Character Index
Duan Wuxie: A Senior Investigator in the Bureau.
Qin Yang: A young Investigator who died en route to Dengzhou after an assassination attempt against Kayla.
Tan Hui: Archduke Qi's former head-of-security, currently still his retainer.
Archduke Qi: The Emperor's half-brother, formerly the teacher of the Imperial Princes, fell from favor after the death of the Sixth Prince.
Guo Qian: An old archivist under investigation for Lin Jie's death.
Wu Zhihuan: The scapegoat of the conspirators. Executed for the deaths of the First and Second Princes.
Archduke Wei: Archduke Qi's younger brother from the same mother. Father of Princess Chengxia, the Wu equivalent of Ashina who married into the Khaganate.
Zhou Ying: The current Emperor. Took the throne in a palace coup after the former Emperor changed his heir to a three-year-old on his deathbed.
Lin Yaoguang: The Grand Duke's money launderer. Involved with Archduke Qi.
Ju Shou: The Third Prince's original poison tester.
Linhua: Ju Shou's mistress.
Xuhuan: Ju Shou's only son with Linhua. Technically illegitimate.
Sima Qi: The Third Prince's second poison tester, delegated from the Bureau.
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Duan Wuxie steeled himself as he entered the Director’s study. Zhao Wenyuan greeted him with a smile, gesturing for Duan Wuxie to take a seat.
“Senior Investigator, you said that you have something for me?”
“Indeed,” Duan Wuxie said. “I was going through the archives on your request the other day, but I came upon something concerning, and thought it best to this to your attention.”
He handed over a dossier, thoughtfully arranging the files in the order that he wanted Zhao Wenyuan to see them.
Duan Wuxie watched as the Director flipped through the dossier.
“Director, if you recall the assassination attempt against you earlier this year, four of the five Investigators on duty that night were killed in that incident,” Duan Wuxie said. “As for the fifth one, he went missing for some time, but was found dead along the roadside, halfway to Dengzhou.”
“I remember that,” Wenyuan murmured. “I recall he was your student, wasn’t he? My condolences.”
“Thank you for the kind sentiment,” Duan Wuxie replied. “But Qin Yang wasn’t just my student. He also studied under Tan Hui, the retainer of Archduke Qi. That man remains in the Archduke’s service even now.”
“He’s from the same hometown as Guo Qian,” Wenyuan said in surprise, stopping at the words marked in red ink.
“Yes,” Duan Wuxie agreed. “And he met with Guo Qian multiple times while he was stationed in the capital.”
“Then what’s this about Wu Zhihuan?” Wenyuan asked, pointing to a different line. Duan Wuxie pulled out the corresponding report.
“Tan Hui also met with Wu Zhihuan while they were both in the capital,” Duan Wuxie said.
Zhao Wenyuan was silent for a long moment as he finished reading the report.
“This is all from over a decade ago,” Wenyuan said. “It doesn’t prove anything. As the favored retainer of a favored noble, it only makes sense that Tan Hui was well-connected. Half the notable figures in the capital have met with Tan Hui at some point.”
“I know that the evidence is lacking at best,” Duan Wuxie replied. “But I think there’s a potential here that we can’t ignore.”
“No,” Zhao Wenyuan agreed, his eyes still glued to the pages. “This may not be enough to build a case against him, but it’s more than enough to warrant our concern.”
His gaze flicked up sharply to Duan Wuxie’s face.
“Bring me everything we have on Archduke Qi.”
Duan Wuxie hesitated as to whether to speak directly or to simply go along with it, and finally settled on both. “Right here, Director. I had a feeling that you would want to see these files.”
He placed the files on Wenyuan’s desk.
“But in all honesty, even if Tan Hui is involved, it would be difficult to construct a case against Archduke Qi. There’s a reason why he hasn’t been arrested until now even though there have been several raids in his house.”
He watched Zhao Wenyuan’s reaction carefully as he continued. “The Archduke’s health does not permit it.”
