Wu Junji had only recently entered the imperial palace then. He understood nothing, and his frail body could not fill out his sumptuous clothes, like brocade wrapped around skin and bones.
Bewildered, he was pushed into the middle of the banquet to receive everyone's toasts. He knew none of the men or women there; the only person he recognized was the emperor seated on high.
But clearly, the emperor had no intention of helping him.
Beads clattered to the floor, and a sixth-rank official cried out, "Your Highness, why were you touching my brocade pouch?"
"These silver beads were bestowed by His Majesty! Oh, dear, they've all spilled!"
The people around them jeered:
"Eldest Brother, even if you wanted silver, you shouldn't steal."
"How careless of you, Eldest Brother. Those were bestowed by Father."
Every cry of "Eldest Brother" brimmed with gloating.
The sixth-rank official who had framed him knelt beside his legs and wailed, "If an imperially bestowed item goes missing, my whole family will be beheaded!"
Wu Junji was dizzy from drinking. He was certain he had not touched the man's pouch, but everyone claimed to have seen him do it. In the end, even Wu Junji no longer knew whether he had touched it.
The emperor above gave an order.
"Whoever spilled them will pick them up."
Every gaze turned toward Wu Junji.
So Wu Junji crouched at everyone's feet and picked them up one by one. Sometimes someone stepped on his hand; sometimes someone shoved him. He landed on his backside, drawing laughter from the crowd.
Where people stood too closely together, he could not reach the beads, and they would not make room. So he knelt, stretching out his hand and groping desperately, his face squeezed out of shape against leg after leg.
A bend of their knees was enough to knock his face away.
If he accidentally touched a woman's foot, she would click her tongue in disgust. He apologized quietly. The kinder ones moved away as though avoiding a plague god; from the less kindly ones, he took a few kicks.
His ill-fitting clothes grew dirty, and so did his hands. Gradually, his face became dirty too, and his topknot came loose. He became a beggar again.
A beggar who held the status of an imperial prince, kneeling in the court to beg for scraps.
He found only ninety-nine Silver Beans, but the sixth-rank official insisted there had been a hundred.
No matter what he did, he could not produce the hundredth.
Everyone urged him on and shoved him, claiming he had pocketed it. Perhaps it was in his shoe, his clothes, or his mouth.
They wanted to strip him naked and inspect his mouth and tongue, as though choosing livestock.
Wu Junji no longer knew what shame or humiliation meant.
His knees had bowed before the feudal order; beneath its hierarchy, his dignity counted for nothing.
Perhaps the emperor seated high above had enjoyed enough of his abasement. At last, he deigned to end the game.
"The hundredth is here with me, Wu Junji."
As the name Wu Junji came crashing down, Emperor Zhou jolted awake.
He pressed a hand to his heart and gasped for breath. An inexplicable knot of anguish lodged in his chest, and no amount of panting could expel it.
Consort Xiao leaned over from the inner side of the bed. The curtains were drawn aside, and the night-duty maid brought a Glazed Glass Lamp to light every candle stand on either side of the Canopy Bed, revealing the emperor's forehead drenched in cold sweat.
Consort Xiao tenderly wiped the sweat from Emperor Zhou's forehead.
"Did Your Majesty have a nightmare?"
"Once you tell a nightmare aloud, it becomes nothing but a falsehood."
Emperor Zhou turned onto his side and leaned against the headboard, his brows tightly knitted as he recalled that absurd dream.
Silver Beans, and a boy as scrawny as a dog, crawling on the floor and shuffling on his knees to pick them up one by one.
He had smiled throughout. He smiled when others falsely accused him, smiled when they stepped on him, smiled when they made him crawl between their legs. His hair was disheveled, his clothes filthy, his hands bleeding, yet he still smiled.
Like an ailing Guanyin upon a lofty dais, his smile was his sole charity to the world.
The others stood, yet looked like dogs. He crawled, yet resembled a martyr bowing before the Buddha's altar.
He finished collecting them and offered them up. One was missing.
The others wanted to strip his clothes and inspect his teeth, so he undressed piece by piece. He stared at everyone present, as though determined to remember their faces forever. Still he smiled-a scaffold smile that only someone about to die could comprehend.
In that instant, Emperor Zhou realized, as though feeling it himself-this boy would make rivers of blood flow through the imperial court.
Once he pulled free of the dream's emotions, Emperor Zhou could only think that his dream-self was sick in the head.
Wu Junji.
He could not believe that the person in his dream who knelt, crawled, passed between others' legs, was trampled, despised, shoved, and humiliated was named Wu Junji.
Wu Junji-that was Wu Junji?
An emperor's dreams were no ordinary things. It could well have been an unresolved knot binding a past life to this one.
Yet the dream was so absurd that Emperor Zhou laughed. He seized the bewildered Consort Xiao, the muscles at the corners of his mouth bunching into a strained smile of restraint.
"Wu Junji..."
He asked in a coaxing tone, "Tell me, who is Wu Junji? Well?!"
