by Yan LeiSheng
“Uncle Wei,” he said quietly, “in reality, the Record of Blood Spilt for a Righteous Cause contains only fragments of information, but there is something else which may interest you.”
“Master Yan, get to the point, please!”
“Someone came to look at that book the day before yesterday, and he specifically requested a copy of scroll nineteen thousand six hundred and sixty-three of the Yongle Encyclopedia.”
This encyclopedia contained all of the knowledge acquired since the time of Emperor Qin Shihuang through to the reign of Emperor Yongle. It was the largest book in the world, composed of over six thousand volumes in some twenty-two thousand scrolls. Alone, it could fill an entire building, and contained more text than a single person could read in a lifetime. When it was complete, it was stored in a pavilion at the Imperial Academy in Nanjing, then transferred to Beijing when the building was destroyed in a fire. There it was stored in the Pavilion of Literature in the Forbidden City, not far from the Palace of Splendid Literature. Entry was forbidden to commoners, and anyone wishing to consult the Yongle Encyclopedia had to undergo a significant application process. This applied even to Libationer Yan, who had free access all other parts of the collection of rare and ancient books.
“The person who consulted the encyclopedia was not a civil servant, but they had been granted access,” he clarified.
The copyist eunuchs of the academies and pavilions used to secretly engage in reproducing the secret and rare works in their care. At the beginning of the Ming dynasty, Emperor Hongwu tried to curb their efforts by forbidding them from learning to read, but his successor, Xuanzong, repealed this measure and even established an academy in the palace dedicated to teaching them. Having given lessons in the establishments, Libationer Yan was well aware that most could now read, and that among them there were some excellent calligraphers whose talent was wasted on merely reproducing texts. The training of these qualified staff was a necessity, but over time, the eunuchs began to charge higher and higher prices for copies of rare books, and to maximize their profits, they broke the rules and accepted commissions from anyone willing to pay the price, regardless of whether they had the correct permissions.
Identifying an old book that mentioned the Precursor Box was like looking for a needle in a haystack, and the libationer had been lucky to be informed by one of his contacts that another visitor had asked to consult the Record of Blood Spilt for a Righteous Cause in scroll nineteen thousand six hundred and sixty-three of the Yongle Encyclopedia. He was filled with joy and had immediately informed Uncle Wei of his good fortune.
For his part, the Tiger gave nothing away, but his heart was pounding in his chest as he listened to the libationer’s account. While it hadn’t been Shao Jun herself who had accessed the text, it had to have been a member of the Central Plain Brotherhood, most likely the disappeared mentor himself. The situation, which had until that point seemed insoluble, had taken a new turn.
“Who was the permission to consult the text issued to?” he asked.
“See for yourself,” responded Libationer Yan, handing him a piece of paper drawn from his sleeve.
Wei Bin did not like what he saw.
“This form has no name on it!”
“It’s because… Uncle Wei, it’s because… according to the Confucian precept of ‘education for all’, the Imperial Academy is open to everyone, so the administrators cannot refuse entry to anyone…”
“All you need to do is pay to enter,” the Tiger finished. He suddenly realized that the very respectable Imperial Academy had become a source of dishonest income for swindlers like Yan. However, he did not have any desire to reprimand the libationer for his greed, for he would never have found Shao Jun’s trail without it. How ironic!
“When was the copy collected?”
“It will be collected tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow?”
Was it possible? In that case, Wei Bin simply needed to wait at the Academy to catch Shao Jun. He would never have thought that the problem that had caused him such a headache for days could be resolved so easily. Struggling to hide his eagerness, he simply said, “Very well. I will return tomorrow, and I will capture this individual when they arrive.”
Unenthusiastic about the idea of an altercation in the Imperial Academy, Libationer Yan shuddered.
“That is to say that… Master Bin, this situation should be considered carefully… If you were to come to blows in our institution…”
Indeed, if the Academy was the backdrop to a scuffle, the juicy illicit trade that took place there would risk being dealt a terrible blow. Deciding that it would be unwise to cause problems for the person who had metaphorically pulled the thorn from his paw, Wei Bin agreed to make a concession.
“I will only attack them once they are outside your walls.”
Sighing with relief, Libationer Yan bowed deeply.
“Thank you for your generosity, Uncle Wei!”
•••
The following day was wet, and in the cold and wet climate of the beginning of the decidedly inclement spring, the Academy building seemed even gloomier and more desolate than ever to Wei Bin. He waited in a room upstairs from which he could observe the main entrance, and his day had been terribly boring, interrupted only by the meal sent to him by Libationer Yan near midday. The institution housed around a thousand students and disciples, but generally had very few visitors. Only two had presented themselves, and neither collected a copy of the Record of Blood Spilt for a Righteous Cause. When twilight arrived, just as he was ready to give up, his disciple, who he had nicknamed “Left paw”, whispered, “Master, they’re here!”
