Chapter 33#

Pei Dan had been waiting in the Hall of the Inclusion of Virtue for a short while when, as expected, the imperial edict arrived — summoning him and the palace attendants present to the Hall of the Inclusive Palace for an audience.#

The night had already passed its halfway point. They hurried there with all speed. The Emperor was clearly in an atrocious temper — he had been on the verge of retiring to bed when Chen Qiu had pulled this stunt. Bloodshed on New Year’s Day was an ominous sign of the gravest kind. The officials from the Directorate of Astronomy had likely already reported the matter; they stood off to the side clutching their divination boards, trembling from head to foot. Before Pei Dan and the others could even bow, the Emperor erupted in fury: “Now I cannot control them either? My own brother becomes a laughingstock for all of them?!”

The great hall sank into a leaden hush. The Emperor, raging like a storm, first ordered that the news be sealed off and everyone involved detained. Chen Qiu would be thrown into the inner prison; the Inner Palace Attendant would be severely punished. Several of the tribute envoys who had been watching the spectacle would also be brought to charges — the heads of the Three Departments were to convene jointly with the Ministry of Justice, the Censorate, and the Court of Judicature to conduct a full inquiry.

When everyone else had been dismissed, a pair of black brocade court boots came to a stop before Pei Dan’s eyes. The Emperor’s voice was ice-cold: “Just now I gave Chancellor Pei the courtesy of not spelling it out, but Chancellor Pei surely understands the matter very well in his heart.”

Pei Dan pressed both hands flat against the ground and kowtowed heavily. “Your subject knows his guilt.”

“Since you and he have already divorced, to continue clinging to each other like severed lotus roots serves no one.” The Emperor stared at him, speaking slowly. “Do you know how much Fengbing hates you? Tonight you’ve made him a laughingstock before the entire world.”

Pei Dan said nothing. The magnificent, frigid bricks pressed against his forehead, numbing him.

The Emperor was silent for a long time, then suddenly smiled. “I truly do not understand — have I not been good enough to you, Pei Yunwang? You hold the late Emperor’s sealed mandate, you command the winds and call the rains, and I have let you have your way with all of it. It is only one Li Fengbing — you cannot have him, but was it not I who held a knife to your throats and forced you to divorce? The sins you committed yourself, one by one, piece by piece — how can you lay the blame on my head?”

The hall doors stood open, but the lowered curtains hung like layer upon layer of sealed gates, blocking out all the wind and snow rushing in. Yet the flame on the shark-oil lamp flickered, and deep in the Emperor’s eyes burned a profound resentment — all of it driven into Pei Dan’s spine, which could not straighten.

Pei Dan’s voice seemed to rise from underground. “…It was I who divorced him of my own accord. I dare not blame anyone.”

The Emperor raised a hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking thoroughly exhausted. Blue shadows of sleeplessness lay beneath his eyes. “I know it has been difficult for you. After the New Year, I will have General Pei Zheng’s memorial plaque moved into the Tower of Lingyan so that he may receive royal offerings for generations to come. Back then, at all costs, you brought the Crown Prince down — was it not for this day?”

Pei Dan’s fingers dug in tight, gouging into the cracks of the blue bricks. He did not notice his nail cracking and breaking. The Son of Heaven’s words could not be refuted, nor was there any need to refute them. A thousand-pound stone seemed to weigh down upon his kneeling body, yet he still had to remain conscious beneath this burden. He raised himself slightly and kowtowed once more. Sweat dripped from the gaps in his hair crown, striking the ground with a clear, resonant clang.

“—Your subject thanks Your Majesty for this grace. The Pei clan of Hedong will bind grass and carry rings in return — there is no other way to repay such kindness.”

The Emperor let out a soft, derisive scoff. Words like binding grass and carrying rings — even if spoken to a ghost, the ghost wouldn’t believe them, yet between sovereign and subject, this kind of rhetoric had long since become habit.

“Those who accomplish great things are not held back by trifles. Back then, you divorced for the sake of revenge — I watched it all and found nothing blameworthy in it. I even admired you.” The Emperor’s tone was light, as if counseling him. “So how is it that today, you can no longer see the situation clearly?” The Emperor leaned down slightly, drawing close to Pei Dan, and lowered his voice: “The late Emperor is dead. Now — this is my empire—”

“Whooosh — whooosh —” A sudden howl of cold wind shrieked from outside, but could not move the heavy curtains — it only set them fluttering. Meng Chao’en reported carefully from without: “Your Majesty, the commoner Li Fengbing has come to offer his thanks.”

