On the watchtower above the southern gate of the Daliang Palace, Chen Dasheng had already sat quietly for two days. He sat motionless on the high platform, staring at the stone pillar outside the southern gate, and at the mythical beast crouched atop it.

Today wasn’t his shift, but he had still risen at the fifth watch as usual, come without a word, walked straight up to the tower, put on the mask His Majesty had bestowed on him, and gone still.

No one knew what was going through this man’s mind, but he was no ordinary man, so his thoughts were surely no ordinary thoughts.

Aside from someone coming to call him for meals, the rest of the time his personal guards simply kept their distance, watching him with the reverent eyes one might use for a hero, and none dared come up and disturb him carelessly.

Chen Dasheng sat high atop the gate tower, and his brothers were certainly crouched somewhere nearby. They were all men of few words — they didn’t even speak to each other. Once up on the tower they each picked a spot, tucked themselves into a corner, and didn’t move again. The guards stationed at the gate, without much effort at all, managed to completely forget these men existed.

Only at mealtime, when Chen Jingli passed by their corner, would they slowly rise to their feet, and only then would you remember — oh, right, there are six more of them here.

Then a cold sweat would follow.

These men were simply that unsettling.

In truth, the duties of the Changdao Guard weren’t heavy. Except on the days of the Emperor’s grand court assembly held every ten days, when they had to rise at the fourth watch and stand at the southern gate until court ended, there wasn’t much else required of them.

As for the daily minor court sessions, other guard units rotated through those; the Changdao Guard had no need to bother with such trivial matters.

Since its founding, the Changdao Guard had stood above all other guard units, for they were the only seven Marquises of the City Gates in the founding era of the Great Liang dynasty — granted the honor of a single ceremonial cauldron and given a status like no other. With such treatment, people actually felt it wasn’t enough.

Through the previous dynasty’s three hundred eighty years, the Black Cavalry Commandant had ridden to war across the land — how many foreign enemies had they beaten back, how many rebellions had they quelled? Yet who could have guessed the dynasty would fade from the world step by step, worn down by mere footsoldiers like these.

His Majesty’s own personal troops had always fought bravely, and among them, the veteran retainers brought up from the Yang Family were unmatched.

Yet even Liu Jingli, himself a product of the Yang Family retainers, admitted it wasn’t the same. Not the same from head to toe — simply not the same kind of person at all, nothing worth comparing.

They were all men who’d survived battle after battle on the battlefield — some men, you take one look at them a mile off in the wind, and a veteran soldier just knows in his gut whether he can win or not.

And now men like that stood at the southern gate simply guarding the door for His Majesty. One could imagine how the Tan family must feel about it. Their family kept saying, over and over, “The Changdao Guard is here! Right here!”

Hmph! A Changdao Camp that had never seen blood, never drawn a blade in earnest — could that still be called the Changdao Camp?

His Majesty, in private, must have laughed about this more times than anyone could count.

Though Liu Jingli had once mentioned to Chen Dasheng that the post of City Gate Marquis had, long, long ago, been a position of real weight — back then, emperors granted their City Gate Marquises a stipend of two thousand piculs.

These days, a third-rank minister would be lucky to receive an honorary grant of two thousand at all — because Great Liang was poor! Start them low, and add favor year by year — that’s what counts as true grace!

The Changdao Guard did keep night watches, generally trailing behind the Imperial Guard, and at most slept in the palace three nights a month — after all, the Imperial Guard numbered several hundred men.

The rest of the time, they’d appear at the Grand Sacrifice, New Year’s Day, the Winter Solstice, oh, and whenever His Majesty went on inspection tours… In short, as long as His Majesty left the palace, they had to follow behind the Imperial Guard’s rear column. Otherwise, they could do as they pleased, go wherever they liked.

Idle to the point of being outrageous.

Liu Daya, Liu Jingli, was on duty today. Not long after he went to the rear hall, he came sauntering out from the back palace, holding a few shriveled fruits in his hand, followed by eight Imperial Guards escorting a minister between them, the man’s face streaked with dust and grime.

One of the southern gate’s important functions: this was where His Majesty had ministers caned. In the previous dynasty, they were made to drop their trousers and bare their backside for the caning; under His Majesty’s grace, in Great Liang they were permitted to keep their undergarments on.

