Chapter 302

The memorials delivered to the commander's tent were flipped through swiftly by the commander. After reading, he fell silent, staring at the map. Lately he had been pressing the attack relentlessly, but in doing so had overlooked the fleeing emperor of the Kou Kingdom. He wondered whether that man might, as Li Linshan had guessed, have hidden himself on the Bang Kingdom's shores or on one of those islands Great Liang had always dismissed as insignificant. The commander handed the memorials to the Fourth Prince, who served as the army's supervisor. Whether to pursue the fleeing emperor of Kou was something the Fourth Prince would have to decide.

The Fourth Prince looked over the memorials, asked who had sent them, then slapped them with his palm and declared, "Pursue—pursue we must. And we must capture him alive. I will lead the pursuit myself." The commander, hearing this, glanced at the Fourth Prince but suppressed the words of objection rising in his throat. Though he was a blunt man, he was not without sense. The Fourth Prince had accompanied the army for one purpose alone: to earn military merit. The commander weighed the matter at length, then agreed to the Fourth Prince's request, dispatching ships and a company of elite troops to accompany him in capturing the fleeing emperor of Kou.

When Li Linshan received the letter, he said nothing. The deputy commanders under him now understood his intentions as well. They had not come here seeking battle honors; all they needed was to do their duty. In the capital, how many people wished the Fourth Prince would never ascend the throne, prattling on about legitimacy and bloodlines? They conveniently forgot that the current emperor himself was not born of the legitimate line. Those hopping mad in opposition were merely a pack of stubborn old fossils looking for trouble, cloaking themselves in the banner of "acting for your own good" while calculating their own private gains. Were they not simply eyeing the vacant harem, scheming to install a new empress? No one was a fool. Everyone could see that the Fourth Prince's rise could only benefit the Li family. Gifting the war merit to the Fourth Prince was far more advantageous than claiming it themselves.

In the capital, the emperor summoned several military commanders, his expression quite grim. He was in the middle of campaigning against Kou; now the western border was stirring, hoping to profit from the chaos—they'd best consider whether they had the ability. They had never gained an advantage before, and now they would gain even less. The war-minded emperor did not summon civil officials. He could already imagine the literati droning on about offending heaven and harming harmony, with some even proposing a withdrawal of troops from Kou, and quite likely seizing the opportunity to suggest cuts to the military. To spare himself the frustration, the emperor exempted the civil officials from participation.

When the civil officials heard that the order flag had entered the capital without the emperor summoning them, all manner of speculation arose. The foremost theory was defeat in the campaign against Kou. Some officials began harboring ambitions: they composed memorials denouncing those who had originally advocated attacking Kou, hungrily scheming to displace them. Others watched cautiously, even sending men to observe what the imperial merchant was up to.

Wang Xiujin was not busy with much. After touring his various properties, he went to pester the Fifth Prince. The greatest arena in all of Great Liang—indeed, one might say the greatest in the world—had been completed. If one viewed it from a high vantage point, its exterior resembled a lotus blossom. It was said the petals could close when it rained; whether that was true, Wang Xiujin had never verified. Drinking the Fifth Prince's fine tea, Wang Xiujin could not taste what made it so special. The Fifth Prince spoke of this year's athletic games, and Wang Xiujin had no particularly brilliant suggestions, merely pointing out a few spots where they could sell water, fruit, and snacks.

The Fifth Prince thought it over and found the idea feasible. He was no ethereal immortal who needed no worldly sustenance; naturally, he required silver to provide bonuses for the arena's staff. He mused that it would not do to profit only during the games—they ought to host events regularly.

Wang Xiujin proposed various chess tournaments—Chinese chess, Go—and also storytelling contests, opera competitions, and the like. Let the common folk vote for their favorites, rank them first, second, third, and award them a token plaque. Chess and Go tournaments would yield modest earnings, but storytelling and opera events could charge admission and sell assorted goods—the profits would be substantial.

"Would that not lower our dignity?" The Fifth Prince was somewhat tempted, yet retained a touch of aristocratic reserve.

"This is what they call 'catering to both refined and popular tastes.' How would that lower one's dignity? Opera lovers are a vast crowd. We could set up a few private boxes—even the ladies of the inner courtyards could attend without trouble." Wang Xiujin did not consider this a debasement of status at all. How exhausting it was to be an ancient person. As long as money was made honestly, not through fraud or swindling but by fair means, why be so particular?

The Fifth Prince found the reasoning sound and resolved that once the games concluded, he would first hold the chess tournaments. Storytelling could be skipped, but the opera competition deserved a proper elevation.

Having offered his counsel, Wang Xiujin sat a while longer, then decided to take his leave. Exiting the arena, he wandered about idly before heading toward the Censorate. The household servants trailing Wang Xiujin all along the way observed the imperial merchant's demeanor—he did not look like a man whose family was in trouble. That air of leisure could not be feigned. The servants hurried back to report to their masters. The officials who had sent them, after hearing the reports, made no move, content to wait and watch the fools make spectacles of themselves.

Wang Xiujin returned to the estate with his son. His grandfather had already come home, but his father and second uncle were absent. By dinner, the two had still not returned. Recalling what his attendant had said, Wang Xiujin guessed that someone in the family would soon be going off to war again. Sure enough, the morning after the next court session, an imperial messenger bearing a decree arrived at the General's Estate. His second uncle, who had just returned, was appointed army supervisor, marching to the western border—though the supreme commander would be General Song.

