In October, several rains had fallen over the capital, and the maple trees of Maple Mountain had turned red. By the time Shen Zechuan rode to the morning audience, he could already see the thin frost. Emperor Xiande’s illness had shown some improvement with the coming of autumn; he had resumed meals, and the coughing during morning audiences had lessened considerably.
Traditionally, the imperial hunt would only take place in November at the Southern Forest Hunting Grounds, but Emperor Xiande, worried about cold weather making travel difficult, had arranged the autumn hunt as early as the beginning of October.
“The responsibility for patrolling remains with the Eight Banners and the Embroidered Guards,” Chen Yang said as he held the sword for Xiao Chiye. “Governor, wasn’t the emperor furious last time?”
“That was last time,” Xiao Chiye replied, just stepping down from the drill ground, wiping the thin sweat from his brow. “The emperor’s anger then stemmed from concerns over security both inside and outside. This time is different. Xi Gu’an has been coldly disregarded by the Empress Dowager for two months, and now he’s desperate to make a name for himself.”
“Would small favors be enough to make Xi Gu’an act boldly?” Chen Yang glanced around to ensure no one else was nearby. “The Empress Dowager has long accumulated power, the emperor’s health is weak—whatever small favor he receives, he wouldn’t dare accept it, right?”
“You just said ‘small favors,’” Xiao Chiye said as he put on his outer robe. “What if the emperor grants Xi Gu’an enormous authority? A few days ago, he even asked the age of Xi’s daughter. Prince Chu has no legitimate consort; if a marriage were arranged, even if Xi Gu’an had no intention, the Empress Dowager might interpret it differently.”
Chen Yang said, “It’s a pity our household has no young lady.”
“Better that way,” Xiao Chiye said. “Even if we did, she would need to be someone like General Qi’s daughter, or else she would have no freedom and likely marry an unfamiliar man.”
He paused, slowing his steps.
“The Hua family has always been the first choice for palace consorts. Hua Xiangyi, raised under the Empress Dowager, is still unmarried at this age. Even the emperor dare not offend; he can only call her ‘younger sister.’ Whoever she is promised to must still follow the Empress Dowager’s arrangements.”
Chen Yang continued, “Fortunately, our heir is already married… but who could Miss Hua be promised to? Governor, I really can’t tell at all.”
“The Qi family is the best match,” Xiao Chiye said with a smile. “If Qi Zhuyin were a boy, the Empress Dowager would have already betrothed Hua San. But Zhuyin is a girl, and the Hua family has no male heirs this generation. Now they can only watch this ‘piece of fat’ remain untouched—anxious, yet powerless.”
A horse was brought over; Xiao Chiye stroked it.
“Let’s go, make a trip to the East Market of East Dragon Street.”
Shen Zechuan had just arrived at East Dragon Street.
Having been released from house arrest, he could no longer stay at the Temple of Atonement. Since no one had raised the matter initially, it had been put aside. In August, however, Qiao Tianya suddenly took an interest and went with him to the temple. Seeing Grand Tutor Qi covered in mud and seemingly mad, Qiao had Shen Zechuan open an account with the Embroidered Guards in advance to rent a proper place. By late September, he had moved into an old alley—cheap rent, fitting his current status.
“The person Master wants me to find—who exactly are they?” Shen Zechuan held the contract of servitude, reading the two characters “Song Yue,” the birthplace left blank.
Ge Qingqing scanned the crowd. “Uncle didn’t say; only that the teacher approved, and this person is to look after you in daily life.”
After leaving the Temple of Atonement, Shen Zechuan had limited ways to communicate with Grand Tutor Qi. He refused carrier pigeons—too easily discovered, and Xiao Chiye’s Sea East Blue Hawk had left a strong impression. He had to rely on Ji Gang, disguised as a servant, to handle errands to meet him—a cumbersome method.
“Should be at the East Market,” Shen Zechuan told Ge Qingqing. “Let’s go look.”
East Dragon Street bordered the Kailing River, a bustling district. To the east was a market specializing in human goods. Those selling themselves to settle debts or serve others usually came here, and households often came to select servants or maidens.
Xiao Chiye carried a roster of Prince Chu’s household, intending to verify the origins of a few names.
Stepping out of the pawnshops, he spotted a familiar nape.
“Isn’t that—” Chen Yang began.
Xiao Chiye raised a hand; Chen Yang went silent.
Shen Zechuan folded the servitude contract, a chill running down his neck. Looking back, Xiao Chiye was already leaning behind him.
“Your Grace,” Shen Zechuan said. “Why stand at my back?”
“Watching you,” Xiao Chiye said, casually handing him the roster, then stepped beside him. “Here to buy servants?”
Shen Zechuan joked, “Selling oneself—how could I afford to buy people?”
“Things have come to this point,” Xiao Chiye studied him. “Haven’t you heard? People offer high prices to hire you all the time.”
“That’s about romance,” Shen Zechuan continued. “You must have the right eye before accepting.”
Xiao Chiye laughed. “Picking out the odd ones isn’t easy, huh?”
“No match for Second Young Master,” Shen Zechuan shot him a glance. “Following Prince Chu has seen you feast.”
“Jealous? Hire me then,” Xiao Chiye said.
Shen Zechuan smiled. “Not there yet.”
They had nearly reached the end. Shen Zechuan stepped aside. “Then I won’t trouble you to accompany me further—back I go.”
“Don’t rush.” Xiao Chiye stayed put. “During this autumn hunt, we’ll need to watch out for each other.”
