Character Index
Xie Rengui: A farmboy with sharp deductive skills and an excellent intuition for conspiracy.
Hu Qing/Liang Hongfei: Vice-Censor of the Office of Censure, Lord of the Liang clan.
Ke Yongqian: Hu Qing's retainer and friend.
Chen Jian: Chen Caichun's older brother and Li Que's protege. Appears in this chapter as an unnamed Investigator.
Lin Jie: Attendant Censor, he was friends with Zhang Wuxian. Deceased as of last chapter.
Zhang Wuxian: An Attendant Censor, Lin Jie's friend. Much more easygoing than his friend.
Sun Ruhui: Right Secretariat of Justice, Kayla's advisor and supporter.
Wei Guang: Imperial Edict Bearer, Minister of the Office of Censor, Kayla's godfather and the Imperial Princess' teacher + research partner.
General Yan: Commander of Xiazhou, reluctantly allied with Kayla. He has been decided as the commander of the reinforcements to be sent to the Khagan.
Liu Hongyu: Former Secretariat Director who died under house arrest after Kayla accused him of lese-majeste.
Li Sanjin: A servant in Liu Hongyu's household who was planted there by the Empress Dowager, gave false testimony against Liu Hongyu. Knowing that the Empress Dowager couldn't step out to interfere because of her own hand in the matter, the Grand Duke forced Li Sanjin to accuse Kayla of coercing and bribing him into giving false testimony. The matter was resolved after Kayla forced the Grand Duke's hand by threatening to take him down with her.
Lady Lin: A blind divinator who exchanged her sight for knowledge of the future.
Chuluo Khagan: Khagan of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate and Kayla's father-in-law.
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Xie Rengui awkwardly stumbled through giving a statement for the Bureau. His proximity to Hu Qing and Ke Yongqian had quashed his awe for the powerful elites of the capital, but he remained intimidated by the faceless Imperial Investigators and the aura of danger they exuded.
“Let’s confirm a few details,” the Investigator opposite him said. “About how long passed between your discovery and the Vice-Censor’s arrival?”
“I, um, about half an hour? Well, maybe a little longer, or shorter,” Xie Rengui hazarded.
“You’re not sure?”
“No,” Xie Rengui said, shamefaced.
An Investigator was crouching on the floor on his fingers and toes, body as flat as a plank as it hovered above the ground as he carefully examined the dust layers.
“Less than that. I’d say it was between a quarter of an hour.” The Investigator on the floor turned his masked face towards them. The sound of his voice rang clear with the brightness of youth. Though Xie Rengui couldn’t tell, the man seemed to be smiling as he spoke.
“It must have felt longer because of how frightened you were.”
He must be younger than me, Xie Rengui thought, a little dazed by everything happening around him.
The Investigator questioning him cleared his throat, drawing Xie Rengui’s attention back.
“Now, did you touch anything in the house after discovering the scene?”
“No sir.”
“When was your first meeting with Attendant Censor Lin?”
“Six days ago at the Office of Censor.”
“And when was your last?”
“Three days ago.”
“What for?”
“To deliver a note to his residence.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know.”
The Investigator seemed to be staring at him. “For who?”
“The note?”
“Yes, the note.”
Xie Rengui fought to keep his cool. “For Lord Liang.”
The Investigator’s eyes bore into Xie Rengui through the holes in his mask. The man didn't follow the line of questioning, abruptly changing tracks.
“How many times have you seen him before this?”
“Only two, the first meeting and three days ago.”
“How did you know it was him when you entered? His back was facing the door.”
Lin Jie’s back was, thankfully, no longer facing the door. The Investigators had carefully inventoried and documented everything about the crime scene before removing the man’s stiff body from the noose. The rope, with its loop cut open, still hung from the rafters. Xie Rengui felt vaguely nauseous.
“I recognized him from the back, and then I circled to the front to make sure.”
“And then you walked out?”
