Character Index

  Zhang Dingyong: Minister of Justice. Kayla's ally.

  Yao Gongzhuo: Minister of War. Kayla's ally.

  Lord He: Leader of the capital aristocrats.

  Zhou Ying: The former Emperor. Posthumously titled Emperor Xuanzong. Was nearly deposed as Crown Prince and faced with various palace intrigues as a newly minted Emperor, resulting in a suspicious and paranoid nature that eventually led to his own demise.

  Empress Gongsun: Emperor Xuanzong's former Empress. She was deposed after her clan grew too powerful and threatened Emperor Xuanzong's position. The exile of her two sons soon after kickstarted the subsequent succession crisis.

  Zhou Xianchun: The Seventh Prince of Emperor Xuanzong, now titled an Archduke.

  Zhou Yunqi: The current Emperor.

  Qiu Jinwei: The Emperor's favorite advisor from his days as an overlooked Prince.

  Han Daizhi: Strategist of the Shandong clique.

  Lord Cui: Co-leader of the capital aristocrats.

  Yu Bianfu: Former military officer. Married to Zhou Xianchun as a way for Yunqi to strip her clan of military influence.

  Liu Boyue: Xianchun's advisor.

  Zhou Kuang: Deceased third prince of Emperor Xuanzong.

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

  “Cheers, my friends,” Kayla said warmly, raising her cup to Zhang Dingyong and Yao Gongzhuo inside her sitting room. The two followed suit, the former suitably smug, the latter suitably pleased.

  “Celebrations aside, we need to think through our next steps,” Zhang Dingyong said. “You’ve captured Lord He’s weakness and we’ve pushed through with the ceremony, but how long can we ride that momentum?”

  “Stop for a bit, before we rush on to the next thing, I have a thing or two to say about the ceremony itself,” Yao Gongzhuo cut in.

  Kayla nodded encouragingly.

  “So, since the ceremony was met with so much excitement, it seems that there was an unintentional consequence,” Yao Guangzhou said drily. “Most of the participants have no idea what the ceremony was for. They got the gist that it had to do with dedicating your life to serving the country, but a lot of people couldn’t understand the master of ceremony’s formal speech, and they also couldn’t hear the Emperor’s speech before the ceremony.”

  “What?” Zhang Dingyong looked genuinely upset by this. “After everything I set up?!”

  “But the rumors about the Duke’s debts have died down,” Yao Gongzhuo said, grudgingly comforting his colleague. “People take it as a sign that someone who would publicly make an oath before the gods would not do something that offends the heavens and harms the principles of man.”

  “But the ceremony was for the debts! Why else did I stir up so many rumors about the ceremony?” Zhang Dingyong cried.

  “You what?”

  Zhang Dingyong ignored Kayla’s look of outrage. “It was almost perfect too! I mean, I heard everything perfectly. Are we sure that there wasn’t just a bunch of people with hearing disabilities?”

  “It’s an acoustics issue with the venue, it happens,” Kayla soothed. “And what was that about stirring up the rumors again?”

  “It’s not an acoustics issue, it’s an attitude issue,” Yao Gongzhuo said. “The commoners got way too worked up because of all the excitement around the Emperor’s first public appearance in a while. Poor Emperor Xuanzong, may he rest in peace…he rarely ever left the Imperial Palace. It’s no wonder! After everything that happened throughout his time as Crown Prince, and all that mess with the deposed Empress Gongsun, how could he ever feel comfortable abandoning the palace for more than an interval at a time?”

  Kayla bit the inside of her cheek, guilt gnawing at her insides. Staying in the safety of the palace hadn’t saved Emperor Xuanzong in the end. The palace ate its occupants. That was simply the only way to put it.

  Yao Gongzhuo continued on, unaware of her unease. “But of course, our new Emperor is young and handsome, and a symbol of hope and of the future. People got carried away. I make these excuses for the commoners, but really, I’m quite appalled. Such uncouth behavior within the confines of a temple! The commoners would have heard just fine if they’d stayed quiet, the way they would have the common sense to do for a ceremony of their own clan!”

