Heaven is boundlessly high
Earth is endlessly deep
between are living things
dependent on these Powers
butting heads over food and clothes
making plans to eat each other
still unclear about cause and effect
blind men asking the colour of milk
- poem by Hánshān (寒山 - 'Cold Mountain') (trans. Red Pine)
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There were two guilty faces in the gathered assembly.
There would soon be three.
"Dear Lords and Ministers," Zeyi said pleasantly, "I have called you here as some interesting news has come to my attention."
The third face was beginning to show the first signs of unease.
"There are some elements of the court who are... not pleased... with my reign."
The Minister of the Imperial Servants, a round man with a long narrow moustache like the whiskers of a catfish, stood immediately and bowed to Zeyi. "Then these elements must be punished immediately, Your Majesty."
Zeyi smiled gently at his enthusiasm. "Perhaps that would be the case under the benevolent leadership of the previous Regent. However, I am a supporter of spirited debate and discussion. I would rather invite those with concerns to come forward and discuss them with me. But thank you, Minister."
The Minister bowed and sat again, feeling as though he should feel more chastened, rather than like a puppy whose head had been gently patted.
"So," Zeyi continued, her eyes sweeping the room, settling amicably on each Lord and Minister one by one, "I would like to now invite anyone who wishes to raise any issues, to come forward now."
She was greeted by silence. Most of the Ministers looked questioningly at each other. There was clearly something going on, but no one was entirely sure what. Zeyi waited patiently.
At last, the Household Minister to his feet. "Your Majesty, would you perhaps be willing to give us some guidance on what it is exactly that you wish us to speak about?"
"Household Minister," Zeyi replied pleasantly. "I am happy to provide you guidance. In fact, you get along with Sir Cheng, do you not? Sir Cheng, could I trouble you to explain?"
Cheng Guk Lung cleared his throat and replied in a girlish tone, "Certainly, Your Majesty."
The Lords and Ministers stared at him. Had he gone mad?
Only the Household Minister's face turned green.
"Yuè Yuè," Cheng Guk Lung said, in the same strange voice, "I'm afraid my voice is still a little hoarse. But thank you for taking me to the Academy yesterday. You were very courteous."
The Household Minister immediately lunged forwards.
Cheng Guk Lung knew he was moving backwards too slowly to avoid the blade in the Minister's hand, coming towards his face. It stopped, a hand's-breadth from his nose.
Zeyi, upright, was gripping the Minister's wrist with an iron grasp. The Household Minister struggled wildly at her, but couldn't move.
"Minister, I thought Sir Cheng was your friend. Is this how you treat friends? Lord Yang, please detain the Household Minister."
Yang Jin kicked the Household Minister's knees out from under him, pushing him down to kneel with his hands behind his back.
"Sir Cheng, your report please," Zeyi requested, sitting back down.
"I really thought you would work out who I was," Cheng Guk Lung said to the Household Minister, with an air of sadness. "After all, it's not as though we have only spent one or two hours together." He unrolled a piece of paper from his sleeve, and began to read.
"On the Ninety-eighth day of the First Year of the Reign of the Seventh Regent of Chūn, I observed the Household Minister, the Justice Minister, and the Grand Mentor meeting in disguise at the a small entertainment building on the city outskirts, known as the Butterfly House. Upon speaking to the Household Minister once he had exited the Butterfly House, he led me to the Academy, where I was introduced to several young scholars. These scholars spoke of an overhaul of the governance system of Chūn.
Whilst many excellent points were made during these discussions, several of these scholars also expressed violent means of achieving this overhaul, including the assassination of Her Majesty, Chūn Zeyi. At this point, the Household Minister expressed that such violence would not be necessary, as Her Majesty was soon to depart on a journey, and there would be opportunities to change the system during her absence."
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The Grand Mentor had closed her eyes during this recitation. The Justice Minister was sweating profusely, but also looking, to a certain extent, perversely relieved.
The other ministers listened with grave apprehension.
"Household Minister, have you anything to say?" Zeyi asked.
He glared. "I have nothing to say to you, filthy royal. You're just the same as the rest of them. Change will only come through the force of the people.”
Zeyi sighed. "Well, it would have been nice if you had given me the chance to make changes." Her eyes once more swept over the room, landing now on the Justice Minister and the Grand Mentor. "Who wishes to speak next?"
The old Justice Minister hastily collapsed to his knees. "Please, Your Majesty! I already told you everything yesterday."
"But the others have not heard your words yet," Zeyi replied. "Will you not tell them?"
The Justice Minister tried to swallow with a dry mouth. "That... myself, the Household Minister and the Grand Mentor conspired to take the throne while Your Majesty was away on a journey. We were going to install a puppet ruler..."
"Which brings us to you, Grand Mentor." Zeyi smiled at the old woman. "Will you not speak?"
The Grand Mentor stood, her lips pursed. Her eyes seemed to be seeking someone, drifting towards the door of the antechamber behind the throne.
Her attention was drawn back to Zeyi at the sound of rustling paper.
It was the old letter.
"This letter was obtained from the underground prisons," the Grand Mentor said, "from the body of one of the deceased prisoners. The prisoner has since been identified as a messenger, a member of the Flying Horse Delivery Agency. The agency has been contacted to try and determine his identity. Once we have this information, we will be able to determine the reason for his imprisonment and subsequent death."
"You were not able to entirely decipher the letter's contents, is that correct?"
"That is so, Your Majesty. The text is written in the Zhū script. There are few who can read fluently."
"I'm not one of those," Zeyi said, holding the letter out to Cheng Guk Lung. "Sir Cheng, could you?"
