Daxing City.

This capital — once the symbol of Great Chu’s supremacy — was now the last fig leaf of its glory, and what it covered was not someone who had the grace to feel shame, but a collection of people who had none.

The city still looked prosperous on the surface. All manner of officials and nobility still wore fine silks and rode magnificent horses. The women’s robes still bloomed like embroidered flowers. The swords at men’s hips still pointed at the world as if ready to carve out kingdoms.

The Eastern Palace.

Crown Prince Yang Jing sat on the steps at the main hall entrance, staring into nothing. Or perhaps he was staring at something — his eyes were cast downward at the ground, and the ground was bare stone. What was there to see?

A few ants passed back and forth. They were probably busy scrambling to survive — much like the people throughout the realm.

The Eastern Palace’s eunuch chief steward, Wen Xiudao, came jogging back from outside, bowed before Yang Jing, and said: “Your Highness, the Director-General requests an audience.”

Yang Jing’s eyes flashed with a brief hatred — but by the time he raised his head, only delight remained on his face.

“What brings my godfather here?”

A grown Crown Prince, speaking those two words — *godfather* — without the slightest hesitation, with something almost like excitement.

Liu Chongxin, the eunuch Director-General of the Surveillance Bureau, came gliding in from outside, and upon seeing Crown Prince Yang Jing, hurried forward and bowed. “Your Highness.”

Yang Jing stepped toward Liu Chongxin, clasped both hands around his arm, and said: “Godfather, did you miss me? Did you come especially to see me?”

“Ha ha ha ha—”

Liu Chongxin laughed heartily, and then in a tone that managed to be both satisfied and somehow warmly genuine, said: “Your Highness, I must ask you — please don’t address this old servant as ‘godfather’ anymore. This old servant belongs to His Majesty, and belongs to Your Highness as well. If the court officials heard that term, they would speak poorly of Your Highness.”

Yang Jing waved a hand. “And I should be afraid of them? That useless lot — they’re not worth a second thought.”

“Godfather,” he asked, “is there good news?”

Liu Chongxin nodded. “The imperial envoy bound for Jizhou has set out, bearing His Majesty’s edict. His Majesty heard from this old servant about the situation in Jizhou, and also learned that some minor troublemakers had appeared outside the capital. He has therefore agreed to Your Highness’s petition — to recall Prince Wu’s army to Jingzhou to suppress the rebels.”

Yang Jing exhaled with relief, though a flicker of alarm crossed his face. “Those rebels are so frightening — they’ve already reached Jingzhou. If Prince Wu isn’t recalled soon, they might actually dare march on the capital. Once Prince Wu is recalled, we’ll wipe those petty villains out — nine generations of their families, all of them!”

“Yes, yes, Your Highness is quite right. A crime of this gravity certainly demands the extermination of nine generations.”

Liu Chongxin said, somewhat ruefully: “And yet, this old servant was reluctant at first to recall Prince Wu. Prince Wu doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him.”

“Godfather, just have him come back and wipe out the rebels, and then send him packing again,” Yang Jing said.

He took Liu Chongxin by the hand. “Godfather, I’ve just thought of something fun — come see.”

“Your Highness is ever so fond of play,” Liu Chongxin said, smiling.

Yang Jing led Liu Chongxin to an open courtyard, pointed at a grid of squares he had chalked on the ground, then pointed at a pile of roof tiles. “I haven’t thought of a proper name yet — let’s just call it tile-kick. Let me demonstrate for Godfather.”

Liu Chongxin watched with an indulgent smile. After a few rounds, Yang Jing pulled him into the game as well. Before long the tiles were all broken. Yang Jing’s expression fell slightly. He looked left and right — no fresh tiles — and then pointed at the roof. “Someone go up there and pull down more tiles!”

Liu Chongxin quickly intervened: “Your Highness, that really cannot be done. If the court officials heard of it, it would reflect poorly on Your Highness.”

“Tearing tiles off my own roof — what business is it of theirs? Are those people ill? If they start mouthing off, I’ll send someone to tear the tiles off their roofs.”

