Character Index

  Hua Ying: Luo Qichen's friend, a guard in Lord He's household.

  Lord He: Lord of the He clan. Leader of the Traditionalists.

  Luo Qichen: A young guard in Lord He's household. Tried to defect to Kayla to save his friend from a forced marriage.

  Chen Caichun: Chamberlain in the Court of Judicial Review.

  Yu Ruirong: A serving girl in Lord He's household, was forcibly engaged to an older merchant against her will. Her older sister was also forced to marry one of Lord He's allies.

  Tao Qian: Kayla's chief retainer.

  Hu Qing/Liang Hongfei: Lord of the Liang clan. Formerly Kayla's retainer.

  Xiang Daozong/Qu Boyong: Lord of the Xiang clan. Previously went undercover as Kayla's retainer when seeking revenge against the Grand Duke.

  Lord Cui: Co-leader of the Traditionalists.

  Grand Duke: (Adopted) grandfather of Zhao Wenyuan.

  He Zhengda: Lord He's wanton son.

  Han Daizhi: A Director in the Ministry of Rites, strategist of the Shandong faction.

  Zhou Yunqi: The Emperor.

  Zhou Xianchun: The only Archduke of this generation, Yunqi's younger brother.

  Zhu Simo: Right Secretariat of Revenue. Face of the Shandong faction.

  Ashina: Personal name Ibilga, Princess of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate.

  Zhang Dingyong: Minister of Justice.

  Qiu Jinwei: The Emperor's right-hand man and strategist.

  Hua Ying knelt before Zhao Wenyuan, tense within an inch of his life. If he didn’t keep every muscle taut, he would start shaking again, and would be left with nothing but the shame and guilt that gnawed on him ravenously.

  Wenyuan regarded the man before him with curiosity.

  “How did you get past security?” Wenyuan asked.

  “It wasn’t difficult,” Hua Ying replied.

  In truth, he didn’t remember. He barely remembered anything after Lord He had given the order–didn’t want to remember anything that had happened, not the feeling of flesh colliding into flesh, not the pleading sobs, not Lord He’s malicious smile, not the flecks of drying blood on his face.

  “Are you injured?” Wenyuan asked.

  Hua Ying grit his teeth. “No, but my friend is. His name is Luo Qichen.”

  He felt Zhao Wenyuan’s eyes on the drying bloodstains, and once again felt that engulfing shame that threatened to crush him in its maws.

  “I know him. What do you need?”

  “We want to leave the He household,” Hua Ying said.

  “I can do that,” Wenyuan said, crisp and confident. And of course he meant it. Hua Ying felt heat radiating from deep inside, rage flickering across his vision in little white dots. This was what had swayed Luo Qichen. This was the reason for what Hua Ying had to do, what Luo Qichen had to undergo, and yet now Hua Ying needed to go to the very source of it and beg.

  Then his anger subsided a little, enough to be reasonable, and he remembered again that all this was really Lord He’s fault in the first place.

  Hua Ying lowered his eyes. “You misunderstand, my lord. I don’t mean that we wish to flee…we wish to openly walk away from the He household.”

  “I thought you were under contract?”

  “We are,” Hua Ying said, his voice steely. “I want to contest the contract in a court of law.”

  “In a court of law? On what grounds?”

  “The debt laws forbid forcing civilians into indentured servitude,” Hua Ying said. “I want to contest my contract on the basis of violating the Wu Legal Code!”

  Slowly, Wenyuan’s smile turned into something a bit more horrifying but a great deal more sincere.

  “Please rise,” Wenyuan said.

  Uncertain of where he stood with Wenyuan, Hua Ying warily got to his feet. He stiffened as Wenyuan clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  “You’ve been through a lot,” Wenyuan said, in a way that suggested he understood. Of course he did. At the end of the day, power understood power, running the same course like the Yellow River ran East into the sea. At the very core, the only difference between Zhao Wenyuan and Lord He was that Hua Ying held more value to the former, a value that could diminish at any time.

