The Prisoners of Fate: Sequel to The Emperor's Prey

by Jeremy Han

  7

  The two old men had known each other for a long time. They were about the same age, worked in similar capacities, and shared the same sad past, fates irrevocably intertwined by the same crime. Thus they were bonded not only in friendship, but also in purpose, though no matter how sorrowful their pasts had been, they had risen above them and were now powerful, wealthy men.

  The host welcomed his long-time friend to take a seat as a servant poured tea. They sat on a carved, wooden divan intricately painted with gold leaf. The servant was a tea expert from the Fujian province – a premier tea growing area. The man boiled the water until it raised ‘fish-eye bubbles’ - bubbling without loud sizzling sounds as the temperature rose. He then poured the water into a tao ‘clay’ pot, one that had been used for many years. Clay tea pots were porous, and they absorbed the fragrance of the tea over the pots many years of use, enhancing the taste of the brew and the older the tea pot, the more valuable it became. The first brew was poured away to make way for the second as the tea grew in fragrance. Kong Wei, the host, waved his hand and the tea expert retreated out of the room as silent as a wraith. His visitor was lean and tall and both of them had smooth cheeks that hardly ever needed to be shaved once their bodies had been altered by castration. They were both high ranking and powerful taijians ‘castrates’, and as they spoke their voices sounded too high for ordinary men.. The visitor reported the latest news, and Kong remarked when his friend finished.

  “So, the Empress Dowager has let her hounds out.”

  Kong was the assistant Director of the Silijian, ‘the Ceremonial Directorate’, the department that handled the emperor’s correspondences and edicts. Kong’s boss, the director, was the famed eunuch Liu Ning, a dedicated servant of the court. Liu Ning held two portfolios as the Grand Commandant of Nanjing, the southern capital, as well as the Director of the Silijian. As he was frequently south, Kong ran the directorate in the Forbidden City in his place. If the imperial court was the brain, the Office of Ceremonies was the nervous system that passed the instructions. Thus, the director of this office held great power, as he became the voice of the Son of Heaven. His directorate had no instructions sent to Ji Gang from the throne, so he was not aware of the commander’s movement until his friend brought him the news. Lei Xiang, his lean friend, was the imperial chamberlain, responsible for taking care of the imperial household. Ji Gang, leader of the Dong Chang, was feared even by the grand eunuchs, so when he was seen leaving the Forbidden City after meeting the empress dowager, it was duly reported. He had been watched since.

  “He has since sailed,” the chamberlain continued, eyeing his friend’s reaction.

  “To find the man the Empress Dowager sought?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is a desperate move. She suspects something.”

  “Not only did Ji Gang sail south, he has dispatched his agents to look into the assassinations and into the identity of Zhu Wenkui. It seemed that she has personally ordered the internal security department to look into these two cases. She must suspect they are linked.”

  Kong nodded sagely as his mind moved the chess pieces, and his friend waited patiently for him to speak. The host was still as a statue, only the movement of his chest as he breathed indicated he was still alive, even his double chin and eye bags did not wobble. His eyes were half-closed, as he chewed on his friend’s words. Finally he spoke.

  “Empress Dowager Zhang is as sharp as a sword. She can see links that even the Dong Chang could not. We cannot underestimate her. It is never good if the Dong Chang gets involved, they are too dangerous. Ji Gang is still alive because all those who stood against him are dead. That man is trouble and now she has unleashed him.”

  “For our plan to succeed, the Dong Chang must be either neutralised or bought,” Lei said. His comment was not an idle one.

  Kong barked a sarcastic laugh. “The Eastern Depot under Ji Gang is too good for that. We must do all we can to make sure we don’t become their target. So Ji Gang’s trip to the south….?”

  “He seeks the fugitive Emperor Jian Wen. The Empress Dowager wants a regent that does not desire the throne,” the chamberlain replied.

  “Cunning,” he remarked. “Extremely cunning. Even I am impressed by this former concubine.”

