Chapter Fifty-Nine: Wolves Run Rampant

Eastern Capital, tenth month. Thunderheads gathered over the mountains, presaging a coming storm. Following Xu Jingzhen’s flight to the Turks, four more branches of the Li clan—kin and nobles of Chang’an—suffered harsh punishment. A tempest raged through the court; memorials from all quarters rose in towering stacks within the Phoenix Pavilion and Luan Terrace.

Wu Chengsi moved first, impeaching Vice Chancellor Yuan Wanqing of the Phoenix Pavilion and co-administrator of state affairs, accusing him of secret correspondence with Xu Jingzhen. The letters, it was claimed, hinted at material support—proof of divided loyalties and seditious intent. Wu Sansi would not be outdone; unable to find a target greater than the sitting prime minister, he won by sheer number, impeaching three men in succession: Minister of Justice Zhang Chujin, Prefect of Shanzhou Guo Zhengyi, and Deputy Minister of the Ministry of Summer, Cui Cha. He presented abundant evidence—some had dealings with Xu Jingzhen, others were implicated in facilitating his escape. The proof was irrefutable.

Empress Wu ordered the Court of Judicial Review and the Censorate to investigate thoroughly. Zhou Xing and Lai Junchen were dispatched anew, weaving charges, extracting confessions under torture. None of the impeached men escaped unscathed: Guo Zhengyi was beheaded; Yuan Wanqing and the other two were exiled to Lingnan. Their confessions caused the case to snowball, implicating dozens—if not hundreds—more.

At the height of the purge, Empress Wu dealt with three high officials in a single day: she ordered Prime Minister Wei Xuantong to die at home, confiscated the entire family estate of the retired former prime minister Zhang Guangfu, and forced General Heichi Changzhi, a veteran of the army and commander of the Left Guard, to hang himself.

The entire court fell silent, shivering as if winter had descended; ministers were seized with terror, their official robes now as deadly as vipers. Each time they ascended to court, they took leave as if bidding their final farewells to their families. Xu Jingzhen’s name became a taboo—utter it, and doom would follow.

The Li clan would not stand passively by. They struck back swiftly. They made no move to rescue Quan Yi and his son Quan Ce from prison. Instead, they concentrated their fire—using the bond between Quan Ce and Xue Huaiyi as master and disciple to accuse Xue Huaiyi of treason. Many came forward to testify to Xue Huaiyi’s debauchery in the temples—bedding ten women nightly, their stories grotesque and lurid: scriptures spread as mattress, maidens as coverlets, laughter and licentious cries heard for miles, sparing no effort to blacken his name.

Tai Chu Palace, Hall of Eternal Life.

Empress Wu skimmed through the memorials, a cold smile upon her lips. Whatever she read provoked her wrath; she flung the documents to the floor in a fury. “Despicable tricks—truly the lowest depths of shamelessness!”

“Your Majesty, calm yourself,” Shangguan Wan’er pleaded, hastening to her side. “Attend me—summon the Duke of E to the White Horse Temple.”

“No need,” the Empress waved her off, casting a sidelong glance at Wan’er. “I am not some petty woman who spends her days steeped in vinegar.”

“I beg your pardon,” Wan’er prostrated herself in apology.

“Rise. Outwardly, these people attack the Duke of E, but in truth—hmph.” The Empress gave a cold snort. “These ungrateful wolves have but one aim: to use the lives of the Quan father and son as pawns, to topple Xue Huaiyi. Topple him, and the Da Yun Commentaries are lost—that is the heart of the matter. A clever ploy, but how unfortunate for Quan Ce—such talent, and he’s become mere bait.”

“Your Majesty, the Princess of Yiyang requests an audience,” came a eunuch’s nervous report from outside the hall.

“Only now does she come? A hard-hearted woman—I will not see her.” The Empress, her mood still foul, waved the eunuch away, then paused, reconsidering. “Wait. Let her take Quan Yi home.”

“Your Majesty?” Shangguan Wan’er was taken aback.

A secretive, cold smile played over the Empress’s lips. “I have my own ways to deal with him.”

Wan’er lowered her gaze. Her concern was not the punishment awaiting Quan Yi, but why, when his transgressions were so clear, he was being released—while Quan Ce, guilty only of trying to protect his father, continued to suffer at Lijing Gate.

Kneeling outside the steps, Princess Yiyang listened to the edict. When she learned her husband could return home, grief and joy warred within her. She had not come sooner out of cruelty, but at the urging of Lu Zhaoyin and Lady Rui Lai. With the court winds howling, impetuous action would have been disastrous; waiting for calmer weather proved wiser.

