Character Index

  Zhou Yunqi: Fifth son of Emperor Xuanzong, the Emperor.

  Yao Gongzhuo: Minister of War.

  Zhang Dingyong: Minister of Justice.

  Qiu Jinwei: Advisor of Zhou Yunqi.

  Zhu Simo: Right Secretariat of Revenue, a staunch conservative of the Shandong faction. Probably the only one who's genuinely invested in the traditions he's espousing.

  Zhou Kuang: Third son of Emperor Xuanzong, posthumously titled as Grand Prince.

  Zhou Xianchun: Seventh son of Emperor Xuanzong, titled as Archduke.

  Zhou Ying: Father of the current emperor, posthumously titled Emperor Xuanzong.

  Grand Duke Zhao: Wenyuan's (twice-adopted) grandfather. Dominated court politics for many years before his death.

  Luo Qichen: A retainer in Lord He's household.

  Lord He: An official in the Department of State Affairs, one of the heads of the capital aristocrats, in coalition wih the Shandong faction.

  Hua Ying: A retainer who works for Lord He.

  He Zhengda: The prodigal third son of Lord He. Has an illegitimate son.

  Lord Cui: Also in the Three Departments, co-leader of the capital aristocrats.

  Tao Qian: Kayla's chief retainer.

  Han Daizhi: Director within the Ministry of Personnel, part of the conservative bloc from Shandong and its primary strategist.

  Jiang She: Vice-Director within the Ministry of Rites, part of the conservative bloc from Shandong.

  Li Que: Senior Investigator of the Imperial Investigation Bureau.

  Lin Yaoguang: Deceased money launderer of the Grand Duke.

  Yuan An: An Imperial Investigator in the Hebei branch.

  Tabuyir: A Senior Investigator of Khitan descent. His nephew is lodging under Kayla's care as a ward/hostage.

  An Haoyang: A former Imperial Investigator who was undercover to help Xiang Daozong's revenge.

  Xiang Daozong/Qu Boyong: Lord of the Xiang clan, he sought revenge against the Grand Duke for the extermination of his clan.

  Sima Qi: Former poison tester of Zhou Kuang, he was arrested after Zhou Kuang's death but spared due to Kayla's efforts.

  The capital was encompassed in an air of anxiety and anticipation as the second month of the new Emperor’s reign came to a close. The first batches of Dowager Consorts had headed out to their new charity institutions amidst great contention on the part of the court and great ceremony on the part of the Emperor, who had specifically welcomed them back to the Imperial Palace before seeing them off. The civilians of the capital varied as much in opinion as the court did–some were touched by the kindness and strength of the recently bereaved Dowager Consorts who nonetheless were working hard for the sake of the common people, while others decried it as a farce and a disgrace that the Emperor cooked up for political benefit.

  The officials of the capital had less energy to expend on the matter–the new agricultural and trade reforms were their greatest concern. The more industrious found time to criticize or praise both matters, but most had their hands full with just the one.

  Despite the rocky start of the reforms, the agricultural bill had come to be known by its most prominent policy, the Green Sprout Law, while the trade bill had been similarly boiled down to its representative, the Border Markets Law. Zhao Wenyuan slowly gained traction as the staunch and reliable Yao Gongzhuo had taken his side, along with the significantly less reliable but brilliant Zhang Dingyong. The traditionalists of the neutral faction became accepting of the unprecedented reforms bit by bit under the incessant efforts of Qiu Jinwei, and the previously shunned position of the reformists had become a laudable stance.

  Zhu Simo and the Shandong faction had won an early victory through their galvanizing rhetoric, but slowly lost momentum after the reforms were publicized–they did, however, have the effect of polarizing the court far more sharply than before. Previous factional alignments no longer mattered. Whether one had supported Grand Prince Kuang, Archduke Xianchun, Emperor Xuanzong, or even Grand Duke Zhao lost its meaning as an indication of whether one was an enemy or an ally. Instead, the distinction lay in an official’s sympathies–whether it was for the old laws of the traditionalists or of the new laws of the reformists.

