“Minister Wei.”
Wei Congwen stepped forward. “This official is present.”
“The Ministry of Rites must give the utmost care and attention to the affairs of my late Imperial Father’s passing. Should I fall short in any point of propriety, you are to remind me at once.”
“Yes. This official would not dare be the least bit negligent.”
The Crown Prince glanced at him. He did not particularly like Wei Congwen, but he still remembered every lesson the Grand Tutor had ever taught him. And besides, Wei Congwen had some measure of merit from what had come before — call it merit balancing fault, and leave it at that.
“This Crown Prince hopes that each of you will set aside old grievances, share information openly with one another, and in this time when the Great Qing dynasty stands in the midst of wind and rain, unite in properly managing all internal affairs. The enemy is at our gates — we cannot afford disorder from within.”
The assembled ministers answered in unison.
With the others dismissed, the Crown Prince naturally let his formal bearing fall away in the presence of the two regent advisors. He settled into his seat and gestured for them both to sit as well. “Though I know little of military matters, I am aware that a replacement garrison commander must be named as quickly as possible to prevent morale from crumbling further. Yet among the court’s military commanders, there appears to be a distinct gap between the experienced generation and those who follow. Do either of you have any thoughts?”
The Duke of Founding State heaved a long sigh. “The Great Qing dynasty has gone without conflict for many years. Not only among court officials — even the generals at the frontier have mostly never commanded actual battle. Meanwhile, the Chaoli tribe has been preparing for years. When the prepared strike the unprepared, once war truly breaks out, the dynasty may well find itself in grave danger.”
That observation said nothing useful, and the Crown Prince was already agitated enough over the matter. His brow creased and he was about to snap a sharp response when Bailin, quick-eyed and quick-handed, placed a cup of tea into his hands and, in a spot the senior officials could not see, gave him a look.
That silent gesture steadied the Crown Prince. He lowered his head and drank two slow sips. When he raised his face again it appeared, on the surface, perfectly tranquil — though he had lost all appetite for further discussion. “You are both pillars of this nation. I ask that you return home and think on this carefully. By tomorrow’s court session, a replacement for General Sun must be decided upon.”
“Yes.”
Before leaving, Gu Yanxi cast a glance at Bailin. Bailin gave him a small, quiet nod. Hua Zhi’s most recent task for him had been to study how to maintain and balance his relationship with the Crown Prince — and he was slowly beginning to find the rhythm of it.
Lai Fu, always sharp when it came to reading a room, led the remaining attendants out to wait beyond the door.
With no outsiders left in the room, the Crown Prince’s shoulders sagged. “I want to ask the Grand Tutor to come to the palace.”
“The late Emperor’s decree forbids my elder sister from participating in governance. Even if you invited her here, there would be little she could do.” Hua Bailin was gathering up portions of the map and setting them aside, leaving only the eastern section visible. “She is currently on a regimen requiring medicinal meals three times a day. The palace is not equipped to prepare them.”
The Crown Prince’s shoulders sagged further. “It is I who have worn the Grand Tutor out. If I had not become the Crown Prince…”
Bailin paused in his movements, then simply set the map down and took a seat directly across from the Crown Prince. “Your Highness is both right and wrong in saying so. My elder sister acts for the sake of her student — not because of your status as Crown Prince. And Your Highness need not say that it would have been better if you had never been her student at all. Wouldn’t it be a waste if someone with my elder sister’s talents had no student worthy of inheriting them?”
The pride on Bailin’s face was entirely unconcealed. “Don’t let my having taken Master Mu as my formal teacher mislead you. In truth, I have received most of my education by my elder sister’s side — not that Master Mu is lacking in any way, but what my elder sister teaches is better suited to the Great Qing dynasty as it stands today. These are things no other teacher could impart. They say that with great ability comes great responsibility — that must surely be said with my elder sister in mind.”
The Crown Prince listened, and a warmth quietly settled in his chest. Just as Bailin had said — even before he was the Crown Prince, the Grand Tutor had never held back her care and effort for him. To allow himself to be discouraged and lose heart like this would truly be a failure of her teaching. In the decades still ahead, there would surely be crises far more severe than this one. If he could not withstand the weight of this, how would he manage what was yet to come? Would he simply yield the realm to another?
