The Minister of Works Shows His True Colors, and the Emperor Despairs

Cao Cao's momentum climbed by the day, and aside from Liu Bei's faction, the whole of the court spent its hours watching the mood of the Minister of Works.

Liu Bei, for his part, gathered what strength he could and tried to win over the men still walking a tightrope between Cao Cao and himself. It was not enough.

There was a limit to how wide I could throw the storehouses open. We might raise local troops and press the recruitment of talent from Jingzhou, Yangzhou, Yuzhou, and Xuzhou as hard as we pleased — our rival was already ahead of us.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

And into the midst of that stalemate, a bombshell burst over the court.

"Your Majesty! Your servant, Vice Director Zhao Wen, stakes his life upon this memorial!"

He tore off ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his official cap, shook his topknot loose, and cried out as he knelt upon the stone in plea for death. I resolved to hear that memorial through to the very end.

It was the remonstrance of a loyal minister who had already made his peace with death.

One by one, men gathered around Zhao Wen's memorial.

"Vice Director Zhao's spirit is truly magnificent."

"Do you see that, beside the memorial? There's an axe."

That axe was his resolve made visible. He had submitted the memorial on the understanding that, should the man in power be angered, he might take up the axe at any moment and strike off the petitioner's head.

The loyal minister's remonstrance had erupted in the brief interval while I was outside the city, reckoning the tribute due to the imperial house over a matter concerning Yuzhou.

The Vice Director was shouting it outright: that Cao Cao had occupied the court, and that everyone could see it. For an instant Cao Cao's partisans bristled — but before the imperial palace stood Guan Yu, Commander of the Tiger-Brave Imperial Guards, eyes glaring wide as he kept watch beside the loyal minister kneeling in plea for death. In that moment, anyone who dared rush forward would have had to face Guan Yu.

"A remonstrance offered in true sincerity — how could we stand idle?"

Colonel of the Palace Guard Wang Zifu and Colonel of the City Gates Zhong Ji came forward and knelt at Vice Director Zhao Wen's side.

"Your Majesty, pray accept this loyal minister's memorial!"

"Pray accept it!"

At the sight of it I rolled up my sleeves. Cao Cao would never choke that memorial down, but we still had to show that he had not yet swallowed the court whole. I was on the point of stepping into that place and supporting the memorial in my office as Deputy Chief Censor, when a hand caught my robe.

Not one hand. Two.

Lu Su had my right sleeve. My left, unexpectedly, was in the grip of Yang Xiu, son of Yang Biao. Both of them shook their heads with desperate faces, wordlessly begging me not to step forward.

"The Han is rich in loyal ministers indeed. Setting aside a powerful minister such as myself, loyal men are thick upon the ground, I tell you."

"Minister of Works!"

When Zhao Wen shouted at him, Cao Cao laughed and offered the Vice Director a courteous bow. Then he drew closer still, sat, and met the man's eyes.

In the instant Zhao Wen reached for the axe at his hand, Cao Cao quietly picked up the memorial.

Zhao Wen started.

"A memorial this precious ought to be placed in His Majesty's hands without a moment's delay. I shall deliver it myself."

"Minister!"

"Why so agitated? I truly wish His Majesty to read it. Have I not said so?"

Cao Cao dusted off the bamboo slips sprawled across the ground, rolled them neatly, and held them out to Guan Yu, Commander of the Tiger-Brave Imperial Guards.

"You are the Commander of the Tiger-Brave Guards, charged with the protection of the imperial house. Will you deliver it yourself?"

Guan Yu said nothing.

"Or, since this man holds rank among the Three Excellencies, shall I report it to His Majesty myself?"

Guan Yu could have cut him down then and there, more than once. In truth the impulse was on him: he gripped the Green Dragon Crescent Blade with the fine veins standing out along his hand, and trembled from head to foot. Cao Cao did not so much as ripple. He only smiled and held Guan Yu's gaze, until at last Guan Yu took the slips.

"I will convey them to His Majesty the Emperor."

"You have my thanks."

Cool as you please, Cao Cao handed over a memorial demanding that he reduce his own faction and see the court properly reformed, then turned with a smile to look over the assembly. His eyes found me in particular, and the smile he wore then was one I could not read. I looked straight back at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him.

It was a few days after the affair of Zhao Wen's memorial.

"Your Majesty. Your Majesty."

"What is it?"

A palace eunuch hurried in, flung himself flat, and made his report.

"Your Majesty, word has come that the entire household of Vice Director Zhao Wen is dead!"

"Wh— what are you saying? Vice Director Zhao, dead?"

"The whole family drank poison and took their own lives… so they say."

In that instant the soul went out of the Emperor, and he dropped where he sat.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"

Eunuchs and palace women cried out around him, but the Emperor only stared blankly into the empty air, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gone from himself. Another minister who had shared his sufferings since Chang'an was lost to him.

A thousand thoughts crowded his mind. Cao Cao's conduct at the hunting preserve, in days past. The terror, whenever the man was granted a private audience as the only one of the Three Excellencies appointed within the court, of a blade's point laid the length of his whole body. Cao Cao forever pressed him down, and yet spoke, from first to last, with perfect ease.

"Your Majesty, this humble servant stands on Your Majesty's side alone. Trust none but me, and entrust the governance of the realm to my hands. I shall spend all my strength in the punishment of traitors and bring the state to stability — pray lend me your power."

