Chang’an could keep no secrets — there were eyes and ears everywhere. Shen Xiao had barely finished seizing thirty thousand shi of grain in the night before news had spread, by morning, to every great household behind every vermilion gate in the city.
“I heard that Supervising Official Shen took five hundred soldiers and went to seize grain. Princess Pingyang and Prince Consort Cui both failed to stop him, and the Princess even sprained her foot.”
“No, no — the Princess broke her leg outright. She was pushed down a flight of steps by Shen Xiao. The Princess had such a terrible fright.”
“I heard that Supervising Official Shen seized thirty thousand shi of grain.”
“Rubbish — I heard he seized a hundred thousand shi.”
“I heard he emptied the entire Princess’s granary.”
The news passed from person to person, growing more distorted with each telling until it bore little resemblance to reality.
But no matter how the story changed in the telling, the result was always the same: Princess Pingyang had suffered a loss, and Supervising Official Shen had seized the grain.
Whatever the outside world made of all this, the man at the center of the storm — the one who had turned the court upside down — was remarkably calm at this moment.
He stood outside Chengtiangmen, the great gate of the palace complex. The morning sun of the first watch had just risen and was not yet particularly fierce.
Shen Xiao wore a plain gray changpao — neither new nor old, the collar and cuffs worn to a faint, soft white with laundering. He had removed his official’s headdress as well, and at his waist hung neither the fish-charm token nor any of the seven ornaments that customarily hung from an official’s belt. Every last one was absent.
At first glance the whole figure looked impoverished, yet it radiated a kind of stripped-bare, clean austerity — as though he had nothing left to his name and therefore nothing left to fear.
He stood straight and tall outside Chengtiangmen, and the only thing about him that had any connection to the court was the memorial he held in his hands.
Shen Xiao was waiting to be summoned before the Emperor.
Last night he had seized the grain, and by this morning all of Chang’an had erupted. His Majesty would summon him sooner or later. And even if His Majesty wished to quietly let the matter pass, the Crown Prince and Cui Jinzhi would never allow it to rest.
Shen Xiao had only just been standing there a short while when he heard hoofbeats behind him. He turned around, and a Ferghana horse had come to a stop directly at his back. The rider hauled the reins in, then swung himself down.
Second Prince Li Yan — and his expression was anything but pleasant.
When word of Shen Xiao’s grain seizure reached Li Yan, Li Yan had immediately overturned a table and called the Ministry of Revenue Minister in for a thorough dressing-down.
But it turned out the Minister had known nothing at all about the grain seizure — only that Shen Xiao had made a solemn pledge, promised that five hundred soldiers would go and transport thirty thousand shi of grain. No one had known he hadn’t gone to transport it at all, but to seize it.
Li Yan held his riding whip, striding with long steps toward Shen Xiao.
“Shen Xiao, are you out of your mind? What exactly did you do last night? I told you to levy grain — not seize it!”
He was still mindful of being outside Chengtiangmen and did not want to create a scene, so Li Yan clenched his teeth and kept his voice low.
But his face had gone the color of iron, as though he could kill someone.
Shen Xiao was berated up and down by the Second Prince without his expression shifting in the slightest. He said, “Seizing the grain was entirely this official’s own idea. The consequences are this official’s alone to bear, and Your Highness and the Minister of Revenue will not be implicated — not by a fraction.”
Li Yan heard this and nearly burst out laughing in his fury. “How will you bear the consequences? By taking off your official’s cap today and stripping off your eighth-rank robes? I’m telling you — what you seized was not just Pingyang’s grain. The people you offended are not just Pingyang alone. The Crown Prince will use Pingyang’s grievance as a pretext to stir up trouble, and the blame will shift from you directly onto my head!”
“You believe that right now there must be at least several dozen memorials stacked on my father’s desk — every one of them put there by the Eastern Palace, every one of them intended to destroy me! And you dare say you haven’t implicated me?”
“Shen Xiao, I was the one who raised you up into the Ministry of Revenue. I had you in my debt. And this is how you repay me?!”