The raids were usually not because anyone thought the Archduke was behind some crime or another, but that there was a vengeful Emperor and a spiteful Empress Dowager to satisfy. The Archduke was barely lucid half the time.
Zhao Wenyuan flipped through the file, the look on his face growing increasingly grim.
“I see,” Zhao Wenyuan murmured. “There’s a visitation log, do we have information on the visits themselves?”
“Mostly some of the Archduke’s old servants,” Duan Wuxie replied. “They all scattered to the winds and stayed low when the Archduke fell from grace, but he’d been a good master, so those who were brave enough to risk it came back to visit him from time to time. Some of his old servants passed away during the initial investigation against Archduke Qi, when the interrogations got out of hand, but Archduke Qi used his own money to compensate their families. So some of the family members also come to pay their respects from time to time.”
“So what are the contents of the visits?” Wenyuan asked.
“Usually just bringing some food or household goods, they stay briefly to try to speak with Archduke Qi if he’s lucid enough to warrant an attempt, and then take their leaves,” Duan Wuxie said. “However, they all come into contact with Tan Hui in the process.”
Zhao Wenyuan nodded slowly. “Who’s Archduke Qi’s doctor? The file doesn’t list one.”
“He doesn’t…he doesn’t have one,” Duan Wuxie said cautiously. “Because of his situation, the Imperial Healers do not treat him, and he does not have the funds or influence to maintain a household doctor of his own. When he is ill, they usually bring in a doctor who treats commoners, since those who treat nobility are more sensitive to the Archduke’s unique status.”
Wenyuan was quiet for a long moment.
“So he brings in different doctors as he needs.”
“Yes sir.”
“And they’re all doctors of questionable ability who are likely to be intimidated by his status,” Wenyuan went on.
Sensing something was off, Duan Wuxie answered with trepidation.
“Yes sir.”
Wenyuan pushed the file towards Duan Wuxie, tapping his finger on the diagnoses.
“Who diagnosed him in the first place?”
Duan Wuxie sucked in a deep breath.
“I believe his wife and brother were greatly disturbed his behavior, and brought in a healer, a commoner, to diagnose Archduke Qi.”
“Archduke Wei seems to genuinely believe the diagnosis,” Wenyuan remarked, flipping through an adjacent file on his desk. “The brothers are close, aren’t they?”
“Yes sir.” Duan Wuxie began to feel a faint sense of dread, mixed with a thrill of excitement.
“Close enough to join hands in fooling the Emperor?”
“I can only speculate, but I would say yes,” Duan Wuxie said reluctantly.
Wenyuan let out a soft sigh.
“I see. Arrest Tan Hui and send our men to guard Archduke Qi’s household.”
“Sir,” Duan Wuxie began to say.
“If I’m wrong, I’ll take responsibility. But in the meantime, dig up everything Archduke Qi’s old servants and what they do after their visits,” Wenyuan ordered.
“As you wish, Director. But perhaps you should clear this with the Emperor first?” Duan Wuxie suggested.
“Of course,” Wenyuan said, his eyes fixated on Archduke Qi’s health docket again. “Thank you, Senior Investigator Duan.”
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Kayla stared at Archduke Qi’s file, conflicted at her decision. She was beginning to have second thoughts about approaching the Emperor and saying “Hey, your mentally ill brother might be faking it, is it alright for me to put him through a traumatizing process to confirm it?”
She wasn’t hesitant because the Emperor might refuse, but rather because he might agree.
If I’m wrong, I’m putting that poor man through hell for absolutely nothing. And if the Emperor doesn’t believe that I’m wrong, Archduke Qi and his family might die anyway.
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But Tan Hui was suspicious–the evidence was circumstantial, but there was proof that he could be found in the same place at the same time with both Wu Zhihuan and with Guo Qian, that suspicious old archivist. It was barely proof at all, but she couldn’t afford to ignore it.
