Character Index
Wei Guang: The Imperial Edict Bearer, teacher of the Emperor and Kayla's godfather. Responsible for the coup that placed the current Emperor on the throne.
Princess Ashina: Princess of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate, Kayla's bride-to-be.
Zhou Xianchun: The Seventh Prince, a contender for the throne.
Chen Caichun: Chamberlain of the Court of Judicial Review. Kayla's supporter.
Zhou Kuang: The Third Prince, a contender for the throne.
Jun Shao: Minister of Justice, Xianchun's supporter.
Governor Bao: Governor of Daizhou, eyewitness to the incident in Daizhou.
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It was still the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen, but Wei Guang and Kayla had already been up for hours. They'd spent the night finalizing the details before the convening of the court, keeping awake off anticipation and strongly brewed tea. Wei Guang grimly rolled up the last scroll and set it upon a pile of its peers.
“Today, the world changes,” Wei Guang said heavily. He glanced at Kayla. “For better or for worse, we usher in a new era.”
Kayla nodded. Even if they failed to install the communication infrastructure, they would have declared open conflict with the clans. The country would never be the same no matter what the outcome.
“Have you managed to distract the Seventh Prince?” Wei Guang asked.
Kayla thought of her encounter with Ashina’s retainer the night before.
“No, I can’t claim credit for that. The Turks are distracted, and that’s distracted the Seventh Prince,” Kayla replied.
“Well done,” Wei Guang said, before glancing at Kayla out of the side of his eyes, his tone lightening. “Though you’ll have some trouble with your little bride, won’t you?”
“I’ll be meeting with her tonight,” Kayla said confidently.
“Right after you launch the policy? That’s very…bold,” Wei Guang offered, raising his eyebrows. “Tell me, Wenyuan, when was the last time you interacted with a young lady of marriageable age other than Chamberlain Chen?”
“Huh?” Kayla gave him a look of confusion. “I interacted with the princess plenty on our way back to the capital–don’t worry about it, godfather. I’m going to be completely honest with her about what happened and why I did what I did. She’ll understand.”
Wei Guang looked as though he wanted to protest but couldn’t think of a good argument.
“Her companions have likely offered her their own version of events,” he finally said. “Compared to a fiance she barely knows who has acted in what could be misunderstood as a shameless manner, she might be more inclined towards their explanations.”
Kayla nodded. “I know. That’s why I’m bringing her evidence. Remember the shirt I mentioned to you?”
“I thought that was key evidence,” Wei Guang said.
“Yes, it makes for great visual impact. But anyways–I think it’s enough to convince the princess,” Kayla said. She’d specifically requested it from the evidence vault for this very purpose.
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Wei Guang said, relaxing slightly. “I wish you the best of luck.”
“I should be the one saying that to you,” Kayla said in amusement. The main event today was his to handle.
They turned towards the window where the sky was brightening. It was time for the court to convene.
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The officials were tense when they filed into the Main Hall of the Outer Palace. Other than the core members of each faction, no one knew who would be impeached today, or which prince’s faction would launch another attack against the other. The last convening of the court had been rife with tension as the Third Prince broke his normally unassailable calm and launched into a vitriolic attack against the Seventh Prince. Anger and bursts of temper were usually the realm of the younger prince, but now, no one could say for sure who would do what.
Things would only become more volatile now that Duke Zhao was back.
“Goodness, my old heart can’t take this,” one of the Vice-Chancellors muttered to the other.
“You too, Vice-Chancellor Wang?” The two of them shook their heads in unison, glancing about the room. Tension was palpable in the air. Neither prince had arrived yet, both having learned to delay their entrance to avoid starting a fight before the court convening began proper.
Unnervingly, neither the Imperial Edict Bearer nor his troublesome godson were there either.
They awaited in tense anticipation. Both of them had been serving at court for decades now. They could see a storm coming from miles away. But the storms were growing too large and too frequent, to the point where dread curdled in their stomachs despite their ample experience.
At least the previous Emperor had the decency to name an heir and spare us this trouble, the two old men thought but did not dare to say.
