At this moment Gan Daode was in high spirits — why would he care how the envoy who had delivered the decree carried himself? His subordinates may have chafed, but he could endure it.

Even now, having seized the better part of Qingzhou, the common people still called him a great bandit and whispered behind his back. But now, with the enfeoffment of His Majesty, the Emperor of Dachu, he would like to see who would dare call him a great bandit from this day forward.

This was precisely the mentality of many rebel commanders at the time — dreaming on one hand of overthrowing Dachu and making themselves Emperor, and on the other, desperately yearning to receive the same official recognition from the Dachu Emperor as everyone else.

The complexity of the human heart could not be more plainly seen.

The transmitting envoy did not enter the hall but waited in the courtyard. Before long, Gan Daode had bathed and changed and came out at a trot, visibly impatient to get on with it.

The imperial envoy, for his part, still looked cold and stiff — because he had not wished to come. Yet as a subject of the Emperor, he had had no choice.

The Emperor had given him this errand. However much he loathed rebel commanders like Gan Daode, he still had to come. It was not merely that the Emperor’s decree could not be defied — it was that he still considered himself a loyal subject of Dachu.

So when he saw Gan Daode’s behavior, his contempt only deepened.

He would read the decree, perform his duties, do what had to be done — and then he wanted to return to Daxing City immediately. He had, vaguely, begun to suspect that his assignment on this mission might not have been made out of any kindness from the Emperor — but he refused to dwell on the thought.

“His Majesty’s decree.”

The imperial envoy unrolled the imperial edict and read it aloud in a carrying voice.

The gist of it was this: His Majesty, the Emperor, acknowledged Gan Daode’s loyalty to Dachu and expressed gratitude for the efforts Gan Daode had made in maintaining order in Qingzhou. In recognition of his service, His Majesty conferred upon Gan Daode the title of King of Qingzhou — equal in rank to a Prince of First Rank — along with the position of Military Governor of Qingzhou. All civil administration and military affairs in Qingzhou were to be under Gan Daode’s authority.

By the time this passage was reached, Gan Daode had already prostrated himself to give thanks.

The imperial envoy glanced at him, then glanced back at the edict. There was nothing further written — yet he added a line of his own.

“Additionally, there is a personal oral message from His Majesty.”

The imperial envoy rolled up the edict and presented it to Gan Daode with both hands, then said, “His Majesty says: the Black Warrior Tribes have invaded our borders. Prince Ning Li Chi is holding the northern frontier with his life. The King of Qingzhou ought to lead his forces to reinforce him, to jointly protect the Dachu realm.”

At these words, not only Gan Daode was taken aback — even the escorts who had accompanied the envoy were stunned.

They all knew full well that His Majesty had issued no such oral message. This statement had clearly been added by the imperial envoy himself.

This was a grave transgression. If the Emperor were to learn of it upon his return, the imperial envoy’s career would be finished — and he might well lose his head.

Yet he appeared entirely unconcerned.

As long as he still wore this official’s robes, he wanted to conduct himself as a loyal minister. If he were to take them off himself, he would betray the title of loyal minister — and betray the benefactor who had once staked his reputation to see him into government service.

So what he hoped for, in truth, was that His Majesty would strip the robes from him. This wretched, thankless post was not worth holding.

To travel ten thousand li to confer a royal title upon a great bandit — if the Emperor felt no shame in such an act, he, as a court official, felt shame enough for both of them.

“This…”

Gan Daode paused to consider, then immediately smiled and said, “Please tell His Majesty upon your return, this subject Gan Daode has already led his army to the northern frontier. Under this subject’s courageous command, the Black Warrior Tribes were driven back. The northern frontier is secure — Dachu is secure.”

The imperial envoy visibly startled. “The Black Warrior Tribes have retreated?”

Gan Daode replied, “Indeed they have. Under my personal command in mortal combat, the Black Warrior Tribes were defeated and suffered incalculable casualties. I alone slew over a hundred of the enemy, and my valiant warriors slew a hundred thousand. Prince Ning Li Chi coordinated a counterattack with my forces, and together we drove the entire Black Warrior army back within their own borders.”

His entourage hastily chimed in: “Yes, yes — His Highness speaks the truth. We truly have just returned from Jizhou. The great army arrived back in Wulai City not long ago.”

