Chapter Fifty-Eight: Seeking Affairs at the Duke's Mansion — Parting at the Wei River (Part Two)

When Master Kuiji was invited to preside over the Buddhist ceremony, Hu Ying, Liang Jinzhu, Zou Fengchi, and several other merchants were utterly astonished.

Though Zou Fengchi was wealthy and liked to show off before Li Zhi, even if he poured out mountains of gold and silver, it was unlikely he could persuade Master Kuiji to attend. Hu Ying quickly realized that it wasn’t that the great master favored them, but rather that the Crown Prince must have played a part behind the scenes to bring such a revered monk to the event.

Not daring to be negligent, the group discussed the matter and decided to cede the title of host, making Master Kuiji the official sponsor of the charity ceremony, with themselves merely assisting at the side. The venue was also changed to the square in front of Daci’en Temple.

The news spread rapidly and caused a sensation. Many devout Buddhist followers, who had long heard of Master Kuiji, flocked from all directions, eager for a glimpse of the eminent monk’s presence.

Because rumors suggested the Crown Prince was involved, the event also drew many merchants.

Wealth has its advantages, but can it purchase a single greeting from the Crown Prince? Can it buy a tear wiped away by him? Looking at Liang Jinzhu, for instance: though he was affluent, he wasn't among the wealthiest in Chang’an, yet for donating just three thousand strings of cash, he had been received by the Crown Prince. Now, aside from high-ranking officials, even the lower-ranking bureaucrats treated him with respect.

Zou Fengchi felt it was unfair and lamented that, had he known, he would have donated ten thousand strings and claimed that honor for himself.

Another rumor soon followed: on the day of the ceremony, the Crown Prince would attend in person despite his illness, which caused an even greater stir. Even before the date was set, over twenty thousand strings of cash had been raised for front-row seats alone.

Upon hearing this, Li Wei was perplexed and asked Liu Qun, “Who said I would personally attend?”

Liu Qun shook his head.

Li Wei continued, “So just one bow from me garners three thousand strings of donations?”

“It’s even more than that,” Bie'er replied with a laugh.

“Then let me offer ten thousand bows!”

Ten thousand bows would mean thirty million strings of cash—an instant solution to the Tang dynasty’s crisis!

But this made both Bie'er and Liu Qun choke with laughter—things, of course, were not so simple.

Naturally, this was just idle talk. Even if a hundred thousand or a million strings of donations were raised, Li Wei would not attend the ceremony. He was more than willing to save the disaster-stricken, but he needed to preserve his own life. Feigning illness was not only to deal with Helan Minzhi; it was, above all, to avoid the Great Rain Sacrifice. His reputation was already high enough; any further fame would be dangerous.

...

While the grand ceremony caused much commotion, another matter was stirring as well.

The court had yet to punish Helan Minzhi.

The people were growing ever more discontent. Di Renjie could see many sides to the issue, but the common folk were not fools either and had their own opinions. Couldn’t they see what benefit a benevolent heir apparent would bring them and their children when he ascended the throne?

Thus, resentment brewed.

Rumors abounded, some directly implicating Empress Wu herself, claiming she disregarded her son’s feelings in order to protect Helan Minzhi. New versions of the story surfaced, alleging that because of the previous Crown Prince Li Zhong, as well as the two princesses, the Empress had grown disillusioned and dissatisfied with her son. Therefore, she turned a blind eye to Helan Minzhi’s attempt on the Crown Prince’s life and refused to deal with it...

Was it the mother protecting Helan Minzhi?

Li Wei could only shake his head. If he didn’t know some of the inside story, he might have thought the same. Yet this was not necessarily a bad thing; if his mother heard these rumors, how would she respond?

...

Even the court officials were at a loss for words.

Tang politics was not so dark. In those days, even elders, upon seeing the emperor, would boldly salute and then sit down to converse. If they were dissatisfied, poets would air their grievances in verse—such things were common.

If people dared to voice complaints about the imperial family, it was even more so with the ministers responsible. Every kind of remark was circulating.

Yet as for the ministers, several memorials had been sent to Luoyang, but it was as if stones had been cast into the sea, without even a ripple. How to proceed? They could hardly sweep the matter under the rug—the case had reached the heavens, and even the lightest punishment would be to strip Helan Minzhi of his title and office and use his subordinates as scapegoats.

But there hadn’t been a single reply—how could anyone guess Luoyang’s intent?

The people’s dissatisfaction grew, and even the Crown Prince’s guards were resentful. A punishment would at least relieve some of the bitterness. Was the matter really to be left unresolved?

Night fell. Though there was unrest in Chang’an, the city’s splendor remained.

Many households lit red lanterns at their doors; taverns rang with boisterous laughter, and the music of strings and flutes from the brothels was sweet and melodious.

Xu Yue and Guard Xie gathered a dozen or so close friends among the Imperial Guards. Their ranks were not high, but they were of like mind and went together to a tavern.

Listening to the singing girls, after rounds of wine and dishes, their spirits were high.

Xu Yue said, “I can’t let this go.”

