Chang'an Imperial Estate - April 19th, 1940, Midday
The two officers remained in shock from what had transpired just minutes before. Bai Lu's parting words as she left still echoed in the room, hanging in the air like incense smoke that refused to dissipate. They were having tremendous difficulty processing the realization that their discovery of the listening device was not truly a discovery at all, it had been something deliberately placed for them to find. They had only found it because the Consort wanted them to. The understanding of how thoroughly they had been manipulated was almost more frightening than the surveillance itself. The tension in the room was immeasurable.
They couldn't bring themselves to speak to each other for a long while. Outside, the sun continued to shine with oblivious brightness, its warm rays creating a jarring contrast to the cold dread they felt inside the room. The osmanthus jellies lay untouched on the table, their golden translucence catching the sunlight and making them appear almost mockingly cheerful.
Wolfgang was the first to move, breaking the paralysis that had gripped them both. He approached the table and, with what seemed like deliberate action, took a piece of the jelly and bit into it. He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, then swallowed.
"It's delicious," Wolfgang declared, his voice carrying a note of determination. He gestured toward Kylian, inviting him to join. "Come, try some."
Kylian was leaning against the wall across from Wolfgang, watching his friend with a mixture of concern and bewilderment. He shook his head at Wolfgang's offer, unable to comprehend how his friend could think about eating at a time like this.
"Wolfgang..." Kylian said slowly, pushing off from the wall and approaching the table. "How do you still have appetite for this? I'm struggling to comprehend what we've actually ventured into here. What kind of situation have we found ourselves in?"
"I don't," Wolfgang replied honestly, reaching for another piece despite his words. Then he added, his tone hovering somewhere between earnest and sardonic, "But it would be deeply rude to leave the food untouched, considering the hospitality our hosts have shown us."
Kylian couldn't tell if his friend was being genuine or sarcastic, perhaps Wolfgang himself didn't know. "If you put it like that," Kylian conceded with a heavy sigh, "then let me have some too." He pulled out a chair and sat down, the wood creaking slightly under his weight.
"What do we do now?" Wolfgang asked, his voice hushed and careful, clearly trying to be discreet despite their earlier discovery that discretion might be futile in this place.
"I don't know, Wolfgang," Kylian admitted, picking up a piece of the osmanthus jelly. "But something just crossed my mind..." He placed the jelly in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and then continued, his tone growing even softer and more urgent. "Song and..."
He didn't need to finish. Wolfgang's eyebrows shot up in sudden, horrified comprehension. His mouth opened slightly as the full implications crashed over him. The conversation they'd had with Song in this very room. The walk through the forest with Song Zhongwei. And worst of all—the Princess herself had been present during that walk. If the Consort knew about their investigation, if she had been listening all along...
Wolfgang's face tensed visibly. He felt suddenly uncomfortable, his collar seeming too tight, the room too warm despite the cool air. The osmanthus jelly that had tasted so sweet moments before now felt like lead in his stomach.
Wolfgang carefully placed his chopsticks on the plate, took a deep breath to steady himself, and then continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what kind of trouble we've landed ourselves in, but I have a terrible feeling that lives must be on the line now. I am genuinely concerned for Her Highness. If the Consort thinks she was complicit in our investigation..."
His voice trailed off, but the unspoken implications hung heavy between them.
Kylian felt the same tension coiling in his chest. "My concern exactly," he said quietly, shaking his head with visible distress. "The potential complications from this... I don't even want to think about what might happen to them because of our actions."
"Right..." Wolfgang was momentarily lost for words, his mind racing through increasingly dire scenarios. Then his expression shifted to something that wasn't happiness but rather grim determination. "I say we go directly to the Consort ourselves right now and tell her we're sorry for our intrusion. We can explain we meant no disrespect, and request that she send us back to Beijing immediately." He leaned forward slightly, warming to this plan. "How does that sound? It's direct, honest, and will protect Song and the Princess from suspicion."
"That will put us into far more trouble than we're already in," Kylian dismissed the idea immediately, though not unkindly. "It would never work. She'd see it as weakness or, worse, as confirmation that we were indeed spying."
"Do you have a better idea then?" Wolfgang challenged, his voice still low but growing slightly louder in his frustration. "Because the way I see it, the longer we remain here, the more dangerous the situation becomes, for us and for them."
