Chapter 29#

Out of the Cage#

Mi Jin spent several days “recovering from his injuries” in Changdu Palace. By the time he came out, it was the eve of Mi Linan’s reception of the annual accounts.

The annual accounting was an essential yearly task; it began after the autumn harvest. County magistrates everywhere first gathered the situation and copied out the county account ledgers. The county ledgers had to clearly record this year’s taxes and corvée, household registration, cultivated land, and details of criminal justice and other administrative affairs, then submit them to the commandery governor.

The commandery governor checked and verified the county ledgers; after confirming there were no errors, he sent them on to the provincial office and submitted them to the inspector. The inspector mobilized office officials to audit and organize the county ledgers, and finally handed the completed provincial ledger to the annual-report officer, who went to the old capital to present it to the Department of State Affairs[1].

The Department of State Affairs would verify the contents of the ledgers and, based on them, evaluate the performance of each locality. Those with the best evaluations were graded “superior,” while the worst were graded “inferior.” Because the annual accounting determined rewards, punishments, dismissals, and promotions for officials everywhere, the annual-report officers sent each year to make reports were all young talents from the commanderies and provinces. The outstanding among them all had the chance to remain in the capital and serve, so becoming an annual-report officer was also a route to compete for a gentleman-official post.

At the end of the annual accounting, Mi Linan would comment on the annual-report officers and local administration in Taiyuan Hall. This was the reception of accounts.

As soon as Mi Jin entered the palace, he saw Xu Daochun accompanying Du Wei out. He saluted Du Wei, and Du Wei hurriedly said, “It’s the Marquis! How are the Marquis’s injuries?”

“They’re only minor wounds; a few days lying down and they’re mostly better.” Mi Jin was always courteous to Du Wei. “That day was so dangerous, I never had time to ask after Lord Du. Are you unharmed, Lord Du?”

“Thanks to the Marquis’s concern, I took a carriage ahead and did not meet the assassins.” Du Wei looked ashamed. “It was the Marquis instead—you drew the assassins away alone, brave and decisive. When it comes to courage, we few cannot even see your back.”

“Lord Du is the sovereign’s pillar and support, and also Zhonggu’s great beam across the sea,” Mi Jin said with a smile. “How could crude business of force be allowed to trouble Lord Du’s own hands? It was most fitting for me.”

“This little man has long said that whoever can exchange a few words with our Marquis will find nothing left to be dissatisfied about.” Xu Daochun laid his whisk to one side. “Marquis, we’ve all been thinking of you these days. Don’t think Lord Du was busy—he asked after the Marquis several times even when he went to the sovereign.”

Mi Jin immediately bowed. “This boy has made Lord Du worry.”

Du Wei only smiled. “How could this be worth such a great courtesy from the Marquis? All I could do was ask after you. Now that I see the Marquis is well in every way, I’m truly glad. Well, Marquis, I still have a pile of documents waiting for me, so I won’t delay your audience with the sovereign.”

They exchanged salutes, and Du Wei went off on his own. Xu Daochun led Mi Jin toward Taiyuan Hall. “The sovereign will receive the accounts in a couple of days. Those annual-report officers are all crouched in the Department of State Affairs compound waiting to be called by name. Lord Du really is busy—he can’t even spare time to sleep.”

“I just heard outside that the censors sent to various places to supervise officials have all returned too.” Mi Jin spoke as he walked. “Is the old capital this lively every year?”

“Yes,” Xu Daochun said neither fast nor slow. “The annual accounting is the year-end priority. In those ledgers, one after another, are so many people’s fortunes and futures. The various ministries and bureaus dare not be careless; they’re all straining with effort.”

“So many people have come down from the provinces at once,” Mi Jin said. “Where are they all staying?”

“There are guest hostels in the city, and the Honglu places them all together. We can’t have them come to the old capital and all sleep on the streets.” Xu Daochun was meticulous and immediately caught on. “The Marquis wants to ask whether those guest hostels belong to our government or to outside merchants?”

Mi Jin nodded. “The post inns in the city are limited after all, and the government guest hostels are near the outskirts. Quite a few people will have to be lodged on Yumian, won’t they?”

