young nephew Linghu. How did it go?”

“Well—”

Zhai Chang gave a rueful smile. “Young nephew Linghu will naturally be fine — it was all worked out. However, Wang Junke raised a certain matter that requires consultation with Elder Zhang. He has a son, by the name of Wang Yong’an, who is currently serving as an Imperial Bodyguard in Chang’an. He will complete his service next year and will likely be posted outward as a county magistrate. Wang Junke wishes to ask Elder Linghu and me to serve as matchmakers and petition for the hand of your family’s Tiao Niang—”

Crack — before Zhai Chang had even finished speaking, Zhang Bi, blazing with fury, slammed his hand down hard on the writing desk. “That horse merchant humiliates people too deeply!”

Everyone in the hall fell silent. Zhai Chang also shut his mouth in embarrassment.

“Times have changed — Wang Junke is no longer a horse merchant.”

Linghu Demao said in a flat, measured tone. “He is the court-appointed Prefect of Xisha Prefecture, the Count of Pengze, and a Senior Pillar of the State.”

“What does Third Elder mean by that?”

Zhang Bi glanced sideways at him. “Are you actually pleased to be serving as this matchmaker?”

Linghu Demao also fell silent.

“Let alone that Wang Junke is merely a Count of Pengze — even if he were a Duke of the Realm, he would be nothing more than a monkey dressed in court robes, a new official of no standing.”

Zhang Bi laughed coldly. “Times change, and there will always be a few posturing buffoons who spend a few years slashing their way through battles at the front lines, receive high offices and generous honors, and imagine they can thereby enter the ranks of the aristocratic clans. What manner of thing is this Wang Junke? A horse merchant from Bingzhou. And he dares petition for the hand of my Zhang family’s legitimate daughter?”

Zhai Chang said with a conciliatory laugh, “Please calm yourself, Elder Zhang. Elder Linghu and I would not just casually serve as matchmakers. How could any old prefect or military man petition for Tiao Niang’s hand? It is only that a few days ago, the Prince of Linjiang sent a matchmaker to propose marriage between his son — the heir apparent — and Wang Junke’s twelfth daughter. The name inquiry has already been completed, and the betrothal gift presentation is imminent. After this, the Wang family will in effect be considered imperial in-laws.”

Several of the patriarchs present were surprised.

“When did this happen?”

Suo Yong asked.

“Seven or eight days ago.”

Zhai Chang replied. “Elder Zhang — although Wang Junke’s origins are humble and low, it cannot be said that his children’s generation cannot produce men of talent. And by the generation of his grandchildren—”

“Say no more of this.”

Zhang Bi cut him off without the slightest courtesy. “Even if every one of his children and grandchildren holds a position of the fifth rank or above, it takes three generations to be recognized as an aristocratic clan, and a hundred years to be listed among the ranked prefectural families. Wang Junke’s reputation is dreadful, and he is now allied by marriage with the Prince of Linjiang — a position of grave danger. The prospect of entering the ranks of the aristocratic clans a hundred years hence is an exceedingly remote one. My Zhang family will absolutely not marry Tiao Niang to the son of this horse merchant!”

“But… but Wang Junke is the Prefect of Xisha Prefecture. To refuse him in this manner — I fear it will create very difficult complications in the future.”

Zhai Chang said with a bitter smile.

“So what if it does?”

Zhang Bi replied with haughty assurance. “‘A county magistrate can destroy a family; a prefect can raze a clan.’ Though these are not the times of the Former Liang, my Zhang family will not be frightened by a mere prefect!”

Zhai Chang sighed repeatedly and looked to Linghu Demao for help.

“Elder Zhang,”

Linghu Demao said in a measured and deliberate tone, “Today is the closed academy council. Everyone present is a patriarch of the aristocratic clans. I will therefore speak some words that come from the bottom of my heart.”

Zhang Bi was visibly wary of Linghu Demao, and his manner softened somewhat. “Please proceed.”

“Including the Li clan, we eight great clans have maintained our lineages for seven or eight hundred years — and the shortest among us for over six hundred. But what of the dynasties that preceded us? From the Western Han to the Great Tang — the longest lasted two or three hundred years, the shortest barely ten or twenty. Dynasties have changed like horses in a relay race. Why has the transmission of our eight great clans managed to outlast imperial dynasties and endure in unbroken triumph?”

