Character Index
Investigator Qiu: An older Imperial Investigator, accompanied Kayla on her trip North. Mentor of Mi Zhu.
Mi Zhu/Investigator Mi: A young Imperial Investigator who is also a magic-user. Investigator Qiu's mentee, also accompanied Kayla northwards. Was initially resistant to Kayla's appointment as Director of the Imperial Investigation Bureau.
Investigator Liu: An Imperial Investigator who accompanied Kayla on her trip North.
Investigator Zhang: An Imperial Investigator who accompanied Kayla on her trip North.
Zhang Wuxian: A low-ranking secretary who was promoted to the capital from a regional post after a great deal of officials were charged with corruption by Kayla, so technically indebted to her in that regard. Friends with Lin Jie. The two appeared in Chapter 42, discussing the new policies.
Lin Jie: A low-ranking secretary who was promoted to the capital from a regional post after a great deal of officials were charged with corruption by Kayla. Friends with Zhang Wuxian, the older one of the two. Appeared in Chapter 42.
Hu Qing/Liang Hongfei: Lord of the Liang clan and Kayla's right-hand man. Formerly Kayla's retainer.
Tabuyir: A Senior Investigator of the Imperial Investigation Bureau. Chose to support Kayla, sending his nephew into her household. Accompanied her North.
Chen Caichun: Chamberlain of the Court of Judicial Review, Kayla's supporter.
Secretary Song/Song Yuanwang: A young half-Persian secretary in the Ministry of Justice, he appeared in B2C23, and then requested a meeting with Kayla in B2C25. He met with Sun Ruhui in Kayla's absence and was at the top of the list for potential officials to take under her wing.
Sun Ruhui: Left Secretariat of Justice, Kayla's supporter and primary advisor.
Wei Guang: Imperial Edict Bearer and Minister of the Office of Censure. Kayla's godfather.
Qu Boyong/Xiang Daozong: Lord of the Xiang clan.
Captain Jiang: An Imperial Guard captain who managed to get married with Kayla's help via Princess Mingda (the Sixth Princess). Escorted her to the North.
Princess Ashina: Kayla's bride-to-be and the Princess of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate. Found herself in a frustrating predicament upon realizing how powerless she was, as well as how little access she had to information.
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Investigator Qiu groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he suffered through the paperwork. Much to his chagrin, this was only the beginning. The older he got, the less fieldwork he would get to do.
And the more paperwork, he thought with disgruntlement.
“Investigator Qiu,” a familiar voice rang out above the sounds of papers shuffling.
“Mi Zhu,” he called out distractedly. “All done with work already?”
Investigator Mi came over to his desk, a look of detached curiosity on his face.
“Yeah, more or less.”
“Does that mean you didn’t finish filing your paperwork?” Investigator Qiu asked.
Mi Zhu gave him a sheepish look. “I’ll do it tomorrow,” he whined.
“Hey, if you don’t get used to doing it while you’re young, it’ll be much more painful for you when you’re older,” Investigator Qiu scolded him.
“Speaking from personal experience?” Mi Zhu dodged the scroll lobbed at his head with a grin.
“You cheeky little shit,” Investigator Qiu muttered. Shooting the younger man an exasperated glare, he quieted down and turned his attention back to his paperwork. “Wait up a bit and I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate.”
“You already heard?” Mi Zhu asked.
“Of course, you’re my student, aren’t you? They let me know as soon as the decision was made,” Investigator Qiu replied. “Congratulations on your new post. Making it to Hundred Household Captain at such a young age is nothing to scoff at, but don’t let it go to your head.”
“I won’t,” Mi Zhu promised. “But I’ll be stationed outside of the capital for now, I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can return.”
Investigator Qiu stopped writing and glanced up at Mi Zhu in amusement. “My boy, you have nothing to worry about. You’re being placed on the fast track–Youzhou is a hotbed of foreign activity, and the local base is heavily understaffed. More importantly, Duke Zhao has enough support in the North that you won’t be given small shoes to wear. So long as you perform well, you’ll become a Thousand Household captain before you’re thirty–that’s impossible with the level of competition in the capital.”
