The Shadow of the Empire Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  Also by Qiu Xiaolong

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Postscript

  Appendix

  Also by Qiu Xiaolong

  The Inspector Chen mysteries

  DEATH OF A RED HEROINE

  A LOYAL CHARACTER DANCER

  WHEN RED IS BLACK

  A CASE OF TWO CITIES

  RED MANDARIN DRESS

  THE MAO CASE

  YEARS OF RED DUST (short story collection)

  DON’T CRY, TAI LAKE

  THE ENIGMA OF CHINA

  SHANGHAI REDEMPTION

  HOLD YOUR BREATH, CHINA *

  BECOMING INSPECTOR CHEN *

  INSPECTOR CHEN AND THE PRIVATE KITCHEN MURDER *

  * available from Severn House

  THE SHADOW OF THE EMPIRE

  Qiu Xiaolong

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First world edition published in Great Britain in 2021 and the USA in 2022

  by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd,

  14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE.

  Trade paperback edition first published in Great Britain and the USA in 2022

  by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd.

  This eBook edition first published in 2022 by Severn House,

  an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd.

  severnhouse.com

  Copyright © Qiu Xiaolong, 2021

  All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The right of Qiu Xiaolong to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-5081-2 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-0739-5 (trade paper)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-0738-8 (e-book)

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  This eBook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland

  In Memory of Wang Yuanlu

  This antique Huizhou writing brush

  of scarlet skunk tail came

  from Wang Yuanlu. A visiting scholar

  of the classical Chinese, too obsessed

  with the image of the brush tip

  softened on her moist tongue

  in Li Shangyin’s lines to pound

  on the unfeeling computer keyboard,

  he went back to China,

  asking me to keep the ineffable

  touch of a Tang Dynasty brush –

  ‘for inspiration …’

  ‘At his best, man is the noblest of all animals; separated from law and justice he is the worst.’

  – Aristotle

  ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

  Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’

  – William Shakespeare

  ‘Life is like a dream –

  I pour out a chalice of wine

  To the moon in the river.’

  – Su Shi

  ONE

  ‘Honorable Judge Dee …’

  Dee Renjie, the newly appointed Imperial Circuit Supervisor of the Tang Empire, put down the routine report that had been submitted to him earlier in the day, stroking his white-streaked beard and shaking his head reflectively, as if at someone sitting opposite him across the rough, unpainted wooden table in the room of a dilapidated hostel. The hostel was located on the outskirts of Chang’an, the grand capital of the Tang Empire.

  Dee was no judge. For the moment, however, he had no objection to people addressing him as such. It sounded far less impressive, further away from the center of the imperial power, though he was in no mood to do anything judge-like whatsoever in the midst of the ferocious political infighting around the throne.

  In various official positions during his long, checkered official career, Dee had found himself involved, from time to time, in investigations – even when serving as the prime minister or in other high-ranking official positions. In the Tang system, he had to serve, more often than not, as a multifunctional official with both the executive and judicial powers combined in one position. As he had solved a number of sensitive political cases that had proven to be too difficult for others, people had chosen to simply call him Judge Dee.

  In the days of the increasingly fierce power struggle at the imperial court, the title ‘judge’ had somehow turned into a neutral one, acceptable both to the Wu and the Li factions at the top, he reflected in the trembling candlelight, folding his hands around a cup of lukewarm Dragon Well tea.

  The edge of the cup appeared, all of a sudden, to be sharply dented. Rubbing his eyes, he touched it gingerly with his lips in the dimness of the room. He felt so fatigue-laden, not just with the trip that had hardly started but with a lot of other things as well.

  For his newly appointed position, Judge Dee had to travel out of the capital to another province, and then still to another. He had left his residence at the center of Chang’an in the morning, and he was now staying incognito for the night at the hostel. The official rank of a circuit supervisor might not have appeared very low to others, but it came as a subtle demotion to him. The Empress Wu had decided to get Judge Dee out of the capital – at least for a short while – with the two factions being engaged in a cut-throat political battle at the pinnacle of power.

  Judge Dee had been swept into it because of a memorial he had recently made to the empress, who was debating with herself as to whether her nephew, Internal Minister Wu of the Wu family, or Prince Li, her son with the late emperor of the Li family, would be officially designated as the successor to the throne of the Tang Empire. Like other Confucian scholar-turned-officials, Judge Dee found unacceptable the idea that an imperial concubine-turned-empress would contrive to have someone from the Wu family chosen as the successor for the throne of the Li family, and argued that it was in the time-honored orthodox tradition for the supreme ruler to pick the successor in the son, rather than in the nephew, for the sake of a legitimate, peaceful, and uncontroversial power transition for the empire. While the empress had long regarded Dee as one of the capable, honest officials she could trust, she was nonetheless upset with his bookish argument based on the orthodox Confucian discourse.