“The Embroidered Guards and the Imperial Guard are not of the same faction,” Shen Zechuan said. “How could I help?”
“Even so, I come by your side often. We can become allies.”
Shen Zechuan said nothing. Xiao Chiye remained behind after he left.
“Who is he here to see?” Xiao Chiye lightly traced the hilt of his sword. “Ge Qingqing… sure enough, Ge Qingqing. Chen Yang.”
“Here!”
“Go check,” Xiao Chiye said. “Check Ge Qingqing’s ancestry, all eighteen generations.”
Shen Zechuan had been too busy with duties to follow Xiao Chiye’s errands. On the eve of the hunt, he finally had a mission—escort the emperor to the Southern Forest Hunting Grounds.
One day, returning from duty before even pushing the door open, he knew someone was inside.
Feng Quan, cloaked, raised a finger to drink tea, calling through the door: “Not coming in?”
Shen Zechuan pushed open the door. The room was unlit; Feng Quan’s pale face loomed in the darkness like a wandering ghost.
He set down the tea. “We’re here on the Empress Dowager’s orders to deliver a message.”
Shen Zechuan threw his dirty robe onto a small coat rack. “Much obliged.”
“Yes,” Feng Quan said, eyes cold. He tossed an object. “If this weren’t urgent, would I come personally? You’ve enjoyed the Empress Dowager’s favor many times; now you must repay each. If this autumn hunt fails, you too will fail.”
Shen Zechuan caught the object—a pearl wrapped in cloth. Brushing his fingertips across it, he saw part of a character in ink: Lin… Chu.
He met Feng Quan’s eyes again.
“If you succeed, the Empress Dowager will still use you like a dog, sparing your life. Fail, and even living is meaningless.”
“Experts everywhere,” Shen Zechuan said. “I’ll do my best.”
Feng Quan’s gaze lingered, a mocking smile forming. He stepped out, cloak fluttering, melting into the night.
Shen Zechuan lit a lamp, standing at the table, burning the cloth. The flames consumed the character Lin, leaving only ash.
The Southern Forest Hunting Grounds lay southeast of the capital, vast in area. Half the palace provisions came from here. Half the Eight Banners were mobilized, following the emperor in a grand procession.
Shen Zechuan rode his elephant, hearing the thunderous hooves of others, knowing without looking whose horses they were. Sure enough, the Sea East Blue Hawk swooped overhead, snatching a field mouse from the grass before soaring back into the sky.
Xiao Chiye and Li Jianheng, along with a group of capital scions, rode in chaotic formation ahead. Xiao Chiye’s mount, black with a white chest, stood out strikingly.
Little Wu looked up admiringly. “Governor Xiao’s hawk and horse are treasures!”
“All wild creatures,” Shen Zechuan said.
Little Wu, restless, kept chattering. Sitting on his horse, eating sweet potato, speaking in the Huai Prefecture accent: “Brother Chuan, do you know their names?”
Shen Zechuan smiled. “Wild… just those words.”
Little Wu stretched, excitement in his expression. “The hawk is called Fierce! Hear how vicious? The horse isn’t fierce—called Langtaoxue Jin!”
He pronounced each word heavily, sounding utterly childlike, amusing the adults.
Li Jianheng, gasping, turned and said to Xiao Chiye: “Seeing him once, I can’t help thinking—why wasn’t he born a girl!”
Xiao Chiye circled his horse, looking at Li Jianheng.
“I know, I know! I haven’t lost my mind!” Li Jianheng hastily replied.
“We’re almost there,” Xiao Chiye said. “Tell me when you go out. At night, never leave the guards. Any women with you are not to enter the tents.”
“I brought no women,” Li Jianheng protested weakly.
Xiao Chiye smiled, mischievous but unspoken.
Behind them, Chen Yang rode up. “Governor, all those women were sent back.”
Li Jianheng bit his tongue, unhappy. After a long pause, he said, “Ceyan, honestly, if no one sleeps, what’s the point of this autumn hunt?”
“More than a point,” Xiao Chiye said. “Sunbathing is more fun than hiding in a tent.”
Li Jianheng sighed deeply, spirits gone, trudging onward.
By dusk, Shen Zechuan, not on duty the previous day, stayed behind doing chores. Qiao Tianya also came, calling the Embroidered Guards to eat meat.
Seeing Shen Zechuan’s bowl, he said abruptly, “You can hold your liquor.”
“One bowl,” Shen Zechuan said.
Qiao Tianya did not press further; this man seemed more of a wanderer than a guard. Using a dagger to cut meat, he said, “At the hunting grounds, eat heartily! Only once a year, palace food for this occasion; after this village, it’s gone.”
Chewing, he added, “Officials must carry swords. Tomorrow night, use Qingqing’s. Why not bring it now? Didn’t the elephant trainers teach you both ways?”
“Too heavy,” Shen Zechuan said, feigning weakness.
“Your physique…” Qiao Tianya said. “Wasn’t it ruined by Xiao Er’s kick? A pity—that was a top-class rogue, tough to cheat. Otherwise, even with that one kick, my brother could have crushed him utterly.”
The surrounding guards laughed.
Shen Zechuan’s lips twitched as he took a sip, eyes scanning along the rim of his bowl.
All carried blades.
Besides him, who else had come to kill Prince Chu? Hidden among shadows, how many cold eyes waited, unseen? Even with Xiao Chiye’s prodigious talent, under such encirclement, how high were his odds of protecting Prince Chu?
Across several tents, Xiao Chiye and Li Jianheng still drank and played dice with others.