Chapter 13#
Chapter 13#
The next day at dawn, the clouds dispersed and the rain cleared.
This was Wen Zhuo’s first morning court session after his rebirth.
Emperor Shunyuan walked unsteadily, always supported by the eunuch Liu Quan.
The Spring Terrace Chess Assembly was approaching, and there were no major matters on the agenda today. He only needed to watch the descendants of the Eight Meridians bicker, trade verbal blows, and boast with chests puffed out. However, his two sons would not let him have peace.
Shangzhi Qin, the Minister of Works, suddenly stepped forward, knelt with a thud, as if determined to smash two pits into the great hall.
This was the typical style of a remonstrating official. Wen Zhuo sometimes felt sorry for their knees on their behalf.
As a core figure of the Worthy Prince’s faction, the moment he moved his legs, the Crown Prince and his party tightened their hearts.
Shangzhi Qin pulled a secret letter from his bosom, presented it with both hands, and said with a grave expression: “Your Majesty, I believe the case of Cao Fangzheng is not yet concluded.”
The Crown Prince turned sharply, glaring: “Shangzhi Qin, what do you mean! Was taking his life not enough? Do you intend to exterminate Cao’s entire clan?”
Cao’s clan included the Crown Prince, and even the current Emperor. Shen Zhen was trying to pin a huge crime on Shangzhi Qin.
The Worthy Prince would not let his man bear that cap. He stepped forward, relying on his tall and broad stature, casting a contemptuous glance at Shen Zhen, then putting on his usual look of concern for the nation before Emperor Shunyuan: “Minister Shang has not yet spoken a word. I wonder what the Crown Prince is in such a hurry about. Father, I believe this matter is significant, and it is better to hear him out. Over the years, Cao Fangzheng has been tyrannical and overbearing. I fear the Crown Prince has also been deceived on many points.”
Emperor Shunyuan rubbed his throat, turned aside to spit into a spittoon, then instructed Shangzhi Qin: “What is that thing you have? Speak.”
“Yes.” Shangzhi Qin handed the secret letter to Liu Quan, who came to take it, and then knelt, adjusting his robes: “The Spring Terrace Chess Assembly is approaching. Officials from various prefectures have come to the capital to participate. Among them is a water conservancy officer from Qianzhou. He heard that Cao Fangzheng had been convicted and imprisoned, and thus secretly reported to me.”
“Six years ago, a flood occurred at the Lianghe Ferry in Qianzhou, inundating countless fertile fields and farmhouses. Refugees sprang up everywhere, and grievances filled the air. Minister Bu of the Revenue Ministry should know that the court allocated two million taels for disaster relief. Later, Cao Fangzheng petitioned for the construction of the Lianghe Dam. Our Ministry of Works approved it, and the court allocated another three million taels. All these are recorded in the registers.”
Emperor Shunyuan nodded. He had a vague recollection of these matters.
Shangzhi Qin said indignantly: “The construction of the dam should have been completed through the collaboration of corvée laborers and civilian workers. Our Great Qian has long had the Equal Corvée Law to conscript the people. However, I learned yesterday that under Cao Fangzheng’s insinuation, the officials and petty officers in Qianzhou colluded to shift the heavy duties that should have been borne by landlords and gentry onto tenant farmers and refugees. Moreover, the rations and funds that the court allocated to the people were all taken by the corvée officials.”
“This caused many tenant farmers to neglect their farming seasons, and many died of poverty and hunger. Only elderly women and weak girls remained in their homes. Having no food to eat and no way out, they banded together, seduced and robbed passing merchants and officials. Cao Fangzheng then sent troops to suppress them, labeling them ‘Rouge Bandits.’”
“Outrageous!” Emperor Shunyuan glanced over the secret letter, his countenance suddenly changing. He flung the paper onto the black bricks. “The scoundrel deserves death!”
The ministers hastily knelt, shouting in disarray: “We are guilty.”