Prince Kuang entered the hall, followed by the core members of his faction. He returned greetings with unassuming pleasantness, radiating the same solid certainty as always. It was almost enough to assure everyone that his thunderous rage last time was only a trick of the eyes.
A short while later, Prince Xianchun entered as well. The sharpness of a headstrong young man shone in his every movement–it would be discouraging for his supporters, if not for the calculating undercurrent in his eyes that hinted at greater temperance and tenacity than was visible at first glance.
The two older men watched on, still hedging their bets. Neither was a part of either faction, nor were they true neutrals. But they were getting on in their years, with scores of children and grandchildren to worry about, futures to ensure, careers to pay for. They would only choose once, and correctly at that.
“Duke Zhao is still not here,” Vice-Chancellor Wang remarked, a little taken aback. “Vice-Chancellor Xu, you don’t think he’s lost his sense of discipline on his little jaunt to the North, do you?”
“That may yet be a good thing,” Vice-Chancellor Xu muttered, leaning in to speak under his breath. “Even better yet if he falls heads over heels into marital bliss and leaves us alone. That boy’s trouble. Better for us all that he fades out of politics quickly than…well, you know what I mean.”
The two exchanged a meaningful glance. The Grand Duke’s tyranny had helped to line their pockets, but it had been grating to go for years and years with the old bastard looming over them. And now the grandson was shaping up to be even more of a menace.
“Announcing the arrival of His Majesty the Emperor!” An eunuch called.
The officials hastily stepped into their proper positions, kneeling to greet him. The eunuch didn’t announce them, but it didn’t slip anyone’s notice that Wei Guang and Zhao Wenyuan entered with the Emperor. The two quietly slipped into their own positions, making a show of discretion when every single person in the hall was taking note.
From the Emperor’s quarters? Both of them? Something has to be going on. The same thoughts rattled through every mind.
The court proceeded as usual under the Emperor’s watchful eye. There was nothing in the faces of the three men that suggested anything was out of the ordinary, but the sensation of something about to happen prickled up and down the skin of the officials present, needling into their flesh like a knife that trailed down their backs but didn’t make a cut—yet.
Seeming to take pity on them, the Emperor finally spoke up after patiently allowing the Chancellor to finish his report.
“My beloved subjects, I have an important announcement to make,” the Emperor said.
“As you all know, my dearest nephew and loyal subject, the Duke of Zhao, who holds the positions of Director of the Imperial Investigation Bureau, and Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, will soon marry Princess Ashina of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate to secure the peace and friendship between our two nations,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the court expectantly.
“A most wondrous occasion, Your Majesty,” Kuang helpfully supplied, sparing anyone from braving a response.
“Indeed,” the Emperor said, his voice deceptively soft. “A most wondrous occasion–to see harmony restored through this union. One would say it was worthy of celebration.”
The Emperor’s gaze sharpened, and it seemed to bore into each official as he turned toward them.
“And yet an occasion such as this, one that I have painstakingly sought in order to protect our dynasty, to protect the foundation built by my ancestors was desecrated in the most hideous and humiliating manner by one of my own subjects!” He thundered.
The court seemed to flinch as a single body as the hammer finally came down on them.
“What? What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Xianchun asked in confusion.
“What? What indeed! Even I scarcely dared to believe it upon learning of this! After my nephew departed from Taiyuan and headed north into Daizhou, he was abducted by assailants who attempted to take his life, without the local guards being any the wiser! It was only thanks to the courageousness of his escort that my nephew survived to meet his bride,” the Emperor snarled.
The court was stunned into silence.
“Who on earth would do such a thing?” Kuang asked.
“The most ungrateful of men, who value the gold in their pockets over the safety of the country, who value their own greed over the laws of this nation! The culprits of this abominable incident are my very own subjects, the reputable Wang clan of Taiyuan!” The Emperor’s voice rose in volume, swelling to bounce off the walls.
“What?!” Clamors of disbelief broke out through the hall.
The Emperor ignored all of them in his fury. “The Wang clan of Taiyuan, who I trusted as the suppliers of my military. The Wang clan of Taiyuan, who produced generations of Ministers for the Court of Judicial Review! Out of petty greed and jealousy, they risked the entire country!”