“We thank the Emperor for his boundless grace!” This was considered merciful governance — it was just that the frequency was a bit high lately, especially these past few days when His Majesty had been in a temper; a minister was sent out every hour or two.

Below, the caning began — crack, crack — and Liu Jingli sauntered up onto the tower. Passing the corner, he pulled a small packet from his sleeve and tossed it over — dried fruit granted from the back palace. When the consorts and ladies were in a good mood, they often handed out food and drink, sometimes even silver; usually the eunuchs got more of it, the guards less.

Ranked guards didn’t accept such rewards. A proper court official, accepting money from the harem’s consorts? Unseemly!

So Liu Jingli could only receive the offerings sent by whichever guards had a keen eye for such things — enough to sweeten his mouth a little. Of course, he didn’t think much of these little gifts either; what pleased him was that his brothers always kept him in mind whenever something good came their way.

Guan Si’er reached up and caught the packet, turning to grin at Liu Jingli. “Thanks, Master Liu.”

He was a thick-browed, bright-eyed young man, likeable, curious, always grinning at Liu Jingli and asking this and that, like some sheltered girl from an inner household who’d never stepped past the second gate.

Of the Changdao Guard’s thousand acres of barren field, he was the one sprout that grew on its own initiative, and Liu Jingli treasured him like a jewel, often teasing him with a joke or two.

Liu Jingli put on a wounded expression and pointed at him, complaining: “Si’er! You’re breaking your brother’s heart! Two days now, you’ve eaten so many good things from your brother, and you still can’t bring yourself to call me ‘Big Brother’ even once? I’ve been worried over you for nothing.”

Yet even his complaining had a sweetness to it — because these men didn’t guard against him, he could sense that.

So even as he grumbled, the corner of his eye kept sliding smugly toward the guards below the tower.

The guards below were naturally green with envy — imagine, joking around with the Changdao Guard! And so familiar with them, too! No wonder — that’s our Liu Jingli, smooth as silk, knows the ropes everywhere.

Guan Si’er chuckled. It was true, he’d eaten plenty of the man’s things — but Big Brother was Big Brother; there was only ever one Blade-Head in a lifetime, and that wasn’t something even His Majesty could take.

Hearing another minister was being caned, Chen Dasheng actually stood up.

A country boy — once, even seeing the village headman had made his legs shake. Now he could watch ministers get caned every day; it was a curious kind of experience.

He caught a shriveled fruit Liu Jingli tossed his way out of the air, and while chewing it, changed position, leaning against the inner wall of the tower next to Liu Jingli, gnawing his fruit, watching the caning below.

The minister being punished looked to be in his thirties or forties, and carried himself with some dignity. Seeing that a wide bench had been set out for him, he calmly loosened his belt himself and removed his three-beam cap, his court robe, his inner garment, his padded jacket, his padded trousers, his black boots… until at last, barefoot and wearing only a patched undergarment, he lay face-down across the bench.

He even offered polite greetings left and right: “My apologies for the trouble, brothers. Go easy, and I’ll be sure to thank you generously.”

Having said this, he gritted his teeth and buried his face down.

Below, the caning began — crack, crack — and the minister started howling, someone counting loudly above him, “One, two, three…!”

Chen Dasheng kept crunching his fruit up above alongside Liu Jingli.

Liu Jingli said between bites: “Little brother, don’t you underestimate these fruits. Hah! This may be Yandu, but these days, even these shriveled little dried-up fruits with no juice left — only the palace has them. You could have money in hand and nowhere to buy them. These days, who knows when it’ll ever turn around…”

The last time Chen Dasheng had eaten fruit was back home in his village. His family had had an old jujube tree; every year when it ripened, he’d hug his grandfather’s leg and beg, and his grandfather, worn down by the pestering, would take up a pole and knock a few down for them.

Even that had to be kept secret from his grandmother, or there’d be a scolding for everyone — his grandfather was afraid of her too.

Their family’s jujubes were terribly sweet; every year they could fill several cloth sacks, and could be traded in town for a good bit of salt to bring home.

Chen Dasheng finished the fruit, pit and all, then looked down at the minister below, who was now begging for the strikes to slow, and said: “That’s a fifth-rank silver pheasant.”