  “My friend–” Hua Ying’s voice caught in his throat. How much more shameless could he get? Calling Luo Qichen his friend after everything that had happened–

  “Bring your friend from Lord He’s household. I’ll send a carriage with a healer,” Wenyuan said. He gently squeezed Hua Ying’s shoulder. “I’m not sure what happened, but it wasn’t your fault. An arrow on the bow has no choice but to fly towards where it was shot.”

  Mortified and relieved beyond speech, Hua Ying felt his vision blur again and blinked hard until it cleared.

  “Neither of us want to have to log your visit, so please be careful on your way out,” Zhao Wenyuan said.

  Hua Ying bowed and turned to leave, only realizing belatedly that there was a woman deeper inside the shadowed archive room. It spoke to how out of it he was that he hadn’t even noticed her till now.

  Ducking his head, he carefully picked his way back past security.

  Wenyuan turned to Chen Caichun with a rueful look.

  “We really need to strengthen security,” he said, sounding a little mournful.

  Chen Caichun winced sympathetically. Unlike the Duke’s other workplace, the Court of Judicial Review was a civil institution, without quite as many highly-skilled martial artists walking around as a natural deterrent. It was more strain on a stressed budget, but secretly she was relieved. Better to pay guards than bereavement settlements.

  Luo Qichen woke first to pain, a stint of consciousness that didn’t last very long. The second time he woke up, he realized that this was not his room.

  Which made sense, because he’d left Lord He’s household.

  No, he hadn’t. Lord He had kicked up a fuss over Yu Ruirong’s disappearance and ordered a search that found nothing, and then–what had happened then?

  A healer popped up out of nowhere and started poking and prodding at Luo Qichen, amiably but doggedly avoiding the young man’s questions.

  “How long have I been here?”

  Finally, a question the healer answered. “Half a day and a night. How is your neck feeling?”

  “It’s fine,” Luo Qichen said. Why would his neck feel anything but fine?

  Something clicked back into place in his memory.

  “Try turning your head this way,” the healer pointed.

  Luo Qichen did so obediently.

  “Now this way.”

  He turned his head.

  “Good, now look up. Up up up, eyes on the ceiling. That’s right. Does it hurt?”

  “No,” Luo Qichen said.

  “Great, now try tucking your chin in. All the way in.”

  Luo Qichen scrunched his chin into his neck until he’d forced out a double chin.

  “Good,” the healer said cheerfully. “Now, look at my finger.”

  “Can I stop tucking my chin in?”

  “Yes, go on. Look at my finger and follow it around.”

  “It’s hard to keep my eyes open if you’re shining a light into it,” Luo Qichen grumbled, following the healer’s movements.

  “Bear with it a bit more,” the healer said. She finally finished, patted Luo Qichen on the shoulder, and left.

  Luo Qichen lay down again. This was definitely the Zhao household, he was certain of it. So had Zhao Wenyuan saved him? But how?

  Luo Qichen strained, trying to piece together the mess of the previous day. He had gone back after dropping off Yu Ruirong, Hua Ying had been furious and tried to make Luo Qichen leave, Lord He had called a meeting before Hua Ying could succeed. Then, of course, the furious announcement of Yu Ruirong’s disappearance, orders for a house-wide search, and then Lord He’s glare had landed on him.

  He’d made a valiant attempt to defend himself. Hua Ying had backed up his lie much more convincingly. Lord He believed none of it.

  He deliberately stopped thinking about the rest.

  He shot up as the door opened again and the healer came back in to do more tests, feed him a bitter concoction, and then leave again.

  Luo Qichen relaxed back against the bed, his mind beginning to wander back, and the door opened again. He sat up straight.

  Two serving girls came in with a fresh jug of water and an extra blanket, accepted his awkward thanks, and then left just as the healer came back a third time to give Luo Qichen a vision test.

  Exhausted after only having woken up for two hours, Luo Qichen sighed with great relief when she left. He lay down for the third time, closing his eyes as he turned towards the wall.

  And now the door was opening again.

  “Good gods, just let me sleep,” Luo Qichen groaned.

  “I’m sorry to disturb your rest.”

  Luo Qichen sat up bolt straight, eyes comically wide.

  “My lord!”