He gave Bailin’s shoulder a silent pat in wordless gratitude, then rose and stood before the map, gaze fixed on that long, sweeping line of frontier defense. He raised his voice: “Lai Fu — bring me the register of military commanders.”
“Yes.”
“Bailin — go to the Sun household and inform my maternal grandmother of what has happened. Bring an imperial physician along as well, in case one is needed.”
“Yes.” Hua Bailin let out a slow, quiet breath. He looked at the Crown Prince’s back with an expression that was difficult to read. He hoped that this companion who had once shared the same bed with him would always hold on to this feeling of regret and concern for his elder sister — and never do anything to hurt her.
Gu Yanxi went straight to the Hua household.
Hua Zhi looked up at him and instinctively glanced at the water clock. “You’re finished so early today?”
“I was summoned to the palace just now. An urgent call from the Crown Prince.”
At the words urgent call, Hua Zhi gave him her full attention. “What has happened?”
Gu Yanxi sat down across from her, and meeting her gaze, he found himself momentarily unable to begin. This person — how fervently she hoped that everyone around her might prosper. She would rather not see a single person so much as lose a hair. For all the sharp, capable air she projected, for all that her reputation for competence had spread not just through the capital but across the nine provinces, inside she was so soft — the moment someone was an acquaintance, she wanted to look out for them, fretting over this person, worrying over that one, terrified that someone might come out the worse for it.
Though she had never met General Sun in person, she had been willing, out of respect for his hopes and wishes, to let herself be used by the late Emperor — pouring out a great sum of silver to produce those pressed meat snacks and crispy noodles. She had never tried to hide her admiration for General Sun, who had stood as a guardian of one corner of the realm. If he could have chosen, he would not have wished to be the one to tell her this.
But this news would be known to the entire court by tomorrow. How could it possibly be concealed from her.
He took her hands in his. Gu Yanxi spoke each word with deliberate care: “General Sun was targeted in an ambush. He has fallen in battle.”
Hua Zhi was stunned for a moment. “The Chaoli tribe?”
“Yes.”
“With the garrison commander gone — what has become of Shouyai Pass?”
“Holding on.”
Almost as an instinct, Hua Zhi asked again: “Who takes over?”
Gu Yanxi gave a slow, quiet shake of his head. “There was no time to cultivate a successor.”
Hua Zhi lifted her cup of tea as though it were wine and drained it in a single swallow. “Is there no possibility of promoting from among the deputy commanders?”
“The garrison commander of Shouyai Pass has always been chosen by the outgoing commander — someone the old general identifies personally, reports to the court, then takes in hand and trains at his side until the man can command the soldiers’ respect through his own ability alone. Only then is the command relinquished. It has passed this way, one generation to the next. A deputy commander alone will not be able to hold authority over the troops.”
“If that is how command is passed down — then who in the court today could step into that role?”
Indeed — no one. Gu Yanxi let out a hollow smile and lowered his head. No one at all.
A thought suddenly struck Hua Zhi with such force that she rose sharply to her feet. The movement was too abrupt, and for a moment her vision went dark. She swayed before finding her footing. She gently but firmly pushed away the hand Gu Yanxi extended to steady her, and asked in a low, resolute voice: “You intend to go — don’t you?”
“Hua Zhi…”
“Don’t you?”
Gu Yanxi’s throat tightened, an ache spreading through his chest. But he could not lie to her. He could only nod. “Yes. I intend to go.”
Hua Zhi turned her back to him. She shut her eyes. Her voice seemed to force its way out from between clenched teeth: “Go back to your Shizi’s household.”
“Hua Zhi…”
“Go!”
Gu Yanxi had not expected Hua Zhi to see through his intentions before he had said a single word — and he had not expected her reaction to be this strong. This was the first time Hua Zhi had ever shown anger toward him. He tried to explain: “Hua Zhi, I…”
“Are you leaving, or am I?”
Ying Chun, who had been waiting just outside the door, came quickly inside. She supported her young mistress with both hands and turned a pleading gaze toward the Shizi.
Gu Yanxi gave a nod. “Don’t be angry. I’ll go.”
He looked at Hua Zhi’s back, written over entirely with rejection and fury, and took one step backward after another until he was outside the room. He heard Hua Zhi have someone close the door — shutting him out entirely.