The night watchman’s clapper sounded the hour of midnight. Of all the offices of the Six Ministries, only the duty rooms still had lights burning, and now even the last lamp went dark.
The winter night was bitterly cold. Chai Ping rubbed his hands together as he came out of the Ministry of Justice’s prison, and ran into several palace patrol guards coming the other way. They stepped forward to check his fish tally, and one remarked, “Attendant Censor, working so late tonight?”
Chai Ping laughed. “The third young master’s back and gave me some tasks to see to—here I am, working through the night.”
He held the rank of Attendant Censor, technically above Cheng Chang, but since Cheng Chang was the young prince, it wasn’t out of place for him to run errands on his behalf.
The patrol guard said, “You’ve worked hard, my lord.”
Chai Ping nodded, and once the guards had moved off, he tucked his hands into his sleeves and left the palace through a small side gate.
The streets were already empty. Only at the mouth of an alley not far off sat a carriage with a lantern marked with the character “Chai” hanging from it. The servant waiting beside the carriage saw Chai Ping and called out, “My lord.” Then he asked, “My lord, heading home?”
Chai Ping answered with a soft “Mm.”
He’d meant to climb into the carriage right away, his leg already lifted—but for some reason, he hesitated and lowered it again. He stepped back, straightened his robes, then rubbed his hands together and hopped in place a few times, as if trying to shake off the chill before he dared board.
The carriage curtain fell, the servant cracked the whip, and the carriage rumbled off through the winter streets. Once inside, Chai Ping didn’t sit, but bowed before the figure seated there in a raven-black cloak. “Your Highness, this humble servant has kept you waiting too long—an unforgivable transgression.”
The cloaked figure seemed to be resting with eyes closed. After a moment, he slowly opened them. “No matter.”
Chai Ping said, “This servant has just come from inquiring at the Ministry of Justice. Before today’s welcome-home banquet, the third young master requested the transcript from his previous personal interrogation of Luo Shu, and said he intends to question her again tomorrow morning—alone this time, with no scribe present to record it.”
“Your Highness, do you think the third young master has already guessed that our man is the scribe in the Ministry of Justice’s prison, and that we used Luo Shu to set the trap luring him to Clearwind Court?”
At this, the carriage fell silent for a long moment.
After a while, the cloaked figure said, “Given that he’s already circled the very edge of life and death once, it would be strange if he hadn’t guessed.”
“Your Highness speaks truly.” Chai Ping nodded. “But this servant had always assumed the third young master was still that same muddle-headed fellow as before. Who could have known that ever since he fell into the water, he’s become so sharp.”
He went on, “This servant has also sent people to inquire how the third young master survived after falling off the cliff, but none of our people were among the Palace Command troops who went to fetch him, and along the entire journey back, the third young master barely spoke to anyone about what happened after his fall. So this servant hasn’t yet gotten to the bottom of it. Still, this servant sent someone to the East Sea fishing village earlier—word should come back before long.”
“No need.” The cloaked figure said. “As he fell, a branch jutting out sideways caught him briefly. What happened after he landed below the cliff, even he himself doesn’t quite remember. Later, people from the East Sea fishing village found him along the shore of Baiyun Lake. He was unconscious at the time, with no injury on his body save a knife wound on his arm. After he woke in the fishing village, he felt no discomfort at all.”
“This…” Chai Ping clicked his tongue. “How does Your Highness know all this so precisely?”
It sounded as though the third young master had told him personally.
But of course he didn’t need to wait for the cloaked figure to answer—thinking it over, he said, “But that doesn’t add up. After the third young master fell, our men held lanterns and examined the cliff face carefully. That cliff is sheer—even with the branch, it could hardly have broken his fall much. And the shallow shore of Baiyun Lake below is covered in loose rocks. Falling from that height, even if he wasn’t smashed to pieces, how could he possibly come away without a single injury? Besides, our men searched both the shore and the water several times over—there’s no way they missed anything—and yet there was no sign of the third young master at all.”
As he spoke, he turned the matter over in his mind, and the more he thought about it, the more it troubled him.
His thoughts running away with him now, he couldn’t help but continue. “Your Highness, do you remember the previous time the third young master fell into the water?”
The cloaked figure gave a soft “Mm.”
“That time, he was submerged for the length of an entire stick of incense—an ordinary man would have long since gone to meet the King of Hell. And yet when he was pulled out, he showed no signs of life at first, but by the time he was carried back to the Capital Prefecture, he suddenly came back to life, as if rising from the dead.”