  “Then you’ll have to release the content of your oaths,” Zhang Dingyong said firmly to Kayla. “Release the full script, and also hire a few people to go around providing an interpretation in simple words. And I mean simple. Something along the lines that though it is true you swore to dedicate your life to the country, but more importantly, you swore to dedicate the Zhao household to repaying your grandfather’s debts and to never making a cent in your life outside of your salary as a public official. It’s compelling. It’s poetic. It forms an excellent contrast with your horrible no-good grandfather, no offense Your Excellency, and people love that!”

  Kayla stared at him flatly. “Do you think this is a drama or something?”

  “A what?”

  “A play,” Kayla corrected herself.

  Zhang Dingyong shrugged. “To most people who aren’t directly involved, they’re only interested in eating melons in their seats rather than the complicated political motives behind every little action. What they want is a series of dramatic twists, presented in broad strokes, just like the plot of a play. And why should we not entertain them? It benefits us very well to be the ones shaping the narrative. Everyone has fun.”

  “Not me,” Yao Gongzhuo grumbled. “This whole thing is ridiculous. Not the ceremony itself, Duke Zhao, that was very nice. Very stately. But Minister Zhang is right, you need to hurry up and circulate the contents of the oath as soon as possible before the rumors get out of hand. Especially with the diplomats. Even the priest of the-the-what was that Syrian temple called again?”

  “The Nestorians?” Kayla supplied.

  “Yes, the ones who wear the symbol that looks like a ten,” Yao Gongzhuo said. “Even fringe sects like that made an appearance, which means that misinformation can travel all the further. Still, that aside, I was very impressed.”

  “Thank you,” Kayla said. “I will be sure to follow your advice.”

  “I was expecting the Imam of the Arabs to come, and the Zoroastrian Mobad. But the turnout was even better than I hoped for,” Zhang Dingyong said, suddenly serious again. “Who cares whether the commoners behave or not? Or even if the acoustics were bad? If it works then it works. We’ve given them a spectacle.”

  Kayla eyed him with scrutiny. He would’ve made a good campaign manager in the modern day, she supposed, or perhaps a really terrible one.

  Yao Gongzhuo shook his head slightly in distaste, with no real vitriol.

  Somehow, with a combination that Kayla had never imagined, they were heading down a path with outcomes that were entirely uncertain.

  “The reforms will pass,” Kayla said with finality. “Both of your contributions in this regard cannot be overlooked. I propose another toast.”

  The other two obligingly raised their cups.

  “To the nation’s prosperity,” Kayla said.

  They clinked cups and downed their wine.

  “Now, trifling matters aside,” Zhang Dingyong said grandly. “Did you notice the Archduke at the ceremony?”

  “Archduke Xianchun?” Kayla asked. “Yes, I did.”

  She had caught sight of him, looking a shadow of his old self. Xianchun was not doing well, and it showed. He was a talented man, made sullen by thwarted ambitions, and would have written poetry worthy of immortalization had he been a poet.

  He was not a poet.

  Kayla found herself strangely sympathetic to her old ally and enemy.

  She had almost wanted to give him some kind of assurance. Of what? That she would personally realize the tiger back into the mountain by helping him re-enter politics? She couldn’t do that. If he suffered then he suffered. Her sympathy had its limits, and Xianchun was too volatile a force to constantly wrangle with.

  “What about him?” Yao Gongzhuo asked suspiciously.

  “It’s not time yet, but he will re-enter politics soon,” Zhang Dingyong predicted.

  “Him? He opposed the Emperor. He’s lucky he wasn’t sent packing to some remote fief,” Yao Gongzhuo said in surprise.

  “Who would have the guts to let him out of the capital? His type of personality is oddly well-received amongst the military and regional discontents,” Zhang Dingyong said. “No no, the Emperor intends to keep him here in the capital right under our eyelids until he fades into obscurity–or at least that’s what I would’ve assumed. But then, why make him come to the ceremony? Just to flaunt how well-loved the Emperor is by the people?”

  “Surely not,” Kayla immediately protested. Yunqi could be as vengeful as the next person, but he wasn’t willfully cruel.