  It was in such an atmosphere that a young guard by the name of Luo Qichen found himself nervously standing in a meeting room. Under normal circumstances, he would be outside. That was the polite thing to do, have your retainers wait outside while you meet with the important person, but no, Lord He wouldn’t do that. He wanted his guards right behind him, one to the left and one to the right, looming ominously in the background to intimidate a guest who was obviously not intimidated.

  Luo Qichen’s master Lord He was of the capital elite, as in elite since the previous dynasty and not just some clan who gained prominence in the Wu, something that the master emphasized on a semi-regular basis. The He clan had already produced countless high-ranking officials and scholars before the current ruling clan had even begun its upwards ascendancy. And it was why Lord He was doing this, ordering Luo Qichen and Hua Ying to stand right inside the meeting room while hosting an important guest.

  Even so, historically prominent clan or not, this is the Emperor’s right-hand man, Luo Qichen thought uneasily. Why go to the trouble of insulting him like this? It’s not like you can actually do anything to him!

  And even if Lord He wanted to do that, why drag in Luo Qichen? He always ended up with the short end on the stick. His usual job was to prevent He Zhengda from creating another scandal, and to accept whatever abuse was flung his way as a result. Just the other day he had gotten slapped while escorting He Zhengda for literally no reason. The job brought him uncomfortably close to the decay beneath the veneer of the capital aristocrats, and apparently made him eligible for other, equally undesirable tasks. Like this one.

  Across the room, Zhao Wenyuan sat with his fingers neatly folded in his lap. The young Duke didn’t seem ruffled at all, though his own retainers were waiting a very respectful distance away from the meeting room. They had been stopped at the door while Hua Ying and Luo Qichen had been allowed in, and they seemed genuinely pissed about it.

  Zhao Wenyuan was now twenty-six, two years older than Luo Qichen. The Duke’s birthday had passed without even a celebration, as they were only two months into the mourning period for the late Emperor Xuanzong. But even without grand festivities to demonstrate his wealth and influence, there wasn’t anyone in the capital who didn’t know of him. He was the new Emperor’s most trusted man just as he had been the old Emperor’s most trusted man, and probably soon to be the Emperor’s brother-in-law as well, if the Emperor did end up marrying a Turkish princess.

  Spitting in Zhao Wenyuan’s face is only one step removed from spitting in the Emperor’s face. The new Emperor’s still sensitive and insecure in his power–and yet Lord He thinks that this is a good time to issue provocations?

  Luo Qichen gave Lord He’s back a wary glance. The old lord obviously didn’t notice, though Zhao Wenyuan seemed to. A look of amusement flickered ever-so-briefly across the man’s face before melting away without a trace.

  “I am very grateful to you for meeting with me on such short notice,” Zhao Wenyuan said politely.

  He had finally gotten a meeting with Lord He after issuing three requests. Lord He had only accepted because he didn’t trust the young Duke not to lose patience and arrest him. Sure, the Duke’s reputation would take a major blow, but there wasn’t much there to lose. For Lord He though? That was decades of decorum, destroyed in a flash.

  “Very well, Duke Zhao. Let’s cut the pleasantries. What do you want from me?” Lord He asked. “We both know you didn’t come here without a reason.”

  Zhao Wenyuan smiled humorlessly. “Alright then, if that is what Lord He wishes. My lord, you have opposed every single policy I have proposed for the new reforms. May I ask what dissatisfies you with them? I am not so stubborn that I would ignore good reason.”

  Lord He stared at him stonily.

  Man, what the hell did you even come here for then? Luo Qichen silently griped. You’re not going to get anywhere with that.

  Zhao Wenyuan continued, his tone light and casual. “I can understand your opposition to the initiative for the Dowager Consorts to establish charitable institutions in the regions. I can’t say that I agree with you, but you’re a man of tradition, and I’ll respect that. But what about the Border Markets and the Green Sprout Law? Those cause no harm, do they? And there’s no tradition forbidding it.”

