Chapter 17

Once Wei Tong resolved to do something, he did it properly. Before, he had held back only for fear of flushing the snake from the grass. But now Zhang Jiu’s life had already been spent. He knew it couldn’t be long before someone from Liu Cheng’s side came looking for him again.

After all, Zhang Jiu had come to him before he died.

Carrying that weight, Wei Tong waited. A few days later, word arrived just as expected: whatever happened, Wei Tong was to seek out Liu Yu at the noon hour. Time and place were arranged for him, and at the appointed hour, Wei Tong went straight there.

As Liu Cheng’s nephew, Liu Yu had cooked up some pretext to claim a room all to himself, right near Liu Cheng’s quarters. Others envied him, but with Liu Cheng the second-in-command of Qingning Palace, who would dare offend?

When Wei Tong arrived, Liu Yu was at his midday meal. Liu Yu was himself nothing more than a culinary eunuch, but plenty of people wanted to curry favor with him, and the spread on his table put anything Wei Tong had ever eaten to shame.

Having waved Wei Tong in, Liu Yu ignored him entirely, unhurriedly finishing his food before opening his mouth. It was deliberate; he meant to leave him hanging. Wei Tong had first swooped in and stolen his position, then gone on to earn glowing reviews from his uncle. Liu Cheng held no goodwill toward Wei Tong at all, and neither did he.

Still, when Liu Cheng had transferred Wei Tong out of the Buku Training Ground and Liu Yu had slid into his slot, and then Wei Tong had been moved again to the small study, most of the anger in Liu Yu’s chest had drained away. But he still couldn’t be bothered to see the man. If not for Liu Cheng’s specific instruction, Liu Yu would never have granted the meeting.

Wei Tong knew Liu Yu held no fondness for him. If he wanted him standing, he stood, and said nothing extra.

Liu Yu studied him, needles threaded through every word. “Wei Tong, you must have some idea in that head of yours why I called you here today?”

Wei Tong bowed. “This servant does not know the reason.” The bow pleased Liu Yu. His rank stood half a step above Wei Tong’s, and the courtesy was optional at that. It soothed him considerably, and his tone softened a little.

“A few days ago, didn’t Zhang Jiu come to see you? What did he say?”

“Zhang Jiu did come to see this servant. But he seemed very strange that day. He said he had business with me, yet when I asked what had happened, he dodged and flinched like a startled bird. I asked several times; in the end he never spoke. He sat for about half an hour and left.” Wei Tong’s manner was neither servile nor shaken, his voice so even and calm that it invited belief.

Liu Yu listened and stroked his chin. He truly didn’t think Wei Tong was involved. However much he disliked the man, when they had interrogated Zhang Jiu, the fool had told the same story. Had Zhang Jiu breathed so much as a hint, Wei Tong would not be standing here so comfortably now.

Wei Tong counted as one of theirs, but held no core standing; what he shouldn’t know, he must not know at all.

Only Liu Cheng, Liu Yu, and that man knew of the account book. If it leaked, Liu Cheng would want him dead. Liu Yu dared not be careless, and in his heart he refused to believe Wei Tong knew anything.

If Wei Tong knew, then everyone Wei Tong had contacted lately would need checking too, and Liu Cheng’s displeasure with him would only deepen. Liu Yu dared not provoke Liu Cheng. Besides, Wei Tong was too calm as he spoke. There was grief over Zhang Jiu’s fate, but nothing else at all. If Wei Tong truly knew what he shouldn’t, this wasn’t the reaction he would show. Nor, in Liu Yu’s judgment, was Wei Tong’s acting that flawless.

In truth, had Liu Cheng himself been sitting there, something might have shown. But Liu Yu was far greener than his uncle, and Wei Tong’s mask held.

“If that’s how it is, then keep that mouth of yours tight. Grandpa Liu thinks highly of you. Don’t squander his expectations.” All of Liu Cheng’s arrangements for Wei Tong went through Liu Yu, so of course Liu Yu knew his current task. But ever since Wei Tong’s contact with the Emperor had dwindled, Liu Cheng had valued him less and less.

“Oh, one more thing.” Just as Wei Tong was about to withdraw, Liu Yu called him back and said with elaborate carelessness, “Considering how properly you’ve behaved lately, I’ll tell you something. Your younger sister is at the Court Entertainment Bureau now. The official courtesan system was abolished long ago, but the way your little sister looks, with some proper grooming she might just catch a noble patron’s eye, get taken back to his rooms and doted on. Then you’d have someone to see you cared for in your old age.”