  He smirked mirthlessly, his lips curled but his eyes remained hard and cold as marble. Kong thought she had calculated that if Zhu Wenkui was really a prince, his execution for rebellion might stir trouble for her son, causing him to lose merit in the eyes of the people. She had read the political climate correctly. Publicised executions of rebels were no longer the means to control a populace after the prior reigns of Hong Xi and Xuan De, the current Zheng Tong Emperor’s grandfather and father, had ushered in an era of enlightened governance by virtue and law instead of force. Jian Wen, as the second emperor of the Ming, wanted to usher in an enlightened reign after his grandfather’s cruel rule. However, he was overthrown by his uncle the Yong Le Emperor, who was every bit as blood thirsty as Hung Wu had been. In fact, Jian Wen meant ‘building a civilised society’. It made sense now why she wanted Ji Gang to find the elusive monk-emperor. Jian Wen was the perfect hedge against the rebel Zhu Wenkui, and if he could persuade his ‘son’ to give up the rebellion peacefully they would win the love and support of the people. This translated directly into support for her eight year-old emperor son.

  Long-lost father finds long-lost son.... How apt?

  He gave his verdict with a frown. “The former emperor cannot return. The Empress Dowager must not gain such a powerful ally. Jian Wen was greatly loved by the Civil Service, the Shi, the court officials who follow strictly the teachings of Confucius. The boy-emperor would gain great moral right to rule if Jian Wen were to become co-regent.”

  “How do you plan to stop it?”

  After Kong revealed his plans, the chamberlain laughed. “You think of everything do you?”

  “When you serve the emperor, you must anticipate all of his moves.”

  Then Lei took on a serious expression as he spoke. “And how did you plan for this even before I brought you the information?”

  Kong smiled. “I know everything, my friend. Everything.”

  8

  The empress dowager bowed before the memorial tablet of her dead husband. The mausoleum of the previous emperor had been sealed, and a memorial hall for ceremonies and offerings had been built. She was alone in the silent, sacred chamber. Only members of the imperial household were allowed to enter this private place where personal memories were shared. A bronze bowl with three joss sticks sat on the altar, whose ethereal gray smoke climbed and dissipated lazily like the lives of men – ambitious, transient and temporal. Her husband, the Xuan De Emperor’s reign was a golden age, but even emperors died and disappeared. Under his reign the empire had been prosperous, and his policy of not engaging in foreign wars led to peace. More importantly, he had continued his father’s policy of governing with just laws. He had built something great, and she was so proud of him.

  He had been truly talented. He had painted well, and was genuinely interested in philosophy, strategy and economics. He frequently visited his teachers even after he ascended the throne to engage them in discussions. His mind was razor sharp, and had always been hungry for knowledge so that he could become better ruler. She gazed at the portrait, lookeing into the eyes, the beard. Even to this day, though he had died suddenly from sickness at the young age of thirty-five, he still mesmerised her,. She remembered her first time meeting him. From a poor family, she was sold to be a concubine. Living in a gilded cage she could die a virgin, unless fate or guile intervened. She had bribed a eunuch, and he had changed the emperor’s companion schedule in her favour.

  The night she was bathed and perfumed for him, she had been so afraid. What if he did not like her? What if he found out she was not his choice? The eunuch assured her the emperor seldom remembered who he slept with – there were just too many women. All they could do was get her into the
room and leave the rest to fate. The castrates had ushered her into the imperial bedchamber and she sat on his bed waiting to receive the seed of a dragon. She remembered clearly how fast her heart had been beating, and when he opened the door she actually jumped in shock. The moment had arrived. He was tired, and it was dark. He neither cared nor remembered who he chose. He took her and she responded as taught. She actually enjoyed the golden moment when they became one. The feeling, the sensation of flesh against flesh giving pleasure to each other was etched into her consciousness. Then it happened, and she felt the hot liquid in her that could raise her to become an empress.

