"WHERE DID HE GO after breaking out?" asked Cui Buqu.
"No one knows. The Jiejian Bureau hasn't seen him. He walked right out of the Ministry of Justice's own prison, so his escape was impossible to conceal. His Majesty already knows, of course, but the news is being kept under wraps as much as possible. After speaking to the emperor, Ming Yue took someone else to the prison, then told everyone Feng Xiao had surrendered and returned to his cell."
But this was merely a ruse to stop the news from spreading. Everyone involved would know it wasn't the real Feng Xiao. If Deputy Chief Feng had run, he'd never willingly return.
Zhangsun Bodhi expected Cui Buqu would explode in rage over Feng Xiao complicating things at such a critical time. But surprisingly, Cui Buqu was calm; an odd expression passed over his face, then he nodded his head in acknowledgment.
"The Buddhist ceremony will be heavily guarded," said Zhangsun Bodhi. "But if the enemy has an expert like Xiao Lü with them, Ming Yue and I might not be enough."
Feng-er was an exceptional martial artist and an indispensable ally. If he didn't make an appearance tomorrow, they might be in grave trouble.
"If he hasn't shown himself, there's no point in worrying about him," said Cui Buqu. "Xiao Lü was badly injured in their battle at the tavern and has yet to fully recover. He'll be fighting at only seventy or eighty percent of his full ability. If you and Ming Yue combine your efforts, it should be enough."
Zhangsun disagreed. "There's still Tu'an Qinghe."
"The Göktürks have had their sights set on the Central Plains for as long as anyone can remember, but this is the capital. His Majesty is surrounded by many experts. If Tu'an Qinghe wishes to attack him, he can't accomplish his goals alone. If we reinforce our defenses too openly, we might drive the enemy to devise even more strategies against us; we'd be wiser to adopt a more passive approach. When the time comes, we'll take appropriate countermeasures."
"You're saying you wish to use His Majesty as bait?"
His tone wasn't accusatory. It was just the two of them in the room. No third party would overhear Zhangsun's question. They were in the open, while the enemy lurked in the dark. Even the most fortified armor had a weak point, and their defenses were spread thin over too many places and people; flaws and vulnerabilities abounded. Luring the enemy in and adapting their tactics in the moment was the best course of action.
Slowly, Cui Buqu nodded.
Zhangsun was silent for a moment. "Understood. I'll summon personnel and make thorough preparations."
Cui Buqu coughed a few times. "Don't be nervous. Many things seem beyond our control, but in reality, the danger is not as great as it seems."
"What do you mean?"
The sun had sunk completely below the horizon, and the last remnants of twilight had faded away. Darkness shrouded the city. Cui Buqu shivered slightly and pulled his cloak tighter around him. Observing this, Zhangsun prodded at the flames in the stove. Soon the room was warm once more.
The night of the sixteenth was unusually chilly. The authorities had reinstated the usual curfew after the incident at the Prince of Qin's residence. In a sharp contrast to the bustling atmosphere of the previous night, a deep silence had settled over the capital. Only faint sounds came from outside the hall—perhaps the soft whisper of falling snow. If not for the trial that awaited them, it would have been a serene night, perfectly suited for peaceful sleep.
But Cui Buqu was not sleeping.
"Xiao Lü and Kuhezhen must have reached some agreement to work against us," he said calmly. "But Xiao Lü has no foothold in the Sui dynasty. If he wishes to usurp the throne, he must use a puppet—most likely someone close to the emperor. If he wishes to ensure a smooth transition, one of his goals must be to maintain stability. He might not wish to kill His Majesty. Kuhezhen is different. He desires chaos in Great Sui, the more the better. That's the only way the Göktürks will get the opportunity they want. His plans require the emperor's death.
"We can exploit this conflict between them," Cui Buqu concluded. "Their disagreement will give us our chance."
Zhangsun sighed, the sound very soft. He had never been someone who sighed. This was the first time Cui Buqu had seen him so unsure. "I have no confidence," Zhangsun said. "But tomorrow, I shall do my utmost."
Cui Buqu offered him a small smile. "Zhangsun, my strategies aren't invincible; even the strategist Zhuge Liang made a misstep on occasion. I have no evidence that my deductions are correct. I, too, can only do my best."
His face was flushed faintly pink from the heat of the stove, yet he still appeared alarmingly frail. Zhangsun thought he looked even paler now than he had the past few days. The color on his cheeks failed to add any warmth to his face; instead, the stove's fire was like a flickering candle, burning up the last dregs of its energy to impart what little life it could to Cui Buqu's tired body.
"Lord Chief." Zhangsun furrowed his brow. "Don't go tomorrow. Let me handle it."
"You know that's impossible," Cui Buqu replied calmly.
Zhangsun Bodhi's lips twitched. He wanted to say something, but ultimately swallowed the words. Cui Buqu had always been sickly; every year he fell ill when winter arrived. But recently he'd been in high spirits and spent little time in bed. To the uninformed observer, he might appear in fairly good health. But Zhangsun Bodhi knew it wasn't so. In fact, it was the opposite: Cui Buqu's current state was highly abnormal. It resembled a terminal surge of energy before death.
Zhangsun couldn't bring himself to say those ominous words aloud.
The chief's health had always been precarious. Any doctor who examined him would inevitably forecast a limited lifespan—three to five months, or, at best, three to five years. The blunter ones would go so far as to suggest he get his affairs in order.
Cui Buqu defied fate with his existence. He'd been this way as long as Zhangsun had known him: dragging along his ailing body yet never collapsing. Over time, everyone had developed a kind of delusion that Cui Buqu would never stumble or die.
But a delusion was just that. A failing body couldn't suddenly restore itself to full health. Cui Buqu exhausting his strength like this would only burn down the candle quicker. At this moment he seemed fine, but in truth, he'd reached the limits of his endurance. He was like a lamp running low on oil, slowly growing dim.
Zhangsun Bodhi knew all the Buddhist scriptures by heart, but he struggled to comfort others. Prattling on was not in his nature, so all he could say was "Don't push yourself. Remember, you still have us."
Cui Buqu seemed to sense Zhangsun's thoughts. He patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. I can hold on."
At the very least, he would last through tomorrow's ordeal.
***
As night fell, what had begun as a light flurry of snow turned into great cottony drifts that blanketed the streets. In the princess's residence, the same tranquil hush enveloped the surroundings as the occupants readied themselves for slumber.
The banquet that had been originally planned for tonight had been canceled in the wake of the events of the Lantern Festival. The atmosphere within the palace had grown increasingly tense in the run-up to tomorrow's Buddhist ceremony. All the city's nobles and officials were like moles that'd smelled the first signs of a storm on the wind. They hunkered quietly down in their burrows, locking their doors and windows. The three nights of the Lantern Festival had never been so desolate.
But Princess Leping had yet to prepare for sleep—even her hairpin remained in her hair. She sat awake on her bed, agitated in the extreme as she gazed at the young woman who'd just entered the room with sorrow in her eyes.
"Huan-niang, are you still unwilling to let me go?"