Chapter 13#
Horses#
Three months later, a fine snow fell softly.
Yuchi Liang had just finished his watch rotation, changed out of his armor, and hurried to the hall front to await an audience. It was not yet the hour of Mao; the sky was pale and hazy, and all around was still cloaked in a dim grey mist. His military boots struck the ground, and from far off he could already hear Xu Daochun’s laughter.
“General Yuchi has arrived as well,” Xu Daochun stepped aside. “Look who has come today.”
Yuchi Liang had received word days ago, yet he put on an expression of delight. He hurried forward and bowed: “This subject pays his respects to His Highness, the Prince of Fucheng!”
Prince of Fucheng Lu Guanjie was dressed in immaculate ceremonial robes. He was forty-nine this year, and although he had spent years commanding troops in the field, there was not a trace of martial roughness about him. The moment he saw Yuchi Liang, he smiled: “We are old acquaintances—so why the formalities? Rise quickly. It has been too long since I last saw you.”
Yuchi Liang stood and said respectfully: “The war in the east presses hard. Your Highness returning to the capital this time must mean good news.”
“My word, Your Highness, listen to him,” Xu Daochun tapped Yuchi Liang lightly with his whisk. “Now here is a truly clever man. Before you even open your mouth, he has already guessed seven or eight parts of the matter. As for me—humble servant that I am—I never envy immortals, but I do envy our General Yuchi here. He has a heart of polished jade!”
Yuchi Liang had been in good spirits lately. Hearing Xu Daochun play the fool, he laughed: “Attendant Xu teases your humble servant again. What jade heart could a rough soldier like me possess? It is merely that I noticed the ministers of the Six Ministries going in and out of court these past few days, so I figured the submission of the Xiangling Plains could not have gone smoothly, and the northern war must be pressing. Since Your Highness stands here before me, there must surely be a victory report.”
“A victory report is too grand a term. The eastern tribes have been raiding and causing trouble—I merely took advantage of winter’s momentum to return to the capital for an audience.” Lu Guanjie never claimed credit on the battlefield; his tone was mild and courteous. “My return this time is chiefly to report the military situation to the Sovereign in person.”
Xu Daochun said: “This year has been one of great fortune. Our Zhonggu has not only seen the domestic wars cease, but has also gained a Marquis of Fuxin. In my humble opinion, with the Marquis of Fuxin leading by example and showing his loyalty, those rebel chieftains will not be able to run amok for much longer.”
“Speaking of the Marquis of Fuxin,” Lu Guanjie turned his gaze to Yuchi Liang again, “I heard from Mingshi when he returned that he was reckless and muddle-headed, and nearly disrupted your official duties in that City of Ayoushould.”
Yuchi Liang had been waiting for Lu Guanjie to bring this up. He smiled at once: “That Old Jin for you! When he was still in the old capital, I told him—we are all brothers taking on assignments together, there is no such thing as disrupting anything. As long as the job gets done and done properly, that is everyone pulling together. But he—he has a stubborn streak, always feeling guilty about everything. When he left, he was still huffing and puffing, angry at himself the whole time. Now that Your Highness has returned, you really must help me talk some sense into him.”
He said nothing about what Jin Mingshi had actually done, yet every word implicitly confirmed that Jin Mingshi had indeed done something. After this little speech, Jin Mingshi was left with no credit at all, and it came across as Yuchi Liang carrying the weight on both sides.
Xu Daochun stood before them with a faint smile, saying nothing.
Lu Guanjie listened attentively throughout, then finally nodded: “Mingshi came up from my own ranks and made a name for himself young. Though he is something of a veteran now, his temper is still as foul as ever. Partnering with him on the road, you are bound to take losses—and yet you are the only one still willing to put up with him. But do not worry: the moment he returned, I had him flogged with fifty military canes. That is why he did not accompany me on this trip—he is still flat on his back in bed.”
Yuchi Liang’s eyelid twitched suddenly.
Jin Mingshi was one of Lu Guanjie’s top generals. Even if the incident in the City of Ayoushould were blown up to the heavens, it would not warrant fifty military canes. Yuchi Liang vaguely sensed something ominous in this, but Lu Guanjie’s expression betrayed nothing, and he could not fathom the Prince of Fucheng’s intention.
Just as he was about to speak, a palace servant came to announce their arrival. The three men composed their expressions, removed their shoes according to rank, and entered the hall.
