Yuanyou fourth year, early fourth month. After the witchcraft case was closed, the Empress Dowager gave Zhao Xu a new assignment—assisting in managing the Imperial City Bureau. Not a nominal position, but actually going to sit at the office. When the young eunuch came bearing word, his eyes were bright: "The Empress Dowager said, His Majesty is grown, should learn to manage affairs. At the Imperial City Bureau, go half a day every day from now on. The Grand Tutor's lessons moved to afternoon."
When Zhao Xu received the decree, his hand was steady. But I saw his mouth corners move—not a smile, but that of "finally here," taut, slightly trembling curve.
The first day he went to the Imperial City Bureau, he changed clothes. Not his usual wide-sleeved everyday robe, but the Imperial City Bureau official uniform—crimson, narrow sleeves, cinched waist, a silver plaque hanging from the leather belt. He stood before the bronze mirror, tying the belt himself, couldn't tie it for a long time. I walked over to help him tie it. He lowered his head to look at me; I raised my head to look at him. He was already a full head taller than me; when I raised my head, my neck would slightly ache.
"Good-looking?"
"Good-looking."
"Where good-looking?"
"Everywhere good-looking."
His ears reddened, but didn't dodge, mouth corners slightly raised. The bronze mirror reflected his appearance—crimson clothes, silver plaque, waist straight and tall. His shoulders filled out the clothes very flat, no longer that empty look of last year. Jawline sharp, Adam's apple protruding, collar slightly open, revealing a small section of collarbone. He stood there, like a blade just sharpened.
"Let's go."
The Imperial City Bureau was at the southeast corner of the palace city, two walls away from the Inner Kitchen. When I passed by before, I only felt that black-painted door was gloomy, two guards in black clothes standing at the door, expressionless, like two stone statues. When Zhao Xu walked in, the guards at the door knelt to salute. His footsteps didn't stop, only said "Rise." Voice not loud, but heavy and steady. That heaviness, not forced out, but knowing where one should stand.
That afternoon, when Zhao Xu returned, his expression wasn't good. He sat on the stone bench in the Imperial Garden, looking up at the bare osmanthus tree, saying nothing.
"What is it?"
"A case," he said, "A minor official from the Ministry of Revenue, reported for private communication with Western Xia. In the dossier there was witness, physical evidence, looked like ironclad proof. But when I asked him, he said he was wronged." He paused, "When he spoke, he kept looking at me. Eyes didn't dodge."
"Then what do you think?"
"I think he's wronged. But—but I have no evidence. Imperial City Bureau people said, this kind of case, better to kill wrongly than let go. The Empress Dowager also said, in extraordinary times, must use extraordinary methods." He lowered his head, "I don't know what to do."
I looked at him. He sat on the stone bench, crimson clothes not yet changed, silver plaque flashing dark red light in the sunset. His shoulders slightly slumped, like someone carrying too heavy a burden.
"Do you believe him?"
"Believe."
"Then investigate. Investigate until he's not wronged. Or investigate until he truly is wronged."
"But—but Imperial City Bureau people said, Western Xia matters cannot delay. The Empress Dowager also said, must close the case quickly."
"Then do you think, closing the case is important, or truth is important?"
He raised his head, looked at me. His eyes were very bright, with hesitation, with struggle, but one thing was clear—he didn't want to wrong someone.
"Truth is important."
"Then investigate."
The next day, Zhao Xu went to the Imperial City Bureau, brought out all the dossiers of that case, piled them on the long desk. Witness, physical evidence, testimony, all looked complete. That minor official was accused of meeting Western Xia envoys in a ruined temple outside the city on the third day of the second month. The accuser said he saw it with his own eyes. In the dossier was attached a letter, supposedly found from that official's home, handwriting similar to his, content reporting the court's salt law reform to Western Xia.
Zhao Xu flipped through the dossier once, then again. Each page read very slowly, brow furrowing tighter and tighter.
"What's wrong?"
"All complete. Witness, physical evidence, testimony, time, place, all match." He closed the dossier, "But I feel it's wrong."
"Where wrong?"
"He said he was working overtime at the Ministry of Revenue. No overtime record in the dossier. But—but if truly wronged, how could he have no alibi?"
I took the dossier, flipped to the testimony page. He said on the third day of the second month, he worked overtime from afternoon until late night at the Ministry of Revenue, the Ministry's entry-exit register should have his name. But no Ministry entry-exit register in the dossier.
"Go to the Ministry of Revenue to borrow the entry-exit register."
Zhao Xu nodded.
That afternoon, he went to the Ministry of Revenue. When borrowing the entry-exit register, the Ministry's chief hesitated a long time, said registers cannot be borrowed. Zhao Xu said: "I want to see." The chief paused, knelt down, offered the register with both hands.