Linghu Demao surveyed those present. Clearly this question was not directed at Zhang Bi alone.

Zhang Bi thought for a moment. “Naturally it is because our clans have grown powerful and hold firm dominion over our territories.”

“And what of the Wang and Xie clans of the Southern Dynasties?”

Linghu Demao said with a cold laugh.

Zhang Bi was speechless. The Wang and Xie clans of the Jiangzuo region — since the Eastern Jin dynasty they had been said to share the world with the emperor, so great was their power, surpassing the Dunhuang Zhang clan by more than one measure. Yet today they were nothing more than swallows perching in what was once their hall.

Zhai Chang pondered aloud, “Is it perhaps that we Dunhuang aristocratic clans stand united, resisting outside encroachments as one?”

“While that is not wrong, it is not the true reason.”

Linghu Demao said. “The true reason is that the clans that failed to see the great tide of history were long ago eliminated. All those seated here today are clans that have moved with that tide!”

For a moment, everyone looked at one another. But none could refute it.

“Since Emperor Wu of Han opened Dunhuang Commandery, where now are the Wang clan, the Hou clan, the Cao clan, and the Duan clan? After the Northern Wei occupied Longyou and relocated great families such as the Li clan to the Wei capital of Pingcheng, how many great clans withered from that point onward? Today’s Li clan, though it has returned to Dunhuang, still does not hold a seat at these closed academy councils.”

Linghu Demao looked at Song Chengtao, patriarch of the Song clan. “Elder Song is also here today. Had the Song clan not produced Song Yao during the Former Liang period to revive the family, could the Song clan have maintained these two hundred years of its flourishing?”

Song Chengtao gave a rueful smile and said nothing. What Linghu Demao said was correct. In truth, every change of dynasty caused upheaval among the aristocratic clans. Take the Suo clan seated here — in earlier times, the Suo clan had produced distinguished figures one after another: the great calligrapher Suo Jing, the diviner Suo Chen, the great scholar Suo Chang. Yet since the Northern Dynasties era, the Suo clan had fallen into gradual decline. Still, a starved camel is larger than a horse, and they managed to keep up the outward appearances of a clan of standing.

Fan Renjie, patriarch of the Fan clan, and Yin Shixiong, patriarch of the Yin clan, also wore unpleasant expressions, for both their families were in a similar situation. Leaving aside the Fan clan, which had sunk to the same level as the Suo clan at the bottom, the Yin clan — had a branch of the family that had relocated to Chang’an not produced an Assistant Minister of Personnel and an imperial consort — would likely have found itself unable to present figures capable of upholding the ancestral prestige and distinction of the clan.

“Linghu — what exactly are you trying to say?”

Zhang Bi was somewhat ill at ease.

“Our gate-and-lock aristocratic clans have gone undefeated for a thousand years by sustaining ourselves through marriage alliances, supporting ourselves with men of talent, and attaching ourselves to the currents of the times. For the aristocratic clans, why is it said that the great clans of Jiangzuo produced no loyalists to the dynasty? It is because the great gate families attach themselves to the court only so that their own families may survive longer. We preserve our household standing — though dynasties change, our family’s standing remains as it ever was.”

Linghu Demao smiled grimly. “Those of humble origin have criticized us — that our aristocratic clans uphold ritual propriety above loyalty to any ruler. Though that is not entirely accurate, it is not entirely wrong either. For the aristocratic clans have transmitted their lineages for a thousand years — which dynasty would be worthy of us dying along with it? And so, Elder Zhang — the sons and daughters of aristocratic clans, whether of the main branch or the lesser branches, are ultimately resources to be used in forging alliances and consolidating the family. This Wang Junke is a man of deep and cunning intellect, and by no means a figure to be underestimated. Between the two prefectures of Gua and Sha, he is the person I am most wary of. For Elder Zhang to needlessly offend this man would be most imprudent!”

Zhang Bi replied with a brooding air, “What you say is not wrong. But Wang Junke comes from a horse merchant background — for my Zhang clan to form a marriage alliance with him would truly be a disgrace to the aristocratic clans. My Zhang clan is the august descendant of the Martial Progenitor King — for us to be threatened by a mere prefect and forced to offer our daughter in marriage to avoid disaster would truly be a humiliation to our ancestors! Elder Linghu — my Zhang clan has a girl from a collateral branch, the second daughter of my cousin Xitang. She may be offered to him. Take this reply back to him!”