“So I’ll be in the North from now on,” Mi Zhu said thoughtfully. “What about you? I heard that you were assigned to work with the Office of Censure.”
“Yes, Investigator Zhang and Investigator Liu as well,” Investigator Qiu replied. He glanced up at the troubled expression on Mi Zhu’s face. “It’s just as you think–everyone who was part of the escort party is either being assigned to the Office of Censure or promoted outside of the capital, and it’s a good mix of junior and senior Investigators in either batch. Duke Zhao is saving a hand in case things go wrong with the Office of Censure, so that he’ll still have a batch of reliable Investigators to make use of. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I get it,” Mi Zhu mumbled.
“Good.” Investigator Qiu squinted down at a form. “Who the hell wrote this? Mi Zhu, come here and take a look, what character is this illiterate fool trying to write?”
Mi Zhu circled around the desk to scrutinize the script, allowing his mentor to rope him into helping with the paperwork.
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Zhang Wuxian sped up into a half-jog as he turned off the main street, lifting his robes slightly to avoid tripping over them.
“Brother Lin!” He entered the small courtyard after a brief knock on the gate and pushed open the unlocked door. “Have you heard the news?”
Lin Jie jolted, dropping the incense stick in his hands as he scrambled up from his seat on the ground, hastily pulling his sleeves down.
“For heaven’s sake!” Lin Jie snapped. “Are you trying to scare me to death?”
“Sorry, sorry, I thought you heard me knocking,” Zhang Wuxian said sheepishly. He sniffed the air, a confused frown creasing his brow. Following the burnt smell, his eyes dropped to the smoking sticks on the floor, then back to Lin Jie’s ash-smudged fingers. “What in the–”
“This is about the personnel changes, right?” Lin Jie hastily cut him off, stepping onto the incense and grinding out the last embers. Zhang Wuxian ignored his words and crossed the distance between them faster than Lin Jie could blink.
“Let me see your arm!”
Lin Jie balked and tried to pull out of Zhang Wuxian’s grip.
“Let go! What’s wrong with you?!”
Zhang Wuxian yanked Lin Jie’s sleeve up, exposing the fresh burns on his right arm, overlapping with scores of previous burns. He looked up at Lin Jie, aghast.
“What is this?”
“It’s none of your business!” Lin Jie shook off Zhang Wuxian’s grip.
“How could you do this to yourself?!” Zhang Wuxian caught his arm again, staring at the damaged skin in horror.
“Who are you to question me?” Lin Jie shot back.
“What, so am I supposed to act as though I didn’t see anything?” Zhang Wuxian gave him a hurt look.
Lin Jie grimaced. “I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a folk remedy.”
“I’m not an idiot, the folk remedy doesn't go this far!”
“Don’t talk about what you don’t understand!” Lin Jie snapped.
“Then explain it to me," Zhang Wuxian pleaded. "How am I supposed to help you if I don’t know what’s going on?”
“I don’t need your help! Just say what you came here for,” Lin Jie wrested his arm free.
He glanced at Zhang Wuxian’s distressed expression and faltered, before finally giving in with a sigh.
“It’s really nothing, just an old issue with my arm. I get tremors sometimes and can hardly hold a pen–a folk doctor I know told me that burning it with incense would help, and it does. I don’t know how or why, but if it works, it works, alright? Don’t worry about it. Now what did you want?”
“Why don’t you go see a healer about it? You can’t just listen to those folk doctors! Half of them are quacks!” Zhang Wuxian insisted, refusing to drop the topic.
“Normal healers can’t help, and I can’t afford to see a high-level healer,” Lin Jie said. “Even if I scraped together the money, who’s to say they’d be able to fix it?”
“I can lend you some funds,” Zhang Wuxian said. “Plus, our colleagues would probably be willing to lend you money as well, you’d definitely be able to make the amount with ease.”
“Thanks, but I don’t borrow money,” Lin Jie said bluntly.
“Oh come on, don’t be so stubborn,” Zhang Wuxian protested.
“Nothing I can do about it, it goes against my family creed. My great-grandfather borrowed some money after his fields got flooded, and he ended up penniless,” Lin Jie said. “After that, he created a new rule for his descendants–never borrow money that you can’t repay the next morning. And I’d say it’s good sense, if you ask me.”