  Lord He’s stare darkened into a glower.

  “You overreach yourself, Duke Zhao. I will not support these policies, and you’ve heard my reasons at the Imperial Court. That you would come into my house and insinuate otherwise is an insult!”

  “I understand your concerns, Lord He. Indeed, these are untested measures, and we have taken that into consideration by improving upon the original wording to provide better protections,” Zhao Wenyuan said. “But you rejected the revised proposals as well.”

  “It is not the proposal itself that I take issue with,” Lord He said. “But the intention that lays behind it.”

  Zhao Wenyuan was silent for a moment before he leaned forward again for another try.

  This guy really doesn’t back down easily, huh?

  Luo Qichen warily watched the young Duke. Weren’t nobles supposed to have thin faces? This one evidently didn’t–he was blatantly shameless, and that rubbed Lord He the wrong way.

  “Two years ago, did you not praise this poem by one of your clients? ‘A gaunt and hungry face without hints of pink, how could she know that luxury truly exists in this world? Each year she works to the bone caring for the silkworms, but is clad head to toe in rough cloth.’ If I recall, you commended that poet as the foremost among those you granted patronage to,” Zhao Wenyuan said.

  A vein twitched in Lord He’s face.

  “I didn’t realize that Your Excellency had such refined interests,” Lord He said sarcastically.

  Zhao Wenyuan smiled as if he didn’t hear the insult.

  “Who doesn’t know that Lord He is the patron of the best poets in the capital?” Zhao Wenyuan said. “That poet has produced countless other works, but I feel that the poem you praised at that time was his best work to date.”

  “Forget about that poem, we–”

  “Did you not praise that poem because you felt sympathy for its subject’s plight? The Border Markets and the Foreign Trade Quarters are designed to bring more wealth to everyone–the court, the merchants, and the people. That is the intention that lies behind it. Aren’t our beliefs actually aligned on this matter?” Zhao Wenyuan asked.

  “You’re resorting to sophistry,” Lord He said, his patience running thin. “Do you think me such an easy man to sway?”

  “Lord He, doesn’t your clan dabble in foreign trade as well?” Zhao Wenyuan began to say.

  “Are you attempting to bribe me? How dare you?!”

  “Not a bribe, Lord He. I’m merely trying to extrapolate the benefits and the risks of this policy to you,” Zhao Wenyuan replied.

  “I don’t want to hear it, I’ve heard it all before,” Lord He said. “I’ve heard your proposals twice, and I’ve rejected them twice. If you do not wish to face humiliation a third time, then let it rest.”

  Wenyuan smiled thinly. “It’s not certain yet that I’ll fail a third time.”

  Lord He gave him an icy look. “Oh? Then will you frame another clan to get your way this time, the way you did with the Wang clan of Taiyuan to get your little communication network?”

  Zhao Wenyuan’s eyes hardened briefly, but he leaned back in his seat, splaying his palms in a helpless gesture.

  “If that is what you think, I suppose there’s nothing I can do,” Zhao Wenyuan said. “Still, thank you for meeting with me today. I hope that we can continue to get along, even if our opinions about policy don’t always align.”

  He was backing down, offering an out for both of them that still left some space for reconciliation in some distant future.

  But Luo Qichen could see the tension in Lord He’s shoulders. The older man wasn’t about to leave the Duke any face.

  Stop, just stop while you’re ahead, Luo Qichen silently pleaded.

  Lord He didn’t seem to understand the simple truth–he thought that the Emperor's favor for Zhao Wenyuan was not as secure as in the previous regime. It was easy to think that way, even with the two about to become brothers-in-law. For one, the Emperor’s new Turkish consort would render Zhao Wenyuan’s political marriage superfluous.

