by Jeremy Han
He did not register the colourful street scenes. All he saw was the past that had led to his current course of action as his mind drifted back thirty-three years. The palace at Nanjing was on fire. Confusion reigned as everyone tried to escape the usurper’s slaughtering army. The prince had defeated his nephew, the Jian Wen Emperor, and death awaited the fugitive emperor and his family. Most of their servants had abandoned them, reckoning that if they distanced them from the dethroned ruler they might be spared. The usurper had a reputation for cruelty and he had eventually executed everyone who held loyal to his nephew.
Only a handful of the most faithful had helped the royal family to escape. Amidst the flames, the chaos, the selfish behaviour of those who only wanted to save themselves a small group of them, Kong Wei the junior eunuch, Wen Xuan the chamberlain, and a few remaining bodyguards had tried to smuggle the royal family out of the palace through a small, seldom used gate that was so obscure the emperor did not even know it existed.
Dense smoke had cloaked them as they made their way in the darkness, their only illumination the broiling red sky lit by the burning of their home. The young emperor tried to master his fear and comfort his empress, but the two young sons could only respond to the mayhem by crying. Even the empress was panicking and could not ease her sons. Another group of bodyguards found them and after a quick discussion Zhao Qi, the chief bodyguard, looked crestfallen – their escape route had been discovered. They could hear horses neighing and men shouting as the enemy closed in.
With great sadness he had announced that they could rescue only the emperor. The rest of them, the empress and the boys, had to stay. The remaining loyal bodyguards swore to die to buy them time, and then they had run off to form the last barricade between the hunter and the prey. The empress broke down and wailed and Kong’s heart was wrenched.
So young...and so beautiful, Kong had thought.
His eyes had teared when he looked at the boys. He had loved them. What can I do? Tian ’Heavens’! I can’t let the boys die! The bodyguards had forcefully separated the crying father from his doomed family and took off while those who remained sealed the gate behind the fleeing monarch and waited for their death. Suddenly, he saw a place in his mind - a place he could hide them!
“This way!” he shouted. He had no time to explain as he carried the two boys and ran, the distraught empress following, stumbling in her beautiful, long silk dress. He led them to a disused grain house.
“Stay here! I will come back,” he whispered to his fearful charges. The empress reluctantly let him go, but then she had cried out.
“Wait! Take this and hide it somewhere safe.” She gave him a pouch, but he hesitated to take it. After a moment of unease, she told him the truth about the pouch of documents.
“Their birth documents,” she explained. “If my children are found with them, it will be their death sentence.”
He nodded, and something surged in his heart as he suddenly realised that he was no longer a nobody. He now held the lives of the empress and two princes in his hands. He went off, not knowing if he would be killed by the next dawn or not. He swore he would be back, and the empress’ look of gratitude when he hid them had been worth dying for. He was needed, and it felt good.
When the usurper had taken stock of his captives the next day Kong Wei lied, claiming he was a kitchen eunuch. Too insignificant to deserve death he, and many others, were made to witness the swift execution of all those loyal to the deposed emperor. He recalled the day they marched in chains to the execution ground at the hour of Wu, when the sun was at its highest. All of them had been dressed in white, the colour of the condemned, but for many of them the white had been splotched with blood. Some of them limped painfully to their deaths as palace guards, officials, even the princes’ nanny were herded under the harsh sun and made to kneel before their condemner. Kong recognised several faces, and shuddered as he realised it could have been him kneeling there too. Death had missed him, but just barely. Some of the condemned started to weep and he lowered his head in guilt. He had another reason now to survive. He was needed by no less than the empress and her princes. His mind floated above the death and cruelty surrounding him, raised by the smile of a beautiful woman.
I saved her, when even the emperor could not.
Over time he fed the fugitives and had plotted to take them away from the palace. Eventually the empress had died of grief. Without the knowledge of whether her husband was safe or not she had deteriorated, and without hope, she givin in to sickness. Kong, the only one she could trust, was the one she had entrusted her children to. Pale and fragile, she had whispered to him like a wraith.
“Do not let them die...and if you can,” she said, “restore what is rightful to my son...the Crown Prince.”
She squeezed his hand, the icy palms unyielding until he promised. Her weak voice trailed off softly.
“Thank you….” It sounded soft as an echo.
She had died peacefully with a smile. Kong remembered he remarked to himself how small she had become. He briefly blamed himself for not feeding her better before the cry of the boys brought him back to reality - what should he do with the princes?
Kong remembered reaching over to close her eyes, and he had bowed three times as tears streaked down his cheeks. His shoulders shuddered with the burden of his grief, and a part of him had died with her, but he had to remain strong to honour her last wishes. He had taken the princes to his own village. There he had paid a villager some money, and left the boys in their care. Over time he sent money to support them, but the younger prince died of illness. Only Zhu Wenkui was left. His father’s whereabouts were unknown, his mother and younger brother had died and now, Kong Wei was the only one he had left.
That was so many years ago.
“Do not let them die...and if you can, restore what rightfully belongs to my son...the Crown Prince.”
