At Prince Yu’s residence.

Dressed in mourning white, his complexion ashen — these past few days had been an ordeal for Yang Zhuo, the heir apparent of Prince Yu. Against that white mourning garb, his face looked as if some demon had taken up residence within him and drained every last drop of blood.

The smaller mourning period ran three days; the full mourning, seven. The consort’s coffin would not be interred until seven days after her death, and as the eldest son, Yang Zhuo was required to keep vigil at the mourning hall for all seven days.

Why “smaller” and “full”? It depended on the person.

Yang Zhuo’s one consuming thought was vengeance for his mother. He refused to believe that Xiahou Zuo’s storming of the Prince’s residence had been entirely unpremeditated — and his sister Xiahou Yili had been hiding among the entertainers, which pointed strongly to her having been behind it.

He did not even believe the words that steward Song Chunming had spoken before his death. To Yang Zhuo, those were utter nonsense — anyone who believed them was a fool.

A common little county magistrate — capable of driving a man like Song Chunming to die on his behalf?

He had turned the whole affair over in his mind a thousand times over these past days of kneeling vigil, and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that nothing here could be separated from Xiahou Zuo.

His father Prince Yu was on the verge of raising his banner. Yang Zhuo believed that with the might of the Jizhou army, taking the capital would be no difficult thing. When that day came, his father would be the Emperor of Dachu — and he would be the rightful Crown Prince of Dachu.

His mother was of the Yuwen clan, and with the all-powerful Yuwen clan standing behind his father, failure was nearly impossible.

And Xiahou Zuo — who had always performed this show of having no ambitions — had revealed his true nature precisely now, on the eve of the uprising.

As Yang Zhuo saw it: Xiahou Zuo had arranged for assassins to kill the consort. With the consort gone, his father would lose the Yuwen clan’s support — and his father might then elevate Xiahou Zuo’s mother to consort. With that, Xiahou Zuo would become the future Crown Prince of Dachu.

At this thought, Yang Zhuo’s eyes went nearly bloodshot with fury — a hatred carved down into the marrow of his bones.

For these past several days he had thought of nothing else but how to have Xiahou Zuo and his entire family killed — every last one of them, to be cut to pieces. But he did not know how he could actually do it. The people his mother had kept about her — Jing Yanli and the rest — were all dead. He, as the Prince’s heir, had been stripped of whatever strength the Yuwen clan had once lent him.

His father would certainly not support him in this. So his father’s resources were entirely beyond his reach.

Who, then, could he use?

On the fourth day after the consort’s assassination, Yang Zhuo finally thought of someone he could exploit: the Xu family.

He had gone through countless names before landing on this one — and the only reason he thought of the Xu family at all was because of the enmity between the Xu family and Li Chi, and Xiahou Zuo’s obvious allegiance to Li Chi’s side.

Yang Zhuo rose at the thought of it. His personal guard Chen Fengli quickly reached out to steady him — he had been kneeling so long that the blood had stopped flowing to his legs, and when he stood up his knees buckled involuntarily beneath him.

“Your Highness, take care.”

Chen Fengli asked quietly, “Shall I escort you to the privy, Your Highness?”

Yang Zhuo assented. “Come with me.”

Chen Fengli supported his arm as they walked out, and once they had reached a less-trafficked spot Yang Zhuo stopped and looked at Chen Fengli. “As I recall — your family is from Yanzhou, isn’t it?”

Chen Fengli replied, “Your Highness has an excellent memory. You only asked me once, offhandedly, and you still remembered. My family has indeed lived in Yanzhou for generations. I enlisted when His Highness was posted to the frontier, and afterward stayed on by his side. All told, it has been many years since I last went home.”

“Ah…”

Yang Zhuo said, “Does your family still have people there?”

Chen Fengli shook his head. “There have been no letters home in a long time. I wrote once, but received no reply. Later I had someone inquire, and was told the family had moved — but where, no one could say.”