“Ran out,” Xie Rengui corrected the man. The Investigator was trying to trip him up now, checking if Xie Rengui had lied on any of the details. But recognizing that only made Xie Rengui more nervous. The Investigator examined Xie Rengui’s face and continued lobbing questions at him. Just when Xie Rengui was sure that his head would burst or that he would choke on the claustrophobic air in the house, the Investigator declared that they were finished.
Xie Rengui stumbled out of the house, breathing in deeply to steady himself. He glanced around and found his master, jogging over to Hu Qing.
“My lord.”
Hu Qing nodded at him. “Finished giving your statement? Good, go home and get some rest.”
“Let me help,” Xie Rengui pleaded.
“You’ve done enough,” Hu Qing dismissed him.
“I can do more,” Xie Rengui insisted. “I need to get something done after seeing that. Please, my lord.”
Hu Qing paused and finally fully turned to face Xie Rengui, looking mildly taken aback as he looked Xie Rengui up and down as though seeing him for the first time.
“Well,” Hu Qing murmured in surprise before nodding. “Alright then, go keep an eye on Attendant Censor Zhang and see him safely home.”
“As you wish, my lord!”
With a fresh purpose at hand, Xie Rengui was reinvigorated. He walked over to where Zhang Wuxian was being questioned inside the carriage, one Investigator sitting across from the Attendant Censor and one leaning in the doorway. The one leaning against the door glanced at Xie Rengui, who subtly glanced at Hu Qing. The Investigator’s gaze followed on over to where Hu Qing gave a small nod. The Investigator nodded back and turned back to Zhang Wuxian.
Xie Rengui waited by as a distraught Zhang Wuxian was thoroughly shaken down for information, and then followed as the man was escorted back to his house with great courtesy. The Attendant Censor, now bereft of his friend and fellow official, seemed to be lost in despondency, but Xie Rengui knew the man's mind was probably sharper at this time than any other.
Zhang Wuxian gave Xie Rengui a weary thank you and headed into his residence and the worried embrace of his wife. Neither Xie Rengui nor Zhang Wuxian missed the fact that an Investigator remained on watch at the small residence. That would be Zhang Wuxian’s life from now on until orders said otherwise, him and his wife and some faceless stranger watching from a small distance away.
Xie Rengui was shuffled back to Lin Jie’s house and into his master’s line of sight. A little unsettled from his first encounter with murder, he followed Hu Qing back to the Liang residence with stiff limbs.
He’d seen death up close before, a big strong man who dropped dead in the field one day before Xie Rengui with no warning. Suicide too had become less rare as more and more farmers in the village came close to insolvency. But the crime scene of a murder, not the aftermath of white-hot rage in a fight that bashed someone’s head in or the rumors of a crime that happened a few houses over, that was a new sight for him.
“What a pity, if the Attendant Censor had not died, he would’ve had a good career,” Xie Rengui muttered when he was finally in Ke Yongqian’s company again. The senior retainer frowned at him.
“If you feel nauseous, puke outside.”
Xie Rengui shook his head. “It was a clean death. I won’t be sick.”
Ke Yongqian regarded him silently for a moment. “Waters in the capital too deep for you after all?”
“It looked like a suicide,” Xie Rengui said instead of giving an answer. He looked to Ke Yongqian with the vulnerable eyes of a boy, seeming ten years younger than his actual age.
“I’d heard the stories, of course, but…this is why they say that those who are good at divination won’t give fortune-tellings, and those who are good at observing won’t speak on what they see, isn’t it?”
Ke Yongqian sighed. “Close enough.”
“Just talent isn’t enough. Luck isn’t either. Even having the patronage of men like the Duke and our Lord…it’s not enough, is it?”
“Of course not.”
Xie Rengui lowered his gaze to his calloused hands. They were more used to holding farming tools than writing utensils. They might have stayed that way, if he had been satisfied with clinging to his ancestral home as a tenant farmer. He closed his fingers over rough palms.
“So this is what it means to be close to the whirlpool of power. No wonder Zhang Wuxian said that the capital devours people.”