Linghu Demao considered for a moment. “That is also acceptable — it would not exactly be an insult to him either.”

“This matter is settled. Let us move on to the next item.”

Suo Yong glanced at the scroll in his hands. “It concerns Xuanzang. Today he went to the county office and retrieved the case files from the Wude ninth year’s murders by the Kui Wood Wolf. He questioned the coroner and appears to have identified certain problems from the nature of the wounds on the bodies of those who died that year.”

Linghu Demao and Zhai Chang’s expressions changed at once.

“And then — where did that Xuanzang go—”

Suo Yong looked at the scroll and suddenly paused. “He went to find Suo Yi?”

Linghu Demao frowned. “Did you not promise me you would have someone kill Suo Yi? He is still alive?”

Suo Yong’s expression flickered with displeasure, but it passed in an instant. “This was a report just delivered by the Suo clan’s household guard. He was about to make his move when Xuanzang arrived, together with Li Chan and the twelfth young lady of the Wang family — he could not act in their presence…”

Suo Yong was still reading from the scroll as he spoke when his expression suddenly changed. He looked up at Zhai Chang. “That Suo Yi revealed the matter of your agreement to the Lv family’s marriage proposal!”

Zhai Chang was struck dumb for a moment, then erupted in fury. He snatched a wine pot from the table and smashed it violently to the ground, roaring, “That Suo Yi has such audacity! All the patriarchs present — we all swore an oath together back then!”

Beads of cold sweat stood out on Suo Yong’s forehead. He smiled apologetically. “Please calm yourself, Hongye, calm yourself. This was merely a collateral clan member speaking without restraint — it has nothing to do with my Suo clan. My household guard, seeing that he had said such things, did not dare kill him on the spot, and instead confined him to custody for Hongye to deal with as he sees fit.”

“What use is it for me to deal with him?”

Zhai Chang was incensed beyond control. “Xuanzang the Venerable Monk is a son of the Buddha — he perceives even what is obscured in the shadows. Once he learns of this, what could possibly be concealed from him? You are all well aware of Xuanzang’s relationship with the Emperor. This is clearly aimed at destroying my Zhai clan!”

Linghu Demao said urgently, “Brother Hongye, Brother Hongye — there is still a way to remedy this. Xuanzang is set on the westward journey. Send him out through the pass as soon as possible. Never mind whether he can return — even if he does, it will be decades from now. We will have long since cleaned up all traces.”

“You once threatened him in the Mogao Caves — did he listen?”

Zhai Chang said in frantic exasperation. “Linghu — I will say this once again, clearly. My Zhai clan has revered Buddhism for generations. I will absolutely not consent to you taking violent action against the Venerable Monk Xuanzang!”

Linghu Demao turned to Suo Yong with a stony face. “Elder Suo, where is Xuanzang now?”

Suo Yong wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and looked carefully at the scroll. He suddenly froze. “He… he has gone to the Prefectural Office.”

“He went to the Prefectural Office to find Wang Junke?”

Linghu Demao said, puzzled. “What does he intend?”

“He went to obtain Wang Junke’s military authorization document.”

Suo Yong drew a deep breath. “He intends to go to the Qingdun Outpost!”

The room fell dead silent. Everyone present was struck speechless.

In the rear residence main hall of the Prefectural Office, Wang Junke, Xuanzang, and Li Chan sat on the felt mat. Yuzao knelt to one side in attendance.

Wang Junke said thoughtfully, “The Venerable Monk wishes to go to the Qingdun Outpost… that case is already three years old. People and circumstances have changed. What can be gained by going now?”

“It is not the relay station I wish to see, but a particular person.”

Xuanzang said with a smile. “I have heard that the soldier who personally beheaded Lv Sheng that year is named Lin Sima. He has since been promoted to the rank of Deputy Lieutenant of the eighth rank, lower tier, and currently serves as the garrison commander at the Qingdun Outpost. This humble monk would like to go and discuss the Dharma with him — however, the Qingdun Outpost is a military stronghold, and a prefectural document would be required.”

“Discuss the Dharma…”

Wang Junke was at a loss for words. He shot Yuzao a fierce glare.