Wei Bin liked to see himself as an incarnation of the Great Bear, as legend attributed it with the power to decide who lived and who died. He had decided to rename his assistants after the faintest stars in the constellation: “Right paw” and “Left paw”. Several days earlier, he had sent the first to kill an enemy, and today was accompanied only by the second, who had excellent kung-fu skills.
Stirred from his reverie, Wei Bin immediately looked out of the window, from which he could only see a shadow sheltered by an umbrella as they walked slowly through the hutong9 towards the entrance. It was impossible to identify them from this vantage point.
9 A small neighborhood composed of traditional houses and narrow lanes.
Could it be the imperial favorite? He didn’t remember how tall she was. Arriving at the door, the visitor exchanged several words with the concierge, who rang the small bell hanging in the entrance. Ding!
That was the signal! Left Paw jumped to his feet. “Master, do we attack now?” he asked.
If it was Shao Jun, Wei Bin was ready to break the promise he made to the libationer and immediately engage her in combat. Some caution was nonetheless necessary.
“Let us wait a while longer.”
He was too far away to distinguish the words, but he could hear the timbre of his target’s voice, and it couldn’t be a woman. Shao Jun must have sent someone in her stead, one of the beggars who would do your shopping for several measly coins. In that case, attacking now would only raise the alarm… Better to let this one go for now and follow this person to their real target.
“Assistant,” said Wei Bin, “you will stay behind. We mustn’t be seen.”
“Understood!”
The Tiger knew his disciple was a good tracker, having trained him himself, but preferred to leave nothing to chance on this occasion. He collected his umbrella from the wall and descended the stairs alone.
When he arrived on the floor below, the unknown visitor has already collected their reservation and left the building. Wei Bin waited for them to take a dozen steps before beginning to follow. The art of tailing someone relied on estimating the correct distance to leave between the hunter and their prey. Too close, and you risked being spotted; too far, and you risked l
osing them. The best distance is normally between ten and twenty steps for a good balance between discretion and visibility. After years spent in the imperial guard, Wei Bin applied these principles instinctively.
The Imperial Academy, overlooked by the temple of Confucius, was located on the Street of Venerable Learning, in the Dongcheng district. The unknown figure entered the hutong by the Lane of Virtuous Success, heading west to cross Andingmen Street, then joining Imperial Carriage Way via Street of the Tree of Mind.
Wei Bin was pleased to see his mark heading towards a district that was just as desolate and more importantly, devoid of people due to the bad weather. Perhaps by following the vine to reach the melon, he would not only find Shao Jun’s hiding place, but also that of the mentor. As Zhang Yong seemed more concerned about this mysterious adversary than the imperial favorite, Wei Bin was certain to return to his good graces if he succeeded in flushing them out.
Clearly unaware of the danger stalking him, the person walked at a steady pace and whistled popular tunes. At the end of Imperial Carriage Way, he turned onto the Lane of Drums and Gongs, on the edge of the Jintai district and at the entrance to a hutong bounded by a yellow wall, a color reserved for imperial palaces and temples. It was a peaceful neighborhood full of luxurious villas, where the motley crowd of the center never ventured. Its temple was the Temple of the Understanding of Law, built during the reign of the last Yuan emperor, with three rooms added fifty years ago. It had since fallen into relative abandonment; now all that frequented the temple were several monks who placed prayer stones every day and sometimes burned incense.
That was where Wei Bin’s prey was going.
He chuckled as he saw the figure steal into the building. No one could have imagined that the imperial concubine, a girl of ill repute mixed up in powerful intrigues, would set foot in a Buddhist temple… She must have asked the man with the umbrella to leave the book in a safe place so she could come to collect it later.
The Tiger couldn’t help but have some admiration for this young girl of the court who had now transformed into a rebel adept in the use of cunning tricks. But her talents and spirit would not help her here: she would soon be just another anonymous body dumped in the slums.
“One who prospers in calamity perishes in comfort”, Mencius said. Wei Bin might not be a scholar on the level of Zhang Yong, but he at least remembered this quote. It had not been so long ago, during the previous dynasty, that he had taken the oath to be an upstanding and respected mandarin; as he remembered this, his smile faded and he was overcome by a feeling of shame.
“Future generations may judge me as they will, there was but one path leading to where I am today,” he thought to himself.
When the figure exited the temple and returned to Imperial Carriage Way, he turned and blocked its way. After all, although this person may not know all the details, they could at least reveal who had employed them.
“Little brother…” he whispered.
The unknown man lowered his umbrella to hide his movements as he drew a knife from his belt, then began a strike towards Wei Bin’s throat, all before he had even had the chance to finish his sentence.
The Tiger had not expected for one moment that he would be attacked by this insignificant creature. But he suddenly recognized the style of these fast and precise moves, and realized who he was dealing with–
“Shao Jun!”
Blinded by his prejudices, he had fallen right into her trap.
Nonetheless, he still believed that she couldn’t be the one behind these strategies. But who could her mysterious ally be? It had to be the mentor, and if he had escaped the careful searching during the Great Rites controversy, he clearly deserved the title. Having an adversary of this caliber was as troubling as it was exhilarating.
