Chapter 27: Hearing the Voice Again

The next morning broke with the sun already blazing high in the sky.

Liu Jin rinsed his mouth with willow twigs and instructed the servants at the Crown Prince’s palace, "Find time to make me a toothbrush. Take clean hog bristles, bind them together, and find a way to fix them firmly to one end of a wooden sliver."

Once he was certain the servant understood his request, he dressed formally and headed toward the Weiyang Palace. Just as he had the day before, upon arriving outside the Xuan Shi Hall, he bowed to the eunuch Su Wen and said, "Please, inform the Imperial Grandfather that his grandson requests an audience."

Su Wen approached Emperor Wu, who sat behind a screen. He often wondered why, whenever the Imperial Grandson arrived, His Majesty always deliberately maintained a distance to preserve an air of mystery.

"Let him enter."

"Yes!"

Liu Jin entered the hall, bowing respectfully. Emperor Wu remained seated behind the screen, visible only as a faint shadow. Liu Jin dared not gaze directly at him; he kept his head lowered and bowed, saying, "Your grandson pays his respects to the Imperial Grandfather."

"Speak."

The tone was majestic, devoid of any warmth. The Xuan Shi Hall remained as frigid as ever, and Emperor Wu as mysterious and solemn.

Before arriving, Liu Jin had already prepared his defense for his father. He steadied his nerves, striving to remain neither servile nor defiant, and spoke slowly: "Imperial Grandfather, my father’s request to waive the taxes in Guanzhong for half a year was not intended as a deliberate act of defiance against you during the court assembly. He had submitted a memorial regarding this matter previously, but as you had not yet issued a rescript, he felt compelled to—"

"Are you suggesting this is my fault?"

From behind the screen, Emperor Wu cut him off. His voice was cold, carrying three parts anger and seven parts interrogation. It was laden with indisputable authority and a chilling sense of alienation. It was a stark contrast to the kinder, lighter tone he sometimes adopted, leaving one unable to discern his true mood.

After speaking, he felt a twinge of reluctance. He feared the boy might crumble under such pressure; treating his own grandson with the same tactics he used on his ministers was perhaps not entirely appropriate. Yet, if the boy was to grow, this was necessary. He had to understand what imperial majesty meant, what it was to be the Son of Heaven, and how to govern subordinates and address his ministers.

Liu Jin took a deep breath and bowed. "Imperial Grandfather, I do not mean to say it is your fault. I only fear that you may have misunderstood my father. Perhaps, for various reasons, the memorial did not reach your eyes. My father, knowing how busy you are, dared not disturb you privately, and it was this sequence of unfortunate events that led to the misunderstanding."

In truth, he heard the dissatisfaction and irritation in Emperor Wu’s voice, yet he persisted without retreating.

"Various reasons?" Emperor Wu interrupted again.

Liu Jin replied, "Perhaps because you were weary, or the memorials had piled up, or perhaps it simply had not yet reached your desk for review."

He stopped short of suggesting that someone had intercepted the memorial and deceived the Emperor. Such were the actions of a petty man, and having no hard proof, he would only appear to be sowing discord, which would be shameful. He had provided the hint; he trusted Emperor Wu would understand the implication. Why stoop to the level of a villain, whispering behind others' backs and inviting the Emperor's disgust?

A faint, imperceptible smile touched Emperor Wu’s lips. The boy was quite sharp; he knew exactly what could be said and what could not.

"Hmm." Emperor Wu grunted deeply. "Submit another memorial."

Liu Jin was puzzled. "Ah? Me? Very well, I shall return and draft it immediately."

There was no further response from behind the screen. Liu Jin bowed with cupped hands and said, "I take my leave."

Leaving the Xuan Shi Hall, the crushing pressure lifted. Though he had still not seen the Emperor’s face, each visit made Liu Jin feel as if his fate were in another’s hands—a stifling sensation, as if a single word from the man could end his life. Even though this was his grandfather, and even though he did not truly believe the Emperor would execute him without cause, the bone-chilling cold and suffocating weight of the hall always left him unsettled. It was no wonder his father often remarked that the Imperial Grandfather was not an easy man to deal with.

Though Emperor Wu had spoken only a few words, each one had set his heart racing. Was this the weight of imperial authority and the absolute, unassailable arrogance cultivated over fifty years of ruling? Every time he spoke, one could feel the power to control life and death, the gaze of a man who looked down upon all creation.

*It is far more comfortable and relaxed dealing with Old Man Qiu... Well, of course, a commoner, how could he compare to the ruler of the Great Han?* Liu Jin smiled to himself. *But what did he mean by telling me to write another memorial?*

Unable to fathom the Emperor’s thoughts, he quickened his pace toward the Changle Palace.

Inside the Xuan Shi Hall, Emperor Wu sat kneeling before his desk, habitually stroking a smooth bronze peach. The smile on his face deepened. He was satisfied with all of Liu Jin’s responses today. If the boy had simply acted like the young man from the countryside, he would have learned nothing. The boy’s performance was truly excellent: neither servile nor defiant, his speech fluent and logical even under such pressure.

*This is how a man of the Liu family should be!* Emperor Wu’s expression was complex; his expectations for Liu Jin went far beyond this.

"Your subject pays respects to Your Majesty."

Du Zhou walked in, bowing. After Liu Jin had left, Emperor Wu had already ordered him to be summoned.

"Investigate for me: is there a memorial from the Crown Prince that was never delivered?"

Emperor Wu had clearly heard Liu Jin’s words. He was not yet senile; the boy was clearly telling him that someone had intercepted the太子's memorial. He wanted to see who had the audacity to do such a thing!

"Yes!"

The Censor-in-Chief, Du Zhou, bowed and departed. It was destined to be a fruitless search. Liu Quli was no fool; after the court assembly at Jianzhang Palace, he had delivered the memorial to the Emperor’s desk. The final result would only show that Emperor Wu had overlooked the memorial himself and failed to issue a rescript.

...

Just as Liu Jin left the Weiyang Palace, he saw Gongsun Jingsheng walking out. His brows furrowed. He called out to him, demanding, "Cousin, what were you doing in the palace?"

He had already cleaned up one mess for him; he did not want to do it again. It was repulsive.

"I... this..."

Liu Jin’s expression darkened. "Are you having an affair with one of the princesses?"

Gongsun Jingsheng’s eyes widened, and he said excitedly, "How could that be? I don't have that kind of courage. It was just a little maidservant."

Liu Jin felt a slight sense of relief, but still said displeasedly, "Everything in the inner palace belongs to the Imperial Grandfather, do you not know this? Do you have any idea what the consequences will be if this is discovered?"

"Do not let this happen again. Cut off all contact, and do not commit any illegal or illicit acts."

"Cousin, we are family, which is why I am speaking to you so kindly. Let there not be a third time, understand?"

For some reason, Gongsun Jingsheng caught a glint of murderous intent in Liu Jin’s eyes. He hurriedly replied, "I promise!"