Inside the hall stood several bronze candle-tree candelabra. The floor was spotless and gleaming, reflecting the massive coiled black dragon sculpture above. On one side of the screen stood freshly offered plum blossoms. Mi Linan lounged on the throne, listening to the Left Deputy Director of the Department of State Affairs.
“…The census and inspection records contain errors, and the military horse allocation is insufficient. If we are to deploy troops after the new year, I fear we must first wait for this year’s revenue assessments to conclude.” Du Wei, the Left Deputy Director, paused briefly before continuing. “At present, fiscal commissioners from all regions are converging on Senluo, and the selection of gentlemen-officials also requires the Sovereign’s personal review.”
“You—every year you grow bolder, yet your nerve shrinks.” Mi Linan fidgeted with his sleeve. “You come here at the crack of dawn, drone on and on, when all you really want to say is that in these troubled times, it is unwise to launch major campaigns against the eastern tribes.”
Du Wei was only a few years younger than Mi Linan. He kept a fine beard, and hearing this, he actually broke into a smile: “Whatever this old minister plans, none of it escapes the Sovereign’s eyes.”
“Other people keep their thoughts behind their bellies, but you—I know your heart best. How could I not understand what you have said? War devours money and grain. If I had not leveraged Miaoshang’s face to seek peace with that one back then, our present situation would likely be several times worse.” Mi Linan was casual in his manner. Even as he spoke, he waved his hand to waive the formalities of the three men who had just entered. “The cavalry census having problems is not your fault—it is the people below being lazy. Well, this is perfect timing. The person most familiar with cavalry has just arrived. Compare your accounts with him, and if anything does not add up, settle it right here.”
“The person most familiar with cavalry,” of course, referred to Lu Guanjie.
The several men exchanged greetings. Mi Linan then said: “Guanjie rode through the night—hard journey. Xu Daochun, bring the Prince of Fucheng his seat.”
Xu Daochun complied, but Lu Guanjie declined: “The Sovereign toils from dawn to dusk, governing diligently day and night. This subject merely rode a horse to seek an audience—hardly as delicate as all that.”
“I said sit, so sit.” Mi Linan leaned against his armrest. “You are a great general guarding the frontier, and also the Governor of Haozhou, holding the imperial tally and commanding your subordinates. How many days of rest do you get in a whole year? Now that you are home, am I going to keep working you to the bone? Sit.”
Lu Guanjie sat. By rights, Xu Daochun should have served the warm kumiss, but at this moment he stood to the side looking somewhat dazed.
“Wuye,” Mi Linan said. “Serve the Prince of Fucheng his kumiss.”
Yuchi Liang’s gaze shifted, and he caught sight of Mi Jin, who had been waiting quietly by the plum blossoms. His eyelid twitched again—he had not expected to see the Marquis of Fuxin again so soon.
Mi Jin wore the same tall hat as before, and a plain dark robe. The dragon motif was gone from his collar and cuffs, and only the dragon-headed leather pouch at his waist remained. Ever since the Marquis of Fuxin was stripped of his title, he had fallen ill. Word was he had spent these past few months in the Changdu Palace—once Mi Luo’s residence.
Mi Jin rose, took the warm kumiss from a palace servant, and presented it to Lu Guanjie on his desk. Lu Guanjie looked at him with an expression that seemed tinged with sympathy.
“You two have not met. Might as well meet now.” Mi Linan glanced at Mi Jin, then let the subject drop, turning instead to Du Wei. “Yingrong, did you not want to compare accounts? Go ahead and tell the Prince of Fucheng.”
Du Wei said: “Since Your Highness has returned, this old minister will speak plainly. This year, with one frontier town and two prefectures, plus several commanderies of the Xiangling Plains submitting to us, horses are a major concern. But in the census the Bureau of Military Affairs submitted a few days ago, the horse count was wrong. On inspection, eight hundred and five horses were missing.”
Yuchi Liang’s gaze snapped to Mi Jin. Mi Jin appeared unmoved, simply standing by the plum blossoms and listening.
“I know about that batch of horses.” Lu Guanjie spoke slowly. “Those eight hundred-odd horses were originally seized in the City of Ayoushould. But Jin Mingshi, whom I sent to assist General Yuchi, is a careless man. He mistakenly believed that this batch, like ordinary spoils of war, was to be awarded to our combat cavalry. So he took four hundred of them back to his unit on his own initiative.”
At this point, he rose and bowed.
