Chương 119: Chapter 117 Interlude 20

The afternoon light filters through the windows and draws oblique stripes upon the lacquered desk of the study of Yushi Dafu Zhang Wei, where a single report rests open between the inkwell, the personal seals of the Yushi Dafu, and the small cup of tea that stopped steaming quite a while ago.

Behind that desk, Zhang Wei has his elbows resting on the wood and his fingers interlaced at the height of his chin, in a posture that, for anyone who has spent more than a few months under his command, is an unmistakable sign that something unpleasant is about to happen. In front of the desk, lined up, there are four men standing.

All wear the official garments of the Yushitai, all maintain a correct posture and all share that peculiar rigidity that functionaries adopt when they know that their superior is angry but do not yet know exactly with whom.

The Yushi Dafu's gaze, however, leaves no room for doubt about where his attention falls at this moment, since it is fixed on the second of the four men from the left, a man of middle age, pale face and an expression that vaguely recalls that of a weasel who, if the Zhāohuán were present, would recognize him instantly as Yushi Xuang, the official who only a day ago interrogated her in the study of the Ruīyī Junning in the Tàiyīyuàn.

Zhang Wei lets the silence extend just a bit longer, enough for it to be evident that it is deliberate, before speaking.

"Yushi Xuang", he says with a measured voice that only those who have worked with him too long would recognize as dangerous.

"I understand that you had the brilliant idea of presenting yourself, without prior warning, at the Tàiyīyuàn to interrogate the Zhāohuán far from her mother and while she was receiving medical attention." He makes a brief pause, just enough for each word of the next sentence to have the space it deserves.

"An ambush", Zhang Wei continues with the same tone.

"Because that, Yushi Xuang, is what it was, no matter how much in your official notes you may have labeled it as a routine deposition. And you are very fortunate, a fortune you do not deserve, that no one appeared at the Yushitai to complain officially, because if Guifei Xiang had decided to file a formal protest, this conversation would be taking place in a rather different study and with a rather less amiable ending than the one I am going to give you."

Yushi Xuang slightly inclines his head, in a gesture that aims to seem respectful but that does not quite manage to entirely conceal the rigidity of his jaw.

"Yushi Dafu", he replies to him with a measured voice.

"If you will allow me, consider that the Tàiyīyuàn was the best place to obtain a sincere report that was not conditioned by the presence of the Guifei. A deposition taken at the Pavilion of the Scent of Clouds, with the Zhāohuán's mother seated three paces away, would never have had the same evidentiary value, and you know that as well as I do."

Zhang Wei looks at him for a very long instant, without blinking, and then, without taking his gaze off him, he reaches out his hand toward the report open on the desk, grabs it, lifts it, and shakes it in the air in Yushi Xuang's direction.

"Sincere, you say?" Zhang Wei asks with a voice that has now lost its measure and acquired a sharp courtesy that is rather worse.

"Yushi Xuang, tell me, please. In your professional judgment, a report in which practically the entirety of the imperial family is incriminated, without naming them, in a supposedly illegal activity they have been carrying out for decades, is that sincere enough to have satisfied you?" He sets the papers down abruptly on his desk with an expression that suggests the question is rhetorical and that Yushi Xuang's answer is, at this moment, the least of it.

"Because what I have is a signed and sealed record in which an eleven-year-old girl explains, with admirable candor, that she decided to leave the palace without authorization because her imperial brothers do exactly the same thing and have done for years", Zhang Wei continues without giving him time to reply.

"And since this is drafted by your scribe, archived under your seal and officialized under your signature, now I have no choice but to pass it through the ministry, or destroy it and expose myself personally to the consequences of doing so." Yushi Xuang opens his mouth, clearly disposed to defend the legitimacy of his procedure or to argue the value of the report in question, but he does not manage to pronounce the first syllable before Zhang Wei continues with a tone that settles any attempt at reply.

"Until now I had tolerated your little political maneuvers, Yushi Xuang, in deference to your years of service and to the respect I owe your family", Zhang Wei tells him with a voice that has lost all courtesy.

"I have turned a blind eye more times than is convenient for my personal tranquility and I have signed internal transfers to clean up the trail of some of your more enthusiastic initiatives, but this time you have overstepped the limits in a way that no longer admits negotiation." He makes a pause, and when he speaks again he does so with the same coldness with which he began.

"Leave my study", Zhang Wei concludes without raising his voice.

