What Xiao Jin cared about was not whether he made the trip or not. In former times, anything concerning the Eastern Palace — however trivial or weighty — the Emperor would have Xiao Jin handle personally, trusting it to no one else.

Now, summoning the imperial grandson had become an ordinary matter, one that others could attend to just as well.

Xiao Jin had no way of knowing what was truly in the Emperor’s mind.

……

Pei Shaohuai knew nothing of what had taken place at the Palace Secretariat. During the Spring Festival holiday, he and Yang Shiyue took their two children visiting relatives, finding leisure within the busyness.

On the day they visited General Situ’s residence, Pei Shaohuai had barely sat down, before he had even had time to pick up his tea, when Situ’s second brother-in-law had his eldest and second daughters come out to bow deeply before him.

“Greetings to Second Younger Uncle.”

Situ Si, at sixteen, and Situ Yun, at fourteen, had both reached the age of betrothal. Pei Shaohuai could not help but admire the Situ family’s bloodline — his two nieces by marriage were tall and willowy, even taller than Yang Shiyue, with features that did not carry the gentle, smooth look of the Pei family, but instead bore a touch of heroic spirit.

“Does younger brother-in-law still remember the promise he made to me years ago?”

“What matter is Second Brother-in-law referring to?”

“How can you have forgotten?” Situ’s second brother-in-law slapped his knee, with a look of urgency on his face. He waved to have his two daughters withdraw first, then said: “It was about finding a scholar husband for Si’er and Yun’er.”

“A fine and accomplished scholar,” Situ’s second brother-in-law emphasized.

Having distinguished himself in guarding Shanhai Pass, Situ’s second brother-in-law had long since risen to the rank of third-grade general, and no small number of families had come forward to seek the match. Yet he was set on having his daughters marry a man of scholarly learning.

“What qualifies as a ‘fine and accomplished scholar’ is a condition that isn’t easy to pin down,” Pei Shaohuai said, finding it a difficult request.

Situ’s second brother-in-law said: “All you need to do is say he is one of your students, or someone you personally approve of — that will be more than good enough.”

“The young ladies would also need to be willing.”

“They are willing — I’ve already asked.”

Situ’s second brother-in-law thought for a moment, furrowed his brow, let out a long “tsk,” and added: “Now that you hold an important post at court, matchmaking through your own students would reflect poorly on your reputation. This way — when the autumn examinations come next year, just tell me who stands out, who is worth trusting, and I’ll send my men to station themselves below the posting board with a sack, ready to ambush the moment the list is posted. So long as the list is out, we’ll bundle them and bring them straight back to the residence — that way it’s got nothing to do with you. What do you say?”

Pei Shaohuai didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The tradition of “catching a son-in-law below the examination board” was not carried out quite like this.

“Second Brother-in-law, you must not do that. In broad daylight, the moment that sack of yours comes down, your rank of third-grade general would be finished.” Pei Shaohuai urged. “If there is a candidate worth considering, the proper way is to first send a matchmaker to test the waters, and then present a golden whip below the examination board — that is what a double blessing looks like.”

“I know, I know — it’s only because I got impatient that I talked about using a sack.”

Just then, Pei Ruolan, having apparently heard from her daughters and knowing that Situ’s second brother-in-law was once again going about things heavy-handedly, came hurrying over from the rear courtyard. Stepping through the door, she immediately said: “Eldest Brother, pay him no mind.”

Giving Situ’s second brother-in-law a light, scolding nudge, Pei Ruolan continued: “Si Jie’er and Yun Jie’er’s affairs have already been discussed with Mother, the sisters, and the sisters-in-law. Eldest Brother need not let it distract you from official matters.”

Ever since Si Jie’er’s incident at the opera house — the painful repetition of a mistake — Pei Ruolan had grown considerably clearer-headed. Knowing that her own judgment of people was not quite reliable, and knowing the matter concerned her daughters’ futures, she had taken to visiting her family home often, and listened closely to Lin Shi’s and her elder sister’s opinions.

Situ’s second brother-in-law leaned back, muttering: “I only wanted younger brother-in-law to help look out for someone too — he’s extraordinarily good at reading people, and having one more set of reliable eyes does no harm.”

Watching his second elder sister and her husband this way, Pei Shaohuai thought to himself: the strange twist of fate that had brought them together all those years ago had borne good fruit after all — something truly rare.

……

The spring holiday drew to a close, and officials returned to court.

Yet Chief Eunuch Xiao applied for leave from the Emperor on the very first day back in session. He said to the Emperor: “Your Majesty, this old servant intends to visit Zhihua Chan Temple to bathe and offer incense, to pray with sincere devotion for Da Qing’s blessing. I beg Your Majesty’s gracious permission.”

Eunuchs, having been castrated, were largely followers of the law of cause and effect, and the habit of burning incense and worshipping Buddha was common among them — Chief Eunuch Xiao was no exception.

Moreover, those subjected to punishment by mutilation were not permitted burial in the ancestral graveyard after death. Eunuchs with sufficient wealth and influence would spend their lives tending to the incense of temples, and after death would be interred in the temple’s burial grounds. Ordinary small eunuchs could only be wrapped in a grass mat and left in the open wilderness. Xiao Jin was old now, and had long made arrangements for his own final affairs.