“This subject’s return to the capital is not only to report the military situation to the Sovereign, but also to return those four hundred horses. The horses and their corresponding armor are currently outside the city walls, awaiting the Sovereign’s inspectors. This subject failed in disciplining his subordinate and has already had Jin Mingshi beaten with fifty military canes.”
Yuchi Liang’s heart hammered wildly. He counted and recounted, confirming that the warhorses from the City of Ayoushould had never numbered eight hundred and five! At the time, he and Jin Mingshi had struggled over the spoils, and Yuchi Liang had deliberately let Jin Mingshi take the lion’s share, precisely to guard against a day like this. What ended up in his own hands had clearly been only a hundred and fifty!
One hundred and fifty plus four hundred—how had that become eight hundred and five?
“Taking liberties without authorization is indeed wrong, but at least he did it for the war effort, not to line his own pockets. Since your unit is short on horses, I will award you these four hundred as well. But remember: next time, you must report the exact numbers to Yingrong first. Otherwise, he, a Left Deputy Director, should not have to lose sleep over this kind of thing.” Mi Linan propped himself on one arm. “Very well, these four hundred horses are settled. What about the rest?”
Lu Guanjie hesitated, then answered carefully: “The rest… should be under General Yuchi’s charge.”
Yuchi Liang’s mind raced. He dared not look at anyone present and immediately dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the ground: “Your subject is base and short-sighted—a man without proper measure—and would never dare covet the Sovereign’s horses. In the City of Ayoushould, there were originally only five hundred and fifty horses. Now, subtracting the four hundred the Prince of Fucheng has brought back, there remain one hundred and fifty in this subject’s possession…”
“Oh—so you took them.” Mi Linan’s tone shifted. “General Yuchi, you have quite the nerve. To all of us here, are we nothing but fools in your eyes?”
Despite the cold in the hall, sweat instantly broke across Yuchi Liang’s brow. His throat was parched; he swallowed several times before managing: “This subject… this subject…”
“What ‘subject’? When the horses of Prince Ming arrived in Senluo, they all had to go through your pockets first. I dare say you are more powerful than I am.” Mi Linan stared at Yuchi Liang, the frost in his deep eyes cutting to the bone. “At that time, the Crown Prince’s title had not been revoked yet, had it?”
Yuchi Liang said in terror: “The times were unstable, and bandits roamed the city freely. The Crown Prince—the Crown Prince—His Lordship had just suffered a tremendous upheaval and was frightened by assassins—”
“He was frightened by assassins, so you felt free to take his horses.” Mi Linan’s voice was glacial. He leaned forward, fixing Yuchi Liang with a burning stare. “What if I get frightened by assassins—what will you do then?”
Yuchi Liang said: “If assassins appear, this subject will fight them to the death and would never allow the Sovereign—”
Mi Linan snatched the candelabra from the desk and hurled it at Yuchi Liang. Fire spilled across the floor. Yuchi Liang did not dare move; the palace servants around them threw themselves prostrate. Xu Daochun said in alarm: “Sovereign, please calm your anger—”
“You tell me to calm my anger? You dare tell me to calm my anger!” The King of Slaughter was like a maddened leopard. “He dared to seize Xinghuan’s horses! Scum—river-dog! Xinghuan had only been dead three days! Three days, and you already dared to defy your superior—you Eastern Kun slave!”
This was the most contemptuous epithet for a Kun’tu person. Yuchi Liang squeezed his eyes shut and kowtowed repeatedly: “This guilty subject would not dare—this guilty subject would not dare!”
Whether real or feigned, he suddenly choked with sobs.
“This guilty subject was born an Eastern Kun slave, uncivilized and untaught. It was Prince Ming—Prince Ming who captured me and brought me back to the capital. More than twenty years, Sovereign! This guilty subject has never dared forget Prince Ming’s teachings for a single moment. A man of his celestial bearing—you could search all of the Eastern Plains for a hundred years and never find a second! So from the moment I entered the City of Ayoushould, my heart was as though cut by a knife…”
He buried his head and wept, shoulders heaving.
“But how could such an Eastern Kun slave as I dare face Prince Ming’s passing? Sovereign, let alone the horses—even a single blade of grass in the City of Ayoushould, I would not dare to look at or touch too closely…”
Yuchi Liang wept with convincing sincerity. Mi Linan’s figure seemed to freeze. He gazed out beyond the hall, and his murderous intent subsided in an instant. This was a captured general his son had brought back—someone who had walked on eggshells in the palace for all these years. He must be growing old, his rage so difficult to control.