The others fell silent. Xu Yue had every right to be aggrieved—he had nearly given his life, yet the court had not only failed to punish Helan Minzhi, but no reward had been given for their service.

This was not just Xu Yue’s frustration; all the Imperial Guards who protected the Crown Prince felt the same. As soldiers, they were among the most honored in the Tang dynasty. They were not arrogant, but usually full of pride. This time, four of their comrades had been killed by Helan Minzhi’s men, and the court hadn’t made a sound. Rumors spread among the people that they had failed to protect the Crown Prince, and questions were raised about how the Crown Prince treated them. The campaign in Liaodong had nothing to do with the Imperial Guards, but on this occasion, the Crown Prince had genuinely opened up his stores so they could all eat their fill.

Yet each of them had become a turtle, hiding in their shells.

They felt too ashamed to lift their heads in public.

After hearing this, they all gulped down their wine in frustration.

Xu Yue went on, “The Crown Prince is a good man. He lives frugally; even his closest attendant, Jiang Bie'er, barely has a decent garment. Yet when the court’s reward failed to come, he took four hundred bolts of silk and two hundred strings of cash from his own funds to reward the families of the fallen. Though not in good health, he gave us the ginseng the Emperor had bestowed to help us recover. Your Highness, how could I ever deserve such kindness from you?”

At this, his eyes brimmed with tears, and he wept aloud.

The group was already brooding and angry, and with the wine emboldening them, Xu Yue’s tears only stoked their frustration.

A guard shouted, “Captain Xu, are you a man or not? The humiliation of our lord is our own. I may not be as great as Lin Xiangru, but I have my life to give. Stop crying like a woman! Let’s storm Wu Minzhi’s mansion and demand justice for the Crown Prince!”

Several guards immediately stood up in agreement.

The wine had gone to their heads! They cared nothing for the consequences—even though many had already been arrested at Wu Minzhi’s mansion, they would be like dumplings thrown to a dog, never to return. But to strike at a Duke’s residence, even if they killed, the court could say nothing.

Guard Xie quickly stopped them. “Don’t be rash. It’s not so simple. Lord Dai and the others are all Crown Prince’s men, yet nothing has been done.”

Another guard, his tongue thick with drink, muttered, “They’re women too.”

“Perhaps, but we still need a proper plan.”

“You’re a woman too.”

“I’m no woman! Didn’t I risk my life that day?” Guard Xie was seething as well. The capital was saying the Imperial Guards were useless. But in such peaceful times, even a prime minister could attend court with hardly an escort. Who would have thought someone would dare attempt the Crown Prince’s life?

Besides, on that day, to ensure the Crown Prince’s safety, they had truly done all they could.

But they were close friends and didn’t want anyone to get hurt, so he slammed the table, sending the dishes flying. “Captain Xu, you’re a woman, weeping like that. The rest of you, you’re just brutes. If you want to vent your anger for the Crown Prince, is there really no better way?”

A guard glared at him. “Then tell us—what’s your idea?”

“I just thought of one. The Crown Prince and Duke Zhou’s family are out of our league. But what about their servants? They’re guilty too—they obeyed Wu Minzhi, kidnapped the Crown Princess, and tried to assassinate the Crown Prince.”

“I get it!” another guard’s eyes lit up.

They couldn’t take on Wu Minzhi, but as Imperial Guards, most came from good families. Offending Wu Minzhi was dangerous, but taking it out on his servants? Why not? Besides, it was all for the Crown Prince. Even if the Emperor and Empress heard of it, what could they say? This was loyalty, this was devotion!

Xu Yue straightened up and looked at the two singing girls. “You may leave now.”

He didn’t need to say it twice—the girls, frightened, were already eager to go.

The group lowered their heads and began whispering amongst themselves.

The Tang dynasty prized martial valor over letters; there were many knights-errant but also many ruffians. Once, a bandit impersonated Emperor Yizong and visited Da’an Temple incognito, brazenly making off with a thousand bolts of the finest silk and escaping unscathed.

These men came from good families; in armor, they were soldiers, but without it, they were playboys. They knew every trick—setups, honey traps, scams—maybe not by those names, but the schemes were the same. They hatched a plan together.

The more they spoke, the more excited they became, ending with a round of sly laughter.

Guard Xie added, “But brothers, we still lack numbers. If we gather all our comrades from the barracks, we’ll have even more strength.”

“Yes, sir!”

“The sooner, the better. Let’s each go and bring in our friends and brothers to meet here.”

“Yes, sir!”

With that, they paid the bill and dispersed. But soon they returned, each having brought along dozens or at least a handful of others. After hearing what was proposed, more went out to recruit even more. Like a snowball rolling, within an hour, the tavern was packed with their people—hundreds, perhaps even a thousand.

Seeing this, the tavern’s young proprietor’s legs turned to jelly in terror, unsure what disaster was brewing or if he should call the authorities.

PS: Several chapters’ drafts were ruthlessly deleted. But the chapters written today, especially those to be updated tomorrow morning, feel much better. Sweat—I must be like a Six Meridian Divine Sword, sometimes working, sometimes not. Three chapters delivered, it was a real effort. Please support with recommendations and collections!