Yuzao kept her head lowered and acted as though she had not noticed.

Wang Junke deliberated for a long while. “Yuzao, you and Young… Young Master Li, please step back for now. Hmm — make sure you look after Young Master Li well. Bring out a jar of the official-grade clear brew I brought from Chang’an and let Young Master Li have a taste.”

“Excellent! Excellent!”

Li Chan broke into a broad smile.

Yuzao, without a word, rose to her feet and left from behind the screen. Li Chan hurried after her in a scramble.

Wang Junke watched the two of them go. He leaned slightly to one side and said in a low voice, “Venerable Monk — what are the heir apparent’s intentions? Why is he hiding his name and staying close to Yuzao?”

Xuanzang smiled ruefully. “As the Prefect also knows, you have arranged a marriage for him with the Li family, and the twelfth young lady is not particularly in favor of it.”

“Not particularly in favor of it? That is putting it mildly!”

Wang Junke kneaded his forehead with weary frustration. “I have truly spoiled this daughter of mine — she is beyond managing. She even dares to defy me over the matter of her own marriage.”

“Yet the heir apparent is very much pleased with this match.”

Xuanzang said.

Wang Junke’s eyes went wide at once, surprise and delight mingling on his face.

Xuanzang thought for a moment. “The heir apparent also knows that Yuzao does not consent, yet he has not given up. He has thus concealed his name and remained by the twelfth young lady’s side, hoping to gradually win her goodwill. His affections run deep. This humble monk is also glad to help bring this matter to its proper end, and so I have been going along with him.”

“Well done, Venerable Monk!”

Wang Junke said with great approval. “As parents, we all wish to find a good match for our daughters. Parents can arrange a union of compatible standing and family background, but they cannot arrange the tenderness between husband and wife. For these two to find genuine affection for one another — that is a true match ordained by Heaven.”

“We can only see what fate holds for the two of them.”

Xuanzang said. “In truth, this humble monk can do very little. I only observe the gathering of the three kinds of suffering, and the arising and passing away of causes and conditions between the two of them.”

“Ah — you mean their marriage is fated by Heaven?”

Wang Junke had not entirely understood, but was deeply gratified. He cupped his hands in a bow. “Venerable Monk, please do all you can to help them along. I will give the word, and no one will reveal the heir apparent’s identity. However…”

Wang Junke seemed somewhat troubled. “The matter of the Qingdun Outpost is far too broadly entangled with other things. I urge the Venerable Monk to proceed with great caution. These years I have also been aware that Yuzao has been investigating Lv Sheng’s old case — her nature is blunt and impulsive, and she has not managed to find anything. It has been a small-scale affair, and so I have not stopped her. But she has asked you to lead the investigation, and this threatens to tear open the sky. The Qingdun Outpost — you must not go!”

Xuanzang became serious. “Are you familiar with the details of Lv Sheng’s case?”

“The details?”

Wang Junke pretended to be deaf and dumb. “That case was adjudicated by the previous Prefect of Xisha Prefecture. When I arrived, the case had already been closed. What details would I know? You jest, Venerable Monk. What I mean is… it is more than a hundred and eighty li from the prefectural seat to the Qingdun Outpost, and the western side of that route lies beside the old Jade Gate Pass. The Kui Wood Wolf could attack at any time. It is truly too dangerous. For the sake of the Venerable Monk’s safety, I absolutely dare not issue this document.”

Wang Junke’s expression was resolute. Just as Xuanzang was about to press further, Wang Junsheng came in from outside, leaned close to Wang Junke’s ear, and said quietly, “Linghu Demao and Zhai Chang are at the door requesting an audience, my lord.”

Wang Junke asked Xuanzang to rest in the rear hall and went out himself to receive Linghu Demao and Zhai Chang.

Xuanzang had only just reached the rear hall when he saw Yuzao idling with nothing to do beneath the corridor eaves. Li Chan stood to one side, his nose and face bruised and swollen, looking at Xuanzang with an aggrieved expression. “Master — I never got to drink the clear brew. I got a thrashing instead…”

Xuanzang opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, equally at a loss.

“Venerable Monk — where is my father?”

Yuzao asked in surprise.

“Linghu Demao and Zhai Chang have arrived.”

Xuanzang explained. “The Prefect has guests to receive.”