Ke Yongqian stiffened. “Watch your tongue, you fool!”
The hissed words seemed to go unheard.
“It looks like this will be more difficult than I thought,” Xie Rengui murmured. The hunched over form of his body seemed to swell, gaining the fervent energy of a determined man.
Ke Yongqian breathed out slowly in recognition.
He’ll be fine, Ke Yongqian thought to himself. The farm boy would go far in life.
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Hu Qing stood before Wenyuan, feeling more nervous than he ever had before. He had failed to carry out Wenyuan’s orders before and got nothing more than words of concern for it. This time was different.
When Hu Qing had failed to destroy the Grand Duke’s study, Wenyuan had been filled to the brim with concern. Now, Wenyuan’s reaction was inscrutable. This wasn’t the fretting Wenyuan who nagged and acted like an indulgent old father. This was the Wenyuan that other people were faced with.
The Duke was perfectly still. Wenyuan sat at his desk, hands folded on an opened scroll, staring steadily at absolutely nothing at all. Wenyuan had received the news earlier in the day already, and sent Hu Qing a worried message asking if he was alright. That, at least, was the same. But now, when Hu Qing gave him the report face to face, Wenyuan seemed to sink deeper and deeper into stillness until he’d become a statue.
After a long moment of dread, Wenyuan spoke.
“It’s truly regrettable. I will pay for his funeral and pension the family.” His eyes moved to Hu Qing’s face with a familiar expression of concern. “Are you alright?”
Relief swept over Hu Qing like a wave.
“I’m fine.”
The look of concern eased up somewhat.
“How about Zhang Wuxian?”
Hu Qing shrugged uneasily. “I don’t think he took it well. It’s probably my fault. Once Xie Rengui told me the news…well, I didn’t think it was possible. Lin Jie is not the type to commit suicide, as you know. Protocol demanded that I make a report as soon as possible, so I had no time. I forced Zhang Wuxian to go with me and see the crime scene because I thought he might be able to sniff out the problem, and he did. He did, but,” Hu Qing glanced down at his feet. “I think he hates us.”
Wenyuan’s face had gone blank again.
“I didn’t want to leave an opening for your enemies to accuse me of breaking protocol,” Hu Qing weakly explained. “But in the first place, I was the one who handed it to Lin Jie and failed to provide suitable protection for him. I thought that it would single him out.”
He suddenly felt disgusted with himself and his flimsy excuses. Hu Qing sighed and shook his head before kneeling on one knee.
“Hu Qing!” Wenyuan shot to his feet in alarm.
“I got him killed and dragged you into a mess. I’ve failed you,” Hu Qing said grimly. “I’m sorry.”
Wenyuan circled round the desk to pull him up, not quite making it there. One of Wenyuan’s sleeves caught on a pile of scrolls and sent them all tumbling to the ground. Both of them ended up on the floor, picking up the unruly scrolls that took refuge beneath the couches.
Hu Qing patiently waited for Wenyuan to grab all the scrolls before lowering the couch back to the ground. The lot of them were dumped back onto Wenyuan’s desk with little regard for structural integrity and looked ready for another escapade.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
His eyes were drawn from the pile by a hand landing on his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be apologizing, I’m the one who should be sorry,” Wenyuan said. There it was, the same Wenyuan as always. Hu Qing felt a twist of guilt sharper than any of the preceding ones.
“No, it’s my incompetence,” he insisted.
Wenyuan shook his head. “It’s not. Don’t be ridiculous, Hu Qing. If you’d assigned him guards or high-level security, anyone seeking to undermine us would’ve turned every trick they knew to destroy his career. I was the one who told you to move forward with this, and the one who told you to leave everything to him, and now we’ve lost a good man for it. I should’ve assigned someone from the Bureau to watch him discreetly. This is what Sun Ruhui was warning me about…” He trailed off into a sigh.
“My lord,” Hu Qing said, starting to feel helpless. Wenyuan turned his face aside.
