Northeast of the imperial city, across the canal, there was a place called Jiǔqū Fāng.
Jiǔqū Fāng, roughly two hundred and twenty li in length and width, was not part of the Gaǒjīng’s urban districts and grain ranks.
Instead, it was directly overseen by the Shaofǔ and belonged to the Imperial family’s private wooded gardens.
Jiǔqū Fāng was also known as Jiǔqū Yuàn.
Inside, there were strange mountains and exotic waters, with the main feature being a winding stream, the Jiǔqū Bright Creek.
Through generations of successive Dàyìn emperors’ expansions, Jiǔqū Yuàn now boasted nine grand palaces, one hundred and eight halls, nearly a thousand various pavilions and towers, and countless rare flowers and herbs.
Even in the depths of winter, exotic flowers still bloomed, spreading fragrance everywhere.
After the current Jiāyòu Emperor ascended the throne, Jiǔqū Yuàn gradually became home to all sorts of rare birds and beasts.
Later, due to certain events, Jiǔqū Yuàn acquired a new name among the people of Gaǒjīng.
Starting about ten years ago, common folk started calling it the “Beast Garden.” With the encouragement of many scholars, the name “Beast Garden” grew infamous.
Today’s Jiāyòu Emperor Yìn Yuán, disliking the imperial city, had for several years chosen to reside mostly in Jiǔqū Yuàn.
Even during this year’s New Year’s Eve palace banquet in the imperial city, Jiāyòu Emperor only showed up briefly, staying less than a quarter of an hour in the main hall before slipping away quietly and leaving all matters to the current Empress Dowager.
At the street corner, Bái Chāngkōng spat a small mouthful of blood.
Bloodshot-eyed and furious, he ignored the young guards and, accompanied by several old, wise friends, galloped wildly on horseback.
Following the eastern city wall for dozens of li, they finally arrived before the grand gates of Jiǔqū Yuàn.
A squad of Yǔlín Army soldiers stationed there stopped Bái Chāngkōng and his group.
Fifteen minutes later, the message requesting an audience with the emperor was relayed through several channels and finally delivered deep inside Jiǔqū Yuàn.
Beside a frozen lake, surrounded by emerald hills, several exquisite pavilions clustered around a towering grand hall.
Below the hall, several blazing fire dragons glowed red-hot, warming the interior so much it felt as mild as spring—almost even stifling.
The grand hall’s outer double doors, carved wooden gates, were opened wide.
Warm sunlight poured in through the inner gate, inlaid with large crystal panels, flooding the hall with bright light.
Inside the spacious, well-lit hall, rows of sandalwood shelves neatly lined the walls.
On these shelves sat cricket jars made from various materials, each containing hundreds of lively crickets whose piercing chirps blended into a loud clamor, nearly shaking the hall’s roof loose.
At the center of the hall, on a white carpet several zhang in length and width, Emperor Jiāyòu, dressed in a deep purple robe with long hair flowing down, lay prone on the floor.
His right hand held a blade of grass, carefully teasing a large golden-headed, silver-backed cricket inside one of the jars before him.
“My golden general cricket... Just a little fight left in you. Come on, come on! That old fish Yú Chánglè has already won eighteen battles in a row. This one, you absolutely can’t lose. Can’t lose!”
Emperor Jiāyòu Yìn Yuán, of royal bloodline, was tall and powerful, with a dignified, square face full of grandeur, sharp sword-like brows, and bright eyes full of spirit.
Handsome, by any standard, he was truly worthy of being the emperor.
Yet, disheveled with his hair loose and robe rumpled, his slightly sunken eyes shadowed with black circles, two large dark bags beneath them and blue lips, along with sagging cheeks, made him look tired and listless.
He gave off the impression of a “drunken and lustful” ineffective ruler.
Opposite him sat the “old fish” Yú Chánglè, head resting against the emperor’s, also teasing a red-headed, copper-bodied cricket inside another jar with a blade of grass.
Yú Chánglè was a first-rank palace attendant of the Dàyìn imperial court, overseeing the palace’s twenty-four departments, commander of the palace guard, also responsible for the Shaofǔ.
He was the emperor’s number one trusted minister who had served by His Majesty’s side since Yìn Yuán was a suckling baby.
Wearing a deep purple robe embroidered with a large, snarling blood-red one-horned mantis on the chest, Yú Chánglè stood over eight feet tall, with a waist nearly as large, his white hair, pale white face, clean-shaven, his round face radiant with a smile of complete harmlessness.
Though he never used makeup, his natural pallid face made his lips look as red as freshly spilled blood.