  She did not become pregnant immediately and she became depressed, believing that her chance was over. The emperor would forget, leaving her to remember her only night with a man. But to her surprise, he called for her again. And then again. Physical desire slowly turned into genuine affection between emperor and maid and finally the imperial physician told her the joyful news every concubine wanted to hear: she would bear the Son of Heaven an heir.

  Majesty, How I miss you! Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  He had favoured her after she bore him a son. His official wife, the empress, displeasured him and he had her stepped down. She became jealous of the young concubine whom the emperor was spending more and more time with. Of course the concubine knew what was going on between the two of them, and played her cards right. She cajoled the monarch to come to her every evening to see her and their baby boy. With the right words, pleasing to his ears, the emperor’s goodwill fell on her. As she was the next in the imperial household with a son, he elevated her to empress and she had thought her future was made.

  But then... then he had died.

  The title of Empress Dowager was a heavy burden. She had wanted so badly to have died with her one true love, to be buried with him, but she was very much alive now, and it had left her extremely troubled. One indication of living is the ability to feel, and at that moment she felt vulnerable and fearful.

  I am merely a woman. How could I govern the empire and protect our son?

  Would he blame her for asking Ji Gang to find the monk-emperor? The Jian Wen emperor did not officially exist after Yong Le’s purge, but she knew. She had heard of him, and she had dug at sources that revealed the truth. She did not care about Yong Le’s feud with his nephew. The great Yong Le Emperor, venerated by Ming historians, was dead. Jian Wen lived on in a faraway land untouched by the Eastern Depot, and instinctively she knew the monk whom she had never met posed no threat to her son. She felt that maternal pull , that need to protect her son, but as of now she did not know how to.

  Who can I trust within the court? The eunuchs? The civil servants? The military?

  Already she could sense the under-currents. In the past eunuchs were controlled by able emperors. They could were not to over-step their boundaries, as a clever monarch would use the institutions to counter-balance each other. If they did happen to cross that line, the monarch was generally powerful enough to curb them. But now, as an eight year-old boy sat on the throne, how would he be able to control the different factions who clamoured for influence? It would be like a child trying to stop three adults from fighting over the family inheritance.

  I am only a woman….Her self-doubt repeated itself like a nagging aunt. Would Ji succeed…? A thousand doubts flew through her mind, and her fingers subconsciously tightened over the red silk handkerchief.

  What if Jian Wen’s already dead?

  So many things could go wrong, and she missed her sheltered life tremendously. Empresses never had to worry about such things. They looked into the affairs of the imperial household, they bossed over the domestic eunuchs and concubines, but they never got into the deep whirlpool of state affairs. They bathed in the still, perfumed, heated waters of the imperial bath. She felt like a drowning child.

  So much intrigue. Please give me wisdom, she silently begged her deceased husband.

  As she raised her head after bowing, she scrutinised his face again. The artist had done a good job – he looked exactly as he had when alive. Besides being a humane ruler, he had also been a fierce warrior. He had personally led troops against the Mongols and drove them off the northern borders. He had strength, and the painter had captured it in the outline of his jaw. She felt his vigour, and it gave her a sense of mission. She did not want to disappoint him.

  I will do what it takes to raise our son and defend him. He will succeed, even exceed you. I know that is what you want, and that is what I will do as his mother and your empress. I swear it!

  Slowly, she got to her feet. She was careful, her feet having been bound since she was very young. Known as ‘lotus feet’, a bound foot did not grow beyond seven inches, and the painful, toe-breaking process was considered necessary if a woman was to marry into privilege, especially for that of the eldest girl-child of a poor family. Marrying their eldest daughter to a wealthy family might save the rest from starvation, and the memory of her toes being broken one by one at the tender age of four still caused her to shudder. No woman, unless she was non-Han, could become a concubine with the dainty lotus feet that man of high status found erotic. The price of her status were years of agony and suffering, but at that age, who would have understood? How would she comprehend what her parents did? How could she accept she was making a sacrifice for her entire family? All she knew was her loss of mobility compared to the other children and the fevered nights when infection from her putrefying toes set in, and the smell of rotting flesh would remain in her mind forever. She still felt the sense of loss when her toes had finally dropped off. She paid a high price to become empress, and she would defend it. The painful years, instead of making her weak, had strengthened her.