“Your Highness, do you think…” Chai Ping hesitated. “Could there be such people in this world—people who simply cannot die, no matter what? Or perhaps, even if they do die, they come back to life?”
The carriage rolled along the deep-night streets at an unhurried pace. Just as Chai Ping spoke these words, a gust of cold wind happened to lift the corner of the carriage curtain, letting a draft in, and the lamp inside the carriage flickered slightly. Chai Ping’s gaze drifted instinctively toward it, and he happened to catch sight of a desolate, hazy moon in the night sky, and he couldn’t help but shiver.
The cloaked figure sat in silence, and it wasn’t clear whether he’d taken in the words at all. After a while, he asked, “Mao Jiu—have you found him?”
Mao Jiu was the man with the knife-scarred palm that Yun Xi and Cheng Chang had both been searching for.
“Not yet.” Chai Ping’s face was full of shame. “A while back, our people spotted him on Vermilion Bird Street. We gave chase, tracked him as far as the Qinhuai River, but lost him there.”
“It was truly too difficult to operate in Jinling at the time. The third young master was missing, the Palace Command’s men were scouring the city day and night, the Grand Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet was drawing near, Western Region dancers had arrived in the capital for the celebration, and the streets were packed with people come to watch the spectacle. This servant worried Mao Jiu might slip out of Jinling amid the confusion of the dancers’ arrival, and immediately sent men to search the area for a hundred li around the city—but still couldn’t find him.”
Hearing this, the cloaked figure’s brow furrowed slightly, as if somewhat angered. But after a moment, he softened his tone. “It’s not your fault. Mao Jiu is, admittedly, rather capable.”
Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent him to make contact with the boatman, to slip the gold bar into Cheng Chang’s sleeve.
“Many thanks for Your Highness’s understanding,” Chai Ping said. “But this servant’s time lingering in the palace today wasn’t entirely wasted—this servant learned a most important piece of news.”
He glanced at the cloaked figure and lowered his voice. “His Majesty has recently begun mobilizing the men of the Imperial Bodyguard Bureau.”
“This king already knows of that,” the cloaked figure said languidly. “Father Emperor has sent Wei Jie with men to investigate the Yun Shuguang case, and to look further into exactly how the Crown Prince—my elder brother—died back then.”
“That works in our favor,” the cloaked figure said with a smile. “Wei Jie was close friends with Yun Luo. With him bringing the Imperial Bodyguard Bureau’s men into the Marquis of Zhongyong’s case, that Privy Council Commissioner, Yao Hangshan, won’t last much longer.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Chai Ping said, pausing briefly to gather his thoughts. “By rights, the Imperial Bodyguard Bureau’s operations should be quite covert—it’s rather remarkable that our people managed to discover this at all.”
“Hasn’t Your Highness had our people keeping watch over Mingyin Temple all these years? About five days ago, our man ran into some merchants at the foot of the mountain, asking about the nearby roads. Under normal circumstances, our man disguised as a farmer and them disguised as merchants should have raised no suspicion on either side. But when our man went up the mountain to relieve himself, he discovered these so-called ‘merchants’ had also gone up. Suspicious, our man followed them, and that’s when he discovered these ‘merchants’ had actually gone into Mingyin Temple itself.”
“Your Highness, think about it—ever since that bloody incident twelve years ago, when His Majesty formally decreed Mingyin Temple abandoned, who else could possibly enter that temple? Only men of the Imperial Bodyguard Bureau. If our man hadn’t already spent years disguised as a farmer in that area, the Bureau’s men, sharp as they are, would surely have noticed something amiss and never gone up the mountain at all.”
“This servant suspects that His Majesty’s health… must have taken a serious turn for the worse, and he can no longer wait, wishing to redouble efforts to find the person who went missing at Mingyin Temple all those years ago—which is why he’s sent the Imperial Bodyguard Bureau to investigate the clues once more.”
Hearing this, the cloaked figure sat in silence for a long while, then gave a cold laugh. “No wonder, at today’s family banquet, the moment Great-Grandmother mentioned Mingyin Temple, Father Emperor ended the feast at once and kept only Prince Cong behind for a private word. That’s his unresolved knot, and his only possible solution.”
Hearing that Emperor Zhaoyuan had kept Prince Cong behind alone, Chai Ping paused, then asked, puzzled, “Your Highness, His Majesty trusts Prince Cong absolutely—could keeping him behind for a private word mean he intends to have Prince Cong go search for the person who vanished at Mingyin Temple as well?”