  Zhao Wenyuan raised a hand in a friendly manner as he stepped into the room, flanked by Tao Qian.

  “Please be at ease. How are your wounds?”

  “They’re fine,” Luo Qichen said in a small voice, shocked that the Duke had come himself. Just for an informant? How much did the man need dirt on Lord He? Or was the Duke always like this? He’d heard rumors, of course, that the Duke was eccentric, and that the new Lord Liang and Lord Xiang both used to be the Duke’s retainers. But hearing it a hundred times was not equal to seeing it once.

  Zhao Wenyuan sat down on the edge of the bed. Luo Qichen was practically hyperventilating, suddenly unsure of where to put his hands or the parts of his face.

  “Miss Yu was very worried for you,” Zhao Wenyuan said.

  “Oh, um, am I allowed to see her?”

  “Of course, but not now. She was at your bedside all night and has only just gone to sleep three hours ago,” Zhao Wenyuan said.

  Luo Qichen’s face went hot. “Oh.”

  His mind flickered, churned, and then stuttered to a stop.

  “What about Hua Ying?”

  “Ah, the other guard,” Zhao Wenyuan said, a deliberate caution in his voice. “He’s fine.”

  “I want to speak with him,” Luo Qichen said.

  “He’s otherwise occupied right now.”

  “You mean he’s avoiding me,” Luo Qichen said, the words coming out more sulkily than he’d intended.

  “He feels very terribly for what he’s done,” Zhao Wenyuan said gently. “He doesn’t know how to face you.”

  “But it wasn’t his fault!” Luo Qichen protested. “Lord He ordered him to interrogate me, how was he supposed to go against orders?”

  “The way you did?”

  “That’s not fair,” Luo Qichen said. “He’s loyal, unlike me. It’s different for him.”

  Still, Luo Qichen shuddered a bit despite himself. He’d only ever seen that side of Hua Ying turned towards others, never towards himself. And Hua Ying’s eyes had been as terrified as his own–that made it all the worse.

  “You nearly lost an eye,” Zhao Wenyuan said.

  Luo Qichen avoided the Duke’s gaze. A deep set panic was rising inside him. How did he explain that this wasn’t Hua Ying's fault? Hua Ying wasn’t a bad person, he hadn’t wanted to do it, and really, this was Luo Qichen’s fault in the first place.

  “Well, in any case, I’m more than happy to mediate if you wish for it,” Zhao Wenyuan said. “For now, I’ll ask him to talk with you.”

  Luo Qichen ducked his head to hide his relief.

  The Duke left soon after, but it was a long time before Hua Ying stepped into Luo Qichen’s room, his entire being radiating reluctance.

  Luo Qichen’s heart fell. Of course Hua Ying was upset. He’d been forced into all this because of Luo Qichen’s selfishness in the first place.

  “How are you feeling?” Hua Ying asked quietly.

  “I’m fine,” Luo Qichen said, mustering as much energy as he could. “In perfect health!”

  “Good.”

  Hua Ying shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. He was practically right at the door, positioned as far away from the bed as he could manage.

  “I’m sorry, Qichen.”

  Luo Qichen blinked in confusion. “What for? You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the one who brought me here, aren’t you?”

  Hua Ying shook his head, a look of despair on his face.

  “How can you stand to be in the same room as me?”

  “It’s not like that,” Luo Qichen said helplessly. “It’s my own fault.”

  That only seemed to make Hua Ying feel worse. On the verge of panicking, Luo Qichen realized with horror that the ever-stoic Hua Ying was close to crying.

  “The-the-the-the-uh, um, the healer w-who came in earlier was really thorough, huh?” Luo Qichen desperately tried to change the topic. “You wouldn’t believe how many tests she had me do, it was like one of those things you hear about in stories or something.”

  Having never gone to a proper healer before, Luo Qichen was unaware that this was simply protocol.

  Faced with an unresponsive Hua Ying, Luo Qichen proceeded to ramble nonsense for half an hour, feeling more like an idiot with each passing minute while Hua Ying only seemed to grow more and more dejected. Luo Qichen, running out of ideas, started circling closer and closer to the crux of the matter.

