Chapter 1#

Sleeves of Snow First Unfurled#

The sky had not yet fully brightened; the snow had just ceased. Along the long street, the lonely sound of sweeping snow — shh, shh — like it could bury even Fengbing’s carriage wheels. He had arrived at an inopportune moment, and only the City Gate Commandant had come personally to welcome him. He leaned on the carriage rail and gazed out. Chang’an’s streets remained as steady and composed as ever, stretching from beneath his eyes all the way up to the grand Taiji Palace, then climbing beyond it into the pale, boundless heavens.

The one hundred and eight wards lay before him like the pieces on a game of Go. Once, he had been a black or white stone hurled into the board. But now he was no longer that.

Now he was merely a commoner of the mountains and marshes.

This trip had been a relief to him. Banished to the south for over five years, the vast sky and open land had gradually allowed him to let go of the affairs of five years past. He felt Chang’an was nothing more than so much, and that fame and fortune were beside pursuits — better to read some Buddhist sutras and roam the mountains and waters.

The City Gate Commandant led him to his lodging, a secluded courtyard carved out separately. The most delightful thing was that a stream ran through all the rooms, gurgling ceaselessly by his feet — clear, though strewn with drifting ice and accumulated snow, and a few withered leaves still floating on its surface. He was somewhat surprised by this treatment, but the City Gate Commandant promptly explained that he would occupy only one room within this courtyard.

Having a place to live was good enough. In the past, he had lived in the Residences of Ten Princes in Xingning Ward for nearly ten years, where the houses were low and shabby, one eave dimming into the next. The neighbor on the east beat his children, the neighbor on the west rattled the bed boards, and he could hear every bit of it. This place was actually quieter.

The furnishings in the room were sparse. The servant Chunshi set down the bundles and immediately began tidying and sweeping. Fengbing came to help, and Chunshi glared at him, bristling. “You’ve already entered the city of Chang’an! Remember your station!”

Fengbing smiled lightly and stepped outside to avoid causing disturbance. Chunshi had always believed in his innocence. When the imperial edict arrived in August, instructing him to return to the capital during the New Year gathering to resume the fraternal bond between brothers, Chunshi had taken it for granted that the new emperor meant to clear his lord’s name. This trip to Chang’an might mean no need to return to Laozhou at all. From that moment on, Chunshi seemed to have recovered his former identity once more — in the Residences of Ten Princes, at the side of the Fourth Prince Li Fengbing, among the noble bloodline of the imperial house, he had been the most perceptive of servants. For this moment, he had been rehearsing for a long time.

After reading for a while, Fengbing returned to his room for a nap. Not long after, the courtyard came alive. Several local tribute envoys arrived one after another, boxes and cases of tribute goods piling up in the central courtyard. The others also came over warmly to greet him. They hailed from Jiannan Circuit and Hezhong Prefecture, and upon learning he was from Lingnan, were somewhat shocked. “All the way from Laozhou? Such a swift journey?”

Fengbing answered mildly, “We received the edict in August and set out at once. We dared not delay.”

The Hezhong envoy looked him up and down, growing more and more suspicious with each glance. “You are… you are the Fourth—”

“I am the commoner Li Fengbing.” He bowed slightly in reply.

The Jiannan envoy also finally caught on. “Truly it is! Why did you travel alone and not come together with the Prefect of Laozhou?”

“It’s embarrassing to say,” Fengbing smiled. “We were separated along the way… Presumably, if his pace is not slow, he should arrive soon as well.”

He rarely smiled. Nearly thirty, he had been born with a gentle and mild countenance — brows low and serene, and in his clear, limpid eyes there always seemed to shimmer a melancholy, watery light. But when he did smile, it was as though spring ice were about to thaw, and the last bit of snow clinging to the branches danced away in the wind, warm and radiant, as though he had poured out his heart and soul to conjure an illusionary dream.

Several of the envoys were struck dumb.

They recalled that the Fourth Prince Li Fengbing, before falling from grace, had been an invalid, spending his days reclusively within the Residences of Ten Princes, indifferent to worldly affairs. The late emperor had four sons, and over a thousand members of the imperial clan. He had withdrawn early from the struggle for power due to illness — by no means outstanding, nor favored by the emperor. That such a person had actually followed the late Crown Prince of Youke in committing the great crime of treason — truly, one must not judge by appearances.

The Hezhong envoy, who frequently traveled to the capital, was particularly quick-witted, and now regarded Fengbing with a novel kind of gaze. His skin was very fair, his waist remarkably slender — truly like a man long ill, a willow swaying in the wind — yet his stature was tall. When his eyes swept downward, it was as though a deity were surveying the mortal dust, effortlessly making whoever looked upon him feel a shade shorter.

He would have said a few more words, but the imperial edict arrived. The tribute envoys who had already been staying in their rooms all hurried out at once, kneeling in a black mass across the courtyard.