  “Exactly. It can’t just be that. It’s because the Emperor’s considering the Archduke’s re-entry into the public sphere.“

  “It's barely been two months since the Emperor’s coronation, wouldn’t he wait until things are more stable?” Kayla asked.

  “At least a few years?” She added with a desperate note. Kayla had managed to get this much done because she hadn’t had to deal with Xianchun. She couldn’t imagine how much worse things would get, for if the Archduke returned to politics, his only viable stance was not on her side. It was a pity. If only the circumstances were different.

  “Could the Emperor wait that long?” Zhang Dingyong prompted.

  Kayla frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “What’s more important than who was at the ceremony is who wasn’t at the ceremony,” Zhang Dingyong said.

  “Enough going in circles, out with it already!” Yao Gongzhuo cut in.

  “Qiu Jinwei,” Kayla said in realization. “Qiu Jinwei wasn’t there.”

  “He’s just a palace advisor,” Yao Gongzhuo said dismissively. “He’s barely made a public appearance at all. He’s worth little more than some old sentiment!”

  “Yes, and the Ten Constant Attendants were only eunuchs,” Zhang Dingyong pointed out. “More important than anyone who shows their face in public is who has access to the Emperor in private. You might be thinking that Qiu Jinwei is just a spoiled favorite who doesn’t pay attention to small matters of etiquette, but is he so completely unleashed that the Emperor couldn’t command him to show his face?”

  “Surely not,” Yao Gongzhuo muttered.

  “I’ve no quarrel with Advisor Qiu,” Kayla quickly said. The last thing she wanted was for Zhang Dingyong to start a new quarrel on her behalf.

  “This isn’t about you, it’s about the Emperor,” Zhang Dingyong said. “While we were busy, Qiu Jinwei has already formed a clique of old-fashioned scholarly officials that used to be at the core of the neutral faction. Rather than becoming sidelined and outpaced once our good Duke tossed them aside, they’ve now become a private group that has direct access to the Emperor. You do realize how dangerous such an entity can be?”

  Yao Gongzhuo and Kayla exchanged a grim look.

  “This can’t have happened by accident,” Zhang Dingyong said. “The Emperor told you to leave those old men to Qiu Jinwei, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Kayla admitted.

  “It’s obvious what he wants,” Zhang Dingyong said. “He doesn’t want one family to gain hegemony alone, so he’s condoning Qiu Jinwei’s behavior.”

  He peered at Kayla’s face. “You don’t seem surprised, Your Excellency.”

  “I suspected this would be the case,” Kayla said uneasily. “But I don’t see what this has to do with the Archduke. Do you really think the Emperor would let him back into politics just to give Qiu Jinwei an advantage?”

  “It might not be that fast. But it will happen. Do you know why I stirred up such a fuss about your debts and put you in a position where you needed the Emperor present for your ceremony?” Zhang Dingyong asked.

  “I thought I did, but if you say it like that, then no,” Kayla admitted.

  “Wasn’t it to increase popular support?” Yao Gongzhuo asked.

  “That too, but mainly so that the crucial factor for our victory lies with the Emperor,” Zhang Dingyong said. “Think about it. Your Excellency, you proposed the reforms. You drafted them, petitioned them in court, you went about recruiting allies for the cause, you wrangled down Lord He, and now it’s your face that’s at the forefront of all this. Where does that leave the Emperor? All the merit and influence goes to you, in only two months since the Emperor’s coronation. Which ruler would be fine with this?”

  “So you wanted to highlight the Emperor’s role instead?” Yao Gongzhuo mulled it over. “It’s a wise move.”

  “You’re still a long way off from it, but going forward, there’s going to be a significant chance that you’ll end up with achievements that tower over your master,” Zhang Dingyong said to Kayla. “It’s because you have the capacity to get there that I joined you in the first place, but now that you know you can, you need to do everything in your power not to. The thin stream trickles on longer–once you’ve gotten to the point where there’s nothing more the Emperor can reward you with, you’re done for.”

  Kayla nodded.