“Go on,” Yang Jing said, “bring me plenty.”

Liu Chongxin wanted to dissuade the Crown Prince further, but Yang Jing simply wouldn’t hear it — no one’s admonishments were of any use when he was in the middle of a game. How could he possibly stop now?

A crowd of Eastern Palace servants and guards scrambled to fetch ladders, climbed onto the roof, and began pulling tiles down for the Crown Prince.

Unable to persuade him, Liu Chongxin had no choice but to play along. They played for well over half an hour before Liu Chongxin mentioned he had pressing matters to attend to at the palace. Yang Jing was put out, complaining that Godfather hadn’t let him play to his heart’s content. Liu Chongxin promised to return tomorrow, and only then was he permitted to leave.

After leaving the Eastern Palace, Liu Chongxin did not return to the inner palace. He went directly to the Yuwen family estate.

Everyone in Daxing City knew where the Yuwen family’s great compound stood. In sheer size, it was not much smaller than the palace complex itself. Such a violation of propriety — and no one managed it, because the Emperor didn’t manage it.

The Emperor hadn’t held court in decades. He refused to see those officials for a year at a stretch — the sight of them annoyed him. All affairs were transmitted through Liu Chongxin. If Liu Chongxin didn’t speak, the Emperor didn’t know. If Liu Chongxin did speak, the Emperor still found it too much trouble and preferred to keep playing.

Liu Chongxin seemed to know the place well. He entered without a guide, went directly to the study room of Yuwen Chonghe, and knocked on the door from outside, saying: “Old fox Yuwen, I’ve come.”

Yuwen Chonghe was past sixty, yet didn’t look it. Perhaps it was his years of ease and comfort, or perhaps it was his daily practice of martial arts, but he appeared younger than his age.

“Honored Director, what a visit!”

Yuwen Chonghe hurried forward to support Liu Chongxin’s arm and usher him inside. “You come to my home as a guest, Director — you should have sent word ahead. As it is, I’ve had no time to prepare, which I fear is disrespectful.”

Liu Chongxin laughed heartily. “Old fox Yuwen, do we need such ceremony between us?”

He sat down. “I just visited the Eastern Palace. Accompanied the Crown Prince in some play.”

Yuwen Chonghe asked: “His Highness… has he been well lately? I haven’t seen him in some time.”

“In excellent spirits,” Liu Chongxin said. “These past few days he’s thought of a new diversion — had people climb up on the roof and pull tiles down to kick around. I ask you — our Crown Prince, compared to our Emperor, seems to surpass even him.”

Yuwen Chonghe sighed. “In his younger years, His Highness had a fine reputation — at seven years old he could out-argue anyone. How is it that with age he becomes more and more like a child?”

“Nothing strange about it,” Liu Chongxin said. “Look at our Emperor — isn’t he the same?”

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said: “If His Highness is a bit childlike, it doesn’t much matter. If he weren’t at all childlike…”

He looked at Yuwen Chonghe. Yuwen Chonghe immediately began to smile — the smile of an old fox — and Liu Chongxin smiled with him.

“Precisely. It doesn’t matter at all.”

“His Highness being playful means,” Yuwen Chonghe said, “that when there are matters of state he doesn’t understand, isn’t the Director there to guide him? Aren’t we ministers here to serve?”

“Exactly right,” Liu Chongxin said, smiling. “A few years ago I was somewhat uneasy watching the Crown Prince want a hand in everything. Since last year, he’s wanted a hand in nothing — and I’m still somewhat uneasy.”

He looked at Yuwen Chonghe. “If His Highness truly intends to spend his days in play, then those of us who serve — as officials, as servants — ought to let him enjoy himself a few more years.”

Yuwen Chonghe laughed out loud. “When His Highness has something to play with, we have something to play with.”

Liu Chongxin laughed along. After a moment, he turned to Yuwen Chonghe and asked: “I came to ask you something. Once Prince Wu returns — can you keep him in check?”

