by Jeremy Han
“Majesty!” Zhao and Li ran over.
“My friends…,” Jian Wen said weakly as he looked at the two men who had protected him all these years. His eyes were unfocused and glazed.
The Acrobat got up and faced Ji Gang, hatred blazing from his eyes. “You murderer!”
Ji Gang did not flinch. “I did not come to kill him.”
“LIAR!” Li shouted back, eyes bulging as the veins in his neck pulsed. Zhao slowly got up, his eyes never leaving the man who had hunted them. He looked like a tiger sizing up an intruder as he clenched his fists.
Ji Gang spoke again. “My mission was to get his help. Why would I kill him?”
“Because he refused you?” Zhao suggested menacingly.
“I killed those assassins,” Ji Gang answered emotionlessly, pointing out that he had helped in the fight.
“You could have sent them to scare his Majesty then kill them to convince us you are not the culprit,” Li accused. “It is not beyond you to kill your own men you ruthless imperial dog.”
Zhao Qi took a menacing step forward. Then he felt a tug, a weak one.
“It’s….not….him. He did not send them,” Jian Wen said feebly, his voice almost a whisper by now.
Zhao knelt by his dying master. “How do you know?”
“He could have killed me this afternoon if he wanted…besides…his real target is Zhu Wenkui….my son.” The monk looked up at his two faithful servants with anguish in his eyes as tears began to stream from them. His grip on Zhao’s hand tightened and he continued speaking in the ragged voice of the dying. “The Dong Chang will not kill my son if I return. I am not his target anymore, but my son is. Please….save him. My son…my wife…I don’t care about losing my empire, my throne, but not being able to save them was my greatest regret.”
“Majesty.” Zhao and Li kneeled. They did not know what to say before an emperor who was dying.
“He…has…has a birthmark….on his shoulder. Promise….me…you will not let the Eastern Depot take his life.” Jian Wen’s hand was turning cold, but his grip was surprisingly strong for someone who was expiring.
“Promise me!”
The monk-emperor’s voice was soft, but he shouted with the intensity of his eyes. Zhao looked on helplessly. He did not want to be embroiled in another imperial intrigue, but who could reject a dying emperor’s request? Zhao had faithfully served Jian Wen all his life, and he could not break the bond of loyalty at this last moment. He looked at Li, and then at the monk-emperor again, then he finally nodded.
“Thank you.”
Jian Wen felt a release in his spirit, and suddenly he felt light. There was no more pain. He saw his life fly by before his eyes: his childhood, his enthronement, the civil war and the days of sorrow when he had turned from emperor to nothing. As his life came to an end his master’s words rang true ‘you came with nothing, and so will you leave’. All those power struggles and material wants had been left behind. He thanked the old man for his wisdom, for it was his master at the cliff temple who had helped him shed his earthly mantle, to prepare for this day when he could go without any baggage. With Zhao’s promise, he knew his son, if he was still alive, would be in good hands, and knowing that he could finally go in peace.
The former emperor closed his eyes, sighed one last time. His chest rose, then slowly dropped, and finally he was still. A life time of suffering had ended at last.
13
The two ex-bodyguards bowed reverently, their foreheads touching the cold ground. They performed three bows as a symbol of honour for the deceased. He had been an emperor after all, despite the fact that the official history of his illustrious clan would deny him his place. He would be buried a commoner in this faraway land, and he would not be buried with his ancestors. His wife and children were presumably dead, and his clan denied his existence. These two men were the closest thing to family he ever had, but the Jian Wen Emperor had died a lonely, forgotten man. According to custom, it should be the oldest son of the deceased to perform the rituals to remember his father, but that man, if he still lives, would soon become an enemy of the court. Their master’s last wish was to ensure that fate would never befall his son, as Jian Wen had known what it felt to be hunted by the emperor’s hounds.
