The Zhu Father and Daughter (3)

"To Xi'an Gate! Full speed! Follow me!"

"Sir!"

With Jin Myeong's help, the assassins had been cut down. The Jinyiwei guardsmen and Gongsun Dajing wasted no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they drove hard for Xi'an Gate, determined to punch through before the killers still hidden in the tea houses and inns could launch a second assault.

It would not be that easy.

Glass exploded. Across the avenue from Yuwol Pavilion, some twenty assassins burst through the second-floor windows of the Gungga Tea House, raining daggers, throwing stars, and every manner of hidden weapon down upon Gongsun Dajing and his men.

Steel rang on steel. The wave of hidden weapons crashed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over the Brocade Guards; those they failed to bat aside punched into flesh. Two guardsmen went down with daggers buried in their skulls.

Never show weakness to the enemy — that was the pride of the Jinyiwei. Screams and groans were the clamor of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠frail. And when the enemy was a traitor, there was even less to say. The guardsmen kept their mouths shut until the moment they died.

Bodies of commoners who had not been able to flee lay scattered along the avenue. Cut support poles and collapsed awnings flapped in the wind. The only thing still clean was the carriage carrying the Zhu father and daughter — because dying and wounded guardsmen had taken every blow with their own bodies.

"Break through!"

"Sir!"

By every measure, these were the finest martial officers in the imperial palace. The deeper the crisis, the louder the Jinyiwei's war cries grew. At Gongsun Dajing's fury-soaked command, the Nine Dragons Grand Luo Saber Form unfurled from the guardsmen's hands once more.

Choked screams tore from the assassins' throats.

From Yingtianfu, following the Yongle Emperor across the Gobi Desert all the way to the forests of Karakorum — these were the comrades who had shared that brutal northern campaign, who had lived and died together. The Jinyiwei was not a martial sect. It was an army. The bond between men who had marched and bled together for months and years surpassed anything ordinary people could imagine. Comradeship, at times, ran thicker than blood.

Rage boiling over at their brothers' deaths, the guardsmen poured true qi into their sabers until the steel itself could take no more. Weapons that met that densely condensed blade-qi shattered into fragments.

"Qianhu! The rear!"

A guardsman holding the rear of the imperial carriage shouted toward Gongsun Dajing, who still gripped the reins.

"Take the reins!"

"Sir!"

Gongsun Dajing shoved the reins into the hands of a subordinate covering the front and vaulted onto the carriage roof. The assassins' last stand had all but stopped the carriage in its tracks. Only ten of his men remained around it — and from the rear, another twenty-odd killers were already loosing fresh volleys of hidden weapons.

Gongsun Dajing smashed the incoming steel aside and clenched his jaw.

If the traitors come pouring out of the inns as well, I cannot swear what happens next.

Meanwhile the assassins who had appeared from behind were closing fast, racing along the avenue and over the rooftops on either side. Spent of hidden weapons, they kicked loose tiles as they ran and sent them screaming down like blades.

"Qianhu! Go on ahead!"

"Absolutely not! Do not leave the imperial carriage! Guard it even in death!"

Gongsun Dajing was still pulling his men back from a suicidal last stand when a disaster that should never have been possible erupted at the front.

"Qianh—!"

The warning came from ahead of the carriage — from a place no warning should have come. It was, without a doubt, the subordinate who had taken the reins.

"Baihu!"

Gongsun Dajing's roar split the air. The man who had gasped out that single warning was already dead, flung aside like a sack of grain. The assassin who had ambushed the driver vaulted up into the coachman's seat.

Steel bit wood. The front of the carriage was being hacked open by force — and from within came the desperate cries of Zhu Gaochi and Princess Ju Jeong-won.

"You treasonous bastard!"

"Father?!"

"You traitorous scum!"

Gongsun Dajing knew he was too late. He was twisting, trying to hurl blade-qi toward the coachman's seat by sheer will —

And then it happened.

In the heart of that split-second catastrophe, something dark blue appeared as if conjured from a dream. One moment the coachman's seat was empty of it; the next, a dark-blue shape occupied the space — and the air in front of the carriage began to shudder.

The wave of atmosphere that rolled up over the roof was hot as the Eight Burning Hells and cold as a northern blizzard.

Then the blast.

A roar detonated from the collision of those opposed temperatures. Hundreds of blood-soaked scraps of flesh rained down across the carriage roof. They had belonged to the assassin who, a heartbeat before, had been holding a sword to Zhu Gaochi's throat.

"Your Highness the Crown Prince!"

Gongsun Dajing bellowed the Crown Prince's title. Inside the carriage, Zhu Gaochi, Princess Ju Jeong-won, and the eunuch and palace maid attending them sat frozen, as if time itself had stopped.

"Hah! Hyah! Ah… got blood on it. And this is my only set."