He took another deep breath, trying to calm the anxiety rising in his chest. The feeling of powerlessness was almost unbearable.
"Listen..." Kylian began, his voice carefully controlled and quiet. He paused, made absolutely certain the room was pin-drop silent, then leaned in closer to Wolfgang before continuing.
"Going to her right now is exactly what she wants. It would be us playing directly into her hand, giving her all the control." Kylian's dark eyes were intense, willing his friend to understand. "We should wait for her to summon us instead. Let her make the next move."
"Why?" Wolfgang raised his eyebrows, genuinely intrigued despite his anxiety. He leaned in to match Kylian's posture. "Can you elaborate on your reasoning?"
"I honestly believe she sent the Young Mistress with that message because she didn't want us to investigate any further," Kylian explained in hushed tones. "It's clearly a threat, she's letting us know she's aware of what we found. But I don't think she intends to kill us or cause a major diplomatic incident. Regardless, it's far better that we stay put and wait rather than act rashly and risk making things boil over into something uncontrollable."
Wolfgang pondered Kylian's words carefully, his mind working through the logic. After several moments, he nodded slowly in agreement. His friend was right, patience was their only viable strategy at the moment.
"I wonder what she actually wants from us though," Wolfgang mused, reaching for another piece of osmanthus jelly despite his earlier loss of appetite. Eating gave his hands something to do, helped him think. "She probably assumes we're here to spy on her estate, to gather intelligence about her power base and military capabilities for the Hanseatic Empire."
"That's possible," Kylian agreed thoughtfully. "But I think she's trying to control the situation more than anything else. She wants us to know our place, to understand that nothing happens in this estate without her knowledge and permission." He paused, resting his face on his fists where his arms were propped on the table. "But we can't say for certain what her ultimate goals are. That's why we should wait for her to show her hand."
"I understand your logic," Wolfgang said, his expression troubled. "But what about Song and the Princess? If something happens to them because of our actions, I won't be able to live with myself. It feels like we've dragged them into danger they didn't deserve."
His voice carried genuine anguish despite its hushed tone. The thought of harm coming to people who had shown them nothing but courtesy and friendship was almost unbearable.
Kylian took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the same guilt. "I'm deeply worried too, Wolfgang. Trust me, it's like there's a dagger pointed at them because of me. But I genuinely feel that action would be worse than inaction right now." His voice was soft but firm, carrying the conviction of someone who had thought this through from every angle. "I know it's profoundly troubling to wait and do nothing, but we're being watched and spied upon constantly. The only thing we can do right now is exercise patience. We'll get our questions answered when she calls for us and she will call for us. I'm certain of it."
Kylian's voice carried absolute firmness on this last point.
Wolfgang nodded in acceptance, recognizing that Kylian was right even though every instinct screamed at him to take action, to do something to protect their friend and the Princess. But they were nothing here, despite being at the pinnacle of their own society, in this remote rural estate in the Chinese countryside, they were completely powerless. Their rank, their training, their family names—none of it mattered here.
"We should drop this topic now," Wolfgang said quietly, rising from his seat and heading toward the washroom. "You can never be too sure if someone's listening or not. For all we know, there could be a dozen listening devices we haven't found."
"Hm," was all Kylian said, nodding his agreement as he leaned his head on his arm, suddenly feeling exhausted despite the relatively early hour.
The entire conversation had been conducted in hushed, careful tones but even as they fell silent, both men wondered if it had made any difference. If the Consort wanted to know what they were discussing, she would find a way to learn it.
As Wolfgang disappeared into the washroom, Kylian remained at the table, his thoughts spiraling despite his best efforts to control them. He could feel his heartbeat accelerating as his mind wandered unbidden to thoughts of Princess Changning. His chest felt tight, constricted by emotions he couldn't name or understand.
Why did he care so much about her safety? There were all sorts of feelings churning inside him that he couldn't describe or categorize. But the most troubling aspect of all was the simple fact that he was caring so deeply about someone he barely knew, someone he had exchanged perhaps a dozen words with. It made no rational sense.