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Looks of disbelief molted into shock and worry. The Wang clan was well known for monopolizing a great part of the contracts for supplying military gain, and had hardly been inconspicuous with the wealth they’d made off of it. They also hadn’t hidden their discontent when Zhao Wenyuan was made Minister of the reinstated Court of Judicial Review over the more experienced and senior officials produced by their own clan.
No way, surely they wouldn’t have?! Or at least not so stupid as to be caught!
“In their eagerness to incite war and fatten themselves off the blood and bones of their countrymen, they went so far as to hire assassins from within the borders of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate, so as to obscure my eyes and ears and turn me into a criminal of history for starting an unjust war!” The Emperor’s rage bore down on them now in its full glory, crushing the questions out of their lips. Only Minister Jun dared to cut in.
“Could there have been a mistake of some sort?” Minister Jun asked, his voice trembling with shock and nervousness. He had risen to power with the initial patronage of the Wang clan of Taiyuan, though he had parted paths with them long ago.
“A mistake?” The Emperor’s voice was dangerously low. “We have material evidence and witnesses! The bodies of the Turkic men hired by the Wang clan, the communication devices that tie them to Lord Wang, and the testimony of Governor Bao of Daizhou!”
He flung out an arm, and an Imperial Investigator emerged from the folding screen behind the throne, his mask declaring him to be one of the highest-ranking Investigators. The man unfurled a scroll and began to read out a detailed report.
Looks of disbelief changed to ones of undisguised horror. The report went on, drolly listing out the core members of the Wang clan as co-conspirators. The court settled into grim resignation. There was no more point in disputing it–the case was waterproof, or at least waterproof enough that the officials wouldn’t be able to prove otherwise. Unbeknownst to them, Wenyuan had certainly spared no trouble in making it so.
The Wang clan is done for. It was visible at a glance who was and wasn't affiliated with the clan in some way from the looks of consternation scattered about the room.
The Investigator finished and gave a deep bow towards the throne and then a shallower bow towards the court before leaving as quietly as he had entered.
The Emperor looked at them expectantly. The court did their best to avoid his gaze. To accuse one of their peers would be betrayal, but so would defending them when they had insulted the Emperor. Seeing that no one would say the first word, the Emperor’s temper flared.
“This isn’t just a crime–this is treason! To think that a subject who I have lauded with favor would repay me with such humiliation, and before the Khaganate at that!” The Emperor snarled, leaning forward in his throne.
No one dared to speak.
“The moment I start treating you well, you take that as permission to step on my nose to tread on my face, is that it?” He glared at them fiercely. “Well?!”
“No, we would not dare! Please appease your anger, Your Majesty!” One of the officials hastily said. The others followed when he knelt, bowing their heads to the ground. The cold of the tiled floors seeped into their knees, but was barely noticeable compared to the deep-set chill rattling inside their very bones.
That fool!
What was he thinking?!
Now he’s doomed us all!
Save for the core members of each prince's factions, they all had some stake in the prosperity of the major clans, either as members or as clients. But now the Wang clan had created an opening so glaring that it couldn't be covered up.
Silent insults against the Wang clan of Taiyuan filled the room up to the rafters, congealing into a heavy mass that crushed their foreheads firmly against the floor.
“Appease my anger? And what, ignore this sullying of the Wu dynasty’s honor?!” The Emperor shouted. Almost at once, a unanimous decision was made by the officials without a single word between them.
Cut our losses.
Vice-Chancellor Xu straightened to his feet.
“Your Majesty, such treachery must be punished! We humbly urge you to sentence Lord Wang to death and exterminate his clan!”
Next to him, Vice-Chancellor Wang, a distant cousin of said man, trembled in horror and anger, helpless to do anything.
“Your Majesty, please sentence Lord Wang to death and exterminate the Wang clan of Taiyuan!”
The other officials joined in, steeling themselves as they tossed their long-time ally to the wolves.
The Emperor swept his gaze over all of them, daring anyone to plead for mercy. Almost on cue, Wei Guang rose to his feet, stepping towards the throne.