“Oh, Marquis, you really are a well-fed man who doesn’t know the hunger of the starving.” Xu Daochun pretended to scold. “What kind of place is Yumian Avenue? A land of brocade and splendor, where every inch of earth costs gold. If we really lodged them all there, how much would it cost? Would we even get through this year?”

“A great merchant like Duke Jinxiu,” Mi Jin laughed instead, “would never take the court’s money.”

“He may be unwilling to take it, but we can’t really owe him either,” Xu Daochun said. “We’ve given up on Yumian Avenue; we’ll just borrow Duke Jinxiu’s old guest hostel near the post inn. The Minister of Revenue originally proposed settling with Duke Jinxiu at market price, but our sovereign was magnanimous and told Duke Jinxiu directly that he need not pay for next year’s horse-tribute passes, and also allowed him to sell wine within the capital region.”

Selling wine was small money; few common people could afford to drink wine daily, and the commercial tax to be gained from it was not much either. The various states would issue occasional wine bans, partly due to war and partly due to grain; among these, grain was the most crucial reason.

Yuan Bocheng’s wine had never been sellable within the capital region to begin with. Each year, half of what he brewed was used to supply the Mi clan proper, and half to keep up appearances for Yumian. So Mi Linan’s permission for him to sell wine next year could only count as a pretty phrase; what really mattered was the horse-tribute passes.

With these passes, merchants could go to border markets or frontier garrisons to buy horses, but each pass permitted only five horses through customs; beyond that they had to buy another. Otherwise they might well ruin themselves—such was the case.

Yuan Bocheng had five horse farms just in the outskirts of the old capital. Though they were not large, together they were a huge fortune. Every year he collected money from the post stations through these horses; the reason Lu Guanjie had befriended him was also that his horses were raised very well.

Now that Mi Linan was doing this, it was both opening a wide gate for Yuan Bocheng and encouraging him to keep raising horses—Mi Jin had not guessed wrong; this was preparing for a rainy day.

“A good thing—everyone is happy.” Mi Jin was almost at the hall entrance. He glanced outside the corridor and saw a group of soldiers. “Whose troops are those?”

“Those are—look, General Tian only returned to the capital last night. He didn’t even change out of his armor; he unbuckled his sword and came to the palace to await an audience.”

“Tian Ruping,” Mi Jin’s gaze sank slightly, then he smiled again. “So it’s him.”

They entered the hall. Mi Linan heard them come in but did not hurry to turn around. He only said, “This time, in recovering Yuanzhou, you won great merit. I ought to reward you, but I heard that you—what grievance did you have that you slaughtered his whole household like that?”

A man lay prostrate on the ground and replied, knocking his head: “Diao Qin was once a commandant of Zhonggu and was called ‘the foremost fierce bird of Yuanzhou.’ I, your subject, mindful of old ties and respecting him as an old general, repeatedly urged him before the attack to open the gates and surrender. But he was truly stubborn and insisted on fighting me to the death.”

“In times of danger, a minister’s integrity shows; in a chaotic age, loyalty is recognized[2]. His refusal to betray his wise king at this moment precisely shows that he was a loyal and righteous minister. Though you each served your own lord, for that loyalty alone you should not have killed his entire family.” Mi Linan turned his head and glanced sidelong at Tian Ruping. “Or do you have some private grudge against him that you needed to vent through this?”

“I killed Diao Qin only for state affairs, not out of private feeling,” Tian Ruping said, face still buried. “Those two children of his were the most hateful—one cursed us before the battle lines, the other incited the foolish commoners, making the people in the city panic. If I had not killed them, they would have rebelled.”

“You cut off their heads and had them circulated through the three armies,” Mi Linan turned around, “and you let soldiers burn, kill, and plunder in the city. Tell me, were these actions of yours really free of private feeling?”

He asked again and again because he already knew the truth. Unfortunately, Tian Ruping said, “I circulated their heads precisely to warn others by example! Xianglingyuan’s submission is the general trend; someone as stubborn and benighted as Diao Qin should have died long ago!”

