A Clash at Court

That day, trouble broke out at morning court.

He Minzhong, Left Assistant Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate, stepped out of the ranks to submit a memorial impeaching Zhang Qian, Vice Minister of Revenue, for embezzling three thousand taels of autumn tax silver from Hejian Prefecture. Both witnesses and material evidence were complete-a minor treasury clerk in Hejian Prefecture had produced a receipt in Zhang Qian's own hand, and the private seal on it matched the seal impression on file at the Ministry of Revenue. He Minzhong was famous in the Censorate as an iron-faced censor. He never took sides or formed factions. His impeachments always rested on evidence; he never fired empty shots.

The entire hall fell silent.

Sun Jingtang stood at the head of the western ranks, his court tablet nearly slipping from his hand. Zhang Qian was a man he had personally promoted. He had managed the ministry's treasury silver for seven years, and his accounts had never been off by so much as a fraction. How incorruptible was he? Last year, when he received two bolts of silk for his elderly mother's birthday, he had reported them to the Censorate for the record the very next day. Sun Jingtang was the first to disbelieve that he had embezzled three thousand taels. But he did not step forward. There was no evidence to prove Zhang Qian innocent, while He Minzhong had a receipt.

Xiao Lin sat on the dragon throne and read the impeachment memorial from beginning to end. Then he asked, "Where is Zhang Qian?"

Zhang Qian was not in the hall. He had requested sick leave yesterday. He Minzhong said he had already sent men to summon him from his residence, and that he was now in the Censorate's prison-he had turned himself in. He said he confessed.

An uproar swept through the hall.

Sun Jingtang could finally bear it no longer. He stepped out and knelt.

"Zhang Qian has managed the treasury for seven years without a single error in his accounts. There must be something suspicious about this matter. I beg Your Majesty to investigate thoroughly."

He Minzhong turned to look at him and asked in an even tone.

"Minister Sun, Zhang Qian himself has confessed. The Censorate has checked the handwriting and seal impression on the receipt, and they match the ministry's records. With both witnesses and material evidence complete, what is suspicious about it?"

Sun Jingtang had no answer.

Standing in the rear ranks, Kong Wu had been watching Shen Boyong all along. Shen Boyong stood at the head of the civil officials and had not spoken a single word from beginning to end. He had neither pleaded for Zhang Qian nor urged His Majesty to convict him.

After court was dismissed, Xiao Lin kept Sun Jingtang behind alone in the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Sun Jingtang knelt the moment he entered the hall. He knelt on the golden bricks, his back ramrod straight.

"Your Majesty, I stake my head on it: Zhang Qian would never embezzle. This old servant has guided him for more than a dozen years. I know his character-he is not a man who would steal, unless someone forced him to confess."

"Rise and speak."

Sun Jingtang rose and took an account book from his sleeve. He had unearthed it overnight, before morning court today-it contained all the original records of autumn tax deposits from Hejian Prefecture for the past five years. He turned to the page for the eighth year of Jianxi and pointed to a line of figures.

"The date this shipment of tax silver entered the treasury does not match the sum in He Minzhong's impeachment. They are nearly three months apart. The receipt is dated the eighth month, but this silver did not actually enter the treasury until the eleventh month. In the eighth month, Hejian Prefecture's tax silver had not even left the county yamen. How could Zhang Qian have intercepted three thousand taels?"

"Unless the receipt was forged." Sun Jingtang's voice trembled. "But the seal impression is genuine. I do not understand-how could Zhang Qian's seal have fallen into someone else's hands?"

Xiao Lin did not answer. He closed the account book and returned it to Sun Jingtang, telling him not to investigate the receipt, but those who had handled the seal. Sun Jingtang asked no further questions. He bowed and withdrew.

After Sun Jingtang left, Xiao Lin sat before the imperial desk for a long time. Embezzlement by a vice minister of revenue sounded like a minor case. Three thousand taels amounted to no more than a sesame seed in the court's accounts. But this sesame seed was lodged at the point where autumn taxes entered the treasury. It struck at the Ministry of Revenue and implicated Sun Jingtang. Once Zhang Qian was convicted, Sun Jingtang could not escape the charge of failing to supervise his subordinates. If Sun Jingtang fell, the Ministry of Revenue would be in the Shen Clan's pocket.

Kong Wu emerged from behind the screen and placed the secret report he had just received on the imperial desk. It contained only one sentence-Zhang Qian's only son had been taken from the Imperial Academy yesterday afternoon by several unidentified men and had yet to return. Xiao Lin looked at the slip of paper and tapped a finger once on the desk. This was why he had confessed. He folded the note and put it in a drawer.

"Find that child."

Kong Wu accepted the order and withdrew.

