Chapter B _ Fire Under Dry Wood_03

A few dozen days later, a fine snow suddenly began to fall, dusting the earth.

Year 998 before the Era of the Ashen Wheel, Deep Waters period. Logically, this snow was falling far too early.

The jade bells on the horses' necks tinkled merrily. Zhang Huaiqian, accompanying his father Zhang Huang, Under-Secretary at the Grand Secretariat, rode through the Zichen Gate, presented his fish-shaped pass tablet, and stopped his mount before the Chongzheng Garden Gate. The lead horse, a dapple-gray with a brown coat, obedient to the slightest command, immediately lay down on the ground, waiting only for its master to dismount before getting up.

Zhang Huaiqian nimbly dismounted, his book casket in hand, shook the snow from his crane-feather cloak. The snow crunched under his feet. He led his horse by the bridle to the drum-shaped stone near the main gate and entrusted it to the guard on duty.

At that moment, in front of the Chongzheng Garden Gate, there was intense but perfectly orderly activity. Officials dressed in robes of different colors, corresponding to their ranks, entered and exited like a continuous stream. Young scribes, carrying all sorts of documents and letters, hurried along, exchanging and transmitting information in this place, like thin streams that join and then separate, constituting the daily, precise, and efficient functioning of the empire's nerve center.

This place depended on the Grand Secretariat and constituted the administrative heart closest to the private apartments of the emperor of the Great Xu Dynasty, maintaining the pulse of the entire court.

Day after day, year after year, the officials of this place had to carefully sort through the countless requests and reports from all regions, extract the essentials to make summaries, and respectfully present them to the emperor. At the same time, countless crucial decisions concerning the prosperity of the dynasty and the well-being of the people were also drafted and issued from this place. They were then transmitted by the various ministries, academies, bureaus, and administrations, and the effect of their application continually flowed back, through these invisible channels, to the center of imperial power.

Under the high steps outside the courtyard, the ushers and servants on duty all displayed solemn expressions, daring not to show the slightest negligence. In front of the gate, the two majestic stone lions silently observed the incessant comings and goings of the hundred officials, adding further to the atmosphere an aura of inviolability and rigor.

Finding oneself at the heart of this intense activity, everyone knew perfectly well that the rules there were strict, the hierarchy clearly defined, and that at the slightest misstep in one's words or actions, one risked attracting unpredictable trouble.

Zhang Huang had once been the young tutor of the imperial princes. Since Chu Jin had been designated Crown Prince, he had received the title of Grand Tutor of the Crown Prince. As for Huaiqian, he had been a study companion at the Hongwen Pavilion from a very young age and, well before the imperial examinations, thanks to his father's protection, he had entered the Chongzheng Garden as Secretary to the Grand Secretariat, with the rank of seventh category. Officially to gain experience, he actually spent his days under his father's gaze, immersed in the examination of reports and documents submitted by the various regions.

He had hoped, thanks to his success in the imperial examinations, to be able to quickly leave the Grand Secretariat to be transferred to the Department of State Affairs or the Department of Chancellery, even to a fifth-category post, in order to at least escape the stifling atmosphere of the palace. In the Chongzheng Garden, although he was not obliged to present himself daily before the emperor, he sometimes had to personally submit copies of urgent requests to His Majesty. The reputation for severity of Emperor Yande was well established; fortunately, the wrath of the Son of Heaven had not yet fallen on this Zhang Huaiqian's head.

Despite this, what he desired most ardently was to be able to escape his father's omnipresent surveillance as soon as possible.

From the Chongzheng Garden, one could see in the distance the ground leading to the Shunying Palace, the emperor's residence, already covered in immaculate whiteness. Only the path connecting the imperial apothecary to the Shunying Palace was marked by a few series of footprints, more or less deep. Zhang Huaiqian's gaze turned towards the Shunying Palace. He saw the eunuchs and serving maids on duty in front of the palace gate, all looking grave, moving with hurried steps. From time to time, subordinates of the Grand Imperial Physician, carrying medicine caskets and medicinal herbs, hurriedly entered and exited the small tea room located behind the imperial palace.