  “But your job–I mean, um, sorry about that, I don’t suppose you’ll be able to go back,” Luo Qichen apologized. “And just when you got promoted.”

  “I don’t care about that,” Hua Ying cut in.

  “Okay, um, I know that you probably don’t like the idea of it, but you don’t really have to do anything. I’ll make a deal with Duke Zhao and see if we can work something out. He doesn't seem the stingy type, so hopefully we'll get a decent sum,” Luo Qichen said. “I know you’ve been through a lot to cover for my fuck ups already, but please, just bear with me a little longer.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Hua Ying wiped a hand down his face, looking far older than his age.

  “That’s not–” Hua Ying sighed. “It’s the other way around, Qichen.”

  The force field taut between them seemed to melt away, and Hua Ying finally came within five steps of the bed.

  “I want you to have a future,” Hua Ying said, his voice heavy. “That’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  “I know,” Luo Qichen replied.

  Hua Ying drew a deep breath, letting out a shuddering sigh.

  “I’m suing Lord He,” Hua Ying said.

  Luo Qichen’s eyes nearly popped out of his sockets.

  “You what?!”

  Hua Ying was a model employee. Loyal, diligent, skilled, loyal, competent, and loyal–and-and–

  “I’m suing the old bastard,” Hua Ying said through gritted teeth.

  Luo Qichen stared wide-eyed at Hua Ying in utter disbelief for a long moment before bursting into gleeful laughter.

  Kayla went to the Secretariat Department late in the afternoon when officials were beginning to take off from work, on a work matter plausible enough to justify her presence but insignificant enough that people wondered why she’d come in person. Once done, Kayla lingered in the emptying hallways, nodding and smiling at officials when she passed them while ignoring their curious glimpses after her.

  She wasn’t really trying to be discreet, nor was she trying to be particularly obvious. It was a bit of a liminal thing, a confrontation staged to be halfway between private and public, leaving room for speculation.

  She didn’t have to wait particularly long. Once Kayla stepped past the open door of Lord He’s office and turned the corner to an empty hallway, it was merely moments before the sound of Lord He’s angry footsteps rapidly grew louder.

  “You–”

  Kayla turned around with a deliberately placed look of befuddlement.

  “Why, Lord He, to what do I owe–”

  Lord He marched right up to her, jabbing a finger in her face.

  “You scheming cretin, your ancestors would weep to see what you’ve become! You dare to openly poach my retainers?! What you’ve done is illegal and immoral, and I will see you punished for it by the full force of the law!” Lord He roared.

  Kayla glimpsed over the man’s head, for Lord He was significantly shorter, to see Lord Cui hastily dispersing any onlookers. She hadn’t known Lord Cui would also be here, but it wasn’t anything surprising. Lord He was probably in a panic after realizing three retainers with dirt on him and a great deal of grievances had disappeared at a very inopportune time.

  “Raising your voice won’t give you the right of way,” Kayla said mildly.

  “Never in my life have I seen a man whose virtue is so unmatched with his position!” Lord He snapped, even more enraged by her lack of reaction.

  “You mean you’ve never met my grandfather?” Kayla widened her eyes in feigned shock, Lord He’s face reddening to a startling hue.

  Alright, I’d best tone it down a bit before we need to call a healer.

  “I’ve had enough of your barking. You’re nothing more than an effeminate incompetent who’s gotten to your position by flattery and sophistry,” Lord He said, his voice suddenly very icy. “I could destroy you. In fact, I will destroy you. You’re done, Zhao Wenyuan.”

  Kayla wordlessly handed him a scroll.

  “What’s this?”

  “You should take a look,” Kayla said.

  He fought between his instincts to bat it aside or to check if it was dangerous to his reputation. He finally chose the latter.

  With an angry harrumph, Lord He opened it with false bravado.

  His face paled, then reddened.

  “They’re my retainers! By law, they can’t report their own master!” Lord He snapped.

  “Legally, they can’t,” Kayla agreed. “But under the Wu Code, forcing citizens into indentured servitude to repay a debt is illegal.”

  “What?!”

  “You didn’t know?” Kayla asked, pretending to misunderstand.

