Chapter 8

The Prince of Lin'an's Residence

The deputy strode into the study and shoved the door open, and a thick reek of medicine surged straight up his nose. The windows and doors were sealed shut, four braziers burning at once, until the room was as stifling as a steamer basket.

On the couch, a heavy wool blanket trailed down to the floor. Huo Jingtang lay wrapped inside it with his eyes closed, resting — and even in a room hot enough to steam dumplings, his lips were still an iron-blue with cold.

The deputy said, "Reporting, General. Old Eighth Liu, the one who sold the exam questions, dropped dead more than half a month ago. The others who'd been questioned earlier at the flower tea house have also killed themselves at home. Everyone selling questions, everyone who took bribes to arrange cheating — they've all vanished overnight."

Huo Jingtang turned his prayer beads over in his fingers. "I told you at the time. You didn't have him locked up on the spot, and now it'll be that much harder to catch anyone."

The deputy looked ashamed. "This subordinate wanted to play the long game and land the bigger fish."

"In a season when everyone's jumping at shadows and looking to save their own skin," Huo Jingtang said, "did you really think they'd give you time to fish?"

The deputy bowed his head lower still, mortified at having botched the assignment. Then he suddenly remembered something. "This subordinate did turn up one more thing. Old Eighth Liu's real name was Liu Congde. He'd taken the Crown Prince's wet nurse as his sworn mother — the two of them shared a gambling habit, and both owed a thousand taels in debts. But two months ago, they each paid off their gambling debts separately, and even had money left over to enjoy themselves. This subordinate wanted to summon the Eastern Palace's wet nurse for questioning, but the Eastern Palace claims she's lost her mind with grief over her son's death. Still, before I left the Eastern Palace, I heard the Eastern Palace's chief eunuch scolding someone because an ivory tablet had gone missing for two whole months without anyone reporting it. I checked the records — the last person to use that tablet was the Crown Prince's wet nurse!"

"And there's more," the deputy said, hesitating a moment. "This subordinate sent men out to the provinces, and along the way they came across a badly wounded scholar. He'd come from Jiangxi, on his way to the capital to report that Jiangxi's chief examiner, Chen Zhizhou, had taken bribes, cheated openly, and violently suppressed the candidates protesting at the Confucian temple, crippling two of their legs — then sent men to intercept and kill the scholar carrying the petition to the throne. Our men reached him too late to save him. All they managed to bring back was a blood petition he'd been carrying, signed by four hundred and fifty-three Jiangnan candidates accusing Chen Zhizhou."

Huo Jingtang didn't move. After a long while he said, "Have someone watch Zheng You. His reach is long enough now that he dares touch the examinations even out in the provinces — and not just Jiangnan. No telling how many provinces he's gotten his hands into. If I remember their arrangement rightly, they collect half up front and refund half, holding the rest at a moneylender's until the result comes in — settled if the candidate passes, refunded if he fails?"

"Yes," said the deputy.

"If I recall correctly," Huo Jingtang went on, "the Acting Prefect of the Capital is a former student of Tenth Uncle's. Take Tenth Uncle's name to the Capital Prefecture and have him search every gambling den, tavern, and theater in the eastern and western markets — anything registered under Zheng You's name. Once his income dries up and he's short on silver, he'll go after the balance still sitting at the moneylenders. The moment he moves on it, arrest the lot of them."

The deputy hesitated. "But General — you said yourself everyone's on edge right now. Would he really dare call in money at a time like this? That silver could expose his accomplices out in the provinces. Would Zheng You really take that risk?"

"Duke Zheng's household is accustomed to extravagance," Huo Jingtang said, "accustomed to buying favor up and down the court, and especially fond of currying favor with His Majesty by proposing cuts to military funds and provisions. It's only the silver Zheng You keeps sending that's kept the Yi Prefecture army from disbanding on the spot."

Hundreds of thousands of mouths waiting to be fed, silver burned like clockwork every single day — if that income ever stopped, the consequences hardly bore imagining.

Every time the court allotted military funds, Duke Zheng and his son would leap up shamelessly to argue for cutting military pay and provisions, for trimming the army down to some "elite core," all while quietly needling the Northwest Army — which was forever whining poor and haggling over every last coin, in their telling. It never failed to make the deputy's blood boil.