  “That being said, we can’t let the Archduke reap the fisherman’s benefit from our hard work,” Zhang Dingyong said. “Remember what you said about negotiating with the Traditionalists?”

  “You said it was impossible,” Kayla said.

  “I certainly thought so,” Zhang Dingyong admitted.

  “What are you two talking about?” Yao Gongzhuo asked.

  “The good Duke wishes to form a…cooperation of sorts with the opposition,” Zhang Dingyong said. “To have a sort of informal agreement on what to argue over and what to live and let live.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Kayla protested.

  “Close enough, that’s what you actually want, isn’t it?” Zhang Dingyong said.

  Yao Gongzhuo frowned. “I don’t understand. We’ve gotten to the point where two factions dominate the court–it’s only the natural outcome that the enemy must die for us to live. Agreeing on what to fight over? What on earth would be the point of that? Is politics just for show now?”

  “Frankly, it’s just self-deluding nonsense so that everyone can get their piece of meat,” Kayla admitted. “But crippling the government does nothing for either faction. Harmony fosters prosperity, but we’ve reached the point where that’s impossible. The next best thing is to find a way for people to advance their careers and reputations on either side without actually damaging the interests of the country or the court. Find some controversial matters of little consequence to argue over and negotiate a way to make the important policies pass. It’ll save us all a great deal of time, effort, and money.”

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  She thought it over. “But with the presence of Qiu Jinwei and Archduke Xianchun, the necessary balance can’t be achieved in the first place.”

  “No, it’s precisely because of them that we need this,” Zhang Dingyong insisted. “Han Daizhi also understands that the Shandong clique’s chances are fading with the arrival of a new faction on the scene–Lord Cui will come to that realization as well once he’s recouped from losing his co-leader. They’ll be willing to negotiate. No one wants to play at fawning over a neutral faction that won’t bend in any direction. Give it long enough…”

  He gave a ferocious scowl. “Give it long enough, and once the two opposing factions have reached a gridlock, the neutral faction can emerge as a point of compromise. Everyone jumps ship and agree upon the third party for lack of any other alternative, leaving only the core members of the opposing factions stranded on each side. That’s the situation I’d like to avoid at any cost, but if we really can’t avoid it, I will be jumping ship right along with the rest of them.”

  “You conniving little–” Yao Gongzhuo began to launch into a tirade, cut off by the incessant flapping of Zhang Dingyong’s hands.

  “I can’t help it. Neutral factions are viable. They’ve been proven viable, and they’re not so easy to dismiss and shoo off the table,” Zhang Dingyong said. “Especially not with the example you’ve given.” He gave Kayla a pointed look.

  “Stop, stop–just hold on and stop for a minute!” Yao Gongzhuo cried in frustration. “So in order not to get displaced by a neutral faction, you’re willing to reduce politics to a complete farce? This is a mockery of the court and of the ambition of countless men who have worked day and night to get to this position! Even more so, it’s a mockery of the citizens whose taxes pay for our presence here! Please think about this carefully, Your Excellency, for you are young and still see many issues with far more idealism than I would do so at my age. What Minister Zhang proposes to start will come back to consume us in the end!”

  “I understand that as well, but I don’t think that allowing factionalism to consume the court is an option either, even if we’ve actively contributed to setting up this mess. You know as well as I do how inane and unreasonable political infighting can get, all at the cost of the taxpayer. I won’t deny that this will create problems down the line, but so will any other option! We can only deal with problems as they arise. It’s a war of endurance, not one of speed or strength,” Kayla said grimly. “I think that Minister Zhang’s suggestion is timely. It will not always be the most suitable path, and we will need to find a new one at some point. Of course, if you have a better one in mind right now, then I will gladly hear of it.”

  “I don’t like this,” Yao Gongzhuo muttered. “I don’t. It’s asking for trouble. Look at what kind of precedent we’re setting for thousands of generations to come!”

  “That’s the point,” Kayla said. “We’re setting the precedent. That means we get to set the rules.”

  “Like I said, you’re still too young!” Yao Gongzhuo sighed. “Politics is such that more often than not, reality will differ from your wishes! Do you think that the Emperor will sit by and let such a thing happen? The one thing that rulers despise the most is when those he has pitched against each other work together against him!”