But first he had to take care of the most immediate threat, the blade aimed at his throat. With extraordinary reflexes, he raised his left arm and the blade clanged against his protective metal bracer. While legends spoke of the Golden Mask, the Iron Shirt, and the Thirteen magical movements to protect against all attacks, this type of kung-fu required extremely demanding training and magical knowledge. Having parried the blade, he grabbed the knife handle in the other hand and snatched it from the young woman. This highly skilled move known as The guest acts as host allowed him to turn the tables.
The brief moment of frenzy passed, he calmed himself once more. Now he had his assailant’s weapon, he was back in control. He let out a cold laugh.
“You see, little imperial favorite, I now have three weapons…”
After Zhang Yong, Wei Bin was the most highly trained of the Eight Tigers, and he had mastered the dao of combat down to the finest detail, one of the precepts of which is knowing your opponent. As a student he had been very taken with the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. He would have liked to see Masu make Zhu Geliang’s ambition – to face the Wei and Wu kingdoms – his own, after successfully thwarting the latter’s plans for a punitive expedition to the south. He had subsequently been very disappointed when his favorite character, the one he most identified with, was killed following his defeat at the battle of Jieting! Over time, he had come to realize that Masu, while he had commanded three thousand battalions, had never experienced the reality of the battlefield, his ingenuity had been merely theoretical, and his strategies too focused on the attack to be effective. In a real fight, taking control of mistakes was the key to victory: thanks to his original riposte, Wei Bin was sure to have a decisive advantage over Shao Jun. But against all expectations, she did not allow herself to be thrown, and instead of fighting to recover her knife, she fled towards the Temple of the Understanding of Law.
What was she playing at?
As the several remaining monks were still in the meditation room of Western Paradise, the main building seemed completely deserted when Wei Bin entered. He saw the former imperial favorite slip into a side room, and for a moment wondered if she planned to ambush him, but quickly rejected the idea. Still, he would have no trouble extricating himself from any predicament, and at worst, Left Paw would soon be joining him.
While most eunuchs were Buddhist, Wei Bin was a follower of yelikewen, a form of Christianity imported under the Mongol dynasty of the Yuans, and thus paid little attention to the fact that the pediment of the room he ventured into bore the title “Buddha of Healing”. This was the name of the human-sized statue that occupied the center of the small, faded, empty room, where no incense had been burnt for years. Shao Jun stood in front of the deity, with no exit and no one to help her.
She had probably taken a wrong turn, and now here she was, trapped in a dead end! And because the Tiger now had her knife, there was a good chance she was completely disarmed.
He let out a short laugh.
“It’s over! The imperial concubine would be wise to avoid upsetting this imperial slave…”
While the Tiger was indeed an imperial slave – a term used to refer to the eunuchs who occupied posts at the palace – as a traitor with a warrant for her arrest, Shao Jun was no longer officially a concubine and even less so an imperial favorite. He had used these terms mockingly, to highlight the difference in their positions.
“Slave Wei, are you loyal to His Majesty the former Emperor?”
“The old Emperor can no longer protect his dear concubine from where he is now. You’ll be better off if you come without causing trouble.”
“You want to see me dead whether I come quietly or not.”
“Give me the Precursor Box, a-and I promise that… your life will be spared.”
In reality, Zhang Yong would never let her go. He would imprison her, torture her, and then take great pleasure in watching her suffer as she died. Why had Wei Bin hesitated so much as he uttered his lie?
Cursing himself for this mistake, he remembered the first time he saw Shao Jun, at an audience with the old Emperor Zhengde. Even then,
the young concubine, the only one not to have her feet bound, stood out for her determination and her proud expression, the complete antithesis of the delicate façade projected by the other women and girls in the harem. He had been fascinated by her individuality, not because he was attracted to her, but because he envied her. And today, while her experiences had marked the young woman’s face as much as they had built her character, the eunuch’s feelings were amplified: free and indomitable, Shao Jun was everything he wished he could be. Worse, she was young and her whole future lay ahead of her, while he had begun to decline and was nothing more than an old man in waiting. He was enraged.
“What do you want with the Precursor Box?” she asked him.
“You remember the scroll you entrusted to your friend, the imperial consort Zhang?”
“So, she did give it to you… Is it connected to the box?”
“Of course…”
Wei Bin had said too much. He must be growing soft in his old age. But this confession could be turned to his advantage, as the former imperial favorite had been close to Zhang Qiang, and learning that her childhood friend had betrayed her had to have shaken her. But she showed neither surprise nor sadness.
Now in his fifties, Wei Bin guessed it had been some twenty years at least since he had last felt compassion. Killing affected him so little that he couldn’t say how many people he had executed during the Great Rites Controversy. He had simply obeyed Zhang Yong’s orders as he always did, helping him achieve his dream without receiving a great deal in return. His mission had been to bring back Shao Jun alive, but he decided to have fun, just this once.