Snow was falling ever more heavily, and before long the ground within the market district had turned to mud.

Emperor Wu, Yang Zao, walked ahead with his hands clasped behind his back, his sons following behind him. As for Hu Yougui, he too was unusually well-behaved, pulling his younger brother along with a beaming smile as they followed.

Since an emperor had come out in person, his thinking naturally differed from that of ordinary people. He had a mind to be a wise ruler, so he went from stall to stall asking prices.

He was earnestly observing the conditions of the common people, but unexpectedly, once the snow picked up, two men came running from behind the street, as if fleeing the snow, but as they fled, they pretended to slip, one falling and one supporting him, aiming straight for the pouch at Emperor Wu’s waist.

Just as the hand reached out, not yet touching the pouch on Yang Zao’s body, a powerful hand seized the man’s wrist, pulled him down into a crouch with the motion, and pressed his hand onto the scalding griddle pan by the street.

Chen Dasheng crouched there, baring his teeth in a grin at the unlucky man.

Under the searing pain, the drifter wanted to scream, but found his mouth covered by someone’s hand, and then he felt himself being lifted into the air?

In an instant he was burned, cried out, and flew off… The quick-handed old woman selling griddle cakes only felt startled — in the blink of an eye, the person before her had vanished?

Cui Erdian stepped forward to block her view, opening his palm to reveal a few copper coins with a smile: “Old auntie, please make me a few hot ones, and go heavy on the oil.”

The old woman blinked in confusion, glancing again at the sizzling, bulging surface of the pan, looking left and right at the still-ordinary street, then rubbed her eyes and sighed: “Wait a moment, dear customer. Oh dear, I’m getting old, my head gets muddled so easily, ah, and my eyesight isn’t good either.”

After saying this, she lifted the dough and spread it on the pan, glancing left and right again… but in the end couldn’t bring herself to add more oil.

On the rooftops of the street, the two petty thieves were tossed up one after another like a relay, then swiftly carried to a flat rooftop.

Yu Qingguan held a notebook, made a mark, and laughed: “The sixth one! Heh! Fat sheep indeed! This place really is chaotic — our lord lights the golden lamp up front, and it lures moths from every direction.”

His subordinate laughed too, opened a sack, bundled the trembling drifter — his face twisted in fear — into a ball and stuffed him inside, then tied the sack shut with a laugh: “Blame this weather. If we don’t make a solid haul while the heavy snow’s falling, once it seals the roads tomorrow morning these scoundrels won’t be able to get out either — they’ll have a hard time of it too. They’re all cheats and swindlers who never keep money on hand. It’s rare enough to run into someone like our lord — if we don’t strike now…” He clicked his tongue twice, kicked the sack a few times, then, done kicking, asked curiously, “Chief, where are these going? You said to send them somewhere — which yamen gate?”

Several scouts leapt onto the rooftop, hauling the sacks and tossing them into a hay cart that had just arrived by the street.

Yu Qingguan looked at the sacks indifferently: “Send them to which yamen? Is a bunch of human trash worth the trouble of a court session? Not worth us men freezing our hands off on a cold day for. They’re all dogs who prey on women, children, and the elderly! Even our own high officials, if they raise their voices too loud and offend the Emperor, get reported by the censors and docked their salary.

These unlucky wretches actually dared to steal from our lord — heh! Only through three lifetimes of bad karma could such disaster be earned… Old rule: brand their faces with the scouts’ yamen mark, sentence them to lifelong hard labor, send them all to dig canals. Whenever our Great Liang stops repairing waterways, that’s when they’ll be freed.”

We’re officials of the fifth rank too, after all — sentencing a few petty thieves is no trouble at all.

Having said this, he leapt along the rooftops a few more times, watching the procession below, and said to his subordinate: “Once our golden-lamp old immortal walks a few more streets, the young and old of Yandu’s market district will have a good year.”

The scouts had their own methods when deployed — entirely different from the Ministry of War or Jiu Si Tang. They moved like rats and foxes, appearing and vanishing like dragons showing neither head nor tail.

If they didn’t want to be seen, you wouldn’t see them even in the middle of a bustling market.

Of course, there were capable people at the Emperor’s side too. A gaunt middle-aged man finally noticed something was off, walked up to the Emperor, and spoke a few words to him in a low voice.

