Early the next morning, the sky was still dim.
The imperial city lay under a veil of mist. Stone lanterns along both sides of the palace passage were on the verge of going out, throwing flickering patches of light down the seemingly endless corridor.
Wei Xiao walked alone and slowly along the narrow palace road. Eunuchs and palace maids on duty caught sight of him from a distance and hurriedly retreated against the wall, bending their heads in silent bows, hardly daring to breathe.
If the emperor was the heaven that ruled over all the people,
then Wei Xiao was the heaven that ruled over every eunuch in the imperial city.
He had begun as a lowly servant sweeping floors and had climbed step by step to his present position as Director of the Eastern Depot, the summit of power a castrated man could hope to attain. Those servants feared and dreaded him, but at the same time envied him beyond measure.
Today, however, Wei Xiao had no heart for savoring the authority that inspired such universal reverence.
Last night, Gongsun E had set down that sachet and left the study without another word. He had gone so quietly that all the questions Wei Xiao wanted to ask had lodged in his throat, leaving him speechless.
He had never imagined Gongsun E would have kept the sachet all these years.
Just as he had never dared hope that the nobleman who had shone like the bright moon would truly remember a wretched little eunuch.
But if he remembered, why had he said nothing when they met again?
If he had not spoken of it then, why bring it out now?
Wei Xiao was so accustomed to betrayals and schemes within the palace that he could not tell whether this old keepsake, preserved for so many years, represented genuine feeling or was merely a bargaining chip meant to exploit his weakness.
He had no answer, and he did not want to think about it any further…
“Your Excellency,”
Black Hawk, following behind him, suddenly reminded him in a low voice,
“the Silverwork Office is just ahead.”
Wei Xiao paused almost imperceptibly. Only then did he realize he had reached its entrance. He absently rubbed his fingertips together. In his right hand he still clutched the red-gold ring set with a ruby, recovered from the secret box in Shen Wanjin’s house.
These past few days Gongsun E had thrown him into emotional confusion, and Wei Xiao had left too many traces and loose ends in the salt-silver case. Otherwise, how could he have fallen into Gongsun E’s trap at court and allowed himself to be constrained so easily?
He had to establish the ring’s origin today, no matter what. If Gongsun E got ahead of him again, Wei Xiao would only find himself at another disadvantage.
A soft heart only ruined important matters.
Wei Xiao closed his eyes at the thought. When he opened them again, a dark glint passed through their depths. He ordered Black Hawk to remain outside and strode into the Silverwork Office.
“This certainly came from the Silverwork Office. It is the work of the master artisan Six Fingers, and there is a record of it in the palace treasure register. But if Senior Brother wants to establish which lady originally owned this particular ring, I’m afraid that will be difficult.”
All the servants had been dismissed from the Silverwork Office’s administrative room.
Behind the desk sat a young man wearing the dark-blue robe of an inner-palace eunuch. In the daylight from the window, he was examining the ruby-set gold ring, its surface blackened by smoke from the fire. This was Sizhuo, the eunuch who held the office’s seal of authority.
He and Wei Xiao had entered the palace and undergone castration together. Later, both had been adopted as sons by Tan Ying, the chief steward serving before the emperor. Their private friendship was close, though few outsiders knew it.
Standing in the shade beside the window, Wei Xiao frowned faintly and turned toward Sizhuo. “Everything made in the imperial workshops is recorded and preserved in the registers. How could it be impossible to find out?”
Sizhuo rose and returned the ring to him. His fair, delicately feminine face looked naturally foxlike whenever he smiled.
“Senior Brother, there’s something you don’t know. When those three rings left the workshop, I personally delivered them to the respective palaces. His Majesty was worried the ladies would grow jealous of one another, so all three rings were made with identical patterns and craftsmanship. Even the artisan who cast them might not be able to tell them apart now.”
Wei Xiao’s frown deepened. “You often visit the inner palace. Do you know whether any of those ladies has lost her ring or gone a long time without wearing it?”
Sizhuo made a soft hissing sound as he considered the question. “Her Majesty the Empress has never cared for extravagance. I’ve never seen her wear hers. Noble Consort Yin and Consort Lan wore theirs a few times, but since the Empress Dowager passed away and the palace entered its prescribed mourning period, who would dare parade around in bright colors and jewelry? Both are cautious women. They probably put the rings away long ago. The only way to determine ownership would be to search the private storehouses of their palaces.”