Liu Jingli gave Chen Dasheng a thumbs-up in praise: “Not bad, brother, good memory! You learn fast.”

The guards had their own bit of homework, memorizing the rank badges worn by ministers — first rank crane, second rank golden pheasant, third rank peacock, fourth rank wild goose… For military officials, the embroidered beasts were different — first and second rank lion, third and fourth rank tiger and leopard…

Or else, they’d count the beams on the ministers’ caps — His Majesty wore nine beams, first rank seven beams, second rank six beams, third rank five beams…

With so many people, it was fine if you couldn’t remember faces, as long as you remembered the badges and caps, you wouldn’t commit any great breach of etiquette.

These days the new dynasty was in such disarray that from His Majesty down to the ministers, everyone wore leftover items from the previous dynasty. Because of the chaos of war, the court robes weren’t complete — some wore a full set borrowed and split apart, some wore sacrificial vestments, some wore court robes, and some just wore a plain robe with a paper rank badge pasted crudely on the front… In any case, the new dynasty had no craftsmen, and Yandu had no tailor shops open yet.

The minister below took fifteen strokes in total, and the last few finally drew blood.

Once it was over, he propped himself up on the bench and stood, swaying, and slowly dressed himself back into his court robes piece by piece. Finally he pulled a few pieces of broken silver from his sleeve to give to the guards.

That gesture immediately marked him as an official from the old dynasty — our current Emperor had never shorted his soldiers, and none of them had ever developed such a habit.

So the silver was refused, leaving the old official standing dumbfounded for a long while before he finally limped off, hand on his back, hand on the palace wall, slowly making his way toward the western gate.

Three courts, five gates, east, west, south, north — everyone had their proper door and their proper path.

The minister walked very slowly, and Chen Dasheng watched until he disappeared from sight.

Curious, Liu Jingli asked him: “Little brother? What are you looking at?”

Chen Dasheng thought a moment and said: “So officials wear patched clothes too.”

Liu Jingli laughed at that. “It’s not quite like that. That’s rare! You know what kind of man our Emperor is? He probably kept this one on precisely because he wears patched clothes. Ah, but tell me — why is it that the common folk of this whole city of Yandu don’t understand how good our Emperor is? We’ve persuaded them, we’ve explained it to them, we’ve beaten the gongs through every street and lane for so long, yet — hah! — not a single person comes out to open a shop. What are they even thinking?”

Indeed — what were they thinking? His Majesty was so good, so why did every household in the city stay shuttered and refuse to come out?

These days, the only people moving through the city were vagrants, idlers, ruffians, refugees… and this was supposed to be the great capital of Yandu!

Liu Jingli went on rambling: “My grandfather came to Yandu once with the old commander, back in the day. When I was little, I’d hear the old man go on about it — said the inner city of Yandu was twenty li around, the outer wall eighty li, and back then it was a flourishing age. There were scholars who wrote that this was a place where noble clans and official lineages had lived for generations — the emperor could change at any time, but those great families never changed. In the good years, Yandu held some six or seven hundred thousand people — such prosperity, such grandeur…”

At this, Liu Jingli nudged Chen Dasheng with his elbow. “You know why that minister just now got beaten?”

Of course Chen Dasheng didn’t know.

Liu Jingli wasn’t really asking anyway; he just laughed and said: “The man was in the back complaining to His Majesty, saying that when we entered the city that day, we killed off the previous dynasty’s nobles and officials too ruthlessly, and it scared the whole city into shutting their doors, too afraid to start up business again. Hmph! A big mouth like that — if we’re not going to beat him, who are we going to beat? Am I right?”

No one answered beside him for a while, and when Liu Jingli turned to look, he saw Chen Dasheng lowering his head, touching the black lacquer mask he wore — a mask with a single horn on the forehead, only the eyes visible, and a mouth of sharp, fierce fangs, genuinely fearsome to behold.

Sensing Liu Jingli watching him, Chen Dasheng lifted the mask and asked: “What is this?”

His Majesty hadn’t had time to explain the last time he’d granted an audience.