"And wait at your residence until you receive news of what your next posting will be."

Yushi Xuang straightens slightly upon hearing the sentence and, for a very brief instant, his lips press into a tense line that suggests he is weighing whether it is worth replying, but his gaze crosses with Zhang Wei's and he must find something in the Yushi Dafu's expression that persuades him that any attempt to prolong the conversation is only going to worsen his situation, so, without saying anything more, he makes a rigid inclination, turns on his heels and leaves the study.

Zhang Wei observes the closed door for an instant and then diverts his gaze toward the second of the three men who still remain in the room.

"Yushi Jing", he tells him with a tone that has returned to its habitual measure, although not entirely to calm.

"Tell me what the City Guard has said about the reasons for their delay in appearing at the scene of the events." Yushi Jing, a man of slender build and a meticulously cared-for beard, takes the regulation half-step forward before speaking.

"Yushi Dafu", he begins with the professional cadence of someone who has drafted and pronounced this type of report many times.

"The City Guard maintains that they attended the scene of the events as quickly as was possible for them, but that upon arriving at the surroundings they found that at the location there was a fight in progress between two high-level cultivators against whom, according to their own judgment, they had no possibility of confronting successfully." Yushi Jing makes a brief pause, checking that Zhang Wei is following his explanation, and continues.

"According to the report of the Butou in command of the nearest post, they sent an urgent request for reinforcements to the City Guard headquarters and limited themselves to expelling the civilians who were in the vicinity to avoid more casualties", he continues.

"They only dared to approach the collapsed buildings when they noticed that the fight seemed to have stopped completely and that the cultivators were no longer in the area." Here Yushi Jing clears his throat slightly, in the gesture of someone who is about to transmit something he doesn't quite believe himself.

"The City Guard also added several excuses", he continues with a tone barely a degree drier.

"Excuses in which they insist they did not know that the Zhāohuán was in the area, and that had they known they would have attended the scene immediately despite the risk posed by the cultivators involved." Zhang Wei lets out a long sigh upon hearing the last part of the report.

"I cannot blame them either", he replies finally, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"In their place, it is probable I would have done exactly the same. To send a patrol of the City Guard against two cultivators who, according to the Zhāohuán, were in the Condensation of the Elemental Cores, is to send a dozen men to die without any useful result. And the last part of their report, the bit about how they would have attended despite the risk, file it in the place where we keep the official courtesies for the records."

Yushi Jing nods with a gesture, just enough to confirm the order without appearing to be mocking the corps in question, and returns to his original position as Zhang Wei diverts his gaze toward the third man.

"Yushi Wu", he tells him.

"What have the secret escorts who were following the Zhāohuán said?" Yushi Wu, a man of greater stature and with the appearance of someone who has spent more years in the field than in a study, takes the half-step forward with an efficiency that betrays his military past before taking the floor.

"Yushi Dafu", he begins with a firm voice.

"The secret escorts assigned to the Zhāohuán were also caught completely off guard by the explosion and the subsequent simultaneous collapse of the buildings. In their report they maintain that their first impulse was to attend the scene of the events quickly to try to locate the Zhāohuán among the rubble, and that they had in fact already begun to move in that direction when they were forced to stop." Yushi Wu makes a brief pause, clearly choosing the next words with care.

"At that very moment, from among the rubble of the building where the explosion originated, two cultivators emerged who, by the techniques and movements they observed, the escorts estimated to be at least in an advanced stage of the Condensation of the Elemental Cores", he continues.

"In addition, the cultivators made use during the confrontation of several techniques and of talismans of a level that far exceeded them. Under those conditions, the escorts evaluated that any intervention on their part would not only be ineffective in protecting the Zhāohuán, but could also prevent them from being able to bring news to the Imperial Palace." Yushi Wu inhales before continuing, since he knows that the following part of the report is the one of most interest to the Yushi Dafu.

"With not many more options, the escorts decided to do that last thing and headed quickly toward the Imperial Palace to report the situation", he continues.

"Upon arriving, they informed Guifei Xiang directly, who despite the worrying news and, according to the escorts themselves, without wasting a single instant on lamentations, hurried to organize a detachment of the Nei Wei assigned to the Pavilion of the Scent of Clouds to attend the scene of the events with the greatest possible urgency."

A small smile, almost imperceptible, appears at the corner of Yushi Wu's lip, one of those smiles that appear without permission when reporting on someone for whom one feels a certain professional respect.