Shangzhi Qin raised his head, puffed out his chest, and glared at the Crown Prince’s faction, speaking with implication: “But who knows into whose pockets all the money Cao Fangzheng embezzled ultimately went!”
The Worthy Prince’s faction did not merely target Cao Fangzheng. They hoped to use him as a breach to uproot the entire Cao party and clip the Crown Prince’s wings.
The Crown Prince’s face instantly turned pale, and his legs felt weak. He quickly stole a glance at Gong Zhiyuan.
Gong Zhiyuan pondered for a moment, then spoke: “Your Majesty, the water conservancy officer’s words cannot be fully trusted. This happened six years ago. If the malpractices were truly so severe, why did the water conservancy officer not report it to the court at that time? I believe he bears a personal grudge against Cao Fangzheng and is now kicking him when he is down. I think this move is not for the court’s benefit; his intentions are punishable. Your Majesty should remember that Cao Fangzheng was once commended by the court for his meritorious service in flood control.”
Gong Zhiyuan’s key point was the last sentence.
Back then, Emperor Shunyuan personally commended Cao Fangzheng, praising him as “loyal, diligent, and outstanding in achievements.” If Cao Fangzheng were now deemed guilty, it would mean that the Emperor had made a mistake.
If the embezzlement case were investigated thoroughly, it would inevitably be recorded in history, and Emperor Shunyuan would bear the infamy of failing to distinguish loyal from treacherous.
Sure enough, upon hearing this, Emperor Shunyuan calmed down and remained silent for a long time.
Wen Zhuo had long anticipated the Emperor’s reaction. This was not a darkness in the Emperor’s nature, but a darkness common to all.
It is difficult enough for an ordinary person to admit a mistake, let alone a Son of Heaven. Throughout history, how many have issued edicts of self-blame?
However, Cao Fangzheng’s matter could be suppressed, but the thunderous bombshell Wen Zhuo had prepared for him was already on its way.
Emperor Shunyuan finally spoke: “Cao Fangzheng, showing no respect for his sovereign, committing high treason and rebellion. He is to be immediately executed by bastinado on the Imperial Palace Long Street!”
Shangzhi Qin: “Your Majesty!”
The tassels on the imperial crown swayed lightly. The aging monarch raised his drooping eyelids, and once again revealed the chilling indifference of one long accustomed to holding power.
Among the court officials, Xie Langyang’s mind was always fixed on Wen Zhuo. He waited for them to exchange a glance as they used to, even if it was a hateful one.
But Wen Zhuo did not look in his direction even once. Instead, he kept his eyes on the lively scene.
Xie Langyang’s palm curled slightly. After about half a cup of tea, Wen Zhuo seemed to sense something and abruptly withdrew his gaze. However, it did not linger on him for a moment, as if brushing past an unimportant speck of dust.
Xie Langyang’s chest felt as if stuffed with waterlogged cotton. He repeatedly recalled Wen Zhuo’s resolute demeanor in the Cool Breeze Hall, and a bitter taste spread on his tongue.
From beginning to end, had he ever had any choice?
Imperial power was like a mountain. He never expected that after Wen Zhuo left, he himself would become a chess piece crushed beneath it.
But he opened his mouth, yet could not console himself, because the grievances Wen Zhuo had suffered were a hundred times greater than his. So he could only let out a sigh.
The Directorate of Ceremonial loudly announced the end of court. The officials took their leave one after another. Although the Crown Prince had lost his maternal uncle this time, his losses were limited.
The Crown Prince’s faction surrounded Gong Zhiyuan, praising his composure in the face of danger, worthy of the Grand Secretary.
Gong Zhiyuan even took the time to greet his son-in-law Xie Langyang. Xie Langyang hastily bowed: “Master.”
When Gong Zhiyuan was escorted away, Xie Langyang hurried to find Wen Zhuo, but there was no trace of him.
He rushed out hastily and finally found him on the Imperial Palace Long Street.
Wen Zhuo stood by the side of the palace road, his hands clasped and hidden within his official robe, watching the execution.