Hearing this, Yang Zao’s hand, which had been bent over sorting through furs, paused. He turned to look at Hu Yougui, who was gazing up at the sky, and laughed: “That bunch of foolish boys came quickly enough. Fifth brother, call your elder brother over.”

Hu Yougui pinched his nose, looked up at the surrounding rooftops, coughed once, then stopped walking. When his elder brother passed by him, he shamelessly reached out and felt around in the man’s small pouch.

Chen Dasheng looked at him curiously, and Hu Yougui, quite self-righteously, jutted his chin toward the front: “Our lord took my money.”

Then, somewhat annoyed: “He took this whole month’s worth, didn’t leave me a single coin.”

Chen Dasheng nodded: “Don’t even hope he’ll pay you back.”

He glanced again at Hu Youlu, who looked dazed and rather foolish, chewing slowly on a mouthful of meat, then looked at his shoes and clothes, bent down, pulled another pouch from his own sleeve, and tossed it to Hu Yougui: “A meeting gift for the little brother. Studying is hard work — hurry and take him to the market entrance to buy something to get through winter.”

Hu Yougui was delighted: “Got it. I’ll have him stay at the yamen from now on, then.”

Chen Dasheng nodded: “Good! The snow’s getting heavier, hurry along. The little brother’s wearing so little, he’ll catch a chill soon.”

Having settled his sworn brother, Chen Dasheng wrapped his old sheepskin coat tighter, then hurried over to the Emperor’s side with a smile, gave a slight gesture, and asked: “Our lord’s just strolling about — why call for me?”

Yang Zao chuckled, set down the stinking sheepskin, clapped his hands, and said: “Do you know what they’ll say when they see me?”

Chen Dasheng sniffed, handed over the little hand warmer he’d been holding to the Emperor, and said: “Who cares what they say. You warm up first.”

With that, he walked on beside the Emperor at ease.

He and the Emperor really were relatives by blood; it had always been this way in the palace too — as long as one wasn’t standing on ceremony, they stayed close.

When they passed by a few of the Imperial Princes, Chen Dasheng nodded earnestly to show respect, indicating that he couldn’t properly bow and hoped the young masters wouldn’t mind.

The Emperor, helpless, walked on ahead with his hands behind his back. Chen Dasheng hurried to catch up and said: “However they put it, it’s for your own good, isn’t it? At most those officials at the yamen will bring a crowd of people, all kneeling before you in a great commotion, pretending to be alarmed to expose you, so you can’t go strolling anymore.”

The Emperor’s steps paused slightly; he gave a stifled snort and continued: “And that Meng Wulang?”

Chen Dasheng put it even more bluntly: “Lord Meng — a proper, careful man! At most he’ll have every stall in the whole market swapped out for Jiu Si Tang’s people.”

A snicker sounded from behind; the Second Prince, Yang Zhen, laughed and said: “That’s exactly right.”

Chen Dasheng laughed too, turned to the Second Prince and said quietly: “Old Commander Ling has always been careful — he’d never dare let anything happen to our lord.”

The Second Prince shook his head helplessly: “It’s just that he’s too careful — always looking ahead and behind, tiring himself out.”

Chen Dasheng laughed and slowed to walk alongside him: “Each has his own merits — none of them mean any harm. But it’s best they’re not seen by Old Liu and the others — they’re all so jumpy, either asking if you told your family before coming out, or bringing people to surround the whole area…”

The Emperor, unable to bear it any longer, turned and scolded with a laugh: “So in this whole world, you’re the only good person, is that it?”

Chen Dasheng smiled, quite calm about it: “My father says you, my lord, used to love strolling about more than anyone. Now that you’re seated up there, it’s out of necessity. Otherwise, you’d be the greatest carefree immortal in the world. Besides, guarding the… keeping watch over the household isn’t the business of us Carrier Pigeons — we’re just decoration at the South Gate. Watching over you is still Old Liu and his men’s job.

Running into you today was pure coincidence — we’re just out buying New Year’s goods. Besides, three hundred sixty-five days a year, you’re the… cough, the big estate master, aren’t you? And still can’t stroll your own fields? No matter, today you enjoy yourself — in the end it won’t be me who gets scolded or punished.”

The Emperor fell into that sentimental, ruler’s mood — warmed and touched by these words, yet that last line struck him as rather odd.

Helpless, he could only snort coldly again: “This is — this is my own front door, damn it. All these years I haven’t strolled through it even once.”