Yang Biao had been cast down by Cao Cao. Shi Sunrui had departed. And now even Zhao Wen was gone, his whole house dead in a suicide that defied all sense.

"Next it will be the Imperial Uncle, and the last will be me… What am I supposed to do anymore…?"

"Your Majesty!"

It was the feeling of his own limbs being slowly cut away, from a single finger to a single leg, until at the last a blade's edge hung over his throat. A terror beyond Dong Zhuo, beyond Li Jue and Guo Si, closed over the Emperor, and his heart began to shake.

I went straight into the Secretariat.

"Ah. The Deputy Chief Censor…"

With a long rattling clatter I let the bamboo slips spill open before Xun Yu's eyes. He flinched, then nodded and gathered them up.

"Which slips are these?"

"The last testament of the late Vice Director Zhao's household. These were his final words."

"A truly lamentable affair."

"Do you truly find it lamentable?"

Was this not blatant beyond all decency? Impeachment memorials and demands for punishment had dried up in the factional struggle, and so this was their answer — assassinating the officials of the realm? Not the man alone, but his entire house?

Xun Yu held his poker face to the very end and examined the slips with perfect calm.

"I truly know nothing of this matter."

"And the Minister of Works knows nothing of it either?"

"It is not a matter I am able to know."

"Very well. Then I mean to use the office of Deputy Chief Censor to investigate this affair. I am already questioning every one of Vice Director Zhao's servants, and I intend to determine whether the hand of this testament was forged."

The brushwork had to be appraised before anyone could say whether the will was genuine. Ordinarily the finest calligrapher in the court would have been set to supervise such a judgment, and the greatest master of the brush now living was said to be Zhong Yao — but he, too, belonged to Cao Cao's army, and he had already departed for Yongzhou. So I demanded the appraisal of Xun Yu to his face.

"If you are truly the great Confucian of Yingchuan — if you are a man who understands what the Qingliu are — then I do not believe you will render some idle, crooked judgment."

"…Very well. Upon my life, and upon the honor of my house, I will determine whether this is Vice Director Zhao's own hand, or a false testament."

Xun Yu had set his own neck upon the answer. At the very least I would not rest until I had driven a wedge between him and Cao Cao — and if there was a true culprit, I would submit a memorial demanding that the man be punished. That much I swore.

"Minister. A memorial that stakes one's life means, you see, that a man truly sits down and writes out his testament."

"Hahaha! Fengxiao, why say such a thing? I, too, am a man who grieves that yet another old servant of the Han has taken his leave."

Guo Jia had come to make his report not at the Ministry of Works, but at Cao Cao's own principal residence. He had put his hand to the matter in advance and already knew of Zhao Wen's memorial, and he had secured the fact that Zhao Wen — braced for Cao Cao's hatred, for being strung up in the marketplace or losing his head — had written several testaments beforehand.

"He dug three graves, as it were. One was that memorial. Another was the testament found, most unfortunately, where the household died. And the last…"

"What, something to the effect that though he himself might die, that righteous spirit of his could not be broken, and so the officials remaining in court ought to join hands and seize me?"

At Cao Cao's question Guo Jia only smiled, and gave no answer.

"Even should Heaven itself be watching, no one can call it false. Both were written by Zhao Wen's own hand."

There was only a difference in the dates they had been written. And the only ones who knew that he had hidden a separate testament before his death were the dead man himself, Zhao Wen, and the two men in this room.

"Your Majesty, Xun Yu, Prefect of the Masters of Writing, makes his report. The testament of the late Vice Director Zhao is, beyond any shadow of doubt, writing from his own hand."

The hand had been examined again and again. It had been shown to people on our side as well, every character on the slips broken apart and set against the others — and still Xun Yu declared it the writing of one and the same man.

"If the slightest falsehood exists in your servant's investigation, or if this hand should prove not to be Vice Director Zhao's, then strike off your servant's head without a moment's hesitation!"

Liu Bei, come late to present the tax revenue gathered out of Yuzhou, felt his face twist by degrees. I could hardly breathe for the sheer absurdity of it. Xun Yu had truly staked the honor of his house and his own life to declare the letter genuine. How far were we supposed to trust a thing like that?

"Your Majesty, if the partisans who follow your servant within the court have grown too numerous, and if that has become a great burden upon the court, then your servant will gladly lend his strength to a reform of the court's appointments. Pray have new talents recommended, and receive their nominations with an open hand."

"I… will do so."

In the space of a few days the Emperor had fallen into panic, and with a face drained white as a sheet he followed the Minister of Works. And yet, even as he yielded, he looked upon the two of us, clenched his fist tight, and bit down hard upon his lip.

"The Minister of Works is not a man who ends here. I am truly afraid of that."

Even in the bedchamber of the imperial palace, the Emperor remained sunk in panic. Again and again he clutched at his head, hounded until black circles had gathered beneath both eyes. He lifted the brush and set it down, over and over, and sighs followed one upon another. At dawn he summoned the eunuchs, had wine brought in, and barely drank at all — he only clutched the bottle. He gnawed his nails, then bit clear through to the finger itself, until blood showed upon the imperial body.

When that blood fell upon the white silk, he raised his hand.

A blood letter, bearing the Emperor's true heart, was being written even now.