  “I’ve never done such a thing! How dare you accuse an official like this?! Where’s your evidence?!” Lord He demanded.

  “I’ve seen their contracts,” Kayla replied. “And I’m sure that if we really filed this inquiry, we’d find a lot more contracts.”

  “Those contracts are legitimate!”

  “They’re illegal,” Kayla corrected him gently. “You never offered an option for them to repay you with money, because you don’t even pay them.”

  “I do!”

  “Infrequent, irregular bonuses and commissions. You don’t pay wages.”

  “Pay is pay!”

  Kayla waved him off flippantly. “Oh please, that’s not the real issue here. I’ll say it again, and let’s see if you can catch the problem this time. Your contract doesn’t offer an option other than indentured servitude for the debt they incur through training and boarding! Even if they willingly incur the debt, it’s illegal to make a civilian an indentured servant over what they owe!”

  Lord He looked at her with genuine affront as if he had been deeply wronged. “The law says what it says, but it’s been hundreds of years since it was written! This is common practice, you’re deliberately targeting me for political reasons!”

  “It's common practice?”

  Lord He went abruptly silent, realizing he’d fallen into Kayla’s trap. He glared with setting hatred into her look of mock surprise.

  “Well, I mean, it is still illegal,” Kayla said, still feigning surprise. “If you want to change the law you should propose a new policy. So, tell me, do your associates also engage in this practice?”

  “You’re shameless!” Lord He roared.

  Kayla’s lips curved into a smile. “No more than you are.”

  “Mark my words, Zhao Wenyuan,” Lord He seethed. “Your dirty deeds won’t be forgotten–your reputation will bear your stench for tens of thousands of years!”

  “If my name is cursed for doing something useful for the country, then it’s worth whatever insults or slander they sling at me,” Kayla replied. “If I am to be praised for the opposite, then that praise is worth less than trash. I’m fine with this.”

  Lord He’s eyes bulged in anger, a vein twitching on his temple.

  “Think it over. If we take this to court, there’s no way your retainers will lose,” Kayla said. “Especially not in the current political climate, where so many egregious debt practices are coming into light through the communication network. The official punishment is being flogged publicly…at your age…I mean, I’m your junior by a good few decades so I won’t pretend that I’m suited for giving legal counsel, but I would advise against it.”

  “That’s enough, Duke Zhao,” Lord Cui cut in, his face pale and drawn. “You will hear from our representative.”

  “A settlement?” Kayla asked.

  “A settlement,” Lord Cui agreed through clenched teeth.

  “I’m not fucking settling! He poaches my servants right from under my roof and I have to pay him for it?!”

  “You’re not paying me, you’re paying your servants,” Kayla pointed out.

  “I’m not paying those traitorous scum a single coin!”

  “Stop it! Just stay quiet!” Lord Cui hissed at his in-law, a faint tremor in his voice. Glaring at Kayla, he nodded curtly. “We’ll settle.”

  He tugged on Lord He, who looked ready to sock Kayla in the face. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “You’ll regret this!” Lord He shouted.

  “Go get a drink, my lord,” Kayla said calmly. “You’ll get an aneurysm.”

  Lord Cui tugged on him again, more insistently this time. Lord He shook off his in-law’s grasp and stormed off.

  Lord Cui paused, giving Kayla a long and contemplative look before stalking off as well.

  From the thin line his lips were pressed into, he knew as well as Kayla did that Lord He had lost the fight before it even started.

  She watched with calculating eyes as Lord Cui walked away, bearing the blow with respectable dignity.

  If Lord He took the case to court, he would lose, and his retainers would publicly shake out all his dirty laundry. If he settled, then he was handing over key witnesses to Kayla who could use them against him at any time.

  Quite simply, Lord He was out of the game, at least for the time being. In time he would find a way to clean up his dirty deeds and hide his evidence well enough that Luo Qichen and Hua Ying’s testimony lost weight, and by then, Kayla would be ready with a noose for He Zhengda. Then it would be his choice. Get his son down safely, or kick out the chair from under him.