  Kayla was silent for a moment. Zhang Dingyong also kept his peace, satisfied to leave the thorny problem to Kayla.

  “A while ago, I asked myself a question, and I wasn’t very sure of my answer until recently,” Kayla finally said. “How far am I willing to go to see the reforms through?”

  Yao Gongzhuo frowned slightly, ever the solidly principled man.

  “I thought it through, carefully, and I took a good clear look at our situation,” Kayla said. “From a comparative historical perspective, from a financial or military standpoint, this is our last chance for a mid-dynasty revitalization. Anything later than this can no longer meaningfully forestall the decline of the Wu dynasty into destruction.”

  “That’s–that’s a very bold claim,” Yao Gongzhuo said uneasily. “I can certainly think why you would think this way, but many men ahead of you have thought the same as well. Each generation is prone to believing that those who come after are somehow no longer of the same ilk and breed, no longer as human at core and thus incapable of the same invention and folly. Your own fears may be biasing your conclusions. ”

  “I wish they were! But look at it. Our northern neighbor grows stronger by the year rather than weaker. The longer we stagnate, the greater the difference between us will grow! How long before Chuluo Khagan swallows the Western Turks for good? You, as Minister of War, surely understand the implications of this better than I do. And look further west, to our good trading partners. Persia is crumbling before the Umayyad Caliphate, and who knows how far into Sogdia they’ll end up expanding? What pressures will that put upon the Turks?” Kayla argued.

  “I know that as well as you do. It’s why I’m in favor of the Emperor’s marriage plans,” Yao Gongzhuo said.

  “Yes, I appreciate that. But in truth, we are already moving to forestall and drag out the peace for as long as it can last. What’s the point if we cannot strengthen ourselves in the meantime?” Kayla asked. “And look at our finances. Our trade is increasing, war or no war in the West. But our tax revenue decreases by the year. The same goes for agriculture! We’re in no scarcity of arable land, no scarcity of harvests. But the grain silos get hollower by the year, and funds that were meant to refill them get pocketed–believe me when I say I know that well.”

  Yao Gongzhuo nodded grimly at the last part, doubtlessly thinking of the Grand Duke.

  “Knowing all this, the most unforgivable thing we can do now is not failing to revitalize the dynasty. It’s failing to try,” Kayla said. “Frankly, if these reforms show themselves clearly not to work no matter how I push them through, I will stop and change gears immediately. I don’t care if I’m seen as intemperate or conniving.”

  “Hey!” Zhang Dingyong snapped, though she had not mentioned him.

  “Nor do I particularly care if I’m seen as a second coming of my grandfather. I want results, because that’s what the people of this country deserve for lifetimes of hard work–not to have their taxes squandered without their having a say,” Kayla said.

  “And we do not want you to be seen as a second coming of your grandfather,” Zhang Dingyong interjected with great emphasis.

  “An admirable mission,” Yao Gongzhuo said, distress clear in his voice. “I respect it very much, Your Excellency. But I do not know about this. If our actions only accelerate the chaos of the court, then it may very well be that there will only be decline from here! Colluding between factions is the downfall of the country, no matter what ends you do it for!”

  “My lord, never have I wanted anyone’s understanding more than I’ve wanted yours,” Kayla said. “But I respect you too much to wheedle you with empty promises. Please promise me that you’ll at least think on it.”

  Yao Gongzhuo nodded reluctantly. “I certainly shall. I will take my leave of you now.”

  Kayla walked him to the door, keeping courteous until the very last moment. She turned back to Zhang Dingyong.

  “That didn’t go well,” Kayla said wryly.

  “No, not even with Your Excellency being so touchingly earnest,” Zhang Dingyong said with a pitying look.

  “It would have gone a lot better if you’d warned me beforehand,” Kayla said.

  “Then you wouldn’t have given such a moving speech,” he replied insufferably. She briefly considered violence, then decided against it. Zhang Dingyong was annoyingly useful in a way that was starting to grow on her, a fact that annoyed her more than anything else about him.