As they paid their last respects Ji Gang started to strip the corpses. The blood and gore of ripped bodies did not repel him, and he observed them with the cool, experienced and objective eye of the commander of the imperial secret service. Zhao looked up after he performed the third bow,
“What the hell are you doing?” he growled. He still did not fully trust Ji Gang.
“Being thorough. I am quite sure they won’t have any identification on them, but I need to make sure,” Ji Gang replied calmly, not bothered in the slightest by Zhao’s animosity. The corpses looked disturbing with their eyes wide opened in violent death. All of them had the frozen expressions of pain and shock locked eternally on their faces until someone was kind enough to close their eyes. But Ji Gang did not bother with such civility, and he was not a kind soul.
All the corpses bore the same mutilation: their body structure was clearly male but they had no genitals. Their pubic area bore pink, rough scarring, a sign that the flesh there had healed from a hideous wound. They had a hole to pass urine, but it was not finely shaped and delicate like a woman’s vagina. The opening was rough, deformed and had a wooden plug inserted to prevent urine leaking. It was a known fact that castration damaged the genital nerves, rendering the victim incontinent. It was the only thing that gave a clue to who they were. In fact, it was conclusive. Such a mutilation was reserved for only one class of people in society.
They were eunuchs. Sold at a young age into a life of humiliation, the deceased were people who had suffered in life, and they had not chosen the path that led to their dying tonight. Zhao and Li did not miss the significance of the disfigurement as they observed the dead bodies. Their grief momentarily put aside, they resumed their professional interest in the dead assassins.
Ji Gang turned to the two. “Let’s look at the two bodies outside just to be sure.” They knew what they would find, but had to confirm it. The two went out and brought the two bodies in. Ji Gang stripped them, and then stood up. He turned to his former nemesis’ for acknowledgement of what they had seen.
Zhao frowned at the sight of the corpses. “Eunuchs.”
“This is extremely disturbing,” Ji Gang replied seriously as he stared at the dead castrates.
“Why? What do the huanguan ‘half-male servants’ got to do with this?” Li pressed.
“When I faced the assassins just now, they recognised me,” Ji Gang said as he recounted the incident. “They were shocked to see me, which means that they knew why I came to look for the former emperor, but they did not expect me to come back at night. They were here to eliminate him and foil my mission.”
Zhao finished the thought for him. “Which means some powerful faction who has access to the eunuchs are involved.”
“No, I don’t think so. Since the time you left, the eunuchs themselves have emerged as an institution that jockeys for power between the army and the civil bureaucracy. Their action tonight means they are going directly against the empress dowager and her son.” Ji Gang’s eyes narrowed as he spoke. Ji Gang was the perfect servant of the state, ruthless and cunning, but totally devoted to the throne. “Which means somehow the eunuchs are involved in this business of Zhu Wenkui and the mysterious assassinations of generals in the east,” he continued.
“What is the link then?” Zhao asked.
“That is what we need to find out,” Ji Gang replied as he looked at his former enemy, the only one he respected. “Will you assist me?”
Zhao looked at Ji Gang with suspicion. “I am not convinced yet that you did not engineer the whole thing,” he said pointedly.
“Perhaps you’ll never be convinced,” Ji Gang replied matter-of-factly. “I know our animosity runs deep. But now, we need to find the same man.
”
“The Dong Chang has never been known to spare their target. In all likelihood, you will kill Zhu Wenkui when we find him,” Zhao rebutted. He did not add the obvious ‘and us too’.
Ji Gang took a deep breath. “I could have kidnapped Jian Wen today and took him back to the Ming by force to use him as a bargaining chip against Zhu Wenkui, if the man really is the son of the former emperor. But I did not do that. The Empress Dowager gave me an order to bring Jian Wen back to be regent. I cannot go against an imperial command. It is her Majesty’s wish to spare Zhu Wenkui by inviting his father back to rule as co-regent. As I explained to the emperor this afternoon she is offering Zhu Wenkui’s life, despite his rebellion, in exchange for her son’s safety against this unseen threat.”