Seeing Zhang Wuxian’s crestfallen face, he patted his friend on the shoulder.
“Thanks though, but I’m really fine. I don’t want to shell out a huge amount just to be told that they can’t fix it anyhow. Now are you going to tell me what you’re here for? Or are you waiting for me to offer food? I haven’t cooked yet,” Lin Jie said.
Zhang Wuxian reluctantly accepted the answer with a sigh. “It’s just…I’ve been promoted to Attendant Censor in the Office of Censure, starting tomorrow,” he said.
“Congratulations!” Lin Jie clapped him on the shoulder.
“What about you? You’re more capable than I am, surely they wouldn’t have passed you over for a post,” Zhang Wuxian said hopefully.
“Funny you should say that,” Lin Jie said. He paused for long enough to make Zhang Wuxian start to worry before giving his answer. “I’ve also been notified of my promotion to Attendant Censor–looks like we’ll be serving in the same office from now on.”
“Thank the heavens!” Zhang Wuxian’s face lit up. “I’m so glad, truly!”
“I’ll drink to that,” Lin Jie said. “Here, let me get the wine jug.”
“I’ll get it,” Zhang Wuxian said, hurriedly going over to grab it before Lin Jie could move. Zhang Wuxian went to take out the cups, setting them out on the small dining table. He took the jug and poured out their drinks, still shooting worried glances at Lin Jie’s arm every now and then. Uncomfortable but also quite touched, Lin Jie chose not to say anything.
Sensing his friend’s uneasiness, Zhang Wuxian forced his voice into a cheery tone.
“It's great that we'll be proper coworkers now," he said.
"Agreed. Want some salted melon seeds to go with that?" Lin Jie offered.
"I'm fine, thank you. Oh, that reminds me. My wife made some meat pies for you, she asked me to bring them over,” Zhang Wuxian said, clinking cups with Lin Jie.
“Really, that’s too kind of her,” Lin Jie said, lifting the cup to his mouth. He paused, glancing at Zhang Wuxian quizzically. “So where are the meat pies?”
Zhang Wuxian froze. “Ah, damn it, I forgot to bring them!”
Lin Jie chuckled, shaking his head in exasperation. “Forget it, just eat them yourself. Have you heard who else will be posted?”
“The Right Vice-Censor is supposed to be the new Lord of the Liang clan,” Zhang Wuxian said thoughtfully. “He’s rather young though, and I don’t believe he’s had any experience at court before.”
Lin Jie poured out a new cup of wine. “What about the Left Vice-Censor?”
“I heard someone will be dual-appointed from the Imperial Investigation Bureau for the time being, to ensure that the cooperation goes smoothly,” Zhang Wuxian replied.
“Then it’ll probably be Senior Investigator Tabuyir,” Lin Jie said.
“The one who escorted Duke Zhao up North?”
“The very one,” Lin Jie said.
“Why do you say so?”
Lin Jie shrugged. “Think about it, Lord Liang has no qualifications, and yet he’s about to become Vice-Censor. I’m sure he’s skilled, but he is without prior post or accomplishments, why did they choose him? It must be because of Duke Zhao. So the other one has to be experienced, and also tied to Duke Zhao.”
“Right, Lord Liang used to be…” Zhang Wuxian muttered.
“And not just that–why are we being chosen?” Lin Jie pointed out.
Zhang Wuxian frowned in thought. “Because we…we’re somewhat indebted to Duke Zhao?”
“You could say so if you wanted, but there’s plenty of people who are technically indebted to Duke Zhao the way we are,” Lin Jie said. “The two of us don’t really stand out amongst them. I think it’s because we have no background whatsoever. Your family runs a small medicine shop in a backwater town–mine are tenant croppers. If we were to be executed or exiled, who would be able to speak up for us?”
“So this isn’t a good thing then?” Zhang Wuxian asked worriedly.
“It depends. Look at Left Secretariat Sun, he was also a nobody before gaining Duke Zhao’s patronage. If we prove ourselves useful and refrain from making a mistake, this might just be our chance to step onto azure clouds. But if we fail to meet expectations, we’ll probably become scapegoats,” Lin Jie said. “Duke Zhao has enough resources of his own, so he likes to build people up from scratch, or otherwise give chances to people who would never get one–the more they owe him, the less likely they are to go against him. But just being indebted isn’t enough. We have to be successful if we want to stay alive to continue being indebted.”