Liu Jingli, ever patient, smiled and said: “A horned head, a mighty face — this is the Xiezhi. Go take a walk through the Ministry of Justice tomorrow; that beast is everywhere over there.”

Chen Dasheng didn’t understand, and asked, puzzled: “Why the Ministry of Justice?”

Liu Jingli rubbed his chin, thinking it over for a good while before saying: “I’ve wondered about that myself. They say the Xiezhi understands human speech and human nature — a born divine beast that innately knows right from wrong, which is why the Ministry of Justice keeps it as a guardian. But thinking on it further, the Xiezhi isn’t just about that — it’s also mighty and fierce, and whenever it sees someone dishonest or disloyal, it immediately deals out judgment.

“Perhaps His Majesty wants to be a fair emperor, or maybe — maybe he’s put you at the southern gate hoping that your loyalty can hold back every evil spirit. Who knows, really — but it’s a good beast, and since you all have one now, guard it well. Tomorrow, find a good craftsman and have a fine pouch made for it — young deer hide is the best material — keep it inside and let it season slowly, and in a few years it’ll shine with a beautiful sheen!”

Chen Dasheng solemnly stroked the mask, and after a long moment looked up at Liu Jingli and said: “I understand now. From this day on, we are His Majesty’s own Xiezhi — and his alone! I understand!”

With that, he put the mask back on and turned to sit at the front again.

Liu Jingli felt a chill run over his entire body, breaking out in a cold sweat.

He rubbed his head hard, thinking: right! That’s exactly it! That hit the nail right on the head! It really was that simple.

His Majesty wanted the Changdao Guard to be his own human Xiezhi — which meant from now on, their sense of justice was simply this: whatever opposed His Majesty was evil, and had to be eliminated.

As for the court, as for the law — that was none of their concern.

Just look at that insight.

Once Liu Jingli had worked it out, he felt both envious and jealous. After a good while, he finally walked back to the front and sat down next to Chen Dasheng again, trying to strike up conversation.

Truth be told — a few country boys, all born as indentured servants. There’d been a time when people looked down on them. But now, things were truly different.

He asked with a flattering smile: “Say, little brother, you’ve been staring at that Hou for two days now. What’s the meaning of it?”

Chen Dasheng blinked and, looking at Liu Jingli through the Xiezhi mask, asked: “Isn’t that a lion?”

Liu Jingli nearly fell off the platform. He pointed at the beast and said: “You’re calling that a lion?”

Chen Dasheng nodded earnestly.

Liu Jingli laughed to himself for a good while before saying: “That one’s a divine beast too, but it’s called Wangdiguī. It has nothing to do with us — its job is to keep watch over His Majesty. If our Emperor were to go traveling around and neglect state affairs, it would call out for the Emperor to return and attend to the court. Remember it — this one’s called a Hou, not a lion!”

Chen Dasheng silently repeated it to himself, then nodded to Liu Jingli in thanks: “Thank you, Brother Liu, I’ll remember — Hou!”

“Mm! Hou! In this world, in the end, nobody’s really free, are they? You know, our commander is the Emperor now, and there’s still a Hou standing at his front gate keeping watch on him. I say, if that thing were actually useful, why couldn’t it just jump down and go door to door through the market wards, roaring at everyone to open up shop! That would save our Emperor a lot of trouble…”

Liu Jingli rambled on, but Chen Dasheng cut in: “You said it yourself — it roars. It only watches over our Emperor…”

Chen Dasheng’s voice trailed off, and he suddenly stood up.

Liu Jingli jumped, startled, and stood up too, following Chen Dasheng as he ran along the wall, then along the palace wall for quite a distance. Only then did Chen Dasheng pull off his mask, his face flushed, and say to Liu Jingli: “Thank you, Brother Liu. I know what to do now.”

With that, he ran off down the nearby stairs of the wall.

Guan Si’er and the others stood, about to follow, but Chen Dasheng waved his hand behind him without turning around, and the men immediately crouched back down.

Big Brother didn’t want them to follow.

Liu Jingli, left standing alone, finally shuffled over to Guan Si’er after a good while, nudging him with his shoulder. “Say, Si’er, what did your Blade-Head figure out?”

Guan Si’er blinked and answered as though it were obvious: “My big brother is so smart, and I’m so dumb! How would I know!”