Is it even possible for Archduke Qi to be involved? There are extremely reasonable explanations for his lack of long-term medical care and his poor health. His former servants were treated well enough to the point that the whole capital knew it. The only thing really suspicious about him is that he’s connected to Tan Hui.
If the dossier was true, then Archduke Qi wasn’t capable of doing much at all, much less ordering Tan Hui to set up some elaborate plot with Guo Qian and Wu Zhihuan over the course of years.
Her eyes landed on the latest entry from only a week ago.
“Subject was observed writhing in pain and crying for help continuously over the course of several hours. Subject claimed that there were bugs eating his face and had to be restrained by his household members to stop him after excessive scratching. A doctor was summoned but once again found nothing wrong with the subject’s health.”
Flipping back through the endless reports, the reported incident blended into the countless other similar ones.
“Subject observed covering his ears and pleading to be left alone in the courtyard. He was alone at the time.”
“Subject reported a headache earlier in the day and refused breakfast. After being cajoled to eat some porridge in the evening, subject vomited and took to bed.”
“Period of unresponsiveness continues. Subject did not respond during a visit from his childhood nursemaid but seemed to briefly regain awareness of his surroundings later in the day.”
There was a clear pattern. Archduke Qi’s energy levels would begin dropping, then he would begin to experience heightened fear and emotion, evidenced by his nonviolent outbursts towards his household members. Then came the psychosomatic migraines and auditory hallucinations, the rejection of food and the inability to sleep well, and then a period of catatonic unresponsiveness. Eventually, the Archduke would begin to recover until briefly reaching a baseline of relative health and lucidity, which would eventually deteriorate into the same cycle again.
The man was underweight and prone to falling ill to various seasonal maladies, all of which was exacerbated by and also fed into his other symptoms. Even if Archduke Qi simply keeled over and never got up again, no one would be surprised. He was a sick man who needed help that he wasn’t getting. Or at least it seemed so from the surface.
If he’s faking it though…Her wavering confidence faltered even more.
Who the hell could fake all this? There was a reason why Archduke Qi wasn’t even considered a suspect by seasoned experts like Duan Wuxie.
But they also thought that about Guo Qian. She hadn’t exactly endeared herself to anyone by interrogating a loyal old staff member on the verge of retirement. But now, the evidence was beginning to show that Kayla’s hunch had been right.
A hunch. It was an almost laughable thing to go off of. But after the deaths of two Imperial Princes right under her watch, Kayla couldn’t afford to ignore any threats, real or imagined.
She flipped further back through the dossier, taking in the details she’d only skimmed over before. Archduke Qi had been heavily watched under the Empress Dowager’s watchful eye, ever since he’d shown himself as a reasonably intelligent young boy. Years of covert observations and reports, but the details were limited and provided a broad sketch at best, one of a sickly young boy, lonely and desperate for knowledge. When Archduke Wei had been returned to the care of his own mother, having been delegated out to be raised by another consort as one of the Empress Dowager’s many power plays, the reports grew more infrequent. The brothers got along very well. They each had a weakness in each other, saving the Empress Dowager quite a bit of trouble in how to handle them.
When Archduke Qi had made a shockingly good marriage by the previous Emperor’s own edict, the reports had come back in full swing. There was an abrupt cut off from when the current Emperor had first taken the throne, and then the reports had slowly trickled back as the Empress Dowager exerted pressure over the Bureau.
Some of the materials were missing, or redacted with black splotches of ink. The reason was obvious. The timeline coincided exactly with the pregnancy of the Archduchess, the birth of a baby boy, and the subsequent death of the infant in his cradle.
Kayla glanced away, sick to her stomach.
A cycle of malice indeed.
It was no accident that Archduke Qi spent half his childhood bedridden in the Imperial Palace, where the best healers were available at call. Whenever his mother gained the Emperor’s favor, his health would magically improve in leaps and bounds. Once that favor faded, Archduke Qi’s health would deteriorate accordingly.
