CH 21

The Emperor sat in his study, looking at the banknotes with a smile. 

Years and years of war, and now the reconstruction work needing to be done, had emptied out the national coffers. The palace had set an example of frugality: the Emperor first by wearing patched robes, and the Empress by not buying new jewelry for three years. Only with Ye Zhao’s triumphant return and the spoils of war she brought back did the heads of the women of the back palace[1] start to shine again. Now the Empress Dowager’s sixtieth birthday was approaching, and although she had already ordered to keep it simple, it would have been too disgraceful to keep it too simple. 

And now Xia Yujin was providing providential help. Even if ten thousand taels wasn’t much, a little was better than nothing, and filial piety was commendable. 

Very satisfied, the Emperor even expressed his joy toward Xia Yujin. 

It was clean money. The gambling den had been officially approved by the government and conducted its business openly, without flouting the law or persecuting people; the outcome of the bets depended on skill. And it wasn’t too big of a problem for a censor to roll up their sleeves and descend upon the occasional dirty gambling den or two, some swindler or another, as long as no human life was lost. The Emperor even wished that Xia Yujin had cleaned a couple of gambling halls more, made those rich owners cough up a bit more money, to fill up the holes in the south-west disaster relief fund.

“Your Majesty is very wise,” Xia Yujin praised. 

Feeling that this was inappropriate, the Emperor quickly let go of his joyful expression. “Yujin!” he reproached, “Your behavior was out of line! The dignified prince of Nanping fooling around in gambling dens, what a disgrace!”

Xia Yujin received this criticism with his head lowered. 

“This time, for your filial piety towards the Empress Dowager, We will look away,” the Emperor said, full of cold righteousness. He swept the banknotes to his personal eunuch, told him to put them away and, at last shelving the matter away, angrily added, “These people have been getting more and more in the capital lately. Prince Qi’s fief is sufficiently wealthy, yet he stretched out his money-hungry hand to the capital, opened a den of iniquity behind my back, and defrauded the market. He never has enough! And that princess of Changping, who seized a house by force for the repairs of her summer estate, and who drove a family of four to death to indulge her slave! She was put on trial by the imperial censor. They really will anger Us to death.”

“That’s right!” Xia Yujin said, seizing the opportunity, both agreeing and boasting, “I’m the most honest.”

The Emperor picked up a paper fan from his desk and threw it at his shameless head.

“An authentic Hu Daozi? From his beautiful women’s paintings? Great! Wonderful!” Xia Yujin opened the fan and looked it over, overjoyed, then quickly put it away. “Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty!”

The Emperor, seeing his brazen and revolting behavior, felt so incensed that he wished he could roll up his own sleeves and personally give the young man a beating.

He’d wanted to harshly discipline Xia Yujin on several occasions, until he remembered the old Prince An, his own brother. They had been very close, and the prince had made great contributions to help his brother ascend to the throne. But he’d been cut off in his prime, having overworked himself ill. He’d left behind two sons: the first one had been disabled, the second one sick and frail, neither of whom could ever aspire to much. The new Prince An, Xia Yuque, was an upright and honest man, but nothing more, while Xia Yujin, with his good looks, his silver tongue, and his natural frailty, resembled the former Prince An. So the whole of the back palace knew that, besides the Crown Prince, he was the Empress Dowager’s most beloved grandson. 

Moreover, although Xia Yujin’s reputation was that of a devil incarnate, strict investigation found him innocent of any such crimes. But there were simply so many disgraceful little details that, every few days, reached the ears of all; he messed around with unsavory types of all backgrounds, damaged the reputation of the imperial family many times, and no one could truly cover up the mess he caused. 

Two years before, the Emperor had ruthlessly had Xia Yujin dragged to the palace courtyard to be flogged twenty times with a staff, to teach him a lesson. Even though he’d told the palace eunuch not to go too hard, Xia Yujin fainted before he even received two strikes. Then the Empress Dowager, propped on her walking stick, rushed over to the scene, sobbing as she held onto Yujin and cried out his short-lived father’s name. She was so distraught that the Emperor had to go to the Palace of Mercy and Quiet to obediently apologize to his mother and swear to the heavens that he would never senselessly beat this frail creature again. 