Toward evening, Xiao Lin finally returned. Xiao Huaijin rose from beside the low table and showed him the characters he had written that day. Xiao Lin took the sheets and looked through them.

"Why did you write so little today?"

Xiao Huaijin did not answer that question. He tilted his head up and asked, "Father, is that Zhang Qian a good man?"

Xiao Lin looked at him in silence for a moment.

"Why do you ask?"

"I heard about what happened at court. I do not know Zhang Qian, but I know Minister Sun. Minister Sun is a good man. Someone Minister Sun trusts should be a good man too."

Xiao Lin sat down across from him at the low table. Once seated, his eyes were level with his son's.

"A ruler must not judge a person too readily. Good and bad are not distinguished that way."

"Then how are they distinguished?"

Xiao Lin looked into his eyes.

"By what he does. What a person does matters more than what he says."

After nightfall, candlelight flickered faintly in the side hall. Xiao Huaijin finished his last character and set down his brush, only to discover that his father had fallen asleep against the back of his chair at some point. Before, he had always fallen asleep first, with his father sitting beside him, watching him. Now it was the other way around-his father's brows were faintly furrowed, his jaw tightly set, and his fingers still held the shape of gripping a brush. He went to the couch, fetched his own little quilt, and spread it over his father. The quilt was too short; it covered his chest but not his knees. He went to pull over the blanket from the cushioned couch, folded it into two layers, and laid it over his father's legs. Then he brought a small stool beside the chair, rested his head on his father's lap, and slowly fell asleep.

Early the next morning, the matter took a turn.

Kong Wu found Zhang Qian's son in an alley behind the Imperial Academy. The child had been locked in the woodshed of a private home. He was unharmed, but badly frightened. Kong Wu brought him out and took him straight to a side courtyard of the Eastern Palace, leaving him temporarily in Zhou Rucheng's care. Then he returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation to report.

Meanwhile, Sun Jingtang had spent the night investigating the records of who had handled the seal. Three months earlier, an administrative officer at the Ministry of Revenue had borrowed Zhang Qian's private seal for half a day, saying he needed to stamp documents while checking old files. The officer who borrowed it was surnamed Cui-a younger male cousin of Cui Shen's clan. And the date on the receipt in He Minzhong's impeachment memorial happened to be the very day the seal had been borrowed.

Xiao Lin laid the two pieces of evidence on his desk and had Liu An convey his orders: Zhang Qian was cleared of embezzlement and restored to his post. He also sent word to He Minzhong-the Censorate incurred no guilt for impeaching embezzlement when the evidence was conclusive. But he added another line to the returned memorial: the handwriting on the receipt was not Zhang Qian's own, but an imitation. After receiving the returned memorial, He Minzhong sat in the Censorate's main hall for an entire morning. He had been used as a spear in impeaching Zhang Qian. He was not one of the Shen Clan's men, but Shen Boyong understood his temperament all too well-as long as the evidence was complete, He Minzhong would impeach, whoever the accused might be. Shen Boyong did not need to buy him off. He only needed to set the forged evidence before him.

That afternoon, He Minzhong submitted a memorial impeaching himself, admitting his failure to scrutinize the evidence and requesting the forfeiture of half a year's salary. Xiao Lin wrote two words in reply-"Request granted."

When Sun Jingtang heard at the Ministry of Revenue that Zhang Qian had been restored to his post, he stood in the main office hall for a long time. Then he sat down and personally drafted Administrative Officer Cui's transfer papers. Officer Cui was transferred to Lingnan, to depart that very day. Sun Jingtang rose and walked to the window. Outside lay the ministry's great courtyard, and the clacking of abacuses and the rustle of account-book pages drifted from the various offices.

When the news reached the Palace of Nurtured Elegance, Shen Mingzhu was fastening a new belt around Xiao Yu. As she listened to the palace maid finish recounting the events at court, her hands did not stop. She fastened the clasp, then straightened Xiao Yu's collar.

"Go and bring the red date and longan soup from the small kitchen."

After the maid answered and withdrew, she went alone to sit before her dressing table. The bronze mirror reflected her expressionless face.

She suddenly remembered the scene she had seen yesterday evening while passing the window of the side hall in the Hall of Mental Cultivation-Xiao Huaijin and Xiao Yu bent side by side over a low table, writing. At the corner of the table sat two tea cups, identical celadon, very close together. Her son's tea cup stood beside the crown prince's. She rose and walked to the rear window. Xiao Yu was feeding the rabbits in the back courtyard, still humming that same off-key tune. She leaned against the window frame and watched her son, and for the first time, she did not think about those affairs of court. Wait a little longer. At least until my son no longer needs me.