Apparently, His Majesty's health was wanting.

Zhang Huaiqian nonchalantly took a handful of fresh snow from the stone balustrade beside him and covered his face with it. The icy contact made him shiver, and his confused thoughts cleared somewhat.

"Huaiqian, let's go in," came Zhang Huang's slightly hoarse voice from behind him.

"Yes, My Lord." Huaiqian gathered his wits and quickly followed him.

Outside their private residence, Huaiqian could not call his father "father," but had to address Zhang Huang as "My Lord."

Inside the main hall of the Chongzheng Garden, the space was vast and luminous. The arrangement of shelves, manuscript scrolls, tea tables, and incense burners was of exquisite finesse, giving the whole an atmosphere devoid of ostentatious splendor, without however being austere.

The roof beams were high, and a few copies of texts in regular script were hung from the deep blue pillars. Daylight, filtering through the gauze and paper of the windows with carved mullions, diffused a soft halo that illuminated the large square table in the center, covered with documents. Around this table were arranged four other desks, on each of which files piled up in mountains.

On the rows of shelves beside the desks were also arranged all sorts of documents and books; some were laws promulgated by the reigning dynasty, others were reports sent by local authorities. At the back of the hall hung an immense geographical map, on which were drawn mountains, rivers, cities, and roads, the important places being marked with cinnabar in a particularly visible manner.

Li Xuan, Chamberlain on duty at the Chongzheng Garden the previous night, was dozing, leaning on his desk, fatigue still visible on his features. On the bronze candlestick placed on the table, the candle had burned down to a small stump, the flame flickering slightly.

Zhang Huaiqian tiptoed over, took the snuffer, and gently extinguished the flickering flame. Then he took a blanket and carefully placed it on his shoulders. He nonchalantly picked up a few brushes he hadn't used yet, then returned to his own desk, adjusted his sleeves, sat down, and plunged back into the mountain of files.

"This year, the climate of Daizhou has been abnormal. The frost arrived abruptly. Barely had the autumn harvest finished, before the granaries were even filled, a severe frost fell, freezing the earth three feet deep. In several of the counties under my jurisdiction, the inhabitants were caught off guard. The meager grain reserves from the previous year are almost exhausted, and this year, the harvest was nil. They have already fallen into a desperate situation of hunger and cold. To protect themselves from the cold, within a radius of a hundred li around the neighboring mountains, the vegetation has been almost entirely cut down. The inhabitants gather to strip bark from the trees in the mountains, or demolish their houses for heating. Some even go so far as to secretly make charcoal to try to survive. However, firewood is lacking, the cold is biting, and the number of those dying from cold and hunger increases daily. If this continues, I fear that popular unrest will erupt. Your humble servant implores Your Majesty to pity the sufferings of this border region, to temporarily exempt Daizhou from taxes and corvées for this year, and to consider opening the granaries to distribute relief, in order to save the starving people and appease the region. Thus, the people of Daizhou and the entire empire would be greatly pleased."

After reading this report, Huaiqian's heart tightened. Daizhou was a cold and difficult region; disasters had been frequent there in previous years, but such an early frost and such a disastrous situation were rare. He put this report aside, in the pile of urgent documents to be processed.

Then, he took another report from the office of the Grand Supervisor of Canal Transport:

"This year, the silting in the Yingze region has been particularly severe, hindering the circulation of transport barges and delaying the delivery of grain and fodder. The inhabitants of several prefectures along the canal, who depend on this waterway for irrigation, are also suffering greatly. Your servant has investigated and found that some powerful families along the banks have either built private dikes for the benefit of their own lands, or encroached upon the riverbed and alluvial lands. Some even go so far as to evade by all means the required dredging corvées, which makes it difficult for the desilting work to progress. If one does not dredge quickly and manage the situation with rigor, I fear that this will compromise the crucial plan of canal transport for the army and the state, and will also harm the tens of thousands of hectares of good land along the river. I implore Your Majesty to promulgate a clear edict, to reprimand the concerned prefectures and counties, to severely investigate acts of encroachment on the riverbed and evasion of corvées, and to allocate special funds, to appoint competent officials to supervise the dredging work, in order to ensure the fluidity of canal transport and the well-being of the people."