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Zhang Wuxian scoffed lightly at the sarcasm in Lin Jie’s voice.
“Looks like we’ll have a rough road ahead of us,” Zhang Wuxian said softly. He poured out another cup for Lin Jie before refilling his own. “It’s like what you said before–feeding the beast, right?”
Lin Jie silently raised his cup to clink against Zhang Wuxian’s before downing it in a single go.
“Right.”
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Kayla handed off a set of scrolls to the secretary, giving him a nod of thanks as the man scurried off to deliver them. Before any policy was enacted, there was a truly ridiculous amount of administrative work that needed to be completed first–in fact, logistics were the bulk of the battle.
Kayla glanced at the hourglass. The workers who had arrived at seven in the morning had been there for a good ten hours by now.
She got up from her desk and walked into the shared office area. The officials and clerks glanced up at her.
“Everyone who has been here since the cheng hour, wrap up, log your work, and go home,” Kayla ordered. There was a flurry of activity as a good chunk of the officials began finishing up.
After returning from the North, Kayla had switched up how the Court of Judicial Review was run. Ever since its reinstatement, the average workday tended to drag on between 12 to 16 hours on any given day, if not longer when something was going down. After carefully deliberating over the roster, Kayla split the institution’s personnel into two day shifts, one that arrived at seven in the morning and left at five in the afternoon, the other which arrived at ten and worked until eight in the evening, at which the night shift would arrive. The night shift’s administrative personnel were sparsely staffed, and had little to do. They were just stand-by for emergencies to begin with. Kayla didn’t see a point in reducing their hours or adding an extra shift.
To ensure smooth handoffs between the first and second shifts, Chen Caichun had been tasked with creating a work-log form that fit the needs of the court. Officials were required to fill in what they had worked on and outline what steps they’d taken on whatever they hadn’t finished yet. They would then sign the form and hand the documents off to the next shift instead of coming back to it the next day.
Work efficiency had gone up, but there was now a new problem to worry about–no one had sensed that the new changes in management had been the forewarning for a major policy rollout this time around, but now, any personnel or workflow changes that Kayla made would be heavily scrutinized as a potential warning sign by the rest of the court.
Well, whatever. Kayla waved as a few officials came by her office to say goodbye. I can’t control what other people interpret from my actions, I’ll just have to be more careful.
“Minister, there’s someone here to see you from the Ministry of Justice,” a secretary announced.
That must be Secretary Song.
“Show him in,” Kayla replied. The secretary bowed and left, returning momentarily with a young man in tow.
“Song Yuanwang humbly greets Duke Zhao,” he said.
“It’s good to finally meet you,” Kayla said. “Come on in and shut the door behind you.”
Secretary Song complied, sitting down across from Kayla at her urging.
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Left Secretariat Sun, he says you’re very promising,” Kayla said.
Secretary Song bowed his head slightly. “I’m grateful for the Left Secretariat’s kind words.”
Kayla smiled. “Since we’re of the same mind here, let’s just open the door to the mountain. Am I correct in understanding that you wish for me to become your patron?”
Secretary Song’s face remained as inexpressive as ever. “Yes, Your Excellency.”
There was a brief silence.
Dude, are you not going to say anything? Sun Ruhui had also mentioned that Secretary Song was a man of few words, but he was really exceeding her expectations here.
Kayla tilted her head, curiously observing the man’s impassive expression. “So tell me, Secretary Song, what do you hope to gain from this?”
“To go as high as fate allows,” he replied without hesitation.
He's not even trying for flattery. Entirely ignoring the usual scripts, are we now? Kayla bit back a grin of amusement. Secretary Song's bluntness may have been offensive to another man, but Kayla found it rather refreshing.
She scrutinized the young man for a moment before finalizing her decision.
“Alright then. From now on, you’ll have my backing,” she said.
Secretary Song's eyes widened in surprise before creasing into a frown. “That easily?” He asked suspiciously.