“Linghu Demao? That old scoundrel actually dares show his face here!”

Yuzao flew into a sudden rage. She yanked out her straight blade and stormed off in great strides toward the main hall.

Both Xuanzang and Li Chan were startled. They hurried to block her path, and with much coaxing and persuasion, wrestled the blade from her hand.

But Yuzao’s resentment refused to subside. “Venerable Monk, have no worry — I will not act rashly. Let us go behind the screen and listen to what this old scoundrel has come to say.”

Yuzao pulled the two of them toward the rear of the main hall’s screen. Xuanzang felt it was improper, yet he could not dissuade her. Li Chan went along with an eager smile so fawning that even Xuanzang could not bring himself to look at it directly.

From the main hall came Wang Junke’s voice: “For the two of you to come at such a late… at this hour to see me — what is your purpose?”

“After receiving your honored commission, the two of us chose an auspicious day and called upon the Zhang family to serve as matchmakers.”

Zhai Chang said with a smile. “We have come specially this evening to deliver our reply to you.”

“Oh?”

Wang Junke was pleased. “What did Elder Zhang say?”

Zhai Chang said, “On hearing that the Prefect wished for the two families to form a bond of matrimony, the Zhang family was very glad. However, the marriage arrangements for Tiao Niang have apparently already been made, and Elder Zhang found himself in some difficulty.”

Wang Junke kept his expression neutral. “Already arranged? I had not heard that the Zhang family’s legitimate daughter was betrothed to anyone.”

“It is like this.”

Zhai Chang said. “Elder Zhang said that in the third month of this year, a letter arrived from Zhang Gongjin, the Military Governor of Dai Prefecture, proposing a marriage union between the Zhang family and the Boling Cui clan, with Tiao Niang as the designated bride.”

Wang Junke’s expression darkened. “Is Zhang Gongjin from Dunhuang?”

“Zhang Gongjin is of the Dunhuang Zhang clan’s registered lineage — his great-grandfather relocated to Fanshui in Weizhou.”

Zhai Chang answered.

Wang Junke gave a cold laugh. “Zhang Gongjin and I once served together under Wang Shichong’s command, and we have been fellow court officials in the Great Tang — how is it I never knew he had this peculiar hobby of playing matchmaker?”

Zhai Chang did not know how to respond, and could only smile in helpless bitterness. He and Zhang Bi had deliberated for a long while before deliberately invoking Zhang Gongjin’s name — their intent was also to serve as a warning to Wang Junke. For Zhang Gongjin and Wang Junke were quite well acquainted, and Zhang Gongjin was even more deeply trusted by the Emperor.

In his early years, Zhang Gongjin had served in Li Shimin’s Grand Strategist’s residence. In the moments before Li Shimin launched the Xuanwu Gate coup, he was still wavering and uncertain, and had ordered someone to divine through turtle-shell oracle to determine the auspiciousness of the undertaking. Zhang Gongjin barged in and smashed the turtle shell to the ground, declaring, “The great tide of circumstances compels us — it is like an arrow already set to the bowstring. If the oracle’s result is inauspicious, are we to abandon the remonstrance by force of arms?” Li Shimin found this convincing. During the coup, Zhang Gongjin held the Xuanwu Gate, blocking the forces coming to rescue Li Jiancheng from entering through the gate. He distinguished himself greatly and thereafter rose at once, receiving the post of Commander of the Left Martial Guard, the peerage of the Duke of Dingyuan Commandery, and the position of Military Governor of Dai Prefecture — both his peerage and official rank surpassing Wang Junke’s.

“And then?”

Wang Junke stared at the two of them and laughed coldly.

Zhai Chang was about to respond when Linghu Demao suddenly said, “The Zhang family has another daughter — in character and appearance no less than Tiao Niang — and is willing to betroth her to your honored son.”

“Main branch or lesser branch? Legitimate or of a concubine’s line?”

Wang Junke said.

“Legitimate daughters… there is only Tiao Niang.”

Linghu Demao said.

Bang — Wang Junke slammed down on the desk with a single blow. The hard jujube-wood desk split apart with a sharp crack. Both Linghu Demao and Zhai Chang were startled, their expressions changing dramatically.

“The old scoundrel humiliates people to the limit!”

Wang Junke’s fury was uncontrollable.