  To make things worse, the prince happened to have been caught in a scandalous affair with a palace lady. Because of the opposition of old-fashioned officials like Judge Dee, the empress reluctantly agreed not to disown the prince there and then, but she wanted him out of the capital temporarily.

  And Judge Dee’s new official post e
ntailed his traveling out of Chang’an.

  Was that a coincidence?

  Lost in thought against the flickering candlelight by the western window of the hostel room, Dee tried not to dwell too much on politics, staring absentmindedly at the blurred reflection of his worn-out self in the bronze mirror.

  Again, it started drizzling outside. The small pool in the back of the hostel appeared to be swelling with the memories of those bygone days. A couple of half-forgotten lines were coming back to his mind in the somberness of the room.

  A candle trembling against the night rain, / you travel across rivers and lakes, year after year …

  He would not be able to fall asleep any time soon. It was perhaps just another sign of the onset of old age, he supposed. Still, it appeared to be a quiet and peaceful night, far away from the sordid politics at the imperial court.

  Who could tell whether he might come to feel nostalgic, months or years later, about this tranquil moment sitting alone by the hostel window?

  He turned back to the reports until a faint drowsiness began creeping over him, suggesting he might finally be ready for bed. Suddenly, out of the darkness, a flash shot swishing through the paper pane of the window, sweeping over in a curve, and striking deep into the old rough wood pillar – just inches from the pile of books on the table he was sitting at – before he could have said or done anything. Surprised, he knocked the teapot from the table as he turned around in a hurry, causing a smashing sound.

  Stealthy, hurried footsteps immediately seemed to become audible outside, and then heavy, hurried steps from another direction brought in his long-time attendant/assistant Yang Rong from another hostel room.

  ‘What happened, Master?’ Yang said, standing in the doorway, still breathless, barely dressed – he slept naked, a habit formed from his childhood in a poor village of Shandong Province.

  As it turned out, the flash had come from a small but sharp knife thrown in from outside and struck into the wooden pillar just above the books on the table – along with a bamboo paper note pinned underneath its pointed tip. It had come within inches of hitting him.

  Yang moved to yank out the knife forcefully and spread out the note on the table for Judge Dee.

  The note represented a single line written in bold brush strokes.

  A high-flying dragon will have something to regret!

  ‘What the devil does that mean, Master?’

  ‘It’s the name of a particular hexagram in the Book of Changes. When used as a sign in the practice of fortune telling, it means that people in high positions with soaring ambitions could suffer a turn of luck and have something to regret.’

  ‘Something to regret. Hold on – is it meant as a warning for you?’

  Without waiting for an answer, Yang picked up the knife again and examined it closely under the candlelight. It was extremely sharp. He placed a hair across the knife edge, which instantly cut the hair in two.

  ‘This small knife is a precious one. Look at its hilt inlaid with no less than seven gemstones. It must have cost a small fortune,’ Yang muttered. ‘It could not have been thrown into your room as a practical joke.’

  ‘No, but I don’t think the note is necessarily meant for me. I’m far from having a high position at the present moment. As the saying goes, I’m more like a homeless dog running around looking for shelter.’

  ‘You don’t have to say that, Master. The new post may not appear to be as high as before, but the empress trusts you more than anybody else under the sun. Her Majesty may simply want you to enjoy a much-needed break and travel around for a short while, before some more important work is assigned to you.’

  ‘Come on, Yang. For a man of my age, I want nothing more than a book with a cup of hot tea at home for a peaceful night. But you don’t have to worry about the note. Go back to your room, Yang. It’s past midnight.’

  Instead, Yang scooped up a blanket draped over the arm of the other chair, wrapped himself in it, staring at the knife note, and kept on shaking his head like a rattle drum.

  ‘No, the knife thrower – whoever or whatever he might be – did not want you to have a quiet night here. It must have come as a dire message for you, Master.’

  As always, Yang was worrying – probably too much – for his master. Yang had been like that from the day he became Judge Dee’s attendant/assistant and self-styled bodyguard.

  Judge Dee was no less disturbed by the knife message; however, he tried to dispel Yang’s uneasiness.

  ‘We left just this morning. I decided to stay at this hostel on the spur of the moment, and we did not even register under our real names. How could the knife thrower possibly have known our whereabouts for the night? Perhaps it’s simply a case of mistaken identity.’