Kayla’s smile widened.
“This isn’t an interview, Secretary Song. I just called you here to confirm a decision I’ve already made,” Kayla said patiently. “Rather than what you say, it’s the person who recommended you that matters more to me. You owe Sun Ruhui a thank you.”
Secretary Song considered her words for a moment and bowed his head. “I understand.”
“Now, as for what I need you to do,” Kayla began.
Secretary Song nodded sagely. “Recruit officials of Persian and Sogdian descent for you.”
Kayla blinked in surprise. “Well, yes, that is what I was going to say,” she muttered. “Did Left Secretariat Sun explain it to you already?”
“No, but there’s not much else I can offer that you would want.”
Kayla regarded him in mild fascination for a moment.
“Don’t undersell yourself,” Kayla said amicably. “I’m sure you have plenty of talents. But in any case, this is rather important to me. As they say, if you listen to everyone, you’ll stand in the light, but if you only listen to one voice, you’ll be left in the dark. I need more perspectives from different cultures and lifestyles to ensure I have a comprehensive viewpoint.”
More importantly, she needed their political support if she wanted to completely destroy the major clan’s grasp on the public service sector.
Secretary Song silently nodded.
“Then I’ll leave it to you, but let me know at any time if you need any help,” Kayla said.
“Much obliged,” Secretary Song bowed his head slightly. “Is there anything else?”
“No, you may leave,” Kayla replied. The young man got up, bowed, and left the room in a quick procession.
That was fast, really fast…will he really be alright? He doesn't seem the sociable type. Kayla shook her head. If Sun Ruhui was recommending him for the task, she was sure it would be fine. She left the office, nodding at the secretary outside.
“I’m heading over to the Office of Censure,” she said. “If anyone comes to look for me here, take a message and schedule them for tomorrow.”
“Understood!”
The sun was low on the horizon by the time she made her way over and located Wei Guang from amidst the mountains of paperwork in the new institution. It was located in a government building that had fallen out of use, and had been hastily repurposed at the very last minute. Dust and cobwebs still clung to some of the pillars.
“Your Grace,” Kayla said in greeting.
“Wenyuan, it’s good to see you,” Wei Guang said. He waved away the clerks.
“You look to be in good spirits,” Kayla said, glancing over him.
Wei Guang was radiating energy, his eyes shining despite the chaotic surroundings.
“I never thought that I would be doing such things in my old age,” Wei Guang replied. “I had considered retiring for good only a few years ago, and now, here we are.” He gestured about them.
Kayla nodded. “Have you seen the personnel lists?”
“Yes, you’ve put a lot of thought into them. I have nothing to change,” Wei Guang said.
“Thank you for that. I wanted to ask you what we should do about Qu Boyong–I excluded him from this round of the personnel selection, and I don’t think he’ll be happy about it. He might join hands with the Seventh Prince for good,” Kayla said.
“You have no reason to include him, that much is for sure,” Wei Guang sighed. “I’ll say that if he wants to join hands with the Seventh Prince, let him. The Empress Dowager’s backing will fall apart soon–her position is already like a strongbow on its last bowstring. As long as we can withstand the last struggle of a trapped beast, that’ll be the end of it.”
Kayla scanned the surroundings, lowering her voice slightly. “I don’t think the Seventh Prince will give in just because the Empress Dowager’s stage falls apart.”
“He’s offended too many people without gaining enough allies, and he’s dead set on continuing down that path. We’ll be fine just letting him continue the way he’s going,” Wei Guang replied.
“I don’t know, we can’t underestimate him,” Kayla muttered.
“He has no military support except for a Vice-Commander far away in the Southwest, and thanks to the mountains, she can’t even leave the region without the whole country noticing her movements,” Wei Guang pointed out. “Unless something drastically changes in the capital, it’s only a matter of time.”
“I’m just saying that we should make preparations,” Kayla replied. Wei Guang nodded.
“It’s time you strengthened your ties with the Imperial Guard and City Guard,” he said. “Captain Jiang is now doubly indebted to you, but you also need to get the commander in charge of the armory on your side.”
“That’s not what I–I meant political means! Can you please not loudly conspire about something like this?” Kayla hissed.
