The third month of the first year of Kaiyuan. Chang'an.
I brought the dental charts of those wounded soldiers back to the bedchamber.
Seven charts, drawn over an entire afternoon. The position of every tooth, the extent of the gum redness and swelling, the shape of the ulceration, the degree of root exposure. I used the recording method I learned in Vancouver—the BPE scoring system, grades 0 to 4. All seven were grade 3. Same side, same position, same degree. This shouldn't be a coincidence. But coincidences, in the court, are sometimes more powerful than evidence. Because coincidences can be denied, can be explained away, can be lightly dismissed as "paranoia."
He entered while I was spreading these charts on the table. He wasn't wearing court robes, only a moon-white casual robe, his hair pinned with a jade hairpin. Exactly the same as when he was in the Linzi Prince's mansion.
"Qingyan, what is this?"
"The teeth of those wounded soldiers from Fanyang."
He came over and looked down. He looked for a long time. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, just like when he was caught stealing cherry buns in the dental clinic back then.
"Drawn very meticulously. As expected of you."
"Longji, aren't you concerned?"
"I am." He picked up a chart and held it to the lamplight. "I am very concerned. But I want to know more—what else did you see."
I looked at him. He leaned against the table, his fingers lightly tapping the surface. On the throne for less than a year, he had already learned to argue with Yao Chong in court without losing ground, learned to review memorials late into the night, learned to remain expressionless before Princess Taiping's old faction. But at this moment, he was smiling. Not a happy smile, but the kind that meant—he was already calculating.
"Longji, you knew long ago."
He didn't deny it. Putting down the charts, he walked to the window and pushed it open. The night wind from Chang'an blew from Zhuque Avenue, carrying the sweet scent of locust flowers.
"I didn't know. I just felt—something was off."
"Where was it off?"
"He was too good. Too loyal. Too good at speaking. Every time he saw me, he knelt faster than others, smiled better than others, spoke more beautifully than others. Every time I saw him, I felt comfortable. But after feeling comfortable, I couldn't remember what he said."
He turned around, looking at me.
"Qingyan, do you know how I judge people in court?"
"How?"
"I don't listen to what they say. I look at what theydon't say. An Lushan never talks about his soldiers. Doesn't say what they eat, what they wear, where they sleep. Doesn't say how many were injured, how many died, where they were buried. He only says—'Your subject guards the north for Your Majesty; your subject's soldiers are Your Majesty's soldiers.'"
He leaned against the window frame, the corners of his mouth lifting.
"Too good at speaking. So good that—not a single true word."
The Chess Game
"Then what do you plan to do?" I asked.
He didn't answer immediately. Walking to the table, he picked up those dental charts, stacked them one by one, and tucked them into his sleeve.
"I have already sent someone to investigate."
"Who?"
"Yao Chong."
I paused. Yao Chong was the chancellor, in charge of the realm's governance, not a spy.
"Yao Chong?"
"Mm. I had him go to Fanyang under the pretext of 'inspecting border armies and evaluating generals and officials.' He is the chancellor; inspecting border armies is perfectly legitimate. An Lushan won't suspect."
He paused, then added: "And Song Jing. I had him investigate the grain and supply accounts of the Fanyang army. He is the Imperial Censor-in-Chief; investigating accounts is his duty. Even if An Lushan finds out, he can't stop it."
"Aren't you afraid of startling the snake?"
"Not afraid." He smiled, "That's exactly what I want. If he panics, he'll make a mistake. If he makes a mistake, I can catch him."
"What about the military side? Who did you send?"
He looked at me, his gaze becoming serious.
"Guo Ziyi."
I paused. I had read this name in history books. He was the one who pacified the rebellion during the An Lushan Rebellion. But now, he was just a young, obscure general.
"Guo Ziyi? What is his current rank?"