Though the Emperor knew that Xiao Jin’s intent was not truly about offering incense, he still said: “You have Our permission.”

“This old servant thanks Your Majesty.”

The winter days are short, and though it was only the early hours of the evening, the sky was already growing dark.

Xiao Jin returned from offering incense, and on his way back to the palace, his route happened to pass by the Jingchuan Earl’s residence. Dressed in a dark cloak, he stepped down from the carriage, slipped into the alley, and knocked at the back gate of the Earl’s residence.

The steward opened the gate. By the lantern’s light, he saw an elderly man dressed in silks and satins, his hair crown neatly set, with a refined pale complexion and low, gentle eyes — the steward took him for a learned scholar and asked: “Whom does the gentleman seek? What is your business?”

“Please pass word to the eldest young master of the residence — tell him Xiao Jin has an urgent matter and has come to call.”

Pei Shaohuai found a quiet place to receive his visitor.

Below the pot, the firewood burned bright; above the stove, cooking smoke rose. The kitchen was busy at that hour, and the pine-wood smoke drifting from the stove drifted through the evening breeze into the small reception courtyard.

Xiao Jin twitched the tip of his nose and could not help stepping to the window, where he drew in several slow breaths, murmuring with feeling: “It has been a very long time since I last smelled smoke like this.”

“It is nothing but the ordinary smell of hearth and home,” Pei Shaohuai said.

Xiao Jin gave a low smile, shook his head, and replied: “Lord Pei does not know — wherever there are people, there is the smoke of hearth and home. But it is only in a clean and honest place that one can smell a clean and honest smoke.” There is no shortage of hearthfire in this world — what is scarce is an honest place to smell it.

Xiao Jin narrowed his eyes; his thoughts drifted. He murmured: “The pine wood burning in Lord Pei’s home must be cut up in the dry days of autumn — because pine wood in spring and summer is full of sap, the trunk thick and sticky, and an axe cannot cut through it at all…” He trailed off in a daze, then came back to himself, laughing softly at his own foolishness: “I have gone off on a tangent — at my age, one cannot help but find the mind wandering to trivial things of the past.”

The last time they met, Pei Shaohuai had used the cover of drunkenness to remind Chief Eunuch Xiao to “take his time on the road home” — and yet not only had he not slowed down, he had come directly to Pei Shaohuai’s door instead. Pei Shaohuai asked plainly: “What is it that Chief Eunuch Xiao actually wishes to discuss?” Truthfully, Pei Shaohuai had not initially wanted to involve himself in the power struggle over the imperial succession — yet in reality, so long as he remained in the court and sought to advance new policies, entanglement was unavoidable.

It was simply not possible to remain uninvolved.

And if he stood apart — what then of the Yang family, the Xu family, the Chen family?

Noticing Pei Shaohuai’s wariness, Chief Eunuch Xiao said: “My coming here tonight was not at His Majesty’s command — yet His Majesty is aware of it. Lord Pei need not be uneasy.”

He was putting Pei Shaohuai’s guard at rest while also making clear that his allegiance was solely to the Emperor.

The reason Pei Shaohuai had been willing to receive Xiao Jin today was that he understood: with a wise ruler on the throne, eunuchs could not stir up too great a wave. Xiao Jin could be close to the Son of Heaven, but he could not deceive the Son of Heaven. As Xiao Jin himself had said — whatever he did, the Emperor was aware of it.

Only when the Son of Heaven was incapable, or when the Son of Heaven distrusted his civil officials and needed eunuchs to keep them in check, would eunuchs truly “hold sway.” Eunuchs were unencumbered by ties of family or faction — they were the most convenient chess pieces of all.

“If what Chief Eunuch Xiao says is true, why the urgency to make this trip?” Pei Shaohuai asked.

Xiao Jin did not conceal it, and answered plainly: “That my allegiance is solely to His Majesty is true. That I have private partiality is also true.” He leaned forward in his chair toward Pei Shaohuai and spoke earnestly: “I ask Lord Pei to reach out and lend a hand to the Crown Prince, Your Highness. The Crown Prince needs a trustworthy minister at his side.”

“Does Chief Eunuch Xiao understand what he is saying?” Pei Shaohuai slapped the table and rose, his words carrying anger. “Please take your leave!”

“A ruler’s three visits to the thatched cottage” — the Eastern Palace should come in person. “Entrusting a loyal minister” — it should be the Son of Heaven who speaks the word. Even “a powerful minister taking charge of governance” — even that should be Pei Shaohuai’s own calculation.

In any of these cases, it was not Chief Eunuch Xiao’s place to open this conversation.

What was this, then? Tying Pei Shaohuai to the Crown Prince’s ship by force — so that if one day things turned and fell apart, Pei Shaohuai would be dragged down completely as well, bearing the charge of deliberately plotting rebellion.

Besides, what lay in a man’s heart is hidden deep — who could say with certainty what Xiao Jin’s true nature was, or what he truly intended?