Li Yan’s temper had always been both rigid and volatile, and by the time he reached the end of it he could restrain himself no longer and let his voice go entirely.
The guards at Chengtiangmen shot a glance over, then immediately averted their eyes and stared straight ahead.
When the gods fight, small creatures would be wise to keep well clear.
Shen Xiao remained perfectly composed throughout. “Your Highness, this official had weighed all the risks you have described — and weighed them clearly — before daring to seize Princess Pingyang’s grain. After all, if the seizure failed, Your Highness would be implicated regardless, and this official was walking on a blade’s edge too, where a single misstep meant losing his life.”
“This official would not gamble with his own life. Please trust this official, Your Highness — the more people there are impeaching you, the safer Your Highness will be.”
He looked at Li Yan with grave seriousness, and in his eyes there was something that could only be called authority. “This official said he will not implicate Your Highness — and he means it.”
But Li Yan released Shen Xiao’s collar and sent him stumbling back a step. He didn’t believe a word of it.
The more people impeaching him, the safer he’d be?
Nonsense.
Shen Xiao had lost his mind.
To think that when he had first spotted Shen Xiao, he had thought him a promising find — and brought him under his wing. Now look at the man: a death-seeker who had ended up in his own camp. He must have been blind.
Li Yan was about to berate him further when he saw a number of high officials in purple and scarlet robes arriving in groups of two and three — men from the Five Directorates, the Six Ministries, and the Three Departments, every notable name in the bureaucracy seemingly present. All of them were filing in this direction.
As they walked, their gazes swept over Li Yan, and they gave a brief salute. “Greetings, Second Prince Your Highness.”
Then they glanced at Shen Xiao in his plain changpao, and their expressions showed a flicker of surprise, followed by quiet contempt — he had seized grain the night before and now came in plain clothes to resign and offer his apologies.
Every one of these men was part of the Crown Prince’s faction. Li Yan knew without thinking that they had each contributed their share — impeaching Shen Xiao and simultaneously splashing a bucket of filth over himself.
Li Yan, like the rest of them, had been summoned by Emperor Zhengyuan.
Li Yan had no wish to enter with the likes of them. He waited until they had all gone in first, then smoothed his robe, gave a cold snort in Shen Xiao’s direction, and went through the palace gate.
Shen Xiao waited outside a little longer. Before long, a young eunuch emerged from within Chengtiangmen and made his way directly toward him.
Palace eunuchs were usually proud and reserved, with something cold and oblique in the set of their brow and the corner of their eye. He threw a sidelong look at Shen Xiao. “His Majesty’s oral decree: Supervising Official of the Ministry of Revenue Shen Xiao is summoned to court for an audience.”
Shen Xiao clasped his hands. “Please lead the way, Eunuch.”
The eunuch threw him another sidelong glance. He had been about to remind him to go and change back into proper official robes before the imperial audience. But he thought again and reconsidered — Lord Shen had committed such a grave offence, and the Emperor’s desk was swamped with impeachment memorials. Could that eighth-rank official’s robe even survive this?
Never mind, plain clothes it was. Better than having to take off his official’s cap later anyway.
They passed through Chengtiangmen and proceeded straight ahead along the Dragon Tail Road, up the white marble steps — and there was the Hall of Containing Origins. This was where the Emperor conducted his daily governance.
The eunuchs waiting outside the hall saw Shen Xiao arrive and hurried inside to announce him to the Emperor. Shen Xiao waited outside the hall first.
He had barely been there a moment when he saw a group of eunuchs approaching, carrying a palanquin.
To ride in a palanquin inside the palace — what an extravagant display.
Inside the palace, one was required to dismount from horses and step down from carriages — this was an iron rule without exception, unless the Emperor had specifically bestowed the honor of a palanquin. The only person in the current court with such an honor was Zheng Pushe, and that was only because Zheng Pushe was over seventy, frail and elderly and unable to walk properly — which was why he had been granted this privilege.
And yet the person inside this palanquin was clearly a lady.
Shen Xiao watched for a moment, and once the eunuchs had set the palanquin down at the foot of the steps, he could see clearly — the person inside was Princess Pingyang.