Pei Dan abruptly raised his head.

In that instant, the look he cast toward the Emperor was laced with vicious malice, like a blade drawn to reveal its edge. But the Emperor merely smiled with perfect composure and waved a sleeve with languid ease. “Come in quickly — it’s cold out there.”

Fengbing kept his eyes fixed on his nose and his nose fixed on his mind, kneeling down at a slight distance behind Pei Dan and performing the grand kowtow. Li Fengtao waved a hand, and Pei Dan took his leave of the Emperor.

The luxurious hem of his robe brushed past Fengbing. Fengbing did not stir. “This commoner thanks Your Majesty. Thanks to Your Majesty’s timely delivery of medicine, my servant Chunshi has already awakened.”

“I’m glad to hear he’s awake.” Li Fengtao smiled. “The world is full of thorns and pitfalls. For Fourth Brother to have such a loyal servant who protects his master — even I find it a comfort.”

Fengbing replied calmly: “I dare not presume. The two of us, master and servant — our lowly lives were never worth much. It is only by Heaven’s great fortune that all under heaven is unharmed. A little scratch is hardly worth mentioning.”

Li Fengtao narrowed his eyes slightly. A sudden, perverse whim of amusement rose in him. Softening his voice, he said: “Today you were wronged. That Envoy of Hezhong Prefecture — what is his background? He seems to know quite a lot about your past.”

Hearing that voice, Fengbing felt as though insects were crawling over his skin. But he had already experienced that sensation tonight, and so now it was not quite so unbearable. He answered frankly: “This commoner has no private grudge against Prefect Chen. Moreover, this commoner knows that no matter what happens, Prefect Chen’s crime means he is certain to die.”

Li Fengtao snorted. He hadn’t actually said he would let Chen Qiu die — that hot potato did not need to be resolved personally by the Emperor perched high above; but with the Three Departments convening jointly and the Three Courts convening for trial, Chen Qiu would most likely indeed die.

“Let me see,” Li Fengtao said, slowly turning the jade archer’s ring on his finger. “He hates you. He isn’t afraid of death.”

Fengbing gave a light laugh.

At this moment, Chen Qiu did not seem to occupy his thoughts at all. Instead, a cloud of earnest concern descended over his face: “One who is fearless of death is the most terrifying. New Year’s Day is the time when all things are renewed, and the Hall of the Inclusion of Virtue is the hub of all nations. The Envoy of Hezhong Prefecture knew that the Emperor is magnanimous, and that he himself stood backed by the stronghold of Hezhong — that is why he dared to be so recklessly fearless of death, to humiliate Laozhou.”

His words concealed many layers of meaning. Li Fengtao sat up straight, a flicker of surprise surfacing in his eyes. It gradually settled, though his gaze remained fixed on Fengbing.

Although he had always regarded the younger brother before him as a political adversary, Li Fengtao now realized that he had never once looked at him through the appraising eyes with which one studied a rival.

Fengbing’s complexion was very pale — but paleness taken to its extreme was equivalent to an absence of expression. The emotion in his words was utterly hollow, yet the logic was sound, and it truly gave Li Fengtao pause.

The people from the Directorate of Astronomy had already spent the better part of the afternoon explaining to him all the reasoning about how New Year’s Day was a matter of cosmic significance. The Hall of the Inclusion of Virtue was the principal hall of the Eastern Palace complex — it could not be allowed to remain stained with blood indefinitely. He had even considered having monks perform purification rites. All of this was already enough to give Li Fengtao a splitting headache; who would have thought Fengbing would drag Laozhou into it as well.

He raised it up — yet did not go on to complain. Fengbing simply lowered his brows with gentle equanimity, as if he truly worried for the fate of the realm.

In truth, it would have been best for these words not to come from Fengbing’s own lips. On the journey here with Meng Chao’en, through the biting wind and snow, Fengbing had silently considered many cleverer, more untraceable approaches — but he could not execute any of them, because he was alone. If he did not speak, no one would speak for him.

So he had to add one more point. Only this one point could extricate him completely — from the absurdity of that garment, from the old shadows of Pei Dan. He wanted everyone — no, he wanted the Emperor to know: tonight’s affair had absolutely nothing to do with his former marriage.