"The detachment was practically ready to set out", he continues.

"But, just at that moment, a city guard arrived at the Pavilion of the Scent of Clouds informing that the Zhāohuán was well, that she had already taken charge of the situation in the area and that the City Guard had assumed the rescue and perimeter tasks under her orders, so the Nei Wei set out immediately with orders to follow the instructions of the Zhāohuán."

Zhang Wei nods slowly as he listens to the report, with an expression that suggests that many pieces are fitting into some mental puzzle he has been trying to complete for days.

"It is a rather complete report", he tells Yushi Wu when he finishes.

"Make sure the escorts do not comment on the details with anyone outside of this investigation." This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Yushi Wu nods with the discipline of a soldier before retreating to his position. Zhang Wei, finally, directs his gaze to the fourth and last man who remains in his study.

"Yushi Liu", he tells him.

"And you? Have you managed to find out anything about the dead man, about the man who escaped and of whom we have the description thanks to the Zhāohuán, or about the papers found on the corpse?" Yushi Liu, the youngest of the four and with the uncomfortable expression of someone who knows he carries the worst report of the meeting, makes an inclination that is deeper than strictly necessary before speaking.

"Yushi Dafu", he begins with a cautious tone.

"Only two days have passed since the incident and, with respect to the identities, we are barely beginning our search for people who can recognize the deceased or match the description of the fugitive with some known face. On that side, unfortunately, we still have absolutely nothing to report." He makes a pause to catch his breath and prepare himself for the even more uncomfortable part of the report.

"As for the papers", Yushi Liu continues.

"We have been able to confirm, after a preliminary examination by our experts, that they are encrypted with a concealment technique that is clearly above the capabilities of the Yushitai. Our decipherers have managed to make hardly any progress in breaking the cipher, so, following the habitual procedure for this type of case, we have referred the papers to the Sect to see if they are capable of doing it in a reasonable time."

Yushi Liu inclines his head a bit more, as if anticipating a reprimand he believes is going to occur.

"I apologize, Yushi Dafu, for not being able to contribute more in this first meeting", he adds. But Zhang Wei, instead of reprimanding him, simply shakes his head with a slight gesture of the hand.

"Two days to identify a corpse of which we have no name, profession or known affiliation is very little time", he replies with a serenity that slightly surprises Yushi Liu.

"And papers encrypted with advanced techniques are not a matter for the Yushitai, but for the Sect. You have done the right thing, Yushi Liu, keep working." Yushi Liu straightens slightly upon hearing his superior's words, and a visible relief crosses his expression before he again adopts the formal posture. Zhang Wei then looks at the three of them for an instant, and finally reclines slightly in his chair as he interlaces his fingers over his lap.

"I want your reports drafted, complete, and in my study as soon as possible", he tells them.

"And when I say as soon as possible, I mean before the sun sets tomorrow." The three men nod in unison, make a respectful inclination and, without pronouncing a single word more, leave the study one after another, leaving the room immersed in silence. And then, once alone, Zhang Wei lets his shoulders drop with a gesture that during the last few minutes he has not allowed himself to show.

His gaze drifts toward the report open on the desk, the only written report he has at this moment about the entire disaster of the imperial capital, that record signed and sealed by Yushi Xuang in which an eleven-year-old girl, with an amiable smile and an admirably feigned candor, has managed to turn an attempt at incrimination into a political minefield that places the imperial family itself in an uncomfortable situation.

Zhang Wei observes it for a very long instant and, without moving from his chair, begins to consider very seriously whether he ought to burn that report before the day ends and afterward send someone with rather more tact than Yushi Xuang to interrogate the Zhāohuán with much more reasonable questions, much more amiable, and, above all, much more conscious of the type of girl with whom the Yushitai is, apparently, dealing.

He sighs very deeply, reaches out his hand toward the cup of cold tea that rests forgotten in a corner of the desk, and drinks it entirely in one swallow, since it is going to be a very long afternoon. ★ ★ ★ The private room in which Emperor Sun Hao finds himself is a small chamber, austere, situated in a lateral wing of the main study and accessible only through a discreet corridor whose existence most of the palace functionaries are unaware of.

In the center of the room, on a low table of lacquered wood that occupies most of the space, rests the gift his daughter has sent him this very morning as an advance for his upcoming birthday.

