by Jeremy Han
“His name is Tayji?” Yang asked as he motioned at Baldy.
“No. Tayji means prince. He is descended from the line of the Khans. We are the remnant of his tumen. We were the vanguard. When the Ming cut us off and the rest of the nobles submitted, Tayji led us south.”
A tumen was a unit of ten thousand men, and Yang looked at the small gathering. Over the years it had indeed been whittled down to these few survivors. Tonight’s fight was not just a raid. it was a catharsis. He knew men like that did not mind dying. What they could not stand was dishonour.
“A prince?” Yang remarked.
“Yes. He could have left with royalty or surrendered, but he did not abandon his men.”
Yang felt something tug in his heart. Prince... why did that word stir something in his soul? A prince – a warrior-leader who commanded loyalty and respect. Whose men followed him into hell and back.
The bald man walked over, his face aglow. He was ready, and Shaggy stiffened his back at the approaching Mongol. “Tayji!” he announced stiffly. The prince clapped his friend on the shoulder, and Yang’s earlier impression of Baldy as a foul-breathed, unwashed barbarian was gone. He pictured the man sitting on a horse with a fur coat draped over his armour, and he saw in the tayji’s eyes the readiness for war.
38
“You say Jian Wen was assassinated?”
“Yes, Majesty,” Ji Gang said as he recounted the events of that night. “And the assassins were eunuchs.”
“How do you know?” the empress dowager asked. Concern caused her eyes to narrow into slits. What Ji Gang was saying had serious implications on her own security.
“I checked their corpses.”
“Then we are compromised. Our location tonight may not be secure.” The empress dowager’s voice was heavy with concern. Foremost on her mind was the safety of her son.
“I doubt it,” Ji Gang said resolutely.
“Explain.”
Ji Gang told her about the drowning of the eunuchs at sea. He did not sound the least bit concerned what the empress dowager would say to this execution of men who were probably innocent, and when he had finished, she nodded her head in agreement.
“That was very professional of you, Commander. You think of every possibility.”
Ji Gang dipped his head to acknowledge the compliment, then said, “Majesty. There are two men I must introduce to you.”
“Who are they?”
“They were Jian Wen’s bodyguards, the very men who outwitted me all those years ago.”
“Why are they here?” Surprise laced her tone.
“It was Jian Wen’s dying wish to find Zhu Wenkui.”
She glared at him. “I did not authorise you to do that, Commander.”
“Majesty, do you trust my judgement and my loyalty to the House of Zhu?”
There was a pause as she softened her expression. “Of course I do,” she said, dropping her voice lower. “In fact, if what you said about the eunuchs is true then you are my only ally, my only protector.”
“These men... they remain totally loyal to Jian Wen. They have no interest in the intrigue, and only want to fulfil their dying master’s wish. I fear they are the only ones I could trust because they have no agenda except to find Zhu Wenkui if he truly lives.”
She took a deep breath, finally understanding the situation. “There are really so few you trust? You believe in your foe more than the court?” She laughed bitterly. “How ironic, Ji Gang. Just like I trust my son’s great-grand uncle, whom I have never met, who is not even supposed to exist, more than anyone in the palace because I do not know how deep the conspiracies run.”
“Majesty, currently I trust no one. Especially those who are closest to you.”
She sighed. “Summon them then,” she said as a slight headache crept through her skull. The fatigue from travelling and the weight of the problem was beginning to wear on her.
After awhile, the two warriors appeared before the queen mother. They knelt and said with little conviction, “Ten thousand years! Long live your Majesty.” She frowned at their insolence.
“I asked you to bring me an emperor, but you brought me two of his guard dogs,” she said turning to Ji Gang, her nostrils flaring in irritation.
Ji Gang’s face remained expressionless. “Majesty, they are more like…tigers than dogs.”
“You are sure about them?”
“Absolutely.”
She looked at the two men and her powdered face wrinkled with disgust. In her mind imperial bodyguards were imposing men in ox-blood uniforms and knee high leather riding boots. They were the elite, feared by everyone. She was surrounded by Jinyi Wei every day, and as empress dowager she acknowledged their presence as much as she would greet a pillar. But that did not mean that as a woman, she failed to notice their statue and physiques. In contrast these two middle-aged men looked like peasants in their cheap, cotton tunics and borrowed coats. The one named Zhao looked plain, and he did not have Ji Gang’s commanding air.
He commanded Jian Wen’s bodyguard? He defeated the legendary Ji Gang and evaded his wolves?
Her eyes shifted to Li Jing, the Acrobat. Compared to Ji Gang and Zhao he was small, yet the aggression that shone through his eyes made her feel uneasy. The fighter in him was evident, but there was something more than that. The Acrobat had that effect on others, and people found him creepy and enigmatic. He did not have many friends, or rather, many surviving ones. She hesitated, trying to bring herself to address people so far beneath her.
“You wish to find Zhu Wenkui.” It was a statement.
Zhao, as commander, answered, “Yes, Majesty.”
“And when you find him?” she asked as her bright red lips moved.
“Take him back to tend his father’s grave.”
“He must be executed,” she stated, her voice cold.