  “Well, we need to convince Minister Yao. If we can’t get him on board, we won’t be getting many people on board at all,” Kayla said.

  “No,” Zhang Dingyong agreed. “But frankly, I can’t convince him. The petty matter of self-interest doesn’t matter to him as much as his sense of duty–he’s the type I’m naturally unable to get along with. It’s up to you, my lord.”

  Then, just to make sure she couldn’t relax, Zhang Dingyong’s face suddenly grew solemn. “I certainly hope you succeed.”

  She sighed softly. Throw it to me, huh?

  Well, Zhang Dingyong wouldn’t have acted if he didn’t think it was possible. He never went against his interests.

  Xianchun stared blankly at the plants before him. They were very green. In the distance, someone stood there, watching him intently. Probably Yu Bianfu, his discontented wife, or Liu Boyue, his discontented advisor. Or, more likely, one of his brother’s spies, to whom he needed to show himself useless and boring in order to keep his discontented childhood friends alive.

  His mind was replaying the ceremony from the day before. As one of the few people present who actually managed to hear and understand every part of what was being said, he was still trying to wrap his mind around it and actually understand what the hell was happening now.

  Did it really matter? Not to him, perhaps, now that he was an Archduke with an empty title. He wasn’t even allowed to leave the capital–not that it had been imposed on him in such strict terms, but in a tried and true Yunqi fashion, pressed upon Xianchun very gently.

  But it mattered to the country. His country. It still was his country, even if he didn’t own it. One of those small curiosities that only the truly idle could think of, but wasn’t it strange that a country was something that each of its subjects could claim belonging over, and yet still only have one master?

  Useless frivolities like these occupied Xianchun’s thoughts, barring them from the deeper despair that was gnawing its way into his soul.

  He had thought he would be able to accept it, to bide his time.

  Perhaps Xianchun had thought too highly of himself. He couldn’t bear it, the suffocating parade of days that went by meaninglessly. Becoming Emperor, avenging his mother, those goals had bore him through the tumultuous years of his youth. It had given him the strength to endure anything. He had been brave enough to take on anyone, without minding how high the sky nor how thick the earth.

  Now, Xianchun felt as though he was drowning. Everything had started going seriously wrong when Kuang died–the older brother he had always looked up to most. Xianchun would have killed Kuang one day if he’d had to, but some part of him had always wanted to surpass Kuang. And he had been arrogant enough to think he could.

  Yet even in death, Kuang bested him.

  No, not Kuang. Merely the lingering glow of Kuang’s affection had been enough to crown Yunqi.

  Xianchun sighed, staring blankly out the window.

  The country was starting to move, like one giant wagon that had picked up enough momentum to start rolling out of the mud. And Xianchun had no place on that wagon.

  Would it have been easier if he had someone to be angry at?

  Xianchun had no one to place the blame on. Yunqi had been shockingly lenient towards his former rival, despite the low blows that Xianchun had resorted to against the Shu clan. Wenyuan had saved Xianchun from a wrongful death at the hands of his own father and then probably did a great deal more to ensure that Xianchun’s new estate was comfortable.

  There was nothing to it–he had just lost.

  How am I supposed to live like this?

  As the court squabbled and formed cliques, then slowly lined up into two major factions, Xianchun had watched for every piece of reform policy with eager eyes, filled with anticipation at what kind of world was about to emerge. He had almost considered begging Yunqi to let him participate in politics, flip-flopping the idea in his mind. What would be more embarrassing? If Yunqi agreed or if he refused?

  Yunqi hadn’t even really banned Xianchun from politics. But there was a silent command that went unspoken and unenforced. Xianchun had just complied on his own.

  Then there had come the invitation to the ceremony, which Xianchun had taken first with trepidation, then a stirring interest.

  Zhao Wenyuan was exceedingly courteous and kind to Xianchun at the ceremony, and so had Yunqi, for that matter. Princess Ashina, now that Xianchun actually interacted with her, was shockingly young, and he felt a strange stirring of pity for the young woman who was bearing a child in a foreign land.

  Not that he was really in a position to pity anyone.