And Sun Hao, standing beside the table with his hands resting behind his back, has been contemplating it for quite a while now, since it is a scale model of the Celestial Fragment of the Sands, executed with a level of detail that betrays the work of the best artisans of the Imperial Palace, while a barely perceptible smile draws itself on his lips.

Sun Hao knows that that same model was set out in the center of the park where Wen celebrated her tenth birthday, presiding over an absurdly themed party surrounded by statues of gods with animal heads and sand arranged in dunes.

But now he has it before him, packed with care, sent formally as a gift and accompanied by a brief note in which Wen, with her perfectly cared-for handwriting, apologizes for the impossibility of presenting it in the middle of a court reception for reasons of size and asks him to accept it as a birthday advance in private. And to Sun Hao, far from bothering him the fact that his daughter is giving him an object that has already had a previous use, it rather amuses him.

Because, knowing her as he knows her, he knows perfectly well that the gift itself is not the only thing concealed in the gesture, since the model has, in addition, a practical utility that surely will have occurred to Wen almost at the same time as the original idea. Sun Hao leans slightly over the table, examining in more detail the small pyramid at the center of the dunes, and the smile widens a bit more. That daughter of his, he thinks, never makes a stitch without thread.

The soft sound of the door opening, without the courtesy of a prior knock, interrupts his thoughts. Sun Hao does not need to turn to know who it is, since in all the empire there are very few people with the prerogative of entering his quarters without announcing themselves, and of those few, only one would have reason to present himself now. The Elder Feng enters the room with the slowness proper to someone who left haste behind decades ago.

He carries his hands clasped behind his back and wears garments of silk of a deep blue, sober but of an evidently costly finish, with the emblem of the Celestial Sun embroidered on the chest and on the sleeves in gold thread.

His face, furrowed by the lines characteristic of a cultivator who has seen two or three generations pass without great mishaps, maintains that expression halfway between indifference and boredom that seems to be the natural state of the Elders of the Sect when they find themselves obliged to deal with mundane matters. His gaze travels first over Sun Hao, then the model, and again over Sun Hao, without his expression changing at any moment.

"Sun Hao", he says finally, stopping a couple of paces from the table.

"Is this strange model the reason you have summoned me?" The Emperor does not bother to correct the form of address, since decades ago he learned that to ask protocolary courtesies of the Elders of the Sect is the quickest way to make them behave even worse.

"Indeed, Elder Feng", replies Sun Hao turning finally toward him.

"I have called you precisely because of this model." He makes a small pause before continuing, giving the Elder time to observe it in more detail, and when he speaks again, his voice has the measured tone of someone who is contributing information that has not been requested.

"What you see here is a scale representation of the Celestial Fragment of the Sands, executed with a rather notable level of fidelity", Sun Hao continues.

"The whole reproduces the known ruins, the general layout of the terrain and the main reference points." He then lifts his hand and points, with a precise movement, at the small pyramid of pale stone that rises solitary over the dunes, slightly displaced toward one side of the model.

"And this building is, according to the information at our disposal, the one that houses the room with the formation", he says marking his words with a slight emphasis. The Elder Feng inclines his body forward barely, just enough to observe the pyramid in more detail, and remains thus for a few seconds in silence. His eyes, small and dark, travel over the geometry of the miniature building with an attention that, for an instant, could be mistaken for interest.

But only for an instant, because when he finally straightens up, his expression is the same as before and his voice has the same tone of slight annoyance with which any elder would comment on the well-intentioned drawing of a grandchild.

"As a curiosity it is not bad", says the Elder Feng with a shrug of the shoulders that barely moves his garments.

"But it serves no purpose. Having the woman who found the formation to guide the people of the Sect when the moment comes, nothing more is needed." The Emperor does not reply immediately, instead, he lets the phrase rest in the air for a couple of seconds, and in those two seconds his countenance, until now relaxed, changes, since his brow furrows in a way unmistakable to any minimally attentive interlocutor.

"Elder Feng", he says then with the measured voice he uses when he wants to remind someone that, however much the form of address may not include the title, he is still the Emperor.

"That woman is the Fei Yi of my daughter. And, due to her condition, Wen needs her in order to be able to move about in her day-to-day life." The Elder Feng listens to the phrase with the attention of someone doing the favor of not interrupting, but even before the Emperor has finished closing the last syllable, he is already moving a hand in the air with a lazy gesture, like someone brushing aside an insistent fly.