  Yet if the capital elites managed to take out Zhao Wenyuan, the hammer would come down on them. Sure, with enough conniving, they could get the man deposed, or even exiled. If they were lucky, Zhao Wenyuan would commit “suicide” at some point soon after. But the Emperor would start publicly expressing regrets before very long, and then opportunistic clerks and officials would come crawling out of the wood works with accusations against Lord He and his cronies for framing, enticing, or slandering Zhao Wenyuan. And the Emperor would have an excuse to destroy them for causing the downfall of one of his few remaining family members. Public opinion would definitely side with the pitiful Emperor, of course. When these things happened, it was either entirely the Emperor’s fault or not his fault at all.

  Given the current atmosphere, it’ll definitely be the latter. The clans still have too much influence to let Zhao Wenyuan pass his reforms, but they have also lost enough influence that they can’t just dominate the narrative as before.

  The people would side with the Emperor. The capital elite would be swept off the playing board.

  So down the tower crumbled, with everyone still trapped inside. Including Luo Qichen. His ten-year contract wasn’t up yet, and with the way things were going, Lord He just might go down before the term ended.

  Yunqi really was the epitome of “azure emerges from blue but surpasses it”. From the very beginning of his reign, he had planted a potent trap for his opponents. Damned if they did, damned if they didn’t.

  Just leave it, old man. Be quiet for once, it won’t fucking kill you, Luo Qichen silently pleaded. Lord He didn’t get the telepathic message.

  “No, you cannot change my mind, Duke Zhao. What I oppose is not your person, but the principles you represent. You have been in the court for how long? Yet how many precedents have you broken? You scorn tradition and the existing order, even as you benefit from it. That hypocrisy will be the end of you. Do you think no one else can see it? The late Emperor Xuanzong was blinded by familial affection towards his orphaned nephew, but you’ll soon find that His Majesty won’t be so forgiving,” Lord He said venomously.

  Zhao Wenyuan’s face twitched slightly.

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  “I see. Though I am disappointed by your answer, I’m impressed by your staunch values,” Zhao Wenyuan replied in a pleasant tone. “If that is the case, I won’t waste any more of your time.”

  “Have a safe trip back,” Lord He said, not even getting up from his seat.

  Zhao Wenyuan smiled thinly and left the room, but not before sweeping his gaze over Luo Qichen and Hua Ying.

  Huh?! What the fuck, don’t look at us?!!! Come on, man, this has nothing to do with me!

  If only he hadn’t signed that damn contract. Becoming a permanent retainer had seemed like a good choice at the time, but how fate loved to make fools of men. Luo Qichen glanced over to Hua Ying, who gave him a helpless look of exasperation.

  “Hmph, can you believe the nerve of that bastard!” Lord He snarled. “He doesn’t even have basic sense!”

  The lord was unusually pissed. Did it have to do with the third young master? He Zhengda had been insufferable after his recent tiff with his father, and it certainly didn’t improve Lord He’s congeniality either. The situation was getting unnecessarily dangerous. Wouldn’t a compromise be better? That had been the capital elites’ way of surviving until now–compromising with whoever was in power. Why escalate this time?

  He thought of saying as much, but Luo Qichen caught Hua Ying’s warning glance.

  Luo Qichen set his jaw and stayed silent, bowing slightly as Lord He left the room.

  “This is a bad idea,” Luo Qichen hissed to Hua Ying the second Lord He was out of earshot.

  “Leave it,” Hua Ying hissed back.

  “How can I leave it? If he goes down, we’ll go down with him!”

  “Leave. It. The He clan’s not going down that easy. They’ve been a stalwart in the capital for centuries by now, and you’re worrying about them?” Hua Ying said impatiently.

  “Well, I–”

  “Keep your mouth shut before you get another walloping,” Hua Ying warned him. “The lord’s already in a bad mood. Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

  Letting out a discontented sigh, Luo Qichen slunk out of the room. He doubted this would be the last they saw of Zhao Wenyuan.

  Kayla rejoined her glowering guards, who had spent the meeting outside.

  “My lord,” Tao Qian greeted her as she exited.

  “Let’s go,” Kayla said, giving Lord He’s guards an amiable smile, the one she modeled after canvassing politicians in her own country. In Luoyang, it had the effect of baffling the servants and guards, which was a benefit of its own in a roundabout way.