“I’ll leave it to you to notify his family. Tell them that we’ll be conducting an autopsy, phrase it delicately if you can. But first, get every single document he’s requested during the investigation, all his notes, everything you can get your hands on. And have Zhang Wuxian go through them under guard. He already hates us, it can’t be helped. But he knows best how Lin Jie’s mind worked, so I’ll have him figure it out.”
“I can send Xie Rengui to help,” Hu Qing said.
“Xie Rengui? Ah, yes, him. Do so,” Wenyuan said. “Also, round up every person in the Office of Censor who could’ve come into contact with Lin Jie’s request forms or the documents themselves, even in passing. I’ll do the same with the Bureau–but make sure to tell them it’s my order when you bring them in. I’ll take full responsibility for the arrests.”
Hu Qing stirred in alarm. “But the court is already riled up because of the commander for the reinforcements and the reforms, if you arrest officials because of this–”
“It’ll become a problem no matter what,” Wenyuan said firmly. “Now go. I’m sure that Lin Jie found something important–the secret must be in the documents. If the pieces are right there, then I’ll have them put together, one way or another.”
“It will be done,” Hu Qing promised.
Wenyuan glanced up at the rafters of his study, sighing quietly.
“You would know better than me, Hu Qing,” he said absently. “Is hanging a painful death?”
Hu Qing’s breath stuttered. “Not for a man his weight,” he replied.
Wenyuan looked thoughtful for a moment and turned his attention back to Hu Qing.
“The envoy arrives tomorrow, so we’ll have a busy night ahead of us,” Wenyuan said. “No matter what the court stirs up, or what Zhang Wuxian says or tries or whatever else, keep your calm and direct all questions to me. Do you understand? Especially if it’s from Wei Guang.”
Hu Qing nodded then immediately afterwards shook his head.
“But then the envoy–”
Wenyuan stepped forward and grabbed his shoulders, face twisted in frustration. “It’s decided, Hu Qing! And if it’s already decided, then that’s that.”
He let go, carefully patting away the creases in Hu Qing’s robes. “Go on, I’ll tell the Investigators to help you out. I also have quite a few arrests to make.”
Hu Qing patted Wenyuan’s hand. “Okay.”
Wenyuan nodded encouragingly, and Hu Qing left with a heavy heart.
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The communication device was alight with faces sick with worry.
“They’re investigating it as a murder? But how? We left no traces!” One of the men complained. The veteran amongst them rolled his eyes derisively.
“By whose standards?”
“I’d like to see you do better!”
“Sure you would, after damning us all!” The veteran roared back. The man curled in on himself, sulkily concealing his expression from the rest of the call.
“We have no options left, we need to take action immediately,” a weary voice cut in before a new round of complaints or arguments could erupt. The speaker was a haggard man, easily the most worn-out of any of them. He looked worse than before, the weight of his years showing in his sallow color and hollowed cheeks. Life had not been kind to any of them. The world was never fair, but it especially enjoyed beating drowning dogs like these. Some disappeared into the unforgiving waves of malice, and those that survived were none the better off for it.
What had been a bubbling resentment in their younger years had slowly settled into a cold determination that allowed them to endure the scattered and countless humiliations that fell upon their shoulders like feathers and weighed there like rocks.
“We’re out of time,” the haggard man said with emphasis. His voice was quiet and raspy, coming out almost as a wheeze. But it made every man on the call tense instinctively. Something seemed to be stirring awake in the haggard man’s beaten-down body, something that wanted out even if it had to claw its path.
“What have we to fear?” The haggard man asked. “What have we to lose?! There is nothing more they can take from us but our lives, and be assured that they most certainly will, whether we take action or not!”
“Exactly!” The veteran roared.
“But…wouldn’t it be going too far? We’ve already committed so many sins, but this–!” One of the men protested.
“Sins?” The haggard man chuckled, an ugly sound twisted with spite. “Whose sins are these?”
He glanced around, but no one dared to speak.
