Spring, the second month, Xiqi.
Inside the Marquis of the West's Mansion.
Though Ji Fa had assumed the title of Son of Heaven in his father's stead, he had built no new palace, continuing to use the original Marquis of the West's Mansion as his seat of government.
Frugal, thrifty Zhou and extravagant, decadent Shang governed in two utterly opposite ways.
Diligence in government was only to be expected. Ever since proclaiming himself Son of Heaven, Ji Fa had poured out his heart's blood and laid bare his liver and gall, laboring over affairs of state day and night and sleeping only four hours a day.
He not only had to read the memorials but carefully annotate them as well. The words he wrote each day just to review memorials exceeded eight thousand-an even more diligent output than a novelist's updates.
With dark circles under his eyes, Ji Fa worked through memorials by lamplight.
Ji Dan, who handled confidential matters, suddenly entered the mansion and reported, "Elder Brother, our spies in Chaoge have sent word. King Zhou and Father warmed wine and discussed heroes in a torrential downpour. The rain ruined King Zhou's health, leaving him gravely ill. All Great Shang's affairs of state are now being handled by its civil and military officials."
"When have Great Shang's affairs of state ever not been handled by its civil and military officials?"
Weariness written across his face, Ji Fa asked again, "Why warm wine in a torrential downpour? Have they lost their minds? Since King Zhou is ill, how is Father's health?"
"Father..." Ji Dan paused before continuing, "King Zhou has already ordered Father's release so he can return to Xiqi, but Father caught a chill after warming wine that day. His health has been poor, and he still hasn't been