Yongle Year 18 (4)
Jin Myeong and Hyundo carried on two conversations at once — one spoken aloud, the other sent in silence. Easier said than done. Weaving two entirely different exchanges, voice and sound transmission running in seamless parallel, was a feat no ordinary mind could manage.
"Is Inspector Jeong well?"
In that case, perhaps it's time we called off the hunt.
Hyundo was genuinely curious about Jeong Go's condition. Rebuilding that dantian had been the second such attempt of his life, and the only one that had succeeded. A martial artist's true qi was not something one parted with lightly — not even for blood kin, not even for a disciple. He had poured into that boy thirty years of Yang-Limitless True Qi, more precious than blood itself. Of course he wanted to know whether the dantian he had rebuilt at such cost, and the man who now owned it, were faring well.
As an aside, the first attempt had been Crown Prince Zhu Gaochi's dantian. That reconstruction had failed.
"He's doing just fine. He's so pleased with the martial arts he got back that he doesn't even sleep — claims he's training."
As it happens, I'm on my way to see the Grand Director.
"Do tell him I hope he cultivates diligently and becomes a pillar of the Directorate of Ceremonial."
Aye. He's the only man who can bring His Majesty to the command tent.
"I'll be sure to pass that along. Well then — I'll leave you to it."
I'll be on my way.
A short while later, having taken his leave of Hyundo, Jin Myeong was passing the tents of Shiwangfu when an aged palace woman's voice carried out from within.
"We old servants shall attend to everything most faithfully, Your Highnesses. Heh-heh-heh!"
For a mere palace matron, the voice was loud, and both the content and the tone carried an unmistakable arrogance.
Shiwangfu, which stood outside the palace proper on the outskirts of the imperial city, housed two kinds of residents. The first were imperial princes not yet enfeoffed as regional kings. The second were princesses who had come of age and married. When a princess took a prince consort, she was given quarters in Shiwangfu and assigned palace women and eunuchs to attend her. Both the eunuchs and the palace women were middle-aged veterans steeped in court life, and among them the older matrons were called Gwanyapa — senior palace matrons.
The authority these senior matrons wielded was considerable.
The answering cackles of the other senior matrons, chiming in with the old Gwanyapa's words, carried easily past the tent walls.
"It must be all the more tender, meeting like this after so long?"
"...Thank you."
The strained voice answering the old matron belonged to Song Ying, son of Song Cheng, Marquis of Xuning, and prince consort to Princess Hanling, Zhu Zhiming — the Yongle Emperor's fourth daughter.
Song Ying was seeing his wife for the first time in nearly a month. And now these senior matrons were standing in the way of that long-awaited reunion. There was no reason in the world he should have been in a good mood. Zhu Zhiming and the other princesses were no better off.
"Her Highness is in our excellent care, so the Prince Consort need not worry himself. Heh-heh-heh!"
Listening from outside, Jin Myeong could hear only one kind of voice that sounded like it was having a good time: the senior matrons'.
He could see the situation inside that tent as clearly as if the canvas were glass — and he could see exactly what lay at the heart of it.
Give it a rest, you old vixens.
In the end he stopped walking and turned toward the Shiwangfu tent. Had it not caught his eye, he might have let it pass. But he had seen it, and so he would involve himself.
"Look at this — this is the one I just bought—!"
Mae Young, the senior matron holding court inside, was just lifting a newly purchased ring — bought with money squeezed from a prince consort — to show it off when Jin Myeong shoved the tent flap open and walked in.
For a heartbeat, silence swallowed the tent. Mae Young, her sentence cut short, and every other person present turned to stare. The look in their eyes said the same thing: And who are you supposed to be?
"Who do you think you are? How dare you barge in without so much as an announcement!"
The plump Mae Young broke the silence. She had been in fine spirits, and this eunuch had gone and killed the mood by cutting her off mid-sentence.
"This servant offers his respects to the four Princesses and the three Prince Consorts."
Without answering her, Jin Myeong swept a glance around the tent, then clasped his hands and bowed toward the princesses and their consorts. The eldest daughter, Princess Yong'an, Zhu Yuying, had died three years prior, and Li Yang, prince consort to the second daughter, Princess Yongping, had died sixteen years ago. That left four princesses and three consorts in the tent.
"This inner attendant is—"
"You little—!"