“My liege, please reconsider! It is inauspicious for so harsh a punishment to take place before a wedding, much more so when it is a wedding of national importance!” Wei Guang pleaded.
“You would have me overlook such an insult?!” The Emperor snarled.
“Please reconsider, my liege, for the sake of the nation!” Wei Guang dropped to his knees, bowing his head to the ground.
A long moment passed, the court waiting with bated breath. Finally, the Emperor let out an angry huff and leaned back, signaling that the worst was over.
“The Imperial Edict Bearer’s words have merit. A great fortuitous occasion is upon us, I’ll not stain my nephew’s marriage with excessive bloodshed,” the Emperor said in a deep rumble. “Those responsible will be executed, but the clan will be spared from extermination.”
There was a moment of terrified silence before Kuang knelt bowed deeply.
“Your Majesty’s wisdom and benevolence knows no bounds!” Kuang declared. The officials hastily echoed him, sweat trickling down their brows.
“They may be spared from death, but they cannot escape punishment among the living,” the Emperor went on. “The Wang clan will be stripped of all its titles of nobility and have its assets confiscated. All civil and martial officials from the clan at the national, provincial, and local level are to be discharged, effective immediately.”
“Your Majesty is wise!” Wei Guang said, bowing his head deeply.
“But they say that a punishment alone is not enough to admonish those who hold disloyalty in their hearts, that a ruler who punishes without teaching first is a tyrant,” the Emperor said grimly. “I would have thought that years of education on the teachings of the ancient greats and sages would be sufficient for my beloved subjects to distinguish between right and wrong, but my trust is repaid with such ungratefulness! To think that such a thing would happen within my very borders with no one being the wiser! And what would the consequences have been? War and devastation!”
The court winced away from the Emperor’s harsh disapproval, unable to protest when the Emperor was already being merciful.
“In light of this incident, my eyes have been opened to the failings of my subject, but more importantly, my own failings as a ruler. For too long, I have looked without seeing, listening without truly hearing, and allowed my beloved subjects to wander into folly. That comes to an end now.”
He swept out his arm, imperiously gesturing for the eunuch to speak.
The eunuch unfurled a scroll and raised his voice.
“By decree of His Majesty, the Son of Heaven, aligning with the will of the Heavens and the wishes of the people, every government office throughout the country is to install a communication device for the express purpose of reporting to the court on a daily basis, in order to protect the sanctity of the law and uphold the upright nature of the dynasty. Henceforth, in addition to current reporting duties, every civil and military post throughout the nation will be required to report on their daily activities to a centralized office, as well as any unusual occurrences or activities within their realm of governance. Failure to do so will result in probation, and continued failure will result in removal from office.”
Tension mounted in the room till it was almost hard to breathe, quiet whispers sweeping through the court like a tidal wave.
“For this purpose, His Majesty the Emperor hereby establishes the Office of Censure to process and moderate the reports submitted to the court. The Office of Censure will report directly to His Majesty the Emperor. In light of his loyalty and steadfast nature, His Grace Imperial Edict Bearer Wei Guang will be dual-appointed as the Minister of Censure.”
Wei Guang knelt, bowing his head. “I humbly accept this responsibility, and will work within an inch of my life to fulfill His Majesty’s responsibilities.”
The Emperor raised a hand out towards Wei Guang, signaling for him to rise. Wei Guang got up and bowed again before stepping back into his position.
“The Office of Censure will work with local and provincial offices under the guidance of the Imperial Investigation Bureau to enact the establishment of this communication infrastructure. Furthermore, security will be heightened at the border and at internal checkpoints to prevent the hiring of foreign criminals for nefarious purposes and to protect the safety of foreign and domestic travelers alike. To ensure the safety of the country and to reduce criminal acts, His Majesty the Emperor henceforth enacts the following policy to be enacted immediately.”
There’s still more?!
The eunuch went on, his voice smooth and steady despite the growing unease of the court.
“Any civilian or official who wishes to report criminal activity of civil or martial officials will be granted immediate passage to the capital, with their travel fees to be covered by the throne, and make his or her report before a rotating committee of officials under the direct supervision of a minimum of one Imperial Guard and one Imperial Investigator. The committee will then be responsible for investigating the claims. Until the establishment of a permanent roster, committee members will be drawn from the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review.”
