Chapter 19: The Chess Game
The first year of the Zhongyuan era, twenty-eighth day of the first month.
Liu Che's injury was concealed. He claimed externally that he had fallen from a horse; Lady Wang believed it, and Ajiao seemed to believe it as well—at least on the surface. The case at the Commandant of Justice's office was still under investigation, but all leads seemed to have been strangled by an invisible hand—Chen Fu had disappeared, Wang Heng had been transferred, and the body of the lead assassin had been removed before we even returned. It was clean, as if nothing had ever happened.
But I knew someone was faster than us.
"Princess Guantao has entered the palace," Qingxing ran in from outside, panting. "She just arrived and went straight to Changle Palace."Changle Palace. The residence of Empress Dowager Dou.
I put down my tools. Princess Guantao visiting the Empress Dowager—the implication needed no guessing. Liu Che was in the study, the roll of gift lists spread out before him. He had been staring at it for a full hour. The lamp oil had been refilled twice; beside his hand sat a bowl of tea, long cold, untouched.
"Your Highness," I walked in, "Princess Guantao has entered the palace."
"I know." He didn't look up.
"Aren't you going to stop her?"
"I can't." He raised his head, looking at me. Dark circles shadowed his eyes; he hadn't slept last night either. The gift list on the desk had been flipped through countless times; the binding cords of the bamboo slips were loose. "She isn't going to complain; she's going to beg for protection. Once the Empress Dowager speaks, even Father cannot do anything."
"Then what shall we do?"
He was silent for a moment, then rolled up the gift list and tucked it into his sleeve. "Wait."
That night, he sat in the study until dawn. Through the crack in the door, I saw the lamp burn until morning, hearing the intermittent sound of bamboo slips turning, like the breathing of a restless soul.Wait. But what we waited for was not good news.
Early the next morning, an attendant from the Emperor arrived at the Eastern Palace. He did not summon Liu Che; he summoned Lady Wang. When Lady Wang returned from Changle Palace, her complexion was terrible. She called Liu Che to her side. I waited in the side hall. The doors were closed; I couldn't hear clearly, but I could hear Lady Wang's voice—initially low, as if pleading; then rising higher, becoming more urgent; finally turning into a suppressed, trembling tone, like a string stretched to its breaking point.
Then came silence. A long, heavy silence.
When Liu Che emerged, his face was expressionless. He walked to the corridor and stood there for a while. The wind blew at the hem of his robes, yet he seemed not to feel the cold.
"What happened?" I asked.
"The Empress Dowager knows about Li Yan's case," he said, his voice flat. "She said a case involving a commandery governor is not worth such a commotion. She ordered Father to hand the case over to the Commandant of Justice to conclude it."
"Conclude it? How?"
"Li Yan colluded with the Xiongnu; the evidence is conclusive. He is sentenced to be cut in half at the waist yaozhan)."
I froze. "But the evidence is fake—"
"The Empress Dowager says the evidence is real," his voice sounded as if reciting a pre-written edict. "The Commandant of Justice verified it three times; twice it matched. That is enough."
"What about the gift list? The one in your hands—"
"It cannot be used," he said. "Using it would mean tearing faces with the Empress Dowager. I cannot do that yet."
He stood by the window, his back to me. Outside was the winter of Chang'an, gray and gloomy, with no sun in sight.
"Your Highness," I said, "do you plan to give up?"
He did not answer. After a long silence:
"Lu Xingye," he suddenly said, "do you know why the Empress Dowager is helping the Princess?"
"Because the Princess is her daughter."
"Not only that." He turned to face me. "Because of the Prince of Liang."
"The Prince of Liang?"
"My uncle, the Empress Dowager's youngest son." His voice was cold. "Father made me Crown Prince; she disagreed. She has always wanted the Prince of Liang to succeed. Now the Princess comes to her, saying Li Yan's case will implicate her, and implicate the Dou family. The Empress Dowager helps the Princess not for the Princess's sake, but for the Dou family. As long as the Dou family does not fall, the Prince of Liang still has a chance."
He walked back and sat at the desk. He picked up the gift list, unrolled it, then rolled it up again. The bamboo slips made a faint rustling sound in his hand.
"This gift list can bring down the Princess. But it cannot bring down the Empress Dowager. As long as the Empress Dowager is here, the Princess will not fall. As long as the Princess does not fall, the Prince of Liang still has a chance."
He tucked the list into his sleeve and stood up.
"So, this case ends here."
"Liu Che—"
"It ends here." He looked at me, his gaze calm. But I saw what lay beneath that calm—not surrender, but endurance. Like a bow drawn to its limit, not ready to release, but waiting for the target to appear.
"What is Your Highness waiting for?" I asked.
He did not answer. He reached out and took my hand. His hand was very cold, his fingertips trembling slightly.
"Waiting for me to sit on that throne," he said. His voice was light, but every word carried weight. "Waiting for the day I no longer have to read anyone's expression. Then—"
He didn't finish. But I understood.