"Then let your daughter go and train another person", he replies without becoming agitated.

"It is not necessary either to be too exquisite to have someone push a simple chair with wheels, Sun Hao. Any handmaiden with a minimum of discretion will serve for that task, and in the palace there are hundreds of them." He makes a small pause, just enough for the next phrase to have the appropriate weight, and when he speaks again, his tone has abandoned even the small trace of patience it had before.

"That the woman who discovered the formation should guide the members of the Sect when the Celestial Fragment opens again has already been decided by the council of elders", he adds.

"And it is a fact." Sun Hao's brow deepens upon hearing the Elder's words, and remains thus for several seconds, but, in the end, he says nothing. Because if the decision comes from the council of elders, then there is absolutely nothing that the Emperor of the Tianjing Empire can do about it.

He could protest, he could demand explanations, he could even try to negotiate conditions, and in all cases the result would be exactly the same, with the only difference that along the way he would have burned political capital that he is going to need for matters in which he can actually change something. So he swallows the reply and, instead of arguing, Sun Hao's mind diverts toward a much more immediate problem and, right now, considerably more complicated.

He will have to give the news to Wen, and that, knowing his daughter, is not going to be a pleasant conversation. However, he consoles himself with the idea that there are still eight years before the Celestial Fragment of the Sands opens again.

Eight years are an eternity for an eleven-year-old girl, and it is more than enough time for his daughter, that same daughter who is capable of planning gifts like the one he has before him a year in advance, to find, train, and promote a replacement for Wang Lianhua who fulfills all the requirements of the position. And, knowing her, it would not surprise him if she even had some solution thought out for when the moment comes, although for that he first has to tell her.

And then, just when he is about to dismiss the Elder Feng with any excuse, the thread of thought about the Celestial Fragment brings to his mind another matter, one he had been dragging along on his list of pending items for some time and which, taking advantage of the Elder's presence, he decides to dispatch once and for all.

"Elder Feng", he says turning his body toward him.

"Since we are speaking of the Celestial Fragment of the Sands, there is another matter I wanted to address with you, now that I remember it." The Elder Feng arches an eyebrow with a slight, strictly courteous curiosity.

"It is about the city of Xi'An and the man who was causing disturbances in it", Sun Hao continues.

"How did it go for the disciples that the Sect sent to look for him?" At the question, the Elder Feng lets out a long sigh, and then diverts his gaze for an instant toward an indefinite point on the wall.

"It was a disaster", he replies without further beating around the bush.

"Of the three external disciples that were sent, one died and the other two were wounded. And on top of all that, the only thing they achieved was that the man escaped." Sun Hao does not comment, letting the Elder finish.

"For that reason there are now new orders", the Elder Feng continues with a new movement of the hand.

"And the Sect is sending two internal disciples accompanied by six external disciples to make sure, this time, of capturing or killing him, as the occasion may present itself." Sun Hao nods slowly at the Elder's words, assimilating the information without allowing any comment to appear on his face.

Sun Hao mentally files away all the information, nods once more with a movement firmer than the previous one and, considering that he has already gotten out of the Elder everything he was going to get in this visit, relaxes slightly in his posture so that the other understands that the conversation has ended. The Elder Feng, who has spent decades reading this type of signal in monarchs, elders, and subordinates, catches the nuance without need of it being made explicit to him.

"If there is nothing more, Sun Hao, I withdraw", he says with a small inclination of the head that is, at the same time, the only courtesy he is going to dispense in the whole visit.

"I have matters to attend to."

"Of course, Elder Feng", replies Sun Hao with the same formal courtesy.

"I thank you for having come." The Elder Feng does not reply to that last phrase, he simply turns around with the same slowness with which he entered, travels the few paces that separate him from the door and leaves the room without turning to look back, leaving the door ajar behind him with a carelessness that almost seems deliberate.

When the Elder's footsteps are lost down the corridor, Sun Hao remains alone in the room and his eyes settle once again on the model, traveling over the miniature dunes, the scattered ruins and, finally, the small pyramid of pale stone that rises solitary over the desert.

But the smile from before does not return, in its place, a more pensive expression settles itself on the face of the Emperor of the Tianjing Empire as his mind, without his being able to entirely avoid it, begins to calculate potential candidates to replace Wang Lianhua and, above all, the best possible way to tell his daughter that the only person who understands her entirely is going to be taken from her side the day the entrance to the Celestial Fragment opens again.