“Relax, this place is safe. I always ensure the privacy of any space I’m in the first thing I do,” Wei Guang said, subtly gesturing around them. Kayla stilled, sensing the shimmer of high-level magic when she focused.
“Wards,” Kayla muttered in surprise. She glanced at the staff members bustling about a distance away.
“So they wouldn’t be able to hear us even if they came closer,” Wei Guang assured her. “About the guards, I have some contacts who are now high in seniority. I’ll arrange some meetings for you, so be sure to go.”
“Please make sure there’s a proper excuse. All eyes are on us right now,” Kayla warned. “If we’re not careful, I’ll be charged with conspiracy before I’ve even done a thing.”
“Duly noted.” Wei Guang glanced at her. “How was your meeting with the princess?”
“Fine, but please don’t mind that right now. I know you’re busy, but do you have any inkling as to what I should be looking into for my nullification magic?” Kayla asked. “I have a bad feeling about the level of retaliation we’ll receive–if things go south, I can’t afford for my abilities to fail me at the moment I need them most.”
Wei Guang was silent for a long moment. “How do you feel right now?”
“Fine enough,” Kayla replied.
“Then I wouldn’t worry about it, I don’t sense any abnormalities. As long as you’re in the capital, I doubt you’ll face any issues,” he said.
“Why are you so certain?” Kayla asked.
Wei Guang avoided her eyes. “Your mother made due preparations for you, Wenyuan. You’ll be fine.”
Due preparations…is there something in the capital that strengthens my abilities? But whatever it is, he really does know what’s going on.
“Alright then,” Kayla said. I’ll have to look through the Imperial Princess’ notes when I have the time. She had all of them safely stashed away, save for one scroll that Kayla had lost track of.
“Anyways, on the topic of my mother, I need to access her villa to get the evidence she collected,” Kayla said. “Since we're opening up the reporting system, I think we have a good opportunity here. The Empress Dowager denied me access to the villa before, but now the situation is different. I’m thinking of asking the Emperor again.”
The two launched into discussion, leaving the topic of her nullification magic behind.
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The Empress Dowager sipped at her tea, her calm, faultless demeanor hiding the turmoil inside. Using the new personnel shuffle as an excuse, a great deal of men who were indebted to her or otherwise under her patronage had been moved out of their current positions into new posts that looked good on the surface but had no real power.
They’ve cut off my access to information, she realized with a sinking heart. In her years, she had seen plenty of people rise and fall from power, and saw all the signs that she was heading to ruin. In the end, no matter how many years of effort she poured in, it only took a single decision from the Emperor to relegate her firmly to the sidelines.
Letting out a soft sigh, she pushed the useless thoughts aside.
I can’t just rely on stirring the waters with the Turkish princess, I need something far more potent if I wish to reverse my fate.
Her mind flitted to the scroll locked away in her bedroom. It had been no easy feat to retrieve something from the Wei household, but the clever girl she’d hired managed to get it done. The Empress Dowager easily recognized it as one of many scrolls of her daughter’s scribbles, but something bothered her about it.
If they really were just scribbles, why did Wenyuan take the trouble of specially requesting them? Surely it cannot only be out of sentiment. There had been reports that Wenyuan spent hours with those scrolls even while being backed into a corner by the late Grand Duke. What manner of foolishness would that be if it were simply due to emotion?
The Empress Dowager grimaced slightly. Her instincts, honed from years of cutthroat competition in the Imperial Harem, told her that the scroll was important–whatever those childish scribbles truly contained, it could uproot everything as it currently stood.
Since my people can’t decode it…The Empress Dowager finished the last of her tea, a glint of fervor in her eyes. I’ll wait until Wenyuan does.
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It was deep into the night when the communication device sounded with a new call. Kayla jolted awake with a startled gasp, her heart thudding in her ears. The dream was quickly fading from her memory, but it left her filled with a nameless terror that was doubled by the glow of the communication device in the dark room.
Collecting herself, Kayla hurried over to her desk. She squinted at the device, pulling an outer robe over her shoulders.
Kayla jolted in shock.
Princess Ashina?
Kayla hastily scrambled to push her hair behind her ears, not having the time to tie it into a bun. She lit a lamp and answered the call with her heart pounding in her throat.