Because of these looks, the entire Dàyìn court’s scholar-officials rumored—“Yú Chánglè feeds on the hearts of infants, needing three a day, which causes blood to rush upward, dyeing his lips blood red!”
Others said, “To maintain his youth and longevity, Yú Chánglè replaces his tea with fresh virgin’s blood daily, keeping his skin smooth and supple.”
Still more whispered, “Yú Chánglè is a fake eunuch—every time the palace recruits new maidens, he personally selects them. Skilled in yin-supplementing-yang dark arts, that’s why, nearing sixty, he’s still sharp as ever.”
Thanks to these rumors, Yú Chánglè’s reputation in Dàyìn was like that of a hellish demon—but curiously, he quieted the cries of children in the dead of night.
Amidst the shrill cricket chirping, Yú Chánglè’s red-headed cricket bit down directly on Jiāyòu Emperor’s golden general cricket.
After a moment of tense standoff, followed by a shriek, the golden general cricket’s large leg was bitten off.
The red-headed cricket shook its head and flung the golden general cricket from the jar.
Yú Chánglè clapped loudly and laughed, “Ah ha, what do you say, Your Majesty? Old servant’s luck was good—please accept one hundred strings of cash as tribute, hee hee!”
The emperor sighed deeply, tossing aside the blade of grass and carefully cupping the cricket with the broken leg.
“Ah, my golden general cricket... you really... such is the old saying: ‘A trained army for a thousand days is used for a moment.’ You’ve really wasted all the provisions for nothing.”
“But if you can’t fight well, how can I claim benevolence?”
“Someone, take the golden general cricket downstairs and care properly, to keep it until the end of its days.”
Two eunuchs in red robes stepped quietly forward, taking the golden general cricket from the emperor, placing it gently into an elaborately gilded and jade-inlaid cricket jar, then carefully setting it back on a nearby wooden shelf.
The emperor, disregarding his dignity, lay down exactly where he was, sprawling on his back, staring up at the intricately carved ceiling beams.
“Ah, Old Fish, this debt stays between us for now. Times are tight lately—you know. After the first month, we have to find a way to rake in more money.”
Yú Chánglè sat cross-legged beside the emperor, speaking softly: “Your Majesty, rest assured. Old servant keeps track clearly, not a single coin will be lost.”
The emperor shot Yú Chánglè a sidelong glance, letting out a heavy snort, “Old coot!”
Rolling his eyes, Jiāyòu Emperor tapped his leg impatiently, “Hey, what’s new in the market these days?”
Yú Chánglè squinted and smiled behind his hand, “How can there be new news every day? Same as always—the country peaceful, people content, favorable winds and timely rains. The court full of gentlemen, working for the nation and people, so the common folk live and work in peace. Nothing ever happens!”
The emperor turned his head sharply and spat heavily on the carpet.
“Gentlemen? Bah!”
“That bunch of fools!”
“Only because the generations of martial heroes keep deteriorating. If they had half a spine, would that lot of literary hypocrites ever rise to power?”
Shaking his head, the emperor suddenly sat upright and crossed his legs to face Yú Chánglè.
“What about that matter before the New Year? Any progress in the investigation?”
The atmosphere in the hall suddenly darkened.
The emperor lowered his voice, glancing around stealthily at Yú Chánglè.
“That prefect Hè Jūn from Ānlè District said it was ghosts causing trouble. Do you believe in ghosts?”
Yú Chánglè’s playful smile vanished; he looked serious for once, his tone low: “Your Majesty, old servant isn’t afraid of ghosts causing trouble. What’s scary is if the troublemakers aren’t ghosts at all.”
The emperor’s eyes darkened as he stared into Yú Chánglè’s.
The two locked eyes for a long while.
Then the emperor turned his head to look out through the crystal window at the frozen lake beyond the great hall’s main doors.
“I’ve read the secret histories. They say there really are ghosts in the world.”
He murmured, “But all hearsay. After so many years, who’s ever truly seen a ghost with their own eyes?”
“Let alone a beautiful female ghost.”
“I’d really like to see one for myself—to know what these ghosts truly look like.”
“Old Fish, you’re right. Those ghosts aren’t nearly as terrifying as people say.”
“The news must be sealed tight. Absolutely no leaks.”
He spoke softly: “Our names already stink enough. If word got out that Gaǒjīng was haunted by ghosts, ha ha, people would say the emperor is lost in virtue, trusting treacherous men, bringing ruin upon the state and misery upon the people.”
“I am that lost-virtue ruler.”
“You are that trusted traitor.”
“As a foolish ruler, what do I fear?”
“Who can do anything to me?”