Executions by bastinado in the palace were common, ranging from officials who offended the imperial majesty to servants who made mistakes. So there were not many onlookers, but Wen Zhuo watched very attentively.
Cao Fangzheng’s hands were pinned down firmly. The bloodstained staff was raised high and brought down with a dull thud.
Any person’s dignity and pride became insignificant under such soul-crushing pain. Cao Fangzheng could no longer make human sounds. He convulsed violently like a fish out of water. Blood flowed down his thin clothes, dripping onto the cold brick pavement of early spring, spreading along the cracks. The smell of this tragic blood filled the nostrils of the onlookers.
Xie Langyang’s heart was full of words, but seeing the gruesome scene before him shattered them, and he could not utter a single word.
Because of him, Wen Zhuo had also suffered such a cruel punishment. It could not even be called humiliation; it was destruction.
Cao Fangzheng’s voice finally died away. Wen Zhuo withdrew his hand from his sleeve, turned his fingertips, and dropped a black chess piece to the ground.
The chess piece bounced with a “ding, ding” and lay in a pool of blood.
He spoke first, his smile laced with ice: “When will you return my ‘Ode to Evening Mountain’?”
“I…” Xie Langyang did not expect his own voice to tremble.
Wen Zhuo sneered: “Is Vice Minister Xie afraid?”
Xie Langyang wanted to say that he was not afraid, but felt pity for this person who had experienced the same.
Then he heard Wen Zhuo say: “No need to rush. You and Shen Chen will have your day too.”
After saying this, he walked along the Imperial Palace Long Street toward the palace gate.
Xie Langyang murmured to himself: “…Do you truly hate me this much?”
The sun was bright, and the wind was light. Wen Zhuo could not be bothered to glance at Xie Langyang again.
After getting into his carriage, Wen Zhuo headed straight to the East Tower.
There were four major chess houses in the capital: the East Tower on Chess View Street, the West Tower on Mingshi Street, the South Tower on Chaotian Street, and the North Tower on Lingchun Street.
Each chess house had over 700 large and small gaming rooms, capable of accommodating thousands of people playing chess for entertainment.
Whenever there was a major chess event, the four chess houses would hang a chessboard in the center of the building, sharing the key games in real time for all guests to appreciate.
On ordinary days, the chess houses were also bustling with customers, and the gaming rooms needed to be booked early. Only high-ranking court officials had the privilege of reserving the dozens of Heavenly Character rooms on the fifth floor.
Wen Zhuo walked in, recited the first half of a poem, and was led by a waiter through a secret passage to Room Jiazi.
This time, Shen Zhi arrived early, after all, he did not have to attend court.
As soon as he entered, Wen Zhuo saw Shen Zhi reclining by the chess table, playing with a square gray stone. He rhythmically lifted the stone and let it fall, then switched hands to do the same.
Wen Zhuo thought to himself: This is from doing hard labor in Nanping; he’s gotten addicted. He can’t be at ease unless he’s lifting something heavy.
Shen Zhi glanced at Wen Zhuo and smiled helplessly: “I beg you, when it comes to Zhao Shixiu’s poems, why didn’t you leave the most famous line ‘Idly tapping the chess piece, waiting for the lamp to gutter’? Instead, you left ‘In the eternal vastness of history, the dream of blue annals’? If I hadn’t studied widely as a child, I almost wouldn’t have made it in.”
Wen Zhuo looked at him in surprise: “What’s wrong with that? Zhao Shixiu’s most acclaimed poem is ‘Composed on the Gusu Terrace.’”
Shen Zhi choked.
The aesthetic difference between eras was truly vast.
Wen Zhuo took a cushion, knelt down, and reached out to smooth the spread of his robe. As he moved, his collar gaped slightly, revealing a small patch of skin on his neck, as lustrous as soft jade. The light streaming in through the window seemed to slide gently along the delicate texture, exuding boundless charm.
Shen Zhi stared at him for a while.