He wanted desperately to brush these feelings aside, to compartmentalize them as he had been trained to do with any distraction during a mission. But every time he tried, he felt a pang of guilt—guilt because he might have implicated her in their investigation, might have brought the Consort's dangerous attention to bear on her. To him, that possibility was deeply, profoundly troubling. The thought that she might suffer consequences because of his curiosity, his inability to leave the surveillance mystery alone, was almost unbearable.
The two officers decided to remain inside their designated residence for the rest of the day, waiting to see what would come next. Wolfgang and Kylian stayed there throughout the entire afternoon in heavy silence as the sounds of normal estate activity continued outside their walls—servants calling to each other, children playing in distant courtyards, the rhythmic sounds of work being completed.
Servants still came to their residence at regular intervals, leaving food as usual. Although things appeared normal enough on the surface, both officers felt acutely that something was amiss, perhaps it was simply the lingering effect of Bai Lu's ominous message, or perhaps they were detecting genuine changes in how they were being treated. It was impossible to tell.
Despite their anxiety, they had to admit the food remained excellent. Crispy pork with perfectly rendered fat, steamed rice that was fluffy and fragrant, long beans cooked with garlic and chili, these were dishes that could never go wrong. There were also several preparations they couldn't identify, exotic vegetables and preparations that spoke to the depth of Chinese culinary tradition. Under other circumstances, Wolfgang would have been asking questions, taking notes, memorizing recipes. Now they simply ate in silence, grateful for sustenance but unable to truly enjoy it.
That evening, after what had been a surprisingly hearty meal given their stress levels, Wolfgang had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Kylian sat at the small writing desk, scribbling notes in a leather-bound journal he kept for personal observations, carefully coded entries that wouldn't mean much to anyone who might read them, but that helped him process his thoughts and maintain some record of events.
A knock came at the door—firm, authoritative, impossible to ignore.
Kylian quickly tucked his notes inside his coat pocket and moved to answer. He already knew, somehow, who it would be.
Of course, it was Bai Lu. This time she was smiling warmly, and somehow that smile made Kylian feel even more uneasy than her earlier cryptic warning had. There was something unsettling about her cheerful demeanor given the circumstances.
"Esteemed guest," Bai Lu said with a graceful bow, "I have been sent by the Consort because she has something of importance to discuss with you both."
Kylian raised his eyebrows slightly, returning her bow with careful attention to proper form. "What could the Consort possibly want to discuss with us at this hour?"
"That I do not know, Captain," Bai Lu replied with perfect courtesy. "The Consort never conveys her messages indirectly or shares her reasoning with servants. But I can assure you this is a formal matter of some significance. She would not summon foreign guests without good reason."
"Then we will attend her, of course," Kylian replied thoughtfully, his mind already racing through possibilities and potential strategies. "When are we expected, Young Mistress?"
"In one hour, Captain," was Bai Lu's response before she bowed once more and departed, her servants following silently behind her like shadows.
Kylian closed the door and turned back to the room, moving immediately to where Wolfgang lay sleeping. He looked peaceful, almost childlike in his sleep, completely oblivious to the summons they had just received. He must have been utterly exhausted after the stress of the past several days, Kylian thought. He felt almost guilty waking him.
But wake him he did, shaking Wolfgang's shoulder gently at first, then more insistently. Wolfgang resisted initially, groaning and trying to turn away, clearly annoyed at being disturbed. But eventually he surfaced to consciousness, yawning enormously and looking at Kylian with bleary, irritated eyes.
"This had better be important," Wolfgang muttered, rubbing his face.
"The Consort has summoned us," Kylian said simply.
Wolfgang was suddenly wide awake. "When?"
"One hour. We should prepare now."
Both officers washed up quickly in the cold water from the basin, the shock of it helping clear their heads and sharpen their focus. They donned their formal uniforms with meticulous care, ensuring every button was properly fastened, every piece of silver braiding lay perfectly straight, every element of their appearance conveyed respect and dignity. If they were walking into the spider's web, they would do so looking like the officers and gentlemen they were trained to be.
When they finally left their residence and began making their way toward the main hall where the Consort held court, the world outside had transformed into something almost magical. It was golden hour, that precious time when the setting sun painted everything in warm, honeyed light. The light reflected off surfaces in such a way that everything seemed to glow from within. It was, Kylian thought, exactly what Westerners meant when they spoke of "golden hour" in photography and painting.