A eunuch's mutter drifted faintly from the coachman's seat. A moment ago, a blood-red martial robe and a sword had filled their vision. They had closed their eyes and opened them — and the assassin was gone. In his place, some eunuch sat in the driver's seat, his broad back filling the space where the front of the carriage had been carved away.

"Guardsman! Get over here and take the reins!"

The eunuch who had been talking to himself called to a guardsman racing alongside the carriage. The voice was startlingly young, and it carried a distinctly irritable edge — as if he could not hand off those reins fast enough.

A short while later, the carriage that had shaken off the death-bringers' assault rolled onto the avenue with Xi'an Gate in sight.

When Crown Prince Zhu Gaochi arrived at Xi'an Gate through a road of blood, the soldiers defending the imperial palace roared the cheer as one. Gongsun Dajing, still holding the reins, brought the carriage to a gradual halt.

The party was a ruin. The front of the carriage had been torn away, its interior laid bare. Of the guardsmen, only six still lived, Gongsun Dajing included — and even those six were studded with hidden weapons. The only ones unharmed were the Zhu father and daughter inside the carriage, the eunuch and palace maid attending them, and the two horses, which had not lost so much as a hair thanks to the sacrifice of the men who had stood in front.

"Qianhu. We shall never forget the loyalty of you and your guardsmen."

As the carriage stopped, Zhu Gaochi commended Gongsun Dajing and his men in a voice of iron. Princess Ju Jeong-won had not yet shaken off the shock of the slaughter; she clung tight to her father's hand.

"This humble servant is overwhelmed, Your Highness. All of this was my failure of duty."

Gongsun Dajing stepped down from the coachman's seat and dropped to his knees.

"No. Without the Jinyiwei, We and Jeong-won would have met with disaster. We will report your merit to His Majesty."

"This servant is infinitely grateful, Your Highness. I speak with the utmost reverence — but the first merit does not belong to us. It belongs to a eunuch of the Directorate of City Overseers. A young eunuch warned this servant of the traitors' rebellion."

Gongsun Dajing was a true martial officer and a true martial artist. He was no hollow man stuffed with ambition and bluster; his character, as anyone could see, was upright. He believed a warrior's sincerity was the measure of his martial path, and he found more shame in knowing the truth and pretending otherwise than in any profit he might have gained by claiming the credit for himself.

"Ah! So that is how it was? Heaven itself came to the aid of We and Jeong-won! The Qianhu speaks truly! Where is that inner attendant? Let the eunuch of the Directorate of City Overseers who protected Us and Jeong-won step forward."

Silence.

Zhu Gaochi had given the order. Gongsun Dajing and the guardsmen searched the surroundings. No one stepped forward. Then a small stir ran through the eunuchs of the Directorate of City Overseers standing off to one side with their heads bowed.

The Directorate's eunuchs were thoroughly bewildered.

The Directorate of City Overseers? Us? Which of us?

If he protected His Highness the Crown Prince, wouldn't that be the Directorate of Ceremonial?

You dense eunuch — the one who attends His Highness is standing right over there.

Ah. Right. Then who are they looking for? We were all together the whole time.

That's… wait. Unless—

Unless what?

Isn't it Attendant Jang? Attendant Jang isn't here. He was here earlier, wasn't he? I heard Attendant Jang can actually fight.

Attendant Jang? You're right. Attendant Jang is gone.

From Zhu Gaochi down to the scholar-eunuchs of the Directorate of City Overseers, everyone was looking for Jin Myeong. Jin Myeong was somewhere else entirely.

At that same hour, on the third floor of the Gongga Inn, in a guest room whose window looked down on the avenue.

A corpse that had been standing frozen solid toppled to the floor and shattered into pieces.

It was August, the peak of the summer heat — and this was Yingtianfu, a city astride the Yangtze. Outside, the muggy midsummer air was writhing like a living thing. Inside the room, as if in mockery of all that, a piercing cold still lingered.

"Master, shall we inquire through the Beggar Clan?"

Yeong Hwa, first of the Yuwol Thirteen Flowers, asked the question of Zheng Hui, who was looking down at the frozen corpses. Every disciple of the Holy Mother Palace wore a silver mask that left exposed only the center of the forehead down to just beneath one eye. Though nothing more than half a brow, a pair of eyebrows, and the eyes could be seen, Yeong Hwa's overall presence was something altogether different from Shanghua, with her mixed blood and her large, vividly drawn features.

Where Shanghua — white-skinned, blue-eyed, with hair that caught a hint of red — was a beauty of sensual heat, Yeong Hwa was a beauty of cool clarity, every line from face to foot slender and refined.

"No. Their target was the Crown Prince."

Zheng Hui shook her head gently. Since the dead assassins' objective had not been this side, there was no need to make contact with the Beggar Clan.

"Yes, Master."

"Civil Chancellor. The Jinyiwei will look into it regardless. I will make inquiries from inside the palace. It isn't as though no investigation is needed."