“By whose hand were we forced onto this path? By whose will? Should I have been left even a single path to survival, I would not have dragged myself through the mud like this! And now you’re afraid? Their hands are clean and unblemished, but their souls are stained with filth of every kind! What offense have we committed that weighs against theirs? What have we to lower our heads in shame for, when they sit before the high altars unabashed? Don’t turn back now that we’re almost at the ending point. We must take action now, or meet our destruction at their hands!” The haggard man went on, the flame in his eyes slowly quieting down as he ran out of energy. He settled back into his weary demeanor and clasped his hands into his lap.
“But now?” One of the men asked in a small voice. “We’ve only just…well..” He glanced nervously about. “The Bureau is onto us, aren’t they?”
“They can’t be,” the veteran cut in.
“They must be! How else would they have known Lin Jie was murdered? And the things that man was looking into–!”
“It’s impossible!” The veteran insisted.
“The Bureau…once they dig deep enough, they will find us,” the haggard man said.
“You said this method was secure!” One of the men shouted accusingly.
“There is no method that can completely avoid detection,” the haggard man replied. “This has protected us for years, but any secret in this world can be figured out, with enough cunning and determination. Now the time has come for us to end this.”
He glanced at the other faces on the call. Did their happiness lie at the end of this? Or only a new form of suffering? It no longer mattered. They’d come this far, crawling and writhing but still desperately alive.
“I vote to proceed, and I urge each and every one of you to do the same.”
He took a deep breath. “Unto a new world,” the haggard man said, raising his hand. The veteran was first to follow.
“Unto a new world,” he echoed. One by one, the other men grimly raised their hands in agreement until they had a unanimous yes.
“Then we have an agreement,” the veteran said, swelling with excitement.
“I’ll see it done by tomorrow night,” the haggard man promised. With that, he left the call and returned to the reality of the dusty storeroom in which he sat. His mind traveled the endless miles stretching between him and the capital, winding towards the lethal destination of his intent.
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Kayla winced as Wei Guang paced the study. It was so late at night that they were crossing into the next morning, but an incident like this, only hours before the Turkish envoy arrived, wasn’t something that could wait for a better time.
Wei Guang abruptly stopped in his tracks, pointing at her face accusingly.
“You, Wenyuan, are an arrogant fool!”
The uncharacteristic outburst faded as soon as it had sparked, but Kayla’s long years of living with her mother told her this was just the start. The thought irritated her far more than it should have.
“This is a great predicament for us,” Wei Guang said, once again bearing the semblance of rational disappointment.
“I apologize for giving your subordinate an assignment without your permission,” Kayla said. “It wasn’t proper of me.”
“That’s not the point, Wenyuan. A man is dead,” Wei Guang said, his voice hard.
Kayla gave him an exaggerated look of astonished derision.
“You’re serious,” she said in disbelief.
You’re saying that?! You?! She knew what he was actually angry about–that she had dragged him into her plot and risked his career.
“Don’t play the fool with me, Wenyuan! You know full well that an official of court is a completely different matter than some nameless assassins!” Wei Guang hissed.
“I’m aware,” Kayla said. Why else had she taken so much effort setting things up for the Grand Duke?
“Then you should know that getting a man from my office killed is not something to laugh off!” Wei Guang looked to be actually angry now, a sight Kayla had rarely seen before.
“I said I would take responsibility,” Kayla said.
“Can you? A dead official who worked his way up from the provinces, from poverty, that’s the perfect spark for a moral outrage! Cases like these are the things you need to avoid the most, pitiful individuals whose deaths far outweigh their lives! Think, Wenyuan! If he’s been murdered, then one of our investigations has already gotten someone killed! Do you really think the Emperor won’t even ask about what he was looking into? And then what? Will you admit to investigating the First and Second Princes against his wishes?” Wei Guang’s eyes flashed with rage. “If he hasn’t been murdered, then between the two of us, our leadership managed to push a promising official to suicide within months of his arrival at the capital! Certainly, either case by itself can be smoothed over one way or another. But on top of everything else?”