"A lieutenant in the Shuofang army. I've met him once. He's an honest man, can't speak well, can't ingratiate, only knows how to fight. I need someone like this." He paused, "I had Chen Xuanli find him. Not in the court's name, but privately. I want him to go to Fanyang, to look at An Lushan's soldiers. Not to look at grain and supplies, not at accounts, but to look at thepeople. To see if those soldiers listen to the court or to An Lushan. To see if those soldiers want to go home or want to fight."
"Aren't you afraid Guo Ziyi will be discovered by An Lushan?"
"Not afraid." He smiled, "Guo Ziyi is an honest man. An honest man won't raise suspicion. And—" He looked at me, "I need someone by An Lushan's side, watching. Watching his soldiers, watching his generals, watching his sword. When the time comes, I need someone who can block him."
I looked at him. Moonlight shone on his face, making his eyes very bright. The corners of his mouth were lifted, just like when he was being chased in the alley back then—bright, cold, like a blade's edge.
"Longji, when did you start thinking about these things?"
"From the first day you told me his teeth were too white." He took my hand, "I said I trusted you. From the moment you put your finger in my mouth, I trusted you. So when you said he had a problem, I started investigating."
"Then why do you still praise him? Still reward him? Still let the whole court think you like him?"
"Because I need him to think I trust him. Need him to think I like him. Need him to think—I know nothing." He smiled, "An emperor who knows nothing is what makes a military governor feel at ease. At ease to raise soldiers, at ease to stockpile grain, at ease to—expose himself."
"Aren't you afraid the slip he exposes will be too late to catch?"
"Not afraid." He walked to the window, looking at the moon outside, "I have Yao Chong investigating his grain and supplies, Song Jing investigating his accounts, Guo Ziyi watching his people. And—" He turned to look at me, "I have you. You recorded his teeth. You recorded his soldiers' symptoms. You recorded his techniques. These are all evidence. Not evidence for the court, but evidence in my heart. I know what he's doing. I know he's raising soldiers, stockpiling grain, waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"Waiting for me to relax. Waiting for me to grow old. Waiting for me to forget. Waiting for me to think—he has no problems." He smiled, "But I won't forget. I'm still young. I can wait."
Night
That night, he didn't review memorials.
He sat on the couch, holding a memorial, but not reading it. Moonlight shone on his face, his eyes looking out the window.
"Longji."
"Mm?"
"What are you thinking about?"
"Thinking about Yao Chong. He left for Fanyang today. Before he left, he came to see me and asked how far I wanted him to investigate."
"What did you say?"
"I said—investigate until the truth. No matter what the truth is."
"What did he say?"
"He said—" He smiled, "He said, 'Your Majesty, this subject understands.' That was all he said. Then he left."
"Do you trust him to find it?"
"I do. He is Yao Chong. My chancellor." He paused, "And I have no other choice. Newly ascended, the court still has remnants of Princess Taiping's faction that haven't been cleaned up. The north needs guarding, the Tubo are still at the border. I can't move against An Lushan. Not yet. So I can only wait. Wait for him to make a mistake, wait for him to show a flaw, wait for Yao Chong, Song Jing, and Guo Ziyi to bring back the evidence."
"Aren't you afraid waiting will cause problems?"
"Not afraid." He took my hand, "I'm still young. I can wait. And—" He smiled, "I have you here. You recorded his teeth. You recorded his soldiers' symptoms. You recorded his techniques. When he makes a move, these will be evidence."
Outside the window, the moon over Chang'an rose. Shining on Zhuque Avenue, shining on the entrance of the Chongren Ward dental clinic, shining on the West Market's Hu wine shop. Shining on the person who came from Fanyang. He was probably still smiling. Still kneeling. Still saying those beautiful words. Not yet knowing that the person he thought knew nothing had already sent the chancellor to investigate his grain and supplies, sent the imperial censor to investigate his accounts, sent a young lieutenant to look at his soldiers.
He was recording. One by one. Waiting for that day.
(End of Chapter 27)