"As you command! I'd love to see how they try to put on airs before His Majesty this time!"

Before even the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the deputy was already sweating and plainly unwell. He glanced again at Huo Jingtang's face, frozen bloodless, and felt his spirits sink, grief and anger welling up together. "It's only the fourth month, and the gu poison's already flaring up. Shouldn't we send someone to find Divine Physician Xu again?"

At twenty-one, Huo Jingtang had fought a battle in the Southern Frontier and taken gu poison into his body; the poison-sores it left on his face were how he'd earned the name Asura General. Ever since, in winter his body burned with unrelenting fever, and in summer he froze as though trapped in an ice cellar. The poison would not kill quickly — it meant to torment its victim without end before finally letting him die in agony.

He'd surrendered his military command and stayed in the capital, and both the Emperor and Prince Kang had sent men searching for a cure. At the border between Jiaozhi and Great Jing they'd found the Divine Physician Xu Mingbi, but even his diagnosis could only ease the suffering, not root it out. The sores on Huo Jingtang's face had been cleared, but every year, in the eleventh, twelfth, seventh, and eighth months, he still had to endure it.

In years past, the poison hadn't flared until the height of summer's heat. This year it was already the fourth month — a sign the suppressant medicine had stopped working.

"No use," Huo Jingtang said, his voice low, his words slow. He was worn to the very edge of his strength, and it took a will of iron just to stay conscious.

Never mind that Xu Mingbi's whereabouts were unpredictable and he had no interest in serving at court — after a wound to the heart three years ago, he'd withdrawn from the world entirely and refused to see anyone. He'd said before that a cure wasn't impossible; it simply lacked one ingredient: the Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber.

The Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber was rarer than the Sui Pearl or the He Clan Jade. It had once turned up in the treasure vault of Jiangnan's wealthiest merchant, but vanished four years ago when that merchant's entire household was wiped out. In all the years since, they'd sent out countless shadow guards to search for it, and found nothing.

The deputy ground his teeth, helpless.

"Go on, get out. Don't give yourself heatstroke in my room." Huo Jingtang opened his eyes, lids still heavy, and let his gaze sweep over, unhurried — eyes like polished glass set into his face, with the same pitying look as a bodhisattva's.

Heavyhearted, the deputy left the courtyard gate, this grown man's face screwing up as though he might cry — right as Prince Kang, who'd come by for a visit, caught sight of him.

Prince Kang was tenth in birth order, raised since childhood at the current Empress Dowager's knee. Though he and Emperor Yuanshou shared no mother, they were as close as true brothers, and he'd always doted on his nephew Huo Jingtang.

"Well, well. Your lord's not even dead yet and you're already mourning."

The deputy hastily bowed in greeting, then couldn't help pouring out the whole grim state of Huo Jingtang's condition before he even got around to the errand he'd been given.

Prince Kang had meant to see Huo Jingtang himself, but at the thought of his nephew suffering, the gu poison worsening by the day, he found himself too troubled to face him after all. He hurried out of the residence instead, saying he'd send another wave of shadow guards to search for the Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber.

All the while he grumbled — things had already come to this, and Emperor Yuanshou still went and dumped the exam-fraud case on Huo Jingtang. Was he trying to groom the man, or grind him into the ground?

The deputy spent the whole exchange pretending he'd gone deaf.

......

Before Zhao Baiyu could work out a way to sneak into the Eastern Palace, the Court of Judicial Review sent word of a new break in the case.

A constable on duty quietly told him that a few nights earlier, someone had slipped into the prison after dark to see Minister Wang. The very next day, Minister Wang had confessed on his own that the mastermind behind the leaked questions was Vice Minister Chen.

Vice Minister Chen, it turned out, had been having an affair with the Eastern Palace's wet nurse, and had sold the exam questions to help her pay off her gambling debts. Since the wet nurse belonged to the Eastern Palace, and since half the candidates involved in buying questions had ties to the Crown Prince's faction, the confession successfully dragged the Crown Prince himself into the case.

Somehow the latest development reached the ears of Prince Qin's faction, and at the morning court session a great crowd of officials rose together to impeach the Crown Prince, sending Emperor Yuanshou into a towering rage. The Crown Prince was cursed up one side and down the other, and even the Prince of Lin'an, who'd taken leave and hadn't shown up, was dragged into the anger — scolded for having held his post for over half a month while setting foot in the Court of Judicial Review exactly once, a plain dereliction of duty.