Wei Guang furiously swept out an arm at the scrolls piled throughout the study. “After getting General Yan assigned to your father-in-law? After some rolling out the reforms? After establishing the Office of Censor?” He glared at Kayla. “I had thought you a promising man, but you’re still a boy after all! No page is ever fully turned in this court, everything piles up!”
Kayla remained silent, letting him rage on.
“Everything up until now will become weapons against you, against us! Anyone who had doubts about your grandfather’s death will be voicing them now. The death of your uncles? Your accusations against Liu Hongyu? The arrests you made as the Left Secretariat of Justice? Li Sanjin’s charge of coercion and bribery against you? There are openings everywhere! So long as you continue to succeed, none of it matters. But the moment they smell blood, they’ll pounce upon even the tiniest scrap, and you’ve left them far more than that. The list is very, very long for just a few months, Wenyuan!” Wei Guang said through gritted teeth. “So tell me, how can you take responsibility for this?”
The words stung, but Wei Guang wasn’t finished yet.
“After everything that your mother did for you–! I pinned my hopes on you because of her, but now I see that even the judgment of a woman as wise as her can be clouded by maternal love!”
Something about the way he said it set her off.
“And just what did she do? Are you ever going to explain, or just dangle it in front of me like jerky before a dog?” Kayla snapped before she could stop herself.
Wei Guang’s gaze was so cold that Kayla drew back.
“Did you not wonder why your magic was stronger in the capital than elsewhere? It’s not the capital, Wenyuan. Go further north of the city gates and you’ll find just how much more powerful your nullification abilities are,” Wei Guang snarled.
“North of the city gates?” The pieces of information swirled in her mind, refusing to fit into a clear picture. “What’s north of the city gates?”
“As a maternal nephew, you never really attended the Imperial Family’s rites, but to not even know where your own mother’s tomb is located?” Wei Guang asked, his voice as steely as the edge of a blade.
Oh. Realization crushed down on her.
“She–what did she–it was like Lady Lin’s exchange, wasn’t it?” Kayla asked, her voice coming small and shaky.
“She used the last few years of her life to fuel a spell that amplifies your magic,” Wei Guang said mercilessly. “Even in death, her corpse labors on for you! I knew it the second I saw her shroud, the one she hand-embroidered herself. It disgusted me, that she would be so blinded by affection that she tore away from this country the asset of her mind. I had thought, I had hoped, that you had grown worthier of her sacrifice, but I see now that you will be the master of your own ruin!”
Kayla turned her face away sharply, horror clawing the walls of her chest.
“That’s why in the North…” Kayla muttered, unconsciously lifting a hand to cover her mouth.
She’d already known her son would die. So it wasn’t for Wenyuan, who would never live to use his abilities…it was for me. A familiar nausea tugged at her stomach.
“Good heavens,” Kayla said. Wei Guang’s cold eyes cut into the side of her face, watching as obligation and gratitude dragged her into the murky depths of guilt.
Kayla’s mind cleared abruptly. No, it wasn’t for me. It was for anyone who she could drag in to clean up a mess she couldn’t fix herself. Even Lady Lin said that I wasn’t the first choice, just a backup, a spare. It was the Princess’ own choice to do this!
Kayla straightened up from where she had hunched in on herself. That was her choice, and this was mine. I’ll take responsibility for what I’ve done, and no more than that. Lin Jie’s death was my fault, but the Imperial Princess’ sacrifices, however heavy they were, that’s not my cross to carry.
She turned her attention to Wei Guang, face a mask of cool composure. The man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I am grateful for my mother’s sacrifices,” Kayla said. “But they have nothing to do with the current situation, do they? Let’s focus on the problem at hand–Lin Jie’s death is a tragedy for him and his family, and indeed for the entire justice system. Politically though, it’s a long-awaited opening for everyone who wants to see me beneath the Yellow Springs, and there’s no shortage of them. Luckily for me, the Turkish envoy sent by my father-in-law is here.”
