On the thirtieth of the sixth month, the heat rose like steam, and the cicadas clamored deafeningly.
All four windows of the duty hall in the Hall of Literary Depths stood open, official papers mingling with the drifting steam of tea.
The urgent dispatch from Ningxia lay in the center, flanked on the left by the record of the defeat at Peng Ding and on the right by Zhou Quan's record of military achievements.
Black ink on white paper, each supported a different position, like three pieces of evidence laid before a single tribunal.
The defeat was real. So were the achievements.
"Gentlemen, the Ningxia Command Change is today's subject."
Seated at the eastern end, Shen Duan raised his eyes. His purple robe and jade belt gleamed, but his voice was quiet.
"As Chief Minister of the Grand Secretariat, I shall speak first!"
"Zhou Quan may be employed, but he must not be appointed."
Song Yue's hand paused around his tea cup, and he immediately countered:
"Chancellor Shen, I do not understand. He may be employed but not appointed? What reasoning is this?"
"He may be employed for his military talent. He must not be appointed because of the circumstances." Shen Duan pushed the record of military achievements back to the center of the table.
"Zhou Quan lost his marquisate fifteen years ago and has spent all these years brooding.
A man who has bottled up his frustrations for fifteen years, suddenly given his chance...
Heh. What do you gentlemen think he will do?"
He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over the other three men in the hall.
"The warning left by the defeat at Peng Ding is still before our eyes.
Why did Peng Ding lose? Greed for glory and reckless advances!
After years of frustration, the commander