The hardest part was this: knowing that his eldest son had committed a grave error, and knowing too that he had been manipulated and used — wanting to shield and protect him, and yet needing to give the assembled officials an account.

Especially when those who had been placed in danger included Pei Shaohuai and Yan Chengzhao.

From the Emperor’s words, Pei Shaohuai pieced together a general understanding of what had transpired —

During his time in Fujian, he had suspected that behind the three great clans lay a hidden, ancient lineage secretly stirring turbulence on the seas. Yan Chengzhao had recorded this suspicion in a confidential report and transmitted it back to the capital.

Eunuch Xiao was aware that the Crown Prince’s faction had long been secretly siphoning off vast quantities of silver through the Maritime Trade Office at Quanzhou Port, with that gleaming silver flowing into the Eastern Palace to fund the running of its affairs and to maintain the “loyalty” of those beneath him. For the Eastern Palace to find ways to extract money from elsewhere was nothing commendable, but neither was it anything new.

After learning from the confidential report that Pei Shaohuai and his companion were investigating the mastermind behind the three great clans, Eunuch Xiao, fearing the inquiry might reach the Crown Prince, disclosed the contents of the report to the Crown Prince.

And that was how the information had been leaked.

What a pity that what Pei Shaohuai had actually been investigating was not the Eastern Palace — yet the Eastern Palace had taken itself to be the “mastermind.” The Crown Prince’s faction had believed they were the ones controlling affairs in Fujian.

“This matter is also my fault,” the Emperor said with regret. “I had long known that Eunuch Xiao was privately passing information to Zheng’er, sharing certain thoughts of mine with him — and I had always permitted it.” The Crown Prince often found himself unable to divine the Emperor’s intentions; out of partiality, Eunuch Xiao would quietly offer guidance, easing the strained relationship between father and son. The Emperor had accepted this kindness, and so had turned a blind eye, even on occasion deliberately conveying messages to the Crown Prince through Eunuch Xiao.

If the Emperor had allowed Eunuch Xiao to show partiality toward the Crown Prince, was it not in part because the Emperor himself showed partiality toward the Crown Prince?

The Emperor leaned back in his chair, gazing upward at the roof beams with an expression of utter exhaustion. He murmured, “When I was still Crown Prince, Empress Xiaozhen endured many a cold look and much hardship alongside me, yet she never lived to enjoy a single day of honored splendor. In the end, she simply had too little fortune…”

Pei Shaohuai listened in silence from below.

To say nothing of the Emperor — even an ordinary elder would not easily bare his innermost heart to a junior. Only with trust, only when one regarded another as a true confidant, would one speak so openly.

“I did not expect that those closest to me would be so blind to what mattered — or that my own son would be so unable to distinguish good from ill.” The Emperor heaved a long sigh, as though questioning whether he ought not to have shown such partiality — after all, the Prince of Huai was his son too.

The Emperor sat up straight, smiled bitterly, and said, “And yet only you, Boyuan, will still sit down and play a few rounds of chess with me.”

A lament that he stood alone, without true company.

“Boyuan,” the Emperor suddenly asked, “why have you never let me win at chess?”

“Because Your subject’s chess skills are truly too poor.”

The Emperor shook his head and, looking at Pei Shaohuai with sincere eyes, said, “It is because you want nothing from me, and do not covet my favor or my rewards.”

Rewards were right there within easy reach, yet Pei Shaohuai had never spared them a second glance — even his official post had been selected for him by the Emperor himself.

“Your subject merely fulfills his duties and attends to his responsibilities.”

The Emperor shook the dust from his sleeves, sat up straight, cast aside his weary air, and recovered his customary composure. He asked, “The prisoner escorted to the capital from Raozhou Prefecture — what is your assessment, Boyuan?”

The Emperor had made his choice, and Pei Shaohuai had made his — if he truly had to choose between the Crown Prince and the Prince of Huai, he would sooner choose the Crown Prince.

The prisoner’s testimony had convinced the Ministry of Justice, the Imperial Clan Court, and the Emperor himself — indicating that “such things had indeed occurred.” The prisoner had confessed to what he knew, but not the whole of it — he was a perfectly sculpted witness.

Upon reflection, was the Prince of Huai himself not also a perfectly sculpted chess piece?

When Pei Shaohuai and Yan Chengzhao had been in Fujian, they had exhausted themselves trying to investigate, only to be deceived by the opposing faction’s interconnected traps, their trail of clues severed. Yet the Prince of Huai, stationed far away in Raozhou Prefecture, had managed to “apprehend” this witness at just the right moment — one could not help but suspect the nature of his relationship with the opposing faction.

The Prince of Huai was gambling with the lives of the common people.

Whether for the sake of the people of the realm, or for the safety of his family and those dear to him, Pei Shaohuai could not possibly stand on the side of the Prince of Huai.

Pei Shaohuai replied, “Your subject believes that rather than dealing with the Crown Prince at present, the more pressing matter is to root out the mastermind behind all this, and eliminate the source of future trouble.” That hand had already reached into the imperial palace itself.