“How could that possibly be?” the cloaked figure said with a wry laugh.
The carriage came to a stop in a deep alley. Chai Ping stepped down first, and holding up a lantern, led the cloaked figure toward another carriage parked at the alley’s mouth.
“Back when he was still just a prince himself, Father Emperor and Prince Cong went through life and death together, side by side. But the old man has sat on the throne far too long. Once a person takes that seat, suspicion creeps in no matter who they are. Father Emperor treats even me this way—so with Prince Cong, however much trust remains from those old days, it can no longer be unreserved. When it comes to the matter of succession, Father Emperor will never let Prince Cong have any part in it. Besides, since I’ve moved against Mingying, even if Prince Cong shows nothing on the surface, wouldn’t he privately want to uncover the truth and destroy me for it?”
“Father Emperor both hopes he’ll investigate and fears that he will—much as with Mingying himself, he hopes the boy will wake up to reality, yet worries he’ll become too clear-sighted. So Father Emperor keeping Prince Cong behind was likely meant both to placate him and, inevitably, to press him down a little. How to placate him? Most likely by moving forward with naming Mingying heir apparent to the princedom soon. And so the old man probably also gave Prince Cong a word of caution, to pass along to Mingying—that as the future prince, staying within his proper bounds matters most, and he mustn’t grow too close to the Yun family, especially Yun Xi, given that the Marquis of Zhongyong’s household has held military command in Great Sui for a century.”
With that, he took Chai Ping’s offered hand and climbed into his own carriage.
Chai Ping stood respectfully outside the carriage. “Your Highness speaks wisely, this servant has learned much. Might I ask, Your Highness—regarding His Majesty sending the Imperial Bodyguard Bureau to Mingyin Temple, should we take any countermeasures?”
“Countermeasures?” The lamplight cast the cloaked figure’s profile against the carriage wall, tracing a faint outline. He seemed somewhat weary, and raised a hand to press his brow. “Unless there’s movement from Mingying’s side, there’s no need to do anything.”
He let out a long sigh. “He’s grown old, his body failing him—it’s only natural he’d pin his hopes elsewhere, imagining that the person who vanished at Mingyin Temple all those years ago is some kind of miracle cure. Well, let him search then. Like a needle in the ocean—let’s see how long he keeps at it.”
…
At the exact hour of dawn, with the sky just beginning to tinge blue at the edges, Cheng Chang rose from bed.
Having spent the better part of half a month traveling on the road, he’d slept remarkably well last night, back at the mansion for the first time. Though he hadn’t slept especially long, he felt quite refreshed upon waking.
Sun Haiping, hearing movement from the side chamber, pushed open the door to find Cheng Chang already washed and dressed, and exclaimed in surprise, “Young Prince, you’re up so early?” Seeing he’d changed into his official robes, he couldn’t help but ask further, “Didn’t His Majesty grant you a few days’ leave? Why are you going to work?” Then he added hastily, “Wait for me, I’ll get changed and come along to patrol the streets with you.”
He’d assumed that since Cheng Chang was a Patrol Censor and had now returned to the capital, he needed to report for duty, and naturally that meant going to patrol the streets.
Cheng Chang, seeing Sun Haiping still half-asleep and confused, said, “No need. I’m going to the Ministry of Justice.”
Sun Haiping was startled for a moment before recalling that Cheng Chang had sent word to the Ministry of Justice the day before, saying he wanted to question Luo Shu.
But with the Grand Empress Dowager’s grand birthday only two days away, he’d assumed his young prince would wait until after the celebration to conduct the questioning. He hadn’t expected Cheng Chang to move with such swift decisiveness now, not delaying for even a moment.
Sun Haiping said, “Then I’ll go have your breakfast prepared right away.”
The mansion’s kitchen worked quickly, and before long, breakfast arrived.
Cheng Chang preferred light fare, and the table was set with plain congee and simple side dishes. He’d just picked up his chopsticks and was about to eat when he glanced up to see Sun Haiping alone serving the dishes, and paused, asking, “Where’s Zhang Dahu?”
Sun Haiping scratched his head. “Not sure. Haven’t seen him since he got up this morning.” He went to the door and called someone over to go find Zhang Dahu.
Before long, a gruff voice sounded from outside, “Young Prince, you have some errand for me to run?” Zhang Dahu came into the room right after.