Zhao Xu brought the register back to the Imperial City Bureau, flipped page by page. Flipped to the third day of the second month—you hour entered, hai hour exited. The person who signed was that official's superior. Characters proper, date and time all there. He pressed on that line, knuckles white.
"He truly was wronged."
When he said this, voice was very light. Not happy, but relieved. Like something carried for a long time, finally could be put down. But matters weren't so simple. The Ministry chief heard Zhao Xu had taken away the entry-exit register, the next day came to the Imperial City Bureau, said that day's signature was made up afterwards, cannot count. Zhao Xu asked him: "Who told you it cannot count?" The chief stammered, couldn't speak. Zhao Xu looked at him, looked for a long time.
"You go back. The register matter, I will investigate myself."
After the chief left, Zhao Xu sat before the desk, flipped through the register again. This time, he read even slower. Every signature, every date, every hour.
"The signature is real," he said, "But he said it was made up afterwards. If truly made up afterwards, why is the handwriting exactly the same? If truly made up afterwards, why is the ink depth the same as other pages?"
He raised his head, looked at me. "He was lying."
"Then what do you plan to do?"
"I want to find the Hanlin Academy's old gentleman, compare handwriting. Not only look at whether alike, but look at where not alike."
The Hanlin Academy's old gentleman was surnamed Sun, over sixty years old, a court specialist in handwriting. When Zhao Xu went to find him, he was copying calligraphy in his study. Hearing Zhao Xu's purpose, he set down his brush, took that letter and the register, looked for a long time.
"Your Majesty, this letter's handwriting, and the signature on the register, are from the same person."
Zhao Xu's eyes brightened. "You are certain?"
"Certain. The starting and ending strokes of this letter, both carry a habitual pause. Ordinary people imitating handwriting, can only imitate the character shape, cannot imitate this." He paused, "But the person who signed, not necessarily is the person who wrote the letter."
Zhao Xu paused. "What do you mean?"
"The person who signed, may have been forced. Or may have been deceived. What Your Majesty must investigate, is not only the handwriting, but also—who made him sign."
Zhao Xu returned to the Imperial City Bureau, called that official's superior. He sat before the desk, looking at that person. That person knelt on the ground, dared not raise his head.
"The signature on the register, you signed it?"
"Yes. Yes, this minister signed it."
"On the third day of the second month, was he truly working overtime at the Ministry of Revenue?"
That person was silent for a long time. Zhao Xu didn't urge him, only looked at him. After a long time, that person suddenly kowtowed, voice trembling: "Your Majesty, this minister—this minister was instigated by someone. That person said, as long as this minister signed this character, would give this minister five hundred taels of silver. This minister was momentarily confused..."
"Who instigated you?"
"This minister doesn't know. That person was masked, this minister didn't see clearly."
Zhao Xu looked at him, looked for a long time. Then said: "You may go."
That night, he came to find me. Sat on the stone bench in the Imperial Garden, moonlight shining on him, crimson clothes already changed, wearing everyday clothes.
"The person who signed was found, was instigated by someone. But the instigator wasn't found. The clue is broken."
"Then next step?"
"I want to investigate who wrote that letter. Old Gentleman Sun said, the letter and signature are from the same person. Then this person, must both be able to imitate that official's handwriting, and be able to make that superior listen to him." He paused, "This person, won't be a small character."
I looked at him. He sat in moonlight, brow slightly furrowed, but eyes very bright. The way he thought about things, was different from before. Before when he thought about things, he would pout, would frown, would rub his sleeve cuffs. Now he was just thinking. Quietly, steadily, like a deep pool.
"How do you plan to investigate?"
"Start from that superior. He received silver, silver will leave traces. From the silver's source, investigate the person behind."
"Good."
He stood up, walked to me. Moonlight shone from behind him, casting his shadow upon me.
"A Heng."
"Mm?"
"You have helped me much."
"Mm."
"In the future, I will help you."
He left. Took a few steps, turned back.
"Tomorrow, still come to the Imperial City Bureau. Help me investigate the silver's source."
"Good."
He smiled. That smile was faint, but a bit of light in his eyes. That light, like a candle swaying in wind for a long time, finally steadied.
That night, I wrote on the note: Today he wore crimson clothes. Very good-looking. Investigating case halfway, clue broken. He said, must investigate from the silver's source. Tomorrow, I will help him.
After writing, I tucked the note beneath my pillow. With those old notes. With that jade. With that wheat ear. And that silver plaque, he gave, engraved with the character "Investigate." Tomorrow, the Imperial City Bureau will have new difficulties. He will still come ask me. I will still help him. Keep helping until the day he doesn't need my help. That day will come. But I'm not anxious. Have plenty of time.
[End of Chapter 25]