  As she walked she almost fell, her little feet no longer able to balance her weight and centre of gravity, but she remained on her feet as resolve flooded her. She felt her chest puff. Not only must she be strong, she must be ruthless. She had endured much pain before, and now there was nothing that she could not do. Confidence seeped into her like water into parched ground. She must have found favour with her husband’s spirit. He understood it was hard on her, and he must have been touched by her loyalty and her maternal devotion. She bowed one more time before leaving the memorial hall.

  Her servants and carriage were waiting for her. She looked up at the sun’s rays that had turned to a soft gold by the time she stepped out of the darkly lit building. The wind blew and the golden leaves from a tree fell like a shower over her. It would be a long way back to the purple palace and she had a lot to think about - A long-lost crown prince, a demoness killing her generals and a fugitive monk-emperor who might be her only hope.

  Tian! ‘Heavens’ What a mess!

  Her servants and guards bowed as she approached. A eunuch quickly opened the door to the red imperial carriage and she entered it. The royal entourage clattered away as the driver whipped the horses into action. Tall, red-robed Jinyi Wei men with their high distinctive, riding boots surrounded her carriage. Evil could not be seen, but could be felt. A storm was brewing, and she had doubled her guard in preperation. She wished Ji Gang would quickly return with good news.

  That evening, she invited the ministers of war and justice to the palace for dinner. It was an informal dinner, as she did not want the rest of the government officials and princes to hear what they had to say. She needed to weigh what they had found out before she decided her next course of action. The two esteemed bureaucrats bowed and greeted her.

  “Ten thousand years, Majesty.”

  “Rise, gentlemen, thank you for seeing me.” In truth, they had been summoned. The two men got up and sat by the dinner table, as indicated by their host. They looked at the exquisitely prepared food, yet they had no appetite. They had heard that she went to the tomb today, and as soon as she returned she summoned them for dinner. She saw their reaction and waited, but if they did not want to eat, so be it. The war minister looked at the emperor’s mother, who had dressed in a dark,
sombre silk dress with gold motifs. Her face was powdered flawlessly as usual, and her lips were painted bright red. Her hair was more casually made today, not the imperial style she wore when she held court on behalf of her son. The old man looked at her and concluded that she was still stunningly beautiful, a testament to the late emperor’s choice of favour, but it was her blood red nails that unsettled him as she started to tap them on the marble table impatiently. Tap tap….She reminded him of a falcon. Beautiful and graceful, cunning and calculating, but above all she was dangerous.

  He spoke first. “Empress Dowager Zhang, the general of Hangzhou, General Wang was a veteran. He started his career, like so many, under the Emperor Yong Le. He fought the Mongols in three successive campaigns that drove them far away from our borders. For a long time, he was the General of the North, and held dual command with the eunuch Grand Defender of Gansu until he was rewarded with this position. Now, he shares command with the Grand Commandant of Nanjing, Liu Ning.”

  Nanjing, which means ‘Southern Capital’, was the secondary capital of the Ming, a transportation hub that connected the primary northern capital with the southern provinces. It was considered a strategic place even though the imperial palace was no longer there. Yong Le shifted the seat of power to Beijing for two reasons: the first was because the north was his powerbase, and the second was because the northern city was strategic in the defence against the Mongols, which he was heavily involved in. Nevertheless, Nanjing remained an important hub of imperial control, and significant military forces were placed there. Liu had served the two preceding emperors with distinction, and continued to hold the position of Grand Commandant. He was also the Director of Ceremony, the directorate in charge of all imperial communications. All seals and edicts were drawn up by the directorate and dispatched, but Liu was always away hence his vice-director, and Kong Wei helmed the directorate.