Chapter Seventy-Three

The previous year had been exceptionally difficult, and just as the first hints of spring appeared, a fierce return of the cold struck with renewed force. The babies were barely three months old, and Banxia dared not take them outside, keeping them in the bedroom at all times. Both Gansui and Anzi would warm their hands carefully before holding the children. Infants were fragile; the slightest carelessness could lead to illness. Banxia spent even longer than usual tending to them, and the health she had regained during her confinement now visibly faded away day by day.

Gansui ran constantly between the front offices and the rear courtyard, sparing any moment he could to check in at home. Lately, he had been even busier. The cold snap had arrived so suddenly; fortunately, the townsfolk had reinforced their buildings in anticipation of heavy snow, but the real concern was the army camp. Living in tents in the wild was colder than any house, and now the bitter chill was relentless. Gansui and Deputy Commander Yu discussed adjustments to the training schedule and exercises, seeking to minimize the soldiers’ risk of injury from the cold. The Ministry of War had sent new padded winter jackets before the new year, and they seemed thick and sturdy. With everything meticulously arranged, Gansui finally felt a measure of relief, convinced that such precautions would prevent any disaster.

His relief, however, was premature. Before dawn the next morning, a rapid yet restrained knocking sounded at the door. Gansui woke with a start. Banxia was still asleep; he rose quietly. Peering outside, he saw heavy snow falling in great feathery flakes.

“What’s the matter, so urgent?” he asked as he walked.

“Deputy Commander Yu is here,” the attendant replied, “he says something serious has happened and needs you immediately.”

Yu was a calm and steady man, never one to panic easily—this was precisely why Lin Tianyu had left him to assist Gansui. If he declared something grave, it could not be trivial. Gansui hurried into the main hall, taking great strides.

Deputy Commander Yu was pacing anxiously. As soon as he saw Gansui enter, he hurried over. “My lord, something terrible has happened…”

“Don’t rush, sit down and speak slowly,” Gansui replied, handing him a cup of tea. Yu had no time for tea, blurting out, “My lord, last night’s heavy snow—over a dozen sentries froze to death in the camp!”

“How is that possible? The padded jackets were newly issued, thick enough to withstand the cold. Are you telling me they weren’t wearing them?”

Yu clenched his teeth. “It’s the jackets—the new ones. They’re deathtraps.”

Gansui was perplexed. Yu produced a large bundle, opening it to reveal one of the new jackets. The outer layer was a thin layer of cotton; inside, instead of proper padding, it was stuffed with finely shredded weeds. If not cut open, one would never notice the difference.

“The men stood no chance against the wind in these,” Yu continued, his eyes reddening. “They froze to death, just like that… over a dozen lives lost. How do I face their families?”

For a soldier, to fall in battle, wrapped in horse-hide, was far preferable to dying ignobly of the cold because of a coat.

“Come, let’s see the camp ourselves,” Gansui said at once, and together they hurried to the barracks. The atmosphere was wretched, grief hanging over every corner. Not long ago, these men had defended the city with their own flesh and blood; now, this was their reward, a chilling injustice.

Gansui gathered everyone in the open yard. “Soldiers, I know what you feel right now—I feel the same. Here and now, I swear to you: I will deliver the head of whoever supplied these provisions to answer for the dead.”

A bold voice from the ranks called out, “Spare us the grand promises, my lord. Everyone knows those in the Ministry of War are Marquis Wen’s confidants. With him shielding them, what chance do we have? Your words may comfort us, but in the end, nothing will come of it. To the powerful, we’re not even ants.”

Gansui did not take offense at the insolence. Instead, he replied, “Just wait and see. Decide for yourselves whether I speak mere words or can truly act. In one month, you will have your answer. For now, take care of yourselves; don’t let anger or recklessness ruin your health—do not give those scoundrels the satisfaction.”

He made a thorough inspection of the camp and contacted suppliers to rush in a batch of proper winter clothes. Immersed in work, time passed unnoticed, and it was dusk before he realized he hadn’t left the barracks all day.

“You weren’t at the yamen at all today—where did you go?” Banxia asked as she set dinner before him. Ever since the children were born, Gansui had grown more attached to home, always informing her before leaving.

“There was an emergency at the camp. I forgot to let you know. Were the children well-behaved? It’s been bitterly cold; don’t let them catch a draft.”

“I’ve been careful. Aunt Yang has been a great help—I think we should keep her on.”

“If you think so, that’s fine. It’s too much for you to care for two children on your own.” But as he remembered what had happened at the camp, Gansui found he had lost his appetite. Seeing his brows knit with worry, Banxia asked, “What’s wrong?”

“There’s too much trouble at the barracks. I need to write a memorial. Go ahead and eat; I’ll be back.” He hurried out. Banxia watched, puzzled, then told Madam He to prepare a midnight snack lest he grow hungry later.

Gansui remained in his study until well past midnight. Though the room was warmed by a roaring fire beneath the floor, he felt chilled to the bone. Only when he lay beside Banxia, holding her, did he finally sleep deeply.