“We will see about that.”
Anger shot through her like a bolt of lightning as she slapped the table. How dare they defy me!
“Fang shi! ‘How rude!’ Rebellion is punishable by death! You dare defy me too?” She pointed a red fingernail at them accusingly.
Zhao was unfazed by her outburst and Li had no expression on his face.
“Majesty, your fight is not ours," Zhao replied her calmly. "We are here only because it was our master’s dying wish. Our interest coincides at the moment, but only to determine if Zhu Wenkui is alive or not. We will track him with the Eastern Depot until we find him.” He paused for a moment before continuing on, “and I believe that only we will be able to confirm if he truly is the crown prince, for the House of Zhu had obliterated the records of the prince’s existence.”
“How?”
Zhao remained silent. The answer was obvious: if she knew they would not be needed anymore.
How clever! Ji Gang thought. Zhao had turned the table on the empress dowager, using what the court had done against itself. The lack of records proving who Zhu Wenkui was would affect the investigation, even the queen mother could see that.
Ji Gang was a realist. He cared not for her majesty’s opinion on how he should conduct his investigations, she was after all a court lady, not a soldier or an imperial agent. But he did care about the mystery that was eating up the empire little-by-little like a cancer. It was the Eastern Depot’s job to eliminate it, and to do that he needed the help of his former foes. He was not afraid of fighting them, but it was also not in his interest to turn them into enemies at this moment. He had too many unseen ones already.
Ji Gang interjected before she had the two men arrested for insolence. Nobody in the empire could ignore the power behind the throne and keep his head on the neck. Ji Gang also knew these two would not go down without a fight, and it would be ugly. Very ugly.
“Majesty," he said, "I brought them here, and at the right time I will account to you. Trust me, you will not be disappointed. I only ask that you put your trust in my judgement.”
Her chest heaved as she sought to control her ang
er. Ji Gang would deal with them, but she felt powerless. Doubt flashed through her mind. You are only a woman.
A woman has her means too! she rebutted the negative voice.
“What is your plan?” she demanded.
“If our enemy really has sources within the system, then any imperial agent or Jinyi Wei we send will be detected," Ji Gang explained. "Any action we take through official channels will be leaked. We need people our foe cannot recognise, so that they could uncover things that we otherwise would not be able to find out.”
She remembered what he had told her about the assassination attempt on the ex-emperor even though he had been a recluse in a faraway place. Ji Gang’s journey south was a secret. Whoever knew about it must be close, too close to me.
A frown creased her face, and she closed her eyes for a second as she fought against the doubt that rose again like a snake from the pit of her gut. She concluded that the commander of the Eastern Depot had already thought through this, and that there was no point fighting him on it. Her admiration for his professionalism rose, and she realized just how much she really needed him. For her son’s sake, Ji Gang must never be made into an enemy.
“If you say so Commander Ji Gang. Because of your loyalty to the throne, I will listen to you this once.”
And I will make sure you will never betray me, she thought.
With a tone colder than the autumn chill she addressed the other two men. “I will take Ji Gang’s recommendation, but know that results are expected from you. You are dismissed.” Turning to the secret agent, she said, “Commander, you stay.”
When they had left the empress dowager sighed. As the anger left her she looked dejected and vulnerable. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, muttering, “Why is it so hard to trust anyone?”
“They are the best, Majesty. They are the only ones who bested the Eastern Depot, otherwise I would have killed them long ago.”
“I wish I had men as loyal to me as they are to Jian Wen.”
Ji Gang knelt, he looking up at her. “Majesty, you have me,” he said.
Those eyes.
A sudden coldness came over her as she hardened her resolve. She recalled the time she had done unpleasant things to a eunuch to win his favour, so that he would arrange for her, a mere concubine, to visit the emperor’s bed. Contrary to popular belief, castration did not eliminate a eunuch’s sex drive, the mutilation merely preventing them from impregnating woman. Some of the devious ‘half-men’ used their positions to extract favours from desperate concubines. Desperate times required difficult measures, and for her son she would do anything.
Play the vulnerable lady, and reel him in like an insect falling into a spider’s web.
“Fortunately I do have you Commander. Otherwise, I would not know what to do. I am…only a woman.” The tears in her eyes gleamed in the candle light. In a soft, quivering soft, she said, “Hold me.”
“Majesty?” Ji Gang said, blinking in disbelief.
She looked deep into his eyes. “Forget I am the empress dowager," she said. "I am just a woman tonight, who needs a strong man to protect her.”
“It...it is wrong, Majesty,” Ji muttered from his dry throat.
“My husband is dead. I am so lonely...and afraid.”
She held out a hand to him, soft, pale and small, and he took it tenderly as though he was holding a delicate lily.
39
“That was a ‘good’ meeting with the empress dowager,” Li remarked, sarcasm in his voice as they sat around the table in their room. The solitary candle’s soft glow cast long shadows of them against the wall, making made them look bigger than they actually were. He poured a cup of steaming tea for Zhao before wrapping his own hands around his cup to soak up its warmth.
“What would you do, if the empress dowager had us arrested just now?” Zhao replied.