Kong wiped away a tear as the ghostly voice in his heart reminded him of the vow. He had spent many years preparing for this. Now, a child sat on the throne, and it was the perfect opportunity. Against a powerful emperor he had no chance of fulfilling his pledge, but against a boy, his chances had risen dramatically.
“Yes, Majesty,” he whispered hoarsely.
He got off the carriage, and walked through the forest, soon coming to an opening surrounded by bamboo where two simple gravestones awaited him. The sunlight came through in slivers, cut by the tall, slender plants. Birds sang. It was a nice, tranquil place to be buried, and to be remembered. Only Kong knew of this place, the final resting place of the empress and her youngest. Kong kneeled bowing three times, and each time his forehead touching the cold ground.
“Majesty,” he addressed the empress, “Highness,” he greeted the prince, “your servant is here. I come to bring sad news.” He hesitated. “His Majesty, your husband Jian Wen has died. I am sorry. I had a hand in it. I regret it, and I hope you will forgive me.” He swallowed stiffly. “But if I was to fulfil your last command I had no choice. I really did not. If he returns, there will be no way I can put my plan into action,” he explained softly, almost pleading.
“Please do not judge me badly. I am your most loyal servant, I have always loved your sons, even though I....I...am just a eunuch.” He felt the stab of pain in his heart. He would never have children of his own, yet he had loved the little princes as though they were his.
“I have to act soon. Powerful foes are coming. I will do my best to fulfil my vow. Rest assure that after all these years, I have not forgotten. Please bless me from above as I put my plan into motion. I am prepared to die, if need be, to fulfil your last wish.”
He bowed again, the moist earth cool against his forehead. Then slowly, he got up, his portly figure balancing uncomfortably on his arthritic knees. His greatest foes, Ji Gang and the Dong Chang, would be coming soon.
21
Grand eunuch Kong Wei waited for his informant. The news he had received that morning was too vital to be left unche
cked. He needed to hear from the horse’s mouth. Before him, a weiqi board was laid. The ancient chess game was said to be at least two thousand, five hundred years old, although no one could know for sure. It was a game with little rules, but many variations and strategies – like war. The weiqi board had black and white stones on it to symbolise the two opposing sides. The game started with the board being empty, each side placing their stones as the two sides tried to conquer as much territory as possible by surrounding the opposing colour.
Out of nothing comes form and strategy.
Kong contemplated the board in darkness. Somehow he felt safer, or at least more at ease when the clandestine meetings were conducted without light. He picked up the cup of wine and sipped, his mind running over the information he had received, and his hands became cold as the magnitude of what he planned became clearer and clearer. The consequences scared him and he took another sip of alcohol to calm his nerves and warm his blood. He had planned for so long, each step like a weiqi piece put on the board. He had started with nothing but now all the pieces were in place for him to make the penultimate move. It was not the final move, but it had to be big enough to set the play in motion for his checkmate.
Click
Another stone was put in place as he frowned. Where is the young man?
A sudden rush of fear flooded him. What if he betrayed me? He imagined the door being kicked opened by Eastern Depot agents, the devils dragging him into their pit where a confession, guilty or not, was a foregone conclusion. He would be executed in no time once they got his bloody thumbprint smeared with red ink and imprinted on his own death sentence. As a high-ranking official he had observed his fair share of decapitations and he shuddered. A tinge of fear emerged like a rat peering into a kitchen, and he quickly subdued it. He had sworn an oath to someone he loved. Treason was a horrible crime, but love was more powerful than fear and the day he had rescued the empress was the day he had fallen in love with her. He had felt needed. He had become her hero and every time he recalled her smile his chest puffed with pride and purpose.
Footsteps.
He gulped down the rest of the wine in the cup, feeling the hot liquid burn its way down to his gut like a rampaging army.
Did he come alone or with an army of imperial agents?
“Lord Kong?” a timid voice whispered. “You summoned me?”
“Yes.”
Wang Zhen kneeled before the rosewood screen. The screen divided the room into two, giving some privacy to the man who did not wish to be seen. It gave Kong some semblance of security, as though a mere piece of wood could shield him from the consequences of treachery.
“You are certain of the news.” Kong said. It was a statement instead of a question. A question required an answer, but a statement demanded accountability.
“Yes, Lord.”
“Explain how you obtained it.”
“The Empress Dowager ordered it. She received a secret message from Ji Gang by courier pigeon, and she gave the orders to go to Suzhou.”
“And you are involved?”
“Yes, Lord. The child-emperor can’t stay in the Forbidden City alone. He goes wherever his mother goes. I am to accompany the boy.”
“When?”
“When the winds are favourable for Ji Gang to sail back to the Ming. She insists on meeting him at Suzhou to settle things as quickly as possible.”
Where it is also closer to the area of trouble, Kong thought, This means the dragon lady is not satisfied with commanding her forces from afar.
She was proving to be tougher than he first anticipated. Let her come then. I’ll let you have a taste of a real war.
“Where will she be?” he enquired.
“At a safe house run by the Jinyi Wei.”