Her foot was wrapped in layer after layer of bandaging, and evidently because she could not walk properly, she had been granted the special dispensation to be carried in.
Shen Xiao’s brow furrowed slightly. He vaguely recalled now that last night, when she had leaped from the carriage in her frantic haste, she had not caught her footing and had indeed twisted her ankle.
But it was only a twisted ankle — did it really warrant this level of drama? Those bandages were wrapped as though every bone in her leg had been shattered.
Well — it wouldn’t do to look insufficiently pitiful when you were going to the Emperor to file your complaint, would it.
The young eunuch who had gone in to announce him had just emerged from the hall when he saw Princess Pingyang approaching. He forgot all about Shen Xiao and hurried down the steps, quick and eager as a puppy.
“This servant pays respects to Princess Pingyang. Your Highness, your foot… what happened?”
Li Shu was supported by a eunuch as she made her way up the steps, one step at a time, with an evident limp. As she drew closer, Shen Xiao could see that her face was pale.
Only her eyes were as cool and clear as ever. She cast a sidelong glance at Shen Xiao. “My foot? I have Lord Shen to thank for this. Last night Lord Shen’s grain seizure gave This Princess quite the extraordinary surprise…”
Shen Xiao looked back at her, said nothing, and simply smiled faintly.
As Li Shu had expected, Emperor Zhengyuan had a desktop full of memorials waiting for him that morning. Without taking a precise count, he could estimate roughly a hundred or more, all saying much the same thing.
“Supervising Official of the Ministry of Revenue Shen Xiao unleashed soldiers to pillage Princess Pingyang’s estate — his intentions are monstrous and his crimes demand the severest punishment!”
A glance at the signatures told him they were all from the Crown Prince’s faction.
The sheer number of memorialists was too great for Emperor Zhengyuan to call them all in — he had selected only those of fifth rank and above, and even so, over twenty men stood in the Hall of Containing Origins, every one of them a formidable figure who commanded his own sphere of influence.
The Eastern Palace certainly had its power — a single overnight incident had rallied so many officials to morning audience. Give them a few more days and would the memorials from every minister and official in court drown the Hall of Containing Origins entirely?
Emperor Zhengyuan sat behind his desk, his expression grave and unreadable. He watched as the two principals in the grain seizure affair also entered the hall at last.
The assembled officials turned to look as well. They saw Princess Pingyang making her way forward with a pronounced limp, her face drained of color — and she looked thoroughly, unmistakably pitiful.
Princess Pingyang had always been known for her quick intelligence and keen mind. She had never relied on a soft and fragile manner or a beautiful face to win favor from anyone. Words like weak and pitiable had never been associated with her.
Seeing her like this now, one realized for the first time how thin she actually was — and with this sudden display of fragility, she seemed all the more worthy of pity.
By comparison, the Shen Xiao standing beside her looked all the more monstrous.
To unleash soldiers and seize grain, to humiliate a princess — how utterly unconscionable!
Emperor Zhengyuan sat behind the desk in the hall, revealing nothing of what lay within. Yet when he saw Li Shu limping and lurching with such difficulty, a father’s tenderness did surface — and he specifically granted her a stool to sit on.
Li Shu curtseyed and then said nothing. She sat on the round stool, her leg swathed in layer upon layer of bandaging. Eyes cast down, she looked ever more the picture of pathos.
Shen Xiao knelt and performed the full formal bow, then presented his memorial with both hands. Liu Cou hurried to receive it and placed it on the desk.
Emperor Zhengyuan’s eyes swept over it, then settled on Shen Xiao. He did not bid him rise, but said, “Shen Xiao, do you know why We have summoned you today?”
Shen Xiao knelt bolt upright. Even in his gray changpao, something unyielding and haughty seemed to radiate through it. “This official knows. It is because last night this official levied thirty thousand shi of grain from Princess Pingyang.”
The words had barely fallen when Cui Jinzhi let out a cold, scornful laugh. “Levied? Lord Shen has quite the way with words. You outright pillaged it.”