  “Those rude bastards!” Tao Qian hissed under his breath as they returned to the carriage. “And here I thought that Lord He was a learned man! To think he would allow armed guards in the room for a meeting between officials!”

  Kayla smiled to herself as she got into the carriage. An angry Tao Qian–now there was a rare sight to be had.

  “My lord, did you not mention the matter of his son?” Tao Qian asked from horseback as they headed off from the He household.

  “No, I didn’t,” Kayla replied.

  “Why not? He certainly wouldn’t have dared to be so rude if you had,” Tao Qian said, careful not to sound accusing.

  Kayla smiled. “I’ve put you guys in quite an awkward position, haven’t I?”

  “It’s not that,” Tao Qian protested. “Lord He had no right to forbid you from bringing guards in when he does so himself–what if he tries something foolish? It’s not safe for you to go along with his arrangements. Does he even have the rank to do this?”

  “He’s the same rank as me, but his position is in the Three Departments, which is technically higher in the hierarchy. Plus, he has seniority. But you have a point,” Kayla said. “I don’t think that’s a concern yet, he’s still a long way off from being a cornered dog who jumps the wall. Even if I dragged his son in, he would still be a long way off from it.”

  She was getting a clearer picture of her opponent with each interaction, and now she knew for sure that she could bring him down.

  Tao Qian frowned slightly. “Do you intend to inflate his ego so that he will bring about his own downfall, my lord?”

  “I don’t have the time for that,” Kayla said. “Plus, that’s too risky. After all, the capital elites have their own philosophy of survival, so it might not work anyways. I do plan on using his son against him–today was just to see if he was someone that could be reasoned with even a little bit. Now that I’ve confirmed that it’s impossible, I can go all out without worrying. But until I have solid evidence, damning evidence, against He Zhengda, I won’t act. Otherwise, Lord He can just cut his losses by sending his son out of the capital.”

  “I see,” Tao Qian murmured. “Then we’ll need to build a strong case against He Zhengda, one that can be prosecuted.”

  “Heavens permitting, we will do so quickly,” Kayla said. “Focusing on his philandering is no use–unfortunately, he’s smart enough to choose his targets among women of lower classes, so it’s hard to prosecute. We need something sufficiently outrageous to the upper classes. Keep digging and see if we can’t find something.”

  “Perhaps one of Lord He’s retainers or servants will talk,” Tao Qian said. “Even if they can’t testify against their master, they can provide some leads for us. From what I saw today, I don’t think that the Lord He’s staff have any lost love for the household. They’re not a very happy bunch.”

  “I can imagine,” Kayla said. “If you think it’s worth pursuing, go ahead. I’ll leave the arrangements up to you.”

  “Yes sir!”

  Han Daizhi paced the room–it was a small one, for Han Daizhi wasn’t one who was particularly obsessed over material grandeur. It was power that he craved, not a large home or luxury items. Crammed into the same room as him, Jiang She watched Han Daizhi stalk back and forth at a dizzying pace while Zhu Simo was absorbed in vehemently correcting a report full of grammatical errors.

  “Lord He says that Zhao Wenyuan tried to negotiate,” Han Daizhi said. “It seems the Duke is rather confident.”

  “It is good to take note of potential warning signs, but it is foolish to be taken hostage by them,” Jiang She said in his pedantic tone. “He may very well have done so to throw us into confusion and display an advantage that he does not hold.”

  “But even so, we are losing traction,” Han Daizhi commented. “We need something to increase our momentum, or the Emperor’s faction will eventually grind us down into dust.”

  Zhu Simo, who had shown no interest in the conversation before, lifted his head with a frown.

  “What do you mean?”

  Han Daizhi felt a flicker of surety through his chest–that flicker which appeared sometimes when a good choice was about to be made. There was a solution after all, Han Daizhi thought in satisfaction.

  “Well, it’s not so bad,” Han Daizhi comforted Zhu Simo. “For those who were partial to our stance, it doesn’t particularly matter whether they see the full text of the reforms or not.”

