Chapter 31 - Wei Zheng (14:00-14:59) Part 5

Chapter 31: Wei Zheng (14:00-14:59) Part 5

Translator: DragonRider

There was a taboo for polo game in Chang’an. Back to the time when Emperor Zhongzong was on the throne, the present Emperor had once crushed against the stand because of rush riding, breaking the neck of his beloved horse and wounding several young masters of noble families. Ever since then neither stand nor canopies were allowed to set by the field. Only temporary tents were set for ladies to enjoy the show and for riders to change or rest.

The well-dressed rider went straight back to his tent and dismounted his horse, immediately greeted by a footman who whispered something. The rider clicked his tongue impatiently and rolled his eyes, complaining, “My horse can’t wait in all sweat, let him wait.”

Knowing that this prince was obsessed with horses, Feng Dalun had no choice but to wait on the side. The rider unfastened the saddle, tightened the horseshoes and brushed the horseback. Not until the whole set of maintenance was done did he casually walk over to be served by the maids who helped him to change into casual wear and take off his header cap. Feng Dalu hurried to pay his respect, greeting, “Your Highness.” The man was the sixteenth son of the emperor, Prince Yong, Li Lin.

He naturally had influential nobles behind his back for the huge business he managed in Chang’an. Prince Yong was one of the biggest backers. The case last year was brought by this sixteenth prince, so he hurried to seek advice.

Prince Yong tilted his body to lean on the wide couch, picked up the teacup and took a sip, lazily saying: “Be quick, I still have the second half to play.” Born with a neck problem, he always looking at people with a side face, which gave him quite an unpredictable air.

Feng Dalun first looked around before bending over to whisper in a low voice, “Your highness, Yama Zhang is out of prison…” Prince Yong’s wrist trembled upon the name, almost dropping the teacup to the yellow ground, and his face turned extremely ugly, as if about to throw up. The handmaid nearby hurried to knead his stomach and not until quite a while later did he finally manage to force the nausea down.

“What the hell is going on? Isn’t he in the death prison?”

Feng Dalun then explained that it was Jing’an Department who took him out. Prince Yong rubbed his fingers over his temples, “What is this Jing’an Department?”

Feng Dalun knew that this prince didn’t pay much attention to official matters, so he explained, “Jing’an Department is a newly established office that takes charge of the security and defense of West City. He Zhizhang is the minister and the scholar Li Bi is the Sicheng.” At these, he handed over a scroll of paper, on which wrote some implicit hints to help this prince get an insight into the deep meanings behind all the arrangements.

Prince Yong, with his side face, scanned the scroll, and then wore a quite bothered look, “I never expect Jing’an Department to have such a story…things are getting a bit tricky here. Really troublesome.” He then anxiously threw the cup aside, “Why isn’t the damn thing about Wen family finished? And this damn Yama Zhang, why can’t he just die?! Such a troublemaker!”

Prince Yong’s stomach turned at the mention of this name. He hated trouble all his life, and it hurt him that these wretches would not die.

Feng Dalun gave a gentle smile, “Fret not, your highness. Daughter of Wen is already in Fires Gang, and I bet Yama Zhang dares not to do anything impetuous.”

“Wen Ran, that’s a beautiful woman…” said Prince Yong as he touched the corners of the mouth with his fingers, showing a lustful smile. Then with a frown he said, “No, I’ve sworn before the Buddha that I would let it pass. If I go back on my words, that’s lying to the Buddha. No, I can’t do it.”

Feng Dalu: “Your Highness, it is Fires Gang that offered to help. You didn’t even know it. So basically, you didn’t break your oath.”

Prince Yong was easily convinced, thinking that Fires Gang was so considerate, and changed for a better mood. Seeing that the prince’s face softened, Feng Dalun seized the chance to add, “However, Yama Zhang is still a latent scourge as long as he is out. Your Highness, it would be best that you could send him back to the prison.”

To deal with Zhang Xiaojing, only official means would work. He himself was nothing but a ninth ranked official without much influence, so he had to seek Prince Yong’s help.

As expected, Prince Yong’s eyelids twitched, as the words hit the sore point, “What do you say?”

“Jing’an Department only dispatches Yama Zhang for some sort of business, not exonerating him from the crime. So Zhang is still a condemned. The best thing to do now is to let several censors that are on friendly terms with your highness to accuse Jing’an Department of misusing a prisoner, which brings disgrace to the court. In this way, Jing’an Department will have to hand over Yama Zhang.”

Prince Yong shook his head hard, “Not a good idea. Censors are mad dogs. They will first bite me if I ask for their help. And should they report anything to father…No, by no means would I venture that!”

Censors of Tang took the responsibility to supervise who could report anything immoral or wrong to the emperor. Eyes always fixed on all the offices and administrations in Chang’an, they would go bite anywhere or anyone that made mistakes. The bigger the scene, the better they felt, regardless of any kins or friends. And there was no way that you could even find one who wasn’t bothered by them.

Feng Dalu hurried to add, “I’ve got another idea. Your Highness, you can ask Dali Temple for a writ to demand the prison back for unfinished judgment. Even if Jing’an Department refuses, we can still sound out their true intention.”

It was a common way of communication among different offices that wouldn’t leave any trace behind. Prince Yong pondered for a while, “Good idea. I happen to be on good terms with a consultant in Dali Temple. You can go ask for the writ in my name.”