Jin Myeong added this from behind Yeong Hwa, who had answered with quiet deference. A puzzled look crossed the faces of the Thirteen Flowers. Had the Civil Chancellor not just said there was no need to look into it? And yet he was insisting on looking into it separately.

The wise Zheng Hui, however, understood at once what Jin Myeong meant to say.

"Do as the Wusang wishes. These are people who stationed death-bringers in the Gongga Inn despite Yuwol Pavilion being the far better position. We need to know who they are."

Zheng Hui filled in what Jin Myeong had left unsaid, and the Thirteen Flowers and the Eleventh Hui, grasping the situation, nodded. The point was to determine whether the assassins' backers had known of Yuwol Pavilion's existence or not. If they had known, it would mean the Holy Mother Palace itself had been exposed.

"Go back and rest. The Wusang should return to the palace as well, should he not?"

"Yes. I'm already a little late."

"Then go."

"Yes, Civil Chancellor."

A short while later, at the Directorate of Ceremonial.

Chief Superintendent Yi Gwak and the Grand Eunuchs beneath him. The Left and Right Junior Directors, Yun Bong among them, the Left and Right Supervisors, and every Directorate eunuch not assigned to the halls of the imperial family or the consorts — all of them had been assembled.

"Qianhu. You are certain you said a eunuch of the Directorate of City Overseers?"

"I am, Gonggong."

Gongsun Dajing answered Yi Gwak's question. He had come to the Directorate of Ceremonial with his remaining men on Zhu Gaochi's order to find the eunuch who had performed so great a service. For the same reason, every eunuch of the Directorate of City Overseers had been summoned, including those who had been at Xi'an Gate at the time.

"Hah… And which inner attendant was charged with the Xi'an Gate avenue today?"

Yi Gwak asked.

"This humble one, Gonggong. Deung So, Director of the Directorate of City Overseers."

"Attendant Deung. What is the meaning of this? His Majesty and His Highness the Crown Prince wish to commend the inner attendant who performed this great service."

"Th-that is…"

Deung So could neither step forward nor step back. Who among them did not know this was a once-in-a-millennium chance to shoot up the ranks? Under any other circumstances they would have been trampling each other to claim it. But after all the arguing among the eunuchs on the way here, one thing was clear: it had not been one of the Directorate of City Overseers' own. The only plausible candidate was Jin Myeong — the one man who had recognized the assassins and used martial arts besides, the one who had sent word through Jeong Go that killers were present. And yet Jin Myeong was not coming forward, which meant it was not him either. If Deung So named Jin Myeong and turned out to be wrong, he might well be punished for talking nonsense. He could not speak carelessly.

"I asked the attendants, but they say it wasn't…"

"Hah… His Highness the Crown Prince is waiting, and every moment is as three autumns."

Deung So hemmed and hawed. Yi Gwak looked at Gongsun Dajing with a sigh of genuine incomprehension.

"Mm…"

Gongsun Dajing was no less baffled. He had heard it with his own ears: a eunuch of the Directorate of City Overseers. The man had saved the Crown Prince and the Princess; a great reward was certain. He could not begin to understand why the man would not come forward.

Then a thought flashed through his mind.

"Ah! Gonggong — something is strange."

"What is, Qianhu?"

"The situation was so urgent I failed to consider it at the time, but the attendant's voice was far too young to belong to a Gonggong of the fifth rank or higher."

"Was it? Young… how young?"

"He was not a eunuch who entered the palace after coming of age. It was a boy's voice. It had never broken."

"A Tongjeong, then?"

Eunuchs castrated in childhood were called Tongjeong — the ever-pure, those who would keep their chastity for life. Those castrated after reaching manhood were simply Jeong. That narrowed the field considerably. Anyone outside that range would never be found — because he would not be a eunuch at all. He would be a man disguised as one.

"Curious. A curious business indeed. Junior Director Yun."

Yi Gwak called Yun Bong. That narrowed field pointed to the Directorate of Ceremonial. Every young eunuch of real martial strength belonged to the Directorate of Ceremonial, for unlike the other offices they began training in the Sunflower Manual from their days as wooden-tablet novices.

"Yes, Gonggong!"

"Among the eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial, is there anyone who received leave to go outside the palace?"

"There is not, Gonggong."

"None? Qianhu, I am afraid we may have to—"

"Ah! Gonggong! Not on leave — but there are four Directorate eunuchs who did go outside the palace."

Yun Bong cut in before Yi Gwak could tell Gongsun Dajing they would need to consider other possibilities.

"Who?"

At Yi Gwak's question, Yun Bong's head turned toward his mark. Every other gaze in the hall followed his.

"Scholar-Eunuch Wang Zhen."

"Yes, Gonggong!"

"Scholar-Eunuch Zhao Gou."

"Yes, Gonggong!"

As Yun Bong called the names of those who had gone outside the palace, each man answered in turn.

"Novice Jeong Go."

"Yes, Gonggong!"

And last of all.