This report was written in neat handwriting, its arguments clear and orderly. Obviously, it came from an experienced official who dared to speak the truth. Huaiqian nodded, circled the essential points in cinnabar, and also put it aside.

The next was an observation report from the Imperial Observatory, with rather strange content:

"Your humble servant and his colleagues observed the celestial phenomena on the night of the seventh day of this month and saw a guest star appear in the southeastern sky. Its glow was scarlet red, its trail of light measured several feet long, it did not move all night and it has already been three days. Ancient texts report that the appearance of a guest star is either an omen of good fortune or a sign of calamity. Your humble servants have consulted all the celestial charts and omen archives of previous dynasties; the position and period of appearance of this star do not correspond to any clear interpretation. Rumors are already circulating among the people, and spirits are somewhat troubled. Your humble servant dares not pronounce on the good or bad omen and hereby informs you. I implore Your Majesty to decide whether it is appropriate to organize a fast and prayers, or to order the hundred officials to govern with diligence and love the people, in order to respond to the will of Heaven, to dispel calamities and attract harmony."

The court had always attached extreme importance to this kind of report concerning celestial phenomena. Zhang Huaiqian frowned slightly. Although these matters seemed vain, they were often closely linked to the political situation and the state of mind of the people, and their treatment required particular prudence. He also classified this report in the category of those that had to be submitted with special attention.

"...The Prince of Liang has recently welcomed many clients and recruited sages from all regions; his dwelling is full of guests from morning till night. Moreover, he maintains close relations with the Prince of Jiujiang, frequently exchanging letters and gifts..."

Among these reports, sometimes urgent, sometimes tedious, sometimes strange, were also a few missives from local officials presenting their respects, minor civil disputes, and even secret denunciations of officials attacking each other. All sorts of documents converged here, waiting to be examined, annotated, to finally influence every corner of this vast empire.

Zhang Huaiqian was already tired, his eyelids heavy. He was about to close his eyes to rest when he came across a copy of a report bearing the inscription "Your humble servant, Zhang Huang, respectfully submits." He started and woke up completely – his own father's report was now in his hands. He hastened to compose himself, his gaze falling on that familiar, still vigorous handwriting –

"...Concerning state finances, although there has been a surplus of grain in recent years, due to the needs of border defense and internal and external works, the financial resources of the public treasury have gradually become insufficient. If one does not have sufficient means to allocate them, I fear it will be difficult to maintain the situation in the long term. Your humble servant suggests establishing a system of provincial taxation and strengthening commercial exchanges, in order to ensure the smooth functioning of finances..."

"Well, so that's what father was busy with last night, to the point of not having time to talk to me," Zhang Huaiqian muttered to himself.

Zhang Huaiqian did not look up. He took the paperknife from the table, broke the wax seal of the secret missive, unfolded the paper inside, and quickly scanned it. The secret report essentially said: "During the inventory of the capital's arsenal, it was found that two hundred long lances and one hundred bows and crossbows were missing. Their trace is lost, their destination unknown. The investigation conducted so far has yielded no results. It is feared that this weaponry has already been surreptitiously removed from the arsenal. Irregularities are suspected in the accounts of the Elite Cavalry Camp."

After quickly reading the message, Huaiqian nonchalantly tossed the strip of paper into the brazier at his feet. Then, he dipped his brush in the thick ink, his wrist suspended in the air, and quickly traced fluid and vigorous characters on the fine-grained Xuan paper.

Time passed without anyone noticing, until Zhang Huang, looking through a file, asked Lu Jingchu, the Referendary Secretary beside him, in a detached tone: "Did you see His Majesty yesterday?"