He paused, then added with a knowing half-smile:
“But if Senior Brother really takes men to search those ladies’ storerooms, it will cause quite a commotion.”
Wei Xiao had no patience for his evasions. “So you’re telling me you cannot find out?”
Sizhuo tucked his hands into his sleeves and shook his head regretfully, still wearing that slippery expression. “Difficult.”
Wei Xiao had known Sizhuo for years. They had both become disciples of Chief Steward Tan Ying, so Wei Xiao knew perfectly well how much the other man liked avoiding trouble. He slowly raised his gaze, speaking calmly in a way that was somehow deeply unnerving.
“Difficult? Perhaps it will be easier once I summon the Eastern Depot and have my men turn this Silverwork Office upside down for you.”
Sizhuo’s foxlike smile froze. After a moment, he managed a dry laugh. He had been playing the fool, but now could no longer keep it up. His eyes flickered, and suddenly he exclaimed as if recalling something crucial.
“Now that Senior Brother mentions it, you have reminded me of something.”
He took the ring back from Wei Xiao. Rather than weighing it immediately, he applied a little force to remove the pigeon’s-blood ruby from its loosened prong setting and placed the stone in his palm. He closed his eyes and gently hefted it, feeling for an exceedingly small difference. After a moment, he opened his eyes and murmured:
“That’s right. This is the one.”
Wei Xiao narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Sizhuo smiled. “Senior Brother doesn’t know the whole story. Although those three rare rubies came from the same mine and were nearly identical in size, how could treasures formed by nature be completely the same? One of them weighed a little more than the other two.”
“I entered the palace when I was eight. I’ve spent seventeen years at the Silverwork Office. If I haven’t handled a hundred thousand pieces of gold, silver, jade, and pearls, I’ve handled at least ten thousand. I have never made a mistake judging an object’s weight in my hand. There’s no doubt this is the one.”
He turned and picked up a tiny steelyard scale from the desk. He set the ruby on its pan and shifted the counterweight along its beam with his other hand. The delicate steelyard was smaller than a grown man’s palm. The Silverwork Office used it specifically to weigh pearls, jade, and gemstones; it was a hundred times more finely calibrated than the steelyards used outside to weigh gold and silver.
“Look. Two qian, two fen, and five li. Senior Brother can check the records from that year. The other two stones weighed two qian and two fen each. This one alone was half a fen heavier.”
Wei Xiao frowned. “This one belonged to the Empress?”
The moment the words left his mouth, he felt that could hardly be right. The Crown Prince was the Empress’s own son and was now agonizing over the salt-tax case. How could she possibly have conspired with Shen Wanjin? Even if she had, Wei Xiao could hardly have failed to hear a single whisper.
Sizhuo’s next answer confirmed his doubts. He slowly shook his head and said in a low voice:
“No. It belonged to Noble Consort Yin.”
Wei Xiao’s pupils contracted slightly.
Sizhuo retrieved the ruby from the balance, wiped it gently on a soft cloth, and handed it back. “Back then, the Yin clan wielded tremendous influence as imperial in-laws. Noble Consort Yin was unrivaled in the palace, and even the Empress had to yield to her. To show her due regard, His Majesty ordered the imperial workshops to bestow the largest ruby upon Noble Consort Yin. Outsiders knew nothing of it.”
Wei Xiao closed his hand around the gemstone, his gaze darkening. He said nothing.
Noble Consort Yin. Mother of Prince Jin.
Gongsun E had truly guessed correctly. The palace was indeed implicated in the salt-silver case…
“Senior Brother.” Seeing his troubled expression, Sizhuo lowered his voice in warning. “There are deep waters here. You must be careful.”
Wei Xiao gave a quiet acknowledgment. “I know what I’m doing.”
He paused, then added without revealing any emotion:
“Let everything about today rot in your gut. Do not mention it to anyone. As soon as I leave the Silverwork Office, pull the original register entry for this ruby.”
Sizhuo nodded slightly. “Rest assured, Senior Brother.”
Wei Xiao said no more and turned toward the door. But just as he crossed the threshold, Sizhuo’s voice called from behind him.