Once again, Wang Xiujin gathered grain and sent clothing; this time the garments were thicker than before, padded with cotton. The western frontier was no warm place, and no one knew how long this war would last. The Ministry of Revenue prepared the provisions with remarkable speed, terrified of being beaten to it by the imperial merchant—they had learned their lesson.

Amid his bustling labors, Wang Xiujin remained unaware that at court, the emperor, in a fury, had ordered several officials caned in the hall. At the time nothing seemed amiss, but one of them, carried home after the flogging, passed away the very next day. His family dared not hold an elaborate funeral, nor did they dare have the children petition for an official post—they could only bury him quietly. Those who had once been close to him now kept their distance, not even entertaining the thought of offering relief.

When Lord Wang heard of the man's death, he recalled that when his youngest son had been injured, that official had sent gifts. Though the man was gone, etiquette could not be neglected, so he sent word to his youngest son. Wang Xiujin listened and said nothing, merely instructing Manager Wang to take a hundred taels to the household. After that, he never asked about it again.

When word of Wang Xiujin's gesture reached the emperor, he sighed and remarked that Wang Xiujin was truly a man of great kindness—others wished to destroy him and the Li family utterly, yet he still sent them a hundred taels. The emperor shook his head and dispatched an attendant to the official's household. If they were a family that understood gratitude, he would find them a sinecure.

Wang Xiujin, of course, had no idea that the man had been scheming against him behind his back; had he known, he would never have sent the money. After days of labor, he at last prepared the grain and clothing. This time, Manager Wang was again dispatched to deliver them directly to the mustering point of the army.

A month after the army departed, another order flag entered the capital. This time the news was good: the Fourth Prince and his men had captured the emperor of Kou alive and would soon escort him to the capital. Hearing this, the emperor repeatedly exclaimed "Excellent," his smile impossible to conceal. If the ministers still did not understand, they were fools. The Fourth Prince's position was unassailable, and those who harbored designs on filling the emperor's harem could set their ambitions to rest.

When Wang Xiujin heard the news, he said nothing, merely worrying about Li Linshan. He thought he would ask the Fourth Prince in detail about Li Linshan's condition once he returned to the capital. But he waited and waited—the emperor of Kou was escorted into the capital, yet the Fourth Prince did not return. Making inquiries at the city gate, he learned that the Fourth Prince had boarded a warship and sailed back to the Kou front. Wang Xiujin sighed inwardly; no news was, perhaps, not bad news.

In the court, a fresh argument broke out over how to handle the emperor of Kou. The emperor, likely in high spirits, did not put a stop to the squabbling. Those who had not joined the fray watched it as entertainment, returning home to retell it all as amusement.

Another month passed in the blink of an eye. The capital's academy athletic games opened once more. Every academy was rubbing its hands in eager anticipation, hoping to make a brilliant showing and outshine Xinlou Academy—perhaps even draw the princes' attention to their school. As the head of Xinlou Academy, Wang Xiujin was obliged to attend on the first day. The moment Xinlou Academy's students appeared, they drew the gaze of every other academy: first for their uniforms, and second for their perfectly synchronized steps.

Wang Xiujin had expanded upon his concept of the school uniform. The students wore matching attire embroidered with the characters "Xinlou Academy," identical shoes on their feet, and even identical feathered crowns upon their heads. The emperor, watching from the main platform, laughed heartily and remarked that Wang Xiujin truly knew how to put on a show—he estimated that next year all the academies would be copying such uniforms.

"Father, Xinlou Academy has more than just this one set. The outfits they wear for competitions are identical as well. From thick padded coats to short training garb, all of it is uniform, down to the patterns." The Fifth Prince had seen these before, so it came as no surprise. He suspected the emperor did not pay overly close attention to his younger brothers at the academies, and thus was unaware of Xinlou Academy's matching attire.

The emperor glanced toward Xinlou Academy but said nothing. That evening, however, upon returning to the palace, he summoned his younger sons to see what Xinlou Academy's uniforms looked like.

The uniforms appeared the same, but the fabrics differed. After all, society was not one of equals, and Wang Xiujin had no wish to court death. He had invested great care in everything from workmanship to materials. Even if someone tried to make an issue of the clothing, Wang Xiujin was unafraid. As it happened, throughout those days, no one did raise the matter of the uniforms, and Wang Xiujin breathed a small sigh of relief. It was not that there were no schemers after him—it was that the emperor, upon seeing his sons' uniforms, had already heard them mention how the fabrics differed. The emperor praised Wang Xiujin's thoughtfulness and meticulousness, and even remarked at court that no one ought to go looking for trouble.

Only after the games concluded did Wang Xiujin learn of this from his father. He breathed easier, resolving to visit Xinlou Academy one day to thank the princes who had spoken up for him.

After the lively games came to an end, a passion for Go swept through the capital. Anyone who considered his skill passable flocked to the arena to register—if not to compete for first place, then at least to make friends over the game board. Just as the Go tournament was about to begin, the order flag, unseen for a long time, appeared once more in the capital. At the grain shop, Wang Xiujin was checking the accounts with Manager Wang when a clerk came running in. "Boss, there's news! The troops attacking Kou are returning home in triumph."