Out of consideration for the Emperor, he refrained from pointing the finger at the Prince of Huai.

Drawing upon the words of Elder Nan Ju, Pei Shaohuai continued, “When Your subject passed through Jinling, Elder Zou once said: ‘In the lush green fields, the tares and weeds sprout first.’ If one wishes the tares to show themselves, one must first let an autumn wind sweep through.”

He was counseling the Emperor to make a show of action.

The Emperor tapped the writing desk with rhythmic fingers and deliberated for a long while, then produced a golden token. A golden qilin coiled around the characters “Southern Embroidered Uniform Guard.” He said, “We grant you command authority over the Southern Embroidered Uniform Guard; you shall lead men to stand guard over the Eastern Palace and are authorized to search its entirety. Effective immediately, the Crown Prince is confined to the Eastern Palace under house arrest — without Our imperial decree, he may not step beyond its gates by even half a step.”

Between ruler and minister, consensus was reached with but a few words.

To place the Crown Prince under house arrest was a powerful signal; the court would be consumed in endless dispute.

“Your subject receives the imperial decree.”

In the end, Pei Shaohuai had still entangled himself in the Emperor’s family affairs. When family affairs were unsettled, state affairs would follow — it was an unavoidable step.

……

News of the Crown Prince’s confinement spread swiftly throughout the ranks of officials. The Crown Prince’s faction, led by Wang Gaoxiang, fell into anxious dread.

Those officials whose involvement was not too deep immediately feigned illness, played dead, and drew clear lines of separation — seeking to protect themselves. Those entangled too deeply to extract themselves could only fight with everything they had, burning their bridges and making a last stand, canvassing and lobbying on all sides in an effort to rally other officials to speak on the Crown Prince’s behalf.

The only card they had left — to hold fast to “ancestral institution,” “designating the legitimate eldest as heir,” and “respect for the order of seniority,” and refuse to let go.

Yet with the situation still unclear, and with the assembled officials not even knowing why the Crown Prince had been confined, who would dare recklessly take a side and speak up for him?

……

That same evening, the Emperor went to the Kunning Palace for his meal.

Knowing the Emperor had little appetite, the Empress had the Imperial Kitchen prepare an entire table of dishes, so that the Emperor might pick and choose to his liking.

After the meal, the Empress poured the Emperor a cup of tea and, with a gentle smile, ventured, “Your consort has heard that the Office of Imperial Banquets has already begun preparations for this year’s Birthday Celebration.”

The Emperor gave a nod.

May the Emperor live ten thousand years — the Birthday Celebration was the Emperor’s own birthday.

Out of compassion for the hardships borne by the common people, the Emperor advocated frugality. Aside from the grand celebration held in his thirtieth year, through all the years since, the observance had been a symbolic banquet only, never made into a grand affair.

“It has been some years since Dao’er was sent to his feudal domain…” the Empress’s voice trailed off, tinged with a trace of longing.

She wished to use the occasion of the Birthday Celebration to petition the Emperor to allow the Prince of Huai, Yan Youdao, to return to the capital for a visit. Without an imperial decree, a prince was not permitted to leave his feudal domain.

The Emperor understood the Empress’s intent — otherwise he would not have come specifically for this meal.

“The imperial treasury is full; this year we ought to hold a proper celebration.” The Emperor said, “As for the Prince of Huai coming to the capital to offer birthday congratulations — the journey is long, and it is no easy matter for Youdao to travel all that way and back. Let me think on it a while longer.”

He had not flatly refused the Empress’s request.

Now that the Emperor wished to hold a grand Birthday Celebration, the Empress would naturally be indispensable in overseeing its preparations.

……

On the other side of the palace, the Eastern Palace’s guards had been replaced by officers of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and the Crown Prince was under house arrest within the Eastern Palace.

Pei Shaohuai did not immediately begin ransacking and searching the place. Having chosen to stand by the Crown Prince, he did not wish to put their relationship on bad terms.

The Crown Prince’s spirits were very low. Day after day he dressed in simple, undyed garments, shutting himself away in a side courtyard.

On the day of Pei Shaohuai’s visit, the Crown Prince was seated on a long bench, planing a wooden board. In the warmth of spring he had worked up a full sweat; wood shavings flew up and settled all over his robe. He seemed to be using the repetitive, back-and-forth motion of the work to dispel the gloom within his heart.

The Crown Prince said nothing, and so Pei Shaohuai stood in silence.

At last the plane slipped sideways, and a deep, jagged groove was gouged across the wooden board that had taken such effort to smooth — the board was ruined. The Crown Prince stopped. After a long silence, with his head bowed low, he said, “I have let Father Emperor down — let down all of his deep care and painstaking efforts… I am only fit for these kinds of tasks that come to nothing.”

“Your Highness knows that you have erred, but do you know where the error lies?” Pei Shaohuai asked. “Does Your Highness not intend to offer His Majesty some explanation?”