“Who dares to do anything to me?”
“Swap in another emperor, and they might not be any better.”
“But as a traitor, Old Fish, you could very well be the one to get sliced to bits someday!”
The emperor patted Yú Chánglè’s plump, soft shoulder lightly.
The big rolls of flesh trembled slightly, while Yú Chánglè’s round white face took on a cold, forlorn look—as if ripped apart by hundreds of mad dogs.
At that moment, a palace eunuch entered the hall silently, a faint breeze accompanying him.
“Your Majesty, Bái Chāngkōng from Guózǐjiàn requests an audience.”
Yú Chánglè narrowed his eyes, a chilling aura spreading invisibly as he rose quietly, his face darkening toward the eunuch.
The emperor was momentarily stunned, then looked at the eunuch and sneered, “Bái Chāngkōng? That sanctimonious old bastard. We hardly have dealings—maybe less than thirty times over the years. During the New Year, why is he here? No need to say more. It’s like a weasel paying New Year’s greetings to a chicken—no good intentions.”
He blinked and waved his sleeve: “Tell him I was ‘riding’ the candlelight with Consort Qí last night. Little Rǎn caught a chill and is resting. If he has business, tell him to find the Empress Dowager. No noisy visits here!”
Yú Chánglè coughed, “Your Majesty, it’s ‘bǐng’ the candlelight, not ‘chéng’…”
The emperor sneered, “Call it whatever you want. That’s the original phrase—tell Bái Chāngkōng exactly as is. Deputy Principal of Guózǐjiàn? Pah! I’m just unlearned. If he’s so capable, why doesn’t he get me to ‘study harder’?”
Jiāyòu Emperor chuckled deeply.
Yú Chánglè and the surrounding eunuchs all smiled mysteriously.
Quarter of an hour later, Yú Chánglè received all relevant records about Lú Qīng.
After a detailed read, he chuckled, “Ah ha, a promising lad. Able to make Bái Chāngkōng cough up blood? A talent indeed—we must cultivate him well!”
“The nephew of the Marquis of Heavenly Grace. His grandfather once was a Yǔlín Middle Commander?”
“That’s a thoroughly official family connection.”
“Yet Bái Chāngkōng seems excessively agitated over this matter? Investigate—by any means necessary, thoroughly investigate.”
“This marriage matter reeks of sinister winds and evil qi. There must be unspeakable dealings involved. We must find out!”
While Yú Chánglè studied Lú Qīng’s files, Bái Chāngkōng heard back from the eunuch.
He remained silent for a long time before bursting out in a hysterical roar:
“Foolish ruler! Foolish ruler! A foolish ruler like this Dàyìn emperor will bring ruin—it’s the end, the end!”
“Yú Chánglè, traitor, traitor! If Dàyìn falls, you will be the chief culprit!”
“Yú Chánglè, how dare you mislead the youth, pressuring virtuous families into your eunuch faction, becoming your minions?”
“I, Bái Chāngkōng, will never make peace with you eunuch faction!”
“My anger boils over, truly it does! That Lú Qīng has fallen willingly—yet I, Bái Chāngkōng, gave nothing but sincere goodwill, heartfelt loyalty. The brotherly bond between me and Lú Qīng’s eldest has lasted decades. This loyalty! This heartfelt friendship!”
With a ‘pfft’ sound, Bái Chāngkōng spat three feet of blood.
He screamed and charged headfirst at the great gate arch of Jiǔqū Yuàn, hitting it hard with a ‘crack,’ his head bleeding, eyes rolling back as he fainted.
Several respected gentlemen cried out together, cursing “foolish ruler” and “traitor,” hurriedly lifting Bái Chāngkōng and retreating!
By evening, throughout Gaǒjīng’s city and suburbs, in brothels and taverns and other lively places, countless scholar-officials openly appeared, loudly denouncing “the traitorous Yú Chánglè who ruins the country,” using power and threats to coerce virtuous youths into the eunuch faction, shamelessly humiliating the “pillars of our nation” with despicable methods.
The Bái family publicly proclaimed they were ashamed to stand with the eunuch faction and that since Lú Qīng had fallen willingly, the marriage contract between their daughter Bái Lù and Lú Qīng was officially annulled.
Bái Lù would now choose a fine match from Gaǒjīng and be wed immediately!
Our great Dàyìn is going to fall!
Doesn’t this all feel oddly familiar?
Also, I think Bái Chāngkōng’s few last words before smashing into the gate were quite striking.
That kind of ‘loyalty and righteousness!’
Loyal and righteous Bái Chāngkōng!
(End of Chapter)