Princess Yongping, who had assumed the position of eldest princess in her late sister's stead, had begun to ask who he was when Mae Young cut straight across her with a shout. At that venomous surge of authority, the princesses and consorts all shut their mouths.
"You walk in without permission and then you have the gall to ignore this old servant when she asks your identity?"
"I had intended to speak after paying my respects."
"Have you ever seen such insolence? Intended? In-ten-ded? What's your rank? Looking at that face, I'd say eighth rank — ninth, at best!"
"...Matron Mae, let us hear him out first. Inner attendant — what business brings you here?"
The one who stepped in, checking Mae Young with quiet dignity, was Princess Yongping. Her younger sisters and the consorts were in no position to cross a viper like Mae Young; there was no one else who could. She had been widowed for many years, and so she had no reason to watch a senior matron's face. From Princess Yongping, now past forty, there hung a quality both lonely and virtuous.
"Eldest Princess, has Your Highness been in good health?"
"You are kind to ask. What brings you? You appear to be of the Directorate of Ceremonial — have you come with something to tell the princesses?"
Even her manner of speaking was gracious. Hearing the eldest princess's tone, Jin Myeong decided he had done well to walk into this tent.
"Not so, Your Highness. This humble official has only recently entered the Directorate of Ceremonial, and this is his first visit to Shiwangfu. I came to pay my respects. But I cannot help noticing that the four Princesses and three Prince Consorts all look unwell."
He had barely finished inquiring after them when Mae Young, unable to sit still even that long, cut in again.
"You little—! Who are you to comment on Their Highnesses' and the Consorts' complexions?"
Princess Yongping, who had been about to answer Jin Myeong, let out a sigh and closed her mouth. Jin Myeong took that in, then turned and looked at Mae Young — a long, level stare.
"That's quite enough, Matron."
Mae Young and everyone else in the tent started. That's quite enough? Out of nowhere, a young eunuch who had just barged in was telling the most powerful senior matron in Shiwangfu to moderate herself. Princess Yongping and the rest were, for a moment, simply bewildered. Mae Young was no ordinary figure.
"What...? What did you just say? Fine! Come on, then. I'm going straight to your superior and settling this."
"By all means go — but you'll hear what I have to say first. You took money from the Prince Consort, did you not? You've taken quite enough. A pine caterpillar that feeds on anything but pine needles bursts its guts."
"You—? Have you ever seen such a brazen little—! Do you have any idea who this old servant is, talking to me like that?"
"Did you imagine the Directorate of Ceremonial was unaware that the senior matrons and eunuchs of Shiwangfu have colluded to obstruct Their Highnesses' reunions with their consorts?"
The senior matrons' mouths fell open. Then, as if by prior arrangement, they began exchanging panicked glances. While everyone was still reeling, Jin Myeong went on.
"The four Princesses and three Prince Consorts have been reunited — and yet every face in this tent is this dark. Why do you suppose that is?"
That was precisely why he had walked in. The moment he heard Mae Young and the other matrons cackling, he had recalled the sordid little racket they ran with the eunuchs assigned to Shiwangfu.
"Look at Those Highnesses' jade countenances, if you would. And yet every last senior matron's face is plump and gleaming. Now how do you suppose that came about?"
Jin Myeong's expression had gone hard. He raised a finger and pointed at the matrons one by one.
The moment a princess came of age and married, she was treated as a daughter given away — placed beyond the emperor's concern, and beyond all interference. To what degree? Seeing the father and mother who had borne her once or twice a year was already considered frequent. And so what did these women have left? Their consorts. Their children. That was all.
"The senior matrons take their cut in the middle and stand between husband and wife. That is why. Is it not?"
The senior matrons had planted themselves squarely in the way. A prince consort resided, like Shiwangfu itself, on the outskirts of the imperial city, in a place called the Chang'an Residence, and entered the palace only when summoned by his princess. And at that threshold, the senior matrons — in collusion with the eunuchs bound to them by the same dirty arrangement — took bribes from the consort before allowing him to see his wife. No bribe, and they blocked him. In other words, the single greatest obstacle to a princess meeting her husband was the senior palace matron.
"Even wild geese nuzzle beak and feather with their mates — how much more so for people. And since the matter has come up, the Directorate of Ceremonial will see that it is properly addressed."
