When I wake, Shao Ru’s already up and out.  I knock on the back door of the house and Shao Su lets me in and gives me breakfast.  She’s looking contented. 

“He’s gone to get a bath and a haircut,” she says.  “He’ll be back soon.”

Over breakfast, I learn that she’s the widow of a soldier and earns a good living sewing uniforms for the military.  She also takes private customers and has a special line in decorative embroidery.  The house is small, but she seems to lack nothing.

“You came just in time,” she says, “He was starting to go downhill.  He’ll be all right now.”

The man himself turns up not long after, still with bloodshot eyes and a haggard face, but with short hair and a clean chin.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks, sitting down at the table.

“Make contact with Ah-Zhou.  Gather information.”

He looks sheepish.  “Can we wait a day or two before seeing Ah-Zhou?  If I go looking like this, he’ll give me a rollicking.”

I notice that Shao Ru minds his language when his sister’s present. 

“All right.  Information first. Where can we hear the latest gossip?  I can hardly turn up at the Cherry Blossom Pavilion now Ma Lingxin’s gone.”

Shao Ru winces and makes a hushing motion.  His sister snorts.  “You don’t have to spare my blushes, Ah-Ru, everybody knows about the Cherry Blossom Pavilion.  I used to do business with Lady Ma.  It’s under new management now, from what I hear.”

“What business?” he demands, taken aback.

“Embroidered table-linen.”

“Who’s the new owner?”  I ask.

“I’ve heard it’s a man, but I don’t know his name.”

“We have no idea where his sympathies lie.  We can’t risk it.”

“I know a guy who has his ear to the ground,” Shao Ru says.  “He frequents a tavern near the ministries and all the clerks go there for their lunchtime dumplings.  He hears all the latest gossip and sells it to anyone who’ll pay.  But we need to be careful.  You’re too noticeable.”

“I have an idea,” says Shao Su.  “I’ve got some finished items to deliver and I usually hire someone, but the two of you could do that.  No-one will notice you if you’re dressed as porters.”

So when Shao Ru and I leave, we’re in nondescript clothing, our arms bare, large leather caps on our heads and bundles of finished clothing on our bowed backs.  It’s a fair hike to the Department of Army Supplies, where we’re supposed to deliver the stuff.  Nobody spares us a glance.  We’re told where to put the bundles and someone tosses us a couple of coins as a tip.

Shao Ru brings me to a large tavern on the edge of the administrative district.  It’s not midday yet, so it’s almost empty.  We sit and order drinks and snacks.

“This guy usually comes in around lunchtime,” Shao Ru says, “If he’s still alive, that is.  But anyway, the dumplings are good so the journey won’t be wasted.”

We don’t wait long.  A small man with a pronounced limp sidles in, sees Shao Ru’s wave and comes over.  “Long time no see, Ah-Ru,” he says, grinning, “Heard the army kicked you out.”

“Nah,” says Shao Ru, “They didn’t appreciate me so I left of my own accord.  Sit down, have a drink, tell us the latest about the war.”

A sum of money appears on the table and just as quickly disappears.  The small man takes a drink and sits back. “There’s no grain because of last year’s bad harvest and those bastard nobles are hoarding the stuff for their own use and won’t cough it up.  And there’s a problem with the supply of arrows to the front line.  Not that there’s much fighting going on.  The whisper is that around a third of the men are unfit for duty because of illness.  But the weather’s holding fine and there’s no excuse for the Emperor to withdraw yet.”  He looks round and lowers his voice, though there’s no-one close enough to hear.  “Xu Yating isn’t about to recall him just yet because she wants to run things herself.”  His voice drops even further.  “She and that adviser of hers, Du Xun.  Very close, they are.  Too close, from what I hear.”

“At it, are they?”  Shao Ru asks, feigning lip-smacking interest.

“That’s what some say.  But they don’t say it too loudly in case they get their tongues pulled out.  Du Xun’s a cruel bastard.”

“Any idea what’s happened to the Li family?”

“Old Li’s in the central jail.  They’ve been torturing him to get a confession but no luck so far.  The women were moved to the Jade Cloud Temple but the old lady died.  And the son was executed not so long ago.  The Emperor had a fight with his mother over it.  He wants to make a public example of the whole family.”

“So he and his mother aren’t on good terms?”

The small man sucks in his breath.  “Put it this way.  There’s been a lot of dying in that family.  The Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Princes all died unexpectedly.  She put one son on the throne and he disappointed her.  Now she’s got her favourite son up there and she’s determined to keep him under her thumb.  But he’s not as easy to manipulate as his brother.” 