What is it? Why would she call so late at night? Did something happen?
“My princess,” Kayla said, plastering on a smile as the call connected. “It’s an honor to receive a call from you, are you well?”
“Fine, thank you.” Ashina’s voice was distant and cool, her face an impassive mask.
Guess she wasn’t satisfied by my explanation after all. Kayla could hardly blame her.
“I apologize for my messy appearance, please forgive any offense that I have caused,” Kayla said sheepishly, tugging the outer robe tighter around her shoulders..
There was a long pause. “It does not matter to me.”
“Thank you for your magnanimity, my princess,” Kayla replied. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
The princess’ face was hard and silent for a long moment, before it rippled with a look that pierced straight into Kayla’s soul.
“My father has replied to your insolent message,” she said in an icy voice.
“He is interested in talking terms.”
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Cultural Notes
穿小鞋/[Giving someone] Small shoes to wear: A Chinese phrase that means to give a newcomer a hard time through workplace bullying, usually by giving them difficult task and fewer resources.
留一手/Save a hand: A Chinese phrase that means to keep a few cards up your sleeve.
艾灸/Moxibustion: A traditional Chinese remedy that involves burning mugwort on or over specific points on the body, usually meridian points. There are usually three ways this is done: 1) Direct scarring, which involves burning a small amount directly on the skin until the skin blisters, 2) Direct non-scarring, where the burning mugwort is removed before it can damage the skin, and 3) Indirect, where a cigar of mugwort is hovered above or under the meridian point. Even if you use direct scarring moxibustion, you're not meant to overdo it.
Folk Remedies in China: (A bit long so I put it in the spoiler)
In the absence of pricier medicines, many farmers and lower-income families took to folk remedies based on accumulated experience that often verged into superstition. Lin Jie's arm is based on a story from a family friend who lived in a remote area in Inner Mongolia during the 70s, when medical conditions were still lacking. His arm began experiencing intense pain that radiated from the bone outwards, and none of the doctors knew what what to do. The pain would get so bad that he would take to self-harm (according to him, a cut/burn was a different type of pain, one that actually hurt less), and he ended up being hospitalized. One day, he was wandering around the hospital when he saw a trail of hundred RMB bills on the floor, and followed the money until the trail ended outside a patient's room. He had picked up almost 1,000 RMB, which was a huge amount at that point in time, and there were no surveillance cameras or witnesses. But since he's a honest man, he went into the patient's room and returned the money to the owner. The owner was shocked and touched, and took to chatting with my friend, eventually coming upon his ailment. The owner happened to know of a folk remedy that included cutting the arm open and stuffing fresh rooster blood inside the wound, and being rather desperate for a cure, my family friend tried it. Lo and behold, it worked. Why and how? I have no idea. But he never had an issue in his arm again (and he didn't even get infected by the rooster blood).
临阵脱逃/Flee from the battle: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning to panic and run away when shit is about to go down, especially if you're a major player in the situation.
平步青云/A flat step onto azure clouds: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning to rise to great heights with ease/minimal effort.
辰时/Cheng hour: Hours in Ancient China were measured in 2-hour intervals, so the Cheng hour refers to 5-7 am in the morning.
开门见山/Open the door to the mountain: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning to cut to the chase.
Sogdia: An Ancient Iranian civilization around modern-day Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, etc. Many Sogdians resided and worked within the Tang dynasty.
兼听则明偏听则暗/If you listen to everyone, you’ll stand in the light, but if you only listen to one voice, you’ll be left in the dark: An Ancient Chinese saying meaning that you should listen to diverse viewpoints.
强弩之末/A strongbow on its last pull: An Ancient Chinese proverb, equivalent to "on their last legs".
困兽之斗/A trapped beast's struggle: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to the final, frenzied struggle of someone who has been pushed into a corner.
垮台/Stage collapses: A Chinese phrase that means for someone to fall from grace/come to ruin as though the stage they were standing on has collapsed.
大声密谋/Loudly conspire: A Chinese phrase that's often used as a meme, it's used for friendly ribbing at TV shows or movies where the main characters stand around and say their plans out loud in a public space where anyone could hear.