Yang Zhuo said, “That is truly unfortunate. Tell you what — when this is done, I will ask my father to send word to the Yanzhou authorities and have them make inquiries on your behalf under the Prince’s residence’s name. That should turn up something. It has been all these years — surely you miss your family.”

Chen Fengli said at once, “I certainly do miss them — but after so many years, I have grown accustomed to it.”

Yang Zhuo smiled slightly. “I happen to have something I need you to help me with. If you see it through, I will assign you some men, give you an official document from the Prince’s residence and a considerable sum of silver, and you can go to Yanzhou and look for your family. Blood is thicker than water — you cannot not look.”

Chen Fengli’s heart clenched. He knew that within that seemingly offhand remark from the heir apparent, something enormous was likely hidden.

“Your Highness, please give your instructions.”

Chen Fengli bowed. “Whatever it may be, if Your Highness entrusts it to me, I will do everything in my power.”

Yang Zhuo smiled slightly. “Nothing very big — in a moment, help me deliver a letter to the Xu family. It must be placed directly in the hands of the Xu family patriarch.”

He lowered his voice. “This letter must remain known only to you. Not another soul in the Prince’s residence is to hear of it — not even my royal father.”

“Understood.”

What could Chen Fengli say to that? He could only agree.

Before long, Yang Zhuo returned to his room, wrote a letter, and handed it to Chen Fengli. Chen Fengli set out immediately from Prince Yu’s residence, and not long after arrived at the Xu family estate.

Because it was the heir apparent of Prince Yu’s household who had sent a man with a letter, with the specific requirement that it be placed personally in the patriarch’s hands, when the news was brought to the old patriarch he did not immediately declare whether he would see the man or not.

Xu Gengmao had held the reins of the Xu family for many years. He had become the decision-maker of this vast clan in his forties, and that had been another four or five decades ago. He had spent half his life as a man who made the choices. Men like him possessed a far loftier perspective than ordinary people, a far deeper reserve, and far more careful deliberation.

“The heir apparent has never had any dealings with our Xu family.”

Xu Gengmao looked at his eldest son, Xu Han — himself now a white-haired old man who had passed his seventieth year, waiting these many decades to inherit his father’s place and still not having managed it. At this point he had likely given up on inheriting it at all — it was more likely that he would go before his father. His only remaining hope was that his own son, Xu Yuanqing, would be the one to receive the patriarch’s authority.

Judging by the old man’s constitution, he could probably manage another decade or two without much difficulty…

“What is your read on this?”

Xu Gengmao asked.

Xu Han replied promptly, “Father — it is likely they want something from our Xu family. The consort died only a few days ago, and now the heir apparent suddenly sends someone. He most likely has no one left to turn to. With the consort gone, whether the Yuwen clan will still support the Prince’s residence has become an open question.”

Xu Gengmao nodded. “You have thought it through carefully, and that is roughly how I read it too. With his mother gone and the Yuwen clan’s support in doubt, the heir apparent is desperate to find someone willing to stand with him.”

He said, “If I received him the first time he sent word, it would suggest the Xu family carries rather little weight. You go and see him — find out what this beleaguered heir apparent actually wants from our Xu family.”

Xu Han said quickly, “It would also be somewhat improper for me to go. Have Yuanqing meet him?”

Xu Gengmao said, “Him? I worry he lacks experience — he’d let the heir apparent’s man draw him out before he knew it. Still too young.”

Xu Han sighed. “Father, Yuanqing is already fifty-three.”

Xu Gengmao paused. “Yuanqing is already in his fifties?”

He shook his head. “Then let Yuanqing go and see… Yuanqing is already in his fifties. How old are you again?”

Xu Han said, “Father, I am seventy-one.”

Xu Gengmao looked at him. “You are only seventy-one? You look more aged than I do.”