He looks round again and leans further in towards us.  “He’s got no heir.  His brother’s children are all daughters.  The Third Prince is ill, hasn’t been seen for months, and the whispers are that Xu Yating’s poisoning him.  So if anything happens to Yan Rong, who takes the throne, eh?”

The sound of voices interrupts us, as a group of young men in clerks’ robes push through the door.  The lunchtime crowd’s starting to arrive.  The small man grins, gets up and limps over to a table in the corner, from where he can survey the room.

Shao Ru has a puzzed look.  “What’s he suggesting?  I don’t get it.”

“I think he’s saying that if Yan Rong doesn’t toe the line, his mother might make a clean sweep and take the throne for herself or a member of her family.  She’s a King’s daughter, came as a concubine from a small kingdom in the north-east.  Perhaps there’s some relative back home, a brother or a nephew, waiting for his chance.”

“A foreign Emperor?  The army would never stand for it.”

“The Imperial Guards are all loyal to the Xu family.  And she’s been bribing and threatening the nobles to support her.  The army’s in disarray and the experienced officers either sidelined or executed.  It would be a huge risk, but she might think she can pull it off.”

“Well, could anyone be worse than Yan Rong?”

“I don’t think I’d want to be ruled by Xu Yating and Du Xun.  Anyway, it’s all speculation.  What do we know about the Jade Cloud Temple?”

“That’s the place where the Palace locks up wayward Imperial concubines and naughty offspring.  The conditions won’t be as harsh as in prison, though I don’t suppose the nuns and monks are very tender either.”

“Who’s in charge there?”

“Not sure.  There was a very elderly Abbott, but he died recently.  Don’t know who replaced him.”

“We’ll go and check it out.  Do you think you can face Ah-Zhou tomorrow?”

He makes a face.  “I suppose I’d better get it over with.”  Then he brightens as a waiter goes past with a loaded tray.  “In the meanwhile, those dumplings look really good.”

He’s decidedly nervous next day as we make our way to Liang Zhou’s clinic.  Almost the first person we see as we go in is Mo Jiang, wearing a doctor’s apron, busy changing the bandages on a patient’s leg.  He glances up and says, “If you wait just a moment over there, the doctor will……”  

Recognition sets in.  His mouth falls open.  He half-rises.  I shake my head warningly and Mo Jiang gulps, bows and says, “If you just wait, I’ll tell the doctor you’re here.”

There are benches along the wall.  We sit, while Mo Jiang disappears into the building.  Two minutes later he comes back out and bows to us again.  “The doctor will see you inside,” he says.  I pat his shoulder as we pass by.  “Good lad,” I say quietly.

Inside, it’s cool and rather dim.  My eyes have barely adjusted when a furious voice says, “So it’s you two, turning up at long last!  Where the hell have you been?  Do you realize how worried we all were?  And here you both are, as cool as if nothing’s happened.  I suppose you’ve got some excuse, Liao Shan, but that sorry human being next to you certainly hasn’t.  Where were you?”

His face is red with emotion and wet with tears.  I say, “Ah-Zhou,” and grab him as he comes towards us.  We hug, while Shao Ru stands by shuffling his feet.  Liang Zhou recovers his poise quickly, wipes his face with his apron and says, “Sorry, I’ve taken myself by surprise.”

“Bai Ping told you Jinhai and I were alive?”

He nods, still brushing away tears.  “Is Jinhai here too?”

“Not yet.  He’s on his way.  When are you free?  There’s a lot of catching up to do.”

“At noon.  Eat here with us.  I’ll tell my wife.”

Mo Jiang appears at the door bursting with excitement, and says, “Can I come in?  I’m so glad to see you, sir.   And you too, sir,” he adds to Shao Ru.  And the inevitable question follows: “Is Jinhai all right?  Is he here?”

“He’s fine and don’t say ‘sir’, we’re trying to keep a low profile.” Shao Ru says, “Call us ‘Brother’.”

“I’m not sure I can get used to that,” Mo Jiang says with a grin.

Mo Jiang, Ah-Zhou, it’s good to see you again.

Sitting down to a meal with these friends, I feel that time has rolled back to last year, before all the disruption happened.  It’s an illusion, but it’s comforting.  Again, I tell the story of the last six months, answer the same questions, hear the same exclamations, see the same expressions on my friends’ faces.  Madam Liang, a self-effacing person, moves in and out like a shadow, directing the servants who are bringing us food.  Children peer in, but run away when invited to come and be introduced.  Liang Zhou’s put on a little weight, he looks older and more sedate.  He’s noticed Shao Ru’s condition, but says nothing.

As the meal ends. he leaves for a moment and comes back with a letter, which he hands to me.  “This arrived a couple of months ago, just after Bai Ping’s visit.  It must be for you or Jinhai.”