“You mean for your insolence? Honestly, Commander, you were always respectful of royalty.”
“Our loyalty does not extend to her,” Zhao replied pointedly.
“That does not sound like you.”
“Fifteen years of being free has changed the way I think.” He stretched his arms as though to indicate the lack of restraint. “To tell you the truth, Li,” he said, taking a drink before continuing, “I keep wondering.... What are we fighting for?”
Li looked at him sadly. “I know what you are fighting for... your conscience,” he said hesitantly.
“What do you mean?”
“You never forgave yourself for abandoning the crown prince.”
Zhao could not deny that. He still heard the shrill, childish voice cry out ‘FATHER, DON’T LEAVE ME!’ whenever he closed his eyes.
“So what would you have done?" Zhao repeated. "If she had had us arrested?”
“I would stand by, and watch your sorry ass get hauled away,” Li said simply. He exuded an air of indifference.
“You wouldn't resist?” He lightly punched his comrade in the arm. “Come on….”
“I probably would,” Li admitted grudgingly.
“You are worried too. Old age has mellowed you. You used to be the hot-headed one,” Zhao teased. “All that talk about Li Po having grown up and not needing you anymore is bullshit, right? You want to return to your daughter.”
“Look. If I want to die, I would want to die nobly, like saving another’s life. I don’t want to die for your stubbornness,” the Acrobat retorted.
“But you would fight eh?” Zhao pressed. The he added with a tone devoid of all jocularity, “It is touching to know I have you watching my back.”
Li snorted. “Just don’t waste it.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
Li looked back at him seriously. “I never forgot the time you marched into the marquis’ palace to save Li Po, Commander.”
Zhao looked at the man sitting in front of him, and images of their history flew by. Not only of the Acrobat, but of all the warriors who had fought by his side. All of them had died, and now only the Acrobat remained. His last surviving friend had seen what Zhao needed – a catharsis, and he had marched into hell with him to help him find his peace. It was a sobering thought, but Zhao could not help but wonder where he was leading his friend to.
Leadership…he thought, is a curse. But what about friendship? Was he blessed to have a friend like Li, or was Li cursed to serve under Zhao? Was it leadership or friendship that brought Li all the way here with him?
As Zhao pondered Li did not care about the moral dilemma his commander was going through. He yawned and stretched like a cat before he walked over to the bed and lay down on it.
“Hmmmm….this is better than anything I have ever slept on,” Li murmured. He had been a soldier, a street performer and a fugitive, but none of those had ever allowed him the privilege of sleeping comfortably. He moaned as his muscles relaxed, and continued speaking with his eyes closed.
“Don’t blame yourself, Commander. You have given me the chance to sleep on a royal bed at least once in my miserable life. If I die, I will go happy.” He was soon fast asleep and his snores rocked the room.
Zhao watched his friend doze off. He blew out the candle, and darkness descended over the room like a cloak. He walked to the window and opened it, letting in a gush of cold, fresh air. The sleeping man pulled the blanket tighter and muttered a swear word. Through a gap, Zhao noticed that Li still had his boots on. He might have been asleep, but he expected danger to come anytime. They had spent so many years as fugitives that such little things had become second nature.
The commander envied his friend. At the end of all of this Li had a daughter to return to. Love was a strong incentive to live, but Zhao had no one. Only two things kept him alive; his own self-preservation and a sense of duty. He sighed to himself.
Have I truly wasted my years? he wondered.
Gripping the window sill he stared into the distant purplish darkness. A flash of lightning illuminated the misty valley that stretched below them and he could not see
very far into the hanging water vapour that seemed to drape over the countryside like a velvet table cloth. The rolling thunder followed, like a giant calling out from afar.
It started to rain.
40
In a separate chamber Wang Zhen sang a childhood song, learnt by heart, as he comforted the boy-emperor, who was asking for his mother. The boy was reluctant to sleep alone in a strange environment so the young eunuch had stayed with him. His voice, slightly high-pitched and out of tune lulled the child.
The castrate was exhausted after the long travel too. He still felt the vibrations of the carriage in his bones, and he longed to get a warm bath before he slept. But a eunuch’s life, especially one that was focused entirely on the emperor, was hardly awarded with personal time, especially when dealing with a spoilt child who did not understand that, like all human beings, even slaves needed to rest.
But the emperor had insisted, even pulled at his sleeve to urge the eunuch to sing to him, the same as he always did at the palace. So, the tall, skinny eunuch did as he was ordered. He had fed the emperor, changed his clothes, blew out the candles and sat by his side, singing in a way that relaxed the boy.
As he watched the emperor sleep Wang sighed with relief. Throughout the journey he had expected something to happen. In the back of his mind he had believed Kong Wei had something up his sleeves, and yet nothing had happened. They were safe now, ensconced in a discreet and impregnable villa guarded by Jinyi Wei that never slept. His worst fears did not materialise.
Or maybe I had misjudged him. Maybe he just wanted to know….But information that could cost me my life could not be for nothing….
He took a deep breath as he pondered in silence. Something about all of this was not right. All the spying he had done for the grand eunuch could not be for his mere curiosity. But he could not fathom the ocean-deep motives of his patron.