  “No, not that. What do you mean when you say we’ve lost our momentum?” Zhu Simo demanded.

  Han Daizhi gave Jiang She a look of disbelief. The former schoolmaster cleared his throat.

  “Well, it seems that the Border Markets have been gaining support among the undecided officials of the court,” Jiang She explained. “There are still a great deal of objections over other parts of the reform, including the Green Sprouts Law, but Zhang Dingyong has been advertising the Border Markets as a pathway to increased wealth for everyone, commoners, merchants, and officials alike. He’s rather good at appealing to people’s basest instincts, and has cunningly targeted their greed, knowing that once they’ve latched onto the idea of the Border Markets, they’ll be more likely to compromise if not outright capitulate on the other reform policies. Unfortunately, it would seem that your previous efforts have not been well appreciated, Brother Zhu. Not everyone shares your passion for doing the right thing for the sake of it. But please don’t take it to heart, time will show in the end.”

  “Why on earth would I take it to heart?” Zhu Simo exclaimed. “What makes you think the reforms will succeed?”

  “For all the reasons I have just explained,” Jiang She said drily.

  Zhu Simo cast an impatient glance over them as if exasperated with their obstinate refusal to understand.

  “We have the Duke, and you worry that the reforms will progress too smoothly?” Zhu Simo asked in disbelief. “I previously stuck to the facts of the reform out of respect for a fellow official, but morals dictate that preserving the order of the country must trump courtesy to an individual!”

  Han Daizhi’s eyes lit up with a sharp gleam. There it was then, the factor that would cinch his victory. “Oh? Brother Zhu has something in mind then?”

  “As part of the Department of Revenue, I am well-acquainted with the Zhao household’s finances,” Zhu Simo said. “Zhao Wenyuan is in debt. The only reason he is not bankrupt and destitute is because Emperor Xuanzong struck a deal with him–an illegal one, to be clear. If there is proof of embezzlement, the only right course of action is the search and seizure of the official’s estates, even if it is posthumously! Zhao Wenyuan himself applied that principle–for why should a man be able to steal from the nation and get away with it for free just because he’s dead? The estate must still be seized! It is a farce of justice to allow–”

  “Oh don’t get started on that!” Han Daizhi cried in exasperation. “Focus! What about the Zhao household?”

  “Emperor Xuanzong permitted his nephew to keep all his wealth and undertake a payment plan,” Zhu Simo said. “The right thing to do would have been to seize all assets of the Zhao clan, which were ill-gotten gains to begin with!”

  “The debt,” Han Daizhi cut in before Zhu Simo ran off on a tangent again. “How much is he in debt?”

  “The amount that was owed to the Treasury totals eight million and seven hundred thousand eighty nine silver,” Zhu Simo replied. “That is the extent of the Grand Duke’s corruption. As of now, the Duke has paid two hundred and fifteen thousand silver.”

  He shook his fists, one of them clenched around the now badly crumpled report.

  Both his friends stared at him with wide eyes. In Shandong, just having ten thousand silver was to be a household of impressive wealth. Even after coming to the capital, where the threshold was significantly higher, never did they as outsiders directly come into contact with such astronomical sums.

  “Gentlemen, if you piled up eight million silver, you would have a mountain the size of Mount Tai!” Zhu SImo roared, getting worked up. “A man in debt to this degree proposes reforms around trade and agriculture, and we let him do it? Why don’t we directly place the foxes into the chicken coops?! Why not place the wolves inside the sheep kennel?! I kept my silence out of respect for the man’s pride, but no more!”

  Zhu Simo whirled upon Jiang She.

  “And Zhang Dingyong boldly advertises it! For shame!”

  “I don’t agree with it,” Jiang She said, affronted. “I was only telling you what’s being said!”

  Zhu Simo was already headlong into a rant against the vices of greed and how it would destroy the country if allowed to run rampant.