Lu Jingchu, continuing to examine some documents, replied with a low "mmm" without even looking up.

"His Majesty... how is He?"

Lu Jingchu: "Yesterday, His Majesty did not summon us into His presence. It was only from behind an imperial yellow screen that He exchanged a few words with your humble servant. After submitting the prepared summary of reports, your humble servant withdrew in accordance with His orders and could not see the Holy Face."

Hearing this, Zhang Huang remained silent for a moment, a flicker of worry passing through his eyes. He slowly rose, walked over to Chamberlain Li Xuan's desk on the other side of the hall, and lightly tapped the table with his fingertips. The sound of these taps, in the silence of the main hall, seemed quite distinct. Li Xuan, who was dozing leaning on his desk, was awakened. He opened slightly still sleepy eyes, rubbed his eyes with a somewhat confused air, and looked at Zhang Huang.

Zhang Huang lowered his voice and asked: "Zhongze, last night, here at the Chongzheng Garden, did we receive His Majesty's replies to the reports submitted in recent days?"

Addressed thus, Li Xuan seemed to fully emerge from his torpor. He remained stunned for a moment, then nodded, opened a drawer behind him, took out a pile of neatly arranged files which he handed to Zhang Huang, and replied: "Oh, My Lord, His Majesty's replies are all here."

He yawned and continued: "Only, last night, the palace sent them very late, it was almost after midnight. Your subordinate spent the night sorting and transcribing these decrees one by one. This morning, before dawn, they were already sent, in accordance with regulations, to the Department of State Affairs for examination and countersignature."

"Sent so late?" Zhang Huang took the pile of heavy files, flipped through a few pages at random and, seeing the emperor's cinnabar handwriting, his eyebrows furrowed even more.

The afternoon was reserved for the meeting of the high officials of the Chongzheng Garden. This kind of high-level meeting hardly concerned lower-ranking officials like Huaiqian. After finishing the documents that absolutely had to be processed the same day, and seeing that his father and several other dignitaries had retired to an adjoining room to deliberate, Huaiqian lingered no longer. He packed his book casket, briefly took leave of his familiar colleagues, went directly out of the Chongzheng Garden, and headed towards the palace gate to retrieve his horse and go home.

This oppressive palace city, he did not wish to stay in it a minute longer.

The afternoon following the light snowfall had draped the multiple pavilions of Jinxiujing in a light misty veil.

Ardashir walked alone and slowly in the street. His Gönok robe highlighted his tall stature and attracted a few curious glances from passersby. He strolled at his leisure and, without realizing it, arrived in front of an imposing-looking residence.

Large vermilion-lacquered gates, two majestic stone lions in front of the entrance, and on the lintel, a plaque bearing the inscription "Zhang Residence." It was Zhang Huaiqian's home.

Ardashir remembered that Wei and Rong had spoken of it that night.

Since he was passing by, he might as well go and pay his respects.

Ardashir advanced a few steps and gently addressed the few servants guarding the gate, his Xu language, tinged with a slight foreign accent, being clearly understandable: "Excuse me, would there be in this dwelling two pretty young ladies? I am their friend, Ardashir."

The servants looked him up and down. Seeing his appearance of a barbarian from the borderlands and the fact that he was alone, an arrogant air painted itself on their faces. One of them, who seemed to be the leader, waved his hand impatiently and said in a very unfriendly tone: "Go on, go on, what Ardashir or Arshat-sir, are the ladies of our dwelling people you can question like that? Leave quickly, don't stand there getting in the way!"

Ardashir was slightly surprised, but not really angry. He was about to reply with a few words to explain that he also knew Zhang Huaiqian when he heard the clear sound of horse hooves approaching.

"Whoa!"

A magnificent black horse stopped not far in front of the residence gate. The rider, with an agile figure, dismounted with a clean and precise movement. It was Zhang Huaiqian, returning from the Chongzheng Garden at the palace. He entrusted the reins to the groom who had stepped forward, gave a few instructions in passing and, looking up, noticed this somewhat strange scene in front of his own door: a tall, familiar figure of a barbarian from the borderlands was talking to his servants, while the latter displayed a disdainful air.