Still, the brunt of the fury fell on the Crown Prince. The Emperor first ordered him to examine his own conduct, rein in his people strictly, and root out anyone under him tied to the exam fraud; he was also to hand over the wet nurse to cooperate with the Court's investigation. At the same time, Minister Wang and Vice Minister Chen were both stripped of office — including every honorary title Vice Minister Chen had earned serving three reigns — the Chen residence was placed under confinement, and orders went out to investigate whether Vice Minister Chen's son, Chen Fangrong, had earned his examination results honestly.

Once the case closed, Vice Minister Chen would be executed after the autumn assizes, to serve as a warning to others.

Those words amounted to a death sentence for the man who'd once been many of the officials' teacher, and no one dared speak up to plead for him.

After the Chen residence was placed under confinement, Chen Fangrong climbed over the wall to find Zhao Baiyu and told him he meant to strike the Petition Drum to cry his father's injustice. "Every official at court can see clearly how these factions are tangled up. They know my father belongs to neither side, that he's innocent — but not one of them will step forward to call out Prince Qin for slandering even a three-reign elder statesman just to strike at the Crown Prince! Prince Qin's faction only wants to use my father to bring down the Crown Prince, while the Crown Prince's faction is scrambling to cut all ties between the Crown Prince and my father. My father's become a weapon they're both using against each other — whatever the truth turns out to be, the result is the same dead end. Unless I go to Chuigong Hall myself and cry the injustice in person — right now the only one who can save my father is the Prince of Lin'an. He belongs to no faction, and he isn't afraid of offending the whole court."

Chen Fangrong's eyes held both a plea and the resolve of a man ready to die. "Zhao Baiyu, I'm begging you — go find the Prince of Lin'an. Beg him to clear my father's name."

He knew full well what kind of man the Prince of Lin'an was, and he knew this request would put Zhao Baiyu in an impossible spot. But he was truly out of options.

His father stood at the very edge of ruin — how could a son simply stand by and do nothing?

Striking the Petition Drum wouldn't actually change anything, not unless Chen Fangrong smashed his own skull against the pillars of Chuigong Hall and traded his life for Emperor Yuanshou's need to answer to the realm.

"Stop filling your head with talk of dying. The case isn't settled yet — there's still room for it to turn. Wait. The Crown Prince is bound to strike back soon; let them fight it out a while first. As for the Prince of Lin'an — I already went. He wouldn't see me."

Just bringing it up gave Zhao Baiyu a headache.

He'd finally worked up the nerve to face down his fear of Huo Jingtang, walked to the gate of the Commandery Prince's residence with his legs shaking under him, knocked under the watchful stone lions flanking the door — and been turned away flat.

The gatekeeper took one look at who he was, rolled his eyes hugely, and slammed the door shut. After going in to report, he came back out and refused Zhao Baiyu on the grounds that the two of them couldn't meet before the wedding.

Zhao Baiyu had thought about waiting to catch Huo Jingtang on the road he had to take home, but the man hadn't left his residence in three or four days straight.

And even if he did manage to corner him, what argument could possibly convince Huo Jingtang to help save his teacher?

Even the officials formally assigned to the case were keeping well clear of it, preferring a scolding to getting involved. That told him plenty.

Zhao Baiyu waved a hand and had Uncle Wei escort Chen Fangrong home, promising, "Don't worry. If there's no turnaround within five days, I'll go strike the Petition Drum myself, all right?"

Chen Fangrong was his teacher's only child; he had no intention of letting his teacher lose his son before he'd even gotten out of prison.

He'd made the promise, but getting a hand into this case was another matter — a lowly official of the sixth rank, junior grade, had no way in at all.

With Huo Jingtang a dead end, Zhao Baiyu's only remaining option was to go to his superior.

As it happened, his superior had just seen off an important guest and was tugging at his goatee, his whole face creased with worry, when Zhao Baiyu came up and bowed in greeting.

"My lord Ji, what's troubling you?"

Prefect Ji sighed. "Someone's asked a favor of me, and I can't very well refuse. Some things are easy enough to handle, others aren't. What brings you here? It's not your usual reporting day — why come in person? Something you need, I take it?"