“This commoner, though a commoner now, is by blood still, however unworthy, Your Majesty’s younger brother. Today Prefect Chen humiliated this commoner — and the people of the world will inevitably wonder: is the Emperor truly so cold toward his own brothers? For this reason, this commoner feels aggrieved on Your Majesty’s behalf, because this commoner knows better than anyone that Your Majesty is benevolent and loving. This commoner carries that in his heart at all times, ever grateful.”

Li Fengtao finally laughed — a laugh laced with genuine shock.

Fengbing knew exactly what he was thinking of.

Five years ago, the Crown Prince of Youke had plotted rebellion and was surrounded by Pei Dan at the head of the Shence Army within the Shaoyuan Court. When the battle was at a stalemate, it was the Second Prince Li Fengtao who stepped forth from the Residence of Ten Princes to resolve the crisis. The Crown Prince was shot dead on the spot, amid the mass of troops.

The world said the Second Prince was heroic and magnificent — a sage ruler sent by the mandate of Heaven.

But how sage and wise was Shun? And how savage and stubborn was Xiang? Yet even Shun would not have killed Xiang.

Li Fengtao’s laughter was as dry and hollow as a candle flame guttering in its final moments. Then it was abruptly cut off, and he spoke in a heavy, leaden voice: “Why don’t you save these words and say them to Pei Dan? I have already ordered the heads of the Three Departments to investigate this matter.”

Fengbing smiled lightly. “This commoner would never dare interfere with the judiciary. I merely feared that Your Majesty might misunderstand my humble sincerity. Husband and wife may divorce — but brothers are forever.”

With that, Li Fengtao was finally satisfied. He had originally intended to keep Fengbing in Chang’an, and if the opportunity arose, even clearing his name would not be out of the question. Having settled on this, he could once again don that mask of magnanimity and loving kindness, reaching out to help Fengbing up. “Good, good — Second Brother will listen to you.” It was almost as though Fengbing were a whining, coddled child.

A minor verbal advantage — Fengbing let him have it. Li Fengtao then ordered Meng Chao’en to present a box of jewels and jade as a reward. Fengbing accepted it, his courtesy impeccable, his expression calm and mild. “Now that Chunshi has awakened, this commoner dares not further disturb Your Majesty’s rest. I will take him back to the residence at once.”

Li Fengtao watched this youngest brother of his and found him even harder to understand than Pei Dan. He was perhaps like a reed — bent low in silence when pressed by the wind, but quickly standing back up, never truly breaking his own spine for the sake of anything or anyone.

And reeds are hollow inside.

The two exchanged stiff, formulaic pleasantries for some time before the Emperor finally allowed Fengbing to take his leave.

The moment he stepped out of the hall, heavy snow greeted him. There was no moon on this first night of the month. Fengbing walked headlong into this darkness of snow and was suddenly startled to realize how much sweat had poured down his back — it had glued his garments to his skin, and when the wind blew, he shivered with cold. Exhaustion settled in, as though those few sentences had just now drained every last drop of his mental energy. He had thought he would never have to tangle with such scheming and verbal sparring again for the rest of his life.

Meng Chao’en saw Fengbing as far as the vicinity of the Hall of the Inclusion of Virtue. Fengbing would not let him escort him any farther under any circumstances. He bowed to Meng Chao’en amid the wind and snow, and Meng Chao’en, wearing a smile, took his leave. Fengbing tucked the box of jewels into his sleeve, then gathered both hands into his robes. Goose-feather snowflakes struck his face; he could feel them melting very slowly. Ice-cold meltwater crept into his collar, seeped through to his shoulders, and gradually froze his blood.

He reached the base of the steps behind the Hall of the Inclusion of Virtue. Just as he was about to step forward, a figure behind the stone lion at the side of the staircase suddenly moved, shaking off a full coat of snow. —And then the person surged forward with urgent haste, grabbing Fengbing roughly and pulling him into the shadows beneath the steps, before releasing him almost at once.

Pei Dan seemed to have involuntarily drawn one great, shuddering breath — ice and snow rushed into his throat all at once, cold and stinging. He looked up at Fengbing, but Fengbing had taken a step back.

That step, utterly unguarded, fell squarely into Pei Dan’s eyes and dimmed his gaze for an instant.

Fengbing drew his robes closer around himself. Slowly, with some hesitation but with every effort to be friendly, he offered a quiet greeting: “Chancellor Pei — may the New Year bring you joy.”

He even managed a small smile.

Rest day tomorrow, Friday~