“Don’t you ever think? What’s your head even for?”

“Eating!”

“…”

Chen Dasheng, mask still on his face, moved unimpeded through the outer palace. A guard’s identification tag hung at his waist. Along the way, every guard who saw him bowed low from a distance in respect.

He’d followed Liu Jingli through here a few times before, and now imitated his manner — not looking at anyone, not bothering to return their bows — simply walking up to the side hall’s inner gate, where he handed over his waist saber and the long blade on his back without being asked, letting them pat him down thoroughly per the rules before he was allowed through.

Being patted down was a new rule as of yesterday — apparently someone had gotten into the palace again last night.

“Forgive the intrusion, please go ahead, Sir Jingli,” the inner gate guard said politely, waving him through.

Chen Dasheng continued unimpeded all the way to the side hall. Though guards stood layer upon layer, still no one stopped him.

So he walked up to the side hall entrance and said to the eunuch guarding the door: “Excuse me, I need to see His Majesty.”

The little eunuch smiled at him and slipped quietly into the side hall.

The side hall was busy as usual today; most of what was being said inside, Chen Dasheng didn’t understand, so he simply stood obediently.

A young eunuch nearby brought him a cup of tea; Chen Dasheng took it, drank a few sips, thanked him, and handed the cup back. The eunuch offered him a seat, but he didn’t sit — he just stood there, thinking.

When he was young, he’d listened to his mother. Growing up, whatever his father told him to do, he did. Later, when the whole village fled the war, everyone listened to the old clan elder — who couldn’t even read, and simply directed everyone to run about in confusion; many died, yet no one dared complain, because none of them had any ideas of their own.

Every single person seemed unable to think for themselves without someone directing them, drifting about aimlessly, always needing someone to follow — if no one led the way, they simply wouldn’t move.

Even standing at a crossroads, with every road open before them, people like that didn’t dare take a step, terrified of choosing wrong.

If someone else gave the orders and pointed the way, and it turned out wrong, that was fine — at least their heart felt at ease.

He never understood why he used to think that way.

In the army he’d listened to his commander, listened to Tan Er, listened to his Blade-Head brothers — until the day he himself became a Blade-Head, and then he panicked, thinking: from now on, do I have to make the decisions myself?

What even was having your own ideas?

Not until the day Yangdan died did he finally understand — if he didn’t find a way himself now, he’d never get the chance to think again; he’d simply die in confusion one day, just like his clansmen, his grandfather, his father… Yangdan.

For the first time in his life, Chen Dasheng had relied on his own mind, directed his own two hands, and swung the blade to take Tan Er’s head.

These past few days, he’d forced himself to think, to come up with a plan — a person had to rely on himself in the end.

And so, he had sat quietly by himself for two days, thinking.

A few ministers came out from the inner hall, faces full of worry, clutching memorials.

Today wasn’t bad — His Majesty hadn’t thrown any memorials out at them.

These ministers, seeing Chen Dasheng, were startled; one of them even dropped an armful of memorials scattering across the floor.

Chen Dasheng naturally didn’t bend down to help pick them up. These days, no matter how many beams sat on his head or what bird or beast flew across his chest, his wife had told him — you only listen to His Majesty; you’re His Majesty’s man.

He stood ramrod straight, his masked face imposing and intimidating, radiating a genuinely oppressive presence.

Who knows what these court officials thought — they glanced at him once, startled, and immediately looked away, gazes fixed elsewhere, quietly waiting to see who the unlucky one would be.

The unlucky one this time had a rough time of it — scolded for half the day, his colleague dragged out to be caned and never returned, and now stepping out the door only to be startled by a fierce beast.

This new Emperor — from the man himself down to every minister in his court, every one of them a monster.

Feeling wronged and upset, this particular minister — not old, once a man who’d worn flowers in his cap at the top of the imperial examination rankings, doted on by every woman in the city — began quietly sobbing as he picked up his fallen memorials.

That made him cry? Chen Dasheng felt rather satisfied. Long live the Emperor — I truly am mighty and fierce!

From inside the hall came His Majesty’s voice, asking: “What’s going on out there?”

A young eunuch ran in and said a few words, and His Majesty called out cheerfully: “Dasheng’s here? Come in, then!”