Most of the local dispatch officials had never seen eunuchs from the Inner Court, but Fengbing recognized this one — formerly a junior apprentice under the Xuanhui Eunuch. His surname was Yuan, and today he wore the seal cord of the Vice Xuanhui Eunuch, showing that he had been promoted. Eunuch Yuan cleared his throat and read the edict: those tribute envoys newly arrived today were to proceed to the Department of State Affairs to receive their imperial commissions.

The tribute envoys who had long since taken up residence let out a collective sigh of relief. Those newly arrived today were only Fengbing and the two envoys from Hezhong and Jiannan, but Fengbing was unsure whether he counted among them. Yet Eunuch Yuan deliberately bowed to him. “Master Li?” His eyes crinkled into a smile.

Fengbing was stunned.

So his form of address had already been settled. Master Li.

“Master Li has entered the capital on imperial orders; he too should proceed to the Ministry of Rites to receive his commission,” Eunuch Yuan said with his hands clasped in his sleeves, smiling. “Please go together with the two circuit envoys.”

With the majestic backdrop of Taiji Palace to the north, the walls and gates of the Department of State Affairs also displayed the solemn dignity of one backed by the Mandate of Heaven. The gate guards looked at their calling cards and let them pass, but no one guided them. As the two envoys spun around in confusion among the bureau offices of varying heights, Fengbing walked with unerring accuracy toward the main hall where the Minister of Rites held his court.

The two behind him exchanged glances. They suddenly remembered.

The Fourth Prince Li Fengbing’s former husband, Pei Dan, was none other than the current Minister of Rites and Grand Councilor of the Zhongshu and Menxia Departments.

Even fishermen beyond the sea had heard of the most jaw-dropping episode of the great treason case from five years past. Pei Dan, Vice Director of the Palace Library, had presented a petition to the late emperor half a month before the case broke, declaring his intention to divorce the Fourth Prince — to sever ties and never meet again.

In name a mutual divorce; in fact, a cast-off.

Half a month after the divorce, the Crown Prince’s treason was exposed. The Fourth Prince, having been affiliated with the Crown Prince’s faction, was merely imprisoned, as it was determined he had not committed any wrongful acts. During the New Year general amnesty, the late emperor, in his benevolence, stripped the Fourth Prince of his rank and made him a commoner, sparing his life but exiling him to the remote southern prefecture of Laozhou.

As for Pei Dan, through this very case, he had instead clung tightly to the new Crown Prince’s favor, and from that point soared upward. He left the desolate Palace Library for the Three Departments, passing through trials in the Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of Works until he reached Minister of Rites. When the new emperor ascended the throne, he carried the high title of Grand Councilor into the ranks of the highest chancellors, becoming the youngest prime minister of the entire dynasty.

The common people’s sentiments about this couple’s divorce were generally divided into two camps:

One camp said: Married three years, and when disaster struck he abandoned her without a second thought. For his own prospects and survival, Pei Dan could be so cruel and heartless — that man’s heart is surely black as pitch!

The other camp said: What else did you want him to do? He was a dazzling top scholar, yet he had married an invalid who was accomplished at neither the civil nor the military arts — utterly unworthy of Pei’s talent. And she had even attached herself to the Crown Prince in treason. Better to part early!

The two camps argued back and forth, and in the end the peacemakers would always say: Married birds in the same forest, when great disaster strikes each flies its own way — no one is to blame. Have some tea, have some tea.

—But fortunately, Pei Dan did not come in person today.

Fengbing walked into the central courtyard, where the Rites Department Registrar came to greet them. As a matter of routine, the Registrar read aloud the imperial commission — the great Dao of benevolent comfort for their long journey and weary travels, advising them to rest and recover; if any expenses were lacking, they were to apply to the Division of Guests within the Ministry of Rites; and further, with special instruction, they were to enjoy their leisure in the capital and not cause trouble, and upon returning to their local posts, were not to speak recklessly of matters. Fengbing listened carefully with a slight bow, though his eyes had long since been fixed on the painted dougong brackets behind the Registrar.

Beneath those brackets, recessed within, was a solemn hall displaying portraits of distinguished ministers through the ages, a sprig of wintersweet placed in a white porcelain vase below the portraits. On either side of the hall — he knew — were the daily offices where the Minister of Rites and Vice Ministers attended to their duties. However, with Pei Dan now bearing the title of Grand Councilor, he would ordinarily attend deliberations in the Policy Hall of the Secretariat, and likely rarely came here.

His thoughts began to drift, until Hezhong envoy Chen Qiu called to him.

“Master Li? Master Li!”

Fengbing abruptly pulled his gaze back. In that instant, he looked like a startled rabbit, the whites of his eyes still faintly tinged with red as he looked toward Chen Qiu.

Chen Qiu grinned so wide his face split open. “Master Li, it’s been so long since you last visited Chang’an — would you like to go and see the sights of the city together?”