The scene was spectacular despite their anxiety. The ancient architecture of the estate, the carefully tended gardens, the traditional rooflines, all of it was transformed into something almost otherworldly by the quality of the light. For a brief moment, Kylian understood why artists spent entire careers trying to capture such moments.
The commotion of daily estate life continued around them, but at this hour servants were primarily focused on preparing the evening meal and completing their final tasks before the estate settled into its nighttime routines.
"Have you thought about what you'll say to the Consort?" Wolfgang asked Kylian as they walked, pitching his voice just loud enough for his friend to hear but low enough that potential eavesdroppers would struggle to make out his words.
"That depends entirely on what she says first," Kylian replied pragmatically. "We need to hear her opening position before we can formulate our response. Going in with a prepared speech would be foolish, we need to remain flexible, responsive."
Wolfgang's expression grew troubled, almost sheepish. "What I said earlier about going to her directly and confessing everything, that was stupid, wasn't it? What was I thinking, proposing we essentially throw ourselves on her mercy?"
His head dropped slightly, and his fingers moved to his face in a gesture of embarrassment. He was clearly beating himself up over what he now recognized as a rash and potentially disastrous suggestion.
Kylian let out a soft chuckle, trying to ease his friend's self-recrimination. "It's completely understandable, my friend. After all, not everyone can remain calm and collected under this kind of pressure. You were trying to protect Song and the Princess, that's admirable, even if the method wouldn't have worked."
Wolfgang frowned and punched his friend's arm playfully in response to the gentle teasing. But both officers immediately refocused and composed themselves when they realized that several servants in the courtyard were watching their interaction with curiosity.
Suddenly an awkward air of silence fell over them. They straightened their postures, smoothed their uniforms, and continued toward the main hall with appropriate solemnity. They were foreign dignitaries meeting with a powerful member of the imperial family—they needed to look and act the part, regardless of how they felt inside.
When they reached the main hall of the estate, both officers took a moment to assess their surroundings. The hall couldn't compare in scale or grandeur to what they had witnessed in Beijing's Forbidden City, but it possessed a rustic charm of its own. The wooden pillars were ancient and massive, original to the building's construction centuries ago. They stood like silent witnesses to generations of imperial family gatherings, their dark wood polished smooth by age.
The room carried the scent of burning incense—sandalwood, perhaps, mixed with other aromatics they couldn't identify. The smoke created thin, wavering columns that caught the light filtering through the high windows, adding to the room's atmosphere of timeless authority.
Straight ahead of them, positioned on a slightly raised dais at the far end of the hall, stood the now-familiar carved divider that concealed the Consort from direct view. A servant stood slightly to the left of the divider, positioned to serve as translator. The moment they entered, the atmosphere became oppressive, heavy with unspoken threat. The air itself seemed filled with dread, as though the walls remembered previous audiences that had not gone well for those summoned.
The two Hanseatic officers maintained their composure through sheer force of will and military training. They advanced to an appropriate distance from the dais, offered deep, respectful bows toward the divider, and then took the seats that had been designated for them—cushions placed on the floor at a carefully measured distance that conveyed both respect and their status as honored guests.
"How are our guests feeling?" The voice behind the divider spoke in Chinese, which the servant immediately translated into English. The voice carried a tone of absolute authority—not loud, but utterly certain of its own power. Everyone in the room could feel the weight of that authority pressing down on them. "I hope our hospitality has been up to your standards and expectations?"
Kylian and Wolfgang remained silent for a moment, carefully considering their response. Finally, Kylian spoke, his voice calm and measured despite the racing of his heart.
"Of course, Noble Consort. The hospitality has far exceeded our expectations, perhaps it has been too hospitable, in fact."
Wolfgang's eyes widened slightly at his friend's boldness. He was screaming inside, hoping desperately that nothing catastrophic would come from this calculated provocation. He knew exactly what Kylian meant by that loaded statement, and he understood the risk involved in speaking so directly.
"Oh..." The Consort paused, and they could hear the faint sound of her adjusting her position behind the divider. Then she continued, her voice carrying a note of curiosity that might have been genuine or might have been theatrical. "Are our guests perhaps not accustomed to this level of attention and care? Is there any area in which we have been lacking? Any way we have failed in our duties as hosts?"