The Empress Dowager really cleared the path for the Emperor, didn’t she?
No matter how clever or gifted Archduke Qi was, he could never be considered for the throne with such a fragile constitution. As if he understood as much himself, Archduke Qi stayed out of politics as a young adult, and Archduke Wei followed his brother’s example.
He tried to reject the marriage when his mother arranged it for him, Kayla noted. Archduchess Qi had hailed from the illustrious Gong clan from the Qinghe region, a match that held clear political connotations. While the Archduchess had simply gone along with her father’s wishes, Archduke Qi had been much more reluctant. The records showed little about the specifics, the marriage taking the Empress Dowager by surprise when the Emperor had suddenly given an edict approving the match, but a simple line in the report told Kayla everything she needed to know.
“Refused several times, acceded to the edict.”
After the wedding, Archduke Qi refused to share a bed with his wife even on their wedding night. The poor Archduchess was constantly washing her face with tears, alone in a household where even her husband didn’t want her. But between her pitiful circumstances and the Archduke’s health deteriorating once again, the Empress Dowager never bothered to kill either one of them.
She learned to regret it soon enough. The Archduke couple abruptly began getting along, at almost the exact same time that Archduke Qi suddenly wormed his way into Zhou Ying’s heart. With a new young Consort monopolizing the previous Emperor’s affections, the Empress Dowager was reluctant to damage her relationship with her only son, and was forced to watch on as Archduke Qi cemented his position in Zhou Ying’s inner circle. Backed by the Gong clan and his own maternal clan, Archduke Qi was amongst Zhou Ying’s most enthusiastic supporters after the palace coup during their father’s last moments, and successfully rose up in the world as the Emperor cemented his newly-won position.
That must be why the Empress Dowager killed Yunqi’s wife without hesitating, Kayla realized. She’d made that mistake once before, and she wasn’t about to make it again.
A sudden thought occurred to her. Archduke Qi’s health issues always resurfaced when he was within the Empress Dowager’s control. Was his current state also the Empress Dowager’s doing?
It’s not impossible. I might end up dusting off the skeletons in the Empress Dowager’s closet instead of making any progress with Lin Yaoguang’s contractor. But still, even if she’s behind this, it doesn’t remove the possibility of Archduke Qi being involved with Wu Zhihuan. He’s always had the resilience and grit to plot out a path for himself even under surveillance and sabotage, even at the height of the Empress Dowager’s power. His circumstances may be worse now, but he also isn’t considered a threat anymore.
Kayla considered it a moment longer before contacting Wei Guang. There was an easy way to get to the bottom of all this rather than agonizing over a decision.
“Godfather,” she greeted Wei Guang as the call connected. “I’d like to have Archduke Qi looked at by an Imperial Healer, and also to get a second opinion from a healer not affiliated with the palace. How do you think I should propose this to the Emperor?”
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Beneath Ju Shou’s blank expression, a million thoughts flickered through his mind as he evaluated every servant that he passed in the corridor. One of these innocuous faces had gotten into his room and placed the ransom demands right in the middle of his bed. The Third Prince’s household, as secure as a fortress, kept out outsiders who could wish the Prince harm, but the rats were eating at the insides. That very security kept the rat inside, right where it could gnaw at Ju Shou’s throat.
It could be anyone. That smiling little maidservant, the kindly old sweeper, the robust laundrywoman, maybe even the steward himself. But whoever it was, they held Linhua and Xuhuan’s lives in their hands.
Ju Shou had no guarantee that his mistress and child would be spared if he did as he was told. But he was certain of one thing. They would definitely die if he didn’t.
Someone in this household, or maybe more than one person, Ju Shou had no idea and wasn’t sure he had the guts to find out–someone was watching his every move. Someone knew when he left the household to visit home, where he went, when he returned, when he would and wouldn’t be in his room. He couldn’t take the risk of finding out just how far that reach went, not when the light of his life was in their hands.
That only left one option, and it was an option that required his death.
