Chapter 23: A Game of Chess

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The next morning, the vast plaza before the majestic Ming Palace lay under a boundless azure sky, not a single cloud in sight. The newly risen sun poured its light generously, driving away all traces of chill from the Eastern Capital. Today’s air seemed as fervent as the mood in the square itself. Beads of fine sweat appeared on the faces of the Dragon Guard and the Confucian scholars from the Academy, tasked with maintaining order. Owing to the unexpected upsets in yesterday’s Lantern Festival Imperial Examination, an especially large crowd had gathered to read the results. Before the Ming Palace, throngs of people from the capital and distant counties pressed together, their faces alight with excitement.

At the center of the square, an official from the Academy stood upon the stone steps, dressed in crimson scholarly robes, holding a scroll of yellow silk, and in a clear voice announced the names of the top thirty candidates in this year’s Lantern Festival Examination. With each name called, the cheers among the crowd grew louder, thundering skyward in tribute to the victors.

Unlike previous years, although many among the chosen hailed from the noble houses and academies of the Eastern Capital, they comprised only a third of the winners this time. Outstanding youths from the various counties had claimed many places, and several unexpected results had shocked the city.

According to the rites prescribed by the Ministry of Ceremonies, a grand procession was to follow, celebrating the scholars who had made the list. The successful candidates came forward in turn, each with his own expression—most beamed with joy, some maintained a calm as if such success was but natural, while a few seemed disappointed, dissatisfied with their rank.

Yet only twenty-nine scholars stood at the foot of the steps. Of the three from the Marquis Wang’s House, only one was present. Wang Weiyin was too seriously injured, still lying unconscious. For the century-old noble house of Wang, this was a deep humiliation. Wang Han had not made it into the top thirty, having been eliminated early on by Li Fu in the first round. Dressed in splendid furs, his expression calm and unruffled, Wang Han stood among the onlookers, watching Li Fu walk steadily toward the central steps. Not a flicker of emotion showed on his face, but beneath his cuffs, his fists clenched so tightly that veins stood out, betraying the anger and resentment within.

A specially crafted carriage stood at the east corner of the plaza. The twenty-nine selected scholars boarded it, and, surrounded by the masses, began their procession along Vermilion Bird Avenue, circling the city—a journey that would last half a day at least.

The entire Eastern Capital was caught up in a frenzy of celebration. Countless blossoms were cast upon the carriage from the crowd, as the twenty-nine inside nodded and bowed their thanks to the people.

...

In a certain pavilion within the city, the faint scent of ink and books lingered in the air. A half-faded ink painting hung at the center. A gentle breeze stirred, mingling with curling incense smoke. Two middle-aged men sat facing each other across a table. Out the northwest window, the procession of carriages carrying Li Fu and the others could be seen.

"Yesterday he participated in the Lantern Festival Examination in the palace. I never expected that the boy’s abilities would far exceed my imagination," remarked one of the men, refined in bearing, clad in snow-white robes.

He looked calmly at his companion and said, "Now that I think of it, this scene is much like our youth."

The face before him was as gentle as jade yet bore an unspoken authority. His eyes were deep and boundless, his demeanor steady and powerful—a man hardened by a hundred trials, yet marked by a heavy air of lethal resolve.

The man in gray gazed down at the stalemated chessboard and said, "Do you think the boy could ever rise to our level? I truly cannot fathom what that old drunk was thinking, sending him to the Eastern Capital just like that, making such a spectacle of it. Last night, messengers from the palace arrived, and before dawn, someone had already departed for Liangzhou."

"The Eastern Capital has been quiet for two centuries. That night fifteen years ago, the old drunk stirred up so much trouble. Even then, I sensed something was amiss. Now, looking back, he was right."

The white-robed man folded his hands behind his back, moved to the window to observe the somewhat awkward Li Fu amid the parade, and spoke indifferently: "Emperor Taizong erred, but even his last-minute contingency on his deathbed was too hasty. Perhaps he never imagined that the events before the Black Tortoise Gate would still echo through Great Tang to this day. Even though Lord Zhangsun managed to shift part of the balance by himself, the Emperor’s sudden passing rendered all subsequent plans void. Yet, that night two centuries ago, ‘his’ appearance reignited hope."

He turned to face the man in gray, his gaze steady. "But you changed your stance at the critical moment—not once, but twice. I cannot help but be wary of you."

The man in gray said nothing, his eyes still on the chessboard.

"But His Majesty... he is, after all, my brother," the man in gray finally said.

The pavilion fell silent, a world apart from the distant uproar on the main avenue.

After a long pause, the white-robed man spoke: "Then why has he placed spies at your side all these years? Why have you guarded yourself so stringently? And why did you ever share our plan with him?"

The man in gray replied, "You know how heartless the Imperial Family can be. Back then, I believed we were wrong. Our great-grandfather has been dead so long—who could truly know his intentions?"

"So that’s how it is? But never forget why he once resolved to kill those few. You know the Imperial Family’s nature. Had we not been so young, and enjoyed the old drunk’s protection, do you think the two of us would still be here, playing chess today?"

The white-robed man gestured toward the distant Ming Palace.

"In all these years, are you still blind to what he’s done? Favoring only his kin, bewitched in the harem by Shangguan Qian, half the court under the grip of the Shangguan clan. If this continues, her family will become a second Wu clan. Hasn’t the blood of Tang’s sons been spilled enough since the Shenwu era and the past two centuries? Do you truly wish for our empire to endure another age of darkness?"

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The white-robed man continued, "Or perhaps we should never have entered the Hall of Loyal Ministers in the first place."

At this, the gray-clad man’s eyes flickered. "Even if the secret of the Hall had not fallen to us, someone would have discovered it eventually. Enough, enough—you and the old drunk are both incorrigible. My days of leisure are clearly coming to an end. I admit defeat to you pair of madmen."

Hearing this, the white-robed man was quiet for a moment, then suddenly laughed aloud, "Are you speaking the truth?"

The man in gray shook his head, his face full of helplessness and self-mockery. "Otherwise, do you think I would idle away my time here playing chess with you, you hopeless player? Besides, I think the old drunk chose wrongly back then. Or perhaps, given the circumstances, there was simply no one else to choose."

The gray-clad man placed a black stone on the board. "Huilong Town, you’ve lost." Then, changing the subject, he added, "Still, it’s lucky the old drunk didn’t pick me. Otherwise, I’d have long since cast off my cap and fled that snarling throne. That chair is far too hard for my taste."

The white-robed man laughed heartily. "With your temperament, not even being tied to that seat would keep you there long."

The man in gray stood up, stretched lazily, and put the black stone back in the box. "You returned early, which has greatly displeased His Majesty. And what happened last night at Third Cross Street will be tricky to handle. But I doubt you’re worried. There is one matter, though: although your victory in the northern frontier came in just three months, last year you forcibly levied taxes from the south for military expenses. That debt will not be easily overlooked. The Shangguan family and the Marquis of Valor will seize this chance to cut you down."

"No matter," replied the white-robed man, frowning at the board. "At worst, I’ll relinquish some inconsequential military power. No one will dare move against the Palace of Strategic Command for now. Still, I lost after all?"

...

...

By midday, the procession organized by the Ministry of Ceremonies had finally ended. The trio returned to the Palace of Strategic Command. After a brief wash, Li Fu was half-dragged away by Yang Zixu, leaving the academy behind.