As she spoke, they heard the delicate sound of tea being poured and sipped. There was also tea prepared for the guests, fine porcelain cups on a low table within easy reach.
"Not at all, Noble Consort," Kylian replied, reaching for his tea and taking a measured sip. The tea was excellent, naturally. "But sometimes guests also desire time alone to reflect on what they have experienced. Too much attention can prevent the kind of contemplation that true learning requires."
Wolfgang tried to maintain his composure, taking nervous glances at Kylian as his friend engaged in this delicate verbal dance with one of the most powerful women in China.
"I see," the Consort replied, her voice taking on a different quality, softer in volume but somehow more assertive in its implications. "Esteemed guests of the Hanseatic Empire, you must understand that sometimes there are things that honored guests do which do not serve their hosts' interests very well. And there are some visitors who are not so well-behaved, who have difficulty adjusting to how things work in an imperial household. This is why the level of hospitality, the degree of attention and care may need to be adjusted to circumstances. Some guests require more... supervision... than others."
The threat could not have been clearer if she had spoken it directly.
"We understand that very well, Noble Consort," Kylian replied carefully. "And we want to emphasize that we are here to learn about Chinese culture in all its richness and complexity. We are here not to disrespect or to intrude, but genuinely to learn and to build understanding between our peoples." He paused deliberately before continuing. "But how can one truly learn, how can one take anything to heart and let it sink into one's understanding, when one does not have sufficient time and space to sit with what one has seen and experienced? True understanding requires reflection, not merely observation."
"You are quite right, of course, Captain," the Consort acknowledged. "And as this is an imperial estate with all the responsibilities that entails, it is my duty to ensure that everyone under this roof is properly looked after and cared for, though not everyone may appreciate or desire this level of careful attention. Some find it comforting. Others find it... constraining."
Kylian could tell exactly what she was implying. They were being watched because they had demonstrated they needed watching. The surveillance was not arbitrary, it was their own actions that had brought it upon them.
"It is entirely understandable that you would take your responsibilities so seriously, Noble Consort," Kylian replied smoothly. "Although I must observe that sometimes in the West, excessive hospitality, particularly hospitality that feels omnipresent can be perceived as overly assertive or even controlling, rather than welcoming. Cultural differences in these matters can lead to misunderstandings."
He was giving her an out, a way to frame the surveillance as merely a cultural difference rather than something more sinister.
"You do not need to concern yourself with that matter any longer, esteemed guest," the Consort said, and both officers felt a sudden shift in the conversation's direction. "I called you here this evening because a message has arrived from your embassy in Beijing. They are demanding that you both return to the capital tomorrow, traveling with the royal convoy."
"Tomorrow?" Wolfgang interjected, unable to keep the surprise from his voice as his eyebrows shot up.
"Yes, tomorrow," the Consort confirmed. "The matter is apparently quite urgent. The royal wedding between Her Imperial Highness Princess Ankang and His Imperial Highness Prince Itsuhito is scheduled to take place in three days' time. The Hanseatic embassy has formally requested that you both be present in Beijing no later than the twenty-first of April. As the convoy departs tomorrow morning, this timing works well for all parties."
Wolfgang and Kylian felt profound relief wash through them, though they were careful not to let it show too obviously on their faces. They were getting out. They would be leaving this beautiful prison and returning to Beijing where they had at least some protection and support.
But Kylian's thoughts immediately went to Princess Changning. Would she be returning to Beijing tomorrow as well? Would he see her again before they left? Would this be his last chance to... to what? He tried to brush the thoughts aside again. This was absolutely not the time to be thinking about her.
"The message is understood, Noble Consort," Kylian replied formally. "We are grateful for your hospitality and for facilitating our departure. We will be prepared to leave with the convoy in the morning."
"There is one more thing I must make clear to you both before you depart," the Consort said, and her voice took on a weightier quality that made both officers tense. "There is a rule that has been followed in this country for more than a thousand years. Royalty and those within the inner circles of imperial compounds do not form close relationships or intimate connections with outsiders. This is not merely tradition, it is a fundamental principle that preserves the stability and purity of the imperial line. There are consequences for violating this principle, consequences worse than any fate you might imagine. This is something that everyone in China understands and follows without question."