  Yet the ceremony–as Xianchun watched it, he had realized something was subtly wrong. Xianchun wasn’t astute enough to tell exactly what, but he was certainly astute to know it was there. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Xianchun had sensed the slightest hint of discord like a hound sniffs blood from an injured hare.

  It was an almost instinctive realization, born from an even more instinctive scrutiny of Wenyuan. They had been rivals, then tentative allies, then rivals again, a tumultuous connection that had taught Xianchun, more so than anything else, to watch Wenyuan for any sign of an opening. The same way that he had noted, retroactively, Wenyuan watching him through the months of the succession struggle.

  Though Xianchun called it a rivalry, Liu Boyue had seemed to mistake parts of it as camaraderie or sympathy–for a time, yes, but Liu Boyue had been mistaken. It was a strange sort of thing–Xianchun might not have made it this far without Wenyuan stirring up so much political turmoil. He might have made it further. But there was one thing he was very certain about.

  Without Xianchun, Wenyuan never would have made it this far.

  It wasn’t arrogance or an inflated ego or projection, but the simple truth of it. Doted upon he might have been, but Wenyuan was never necessary as a politician until the succession struggle. If Xianchun, someone who never really had a chance based on birth hadn’t clawed his way into candidacy, Wenyuan would never have become a Duke.

  It hadn’t been obvious during the process. But in the despair-inducing stillness that had followed Yunqi’s coronation, Xianchun had time to think and reflect upon just what the hell had happened in the whirlwind months prior.

  So now, Xianchun mulled, and watched the plants. He wasn’t sure why or what, but he was beginning to sense a pattern.

  Imperial blood. Power. The cannibalistic nature of the throne.

  Wenyuan’s ascendancy and the delicate balances that were starting to tip.

  A chance was going to emerge, and it would be tailored to fit Xianchun.

  He only needed to wait.

  Cultural Notes

  伤天害理/Offend the heaves and harms [the] principles [of man]: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to grievous acts, aka crimes against humanity.

  吃瓜/Eat melons: A Chinese expression referring to curious onlookers who are just there for the drama. If you've ever suddenly found a way to keep busy in the close vicinity of some juicy fight, that's what we call eating melons. It brings to mind an enraptured audience devouring a melon while they watch a plot unfold on stage.

  Nestorian Church in Tang Dynasty: The earliest recorded Christian church in Ancient China. There were records of Christian activity from missionaries of an Assyrian church during the Tang Dynasty, hence what Yao Gongzhuo referred to. This sect of Christianity mostly died out with the fall of the Tang.

  十/Ten: So the Chinese character for ten looks a lot like a cross, hence why the term for cross in China is also 十字架 "a post shaped like the word ten".

  Islam in the Tang Dynasty: There are records of Arabic Muslims in the Tang Dynasty who were allowed to conduct their own worship and build mosques under the self-governance of a religious leader. Realistically, would a Minister know the term Imam? Probably not, but it depended on how cosmopolitan his social circle was.

  Zoroastrianism in the Tang Dynasty: This was the primary religion of Persians in China during the Tang Dynasty, and again, religious, worship, and other related matters of self-governance were delegated to Persian dignitaries. There were multiple parishes of Zoroastrians in the Tang Dynasty though most were gone by the Song dynasty.

  Mobad: A term referring to a Zoroastrian cleric. Also spelled mobed, mowbed.

  功不可没/Contributions cannot be overlooked: An Ancient Chinese proverb used to praise someone's achievements.

