On the other side of the palace, Gu Yanxi returned to the imperial study. He set a wrapped bundle on the floor, swept his robe aside, and knelt down squarely. The bundle fell open — and on top lay the mask of the Chief of the Seven-Lodge Division.
Lai Fu stole a glance at the Emperor from beneath lowered lashes, bowed, and withdrew from the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
Gu Yanxi raised one hand and tore the human-skin mask from his face. He pulled so hard the sound of it could be heard — a sharp tearing hiss — and his face reddened visibly before one’s eyes. Yet he seemed to feel nothing of it. He dropped the mask into the bundle, then pressed his forehead to the ground. “This subject has shown disrespect to Your Majesty. I beg Your Majesty to demote this subject to common rank.”
“Gu Yanxi. Are you threatening Us? All for the sake of one Hua Zhi?”
“This subject would not dare think so highly of himself.” Gu Yanxi raised his head. “This subject has been at Your Majesty’s side since the age of ten, educated by you, protected by you — I have never forgotten any of it. From the age of seventeen when I entered the Seven-Lodge Division until today, from the moment I opened my eyes each morning to the moment I closed them each night, every thought has been devoted to relieving Your Majesty of burdens. This subject has poured every last effort into protecting the Great Qing’s realm and keeping Your Majesty safe. You required a kinsman you could trust, so I cut my own face and dared not be too close even to my own sister. You required a capable minister, so I traveled across the empire without rest.”
Watching his Imperial Uncle’s expression grow steadily colder, Gu Yanxi smiled. “In truth, this subject has sought nothing in return. In this entire life, I have asked for only one thing — Hua Zhi — and you cannot permit it. Then I want nothing at all. Let me become a commoner and remain at her side. She at least will not think less of me. I beg Your Majesty, in consideration of these many years in which this subject has never slackened for a single moment, to grant this wish.”
The Emperor was both shaken and furious. He had anticipated that Yanxi would come to make a scene, had prepared himself for how he would placate the boy — but he had never imagined Yanxi would simply lay down everything and walk away. He could see clearly that this was no threat. The young man genuinely intended to give it all up, just to be with Hua Zhi.
He snatched up the jade paperweight and hurled it at Gu Yanxi. Gu Yanxi neither dodged nor flinched — he took it full in the face — and within moments a visible swelling rose on his cheek.
“We have never intended to take her life — can you not see that?!” The Emperor’s fury drove him to his feet, both hands braced on the desk as he leaned forward. “Saying she should enter the palace was nothing more than a test. Had she truly agreed, a woman like that would not deserve your sincerity. Her refusal proved you had not misjudged her. We did not lay a hand on her, did We? What is the meaning of this?”
“You have placed upon a single woman’s shoulders a task that would take the full resources of a nation and many years to complete. You have threatened her with every member of the Hua Family. And you call that not laying a hand on her? How is that any different from cutting her down on the spot?” Gu Yanxi raised his chin. “Was she wrong in a single thing she said? Internal strife unceasing, external threats pressing at the borders, the national treasury bare — and at this moment you wish to undertake great waterworks? Do you intend to drag the Great Qing to ruin? Harm the common people, and where will the soldiers come from? Without soldiers, how are the border passes to be defended? You wave your words about easily enough and turn a blind eye to every one of these problems. Is the stability of the realm not more important than a name?”
“To Us that is not a mere name. It is proof that We were here — that We lived and walked upon this earth.” The Emperor’s expression and tone turned cold and hard as iron. “We fought through three trials and six obstacles to reach this throne. We will not go down into the earth one day only to have them point their fingers and laugh at Us — say that We lacked ability, that We warmed this seat for nothing. To Us, that matters more than anything.”
Gu Yanxi fell silent. He had known what his Imperial Uncle wanted. He had not known the obsession had grown this consuming — that a name alone could matter more than the realm itself. Then what had been the point of all his years of vigilant service?