  Han Daizhi nodded along solemnly. That was the thing about Zhu Simo. He hadn’t even remembered Zhao Wenyuan’s debt as relevant until now, but if there was anything the man was good at, it was convincing people–especially himself. Han Daizhi withheld a smile that Zhu Simo would have taken as mockery. Let Zhi Simo think he’d always thought that Zhao Wenyuan’s debt was a problem. Why not? His conviction would make him all the more persuasive.

  In his office deep within the bowels of the Imperial Investigator Bureau, Li Que pored over a report, freshly in from Hebei province.

  Li Que frowned, rubbing a hand over his face. He leaned back in his seat, tapping the scroll against the desk in agitated thought.

  More murders.

  The last of Lin Yaoguang’s network–if these five men were even part of Lin Yaoguang’s network, had turned up dead. So far, all the murders had taken place in Hebei, yet the local Imperial Investigation Bureau was completely befuddled.

  Was this a result of criminal rivalries intensifying in the Hebei underworld? Or maybe something worse?

  Li Que’s instincts told him that it was the latter.

  For one, while the local authorities had assumed it was the work of a criminal group, the local Investigators thought differently. In the report, there had been tentative suggestions that all this was the work of a single man.

  A single person? It wasn’t impossible. Both incidents had taken place in enclosed spaces, where a skilled fighter could have used their agility to undercut the advantage of a much larger force.

  There it was–in the latter part of the extremely wordy report, buried in an ocean of boring and irrelevant details so that a superior skimming over the blurring characters would have missed it.

  Attack patterns highly similar to that of a trained Investigator.

  Li Que paused, read through the entire report again and noted the author this time.

  Yuan An, Li Que tried to recall where had heard that name before. Ah, yes, one of the newest Investigators in the Hebei branch, a man who had joined at the ripe age of thirty-five instead of as a twenty-year-old. The former Director of the Hebei branch had sworn up and down his entire family line that Yuan An was a worthwhile addition to the Bureau, to the point where there had been betting pools as to how much Yuan An paid to get in.

  But Li Que now pondered the report with growing trepidation.

  An Investigator might be behind this?

  It couldn’t be a current Investigator, whose movements were tracked. A former one then? Few former Investigators would be in good enough health to commit so many murders at this breakneck pace.

  Mulling it over, he went to consult his old friend Tabuyir.

  The Senior Investigator of Khitan descent was as infinitely reliable as he always was.

  “Well, there are a few possibilities,” Tabuyir said, not at all upset that it might actually be an Investigator. “It’s certainly not someone acting on the Duke’s orders, so we can eliminate that possibility.”

  “Thank the gods for that,” Li Que muttered.

  “Given the speed–and frankly, the mess–it’s probably a young hothead, but the level of skill suggests that it was one trained at central headquarters. That narrows it down somewhat. An Haoyang is skilled enough to do it,” Tabuyir said. “He was also trained as an Investigator. But from what I know, Xiang Daozong hasn’t left the capital since being reinstated, and An Haoyang tends to stick around his master. Then there’s…”

  Tabuyir frowned slightly, as if realizing the problem with what he was about to say.

  “What is it?” Li Que asked.

  “Sima Qi,” Tabuyir said. “Where did he go after leaving the capital?”

  Li Que’s stomach dropped as he remembered the young Investigator. A youngster with no family or connections, chosen as a poison-tester for the unlucky Grand Prince Kuang. Li Que had been the one to recommend Sima Qi.

  Sima Qi had nearly lost his head when Grand Prince Kuang was murdered, but had only been spared thanks to the amnesty passed during Yunqi’s coronation. Even so, Sima Qi couldn’t continue as an Investigator any longer, and had left the capital for good.

  “I don’t know,” Li Que said quietly.

  The dread in his voice must have shown, for Tabuyir immediately began worriedly patting his shoulder.

  “We don’t know for sure who it is,” Tabuyir assured Li Que. “It’s just a possibility. I’ve got a few more names as well, some kids who made it through training but got put on probation for bad behavior and then dropped out, that one man from Chang’an who got transferred out of the capital after a scandal and then was put on permanent leave, there’s a bunch of people who might be the culprit.”