“Stop bluffing here! Do you think I don’t know? You slaughtered Diao Qin’s entire household simply because you resent that he once followed Xinghuan and beat you.” Mi Linan simply threw a memorial before Tian Ruping. “You know shame—so what are you afraid of? Can’t you own up to what you did? Pick up this memorial and read it carefully. The Diao clan has long been renowned in Yuanzhou. By doing that, how much criticism from the gentry did you stir up? Now even Fan Shou of Ningzhou wants to impeach you!”

Tian Ruping picked up the memorial. He was just past forty, with a murderous air between his brows; he looked more like a military officer than Lu Guanjie. He said stubbornly, “This Fan Yannian is a mere scholar. He has nothing else to do all day but stare at us few who command troops. My elder brother has a good temper and never argues with him, yet he only pushes further. Sovereign, how would he know that if I had not done so, how could the soldiers and people of Yuanzhou have surrendered so quickly? As for those gentry, they are even more unreasonable—I cannot be bothered with them!”

“You’re spouting nonsense here again. Have you forgotten who guaranteed you in the first place? Wasn’t it that very Fan Shou?” Mi Linan was exasperated at his failure to meet expectations. “Yuanzhou used to be your territory. On this campaign, if you had killed even a few fewer people, I would not have given this place to anyone else! Now that you’ve let outsiders curse you like that, how am I supposed to reward you!”

Tian Ruping closed the memorial and did not dare make a sound, head hanging.

“Every time you win a heaven-sized merit, you have to stir up a heaven-sized disaster.” Mi Linan was still angry, and just then he saw Mi Jin. “People say nephews resemble their maternal uncles. You two are something else—uncle and nephew have come together!”

Tian Ruping turned his head and saw only a dark blue great robe, but the serpent-head belt pouch at that waist was more familiar to him than anything. His expression froze, and his gaze slowly rose until it struck a pair of deep, dark, fathomless eyes.

Third Brother.

Mi Luo had once put an arm around Tian Ruping’s shoulder and said with a laugh, “Later I’ll send you to guard Yuanzhou, and have Elder Brother train cavalry for us. When the time is right, we’ll go together and test ourselves against the Jinwu shock cavalry.”

Tian Ruping’s mouth opened and closed. “…Second Brother.”

“This is Wuye,” Mi Linan paused briefly, then still added, “and also Naga.”

Tian Ruping woke as if from a dream. He hurriedly withdrew his gaze. “…Naga has actually grown this big. The last time I heard news of him was when he was born.”

“This is a mischievous brat.” Mi Linan set official business aside and asked Mi Jin, “How are you? Can you eat?”

Mi Jin smiled. “Can a few stabs keep my tongue from working? I eat very well every day.”

Mi Linan stared at him for a while. “Turn around. Let me see.”

“The sovereign was worried about the Marquis and did not sleep well for several days. Those tonics and medicinal herbs were sent to Changdu Palace like water,” Xu Daochun said, covering his lips with his sleeve. “Now that he sees the Marquis, he is truly happy.”

“With him looking like this, what do I have to worry about?” Mi Linan narrowed his eyes slightly and spoke to Tian Ruping as if chatting. “You’ve just returned, so you probably don’t know. A few days ago I ran into a group of assassins outside. This boy was quite bold—he drew the assassins away alone. There were so many people then; I thought he would certainly die, but he killed every one of the assassins and came back.”

This was open censure and hidden praise. Everyone present that day knew the assassins had closely pursued Mi Jin and had been coming for Mi Jin in the first place. Mi Linan had flown into a rage then: first he called the gate officer to account, then dealt with Yuchi Liang and Lu Guanjie, and also dispatched cavalry from two armies to search for him—anyone with eyes knew that Marquis Fuxin had turned disaster into blessing this time and was about to be given important use.

That was how people’s hearts worked. Mi Jin turned back. The more isolated and helpless he was, the less Mi Linan could bear to see him wronged. He could be reprimanded or confined by Mi Linan, but he absolutely could not be forced into that state in front of Mi Linan.

Because this was Mi Luo’s son, this scheme could only succeed.

Without waiting for Tian Ruping to respond, Mi Linan first asked Mi Jin, “Do you know why I called you here now?”

Mi Jin said, “To reward me.”

At the end, he still had to add, “Or should we first pay Duke Jinxiu back for his ox? Otherwise that young gentleman will think I’m trying to welch on the debt.”