  For now, however, the capital aristocrats would suffer a crushing blow with Lord He abruptly ceasing his activity in the Traditionalists. Lord Cui would have his hands full fending off competitors–because if there was anything that old-time bluebloods were good at, it was in-fighting. A leadership of two of the oldest families, equal in dignity and good name, was difficult to contest. Just the Cui clan? Lord Cui’s hair would be significantly whiter by the end of it, no matter the outcome.

  With the capital aristocrats distracted, the Shandong faction alone wasn’t sufficient to pose a significant threat. Even if they threatened to resign en masse, the action wouldn’t bear enough weight. They had no one above fourth rank, and they were scattered across the ministries with no ability to cripple any one institution by leaving.

  No matter how impressive the coalition, if you can find the right piece to kick out from beneath their feet, the whole thing crumbles.

  Allowing herself to smile in satisfaction, Kayla felt some weight lift off her shoulders.

  The Emperor’s public appearance tomorrow cinches the deal when it comes to popular support. The reforms will pass.

  Round one went to the Reformists, but the hardest fight was only just beginning: Implementation. The grave of many a good piece of policy.

  Not mine, not if I can help it.

  With one last glance in the direction of her opponents, Kayla briskly walked away.

  Han Daizhi stood among the thickly clustered ranks of court officials in the Central Temple. They all managed to bow in unison when the Emperor arrived, more out of necessity due to limited space than some kind of deliberate harmony. Large as the hall was, only a small segment was reserved for officials on either side. Another section was reserved for diplomats, a bold move that Han Daizhi hadn’t expected.

  Another section was invite-only, reserved for all kinds of notables, merchants, and scholars from the region. A few faces had made hasty trips from nearby provinces for the occasion. The Emperor had really gone all out. The rest of the hall was more or less open to the public. Commoners crowded elbow to elbow, with far more craning their necks from the grounds outside the temple doors.

  Zhou Yunqi arrived from a side door that monks usually went through, having taken the long path around rather than forcibly clear a path through the excited crowds. He stepped into sight, welcomed with great fanfare and so much cheering that the horns announcing his arrival were practically inaudible. Commoners of another place may have fallen into awed silence, but this was Luoyang after all. Han Daizhi’s much-abused ears crackled from the sound, and he grimaced at the cacophony. Zhu Simo, grim-faced next to him, barely reacted. Han Daizhi sometimes suspected that Zhu Simo’s own loud voice may have made the man a little hard of hearing.

  Zhou Yunqi raised his hands, palms outspread, and the stately gesture was greeted with suitable awe as people quieted down. The Emperor was not in his robes of state, but wore robes of sufficient ceremonial weight–it made an impressive sight, the handsome young Emperor with his tall and well-proportioned form, framed by the ethereal glow of the candlelight behind him and the sunlight streaming in from above.

  Yunqi gave a short speech of thanks and welcome, Han Daizhi missing most of it on account of his crackling ears, which he suspected was the case for many of the commoners who were amidst all that racket. It didn’t help that many older people were weeping, overcome with emotion at seeing someone who looked so much like Emperor Xuanzong appear before the crowd.

  Still, the Emperor’s presence reached its intended effect. Even if people couldn’t make out what he was saying, no one could deny the strength of his voice or the dignity of his bearing.

  The Emperor smiled broadly as Zhao Wenyuan approached, Princess Ashina at his side.

  Zhao Wenyuan wore his official purple, solemnly bearing the mismatch between age and rank before the scrutiny of skeptics and admirers alike.

  His beautiful royal wife was decked out in traditional Turkish clothing to emphasize that their union was one of two countries, her swelling baby bump the object of much speculative whispering about the child’s gender.

  The couple knelt and bowed before the Emperor.

  “Please rise, my dear cousins,” the Emperor said warmly. Wenyuan reached out to help up Princess Ashina, earning himself a winsome smile from the princess rate and inching up his approval rate.

  “What a farce,” Han Daizhi mumbled under his breath. He glanced across the hall to the other section reserved for officials and started as he met Zhang Dingyong’s catlike smile.

  Yes, it is a farce. What are you going to do about it? The smile said.