The Crown Prince shook his head and replied, “The Maritime Trade Office at Quanzhou concealed the true volume of maritime trade and engaged in private profiteering — I was always aware of that. The three great clans attempted to sever their own tail to survive and obstruct Grand Minister Pei’s investigation — that too was done because of information I disclosed.”

Pei Shaohuai’s suspicion had been correct. The opposing faction had not merely worn the Crown Prince’s mask — they had actually led the Crown Prince to believe that the Maritime Trade Office was accumulating funds for the Eastern Palace, making him think of himself as the principal “mastermind.”

“Does Your Highness know that the testimony names you for treason — for colluding with enemies and scheming to seize power?”

The wooden plane clattered to the ground. The Crown Prince shot to his feet, not even pausing to brush the wood shavings from his body. He stood before Pei Shaohuai, face drained of all color, his voice trembling: “I… I would never stoop to such a thing, nor would I ever dare.”

He would never sell out the nation — nor would he dare.

He had believed his subordinates were merely extracting silver from Fujian.

Pei Shaohuai showed no mercy and pressed on: “His Majesty has been worn to exhaustion these past days — not because Your Highness committed an error, but because Your Highness committed an error without knowing that you had.”

He glanced at the carpentry tools on the ground, then continued, “His Majesty confined Your Highness to the palace not to have you sit here in peace doing woodwork, but to have you reflect carefully on how much harm your subordinates and officials have done in your name. If Your Highness cannot even manage that much, then what right have you to speak of having ‘let Father Emperor’s painstaking efforts go to waste?'”

The Crown Prince turned his back, facing away from Pei Shaohuai, and away from the light streaming in through the window, and said, “I need some time.”

Pei Shaohuai cupped his hands in salute. “Your subject awaits Your Highness’s summons.”

With the Crown Prince’s cooperation, and with the ledger in hand, it would at least be possible to conduct a thorough investigation of the Eastern Palace and root out the treacherous elements concealed within the Crown Prince’s circle.

……

While the Eastern Palace was still engaged in reflection, the Prince of Huai continued to press his offensive.

The following day, at the county yamen of Daxing, a woman threw herself headfirst against the drum of grievances, using her own life to make her testimony, submitting a blood-written accusation against the Hou brothers for forcibly abducting young women and taking them as concubines by force.

The Hou brothers were the pair of sons belonging to Lady Ke, the Crown Prince’s wet nurse — men who roamed about causing all manner of trouble, trading on the words “our mother is the Crown Prince’s wet nurse.”

Because the matter touched upon the Eastern Palace, the case was transferred to the Shuntian Prefectural Yamen for trial.

When the Shuntian Prefecture Chief and his men searched the Hou family residence, they discovered more than ten chests of wooden components that had not yet been delivered to the Eastern Palace, each piece exquisitely and intricately carved.

Among them was a miniature lacquered golden throne with carved dragons — fashioned from golden phoebe nanmu, with nine dragons coiling across a sumeru-style base, the entire piece lacquered over with gold.

If one were merely building an ordinary imitation palace of wood, what need would there be for such a Dragon Throne? The Shuntian Prefecture Chief swiftly reported the matter to the court.

Whether or not it was the Crown Prince who had ordered the carving of the Dragon Throne was unknown.

The prisoner’s testimony was something the Emperor could suppress on the Crown Prince’s behalf — but this had all unfolded beyond the palace walls, and by the time the news reached the Imperial Study, it had long since spread through the world outside. How could it possibly be suppressed?

Officials buzzed with discussion — to have condoned wicked servants who abused his name and bullied others was a failure of virtue. To have privately commissioned a Dragon Throne was an act of filial impiety and insubordination, a violation of the proper order between father and son, ruler and minister.

At this point, no one had yet submitted a memorial calling for the deposition of the Crown Prince — but the current of opinion at court had already begun to shift. Added to this the momentum built by the Prince of Huai’s supporters, and the calls for a change of heir grew gradually louder.

If the assembled officials were to learn of the testimony as well, it was feared that Yan Youzheng’s position as Crown Prince would not hold.

In the Records Office of the Ministry of Personnel, Pei Shaohuai was pacing back and forth, turning over possible countermeasures in his mind.

Lady Ke and her two sons would have to be thoroughly investigated — their full range of misdeeds laid bare and justice rendered according to the law. Without that, there was no appeasing the public outcry. And if the Crown Prince still harbored any “capacity for benevolence,” Pei Shaohuai would have no choice but to find another way forward.

As for the “Dragon Throne” — Pei Shaohuai was of the view that this was most likely a frame-up. The Crown Prince had scarcely any enthusiasm for the imperial throne at all; why would he be in any hurry to have a Dragon Throne carved?

At just that moment, a colleague burst through the door, lifting his robes as he ran, his expression urgent with worry, and called out, “Grand Minister Pei, you should hurry over to the Office of the Six Bureaus immediately.”

Pei Shaohuai was bewildered. “What’s happened?”

“Your second younger brother has gotten into a fight with someone.”