“You know where it is?”
“Not yet. The Imperial Bodyguard will never reveal it. I am only to follow the entourage.”
“Find out,” Kong demanded, voice cold. Or else....
After a long, tensed silence, Wang replied, “Ye..es, Lord.” The grand eunuch could not see the man wringing his hands in fear.
If they suspected he was a mole....
Then suddenly, out of the blue like a bird darting out of a trap, the young man asked, “Lord Kong, what do you intend to do?”
The room froze as Kong remained silent. Wang gulped audibly. He could sense the senior eunuch’s displeasure. The old man exhaled loudly as he spoke gravely,
“Does the ant question where the human put his feet?”
The young eunuch understood. He scurried out of the room, away from the man who determined his fate. Kong sat in the dark for a long time after his informant had left.
Until now all that had transpired were spoken words that disappeared like fog in the morning. Nothing was ever accomplished by words spoken in the dark. He took out a brush, laid rice paper on the table and started writing the words that would bring many lives to a violent end.
He put down another stone as Sun Tzu’s word’s came to mind.
All warfare is based on deception.
The trap was set. The ambush that would make the entire security apparatus of the Ming look the wrong way so that he could plant the checkmate. He put another stone and smiled, successfully concluding the game with a win.
Click!
22
Yin watched in fascination as the snake uncurled itself and approached its prey. He had just dropped a frog, the natural prey of the Chinese cobra, into the large urn where the scaly reptile was kept. The greenish-yellow amphibian bounced off the floor of its large earthen trap as it tried to escape the predator, looking balefully at Yin with its big, black eyes.
Yin smiled down at the frog as the cobra’s hood expanded like a deadly umbrella, momentarily blocking his view. His heart raced with anticipation, trained eyes capturing the moment the snake jerked in a blur. There was a croak from the frog before it was gone, and the snake curled itself once more in a restful repose, muscles visibly relaxing as it let its body go to work digesting its meal.
The Chinese cobra was deadly. Known as the fanchantou due to the shape of its hood that resembled the wide, flat paddle used for scoping rice, the snake had a reputation for its deadly venom and aggression, yet it usually prefered to run if it could. It was not geneally aggressive until cornered or agitated. The snake could detect enemies easily, and usually tried to avoid confrontations, but if ensnared, it will strike with utmost precision and speed.
So misunderstood...Yin mused. Why do the strong always prey on the unassuming until they’ve revealed their venom?
The slender, fair-skinned assassin continued to watch the snake with affection. Yin so wanted to give it another frog, but it was not the time. Another mission was due, and the snake had to be kept hungry.
Yin was androgynous, never really knowing whether he was male or female. He had been born with a small penis – the subject of laughter from the other boys in the village when they bathed together. He was smaller than the other boys, and deep down he had wanted to be a girl. He had followed the other village girls around in search of acceptance, but the girls did not like him because he was fairer than the girls who worked in the fields. Still, they had tolerated him, treating him with less scorn than the boys.
But it hadn’t been the other childern that had caused him the worst suffering as a youth. The greatest hurt had come from his brute of a stepfather. He was a man who planted rice and smelled like soil and sweat mixed together.
Yin could not remember how he had ended up with the man. He could only remember how the man had never failed to curse him as a burden and drum it into the young child that he was unwanted, and one night, when the bastard had been drunk, he had even gone so far as to have raped Yin. The man had stumbled back to their shack, absolutely reeking of alcohol. His steps had been unsteady and he fumbled. Yin was no more than ten years old at the time, but he had instinctively tried to help the larger man keep his balance. He had yearned for the man’s approval, but all he had
received was a hard slap.
“Get your filthy hands of me!” the man bellowed against the crack of skin. The blow had stung and the child started to weep, turning away from the drunk so that his step-father could not see his tears. What had happened next had been incomprehensible to a child, but also, unforgettable. The man grunted as he pushed the boy to a table, bending him over forcefully and pulling his pants down. He had kicked the boy’s legs viciously open so that would be spread and without another word, he thrust himself hard into the child’s anus.
Yin remembered screaming with abject terror and agony, but the physical pain had been nowhere near the stark anguish in his heart. His mind had not been old enough to comprehend that he was being violated, but his soul knew.
Yin had been known by another name then, one that he had chosen to forget. ‘Yin’, the opposite of ‘Yang’, suited him, for it was what he had become – female. The child could not understand what rape was. All he remembered was the terrible pain, and an innate fear and humiliation that had left him silent and broken inside. Yin withdrew from the other children afterwards, causing him to be the recipient of even more laughter and humiliation. The lonely child had felt rejected and had wandered the countryside alone until one day he had dicovered something that he had a natural affinity for – snakes.
Snakes were lonesome creatures, and he found that he identified with them. Initially, he started to handle common grass snakes, playing with them and even keeping them as pets. Instinctively he had known where to find them, looking under rocks, between branches, everywhere as though he shared a common bond with them. He was happiest with his reptiles. He liked the cold touch of their skin, the soft hiss, but most of all he had started to admire their guile and strength.