The senior matrons had simply exploited the fact that the princesses had fallen outside the palace's attention. The princesses could not report it without losing face — and even if they tried, there was nowhere to report it. The palace women and eunuchs of Shiwangfu were all in on it, controlling every word that went in or out. And if a princess did speak up, she ran every risk of being pointed at as a wanton woman frantic for a man.
They know neither ordinary human feeling nor the first thing about compassion, and they dare call themselves attendants.
Thirty-three years a eunuch, Jin Myeong knew everything there was to know about palace affairs. Was it not pitiable, the lot of the princesses and their consorts? Truth be told, he didn't much care about the consorts — they were men. It was the princesses' plight that moved him.
"This is truly — this is truly beyond belief! Beyond belief! Does the Directorate of Ceremonial not even teach rank and station these days? Which Grand Eunuch trained you?"
Mae Young, so flabbergasted she was clutching the back of her neck and making strangled noises, began pouring out words thick with rage. A little castrated brat, airing a matter that implicated even his own superiors, in front of the princesses and consorts themselves — and threatening her on top of it. The boy was simply mad.
This gelded whelp who can't tell heaven from earth — does he have any idea who this old servant is?
She had entered the palace in her teens and had lived there for more than fifty years. She had every Grand Eunuch of the Twenty-Four Directorates filed away in her head, and she fully intended to march down this path, find one, and demand the boy be broken in half. The Grand Eunuchs would not want a feud with the palace women, and she had her understandings with the nine thousand palace women besides. The Grand Eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial would surely grant her request.
"A Grand Eunuch, perhaps — but a little Directorate hatchling like you, did you think you were someone? I'll have you on your knees begging this old servant to spare you!"
Mae Young's plump face trembled. The brat had clearly entered the Directorate young and grown arrogant on the strength of it. Putting on Directorate airs — starting with that fur coat, which in any other bureau you would need to be at least a Rank 6b Fengyu to wear. Neither Mae Young nor anyone else present had the faintest dream that the robes beneath that fur coat were embroidered with a four-clawed flood dragon.
"By all means, try. The Directorate of Ceremonial is not so loosely run as that."
"Fine. You'll be licking this old servant's shoes. All of you, come with me!"
Mae Young, boiling over, swept the other senior matrons with her and stalked out of the tent. The way she left without so much as informing the mistresses of the place was a spectacle in itself.
Jin Myeong gave a short, dry laugh at the sight, then turned back to the princesses and consorts. The temperature in his eyes, compared to the look he had given Mae Young and her matrons, was a world apart. A quiet smile touched his mouth as he spoke.
"This humble official will have a word with Jo Sik, Vice Director of the Imperial Academy of Medicine. When Your Highnesses return to Shiwangfu, do collect some tonics for the replenishment of vital essence."
At that, the princesses and consorts — who had been wound tight from the collision between Jin Myeong and the senior matrons — all flushed at once. Tonics for the replenishment of vital essence. Those were the kind of medicines one took to be of help at night. The thought crossed every mind that eunuchs, young or younger, were a blunt-spoken lot.
Then they glanced at Princess Yongping, and the thought that followed made them swallow their coughs. Princess Yongping had been widowed. Even if she received a tonic...
"I have no use for that."
The others, hearing the eldest princess's quiet aside, looked thoroughly embarrassed and found other places to rest their eyes. The air inside the tent had gone distinctly warm.
"For the Eldest Princess, this humble official will present a treasure brought from Arabia. And in return, would Your Highness tell me — how much have the senior matrons embezzled?"
"Will you be all right? We are grateful, of course, but will you not bring trouble on your own head?"
"Eldest Princess, do not trouble yourself on this servant's account. I will take this opportunity to replace every last one of the colluding matrons and inner attendants for you."
And so the princesses and consorts, half believing, half doubting, began to lay out the senior matrons' corruption. The identity of a Directorate of Ceremonial eunuch, and Jin Myeong's unshakable confidence, were enough to earn their trust. How deep the grievance ran became clear as the accounts went on — until what had started as testimony turned into complaint, and complaint into something close to tears.
At the same hour, in the Inner Court's tent, the Empress, the Crown Princess, and the ladies of the Six Palaces were gathered — and Zheng He was there as well. The Inner Court and the Grand Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, the emperor's closest shadow, were bound together by a tie that could not be cut.
"Hohoho!"
"O-hong-hong!"