  Han Diazhi narrowed his eyes. Wouldn’t you like to know.

  Zhang Dingyong subtly raised his eyebrows. Oh, I’ll figure it out, don’t you worry about it.

  Even more annoyed than before, Han Daizhi broke eye contact and stubbornly avoided it for the rest of the ceremony.

  The horns sounded, and both the Emperor and the Princess moved to their seats of honor.

  Zhao Wenyuan stood before the towering Buddha statue, the Duke made minuscule by its scale. His body only came up to the folds of the Buddha’s robes above the lotus base. The sheer juxtaposition of size only served to highlight the Duke’s commanding presence.

  It had nothing really to do with the Duke, Han Daizhi noted to himself, ever a curious student of power’s workings. It had to do with the fact that the juxtaposition was so clearly visible.

  The temple was always crowded. How many people had seen the Buddha statue in its entirety before without the claustrophobia of so many heads and bodies in their way? It almost made one feel like one of the unfortunate masses in the ocean of suffering, looking with desperate eyes towards the Buddha above. Han Daizhi would know, having been in here multiple times himself.

  But to see the hall before the Buddha cleared out, with only neat rows of onlookers on either side and one man standing before the statue as if communicating directly with the heavens, that did the trick. It was about showcasing the exclusivity–of being able to have a one-on-one with the gods when the temple was close to bursting with onlookers.

  Anyone else standing in that position would look just as striking. Anyone else would fill people with just as much awe.

  But not everyone could be born a Duke. Even if Han Daizhi worked to the bone his entire life, he had little chance as a civil official to even become a Marquis. And yet–

  I want what he has.

  He was unashamed about his desire. What did it matter that it was unfeasible? That he didn’t know his place? Just being able to have that desire put him ahead of the countless people who took the hierarchy for granted, lying to themselves that they knew their place in life even as their circumstances got worse each year.

  Distantly, he watched as the incense was lit, the Duke reverently held it up before the Buddha statue, and everything went exactly according to the rites–the Duke was using the ritual as some kind of stage play, and Han Daizhi wasn’t sure if he was outraged at the blasphemy or impressed at the sheer drama.

  The drums, a deep bow, some monks chanted Buddhist scripture, another deep bow, more drums and Buddhist scripture, a third deep bow. Was Han Daizhi being irreverent? The Duke certainly wasn’t, by the look of deep concentration on his features.

  The master of ceremony began reading out his script, and Han Daizhi watched detachedly as the Duke knelt and bowed his head three times, remained kneeling until the script was finished, and then rose to bow three times again.

  It was disappointingly normal, Han Daizhi realized. If you stripped away the impressive presence of an Emperor, a Turkish Princess, Archduke Xianchun, and every capital official above fifth rank, it was just a pretty normal ritual, not unlike those he saw now and then in Shandong. Yet the air of the temple was palpably heavy with the thick miasma of solemnity, its weight granted by the sheer combined prestige of its occupants.

  No wonder. Han Daizhi glanced around himself. Even his fellow officials in the Traditionalist faction had been taken in by the atmosphere, the only exceptions bearing through by the strength of their animosity.

  Then it was over, the Duke bowed to the Emperor who embraced him warmly, people cheered, Han Daizhi joined in half-heartedly, and everyone moved outside for the banquet. The streets outside the temple had been cleared for onlookers, and palace performers deigned to make a special appearance for the sake of unfortunates who hadn’t managed to queue into the temple.

  For his first time witnessing so much pomp and ceremony in the heart of the capital, the only things that really impressed Han Daizhi was that the Emperor had come, and that the stubborn Qiu Jinwei had not.

  His attention flicked back to quietly observing his peers and the commoners who had come out to watch. Already, people were praising the Duke.

  Damn it. A flicker of unease rose up in his stomach. Like most nobles, Zhao Wenyuan had little interaction with the common people save for in their gossip and in public ceremonies. And the latter had done him very well–he’d known exactly what he was doing by showing himself in such a capacity.