Frightened by Emperor Zhou's condition, Consort Xiao spoke with tears in her voice:
"Your Majesty, please don't frighten me. That is the Crown Prince's name."
Emperor Zhou nodded repeatedly. "Yes! Correct! He is the Crown Prince of my Great Zhou!"
He grew more agitated with every word.
By those final words, he seemed ready to shout the heavens apart!
He overturned the dressing table beside the bed.
He roared and screamed wildly.
"Aaaah-!"
"Ah!"
Everyone in the Yuxun Palace knelt on the floor, trembling.
Consort Xiao was panic-stricken and did not dare approach.
"Please calm your anger, Your Majesty!"
Eunuch Deli heard the commotion and hurried over from the side room.
"Your Majesty, what happened?"
Emperor Zhou's gaze shot toward Qian Deli like a blade, murderous intent bursting forth. Qian Deli's legs weakened, and he dropped to his knees with a thud.
Emperor Zhou thought for a moment. The man did not seem to have been in the dream. He snorted coldly, draped on an outer robe, and put on his shoes himself, balancing on one leg like a golden rooster. Then he headed out, disheveled, like an old man out for a stroll.
Qian Deli hurriedly scrambled up and followed.
Consort Xiao's heart sank. It's over. Who knows what His Majesty dreamed? He's having a fit!
Emperor Zhou's legs moved so fast they left afterimages. Eunuch Deli jogged behind him with a fur-lined coat.
"Your Majesty! The night is cold and the dew heavy. Please don't catch a chill, Your Majesty!"
The servants guarding the Taiji Palace saw a lion approaching from afar, its mane bristling, poised to kill anyone in its path. Terrified, they opened the doors, then knelt and kowtowed.
Emperor Zhou swept in like a storm, clearly not himself. The servants dared not announce him; they could only kneel in welcome or follow.
The final door opened.
Sandalwood Incense drifted slowly through the air, and hastily lit lamps illuminated the dragon bed.
Emperor Zhou approached step by step. Eunuch Deli had no idea what had happened and feared His Majesty might snap and strangle the Crown Prince.
Deli's legs shook. He seemed to be supporting Emperor Zhou, but was actually trying to hold him back as well.
"Your Majesty, the little Crown Prince is fast asleep. Why don't we come see him tomorrow in daylight?"
Emperor Zhou shook him off, strode forward, and parted the bed curtains. Qian Deli flung himself at him and clung to his thigh.
"Your Majesty, you mustn't! Your Majesty!"
If Emperor Zhou killed the Crown Prince, what an enormous scandal that would be! Not a single life in the Taiji Palace or the Yuxun Palace would be safe!
The child on the bed lay nestled among heaps of silk, surrounded by glittering Silver Beans. He slept sweetly with a whole bedful of Silver Beans beneath his head.
Emperor Zhou, meanwhile, had developed a condition that sent him into a frenzy at the sight of Silver Beans. He caught the little Crown Prince beneath the armpits, hoisted this sleeping cat into the air, and shook him wildly.
"Don't sleep! Wake up! Open your eyes and look at who I am!"
An earthquake struck Wu Junji's dream.
He was so sleepy he could only open his eyes a crack, and he was supposed to look at who this was?
The kitten, stretched absurdly long, yowled in irritation, kicking and flailing. A rapid volley of slaps crackled out, and the whole world fell quiet.
"Old fart... get lost."
Wu Junji mumbled incoherently, let his head loll, and slept until heaven and earth went dark, oblivious to life or death.
Emperor Zhou's face remained turned sideways from the blows. All at once, he felt peaceful and pleased.
Look at that temper. He dares slap my face! And curse at me! He certainly isn't the Wu Junji from the dream.
They must simply share a name.
He hefted the little one in his arms again.
He's thin. Fatten him up.
The Wu Junji in the dream was so thin his bones dug into my hands. How could he possibly be my Crown Prince?
My Crown Prince will grow into a little chubby boy.
The Wu Junji in the dream was sickly, all skin and brittle bones. How could he possibly be my Crown Prince!
My Crown Prince will grow up healthy and strong, skilled in letters and arms!
My Crown Prince is magnificent and noble, born of the imperial bloodline, beneath one man and above ten thousand. Commoners and high officials alike will bow before him. If the Crown Prince stands, they cannot sit! If the Crown Prince kneels, they must lie prostrate!
Emperor Zhou hugged his son tight. Two protesting whimpers reached his ears, then all was quiet.
This little one loved cleanliness. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and took fragrant baths every day. He still ate milk-based foods, and his whole body smelled of milk and Sandalwood Incense.
Emperor Zhou ordered every last one of the Crown Prince's Silver Beans put away and replaced with Little Goldfish and Little Gold Cats. Even if he wanted golden shit, Emperor Zhou would have it carved for him-anything but beans!
Having finished his fit, the emperor recovered. He lay back on the dragon bed with his son in his arms, his voice calm and his expression serene.
"Put out the lights. I am going to sleep."
Qian Deli had a hard life. "...As Your Majesty commands."
Before you continue