Chen Dasheng nodded repeatedly: “That’s right. Just go on and stroll — no one’s stopping you.”

The Emperor pursed his lips: “As if I needed you to tell me that.”

With that, he walked on with his hands behind his back, finally stopping his steps before a cart selling inferior charcoal, pausing to ask the price. One question, one weighing — eighty coins — and he grew somewhat displeased.

He continued asking along the way — inferior charcoal actually went for ninety, ninety-five, and the most expensive, best-quality charcoal was being sold for as much as one hundred thirty coins per unit.

A single unit was at most ten catties.

The Emperor didn’t realize he’d made himself unwelcome; he wasn’t buying, just asking around. Finally he came to an old man with quite a temper, who ignored him entirely, spat on the ground, turned to add tobacco to his pipe, and moved off to the side.

This left the Emperor rather embarrassed.

Chen Dasheng, seeing that the old charcoal seller had no idea whom he’d offended, sauntered over to the Emperor’s side and said with a smile: “My lord, there’s no need to be upset over this. What rank do you hold, and what’s he but a lump of mud? This matter of charcoal prices isn’t even worth your concern — it’s about to snow, doubling or tripling the price two or three times is only normal… and this is just the beginning. In a couple more days it might multiply several times more… it all depends on how Heaven wills it…”

Before he could finish, the Second Prince walking beside them said with a smile: “Marquis Chen, that’s not quite right. If everyone were like this old man, should the poor of Yandu just freeze to death?”

Chen Dasheng only laughed: “You speak the truth! Second Young Master is right — I’m a man of low standing and shallow views, seeing things one-sidedly. I can’t compare to you gentlemen who’ve studied the great books. I only didn’t want our lord to get upset.”

Just as he finished, the Sixth Prince tugged at Chen Dasheng’s arm and swung it, asking: “Marquis Chen, can you sing ‘Xuanming’?”

Xuanming was a sacrificial hymn often sung in offerings to the Winter God.

Chen Dasheng immediately understood that this child had a compassionate heart for the world, and also wanted to protect him. He wanted to pat the boy’s head, but with the boy’s father watching nearby, he could only say with a smile: “Sixth Young Master, this winter’s snow will fall as it wills, even if you sing Xuanming a hundred times over.”

The Sixth Prince nodded, somewhat dejected: “Then I… then I’ll go home and copy out some scripture to pray for blessings. They all say the elderly have such a hard time in winter…” He turned to look again at the charcoal-selling old man, then at his second elder brother, then at his silent fifth elder brother, and in the end said nothing more about immortals and deities.

As for the Emperor, after walking on for a stretch, he calmed down and gradually understood what Chen Dasheng had meant.

This boy, Dasheng, understood everything in his heart, yet he would never contradict him openly in front of others — completely unlike his father. At times he considered the Emperor’s feelings even more than his own biological sons did.

If not for the fact that the man before him was the Emperor, once he’d understood, he wouldn’t have felt he’d lost face over it. He turned and asked Chen Dasheng: “Tell me — in a good year, come winter, how does the market price of charcoal usually run?”

This meant he wasn’t holding it against him.

Chen Dasheng thought it over briefly, then said: “In an ordinary year come winter, it generally runs around thirty coins per unit, and firewood at one hundred twenty catties per load sells for roughly a hundred coins. If it’s a year with heavy snow like this one, it can run to around two hundred coins.”

The Emperor nodded, then looked at the old man again and laughed: “I won’t hold it against him — but you really do care about the common people.”

Hearing this, Chen Dasheng laughed again: “My lord, what are you saying — caring for the people has nothing to do with me. I’m not even getting by well myself these days, still hoping you’ll give me a few extra months’ pay…”

Before he could finish, the Emperor reached out and slapped his back: “Spoiled, that’s what you are. Five hundred coins not enough, and you want to ask your wife for more? Don’t have the nerve for that, do you — that’s why you come to me, ha! I’m the impressive one! Go spend your five hundred coins, you useless thing, heh!”