Even those behind the screen — Xuanzang and the others — were startled. Yuzao’s face flushed with shame and fury. She wanted to charge out, but Li Chan clung to her in a death grip, shaking his head at her frantically.

Xuanzang shook his head repeatedly, though he could not blame Wang Junke and Yuzao for being provoked. A daughter born of a concubine or servant was not born of the legitimate wife — she was born of the secondary household. Under Tang law, concubines and servants were of low status and could be bought and sold freely: “Concubines are subject to purchase and sale; the distinctions are numerous and marked; maidservants are of the base stratum and are by nature not of the same kind.” Even if one struck such a person dead, the penalty under the penal code was only a hundred strokes of the rod — “If a slave or servant has committed an offense and the master kills without reporting to the authorities, the penalty is a hundred strokes of the rod; if the person has committed no offense and is nonetheless killed, the penalty is one year of penal servitude.” The sons and daughters born of a concubine or servant — those of lesser lineage — were also of low standing. Tang marriage ritual law was exceedingly strict, rigidly stratified in its hierarchies. The distinction between the legitimate and the lesser lines was, if anything, even more pronounced than the distinction between the educated class and the common people, because it touched upon the question of inheritance within families and even within the dynasty itself. The situation had been somewhat better before the Wei and Jin periods, but from the upheaval at the end of the Western Jin and continuing through the Northern Dynasties period, contempt for those of lesser lineage reached its most extreme degree. The Tang imperial house traced its origins to the Guanlong region and was among the most lenient of all dynasties when it came to the distinction between legitimate and lesser lines — yet the moment such matters involved family succession or marriage, the line between the two was drawn with great clarity. From the imperial family down to officials and commoners alike, everyone observed the ritual rules and legal statutes. For example, the shadow-privilege accorded to the sons of high officials was explicitly regulated: those of lesser lineage were equated with habitual drunkards and those afflicted by illness and disease — they were ineligible for shadow-privilege appointment.

Lesser lineage — meaning those of the concubine’s line. A son born of a concubine or secondary wife was like a sucker growing from the base of a tree. Even Wei Zheng himself held that, “Since the Zhou dynasty, the established heir has always been the eldest legitimate son — this is precisely in order to cut off the ambitions and covetousness of those of lesser lineage and to seal off the source of turmoil and disaster.”

Wang Junke was the duly appointed Prefect of an entire prefecture, the Count of Pengze — and yet Zhang Bi intended to offer a daughter of lesser lineage to his son. This act was in fact a direct insult to Wang Junke.

Wang Junke snarled. “It seems Zhang Bi looks down upon me as a new official of no standing!”

Zhai Chang, seeing that Wang Junke had misunderstood, said hastily, “Not at all, not at all. Elder Zhang—”

But at this moment, Linghu Demao secretly tugged at his sleeve. Zhai Chang was bewildered. Linghu Demao gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Zhai Chang, puzzled, closed his mouth.

“Is there any aristocratic clan that lasts forever without change?”

Wang Junke laughed coldly. “I have long heard that Zhai Hongye is well-versed in the classics and poetry. Do you happen to know the Lament for the South?”

“I—”

Seeing Wang Junke in a towering rage, Zhai Chang was also full of trepidation. He looked to Linghu Demao for help. Linghu Demao’s face was expressionless.

“Recite it!”

Wang Junke commanded in a stern voice.

Deeply humiliated, Zhai Chang had no choice but to recite:

“In the year of Wuchen, on the day of Jianhai, the great bandit usurped the realm, and Jinling crumbled into ruins. I fled and hid my body in the desolate valleys, while the public and private alike were plunged into fire and misery. Huayang fell in desperate flight, with those going never to return. The restoration came to nothing, exhausted by the year of Jiaxu. Three days of weeping at the capital pavilion; three years imprisoned in a foreign lodge…”

Linghu Demao’s face turned the color of iron. The Lament for the South was written by Yu Xin, the great literary figure of the Southern Liang dynasty. During the reign of Emperor Wu of Liang, the rebel Hou Jing rose in arms. He starved Emperor Wu of Liang to death and wreaked havoc across the Jiangzuo region. The aristocratic families of cultured distinction who had crossed south of the Yangtze — the descendants of those who had maintained civilization through those centuries — were subjected to an unprecedented catastrophe and nearly wiped out in a purge of blood. The historical records state that Hou Jing “released his troops to kill and plunder; corpses lay piled in the roads. The wealthy households and great families were stripped of their wealth and goods entirely; wives, concubines, and daughters were all taken into the military encampments. Regardless of noble or base, day and night without ceasing, beating and whipping freely; those too weak or exhausted were killed and used to fill ravines. The sounds of wailing and weeping shook heaven and earth…”