After a long moment, Mi Linan’s interest waned. He waved his hand, signaling Yuchi Liang to get out: “…I give you three days to return the remaining horses to the Cavalry Bureau in full. If a single one is missing, I will use you in its place. I am tired—you are all dismissed.”
They withdrew quietly. The great hall was empty. Mi Linan sat alone on his throne, listening to the soft fall of fine snow outside.
Yuchi Liang felt as though he had been fished out of water. Xu Daochun followed behind him, covering his mouth, whispering with concern: “The general’s jade heart is still useful, is it not? A crisis, and in the blink of an eye, it is dissolved into nothing.”
Yuchi Liang understood everything now. So that was why Xu Daochun had deliberately brought up the Marquis of Fuxin outside the hall—he had thought the eunuch was playing tricks on him, but in fact it had been a warning.
That Mi Jin was in the hall today—Xu Daochun must have known from the start. What restraint the man showed, never leaking a single word!
“What a perfectly ordinary…” Yuchi Liang watched the Prince of Fucheng walk far off before stopping. He turned back to ask Xu Daochun, “How did the Sovereign suddenly think of Mi Luo again—”
His voice cut off. Xu Daochun had stopped two paces away. Standing behind Yuchi Liang now was Mi Jin.
Mi Jin was tall and imposing, and with that towering hat on, he stood there with an almost oppressive presence. But the Marquis of Fuxin was not severe—he smiled and raised a hand, sweeping away the errant snowflakes: “Today is the anniversary of my father’s first fit. The Sovereign must have remembered it last night, which is why he put you through that ordeals, General.”
Yuchi Liang forced a smile: “A Sovereign’s grief for his son is perfectly natural. We, as his subjects, should be understanding. If the Sovereign had scolded me a few more times today, so long as it eased his mind, I would have accepted it willingly.”
“Loyalty,” Mi Jin murmured, as if moved. “Words that good only sound convincing when spoken by you, General. But how exactly do you intend to make up those four hundred and five horses?”
So it was this bastard pulling strings behind the scenes!
“Your Lordship, we entered the capital together—must you speak in riddles? There was never any eight hundred and five. In the Eastern Palace’s stables, there were five hundred and fifty horses in total, were there not? I truly do not understand—” Yuchi Liang asked in earnest. “How could three months turn that into so many?”
Mi Jin said lazily: “You really do not understand?”
Yuchi Liang answered honestly: “I truly do not.”
“When you get back, take another look at those horses,” Mi Jin said, resting a hand halfway on Yuchi Liang’s shoulder in a gesture that was half pat, half embrace. “The secret lies with them. I have been busy these past few months and forgot to remind you—those are all fine horses. Fine horses are precious these days. If you were to accidentally sell a few, do not forget to compensate the Sovereign for those as well when the time comes.”
Yuchi Liang was seething with rage. He had not dared to take all of those horses—he had kept about a hundred tied up in the Imperial Guard. Who did not know fine horses were worth a fortune these days? The few hundred missing horses were enough to ruin him!
“Very well,” Yuchi Liang smiled on the surface. “I was blind before, and offended Your Lordship. This lesson was well worth it! Though I suppose I have the gods to thank—today, my head stayed on my shoulders. Otherwise, how could I have the chance to make amends? Your Lordship, killing those Eastern Palace Guard officers was never my intention. You have seen for yourself: the Sovereign’s word is law. I could only obey orders.”
When he finished, he actually bowed to Mi Jin, as if to apologize.
“No need—that is long past.” Mi Jin did not stop him, merely saying, “Did you not leave me Longshan? I should be thanking you. I do not think an apology is necessary. Why not hand over the two Senluo demons who were wearing my tally tag instead?”
“Your Lordship, you jest,” Yuchi Liang said, studying Mi Jin’s expression with some surprise. “Since those two carried Eastern Palace tallies, naturally they were killed along with the Eastern Palace Guard officers.”
Snowflakes settled on Mi Jin’s chest. He looked at Yuchi Liang and smiled. The face was truly handsome, and the smile made Yuchi Liang’s skin crawl—because it was like Mi Luo’s. Yuchi Liang had once been terrified of Mi Luo, and now seeing Mi Jin’s rare moment of ease sent a chill down his spine.
“As for that little Kong dog, you can keep him,” Mi Jin’s tone was rakish, though a trace of cold cruelty flickered at the corner of his eyes and brow. “But hand Shaque over to me.”