"Gönok King?" came Zhang Huaiqian's slightly surprised voice, as he quickly approached.

He immediately recognized Ardashir. Then, seeing the insolent air of his own servants and the hint of helplessness on Ardashir's face, he immediately understood three-quarters of the situation. A wave of heat instantly rose to his cheeks, mixed with embarrassment and apology.

"You servants, have you eaten bear's heart and leopard's gall? How dare you be so disrespectful to His Majesty the Gönok King!" Zhang Huaiqian's face darkened. In a few steps, he approached, first reprimanded these unconscious servants in a low and severe tone, then immediately turned to Ardashir, bowed deeply to the ground, and said, his face covered in shame: "May Your Majesty forgive me! It is Huaiqian who manages his house poorly. My servants are stupid and did not recognize Mount Tai, thus troubling Your Majesty. I am sincerely sorry and hope Your Majesty will forgive me."

The servants, who had still displayed a defiant arrogance a moment before, hearing that this barbarian from the borderlands was actually a king, were seized with panic. Their legs gave way and, "plop, plop," they fell to their knees, prostrating themselves like rice pestles and repeatedly begging for mercy: "May Your Majesty forgive us! May Your Majesty forgive us! We had our eyes covered!"

Ardashir made a nonchalant gesture with his hand to signify they shouldn't worry, then turned back to Zhang Huaiqian, his face wearing its usual affable smile: "Brother Zijing, it's not that. It was I who came unannounced; it is normal that the servants of your dwelling do not recognize me. It is not their fault." He paused and explained: "I was passing by here and, remembering Miss Wei and Miss Rong, I wanted to inquire after them in passing."

Hearing Ardashir mention his sister and Rong, Zhang Huaiqian's expression became slightly complex, but, his friend being present, he accepted this gesture and apologized again: "Your Majesty is of great magnanimity. Only... today is really a bad time."

"Oh? They are not here?" Ardashir asked in passing, then, seeing Zhang Huaiqian's slightly tired air, he added with solicitude: "Is Brother Zijing just returning from the palace?"

Zhang Huaiqian adjusted his attire slightly and explained: "I have just returned from the palace. I intended to change before going to visit His Highness the Crown Prince." Changing the subject to family matters, his tone was tinged with a certain resignation: "As for my younger sister Wei... alas, she has had a little too much fun these past few days, my father reprimanded her and has confined her. I'm afraid she won't be able to set foot outside the residence for quite some time."

Hearing this, Ardashir, remembering Wei's lively, playful, and sometimes surprising character, couldn't help but smile.

"And Miss Rong? Was she punished too?"

"No, not her," replied Zhang Huaiqian after a moment's thought. "Rong, this morning, it seemed to me I saw her go out with the steward to buy some provisions. She also likes peace and quiet normally. If she's not shopping, at this time of the afternoon, she might be strolling in some of the bookshops near the West Market."

"Bookshops?" Ardashir's eyes lit up slightly. He clasped his fists towards Zhang Huaiqian and smiled: "Thank you for the information, Brother Zijing. Since it is so, I will not trouble you any longer. I am just going to take a look around the West Market."

Zhang Huaiqian nodded with a smile: "Very well. May Your Majesty take your time. Another day, Huaiqian will not fail to prepare a modest wine to apologize to Your Majesty and converse at leisure."

After taking leave of Zhang Huaiqian, Ardashir, his heart light, turned, got his bearings, and quietly headed towards the West Market. The streets of Jinxiujing, under the sun after the snow, seemed even more prosperous and lively, filled with the hubbub of the crowd. He easily wove his way among the busy passersby, his mind already discreetly sketching the image of Dugu Rong, dressed in a simple green robe, standing peacefully amidst the bookstalls, absorbed in her reading, serenely beautiful.