  Girls were gushing over his looks, young men were impressed by the force of his presence, everyone was impressed by his station and his oath. Once the solemnity of the ceremony had worn off, the belief of Zhao Wenyuan’s fellow officials also faded, but not enough to be useful. Some more gullible officials were convinced, while others were watching just like Han Daizhi and quickly finding it in their best interests not to go against what was sure to be a surge in popularity.

  Zhu Simo’s outmatched in this regard, Han Daizhi thought bitterly. He can get to the gentry, but not to the commoners–not that he would lower himself to do so anyways.

  This–Han Daizhi glanced sharply at Zhang Dingyong, taking in the man’s look of satisfaction, one not unlike a cat that had eaten its fill.

  Of course.

  They had lost this round, but it was far from over. Gritting his teeth, Han Daizhi followed the shuffling flow of officials out of the temple.

  Cultural Notes

  Tang Legal Code: The Wu Legal Codes is based directly off the Tang Legal code, which had strict debt laws. Shirking debt could result in a public flogging, but someone who forced a civilian into indentured servitude (basically a second-class citizen until they buy out their contracts or are given leave) would also be punished by flogging, if not exile. Since indentured servants were forbidden from directly accusing their masters in court by custom and sometimes by law, many cases may have gone unpunished. Hua Ying takes the legal angle that since they were illicitly forced into indentured servitude, they don't actually count as indentured servants.

  黄河东到海/Yellow River runs East to the sea: An Ancient Chinese saying referencing the Yellow River that has sustained but also dealt great damage to China as an agricultural civilizations. In many places it still floods every few years.

  箭在弦上不得不发/An arrow on the bow has no choice but to fly towards where it was shot: An Ancient Chinese proverb. One of its famous uses is in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms where someone who wrote a public denunciation of Cao Cao uses this to explain his actions when faced with an angry Cao Cao. Pleased with this explanation, the warlord spared his life.

  Chinese herbal medicine: The bitter concoction that Luo Qichen drinks counts in this category. From personal experience, Chinese herbal medicine really does work for many chronic illnesses, especially ones that Western doctors dismiss or fail to do much for, but it's not a cure-all, and its effects depends on how good your doctor is. Rather than unified effects like we see in pharmaceutical medicine, herbal medicine is supposed to be tailored to the individual needs of each person's body. Hence why the skill level of the doctor can matter a lot.

  百闻不如一见/Hearing it a hundred times was not equal to seeing it once: An Ancient Chinese proverb.

  德不配位/Virtue unmatched with one's position: An Ancient Chinese proverb, used in the context that one whose virtue is insufficient for their position will suffer disaster for it.

  遗臭万年/Your reputation will bear your stench for tens of thousands of years: An Ancient Chinese insult.

  Ashina wearing Turkish clothing: Would it have been historically accurate for a princess to wear her traditional clothing rather than formal Han-style clothing in important ceremonies? Probably not in most dynasties, but in the Tang dynasty, it would have been plausible. The Tang dynasty was highly cosmopolitan, and the ruling family was part-Xianbei (a multi-ethnic coalition that scholars think are a mix of Proto-Mongolian, Turkic, and Tungic peoples).

  Buddha statues: Monumental statues of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas have long been an important part of Buddhist culture in East Asia. Since the spread of Buddhism in China during the Han Dynasty, Chinese religious and folk beliefs have centered around a mix of what we now call 儒释道/Confucianism-Buddhism-Daoism. However, in terms of statues and temples, Buddhism is far more prevalent than the other two, which often serve more as guides for morality and self-cultivation (of the self, not spiritual cultivation). Statues often bear a serene expression, and the common poses are standing, sitting on a lotus blossom, or lying on one side. The Buddhist statue culture in East Asia bears similarities with Southeast Asia, but there are marked differences due to the popularity of different branches of Buddhism. Large statues are meant to strike reverence and awe into the hearts of viewers. Since the statue in-story is indoors, it would be smaller than one placed outdoors. Below are a few examples of Buddhist statues:

  苦海众生/Unfortunate masses in the ocean of suffering: An Ancient Chinese term that is derived from Buddhist culture, referring to the sufferings that mortals undergo repeatedly through the cycle of reincarnation, which they can only escape from through good deeds and prayer, and eventually reaching enlightenment.