In Liu Yu’s own estimation, this was the height of generosity. Meeting Wei Tong had drained the last dregs of his anger, and for all the man’s respectfulness, a few words cost him nothing. But to Wei Tong’s ears, it landed like a thunderbolt. He tasted blood in his throat and strangled it down, bowed, and left.

Only back in his own room did the blood Wei Tong had been holding finally come up. The nearly black pool spreading across the floor filled his eyes. What a brilliant scheme Liu Cheng had cooked up!

Liu Cheng had never intended to let Wei Ning go, not from the very start. To him, Wei Tong and Wei Ning were nothing but convenient chess pieces. Why leave a piece idle when it could be put to good use elsewhere? The moment he learned Wei Ning had looks worth using, he had handed down the arrangement with a flick of his tongue.

Wei Ning’s transfer to the Court Entertainment Bureau had been settled long before Wei Tong ever went to plead with Liu Cheng.

The Qing had abolished the official courtesan system, and the women of the Court Entertainment Bureau no longer served as courtesans attending to men; they existed to play music for imperial ceremonies and banquets. But what became of these women in the end, Wei Tong knew all too well.

From that day on, Wei Tong set himself to courting Liu Yu’s goodwill by every means. But so seamlessly that no one would call it fawning or find it tiresome, soaking in like spring rain that moistens everything unseen. Before long, Liu Yu’s face toward Wei Tong had warmed considerably.

Kangxi rarely visited the small study, but now and then he would have need of a book from it, and would send someone to fetch it. As the trips added up, Wei Tong began accompanying the messenger back, returning the volumes His Majesty had finished.

Naturally, such occasions were few. This was only the small study of Qingning Palace; whatever its holdings, they couldn’t rival the Wenyuan Pavilion. But even in those sparse trips, Wei Tong’s sharp eye caught things worth reporting, and the more trips he made, the brighter Liu Yu’s face grew.

Small details draw no attention on their own, but pieced together, they betray the shape of things. For instance: at court, Kangxi nodded and smiled his assent to every memorial to the throne. But after court adjourned, was his mood good or foul? Whom did he summon? Where had he gone? Had he visited the Grand Empress Dowager? Pull at the threads one by one, and something always showed.

And so, with meticulous care, Wei Tong inched closer to Liu Yu, never so abruptly that even if Liu Cheng learned of it, he would think twice.

Coming back from outside, Wei Tong crossed paths with Zhao He and nodded to him with a smile. Zhao He returned a brief nod, and as they brushed past, he murmured, “You’ve been going out too often lately. Be careful.” Wei Tong’s brow lifted at that; then he pressed his lips together.

Wei Tong was no fool; he understood the warning. For the next several days, he stopped moving as before. He could be anxious inside, but his actions could not be.

Time flew. Snow whirled down, and winter arrived, drawing the seventh year of Kangxi’s reign to its close. Wei Tong’s emotions had steadied. In such work, planning must precede action; feelings left to surge will break their banks. Never before had he imagined himself wielding such methods. People really do change.

Now and then the thought made him mock himself. When Xuan learned of Wei Tong’s troubles, he had laughed himself half to death without a moment’s hesitation, and while Wei Tong glared stone-faced, he said, “If you never changed, that’s when I’d look down on you, Wei. Your circumstances are what they are. You either change with them, or did you expect the world to bend around you?”

Wei Tong was no naive child; such sentiment lasted only a moment. Had he stood anywhere else, he would have wished never to do such things, of course. But things being what they were, there was no room for self-pity.

“Worry about yourself first. The year’s end is when everything piles up. Don’t let anything go wrong, or you’ll be drowning in your own troubles.” Wei Tong shot back without mercy. Xuan had more than enough on his own plate.

Xuan wasn’t offended; he laughed low instead. “I’d be delighted if he kicked up a storm. The bigger he stirs it, the happier I am.” Wei Tong was puzzled at first, but turning Xuan’s words over, a sudden shiver ran through him. “Xuan, whoever crosses you is cursed indeed.”

Xuan’s scheme, at bottom, was nothing but ruin by acclaim. Hoist a man high enough, and the discontented multiply, so that when he falls, he falls all the more shatteringly.

Xuan’s brow arched, and the smile curling at his lips spread wider. Oh my. Wei had actually read his mind. And there was none of the usual displeasure of a man whose thoughts had been probed. This time, Xuan simply threw back his head and laughed out loud, leaving Wei Tong on the far side of the folding screen utterly dumbfounded. What was wrong with him now? Did he find his own scheming funny or something?!