The women of the Inner Court, reunited after so long, had set aside even the reality that they could not help competing over one man, and laughter was blooming among them. The Inner Court was not solely a place of jealousy and spite. Were they not all women in the same position? There were, in fact, many cases of deeper understanding and reliance among them than outsiders would guess. And besides — Zheng He was here. In the presence of Zheng He, who had no that to speak of, the rest of them, intact in body, could hardly sit around looking miserable and tearing into one another. Looked at a certain way, the most unfortunate and pitiable person in that tent was Zheng He.
The laughter was in full flower when an announcement came from outside the tent.
"Your Majesty, the palace women of Shiwangfu request an audience."
Mae Young and the senior matrons had arrived.
"The palace women of Shiwangfu?"
"Your Majesty, they will be the senior matrons."
The Empress asked, and Zheng He answered from beside her. The Empress nodded.
"Show them in."
Mae Young and the senior matrons entered. Four fat matrons filling the tent made it feel suddenly crowded.
"What is this about?"
The Empress asked, taking in faces that looked, for some reason, thoroughly aggrieved.
"This is Mae Young, Siyeok of Shiwangfu. These humble women have a matter of urgency to report to Your Majesty. It would be well if the Grand Director heard it as well."
Siyeok was Rank 5a. Palace women's ranks ran as high as Rank 1a, but those posts were vanishingly few — which meant that Rank 5a alone was a formidable grade. Mae Young had every reason to carry herself as if she owned the place.
"Speak."
"Just now, a young eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial barged straight into the Shiwangfu tent and..."
Mae Young and the senior matrons gave a thorough account of what had passed with Jin Myeong. The matter of taking money, of course, they dismissed as nothing but slander.
The princesses, in the Empress's eyes? They shared no blood with her; she would have no interest. The Emperor himself paid them no mind — would Zheng He? Far more likely he would choose to strengthen the bonds of fellowship between the palace women and the eunuch clan. And the old palace women were all of one mind besides. Unless the princesses and consorts were prepared to resign themselves to living apart, they would not be able to defy her.
You have misjudged this old servant — and misjudged her badly.
Mae Young savored the image of Jin Myeong on his knees, begging for his life, and of her own hand cracking across his face.
And then—
"A young eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, you say? Was he handsome?"
The Empress's response, once she had heard the whole tale, was not what anyone expected. Why, in a situation like this, was she asking about a eunuch's looks?
"Ah—! He looked to be about twenty, and his features were rather outstanding, yes. He did say a name, but his conduct was so insufferable that I am afraid I have forgotten it."
Mae Young and the senior matrons had not retained the name they had heard in passing. What was there to remember in the name of an arrogant little eunuch?
"And his height? Was he tall? Was he not wearing a padded overcoat?"
It was getting more absurd by the question. First his looks, now his height? It made no sense. The Crown Princess and Zheng He both seemed to be of the same mind as the Empress, and Mae Young could not begin to understand what on earth was going on in the palace these days.
"He was tall, yes. About six chi, I would say. But an overcoat, Your Majesty?"
"Ah — so he was wearing a coat. Crown Princess, Grand Director. Does that not sound like him?"
"Your Majesty, this concubine thinks so as well."
"This servant's thoughts also... it would seem to be Supervisor Jang..."
Leaving Mae Young and the senior matrons blinking in confusion, the Empress, the Crown Princess, and Zheng He exchanged a look. A mere young eunuch, roaming the army camp as he pleased, walking into a Shiwangfu tent and pouring out words that bold — and a man of striking looks and imposing height besides. Who else could it be?
Supervisor Jang?
Mae Young did not miss Zheng He's last words. Supervisor — that was a Rank 5a Gonggong, was it not? What was all this about looks and height, and now suddenly a Supervisor, and she could not make head or tail of any of it—
At that moment:
"Your Majesty, Supervisor Jang Jinmyeong of the Directorate of Ceremonial has come seeking the Grand Director."
An attending palace woman announced Jin Myeong's arrival, and color bloomed across the faces of the Empress and the Crown Princess. The face of Princess Ju Jeong-won, seated beside the Crown Princess, lit the same way.
"Show him in. Perfect timing. Matron Mae — might this be the man you spoke of? He rather sounds like the person you described."
"I beg your pardon?"
Mae Young, utterly lost, twisted her slightly bowed waist and looked behind her.