"My lord sees right through everything — there's no hiding anything from you, Fifth Young Master that I am!"

"Enough flattery. Out with it."

Prefect Ji was genuinely fond of Zhao Baiyu. His own career had gone smoothly these past years, and he'd been commended more than once for good proposals submitted up the chain — all thanks to having a subordinate as capable and unassuming as Zhao Baiyu. How could he not favor him? So whatever Zhao Baiyu asked of him, he was inclined to grant at least some measure of it.

"My lord, do you happen to know anyone with standing to look into the examination fraud case?"

Prefect Ji stared at him, alarmed. "Put that suicidal notion out of your head this instant! What are you thinking? If you want to build a career, there are better paths than this one!" After the reprimand, he went quiet a moment, then asked, "Is this about your teacher, Vice Minister Chen?"

"Yes." Zhao Baiyu bowed low. "My teacher is in dire trouble, and this student can neither eat nor sleep for it. If I stand by and let him die without lifting a finger, I'll never have peace with my own conscience for the rest of my life. Please, my lord, help me."

Prefect Ji looked genuinely moved. "You really are rare in your sincerity. The moment trouble struck Chen Shidao, even the stray dogs started avoiding his gate — and here you are, running straight toward it instead... Ah. I oversee the capital region's affairs, but I have no authority to meddle in a Court of Judicial Review case. And this one's no small matter besides — it's dragged in the Crown Prince himself. Who'd dare help you?"

Seeing that Zhao Baiyu wasn't about to give up, and moved by just how rare that devotion to saving his teacher truly was, Prefect Ji thought — if he did the man a kindness now, someday, should trouble find him instead, perhaps Zhao Baiyu would run just as hard on his behalf.

In a court where no one's position was ever secure, who didn't envy having a friend who'd bring you charcoal in the snow?

So Prefect Ji told him, "The Tenth Prince came to my residence just now, asking me to find a rare item for someone of importance — something called the Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber. If you can find it and present it, that person is sure to help you."

What rare treasure did the noble houses not already possess?

If even they couldn't find it, how could a powerless nobody like Zhao Baiyu possibly manage it?

The moment the thought crossed his mind, Prefect Ji realized he'd just handed the young man a fool's errand, and sighed inwardly, more than once.

Zhao Baiyu asked, "What does the Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber look like?"

Not even knowing what the thing looked like — how was he supposed to find it? Prefect Ji said, "Red. Looks like an ordinary block of moldy wood, with a foul smell. But hold it over a flame, then dunk it in ice water, and it turns clear as glass, with a strange, lovely fragrance."

Red? A block of wood? A foul smell?

Something about that rang a bell. He felt he'd seen it somewhere before.

Zhao Baiyu racked his brain, and at last remembered the thank-you gift Li Yiru had sent him. He said a hasty goodbye and dashed home, dug out the box, and tried Prefect Ji's method exactly as described. What he ended up with was a piece of the Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber — glassy and clear as a ruby, giving off a strange, exquisite fragrance.

Back at the office, Prefect Ji had barely sat down to his tea when Zhao Baiyu reappeared, practically bursting with excitement, a wooden box in hand. "My lord Ji, take a look — is this the Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber?"

Just think — not even an incense-stick's worth of time ago, the man hadn't known what the Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber even was, and now he was claiming to have found it. Surely he'd just been cheated by some street peddler, mistaking a worthless bit of junk for treasure.

That Blood Amber was a rare treasure his own teacher had spent years searching for and never found — how could anyone stumble onto it the moment they went looking?

Prefect Ji said, disapproving, "Fifth Young Master, I know you're desperate to save him, but you can't go grasping at any remedy within reach and mistake a smelly street-market log for a treasure. It's lucky you brought it to me first — if you'd rushed it straight to the Tenth Prince's residence and angered him, you wouldn't have enough lives to pay for it—"

His words cut off the instant Zhao Baiyu flipped the box open and held it right up to his face.

Prefect Ji stared at the glasslike amber, breathed in its strange fragrance, and looked up at Zhao Baiyu, whose eyes were bright with laughter.

"Well? Does this look like the Ten-Thousand-Year Blood Amber to you?"

Prefect Ji: "..." He was utterly dumbstruck.