So Chen Dasheng entered the side hall, though he didn’t see His Majesty right away — instead he saw Eunuch She standing on a step-ladder, reaching up to a bookshelf that reached the ceiling to pull down some books.

Four or five young eunuchs stood below, anxiously steadying the ladder, terrified that if anything happened to him, their lives wouldn’t be worth living.

Eunuch She, seeing Chen Dasheng enter wearing his mask, held a few scrolls of books and sat on the ladder, laughing as he asked: “Why’d you wear that thing in here? I heard you scared Scholar Zhang to tears? Aren’t you stifled under there? Take it off already!”

Was he even allowed to take it off? Chen Dasheng immediately reached up and pulled off the mask, his expression a strange mixture.

Eunuch She laughed even harder on the ladder.

Not understanding why the man was laughing at him, but seeing him laughing so warmly, Chen Dasheng felt he ought to smile back too, and bowed slightly, saying: “Thank you, sir. I didn’t know — it’s very stuffy under there. Since His Majesty granted it to me, I didn’t know if I was allowed to take it off…” Realizing he’d worn it for two whole days, he felt a bit wronged, rubbing the mask and muttering: “I’ve worn it for two days already — I thought once I entered the palace I had to keep it on…”

Eunuch She, of course, heard him muttering, and burst out laughing again on the ladder.

Just as he was laughing his hardest, His Majesty came out from the back, beaming. As he walked, Zhang Minwang trotted along behind him, helping him with his trousers and tying his sash…

His Majesty said: “You two really do get along.” He nodded approvingly at Chen Dasheng. “When you have nothing to do, go visit your Eunuch She’s courtyard more often, keep him company, make him happy.”

If His Majesty had given the order, then it had to be done.

Chen Dasheng bowed and said: “Yes!” Then he turned and asked Eunuch She: “Which courtyard do you live in, sir? I’m not allowed into the back palace either.” He looked down at his identity tag and added: “The kind Eunuch Zhang wears lets him go to the back — I’d need one of those too…”

Before he could finish, Eunuch She started laughing again, laughing so hard he nearly collapsed, swaying on the ladder.

Zhang Minwang, having just finished tying His Majesty’s sash, ran over to help steady Eunuch She down from the ladder.

Once he’d finally finished laughing, His Majesty said nothing, but Eunuch She spoke first: “You rascal, aren’t you supposed to be guarding the palace out front for your Emperor? What brings you to the back?”

Chen Dasheng nodded seriously: “Yes, I have business.”

His Majesty tossed aside an open memorial and asked with a smile: “Oh? You have business? Go on, then, what is it?”

Chen Dasheng sniffed, walked up to the daybed where they were half-reclining, bowed properly first, then rose and said with utmost solemnity: “I want to borrow money!”

“Hahahaha…”

Eunuch She nearly lost his mind, laughing again, and finally pointed at the door and shouted: “I can’t take it, I can’t take it, I’ve met my match — drag this fellow out, drag him out, or I’ll die laughing right here today… borrowing money, borrowing money from the Emperor himself, hahaha…”

He was having such a good time that His Majesty couldn’t possibly let Chen Dasheng be dragged out, so he asked with a smile: “Hey, why would we drag our Stinkhead out? The man’s talking business — go on, what do you need to borrow money for?”

Chen Dasheng was quite puzzled — how did His Majesty know his nickname was Stinkhead? He also didn’t understand why Eunuch She kept laughing; none of this seemed funny to him at all. He’d gone behind his wife’s back and was about to go into debt, which weighed on him rather heavily.

A little annoyed, Chen Dasheng glanced at Eunuch She — but he couldn’t afford to offend the man, so he pressed his lips together and said: “To buy cloth!!”

That did it — His Majesty started laughing too, and everyone in the room lost it entirely, bursting into uproarious laughter all at once, startling the few departing old ministers who hadn’t gone far, making them freeze in place and stare blankly toward the side hall, wondering — were they laughing at how useless we are?

Chen Dasheng stood quietly, watching until they all grew a bit embarrassed, and only then did His Majesty wipe his eyes and ask, somewhat apologetically: “What made you think to borrow money from Us to buy cloth?”