The imperial envoy’s expression shifted noticeably. He glanced back at his attendants, then came to a decision.

“Ah… In that case, the King of Qingzhou’s achievement is a merit without equal in the realm. Given such joyous tidings, there is no need for me to hurry back. I ought to hear the King of Qingzhou’s full account of how this victory was achieved, so that I may relay the details thoroughly to His Majesty upon my return.”

Gan Daode thought to himself: *Won’t it simply be whatever I say it was?*

He quickly said, “I’ll have quarters prepared for the Imperial Envoy at once — we’ll have a welcoming banquet for you shortly.”

He turned and gave the order: “Bring the gifts.”

It was customary for a subject who received a decree of favor to offer a small token of goodwill to the one who had delivered it, a shared gesture of celebration.

Gan Daode had already prepared a chest of gold — a full thousand taels — and his men promptly brought it forward and opened it before the imperial envoy.

The envoy looked at it. First came a flash of distaste — then the thought: *if I don’t take it, someone else will.* All this gold, taken back for his men, would at least mean they were looked after in the days ahead.

He suddenly realized that in the past he would never have accepted such a gift — yet now he found he didn’t mind. He wondered when exactly that had changed.

A rare, faint smile crossed his face. “Then, many thanks to the King of Qingzhou.”

He gave his attendants a meaningful look, and they immediately understood, stepping forward to carry the chest away.

“Please.”

Gan Daode gestured an invitation, and the imperial envoy followed him toward the inner courtyard.

At this moment, Gan Daode was radiant with satisfaction, in the fullness of his ambitions.

With enfeoffment from His Majesty, the Emperor of Dachu, Qingzhou was now rightfully and legitimately his. Anyone within Qingzhou who refused to submit could be crushed in the Emperor’s name — suppressing them would be acting on imperial mandate.

Within Qingzhou, whatever he chose to do, he need never again worry about the question of legitimacy.

—

The guest quarters.

The imperial envoy sat down at last and, unable to help himself, let out a long breath.

One of his attendants could not resist asking, “My lord — didn’t we agree on the road that once the decree was read, we would leave immediately? That we would rather stay anywhere else than in the home of this bandit chieftain?”

The imperial envoy said, “Something doesn’t add up. I want to look into it.”

Another attendant chuckled, “My lord, wherever you go, it seems you can never quite break the habit of wanting to investigate things.”

At that, the imperial envoy couldn’t help but smile. He looked at his attendants and said, “We all noticed that Gan Daode was talking complete nonsense. But within that nonsense, there is something worth hearing.”

The first attendant who had spoken grinned. “Does my lord mean we should listen carefully to the nonsense?”

The imperial envoy said, “You go and listen. Listen carefully.”

A second attendant said, “My lord means — listening to nonsense is your job. How could my lord stoop to listening to nonsense? My lord would only smell it.”

The imperial envoy aimed a kick at that attendant’s backside. The man’s speed in making his escape was comparable to Yu Jiuling’s.

These five — within Dachu’s capital and its court, they had always been considered oddities, outliers among outliers.

It was precisely this that had earned them the present assignment to Qingzhou — and the intentions behind sending them on this errand were anything but benign.

Not merely unkind — one might even say malicious.

It was because they were unlike normal court officials that they were marginalized at every turn. And while being marginalized alone was tolerable — it wouldn’t cost them their lives — the real danger was that some had begun to question their loyalty.

Because not long ago, something significant had happened in the capital that had caused the Emperor to cough up blood, and several major figures at court had been lost in succession. All signs pointed to the likelihood that the one who had run amok in the capital was none other than Li Chi, the great rebel chieftain of Jizhou.

And so — these outliers had come under the current Emperor’s suspicion of collusion with Li Chi. Somehow, everything fell neatly into place.

The current Emperor was no fool — he was sharper than the vast majority of people. He simply faced too many constraints that left him without options.

—

Dachu’s capital, Daxing City. The Shiyuan Palace, the Eastern Study.

Emperor Yang Jing sat at the window, staring into the middle distance. He had been spending more and more time like this lately, and he knew it was not a good sign.