Ten days later, in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the new Censor-in-Chief began his memorial.

“I, Wang Zhongliang, Chief Imperial Censor, present this memorial to impeach Minister of War Fang Lin for misappropriation of military funds and wanton disregard for human life.”

Only yesterday, Fang Lin had taken a sixteen-year-old concubine—a delicate, clever girl full of new tricks. The night had been spent in pleasure, so much so that he’d nearly been late this morning. Now, as he stood in court, dozing, he was abruptly tugged into alertness by a signal from Marquis Wen.

“Fang Lin, what do you have to say regarding Lord Wang’s accusation?” the Emperor asked.

Fang Lin hadn’t heard a word of the charge before, but realized instantly it could not be good. He knelt at once, crying, “Your Majesty, I am innocent!”

“Innocent? Then explain how.”

Fang Lin looked around, tongue-tied and unsure. Suddenly, Marquis Wen spoke up. “Your Majesty, Minister Fang has always been upright and diligent. There must be some misunderstanding. It is spring, after all, yet so many deaths have been reported from the Liangzhou barracks. Unless… I’ve heard the barracks are now managed by that young scholar, the one who topped the imperial exam a few years back. Inexperience is only natural. If a misstep led to deaths…”

“So you mean, Lord Wang is wrongfully accusing Minister Fang?”

“My lord is thousands of li from Liangzhou—he could easily have been misled.”

“That is precisely why I feared I might wrong Minister Fang,” Wang Zhongliang replied. “So I had all those involved in military supply detained and interrogated. The confessions are here—please, Your Majesty, examine them.”

A eunuch swiftly brought forward the statements. Emperor Qinanxing scanned the documents in a few heartbeats. Already, Fang Lin was trembling, sweat pouring down his face. Marquis Wen, seeing his composure failing, realized there was no point pleading further and instead fixed his gaze upon the jade wall in the hall, as if absorbed by its carved dragons.

“Excellent! My soldiers risk their lives to defend the realm, keeping our enemies at bay, and what do my ministers do? Scheme for profit—profiting, no less, from military provisions! Because of your greed, more than a dozen men survived battle only to die in the cold. A thousand deaths would not be enough for your crime!”

“Your Majesty, I truly did not know! The Ministry’s affairs are many; I cannot oversee everything myself. This must have been carelessness among my subordinates and a wicked supplier—I admit I failed in my duties, but I never intended harm, never!”

“I believe Minister Fang never meant for those men to die, or else those supplies would not have arrived in Liangzhou so late. Surely, you thought that with spring arriving, even if the jackets were subpar, no harm would come?”

“I—I did not…” But in truth, this was exactly what Fang Lin had thought. It wasn’t the first time he’d done such a thing; early spring and end-of-year supplies always came from different sources, allowing him to earn a considerable sum. Two years ago, some reckless fool had discovered the fraud and tried to report it, but otherwise, things had gone smoothly. The money was easy. He had never dared risk targeting places as cold as Liangzhou before, but this year the region had been sunny since the new year, so he took the chance—who could have foreseen such a harsh return of winter?

“Minister Fang has committed this crime more than once; only luck prevented disaster before,” Wang Zhongliang said, looking at Fang Lin with contempt. “This is intelligence sent from the Prefect of Lanzhou—a body was unearthed, and investigation revealed it belonged to the very man who discovered Fang Lin’s embezzlement and use of weeds as padding, and was silenced for it. All documents are here for Your Majesty’s perusal.”

Emperor Qinanxing finished reading and hurled the memorial at Fang Lin’s brow, drawing blood. Fang Lin dared not even wipe it away, blood streaming down his face as he kowtowed, weeping, “Your Majesty, spare me! I was merely confused for a moment… just a moment’s foolishness…”

“Fang Lin, Minister of War, embezzled military supplies, resulting in the deaths of my soldiers. He shall be executed after the autumn assizes. All adult males of the Fang family are to be beheaded. Those under thirteen exiled to the northern wastes. All females are to become state slaves. For five generations, no close kin may sit for the imperial exams.”

“Your Majesty, have mercy! Punish me as you wish, but spare my family. Have mercy…”

“Take him away.”

Fifteen days later, in Liangzhou.

Deputy Commander Yu delivered the imperial edict for punishment and consolation to the barracks, calling all companies together to study it.

Afterward, he sought out Gansui. “My lord, you’re truly remarkable—how did you persuade the Censor-in-Chief to speak up for us?”

“He’s an elder schoolmate of mine, a man of principle. He would never turn a blind eye to such a thing.”

“But the evidence was decisive—so conclusive it brought Fang Lin down in one stroke.”

“Walk by the river long enough, and your feet will get wet. Do wrong often enough, and you’ll slip up eventually.”

“It’s only a pity about the first man who discovered this. I heard his surname was Lin, called Lin You… His father was a magistrate in Yunzhou, I believe. What a tragedy—an old father burying his young son…”

“What was his name again?”

“Lin You… Do you know him, my lord?”

“He was… a very good friend of mine.”