  Which also wasn’t very assuring, but a great deal less personal.

  “I’ll make a list,” Tabuyir said. “You should also check in with the personnel department to see if I’ve missed anyone, but try to be subtle about it.”

  “Of course,” Li Que said. “Thank you. You’ve been of great help to me.”

  “Gladly,” Tabuyir replied.

  Li Que could only hope that it would be resolved. Quietly. If Li Que had his way, he would never have allowed it to get to this point. A serial killer was the last thing they needed on their hands right now, and if he let it fester any further, it would become a crisis in the volatile political climate. The Emperor’s closest advisor Qiu Jinwei was watching the Bureau in a way that rankled his nerves, and then there were the dozens of high-born and high-ranking officials who were practically frothing at the mouth due to the new reforms that could reduce their privileges.

  Add an unknown, blood-thirsty murderer to the mix. What kind of mess would they end up with?

  To make it worse, their Director had a way of resolving a crisis by creating a new crisis, or finding some other crisis to capitalize upon. That had worked fine during the turbulent times of the succession struggle between the princes during Emperor Xuanzong’s time, but what about in the new era, where the Emperor was trying to establish stability?

  Li Que frowned at the thought. A more opportunistic man would revel in a conflict between the Director of the Bureau and the Emperor who lorded over the Bureau, as it inevitably opened up positions for promotion. But like many others, Li Que hoped that he would never have to take sides.

  Cultural Notes

  太妃/Dowager Consorts: Traditionally, Dowager Consorts had one of three fates: to stay in the palace (usually if they were high-ranking or had children), to go to the Emperor's tomb (there was a small town of sorts around it), or to go to the temple and become a nun. Very few Emperors (such as Emperor Wen of Han) allowed his wives to go home.

  榷场/Border Markets: Refers to, as the name suggests, markets at the borders where people of different country were allowed to freely conudct trade. A practice that had existed informally for a very long time, but was institutionalized in the Song Dynasty.

  青苗法/Green Sprout Law: An extremely innovative agricultural loan program proposed by the Song Dynasty reformist Wang Anshi in which farmers were given low-interest loans in spring to be paid back after the harvest. However, the law failed because officials jacked up the interest rates and forced farmers to take loans. Kayla's version addresses this possibility thanks to Sun Ruhui.

  粉色全无饥色加，岂知人世有繁华。年年道我蝉辛苦，底事浑身着苎麻/A gaunt and hungry face without hints of pink, how could she know that luxury truly exists in this world? Each year she works to the bone caring for the silkworms, but is clad head to toe in rough cloth: A poem titled "蚕妇/Silkworm Woman" by the Tang Dynasty poet Du Xunhe, lamenting the wealth inequalities that provided luxuries and wealth to the upper classes while the producers remain mired in poverty.

  蕃舶场/Foreign Trade Quarters: Sun Ruhui's recommended name for Kayla's export economic zones. This would have been a much more familiar term/concept to people of the time.

  巧言令色/Sophistry: The term used for smooth-talkers who try to weasel their way out of trouble.

  留面子/Leave face: Basically to preserve someone's dignity or pride, to allow someone to preserve their dignity or pride.

  青出于蓝而胜于蓝/Azure emerges from blue but surpasses it: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning that the student surpasses the master or any similar variation thereupon.

  洛阳/Luoyang: The capital of the Wu Dynasty.

  狗急跳墙/Cornered dog jumps the wall: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning that someone pushed to their limits will show unexpected courage/strength.

  捧杀/Destroy [a person] by inflating their ego: A tactic in which someone is lured into committing an act that crosses the line through praise and flattery.

  抄家/Search and seizure: A punishment for serious crimes.

  泰山/Mount Tai: A mountain with cultural and religious significance, located in Shandong province. Holds symbolic importance for Emperors as well.

  长安/Chang'an: The capital of the Tang Dynasty, in this setting it is the Western capital (Luoyang and Chang'an were often known as the dual capitals in many dynasties).