After Hou Jing was finally suppressed and killed, the Three Wu region — once one of the wealthiest lands in the world — was for a thousand li utterly devoid of smoke from hearth fires, human traces vanishingly rare, and bleached bones piled high as burial mounds. The Lament for the South was written to describe exactly this devastation.

And the origin of the whole affair was simply this: after the Eastern Wei rebel general Hou Jing had fled to the Southern Liang, he wished to propose marriage into the prestigious Wang and Xie clans and asked Emperor Wu of Liang to serve as matchmaker. The Emperor, disdaining his low lineage, refused. Hou Jing harbored resentment from that moment.

“Recited well! Wang here is crude and lacking in literary accomplishment — a man who came from selling horses. I do not know whether you recited it correctly, nor do I understand the beauty of the phrasing. I would therefore like to ask the two family patriarchs: after the disaster Hou Jing brought, where now are the Wang and Xie clans of Jiangzuo?”

Wang Junke’s voice was cold and sinister with a grim smile. “After Hou Jing was suppressed, the aristocratic clans of the Southern Dynasties were taken as slaves by the Western Wei. At the River Yin Massacre, Erzhu Rong of the Northern Wei slaughtered more than two thousand scholar-officials and aristocratic clan members in a single day, wiping out the great house clans almost entirely. With every change of dynasty, some families of common origin are added to the ranked prefectural clans, and some aristocratic clans decline and perish.”

Linghu Demao said in a flat tone, “Does the Prefect wish to play the role of Hou Jing?”

“Does Elder Linghu wish to compare the current Emperor to Emperor Wu of Liang?”

Wang Junke, though not extensively educated, was not the slightest bit dim-witted. He immediately turned Linghu Demao’s words back upon him. “I merely wished to ask the two family patriarchs to go back and tell that Zhang Bi — while it is true that aristocratic clans can be transmitted across a thousand years, it is not easy for them to sustain that standing. There hangs above them a sword, and that sword is named ‘withering across successive generations.’ Three generations without a member of the fifth rank or above, and their clan standing will be diminished. Today the great tide of history is not with the old and decrepit aristocratic clans — it is with the new dynasty and its new officials. If one cannot see that clearly, then the clan status and gate distinction of the Zhang family is nothing more than a ripple and a bubble on the surface of water.”

Linghu Demao was silent for a long while, then clasped his hands in a bow. “This old man will certainly relay the message to Elder Zhang!”

“See the guests out!”

Wang Junke said in a low, steady voice.

Wang Junsheng came in and led Linghu Demao and Zhai Chang to the door.

No sooner had the two of them stepped out of the Prefectural Office than Zhai Chang said urgently, “Third Elder — why did you not let me explain just now? Elder Zhang’s cousin’s daughter is not of the concubine line. This misunderstanding is serious!”

Linghu Demao said in a flat tone, “Wang Junke arrived at that misunderstanding himself. What does it have to do with you and me?”

Zhai Chang stared at him blankly, and then a chill ran through his entire body all at once. “Elder Linghu—”

“Moreover, what Wang Junke wants is Zhang Bi’s daughter — not his cousin’s daughter.”

Linghu Demao’s face was entirely without expression. “Aside from Tiao Niang, in Wang Junke’s eyes, any other daughter is no different from one of the lesser lineage — equally a humiliation.”

“But they are not the same!”

In the cold night air, cold sweat beaded across Zhai Chang’s forehead. “Now Wang Junke will surely bear deep hatred toward Zhang Bi and be driven to take some form of revenge… Elder Linghu, do you intend to…”

Zhai Chang suddenly thought of one possibility, and could not help but shudder.

In the dim and shadowed street, Linghu Demao stared at him in silence, his eyes deep and dark, like ghost-fire in the depths.