Though neither officer understood the Chinese words before the servant translated them, both could feel the oppressive weight and implicit threat in the Consort's voice. Once the translation was complete, the message was unmistakably clear. This was a warning—perhaps directed at them, perhaps at Song, perhaps at the Princess herself. Or perhaps at all of them.
The officers prepared to rise and take their leave, but Kylian felt compelled to respond to this warning, to push back just slightly against the implicit accusation.
"Yes, we understand the principle you are articulating, Noble Consort," Kylian said carefully. "But surely it would be tragic if someone were to face serious consequences merely for engaging in friendly interaction motivated by innocent curiosity about other cultures? Surely the intent behind actions matters, not merely the actions themselves?"
His statement was loaded with unspoken meaning, a defense of Song, of the Princess, of their own conduct. He was arguing that they had not violated any meaningful boundary, that their interactions had been innocent and proper.
The tension in the hall became suspended and the temperature seemed to suddenly drop. When the Consort spoke again, her voice was firm, unyielding, absolutely certain of its authority.
"Curiosity is what makes people oblivious to real danger, Captain. Curiosity can lead people to places they should never go, to discoveries that bring only suffering. But of course, much depends on the nature of that curiosity, whether it is genuine scholarly interest in culture and tradition, or whether it is something else entirely. Something more personal. More dangerous."
The air in the hall felt thick, almost hard to breathe. Both officers understood perfectly what she was saying. She knew. Or at least, she suspected.
"We will keep that wisdom in mind, Noble Consort," Kylian responded with careful neutrality. "Your words carry weight and truth."
"That is all," the Consort declared from behind her divider. "You may go. Travel safely tomorrow."
After the servant completed the translation, both officers rose, offered their deepest bows toward the divider, and departed the hall. They walked in silence for several moments, neither trusting themselves to speak until they were well away from that oppressive presence.
As they left the main hall which was located near the residences of the imperial family members, they noticed that the entire area was now well-illuminated with lanterns and electric lights. The golden hour had passed, and evening had settled over the estate.
Kylian and Wolfgang deliberately took a different path back to their residence this time, hoping to see more of the estate one final time before their departure tomorrow. As they walked past various private residences belonging to the imperial clan, they noted how peaceful everything appeared. One had to wonder, they thought, whether this tranquility was genuine or merely enforced by the Consort's iron grip over every aspect of estate life. They were now fully convinced it was the latter.
Kylian still had the listening device secure in his coat pocket. He was quite relieved and genuinely surprised that the Consort had never asked for its return, not even indirectly. Perhaps she considered it a small price to pay for the message she had delivered. Or perhaps she simply didn't care, she had made her point, and the device itself was meaningless now.
As they walked past the cluster of buildings where the imperial princesses resided, they happened to pass directly by Princess Changning's residence. Through the open doorway and paper screens, they could see her inside with her ladies-in-waiting. She appeared to be arranging and packing belongings, preparing for the journey to Beijing tomorrow. Captain Song Zhongwei stood guard outside her door, maintaining his vigilant watch as always.
They were all too occupied with their preparations to notice the two foreign officers passing by in the gathering darkness. But the instant they saw Song and the Princess safe and apparently untroubled, both officers felt a splash of profound relief wash over them.
Neither could speak a word to each other—not here, not so close to where they might be overheard. But they were both intensely grateful that this situation hadn't spiraled into something far worse. Song was still at his post. The Princess appeared calm and unharmed. Whatever the Consort knew or suspected, she apparently had not taken any action against them.
As Kylian and Wolfgang continued walking toward their own residence through the darkening estate, they allowed themselves to finally breathe a bit easier. Tomorrow they would leave this place.
But Kylian found his thoughts returning again and again to that brief glimpse of Princess Changning packing her belongings for the journey. Tomorrow they would travel together in the same convoy. Would she speak to him?
He knew the answer was no. The Consort's warning had been clear and unmistakable. Any further interaction beyond the most formal and necessary could bring consequences down not just on him, but on her, and that was something he could not risk.
Kylian allowed himself one final thought of her—of Princess Changning packing her belongings by lamplight, preparing for a journey that would take her back to the capital where her sister would marry a foreign prince to secure a peace that no one truly believed would last.
And then he pushed the thought away, locked it down, and focused on the practical matters of their own departure tomorrow. That was all he could do. That was all he dared to do.