Consultant of Dali Temple was subordinate eighth rank official responsible for imprisonment advising and laws correction, a best candidate for this matter. Feng Dalun thus asked for the name of this consultant. Prince Yong stared at the sky and gave a name after quite a long while of reflection, “Hum…family name is Yuan, and…seems related with Princess Cao. Right, Yuan Zai, and I forget his courtesy name.”

Feng Dalun noted down the name on his sleeve and hastened to excuse himself. Right at this point, there came the sound of the gongs from the polo field. The handmaids by the side hurried to help Prince Yong to change, who, however, berated them with ill-temper and paced restlessly around the tent, yet the nausea in his stomach grew stronger. Soon, he couldn’t bear it anymore and rushed to vomit in the waste bin.

Just then, in the distance, from the southwest, came a faint sound of drums, which beat fast, with each beat between the breaths, particularly disturbing. Prince Yong wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and waved his hand in a rather feeble way, “Enough of the game. Time to get back!”

*

Cao Poyan was stunned. How come the girl disappeared just when he turned his head for a second? The well pavilion was dozens of steps away from the walls, and even birds cannot fly so quickly over the wall.

It was quite a while later when Cao finally came back to himself from the shock. He rushed to the well, and stretched his neck over the rails to look down. As expected, the woman had jumped into it!

The water was shallow and Wen Ran lay prone in the water, motionless. Cao Poyan called the girl but didn’t get any response.

Why did she do it? To avoid being insulted or being taken as hostage to threaten her father? That Cao didn’t care. What he cared at the moment was how to get her out! And he couldn’t tell whether she was dead after the fall or she was merely pretending.

Normally a rope would solve the problem. However, it now became an almost insurmountable problem for Cao Poyan as his wrist had been shot by the crossbow in the raid started by Lubi Army. Though it healed well after being dressed, he still had difficulty to pull something heavy. Thus, it would be impossible to pull her out of the well with only one arm. And he couldn’t go to the warehouse for help — they were all too busy with Kailuo Hodo to waste even a second.

So Cao was caught in a simple predicament.

Cao paced around the well for several times and bent down to carefully observe the shaft wall. There were a series of shallow gouges on the wall which should have been left by the well puller. It was difficult to climb with bare hands without special skills. Then on a second thought, Cao wondered, why must get her out?

Her death would bring much convenience. Even if the woman wasn’t dead, she couldn’t climb up on her own. Just put a lid on the top of the well then a stone on the lid. A perfect cage!

He could just came back to fetch her if Yousha General wanted her. He now got something important to do and wasn’t willing to waste the time on a woman.

Cao Poyan then felt pity that this was the first time he took pity on a Tang girl, and offered to let her leave some message for her father. Yet she just chose to drown herself in the well. It seemed that girls from central plains were much more strong willed than he had expected. Then he couldn’t help but think of Wang Zhongsi, the terror of the grasslands, who was ruthless and tough, cruel and cunning. Every time his flags rose on the side of Orkhon River, they took away more blood than the water, making the cattle and sheep shudder.

Like father, like daughter.

Cao Poyan had heard from his seniors the glory of Turkic wolves. They had closed in upon Chang’an several times that even frightened the Tang emperor. Now they had to withdraw to a corner of the grassland and struggle under the strong army of Tang. The reason why he had agreed to come to Chang’an was to see the great city that had witnessed the glory and disgrace of his ancestors, and destroy it.

“How I wish to defeat Chan’an fair and square!” sighed Cao Poyan with some faint regret in his voice. He then found a rag and threw it into the well to cover Wen Ran. The rag was of the same color as the bottom of the well, so that even if someone looked down, he wouldn’t notice anything. Then he put several stones over the lid covering the well and left the warehouse.

It was a much more desolate place than the north. There were few people nearby, just a few rows of abandoned houses and land-temples. Every now and then a crow flew over a ragged streamer, and even a stray dog would pass by.

Cao Poyan watched warily from side to side as he walked toward the outer street. After walking about two blocks, he saw a small market in the lane, where vendors mainly sold soup bait, hu cakes, soup and other cheap food, and there were also some grocery stalls selling needles and threads. Not far away on a slope, there was a small courtyard with a green gourd hung by the wall and three huge green urns at the door. A few dozen ragged beggars were lying lazily on the slope outside the yard.

This should be the place Long Bo had mentioned. It was said that this place was specially for beggars and patients in Chang’an city where even diagnosis, treatment and medicine were provided.

Cao really couldn’t understand it. Was Tang really that rich? The grasslands never fed these wastes.

Cao went straight up to them, and was disgusted with the repugnant smell. The beggars were catching lice and basking in the sun like mountain monkeys, not caring a bit about this intruder. He frowned, searching for a beggar wearing a flower clip header cap. This was not difficult, as most beggars had disheveled hair.

He soon found the goal: A man was on a pine tree, slumbering, his body wrapped in a cloth robe, with an old hairless rug under him. On his head was a flower clip FuTou. He was particularly eye-catching in a group of scruffy beggars.

“I need some men,” Cao walked up, straight to the point.

The man yawned and squinted at him lazily with his eyes stained with gunk, saying nothing. Cao unfastened a silver pot with a curved mouth from his waist. On both sides of the pot carved a lifelike galloping horse, which was the wine pot he had been carrying with him when he rode on the grassland.

“If you can do that, it’s yours.”