The Emperor came to a realization after this incident. 

Xia Yujin was as unmanageable as a white cloud streaking through the sky. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

From then on, the Emperor only perfunctorily glanced at the notes concerning Xia Yujin, making sure that he wasn’t causing any great disaster, then refused to acknowledge them any further. During festivals and celebrations, the Emperor completely overlooked him in his bestowing of rewards, noble titles and promotions. And when Xia Yujin went out and caused trouble, or got knocked around, he pretended not to know. It wasn’t until the general’s victory and the Empress Dowager’s suggestion to marry Ye Zhao and Xia Yujin that the Emperor remembered the said fellow. He triumphantly agreed to this mother’s will, hoping that the fierce General Ye would help him set that wastrel straight. 

Xia Yujin, still unaware of his thoughts, jumped up and asked, “Your Majesty, shall I go pay my respects to the Empress Dowager?”

“In a moment.” The Emperor was in a very good mood that day, unusually so even as he had to look at this scoundrel. So he summoned Xia Yujin and now, after long deliberation, he suddenly gave him a kind smile. “Yujin, you were named prince of Nanping a few months ago. You cannot keep on playing around for the rest of your life. Wouldn’t it be better if We gave you an official position? It would be your contribution to the nation of the Great Qin.”

Xia Yujin felt that the heavens had split in two, sending his ears buzzing. When he came to, he started to wonder if his uncle had been bewitched by a malicious fox spirit who wished harm on the country. He hesitatingly answered, “Your Majesty, you know how little I’m worth. I don’t know anything but a life of pleasure. I’ve learned sporadically at Professor Long’s side all these years. At most, I can read a whole book, but I cannot make sense of the principles for peacefully administering a country. If you give me a position, people will die.”

The Emperor smiled even more amiably. He walked over to Xia Yujin and patted his shoulder. “Don’t undervalue yourself. I’ve thought and thought about how to fill this position. No one is more suitable to fill it than you.”

Seeing that there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with his uncle’s head, he started to doubt the fox spirit. “Which position?”

“City censor,”the Emperor solemnly replied.[2]

Xia Yujin almost choked on his spit. 

The name of city-patrolling censor might sound imposing, but they were actually sixth-ranked minor officials who, with their hundreds of subordinates, were responsible for public order and safety on the streets of the capital and the arrest of thieves. They also handled quarrels between women of ill repute, street fights, scoundrels dining and dashing, the neighbors’ vicious dog, quack doctors, brothel customers refusing to pay, and all sorts of trivial complaints. 

Managing the streets of the capital was no easy task. You couldn’t throw a stone without hitting two or three aristocrats. High-ranking officials and members of the imperial family gathered like clouds. The web of all major businesses was intricately woven. If the city censor made the smallest comment, the slightest move, he risked offending people, and then if he wasn’t directly the target of an attack he would be punished, so he didn’t dare move. 

“What if I can’t do it?” Xia Yujin said, attempting to dodge the ball. 

“You stroll those streets everyday without problems,” the Emperor said lightly. “Wouldn’t you stroll the same way as the city censor? It’s just a name. Isn’t that a good deal? After all, if you could teach even Prince Qi a lesson, setting other people on the straight path should be easy for you.”

Xia Yujin, tempting his luck, asked, “If I ever make a mess… Will I be removed from office immediately?”

“Don’t be so negative,” the Emperor insisted, “you are perfectly capable of doing it. Besides, We won’t let the Ministry of Appointments handle your case.”

“What if no one listens to me?” Xia Yujin said, pulling a long face.

The Emperor looked at the fan Xia Yujin had slipped down the front of his clothes. “Don’t let something so trivial get to you,” he patiently and imperturbably said. “After all, your wife can back you up.”

[1 ^] Imperial harem. I will probably use “back courtyard” in the same way to refer to other people’s harems.

[2 ^] Lit. 巡城御史 xúnchéng yùshǐ, “city-patrolling imperial censor.” I can’t find what position exactly this exact title covered and when, but here’s more about censors (Tang dynasty censors seem to have been the author’s source of inspiration). Censors were very unpopular among the other officials.