The horror finally sank in as the officials realized what kind of situation they were in. The Emperor was serious this time. He had ample justification, and further had enough to bludgeon any opponent’s head in with, thanks to the folly of the Wang clan.
Damn it, those fools! Why did they have to drag us down with them?! Anyone who protested now could easily be cast as a traitor or an accomplice–moreover, the Emperor’s rage was still hanging like a sword over their necks. Whoever set it off would die a painful death.
“Civilians whose reports uncover misdeeds of a serious nature will be awarded for upstanding citizenship, and may further be eligible for monetary rewards. Moreover, such merit would count towards increasing the eligibility of the reporter or their children for civil service. Officials whose reports uncover misdeeds of a serious nature will have it listed among their accomplishments in office and may count it towards promotions. Misguided reports will not be rewarded nor punished. However, malicious reports with the intent of causing personal, financial, or political damage to a person or clan will be punished with a heavy fine of no less than 1000 gold and imprisonment for no shorter than a year. Thus is decreed, to be executed immediately.”
The court was silent for a moment before erupting into clamor. The Emperor let them hash out their disbelief, watching patiently from his throne. After he deemed long enough had passed, he raised his voice.
“My beloved subjects, are you discontent with this policy?” There was a dangerous edge in his voice that smothered any words of protest on the very tongue. The bloodstained axe of extermination to the ninth degree was still in the Emperor’s hands, and it could easily smite anyone fool enough to complain.
“Your Majesty’s decision is beyond reproach,” Kuang spoke up, his voice ringing loud and clear through the hall.
Following his lead, the rest of the Third Prince’s faction acquiesced. A little awkwardly, the Seventh Prince’s faction followed as well, somewhat discontented to have to agree with their rivals. The rest of the court reluctantly joined in, and the decree passed into law without a single protest.
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Cultural Notes
门下省/Chancellery: One of the Three Departments, that reigns over the Six Ministries. Has two Vice-Chancellors and a Chancellor.
爱卿/Beloved Subject: A common phrase used by ancient Emperors to address their officials.
祖宗基业/Foundational achievements built by one's ancestors: An Ancient Chinese proverb used to emphasize the significance of protecting what one has inherited by preventing it from going into decline.
太原王氏/Wang clan of Taiyuan: One of the major clans that historically existed in the Tang dynasty, the one used in-story is a fictionalized version that ranks among the most powerful clans.
千古罪人/Criminal of thousand years/of history: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning to commit a mistake or crime so severe that it would be criticized for thousands of years to come.
不义之征/Unrighteous conquest/war: A Chinese phrase used to refer to starting a war without righteousness, aka not having proper justification.
人证物证俱全/Witnesses and material evidence are all present: An Ancient Chinese saying often used to mean that a case is solid.
恩将仇报/Repay favor with injury: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to ingrates.
蹬鼻子上脸/Step on one's nose to tread on one's face: A Chinese saying meaning to act shamelessly by taking advantage of someone's gesture of goodwill.
死罪可免，活罪难逃/[You] Can avoid death, but [you] cannot avoid a living punishment: An Ancient Chinese saying that means you might be spared from death, but not from punishment.
不教而杀谓之虐/Killing without teaching first is tyranny: An Ancient Chinese proverb from the pre-Qin era, it means that a ruler has the duty to educate his subjects on the law and morality before doling out executions, or it would be tyranny otherwise.
明辨是非/Have a clear judgment of right and wrong: An Ancient Chinese proverb.
视而不见听而不闻/Look without seeing, listen without hearing: An Ancient Chinese proverb from the pre-Qin era, meaning that one fails to see and hear what's truly going on, either because they don't wish to, or because they fail to do so.
应天顺时，受兹明命/Aligning with the will of the Heavens and the wishes of the people: An Ancient Chinese line that was often attached to edicts and decrees of Emperors, especially in the Han dynasty.
都察院/Office of Censure: An Ancient Chinese office that was in charge of keeping an eye on officials, similar to an internal affairs office.