Ju Shou suddenly felt incredibly grateful to his horrid wife. Because of her, he had been forced to keep Linhua and Xuhuan in the shadows without registering them under his family tree. He’d even had to resettle them after the last time his wife went crying to the steward. Because of her, he had to plan his visits discreetly, to the point where his wife would never be able to figure out where they lived these days. He hadn’t trusted her not to break in with a machete while he was at work, and he certainly didn’t trust his coworkers not to leak information to her.
A strange sense of relief blossomed in his chest. Because of his tigress of a wife, no one knew what his mistress and child looked like, where they lived, or even knew their full names. When his sins came to fruition, his wife would die with him, but Linhua and Xuhuan would be safe.
Who would’ve thought she would help me this way?
His job was simple. When the Third Prince was served his tea that morning, Ju Shou was simply to ensure the prince drank it. Who poisoned it, when, and where, these things had nothing to do with him. All Ju Shou had to do was get Sima Qi out of the way and then drink the poison himself.
Drink the poison myself.
That bleak fate no longer stirred any emotion in him. Ju Shou was resigned to die. It was regrettable that the Third Prince would die with him, but what choice did he have? The arrow on the bow had no say in where it was shot.
Entering the small room where he did the poison testing, Ju Shou reached out and slapped the back of Sima Qi’s head.
“Hey, you little brat, what are you doing over there? Reading uncouth books?” Ju Shou snapped.
Sima Qi gave him an aggrieved look.
“No I’m not! It’s just a normal novel!”
At Ju Shou’s look of disdain, Sima Qi opened the book, holding it up to Ju Shou’s face.
“Really! I’m serious! Just take a look for yourself!”
Ju Shou waved the book aside with a scoff.
“Whatever,” he said. “If you’re bored enough to be reading a second-rate novel, then you have the time to run an errand for me, don’t you?”
Sima Qi hesitated. “But isn’t the Prince taking his tea soon?”
Ju Shou rolled his eyes. “Not when he’s calling his father-in-law. Don’t you even know that much? Those two will forget sleep and food when they’re conversing with each other, it’ll be ages before the prince asks for his tea. Stop lazing around and go fetch the bamboo cushion from the storehouse. No thanks to you, this room’s gotten even stuffier than before–you heat the entire room up.”
“What? I do?”
Ju Shou snorted. “Small room, no window, and a youngster who radiates body heat. I’m sweating my ass off just sitting in here! Go grab that damn cooling cushion already, won’t you? Aren’t you Bureau kids supposed to be fast anyways? Just ask the staff there and they’ll tell you where it is.”
“But–”
“How do they train kids in the Bureau? You can’t even run an errand for your seniors properly?” Ju Shou said in disbelief. “Do you think you can just ignore seniority like this? Gosh, youngsters these days!”
Sweat beaded under his collar as Sima Qi hesitated.
Do it, just do it already!
“Well, alright then,” Sima Qi said reluctantly. “I’ll be right back. But if the prince finishes his meeting before then, I’m blaming you if we get scolded!”
“That’s more like it,” Ju Shou replied, clapping him on the back. Sima Qi gave a pained smile and hurried off.
Ju Shou watched the young man rush off until he’d disappeared. Carefully keeping his expression natural, he went back to the waiting-room.
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Cultural Notes
终日以泪洗面/Washing one's face with tears [all day]: An Ancient Chinese phrase used to describe someone in a difficult position, usually one where they often weep in sorrow.
箭在弦上不得不发/An arrow on the bow cannot stop itself from being fired: An Ancient Chinese phrase meaning that those in a subordinate or beholden position has no choice but to do as they are told.
污秽之书/Books of filth/uncouth material: An Ancient Chinese term that can be used to describe books with erotic content or with ideas/stories that are considered scandalous or uncouth.
竹席/Bamboo mats: Often used on beds or on seats during summer or warm weather since it's good for dissipating body heat, and has a cooling effect.