Having laughed, he waved his sons over: “Just remembered — last year around Baiquan Mountain, to preserve the forest, felling was forbidden this year, only allowed to gather dead branches and dry wood for fuel. These old folks saved up for a whole year, and with the whole family, opened a small charcoal kiln, working day and night — waiting for exactly this kind of snow, hoping to earn a bit extra for the New Year. Heh! No wonder they always say governance always fails from the top — abandoning the old and adopting the new is hard, and if you’re not careful for even a moment, you lose sight of the road ahead…”

The princes all put on looks of having been taught a lesson, but then the usually quiet Fifth Prince suddenly looked up and said: “If you’re worried, since the storehouses are piled up like a sea, why not just release a few hundred thousand catties to lower the market price and help the common people? Why quibble over these few dozen coins?”

Ever since his uncle had passed, this boy’s words had turned sharp and bitter, and he’d stopped wanting much to do with the Emperor, resenting him for not having sought justice for his uncle.

The Emperor had brought his sons out today mainly for this boy’s sake. He was busy, and spent little time with his children throughout the year — especially Fifth Prince, Yang Ying, who these days seemed to carry firecrackers strung all over him, fuse lit.

The Fifth Prince’s words weren’t pleasant to hear. The Emperor, despite his rank, was still a father.

So he patiently asked with a smile: “Oh? That method of yours… isn’t bad at all.”

The Second Prince chimed in idly from the side: “Fifth Brother is quite well-informed, to know the Ministry of Works’ storehouse reserves.”

The Fifth Prince snorted and immediately retorted sharply: “Second Brother, who exactly are you mocking? What does the Ministry of Works’ Fuel Bureau do, if not this? If their storehouses don’t have a million catties in reserve, then Lord Wuchang Nian should just go kneel at the South Gate and take his flogging himself!”

Things were clearly turning tense. The Sixth Prince wanted to step forward and intervene, but before he could, his cloak was stepped on and he nearly fell. Chen Dasheng caught him at once, and whispered in his ear: “Let them argue. Don’t get involved.”

Once the Sixth Prince had steadied himself, the two of them stepped back together, one looking at the sky, the other at the ground.

The Second Prince, publicly mocked, was too stunned to respond at first. By the time he’d recovered enough, his face flushed and he was about to say something, when, quite unexpectedly, the Emperor said: “Well then, as the elder brother, you should give way to him today. He and Liu Zhenzhi were closest — the boy’s lost his uncle…”

Having said this, the Emperor came up and pulled Yang Ying, father and son, forward together, walking as he asked: “This strategy of yours, opening the public granaries to lower prices and aid the people, has been done before, though it’s usually used to stabilize grain prices, where the price can be recovered through the major merchants. But for charcoal, the only reserve in all of Yandu is the one set aside for the palace. There’s no precedent for this.”

An emperor asking for policy advice — it was really just a father doting on and teasing his son.

In truth, this whole matter of charcoal prices had nothing to do with the Emperor at all — he kept so many officials for exactly this. If something was wrong, it was the business of the provincial governors, or a matter for Yandu’s various offices to petition the Ministry of Revenue or the Ministry of Works about.

But the Fifth Prince didn’t know this — his knowledge hadn’t yet moved beyond books, and not wanting his father to think little of him, he said very earnestly: “The common people’s concerns go no further than hunger seeking food and cold seeking clothing — nothing more. If the court cannot even assist with this much, over time it becomes resentment among the people. The sages of old each held their own views — some championed benevolence, some universal love, some ‘first compassion, second frugality, third not daring to be first in the world’… these were all demands made of rulers. Would you set aside the words of the sages to look instead for precedent?”

What an interesting thing for a child to say.

The Emperor laughed inwardly but praised his fifth son very seriously: “Hm — thinking it over carefully, that is indeed well said. My son speaks rightly. I’ll issue an order when I return for Wuchang Nian to come to the palace, and have the Ministry of Works coordinate with the offices around Yandu to release storehouse charcoal and stabilize market prices.”

Yang Ying, grown this old, was being taken seriously by his father for the very first time.

He stood stunned, and after a good while stammered, his face flushing: “You… you’re just teasing me.”

The Emperor shook his head seriously, took his hand, and said: “No. I’m glad you can think this way — that you can put your heart toward different places, not caught endlessly circling within a single school of thought. Your uncle taught you well.”

Yang Ying felt a pang of sorrow, but his temper softened, and he walked behind the Emperor, chattering a little about his uncle’s virtues.

“Father… Father…”

“I’m right here.”

“Oh, Father, Papa! My uncle was truly remarkable.”

“Mm, I know.”