“Good sir, may I ask—what of my child? Has Her Majesty decreed anything?” The princess mustered her courage, clutching the young eunuch’s sleeve as she timidly inquired.

The eunuch, hands flapping in alarm, bowed repeatedly, begging her not to ask. In recent days, the palace had been perilous—over ten eunuchs and maids had been beaten to death for careless words.

Helpless, Princess Yiyang followed a black-clad official to retrieve Quan Yi. He had not suffered torture, but had been fed coarse fare, kept under constant stress, his eyes sunken, his face gaunt, his body wasted away.

At the end of the tenth month, Empress Wu rewarded Duke of E, Xue Huaiyi, with five hundred households’ worth of fief, and, citing careless words and slander of high officials, ordered Deputy Censor-in-Chief Wei Sixun into retirement. The Li faction’s assault faltered; the Wu clan’s power rose, holding an unassailable advantage.

In these turbulent times, courtiers either joined the fray or clung to self-preservation. The first to plead for Quan Ce’s sake was not a close ally, but Du Shenyan, a mere acquaintance and Scholar of the Xiuwen Academy.

Du Shenyan, upright and unyielding, trusted no rumors. In his memorial, he laid bare Quan Ce’s character and conduct, concluding, “A man of talent is fit to serve; one who knows filial piety and brotherly duty can govern. Quan Ce possesses both. I have heard that in capturing Quan Ce at Lijing Gate, hundreds were mobilized—surely unnecessary. For such a man, no fetters or guards are required—so long as blood kin remain at the Princess of Yiyang’s residence, so long as a beloved waits in Forgetful Valley, he would surrender himself willingly. I have also heard that the authorities accuse Quan Ce of covering up his father’s crimes and killing rebels. In my view, this is not a crime, but a merit. Out of filial duty, he was bound to shield his kin; out of loyalty to Your Majesty, he dared to oppose his own father. Thus, Quan Ce is truly both loyal and filial—what crime is there? I beg Your Majesty to judge wisely.”

Empress Wu ordered Du Shenyan to read this memorial aloud before the court at the Wucheng Hall.

Du Shenyan showed no fear, his voice sonorous and resolute as he read his own words, his brow set, his bearing righteous and unyielding.

“Have any of you further counsel to offer?” Empress Wu’s phoenix gaze swept the court, taking in every reaction.

Su Weidao was first to respond. “I concur. There is no evidence of Quan Ce’s guilt. In his conduct and writings, he is manifestly a man of loyalty and filial piety. As has been said: judge good men by their hearts, not their deeds; judge evil men by their deeds, not their hearts. Quan Ce’s heart is good, his deeds blameless—he should not suffer further confinement. I beg Your Majesty to reconsider.”

Wu Chengsi also spoke, though with perfunctory words—just enough to show his stance. Since even Quan Yi had been released, the Empress’s intent to pardon Quan Ce was clear; it was best to follow her lead.

Wei Yuanzhong and Zheng Zhong also interceded for Quan Ce.

Empress Wu’s countenance thawed, and she smiled. “Your pleas are heard. I will decide in due course. Scholar Du, your talent and integrity are exemplary—you shall be promoted to the Censorate. Li Qiao, now Assistant Director of the Imperial Library, is likewise promoted; Du Shenyan becomes Censor. Remain steadfast in your purpose, offer sound counsel, and assist me in governance.”

Du Shenyan and Li Qiao stepped forward together to receive their honors. Two of the four literary friends rising in rank together was a rare sight.

The courtiers watched Du Shenyan’s fortune with hidden thoughts.

Wu Sansi’s shifty eyes darted, and suddenly he stepped forth. “I have a memorial: I impeach the Deputy Minister of the Court of State Ceremonies. In receiving the Turkish envoy, he showed undue deference, disgracing the nation—”

The Empress glanced at him, her smile deepening. “Dismiss him at once, investigate thoroughly. The Ministry of State is charged with appointments and oversight; lax discipline is a grave failing. Wu Chengsi, as Minister of State, is fined three years’ salary and demoted one rank.”

“I accept my punishment,” Wu Chengsi replied, suddenly struck by this misfortune. Bowing low, he shot a sidelong glare at the smug Wu Sansi—gnashing his silver teeth. This useless fool was good for nothing but currying favor and preening—truly loathsome.