“Now that Jian Wen is dead, the Empress Dowager no longer needs to honour this. Zhu Wenkui will be executed like a common criminal if he is found,” Zhao spat.
Ji Gang turned slowly to face his accuser. “Not if you help me, Zhao Qi. Not if you help me.”
“Why?”
“Because, I told Jian Wen I should never have pursued him, as the Dragon’s blood flowed in his veins. I serve the House of Zhu, and I regret the incident fifteen years ago.” He hesitated.
“Regret? Men have died, Ji Gang. It is too late to lament,” Zhao rebuked him. Ji Gang remained silent. He did not care to defend himself. He had more important things to deal with at the moment than to argue about the past.
“And?” The Acrobat, who had been listening intently, joined the conversation. He knew Ji Gang would not bother to defend himself against Zhao. The mission and its outcome, that was all that mattered to the commander of the Eastern Depot. He cocked his head as he waited for Ji to reveal his true agenda.
“If the eunuchs are involved then the Eastern Depot is probably the first institution they will target. They know what her Majesty sent me here for, and they attempted to thwart an imperial order carried out by the Dong Chang. Does this not tell you that the eunuchs are scheming against the throne? If they dare to do this”, he pointed at the corpses, “then they are prepared to take on the Eastern Depot and by default the throne. She was hoping for a strong regent to bring stability, someone who is not tainted by the influence of the eunuchs. The past emperors were firm, and the castrates, though powerful, behaved. If the former emperor returns he would control the taijians and shield her son from their influence until he grows up. The eunuchs too would take the hint and respect the throne, thus there would be no need for violence. But now Jian Wen is dead and there is no longer a soft option to deal with the eunuchs.” Ji Gang stopped to look at the both of them to emphasise his point. “And if she cannot deal with them through subtle means, she will wage war on them, wipe them out even. But the eunuchs are so entrenched in the system it is like a disease. To fight them, you may have to destroy vital organs in the process.” Ji Gang paused again, glancing between the two men before saying, “In this fight, the Eastern Depot needs all the help it can get.”
“The eunuchs, they are that powerful?” Zhao remarked.
“Yes,” his former foe replied firmly. “Ever since the Hong Xi Emperor instituted the academy for eunuchs, they have risen in status and position as more and more of them hold high office. Some are good and loyal, but there will be those who scheme against the empire.” Ji Gang was referring to the formal education of the eunuchs under the reign of Hong Xi, Yong Le son’s. Emperor Hong Xi believed that the eunuchs were a vital part of the system as a third hand of the government besides the army and the civil service. The army and civil service had their own procedures and codes, which sometimes even the emperor could not affect. But the eunuchs were slaves, and hence totally beholden to the emperor. The monarch frequently used them as his personal emissaries or representatives outside the chain of command. The power of the castrates was not usually formalised, but depended largely on their relationship to the royal family. The founding emperor of the Ming did not allow the education of eunuchs to keep them faithful and dependent on the emperor’s favour, but his descendant had thought otherwise. Formal education would make the eunuchs more useful to the throne as a counter-balance to the educated bureaucrats. However, it also put thoughts unfavourable to the throne into their heads.
Li looked at Zhao. “This Empress Dowager is wise, but tough. She does not want to rock the boat by suppressing the eunuchs openly because she knows how much power they wield, yet she would do everything to protect her son. She knows how to wield power in both the gentle and the hard way. I must say, I am impressed.”
“It is not our wish to get involved in court affairs,” Zhao replied firmly. “All we want is Zhu Wenkui”, he added, “if he truly is the crown prince.”
“If he is only a puppet manipulated by a greater power, then I want the mastermind,” Ji Gang answered. “You can have him, and I guarantee you safe passage back to this place.”
Then in a rare gesture of humanity Ji Gang said softly, “Let him come here to pay his last respects to the late emperor and tend to his father’s tomb. I pledge his safety.” This was a significant gesture because filial piety was prized as the most important virtue. Anyone who did not tend to their parents’ tomb was considered an outcast, worst than an animal. After a pause, he asked Zhao and Li, “So what do you say?”