He looked a little pained. "Must I?"
"Yes. Don't be embarrassed."
With a suppressed groan, Cheng Guk Lung took the fragile paper carefully, and began to read:
"For the attention of Her Majesty, the Second Regent of Cheon, Cheon Bou Tsaai, the Royal Peony, from Governor Tsau Seui.
"'I am writing to inform Your Majesty that a son has been born to my daughter, Wu Dip. We have called him Baak Gat. Once he is old enough, I hope that we all may be able to visit you, myself, Wu Dip, Cheng Ng Sang, Baak-hap and Baak Gat.' The seal of Governor Tsau Seui follows."
"And Tsau Seui was?"
"She was a first cousin of the Second Regent, governing the old province of Tsau, which once existed in the west of Chūn."
"If I remember correctly, Sir Cheng, your grandfather's childhood name was Cheng Baak Gat, was it not? And his sister's was Cheng Baak-hap, who became known as Sing Sing, the Sage Star?"
Cheng Guk Lung agreed reluctantly. “My grandfather and great-aunt were quite young when they were separated from their family. They were unable to reunite in their lifetimes.”
"Grand Mentor. Using this document, which proves that Sir Cheng's grandfather was related to the royal family of Chūn, there was some talk of placing Sir Cheng as the new Regent of Chūn, correct?"
"That is so, Your Majesty."
"We scrapped that plan long ago," the Household Minister snarled. "Why is that letter here, Grand Mentor?"
"Because... I'm willing to have faith, one last time."
As the Household Minister raged and cursed, Zeyi stood and placed her hands on Cheng Guk Lung's shoulders. He seemed to be steeling himself.
"What do you think about being Regent, Guk Lung?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Of course you do," Zeyi laughed. "I think you'll do a very good job."
"So do I," Yang Jin offered.
The mysterious cloaked figure, the enigmatic Shu Kui, bowed silently.
Out in the gardens, under a pagoda, Yuan Mu sipped tea and waited for the message that was soon to come.
"Then," said Zeyi, "I have nothing else to say. The throne was never mine to give over, after all."
"What?" Cheng Guk Lung looked a little stunned.
In fact, everyone did, aside from a knowing flicker in Shu Kui's eyes. Of course she knew, Zeyi thought.
From her hair, she extracted each jasper hairpin, each gold comb, and placed them on the throne, then stepped back, with a deep bow to Cheng Guk Lung. Puzzled, everyone followed suit.
"Your Majesty... I have known for some time that I do not have any Chūn blood. You were the sole heir, and it is only right that you reclaim your heritage."
This time, the shock couldn't be contained. The room erupted into chaos.
"Without an apparent heir," Zeyi said, loud enough to be heard over the din, which quickly settled, "I felt I had to be the caretaker. His Majesty Chūn Shenzhi was not my father."
"Then who...?" Cheng Guk Lung asked dazedly.
"Someone else," Zeyi said simply. "Your Majesty, I'm glad it's you who are the Regent now. Even though this place was... I love Chūn, very much. What will you do with these three?"
Cheng Guk Lung looked at the Household Minister. “Yuè Yuè... No, Yún Fǎn Fù. Do you remember the second-last time you were at the Butterfly House? There was a young waitress there. You murdered her.”
“A spy, you mean,” the Household Minister laughed viciously.
“She wasn't,” Cheng Guk Lung said quietly. “She was just a young girl. I was the one you should have tried to kill. Yún Fǎn Fù, you are stripped of your title as Household Minister, and will be executed on charges of murder and inciting violence.”
Yang Jin gestured to some nearby guards and handed the dazed and speechless Yún Fǎn Fù to them. It was only after they had dragged him from the throne room that he seemed to finally find his tongue. They could hear his shouts and screams all the way down the hall.
“Áo Yù. Jiā Ān Níng. For conspiracy to incite violence and civil unrest, you are both also stripped of your titles. Áo Yù is to be exiled to the far north of Chūn. Jiā Ān Níng, you will return to your hometown, where you will remain under permanent arrest. You will not be allowed to leave the town again.”
Áo Yù remained prone, shaking. Jiā Ān Níng's expression was one of acceptance. Cheng Guk Lung's voice was unwavering, but Zeyi and Shu Kui could sense the struggle under this firm expression.
“Didn't we do the same?” he had asked the night before, as they sat together in the antechamber, pulling together their plans with Yuan Mu. “It's hypocrisy.”
“You know it's more complicated than that,” Yuan Mu said gently. “Chun Yile was not a person to accept discussion or criticism. They have taken this lesson and applied it to the situation with Zeyi.”
“They must be taught that this is not the way,” Zeyi added. “If they wish to change the way the country is governed, the way is now through words, not knives.”
“I just doesn't seem... It doesn't seem fair to punish them, somehow. Except Yún Fǎn Fù. That poor girl...”
“We found her family,” Shu Kui supplied. “She has been returned home to them.”
“I doubt anyone is entirely comfortable with the situation at hand, Little Cheng,” Yuan Mu had said. “But it must be done.”
And so, Cheng Guk Lung bit his lip, and handed down punishments to the ex-Justice Minister and Grand Mentor. This done, he turned back to Zeyi.
"I'd been so happy to have found a distant cousin," Cheng Guk Lung said, with a rueful laugh. "So much for that. What will you do now? I hope you'll stay."
As Cheng Guk Lung had been speaking, a person had entered the throne room and now stood waiting, her slim frame leaning against the doorway. The light outside made the pearls on her ears shine and glimmered through the crystal lotus that hung from one lobe on a delicate chain.
"I have somewhere I need to be."