“My uncle… my uncle wasn’t liked by the elder officials.”

“That’s because the elder officials’ path differed somewhat from his own. Still, everyone admired his scholarship. Oh, but I don’t know — my son, how far did you get in your studies with your uncle?”

“I… My uncle said, ‘Heaven begets man, man begets me, yet I am not alone’… I’ve read the hundred schools — some speak of Heaven, some of self, some of hard and white, some of the five elements, some of yin and yang… but in truth, what’s useful is always much the same. Setting aside all this talk of Heaven and Man, of nature and feeling, what’s useful is only that one point — broadening the land and the people. Really, those men were rather foolish, exhausting their minds to dress up their own imaginings to explain to rulers. Uncle said, Uncle said — never mind whose theory it is…”

Tears streamed down Yang Ying’s face as he choked out: “Uncle said, never mind whose it is — in the end, isn’t it still yours? Just take whatever’s useful and put it to use…”

The Emperor felt a slow release of tension in his chest, and comforted his son aloud: “Liu Zhenzhi truly was a pity.”

After all this time, this was the one thing Yang Ying had needed to hear. Now that his father had said it, his heart found comfort, and he relaxed completely, letting his father lead him along.

But he had no idea that inside, the Emperor was cursing bitterly — fortunate that madman had died early, or he’d have nearly ruined his own son’s education.

The Kingly Way — what kind of way was it? It was a way that could only be extended from the Way of Heaven first. Otherwise, since ancient times, most schools of thought had to begin their explanations from the Way of Heaven, from Heaven and Earth, from the mysteries of the five elements, in order to then establish the legitimacy of the Kingly Way. That damnable scoundrel had actually regarded all of this as dregs to be discarded — truly, it was good that he died.

Father and son walked ahead together in warm closeness, leaving the eagerly performing Second Prince, Yang Zhen, behind.

Hearing his father praise Liu Zhenzhi, Yang Zhen slowly felt a flicker of relief in his heart.

His uncle-teacher had said it was too rash to act now — but was this really rash? If Fifth Brother were left in his hands to be taught a few more years, would there still be a place for himself in his father’s heart?

He forced up a bit of a smile, meaning to show some brotherly affection and go back to fetch his sixth brother, but instead found his sixth brother clinging to that contracted servant’s arm, acting… coquettish?

Sixth Prince Yang Qian tugged at Chen Dasheng’s arm, pleading softly: “Fourth Brother, tell me more about An’er. Grandmother says he’s especially good, so clever.”

Yang Qian had been raised by Empress Dowager Jiang. These days Empress Dowager Jiang spent half her year at the temple and half at Qinwei Alley keeping the old Madam Chen company.

However many words the old lady had to say, they all circled around the Chen family, around Qinwei Alley, and around the children of that alley.

The Sixth Prince always went to visit his grandmother, and when grandmother and grandson were together, the old lady would tell him all the charming little things An’er did.

So naturally the Sixth Prince grew close to Chen Dasheng too, and when no one was around, he called him Fourth Brother, and Chen Dasheng never objected.

His own grandmother had raised the whole Chen family — what did it matter if he let the boy call him brother?

Of course, this depended on the person. Chen Dasheng wouldn’t let the Second Prince or the Fifth Prince call him brother — mainly because those two didn’t have honest hearts.

As far as he was concerned, the little chubby one was the endearing one.

Hearing the little chubby prince ask about his own son, Chen Dasheng thought it over and said proudly: “That little brat, clever my foot! He’s terribly naughty — you have no idea, he’s gotten worse and worse lately! I don’t even dare open my mouth in front of him anymore — the moment I open it, he crawls over and pries my mouth open to check what I’m eating. If there’s nothing, fine, but if there is, he’ll dig out whatever I’ve already chewed up and stuff it into his own mouth — the ungrateful little thing!”

The Sixth Prince burst out laughing.

The Second Prince had slowed his pace, hoping to overhear what this future prince-to-be-enfeoffed was saying to his sixth brother — only to hear this instead.

The group walked far off together, and the more he thought about it, the more vivid it became in his mind, until at last he stood there in the street, retching.

Just then Chen Dasheng, chewing on a cake, noticed him, turned back with his mouth still full, and asked the Sixth Prince beside him:

“Eh~ what’s wrong with you? Caught a cold wind, did you?”

“Ugh…”