In the Princess's residence, Ajiao sat before a bronze mirror while a maid combed her hair. The mirror reflected a bright, beautiful face, her brows carrying a hint of triumph.
"Mother," she turned her head, looking at the Princess sitting nearby, "will the Crown Prince really stop?"
"He has no choice but to stop," the Princess sipped her tea leisurely. "The Empress Dowager has spoken; even the Emperor dares not say anything, let alone him."
"But—he still has that gift list."
"Gift list?" The Princess put down her teacup and sneered. "Does he dare to bring it out? To bring it out is to oppose the Empress Dowager. He does not have that capability yet."
Ajiao was silent for a moment. "Mother, will the matter of Li Yan really not implicate you?"
The Princess glanced at her. That look made Ajiao's heart tighten.
"It will not," the Princess said. "Li Yan will die. Once he is dead, nothing can be uncovered."
"But—"
"Ajiao." The Princess interrupted her, her tone suddenly stern. "Remember, in this palace, to live well, you must know what to see and what not to see. Do not ask about Li Yan's matter again."
Ajiao lowered her head. "Yes."
The Princess stood up, walked to her, and lifted her chin.
"You are destined to be Empress," she said. "If the Crown Prince likes you, capture his heart. If he does not like you, capture his weaknesses. No matter what, you cannot lose."
Ajiao looked into her mother's eyes. In those eyes was something familiar—not love, but ambition. Ambition is cold, colder than the winter of Chang'an.
"Mother," she said, "the Crown Prince has someone else in his heart."
The Princess's hand paused.
"That woman who repairs things?" The Princess frowned. "A craftsman of unknown origin; what waves can she stir up?"
"The Crown Prince visits her often."
"That is merely novelty," the Princess released her hand and picked up her teacup again. "Once the novelty wears off, it will be fine. You are the future Crown Princess, the future Empress. What is she?"
Ajiao said nothing. She looked at herself in the bronze mirror; that face was beautiful, breathtakingly so. But she knew some things could not be won by beauty alone. The way the Crown Prince looked at that woman was different from how he looked at everyone else. That was not novelty. That was—
She didn't let herself finish the thought. She didn't want to admit that word.
The first year of the Zhongyuan era, first day of the second month.
Li Yan's case was concluded. The verdict from the Commandant of Justice arrived at the Eastern Palace. Liu Che glanced at it and placed it on the desk.
"Cut in half at the waist," he said. "Execution in three days."
I stood beside him, unsure of what to say.
"Lu Xingye," he suddenly said, "do you know why Li Yan must die?"
"Because he was greedy."
"No." He shook his head. "There are many greedy people. Li Yan dies not because of greed, but because he knows too much. He knows how much money the Princess took, who helped orchestrate his appointment as governor, and how many hands are behind this. The things he knows are his true capital crime."
He stood up and walked to the window.
"The Empress Dowager protects the Princess not because she is her daughter, but because the Princess holds too many secrets of the Dou family. The Princess 'protects' Li Yan—no, she is not protecting him; she is killing him. Once Li Yan dies, those secrets are buried with him."
"So Li Yan must die."
"Yes," he said. "Li Yan must die. Not because of collusion with the Xiongnu, but because he knows too much."
He turned to look at me.
"Lu Xingye, do you know what this means?"
"What?"
"It means that in this case, no one cares whether Li Yan truly betrayed the country. The Censor doesn't care, the Commandant of Justice doesn't care, the Empress Dowager doesn't care, the Princess doesn't care. They care about only one thing—their own interests."
He walked back and sat at the desk. He picked up the gift list, unrolled it, and placed it on the table.
"This thing," he said, "is evidence, and it is also a blade. I cannot wield it yet. But one day—"
He didn't finish. But I saw his eyes. In them was something neither angry nor sorrowful, but colder, harder, like iron.
"Your Highness," I said, "you wouldn't have kept a piece of evidence for 'later' before."
He looked at me. He did not refute.
"You said before you would investigate to the end."
"I still intend to investigate to the end," he said. "But not now."
He reached out and took my hand.
"Wait for me," he said. "Wait for me to sit on that throne, wait for the day I no longer have to read anyone's expression. Then, I will reopen this case. Everyone—the Censor, the Commandant of Justice, the Princess, the Prince of Liang, the Empress Dowager—none will escape."
His voice was calm, but I heard what lay beneath. Not hatred, but determination. A fifteen-year-old boy, sitting in the Eastern Palace of Chang'an, made a promise to a woman who traveled from two thousand years in the future.
"Okay," I said. "I will wait for you."
The wind outside the window stopped. Sunlight filtered through the lattice window, falling on the short knife he had placed on the desk. The scabbard was black, plain and unadorned; the blade was hidden inside, invisible. But I knew that blade was sharp. Sharp enough to slice through the night of Chang'an.
The spring of the first year of Zhongyuan arrived particularly late. But I knew—it would come eventually.
[End of Chapter 19]