“Relying on your father-in-law to resolve this? Are you looking to destroy your career?” Wei Guang said in disbelief. Kayla gave him a wolfish smile.
“To advance it, godfather. People will certainly try to make me look bad before my in-law’s envoy in order to undermine my position, but I intend to turn that into a bargaining chip. I’ll tell them that we have not fought a war abroad in a very long time, and people are uneasy at sending reinforcements to fight in someone else’s conflict. As a result, I who have supported sending reinforcements to honor our treaty and friendship, have become the subject of great scrutiny and disdain from my fellow officials. That is not evidence of a personal failing, but a greater unease that threatens to undermine our alliance–that is what I will use to ask for further assurances and concessions from the Khagan,” Kayla said. “He will accept my excuses and give them, for he knows that this will not destroy my career, and if it does not, then he’s better off having me in his debt than in resentment of him.”
Wei Guang let out a huff. “And our own officials? How will you deal with them?”
“Just as they will use Lin Jie’s death against me, I will use it against them,” Kayla replied. “If this is a murder, which it is, then there is a conspiracy dangerous enough to undermine the entire court, and the reforms become all the more necessary. If we pass this off as a suicide, then it’s the result of a psychotic break after the intensive overwork caused by false reports. We raise the charges on everyone involved to include hounding an official to his death, and popularize his story through plays that depict his death as a heroic tragedy of a low-ranking official who stood his ground but was forced to his death by greedy landlords. It’s just a matter of how to control the narrative.”
“Do you really think that would work?” Wei Guang demanded.
“Of course not. Nothing ever goes completely according to plan, so I don’t expect this to be an exception. But if I’m willing to pump enough money into buying public opinion in my favor, then it will work. I can borrow if needed, but I will manage it. If I do end up uncovering the conspiracy, I won’t even have to do that,” Kayla shot back. “It’s a fucking tragedy, but I’ll be damned if I let it ruin me!”
Wei Guang didn’t blink at the sudden coarseness of her language.
“Very well then,” Wei Guang said after a long moment of consideration. He looked her up and down, genuine curiosity in his eyes. “You really take after the Grand Duke, don’t you?”
“Good night, godfather. Get some rest. I still have plenty of work waiting for me,” Kayla replied.
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Cultural Notes
善易者不卜 善观者无言/Someone good at divination does not tell fortunes, someone good at observing doesn't speak on them: The first half originates from a pre-Qin proverb, it eventually developed into a couplet. The proverb is used to refer to the fact that if you are able to see/understand what others cannot, including secrets that people may want to keep hidden or knowledge that people don't actually want to know even if they say they do (ex: no one wants to be told they'll die young but if you do a fortune telling, that might just be what you find), then you should keep that to yourself.
权力的漩涡/Whirlpool of power: A Chinese term used to describe the high-stakes and dangerous games of the powerful.
吃人的社会/Society that eats people: A term originating from modern Chinese writers who criticized late-stage feudalism as it manifested in China. It has since come to be used in a variety of contexts to describe unreasonable, exploitative, or self-cannibalizing situations/hierarchies/power structures.
痛打落水狗/Beating the dog that's fallen into water: A Chinese saying that means to kick a man when he's down.
零零碎碎的羞辱/Scattered humiliations: A Chinese phrase used to refer to continuous harassment.
庙堂之上/On the high altars and temples: A term used to refer to being in power, to being an official. Since the government is traditionally associated with the court and religious rites, hence the altar/court and the temple.
Imperial tombs: There were a lot of those from the Tang Dynasty, but 5 of 20 known tombs are located in what is now known as 富平县/Fupin County, just to the north of modern-day Xi'an. This is where I've deposited the fictional Imperial Princess' tomb as well.
黄泉/Yellow Springs: A term in Ancient China used to describe the afterlife or as an euphemism for death. Researchers theorize that this term originated from the yellow dirt layers prevalent in many areas of central China, where gravediggers likely would have encountered groundwater quite frequently as well, resulting in the concept of the Yellow Spring (this is just one theory out of several but it seems quite likely).