  Judge Dee chose not to discuss with Yang the possibility that they had been followed from their residence in the center of the capital all the way to the shabby hostel on its outskirts. He failed to figure out why people would have shadowed him like that and then thrown the ominous knife note. It did not add up. Still, he could not rule out the possibility.

  ‘But it’s a knife thrown with such accuracy – straight to the pillar beside you. And such a gem-decked knife, too. It’s definitely a job done by a pro,’ Yang said stubbornly. ‘How could he have been wrong about the recipient of the message?’

  ‘As I’ve mentioned, such a message is commonly given in terms of divination. As an ancient classic, the Book of Changes is a philosophical book of profound depth in its miraculous exploration of changes in the universal yin/yang system, but I do not believe in its application for fortune telling. So why bother?’

  ‘How does that work for divination, Master?’

  ‘I don’t have the proper tools with me for a demonstration, but I can humor you with the help of copper coins,’ he said, taking several coins out of his pocket. ‘Heads and tails, you know. The result of your throws – in other words, the combination of heads and tails – make up the lines for yin and yang in a hexagram, and then you may consult the book for the meaning of that particular hexagram.’

  ‘Please enlighten me, Master. I’m intrigued.’

  Judge Dee threw the coins a couple of times, recorded the number of heads and tails in sequence, and then turned to take out the Book of Changes for its meaning.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, quite a surprise. A hidden dragon should be careful in its movement.’

  ‘And its meaning?’

  ‘At this stage, it’s too early for the dragon to move about, so it won’t hurt to stay put.’

  ‘Another dragon! Too many mysterious coincidences for one night, Master,’ Yang said, looking ghastly pale.

  ‘Come on, you’re worrying yourself sick for nothing, Yang. There’s also a dragon in your nickname, isn’t there? Go back to sleep in your room. It’s late. And I’m getting really sleepy.’

  Yang rose slowly with reluctance. He opened his mouth without managing to say anything. There was no disobeying his master.

  As luck would have it, however, a loud, insistent knock on the door abruptly broke through the stillness of the night.

  As Yang moved to open the door, Judge Dee hurried to put the knife and the note underneath a folder.

  A middle-aged man in a gray cotton robe stood in the doorway, carrying a large envelope in his hand. He turned out to be a special messenger from Internal Minister Wu, Empress Wu’s nephew, also the most powerful member of the Wu faction.

  ‘Your Excellency’ – the messenger knelt down in front of Judge Dee – ‘Minister Wu knows that you are leaving the capital. He really admires your extraordinary talent as a judge, as you know, so he wants me to bring this special case report over to you tonight – the case report he has just received this afternoon of the sensational murder committed by Xuanji about ten days ago.’

  ‘The sensational murder committed by the well-known poetess Xuanji?’

  Judge Dee was more than surprised. It appeared to be somewhat unconventional for a pow
erful man like Minister Wu to consult about a murder case with a newly appointed circuit supervisor who was leaving the capital. A considerable number of officials under the powerful minister could have easily looked into the investigation of the case for him.

  Not to mention the fact that Minister Wu had long considered Judge Dee as one of his arch-opponents at the court. His recent memorial to the empress was commonly seen as a deliberate effort to thwart the minister’s attempt to change the dynasty of the Li family to that of the Wu family. They both knew this only too well. In fact, Dee’s latest appointment was suspected by many to have been a result of the conspiracy pushed by Minister Wu. It was a well-calculated removal of the obstacle in his path to the supreme power of the Tang Empire.

  ‘Her Majesty wants me to take over the new post as soon as possible, so I set out early this morning,’ Dee said slowly without pulling out the case report. ‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid I cannot afford to tarry around here.’

  ‘The minister says that the case is becoming such a sensational one, involving not only a celebrated poetess, but a number of well-known men of letters, too. And people are talking about it as a case symbolic of the moral decline in today’s empire. Your help will be crucial in ensuring a quick conclusion of the case in the interest of maintaining political stability for the Empire. You may need to spend just a couple of days taking a quick look into the case. It won’t interfere at all with your reporting to the new post on time.’

  So saying, the messenger remained kneeling on the ground. Apparently, Minister Wu had been well informed of Judge Dee’s whereabouts, and of the deadline for him to report to his new official post, too.

  ‘Minister Wu may have a point, I think. It is a sensational case indeed. So I’ll spend a couple of days more here, but no longer, and not as a judge – I have to make that clear. I’ll see what I can do as a sort of a private consultant, and I’ll keep your master informed.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Your Excellency.’

  Much relieved, the messenger kowtowed, rose, and left like the wind.