“Let us bury our master first before we give you an answer.”
14
The cool of the morning did not give them comfort. As the birds sang to welcome the new day Li and Zhao tiredly filled the grave they had dug throughout the night. They found a mount with soft soil surrounded by bamboo, and there they prepared their master’s grave, labouring until the sun had risen. Digging was hard work, but these two were tough. They dug silently, each to his thoughts with only the sound of shifting earth filling the space between them. Their clothes were soaking wet, weighed down with humidity and the sweat of hard work. Pale sunlight streamed through the bamboo clump, the single ray broken into many slivers by the tall, slim green stalks that reached the golden sky. The two men gently shovelled soil over the rough timber coffin in the grave. Jian Wen, the emperor turned fugitive monk, was finally at rest. Born an emperor, yet died a nobody. If not for the cruel twist of events thirty three years ago this day would be a grand affair, with thousands mourning him as the grand imperial funeral procession would accompany his body to the ancestral tombs at the hills surrounding the imperial capital. The location for imperial burial was carefully selected to ensure the best fengshui: surrounded by green hills and abundant water sources.
Jian Wen’s ancestors had had concubines buried with them. Women were buried alive or strangled to join their master in the next world, but in all probability, Zhao thought, Jian Wen would not do that. He was a humane ruler, too humane, he reflected, humane to the point where his uncle took everything away from him. If Jian Wen sat on the throne, he would have brought an era of compassionate rule to the empire. But his uncle, Yong Le, who usurped his throne was different. He had ruled with an iron fist, and murdered his concubines on suspicion of conspiracy. The tyrannous uncle was buried in a grand tomb with many unwilling companions – concubines and servants, but the gentle Jian Wen laid in an unmarked, unadorned grave, alone and forgotten but for two loyal bodyguards.
So much for justice.
Once they had covered the grave, they carved a plaque. They kneeled before the plaque, and bowed three times, forehead touching the ground and feeling the cool of the soil rub against their skin, smelling its richness - the wealth of a thousand, unchanging years. They got up and observed a moment of silence, each remembering the trials and tribulations they suffered because their destinies were tied to the deceased. Memory took them back to the days they proudly wore the oxblood red uniform of the imperial guard. Young men, tested in battle, confident and proud of their duty to protect an emperor they loved. Then had come the fateful night fleeing the usurper’s army, narrowly escaping death, the reunion of the bodyguards fifteen years ago to escort Jian Wen out of empi
re, hotly pursued by the Dong Chang. It was a mission impossible – a group of ragtag warriors against the deadly imperial secret service, but for the invaluable help of the Chamberlain Wen Xuan, who gave his life for Jian wen, the men, and the Grand Admiral Zheng He, they would not have survived. They had enjoyed the years of peace and safety up until last night, when their pasts finally caught up with them. No matter how far he ran, Jian Wen’s royal blood remained a curse.
The Acrobat turned to Zhao, asking, “What now?”
Zhao shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I promised his Majesty to save his son before he died, but it does not mean I did it willingly,” Zhao said tiredly.
Li Jing sighed. He knew what Zhao meant. They were safe here. It was not their business anymore, but a promise to the dead could not be broken. It would be an act of great disloyalty.
“You don’t have to come, Li,” Zhao said finally.
“You think I’m afraid or unwilling?”
“No, I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“That’s where you are wrong.”
“Wrong?” Zhao asked, raising an eyebrow as he cocked his head toward his comrade.
“I feel Jian Wen’s pain deeply,” The Acrobat said with empathy. “Perhaps more than you.”
“What do you mean?” the commander asked. “He should have severed all earthly ties as a monk. And he has not seen his son for more than thirty-three years.”
“There are some ties you can never sever. The bond between a parent and child is the greatest in the world. Parents will die for their children, or do unbelievable things for them.”
“I can see that between you and Li Po.”