He turned serious at once. The smile that had been on Yuwen Chonghe’s face vanished instantly, and he leaned forward slightly. “Director, be at ease. We simply don’t let Prince Wu enter the capital. He comes back — that’s fine. He comes back but can’t get in…”

Liu Chongxin, who had just composed himself, burst out laughing again, pointing at Yuwen Chonghe. “Old fox — I knew you were an old fox. Ha ha ha ha — let’s do it that way. Prince Wu returns to Jingzhou to suppress the rebels. Once it’s done, we send him back to Jizhou where he belongs. And as for Prince Yu — he’s no good bird either. Let the two brothers tear each other apart.”

Yuwen Chonghe said: “The Director’s foresight is remarkable. My deep admiration.”

“Oh,” Liu Chongxin added, “yesterday in the palace I noticed several unfamiliar faces among the palace maids. I asked — apparently they were all sent in on your behalf?”

Yuwen Chonghe immediately rose and bowed. “I had someone inform the Director of this matter — did the people below not convey it?”

Liu Chongxin waved a hand. “The people below telling me is different from you telling me personally — I may or may not get around to seeing them. In the future, matters like this, let’s have you tell me directly. Otherwise it’ll be like this time — I killed them all before I found out you’d arranged for them to enter the palace. That’s rather inconvenient.”

“Yes, yes, of course… truly my oversight, Director. Please be assured — something like this will absolutely not happen again.”

The shadow that had crossed Liu Chongxin’s face vanished in an instant — faster than the finest quick-change act.

He smiled broadly. “If Grand Councillor Yuwen wishes to render further service to His Majesty, just say the word. I know what His Majesty likes and what he doesn’t. You come to me, and I’ll help you make the selection.”

He rose. “I won’t impose any further.”

He walked out with long strides. Yuwen Chonghe hadn’t quite managed to get his shoes on and padded after him in bare feet all the way to the gate.

Liu Chongxin had of course noticed, but said nothing, walking along until they reached the outer gate of the Yuwen compound. He turned, saw Yuwen Chonghe’s bare feet, and feigned great surprise. “Goodness — Grand Councillor, you are too kind to this old servant. Going barefoot like this.”

He kicked his own shoes off and tossed them on the ground. “Here, put these on. We can’t have you catching cold.”

Yuwen Chonghe bowed his thanks immediately. He did not hand Liu Chongxin’s shoes back — instead he bent down and picked both up with his own hands, thanked him again, and held them.

Liu Chongxin laughed aloud, boarded his carriage, and waved. “Let’s go. Back to the palace.”

Back home, Yuwen Chonghe handed the shoes to his steward without a second glance. “Take these, wash them thoroughly, then box them in a jade case and place them on my writing desk. Make sure everyone hears about this.”

“Yes, sir!”

The steward hurried off with the shoes, calling for someone to wash them.

Shortly after, Yuwen Chonghe’s eldest son, Yuwen Chi, came in from outside with a tight expression. He raised a hand. “Everyone, out.”

The servants in the room all filed out.

Yuwen Chi looked at his father. “Father — how long must we tolerate that castrated wretch?”

“Half a year at most.”

Yuwen Chonghe pointed at the teapot. Yuwen Chi moved quickly to replace it with fresh tea, then poured his father a cup.

“The time is nearly right,” Yuwen Chonghe said. “I’ve passed the word — the rebel forces outside the city should press a little closer toward the capital. Old fox Liu Chongxin will be frightened enough to agree, and the edict to Jizhou has already gone out calling Prince Wu back.”

He looked at Yuwen Chi. “Half a year, roughly.”

“And if Prince Wu won’t come back?” Yuwen Chi asked.

“If he doesn’t come back,” Yuwen Chonghe said, “does he not fear that Great Chu will simply cease to exist? Whatever affairs there are at the northern frontier — none of them outweigh what happens in Jingzhou.”

He leaned back, eyes half-closed. “You might start thinking about how many charges can be leveled at Liu Chongxin. When the time comes, whoever presents them first — the Crown Prince will remember that person most clearly.”

Yuwen Chonghe’s fingers tapped lightly against the table, once, twice, three times — like a man drumming his fingers on the empire itself.

—