Xu Han thought to himself: *Father, would you care to guess why?*

Xu Gengmao mused, “You have too many burdens on your mind — that is why you age faster.”

*You actually guessed correctly,* Xu Han thought.

—

Half an hour later, Xu Yuanqing stood deferentially before Xu Gengmao and bowed. “Grandfather, I have a general sense of the heir apparent’s purpose. He also had a personally written letter delivered.”

Xu Gengmao was a man of great age but with eyes still sharp and ears still keen. He took the letter, read it through, and then laughed.

“A mere brat.”

Xu Yuanqing understood immediately. *A brat not worth conspiring with* — his great-grandfather’s meaning was that this young man could not be trusted with great matters.

He bowed. “Then I will find a pretext to put him off when I reply.”

Xu Gengmao shook his head. “Not so fast. He has no one to turn to, and has had to force himself to come begging to our Xu family — yet he still can’t bring himself to set aside his airs. There is still a hint of condescension in this letter, a hint of speaking down to someone he expects to obey him. To come begging with that attitude — he is simply a man with no depth.”

He looked at Xu Yuanqing and said, “No depth — he wants to exploit our Xu family, and yet he is the one who can be exploited. Right now, every prominent clan in the city will be wondering whether the Yuwen clan will continue to support Prince Yu. They are all holding back and hedging their bets. The ones who had been wagging their tails like dogs rushing to please him — they have all pulled their tails back up now.”

He smiled. “But this is precisely the opportunity. With the Yuwen clan backing Prince Yu, our Xu family could put in tremendous effort and still end up a minor follower. Without the Yuwen clan — the Xu family need only exert a moderate amount of force, and Prince Yu will have no choice but to rely on us.”

He instructed, “Wait until the seven-day funeral is over, then go and meet the heir apparent in person. Though I can more or less guess what he wants — what else could he be after? There is only one thing: having Xiahou Zuo removed. You can probe him for details.”

Xu Yuanqing asked, “And our limit?”

Xu Gengmao said, “Military authority. If the heir apparent can help our Xu family obtain command over one of the Jizhou army units, agree to him.”

Xu Yuanqing said, with some unease, “Prince Yu thinks so highly of Xiahou Zuo — if he were to learn that our Xu family had a hand in this…”

“You are still too young,”

Xu Gengmao smiled. “Prince Yu — reckless and impulsive in battle from his youth, with more courage than strategy. He has tempered himself now, has some depth — but at his core he is still a hothead. Does he think he is the one calling all the shots?”

After this remark he looked at Xu Yuanqing and said, “Turn my words over carefully when you leave. If you can think it through, I will still feel at ease leaving the Xu family in your hands. If you cannot — then I cannot hand this family over to you either.”

These words drained the color from Xu Yuanqing’s face.

His own father had never managed to wait long enough to inherit the patriarch’s authority. If he threw away this chance as well, his own son would probably have no chance either.

In this moment, Xu Yuanqing’s mind turned furiously — and at last, a light broke through.

He asked quickly, “The Military Commissioner?”

“Ha ha ha ha…”

Xu Gengmao laughed. “Not entirely dim after all. Send someone with an invitation — say that my birthday is approaching, but given the state of mourning in the Prince’s residence it would be improper to hold any celebration, so I would like to invite the Military Commissioner to an informal private dinner. If the Commissioner would deign to come — that would carry far more weight than any heir apparent.”

He waved a hand. “Go first and make your preparations for meeting the heir apparent. If the Commissioner does come in a few days, you may sit and attend.”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

This fifty-some-year-old Xu Yuanqing, at being told he was permitted to sit at the table, was as delighted as a child of not-quite-sixty — the kind of delight a young child feels when allowed for the first time to sit up and dine with the grown-up guests.

The realm was in turmoil, and every powerful clan and household with any strength behind them was looking for a share of the spoils. The Xu family, one of the top three clans in Jizhou by influence, naturally meant to secure as large a share as possible.