He couldn’t imagine how handsome Song Yu or Pan An were, but if Wen Zhuo were to go to the modern era, he probably wouldn’t be able to go out easily, or else he would block the streets.
Who knows if those later scholars and history enthusiasts who criticized Wen Zhuo verbally would show a bit more leniency and pity upon seeing this face.
“The place I used to live had a Sanlitun. I guarantee that if Teacher stood there for a minute, he’d be abducted by someone.”
Wen Zhuo took out chess pieces and placed them on the star points, komoku, and san-san of the board, saying coolly: “Poverty breeds evil. This ‘Tun’ you speak of is probably a desolate place in Nanping, with such savage customs.”
Shen Zhi was amused again: “Not at all. Whether Sanlitun is poor or not is subjective, but the desire to abduct you is objective.”
Wen Zhuo glanced up at him sidelong.
Shen Zhi wisely covered his mouth with the stone, indicating he would say no more.
Wen Zhuo said: “Move your stone away. It’s creepy.”
Shen Zhi: “No way. I had a hard time finding this one. Thick on both ends, thin in the middle. Fits perfectly in the hand.”
“What are you holding it for?”
“Strength training. Activating the biceps brachii. Never be a scrawny dog again.”
Although Shen Zhi often spoke with a Nanping flavor that Wen Zhuo did not understand, he still understood “strength training.”
He figured that Shen Zhi, after all, carried the bloodline of the Marquis of Yongning. Though he had left the capital at eight, he still had the soul of a military commander at heart.
Wen Zhuo felt a bit gratified, so his voice softened: “How much do you know about the Spring Terrace Chess Assembly?”
Shen Zhi: “A grand chess event, held once a year. If you get the title of National Chess Master, you can change your fate and gain great wealth. But for decades, National Chess Masters have basically come from aristocratic families, because they monopolize the most exquisite Go techniques.”
Wen Zhuo: “Correct. It was only after I entered officialdom that I gained access to various advanced techniques. Watch carefully the game I’ve set up.”
Shen Zhi interrupted him warily: “Wait. There are still three days until the Spring Terrace Chess Assembly starts. Don’t tell me you’re planning to teach me to the level of a National Chess Master to compete? That’s way too fast-track, even for cramming.”
Wen Zhuo frowned, looking at him incredulously: “Even though you have taken me as your teacher, I do not have such high expectations for your talent.”
Shen Zhi: “…” Dude was once first in the province in the exams, you know.
Wen Zhuo raised his hand and tapped the chessboard, a brilliant calculation hidden in the corner of his eyes: “I only need you to memorize, move for move, the three game patterns I will teach you, before the final round.”
“Three game patterns?”
Just as Shen Zhi was wondering, suddenly a golden gong crashed with a “bang,” shaking the tender willows by the street into a flurry.
A path opened up on Chess View Street. A man in a stone-gray silk jacket, with a golden gong hanging from his waist, walked along and said: “The Nanping chess players have entered the capital to participate in the Great Qian Spring Terrace Chess Assembly! This time, they will definitely take the top three, teaching the Great Qian chess masters to know that beyond heaven there is heaven, beyond men there are men!”
Such arrogant words naturally caused discontent among the East Tower chess players. A few, hot with anger, were about to charge forward to argue. But the servant pulled out a string of bright red firecrackers, lit the fuse with a striker, and instantly there was a crackling and popping, drowning out the curses of the Great Qian people in the festive noise.
Hearing the firecracker sound reminiscent of New Year’s Eve, a flash of the bloodstained execution rack on the Imperial Palace Long Street appeared before Wen Zhuo’s eyes. Then, a bone-deep pain surged up along with the noise, clinging to him densely.
The color drained from his face. The chess piece fell from his hand with a “thud,” rolled across the black-and-white intersecting paths of the board.
“What’s wrong with you?” Shen Zhi, quick of eye and hand, suddenly grabbed his shoulder. Beneath his palm, Wen Zhuo’s body was trembling slightly.