Chen Dasheng, feeling wronged, said with some irritation: “No one else is around! Little Blossom went out on campaign with the old Earl. My wife said — if there’s trouble, go find Lord Zeng, His Majesty told Lord Zeng to look after me, so he has to take care of me! If Lord Zeng isn’t around, find Lord Guo. If neither of them is around, find His Majesty…”

Everyone above was already struggling not to laugh, cheeks puffed out; Zhang Minwang, eyes brimming with tears, mouth open, patted Eunuch She’s back to help him breathe, when he heard Chen Dasheng continue, even more aggrieved: “None of them are around today! I’m not asking to borrow from you out of choice — oh, I’m a subject! This subject doesn’t know anyone!”

“Pfft…” Eunuch She blew out a mouthful of air through his cheeks and collapsed, clutching his stomach.

His Majesty, both exasperated and amused, asked: “Your wife said this?”

Chen Dasheng nodded: “Mm, my wife said so.”

His Majesty, exasperated at his lack of ambition, said: “You’re Our City Gate Marquis! You don’t listen to Us, you listen to your wife? You’re not Chang Mianshen, who can’t beat his own wife in a fight — why do you listen to her?”

Chen Dasheng was utterly astonished. He looked at His Majesty with complete sincerity and said: “It’s hard enough to get a wife — why would I hit her?”

Heavens. The great lady of the back palace was to be pitied.

Though no one knew quite what this simple, honest fellow was thinking, the look of sympathy in his eyes, and the glance he suddenly cast toward the back palace, said everything that needed saying.

Eunuch She had laughed himself into a fit, pointing at the door and shouting: “Get out! Get out of here! If I look at you one more second I’ll die laughing, hahaha…”

His Majesty, helpless, asked Chen Dasheng with amused curiosity: “Fine, none of them are around, your wife told you — you really do listen to her! Go on, then, how much money do you want to borrow? How much cloth?”

Chen Dasheng thought seriously for a moment, counting on his fingers, and finally said, troubled: “I don’t know, actually… I can’t work it out…”

Eunuch She simply rolled right off the daybed onto the floor.

His Majesty grabbed a memorial and flung it at Chen Dasheng. “You don’t even know, and you come find Us!”

Chen Dasheng dodged the memorial and earnestly explained to His Majesty: “No, no, not me — this subject. I’m a subject, I don’t even know my letters — oh, forgive me, Your Majesty, this subject doesn’t read, doesn’t do numbers either. So — so how would I know how many tailor shops there are in the whole city?”

His Majesty was stunned, and asked: “You want to make clothes? Go around to every tailor in the city?”

Eunuch She had gradually stopped laughing and pulled himself back up onto the daybed.

Once seated, he asked Chen Dasheng with a smile: “Don’t you know — not a single shop is open in all of Yandu right now. Even with money and cloth in hand, no one would sew it for you. Just be patient a little longer.”

Chen Dasheng blinked, took a breath, and said earnestly: “I know that. That’s exactly why His Majesty’s been so worried, and why I sat there thinking for two days. So what if the shops aren’t open? I’ve got money, I’ve got cloth — I’ll just knock on the door! People have to eat, don’t they! They can’t just sit there forever without working to feed their families, can they?”

The room fell instantly silent.

Ever since they’d entered Yandu, this capital city had felt like something dead. His Majesty, his ministers, his former advisors — how many schemes had they tried, how many edicts of relief had they issued — and still they couldn’t get the common folk to trust them.

And now, someone who couldn’t even read, who couldn’t even count, stood here saying: it’s simple, are you all fools? Take money and cloth, knock on the door, that’s it.

Right. Just knock on the door.

His Majesty slowly stood up, paced the room a few times, and finally walked over to Chen Dasheng, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder several times, before saying with real relief in his voice: “Right! If they won’t open the door, then we’ll go knock on it ourselves. You… you sat out there for two days just thinking about this?”

This boy had always been direct by nature, and spoke to His Majesty the same way. He nodded matter-of-factly: “That’s right. I — this subject has a lot to deal with, been really busy. My wife wanted me to bathe and I didn’t even go, my post’s a mess, things are piled up everywhere. I’m sick, this subject — sitting there unmoving for two days, I… oh, I’m a subject!”