"How can a mere boy bear the envoy's staff?!"
From the Ministry of Rites ranks, Qin Yan hurried forward, his voice trembling. In a few strides, he reached the foot of the Vermilion Steps and stood beside his disciple.
"You... when did you volunteer?!
Must I, your teacher, wait until we stand in the Golden Hall to be the last to know?!"
Wei Shouzheng remained prostrate. "Teacher... your disciple knows he was wrong."
"Wrong? Do you know what wrong you have committed?!
To bear the staff beyond the frontier is to face nine deaths for one chance at life!
Tangut blades are not the pens of the Capital!"
After this low-voiced reprimand, Qin Yan turned toward the Imperial Throne, lifted his robes, and knelt. His white-haired, white-bearded figure looked frail in the great hall.
"Your Majesty! I ask to go in my disciple's place!"
"I served in the Four Barbarians Residence for thirty years, as envoy to Khitan, to Annam, to Tubo!
I am accustomed to such perilous roads!" Qin Yan enunciated every word.
"Wei Shouzheng has held office for only a few years. How can he withstand the wind and frost of a tiger's den?
A teacher imparts the Way and passes on his learning.
How can a teacher watch his disciple venture into danger alone?!
If anything happens to my disciple, to whom am I to pass on a lifetime of learning?!"
Qin Yan had barely finished speaking when...
A rush of footsteps came from outside the hall, mixed with other officials' attempts to stop someone:
"Director Wei! Director Wei, you mustn't! You have not been summoned..."
"Out of my way!!" came a hoarse shout.
At the entrance, a minor official in a scarlet robe shook off a junior clerk's hand and stumbled into the hall. He threw