Cheng Chang looked up and froze.
The mansion’s servants always wore plain cloth short jackets, and now that winter had set in, they’d at most add a lined jacket over top. But today Zhang Dahu was dressed in a moon-white long robe with wide sleeves, black cloud-toed boots on his feet, and on his head sat a refined-looking felt hat—though, admittedly, on his broad, tiger-like frame, the whole ensemble looked rather odd, it was undeniably quite dignified.
What business could he possibly be dressed up so sharply for?
Seeing Cheng Chang stunned into silence, Zhang Dahu asked again, “Young Prince, you have some errand for me?”
Cheng Chang had nearly finished his meal by then.
He wasn’t the sort to meddle in other people’s private affairs, and given that Zhang Dahu and Sun Haiping had spent two grueling months searching for him and then escorted him all the way back to the mansion, he’d specifically granted them leave to rest the day before.
“No, nothing. Just noticed you weren’t around, asked out of curiosity.” Cheng Chang took the cloth Sun Haiping handed him and wiped his hands, stood up, and looked Zhang Dahu over once more. “Go on and do whatever you were planning.”
“All right then,” Zhang Dahu nodded. “I’ll be off to the Marquis of Zhongyong’s mansion to see Captain Yun.”
Sun Haiping, in the middle of pouring Cheng Chang’s tea, was so startled his hand jerked, spilling most of it.
Cheng Chang: “…”
He turned his face away and looked Zhang Dahu up and down once more.
Sun Haiping said, “Wait, why are you going to see Captain Yun alone?”
Zhang Dahu was baffled. “How could you forget? Captain Yun agreed to take us to find the young prince, and we said we’d repay her for it. This is me going to repay her.”
“You’re repaying her dressed like that? Did a donkey kick you in the head?”
Zhang Dahu’s eyes went wide. “What’s wrong with this outfit? Doesn’t it look sharp?”
While the two of them argued, Cheng Chang had already put on his fur-lined cloak and stepped out through the door into the courtyard. Zhang Dahu remembered his young prince was headed to the Ministry of Justice that day, and hurried along with Sun Haiping behind him to respectfully see him off.
Sun Haiping tried once more to talk sense into Zhang Dahu. “If you want to repay Captain Yun, there’s no need to rush off so early—why not wait until the young prince gets back, and we can all go together with him?”
“No need. I’ll go do my thing, you go do yours.” Zhang Dahu said. “Besides, I’m planning to buy Captain Yun a few gifts—I need to go into town and look around first.”
Sun Haiping asked cautiously, “What gifts are you thinking of buying?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” Zhang Dahu scratched his head. “Captain Yun’s a young lady, so I figure, why not something like rouge and powder, hairpins, earrings, that sort of thing?”
Sun Haiping felt Zhang Dahu was beyond saving. “You know she’s a young lady and you’re going to give her rouge and jewelry?”
The carriage driver had already prepared the carriage and was waiting in the outer courtyard. Seeing Cheng Chang emerge, he hurried over to help him aboard.
Zhang Dahu and Sun Haiping stood by the roadside together, watching Cheng Chang’s carriage pull away, as Zhang Dahu went on, “What’s wrong with rouge and jewelry? Say what you will, but I’ve been looking closely these past few days, and Captain Yun’s actually really pretty—prettier than that Miss Qianqian or Miss Tonghua the young prince used to fancy on the pleasure boats, by a mile! She just doesn’t dress up, keeps it plain.”
Sun Haiping: “Please, for the love of everything, just stop talking.”
“Why? Weren’t you the one who asked?” Zhang Dahu said, baffled. “If nothing else, I’ll spend the next couple days at the Marquis’s mansion helping Captain Yun out with chores—her whole household’s full of invalids anyway, not enough hands to do the work…”
Cheng Chang’s carriage had already gone a fair distance down the road when it suddenly stopped. The driver turned the horse around and brought it back in front of the mansion.
Sun Haiping hurried over, bowing respectfully. “Young Prince, do you have some instruction?”
“That thing,” Cheng Chang said, lifting the curtain and glancing at Zhang Dahu. “Him…”
“Understood, understood.” Before Cheng Chang could say another word, Sun Haiping cut in at once. “I’ll have someone gag that idiot mouth of his right now, tie him up hand and foot besides—as long as you’re not back at the mansion, he won’t set one foot outside it, guaranteed, I’ll pin him down myself!”