I open the letter.  It says, briefly and to the point, “We arrived safely.”  There follows an address in Border Town.  It’s signed with a small drawing of an orchid.

“It’s from Lord Zhao.  He and Zhao Zhan are safe.  There’s an address so we can send messages.”

“That’ll be a relief for Jinhai,” says Liang Zhou.

“Do you think Lord Zhao really is the little bundle’s daddy?” Shao Ru asks.

“Jinhai seems to think so.  Because of the nose.”

“The nose?” they ask together.

I chuckle.  “He hasn’t got the royal beak.”

”I can’t wait to see him,” says Mo Jiang, “When will he get here?”

“A month, six weeks.  I told him to come here when he gets to the city.”

Liang Zhou frowns.  “You may already be gone by then.”

“Yup, the timing’s bad.  I wish it were otherwise, but I it can’t be helped.  It’s just the way things have worked out.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him,” Liang Zhou says comfortingly.  “What are your immediate plans?”

“We’re going to check out this Jade Cloud Temple, find out if there are any weak points, see who goes in and out.  And then think of a way to get Ah-Lien out.”

“Jade Cloud Temple?” Liang Zhou looks thoughtful.  “I’ve been there a couple of times.  There’s a big courtyard in front of the temple where ordinary people can go and ask for blessings, leave offerings and pray.  Then there are other buildings at the back, monks in one part and nuns in the other.  There are cells on both sides for high-ranking Imperial prisoners.  Your sister may be guarded.  The Dowager Empress will be keeping an eye on her.”

“That’s what we need to find out.”

Next day, Shao Ru and I head for the Jade Cloud Temple.  We’re dressed as common folk and we don’t stand out, because a fair number of people are heading in the same direction.  The temple complex is huge.  As Liang Zhou said, the temple itself and its courtyard are open to the public and there’s a great bustle of coming and going.  Behind the temple there’s a formidable wall sheltering the monastic buildings. 

“This is going to take a while,” Shao Ru says, sweating a little in the late summer heat.

Over the next few days we try, as unobtrusively as possible, to get the information we need.  We pace out the perimeter wall and discover that there’s a service-gate on the west side.  It’s guarded, but the guards are ordinary civilians, not soldiers.  Day by day, taking turns, we observe the traffic in and out of this gate:  carts carrying food and firewood, messengers, court officials and groups of cheerful women who seem to be daily servants of some kind.

“Washerwomen and cleaners,” Shao Ru says, having got one of them into conversation in a tavern, a thing he’s good at.  “The nuns and monks don’t do their own laundry and cleaning.  I didn’t have time to lead the conversation round to prisoners, but I’m meeting my contact again tomorrow.”

“We haven’t seen any sign of Imperial Guards or any other soldiers.”

Shao Ru frowns.  “Men aren’t allowed in the nuns’ area in case of naughty goings-on.  If there are any guards, they’ll be on the monks’ side.  But we’ve been here five days now.  We haven’t seen a single one.”

“We really need to get an idea of the layout of the place, but I’m damned if I know how.  We can’t exactly turn up to the Ministry of Works and ask for a plan.”

We sit for a moment looking at our drinks.  Then Shao Ru says, “We need a woman.”

“Speak for yourself.”

He cackles.  “No, I mean we need to put a woman in there to take a look round.”

We look at one another.

“My sister could do it,” Shao Ru says, “I’ll speak to my contact and see if Ah-Su could get herself hired.”

It turns out that cleaning-women are always in short supply.  To my surprise, Shao Su hardly raises an eyebrow at being asked to spy on the monastic goings-on.  In fact, she seems rather flattered to be asked.  So for three days, she goes in, works all day, and in the evening describes to us what she’s seen.  She’s extremely observant and has a good memory.  Between us, we draw up a detailed plan of the nuns’ side of the temple.

Feeling pleased with our progress, Shao Ru and I go to Liang Zhou’s house for dinner and to report on our activities.  It’s another merry meal.  But as we’re walking home, long after dark, I get a familiar prickly feeling in the back of my neck.  At the same moment Shao Ru snaps, “We’re being followed,” and turns, reaching for his sword. 

It’s too late.  Before we can get our weapons out, we’re surrounded by eight men, dressed alike in dark grey uniforms, their heads and most of their faces covered.  There are no badges or insignia to reveal their identity.  Eight swords are pointing directly at us.

Shao Ru swears under his breath.  But the men make no move to attack.  Instead one of them steps forward and says, “Our Master wishes to speak with you.  Please surrender your swords and come with us.”

My voice is curt.  “Who is your Master?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

There’s no way we can fight eight men.  I look at Shao Ru and nod.  Reluctantly, we surrender our swords.

“Good decision,” says the spokesman.  “Let’s go.”