  郁郁不得志/Sullen/Depressed by thwarted/unrealized ambitions: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to someone who is depressed, unhappy, or unfulfilled due to having ambitions that were either thwarted or unrealized. This category is made famous by the many poets whose thwarted ambitions made for some very powerful and moving literature. One of the most famous poets in this category is Li Bai/Lee the White (that's just his name, he was Asian), who wrote famous lines describing his thwarted ambition such as "欲渡黄河冰塞川，将登太行雪满山/I wish to cross the Yellow River but ice blocks the valley, I wish to climb the Taihang mountains but snow covers the peaks.” However, scholars and critics argue that Li Bai's poems are still too happy for him to be the champion of this category, and Du Fu, the Tang Dynasty poet who was a big Li Bai fan and several years younger, is often considered a better representation, with lines such as "万里悲秋常作客，百年多病独登台/Ten thousand miles of the sorrowful autumn are my constant guests, nearing a hundred years I drag my ailing body up the tower alone". Arguably, the Southern Song poet and general Xin Qiji is also a titular example, as he was an excellent commander who was never given a chance to go back onto the battlefield to reclaim territory against northern invaders after his crowning achievement, on account of the court not wanting to go to war. Year after year of waiting only to have his hopes frustrated, he wrote in old age the famous lines "了却君王天下事，赢得生前身后名。可怜白发生!/I wished to complete the unrealized wishes of my liege and the country, and win my living reputation and posthumous fame. Pity is it that my hair has grown white!"

  放虎归山/Release the tiger back into the mountain: An Ancient Chinese proverb that means to release a dangerous person back into their home arena, aka to let loose someone to create more trouble.

  眼皮底下/Under [one's] eyelids: A Chinese proverb that means to keep someone under such close watch that they're practically inside your eyelids at this point.

  十常侍/Ten Constant Attendants: The notorious ten eunuchs who were widely blamed for the rapid decline of the Eastern Han Dynasty, and the coup against them was widely known as the start of the Three Kingdoms era.

  不拘小节/Doesn't pay attention to small matters of etiquette: An Ancient Chinese proverb that refers to someone who is broad-hearted and has great forbearance, aka someone with a larger-than-life personality who as a result may overlook or entirely ignore convention on some smaller matters of etiquette or social nicety.

  一家独大/One family gains hegemony alone: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to a situation where someone (not the ruling the family) gains too much power. Since Ancient Chinese politics focus a great deal on balancing power out, this was seen as a great taboo to have in politics.

  功高盖主/Achievements that tower over/cover your master: An Ancient Chinese proverb that refers to someone whose accomplishments, fame, and reputation have grown too popular and influential, and thus has come to be seen as a threat to their ruler. Such people rarely meet a good end.

  细水长流/Thin stream trickles on for longer: An Ancient Chinese proverb that means to not indulge in a good thing too much, but rather to enjoy your blessings sparingly and thus have it for longer.

  赏无可赏/[Point where] there is nothing more to reward you with: An Ancient Chinese proverb. Similar to having accomplishments that tower over your master, someone who has been granted all sorts of promotions, titles, fiefs, gifts, honors by the Emperor to the point where they have already been given the highest honors that they can possibly be given. This often means that their hyper competence can no longer be meaningfully rewarded, so the Emperor either can no longer give them any more chances to earn even higher rewards, since they do not exist, or in the worse option, the Emperor sees them as a threat. And in that case, they need to tread very very carefully if they want to keep their heads attached.

  渔翁之利/Reap the fisherman's benefit: An Ancient Chinese proverb that means to gain benefits from two (or more) other groups fighting it out, just as a fisherman earns benefits just by waiting.

  你死我活/[You] must die for me to live: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to a fight to the death.

  和气生财/Harmony fosters prosperity: An Ancient Chinese saying often used to encourage harmony and good relations.

  反噬/Come back to consume us: A Chinese term with a pretty specific meaning as translated. It directly translates to "reverse consumed".

  事与愿违/Reality will differ from your wishes: A Chinese saying, similar to nothing goes by plan.

  中兴/Mid-dynasty revitalization: A Chinese term referring to a relatively specific occurrence. The start of a dynasty usually has relatively competent rulers, but as time goes by, opulence, corruption, and intrigue starts to eat at the court. The sudden emergence of a ruler competent enough to start another Golden Age that extends the lifespan of the dynasty (hence making this mid-dynasty and not late dynasty) is known as 中兴之主/A liege of mid-dynasty revitalization.

  不知天高地厚/Not knowing/minding how high the sky nor how thick the earth: An Ancient Chinese proverb that means to act without fear, without knowing how dangerous your adversaries or how difficult the path, or, in partial knowledge of all this, without reverence or fear towards these challenges.