Gu Yanxi’s back sagged. All the tension drained out of him. He said slowly, each word deliberate: “Gu Yanxi petitions to be demoted to common rank.”
The Emperor’s breathing grew heavier. He dragged his weighted steps around the desk and came to stand before him, looking down from above at this nephew who had once given him such unshakeable trust. “You are so eager to share life or death with Hua Zhi?”
“Yes.”
“Willing to abandon Us? To abandon your grandmother?”
“Grandmother loves me. She will see me through.”
“Does Our love count for nothing? Who in the entire court does not know We treat the Shizi more warmly than any imperial prince? Is it truly so hard to give Us what We want?”
Gu Yanxi laughed, but the sound was bleak. “What cannot be done cannot be willed into existence. Tell me — how am I to give you what you want?”
“How do you know it cannot be done if you haven’t tried?” Seeing some small flicker in the young man’s resolve, the Emperor’s expression shifted — grief crept into it, made it older and more sorrowful. “Yanxi, We do not have many years left. Is this one wish so much to ask? Will you not see your uncle through this?”
“If there were even the slightest possibility I would pour every ounce of effort into it. But this… there is no possibility. I cannot conjure hundreds of thousands of laborers out of nothing. I cannot conjure mountains of gold and silver. Tell me — without money and without manpower, how is this to be done?”
Gu Yanxi raised his eyes and waited for an answer. The Emperor could not give him one. As Gu Yanxi himself had said — if money and men were simply available, what need would there have been for such a circuitous scheme? If it had not been worth damaging the bond between uncle and nephew, worth using Hua Zhi as a pawn, then what was the point? It was precisely her gift — that uncanny ability to turn nothing into gold — that he had counted on.
So long as Hua Zhi agreed, the money would come. The labor was simpler — a few years of extended corvée service would serve. The Chaoli tribe appeared poised to make another push, yet the tricks they had lately been resorting to told him plainly they lacked the strength for an open assault. If they had the means for it, why would they stoop to methods they once held in contempt? He truly did not believe they would choose, of all moments, the very season of the canal’s construction to force their way in.
The more he turned it over, the more he believed the thing could be done. A gleam of something close to excitement crossed the Emperor’s face. He flicked his sleeve and clasped his hands behind his back. “Don’t try to frighten Us. Even if you and Hua Zhi had no regard for your own lives, she could not bear to abandon those dependents of the Hua Family. Wait and see — she will find a way. Ah — go to the treasury presently and find some fine things to send to Hua Zhi. Consider it Our compensation to her.”
Gu Yanxi almost laughed. Then he did laugh — a short, quiet sound. He pressed his palms to the floor and stood. He looked at his Imperial Uncle, whose frame had long since lost its old commanding height, who no longer carried that bold and spirited bearing from the day he had saved him, and said softly, “You have always said you regard me as a son — that not a single imperial prince has ever been as close to you as I am. But no father would willingly drive his son toward death. No father would say it does not matter if you lay down your life. You are the Emperor; I am your subject. It has always been so and only so. I was the one who presumed too much.”
He kowtowed three times, slowly and deeply. In those three knocks Gu Yanxi severed the bond — this kinship that had never truly been able to withstand even a single storm. From this day forward, Emperor was Emperor, and subject was subject.
“This subject takes his leave.”
He gathered the bundle he had brought in, replaced the Chief’s mask of the Seven-Lodge Division, and retreated from the room in proper form, step by measured step.
The Emperor stared, his face ashen, at the door that this young man had once dared kick open, who had once managed what he ate, who had forcibly made him take his medicine. “Yanxi. Is this you drawing a line between yourself and Us?”
“In former times, this subject overstepped. Now that this subject is twenty-five, it is time to know better.” He bowed once more, deep and formal, then pulled the door open and walked away.
The Emperor stood with something blocked and heavy in his chest, and the longer he stood with it, the heavier it grew. He swept the imperial study into ruins and still the anger burning inside him would not die. He had only wanted to accomplish something. Why was that so unforgivable?