He wanted to be busy. Only when busy could he avoid so much time for worry. But contrary to his wishes, Dachu no longer had enough affairs to keep him occupied.

He was the Emperor. He ought to have had ten thousand matters weighing upon him, with the fate of the entire Dachu realm held within his chest.

Yet the court’s edicts no longer reached beyond the walls of Daxing City — because there was no one to heed them beyond those walls. In the beginning it had been the great regional governors, tentatively refusing to respond to court summons and imperial orders. Then, as time went on, there was no longer any need for even that level of restraint — even the most minor of local officials no longer regarded court edicts with any respect.

Aside from the officials within the court itself, no one from the provinces was submitting memorials to the capital any longer.

What could an Emperor with nothing to do actually do?

Train a new army?

Because he could not pay wages, the Emperor managed to recruit wave after wave of men through the temptation of title honors — but without salaries, people still had to eat. Now, he could barely scrape together even three daily meals for the new troops, let alone dream of recruiting enough men willing to lay down their lives for the Dachu Emperor.

The head eunuch, Zhen Xiaodao, watched His Majesty’s demeanor with a growing ache in his chest. There was nothing he could do to help. He was only a eunuch — he had only just turned twenty, counting from the new year.

“Is there anything…” the Emperor said at last, surfacing from his long silence. “Is there anything interesting to speak of? Give me something to listen to. I never had time for it before — now… I can listen anytime you like.”

Hearing this, Zhen Xiaodao felt no sense of being favored. Only a deep and mournful sorrow — the sorrow of the loneliness and helplessness he sensed within the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, recently a few stray cats wandered into Lady Ting’s courtyard. Her Ladyship is kind-hearted and has taken them all in. Quite amusing to watch. Would Your Majesty like to go see for yourself?”

The Emperor considered. Given how idle and discontented he was feeling, he somehow found himself with little interest in seeing his consorts.

He thought about why that might be, and concluded it was because the women of the inner palace were no different from the ministers at court these days.

The court ministers, with nothing to do, had resorted to attacking and denouncing one another — that alone gave them any sense of purpose, leaving them to squabble endlessly in the Emperor’s presence.

The women of the inner palace were no different — at a time like this, all they could think of was how to compete for his favor.

“Never mind.”

Then the Emperor remembered something, and said almost reflexively, “Go and fetch the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, Gui Yuanshu. I have several matters I need him to attend to.”

Zhen Xiaodao froze. For a moment he did not know what to say.

The Emperor looked at him. “Why aren’t you going?”

Zhen Xiaodao said, carefully, “Your Majesty — the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review has already departed for Qingzhou. Counting the days, he should have arrived in Wulai City by now.”

The Emperor’s expression shifted. He remembered then — he had personally ordered Gui Yuanshu sent to Qingzhou to his death.

The Emperor knew Gui Yuanshu harbored no divided loyalties. He knew Gui Yuanshu was one of the few genuinely loyal and capable ministers left in the court.

And yet he had ordered his removal — only because he had discovered that Gui Yuanshu had been in rather close contact with Li Chi during a certain period.

“I forgot.”

The Emperor let out a long, slow breath.

He looked at Zhen Xiaodao. “Let us go.”

Zhen Xiaodao hastily asked, “Where does Your Majesty wish to go?”

The Emperor rose. “You said Lady Ting’s strays were amusing — I find I want to see for myself after all.”

Zhen Xiaodao hurried to lead the way, speaking as they walked. “Goodness knows which household those cats once belonged to. Abandoned and unwanted — yet now, in Lady Ting’s care, it seems they are better off than before.”

The Emperor’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt. He murmured to himself, as though thinking aloud: “What I discard and no longer want… someone else will want? And will live even better than before?”

Zhen Xiaodao was startled. He had not anticipated the Emperor drawing such a connection.

“Send someone to Qingzhou at once. Request that the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review return to the capital with all speed. I have an important matter to entrust to him — I intend to appoint him Chancellor of Dachu.”

Once the Emperor had given the order, he exhaled once more.

Because something had suddenly become clear to him: the corrupt and the vile — those he had long tolerated. Yet those who had always been faithful, merely because of some small imperfection — those he could no longer abide.

In this world, there must be far too many people like him. And far too many people like Gui Yuanshu.

—