“Lord Pei, please calm your anger.” Xiao Jin said with remorse. “This servant has misspoken.”

He explained: “If not for the Emperor’s intention to have Lord Pei enter the Palace Secretariat and spend more time in contact with the Crown Prince — if not for the Emperor’s instruction that Lord Pei lecture the Imperial Eldest Grandson — if this servant had not come to know of these things, how would I dare act on my own initiative and come to call on Lord Pei without permission?”

It was because the Emperor had this intention that Xiao Jin had dared to take one step further.

Xiao Jin changed his approach and said with a note of entreaty: “Lord Pei may regard this servant’s visit today as nothing more than passing along information. What is to be done — that is entirely for Lord Pei to decide.”

He continued: “The inner palace and the outer court, within the palace walls and beyond them — all of it is entangled together. Lord Pei, there is no harm in listening.”

Pei Shaohuai sat back down, and Xiao Jin recounted everything he had seen on the fifth day of the first month.

In a few sentences, Pei Shaohuai grasped the danger within.

Hu Qi and Wang Gaoxiang defying the Emperor directly was a minister transgressing against his ruler — spoken more seriously, it could even be construed as forming a faction to commit treason. But if they placed the Crown Prince in front as a shield, the nature of the matter changed entirely — they could be cast as loyal ministers standing firmly behind the heir, working for Da Qing’s future. The contradiction would transform into a contest between father and son.

In other words, they were simply using the Crown Prince as their sword.

When the Son of Heaven grows old and the throne must pass, these are exactly the circumstances in which such situations most readily arise.

“Lord Pei will surely grasp what is at stake here. This servant is a small figure and will not presume to discuss the court with Your Lordship. There is only one thing this servant wishes to say.” Xiao Jin spoke with genuine feeling: “His Majesty holds the Crown Prince in his heart, and the Crown Prince holds the Emperor in deep reverence. Can Your Lordship bear to watch them — father and son — be plotted against by their own ministers, a wedge driven between them, each nursing a knife-wound in their own chest?”

Hu Qi and Wang Gaoxiang sought to use the Crown Prince’s influence to obstruct the new evaluation system and throw the court into disorder — on that basis alone, Pei Shaohuai would not stand by and do nothing.

Pei Shaohuai asked: “Chief Eunuch Xiao has private partiality — but why? I must at least have a reason, surely?” There had to be some cause behind this partiality toward the Crown Prince.

“If I said it was because Empress Xiaozhen was kind-hearted, that she treated those beneath her well, and that I once received her kindness — or that the Crown Prince lost his mother while still young, and that I watched him grow up before my eyes — would Your Lordship believe me?”

“Xiaozhen” was the posthumous title of the first Empress.

Pei Shaohuai remained silent. Xiao Jin’s account was understandable — but not fully convincing.

It was not enough.

Xiao Jin understood this. He fell silent for a moment, then shifted course and asked: “Does Your Lordship know how the eunuchs of the palace come to enter it?”

This was about to lay bare a wound. Pei Shaohuai did not know how to respond.

Xiao Jin did not wait for Pei Shaohuai to speak. He answered himself: “Those who do not know all assume that one presents oneself to the Board of Rites for selection, and upon being chosen, enters the palace — and only then is the operation performed.”

The Emperor had still been Crown Prince in the Eastern Palace when Xiao Jin had begun to serve at his side, making it clear he had entered the palace as a young boy — castrated before he ever arrived.

Xiao Jin gave a bitter smile and continued: “What they do not know is that of those selected by the Board of Rites, five or six in ten have already undergone the operation before being sent for consideration.”

He was one of those five or six in ten.

In the counties surrounding the capital, poor commoners envied the wealth and comfort of palace eunuchs. Some would castrate themselves in private, hoping to be taken into service. Some who were already married, with nowhere left to turn, would do the same. These men who had undergone the operation beforehand would receive a scolding from the Board of Rites — but the Board would also turn a blind eye and allow them to enter the palace as they had hoped.

“I was born into a farming family. We had more than ten mu of good land — poor but not destitute. From the time my mother died, the household changed.”

“He quickly remarried a woman named Huang, who bore him another son. That day, I came home from chopping firewood on the mountain to find a lavish table set with all the dishes I loved most. They smiled and said it was to celebrate my birthday. I was overjoyed, rushed inside to change into fresh clothes, then came to the table and picked up my rice bowl — without the slightest suspicion. They didn’t touch their chopsticks. They said I was the one being honored that day, and told me to eat more…”

Listening to Xiao Jin’s tone — calm yet shadowed with darkness beneath — it was clear this was a scene he had never been able to forget for the rest of his life. The price he had paid for trusting his “family.”

Pei Shaohuai could already deduce what had followed and why. He wanted to speak, to ask Xiao Jin not to tear open the wound further — but Xiao Jin showed no intention of stopping.

“Knockout drugs do not come cheap. They used a generous dose. When I came back to my senses, everything had already been decided.” Xiao Jin did not choke on his words; there was instead a sense of something long needing release. He said: “Who could believe it — that a man’s own father had performed the deed on his firstborn son with his own hands.”