“Hongye — you and I, the Linghu clan and the Zhai clan, have been as close as brothers for generations, a friendship stretching over dozens of forebears. Yet in this city of Dunhuang—”

Linghu Demao said in a tone of cold menace, “do you not think the aristocratic clans are somewhat too numerous?”

Zhai Chang stood frozen on the spot.

In the main hall of the Prefectural Office, Wang Junke sat with an ashen face, in silence.

Yuzao strode in. “Father — why should you petition on my brother’s behalf for this marriage and be humiliated by that old scoundrel?”

Xuanzang and Li Chan had no choice but to follow her in. Wang Junke nodded to the two of them, then looked at his daughter. “That was not a humiliation — it is simply how my Wang family appears in the eyes of those aristocratic clans. You consider it a humiliation only because you have overestimated your own family’s standing.”

Yuzao was momentarily speechless.

Xuanzang said in a low voice, “Your Excellency — Linghu Demao compared you to Hou Jing. If word of this reaches the court, I fear it could damage your reputation.”

“My thanks to the Venerable Monk.”

Wang Junke said with a quiet laugh. “Even if all eight great aristocratic clans of Dunhuang joined hands to bring a case against me before the court, it would matter not at all. Because the phrase ‘the new dynasty and its new officials’ is enough to press down with crushing weight upon the phrase ‘the old and decrepit aristocratic clans.'”

“Why is that?”

Li Chan did not understand.

Wang Junke looked at him with a warm and measured gaze. “Young Master’s family name is Li — the Longyou Li clan was once an aristocratic clan; having now become the imperial house, they naturally remain an aristocratic clan. But Young Master may be aware that when it comes to reckoning the aristocratic clans in our Great Tang today, foremost among them are the families of Shandong — the Li clan of Zhao Commandery, the Cui clan of Qinghe, the Lu clan of Fanyang, the Zheng clan of Xingyang, the Wang clan of Taiyuan, the Pei clan of Hedong — even the dignity of the imperial house is ranked below them as second tier.”

“That is indeed true.”

Li Chan, being of the imperial family himself, was naturally the more keenly aware of this.

Wang Junke said loudly, “When the Emperor led us to overthrow the tyrannical Sui, to suppress and pacify the rebel kings — was it so that we might promote and honor those clans? If the meritorious generals and good ministers who followed the Emperor through blood and fire to establish the Great Tang are instead ridden over and humiliated by those people, then where is the dignity of the Son of Heaven? Where is the authority and majesty of our Great Tang court? And so — in the eyes of this official, the aristocratic clans of Dunhuang are nothing more than a mob of posturing buffoons. Because what they are humiliating is not me, Wang Junke — they are humiliating the meritorious officials and hereditary nobility, the proud and battle-hardened soldiers, all personally cultivated and brought forward by the Emperor himself!”

Xuanzang nodded. “So the Prefect has his own ground to stand on.”

“Naturally I have grounds.”

Wang Junke said with a laugh. “Yuzao — this is also why your father betrothed you to the heir apparent. My Wang family are nobility of merit, personally raised up by the Emperor himself — it is only natural that we should support and assist the Li imperial house and share in their honor and glory.”

Li Chan was delighted. He quietly cupped his hands in a bow toward Wang Junke. Wang Junke smiled. The two of them were remarkably in agreement, all understood without a word being spoken.

Yuzao’s face went stiff again. “Let us set that aside for now. Father — are you going to give the document or not? Even if you don’t, we are going to the Qingdun Outpost regardless! If some dispute breaks out with those garrison soldiers in the future, don’t blame me for it!”

Wang Junke opened his mouth — clearly she was beyond managing. He thought for a moment, then slammed the desk. “Venerable Monk! I will issue the military authorization document to you this very moment! Hmph — the festering sore of the gate-and-lock aristocracy! Do they think that draping themselves in embroidered robes makes it invisible? Then let us strip those embroidered robes from them!”

“Many thanks, Your Excellency!”

Xuanzang looked at him deeply. “It seems you are not entirely without knowledge of Lv Sheng’s case.”

Wang Junke let out a dry laugh. “The Venerable Monk may investigate as he sees fit. It has nothing to do with me. Nothing to do with me at all.”

Note — Jia Na Hall: the great academy. As the Book of Rites, “Royal Regulations” states: “The great academy is in the outskirts. The Son of Heaven’s is called the Bi Yong; the feudal lords’ is called the Pan Gong.”