“Senior Brother—”
Frowning, Wei Xiao stopped. He turned his head a fraction, leaving half his face in shadow and revealing only the cold line of his profile.
Sizhuo remained where he was, putting away the miniature balance at his leisure. “Our adoptive father asked me to tell you that although the salt-silver case is difficult, it is also a good opportunity to win the Crown Prince’s trust. You must find a way to handle it successfully.”
Wei Xiao remained turned away from him. After a moment’s silence, he asked, “Did our adoptive father say anything else?”
Sizhuo smiled and sat down behind his desk again. “Nothing.”
The sun was blazing when Wei Xiao emerged from the Silverwork Office.
Harsh sunlight poured down from the glazed roof tiles. One stretch of red palace wall had already faded in the sun.
At the far end of the long corridor, an elderly eunuch supervisor happened to be leading a line of newly arrived young eunuchs toward him. They wore brand-new gray-blue robes and walked in short, uneven steps, their curious eyes unable to resist darting around.
The supervisor noticed Wei Xiao first. His expression changed, and he hastily led the boys to the wall to make way.
Wei Xiao did not stop, merely giving them a passing glance. His gaze happened to fall upon a particularly thin, tiny eunuch bringing up the rear. The boy looked no more than eight or nine, his face still sallow from malnutrition.
Wei Xiao suddenly remembered that when he first entered the palace, he must have looked much the same.
The weather had been just as hot, the road just as long, seeming to stretch forever without an end.
Outside the palace, drought had ravaged the land year after year. Corpses of the starved lay everywhere, and families of refugees trudged in every direction. Those who could fill their stomachs with bark and grass roots were already fortunate. Far more people had been driven beyond desperation by hunger, abandoning every human bond and all propriety, even cooking and eating other people to stay alive.
Wei Xiao had witnessed that hellish world with his own eyes as a child. He had believed crossing the palace gates would let him escape a world where people devoured one another. Only after entering did he understand that within those high walls was another place that devoured people without leaving their bones.
Lost in thought, he did not notice where his feet were taking him. When he finally came to himself, he discovered that he had somehow arrived beneath the very palace wall where he had once been beaten.
This place had once housed the palace incense storehouse. Later, because it was damp and received little sunlight, the stores were moved elsewhere, and the courtyard gradually fell into disuse. Weeds ran wild, and its bricks and roof tiles had fallen into such disrepair that it looked even more desolate than the Cold Palace.
For years Wei Xiao had refused to set foot here, as if he meant to carve that humiliating memory bodily from his mind. Yet today, without knowing why, he had returned one step at a time, almost as though compelled by a ghost.
He slowly raised a hand to the weathered red wall. Its plaster was rough and faded, its appearance long changed from what he remembered. But the memory itself was still painfully clear and impossible to banish.
Perhaps the blows from the punishment board that year had simply hurt too much.
Or perhaps what Wei Xiao hated most in this life was being trampled into the mud.
He had since survived countless brushes with death, suffering new wounds over old ones, but none had scarred him as deeply as the humiliation beside that palace wall.
Now he wielded power over the entire court and could decide whether others lived or died. Why, then, did the bitterness within him refuse to ease?
At the thought, Wei Xiao lowered his head and closed his eyes. His fingers tightened bit by bit, veins swelling on the back of his hand as his nails left scratches along the faded red wall. Something seemed to be battering wildly inside his chest, unable to find a way out.
“I thought I was the only one who enjoyed revisiting old haunts. I didn’t expect to find Your Excellency here too.”
The familiar, deep voice came so suddenly that Wei Xiao’s eyes flew open and his whole body went rigid.
Thin daylight lay across the overgrown courtyard.
Gongsun E stood quietly a short distance away, immaculate in his frost-white xiezhi-embroidered official robe, as straight and graceful as a slender bamboo. His expression was gentle and his folding fan half closed. He showed no surprise at catching someone in a vulnerable moment, as though he had merely stopped here by chance.
When Wei Xiao turned, an almost imperceptible smile touched Gongsun E’s lips and vanished, leaving his face composed once more.
Wei Xiao’s expression changed. His voice carried a stiffness and complexity he himself did not recognize. “Why are you here?”