Chapter Seventy-One: The Minister and the Empress in Secret Affairs

Hearing Empress Wei’s questioning, Wu Sansi sat up on the bed and said, “Don’t be anxious, Xiang’er. Zhang Jianzhong and his allies have lost their power. Sooner or later, I’ll take their lives. But as for Princess Taiping, she’s someone we must guard against. She’s never involved herself in state affairs, so I can’t discern her true strength. The more unfathomable she seems, the more careful I must be. She’s like a crouching tiger, hiding her claws—who knows when she’ll leap out and bite us? If we change the crown prince, how could Li Chongjun let it go? If Princess Taiping secretly supports him, it could be a disaster. Right now, I’ve petitioned His Majesty to appoint Li Chongjun as crown prince, to stabilize him first, then slowly deal with Taiping. Li Chongjun has no foundation in court, so when the time is right, he can be deposed. This is what they call repairing the plank road in the open, crossing the warehouse in secret.”

Wei pondered for a while before laughing, “What did the emperor say?”

Wu Sansi replied, “What else could he say? Of course he agreed. You should seize the opportunity to quarrel with him a bit—he’ll feel guilty toward you, and even if he learns of our affairs, he won’t dare interfere. Wouldn’t that make us happy?”

Wei laughed and scolded, “You sly dog, you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve. Come here, tonight Xiang’er will reward you with this fine body.”

The two embraced again, indulging in pleasures as the night passed.

The following morning, at court, Emperor Zhongzong issued a decree appointing Prince Wei, Li Chongjun, as crown prince. The entire court offered congratulations. Yet unexpectedly, this was only the first step in Wu Sansi’s plot. Soon, feeling the time was ripe, Wu Sansi fabricated charges, accusing the five ministers of slandering Empress Wei, and had Emperor Zhongzong issue an edict. The five ministers were exiled to remote frontiers. Huan Yanfan was sent to Guizhou, where he was beaten to death; Jing Hui was exiled to Yazhou and murdered; Cui Xuanwei, Lu Hua, and Yuan Shuji were also exiled, their fates sealed. Though many officials lamented and protested, their voices were silenced and their fate unaltered.

Wu Sansi and Wei thus continued their collusion, corrupting the court, but that need not be detailed. Let us turn instead to Laizhou. Now, in the flourishing Tang Dynasty, treasures and wonders abound, and envoys from all corners come to pay tribute. This should be a good thing—an opportunity for the great nation, the land of propriety, to enlighten the barbarian chieftains and educate the masses. Yet every blessing holds its curse. Among the envoys visiting Tang, there are scholars like Abe no Nakamaro, but also rogues and impostors.

Laizhou’s governor, Liu Wenhua, had been restless and sleepless these days. Why? Because Japanese ronin linger in his city. Most of the Japanese envoys to Tang landed at Laizhou before traveling onward to the imperial capital, Chang’an.

Japan was small, its land poor, and its people uncivilized and ignorant. Local warlords fought constantly over food and rivers, slaughtering each other. Many defeated samurai, fleeing the battlefield, became wanderers. Japan, being small, meant these outcasts often crossed paths; former enemies from the field became rivals in the wandering world, and the killings continued.

Over time, most samurai harbored dreams of escaping Japan. At that time, Japan greatly admired the Tang Dynasty; not only did the emperor send envoys yearly to study, but local lords also sent people to Tang under various pretexts. These were collectively called “envoys to Tang.” The wandering samurai would claim to be servants, guards, or attendants of these envoys, crossing the sea to Tang. Once within Tang’s borders, lacking official credentials and not sent by the Japanese government, the Tang authorities would not support their food and lodging, nor would the envoys themselves spend money on them, so they were left to fend for themselves. These samurai, unwilling to return home and lacking funds to travel inland, often stayed in Laizhou.

By now, their number had reached almost three thousand. Most could not speak Chinese, nor did they possess skills in farming, medicine, or trade; their sole talent was wielding a blade. Though, so far, they were intimidated by Tang laws and caused no trouble, over time, as their clothing and food ran out, desperation might drive them to crime.

Liu Wenhua, wanting to prevent any mishap, considered using his local troops to drive them away, but his advisers all objected. First, although these samurai were wanderers, they claimed to be attendants of the Japanese envoys, and forcibly expelling them could affect diplomatic relations. Second, they were all desperate men; if soldiers were sent and a riot broke out, it would be a major upheaval. Third, even if he drove them away, where would they go? Sending them to other provinces would shift the burden onto others, which no local governor would accept. They couldn’t be driven into the sea to drown, as that would be excessive.

To Liu Wenhua, these Japanese seemed like hungry wolves, ready to attack at any moment. Just as he fretted, an adviser offered a suggestion: these Japanese came from islands and must be skilled at sea. Shatonghai, a local magnate, specialized in maritime affairs—perhaps he could be persuaded to take these Japanese aboard his ships as sailors or guards. Once at sea, on lone vessels far from land, they would pose less risk; even if trouble arose, it would not affect the mainland. The idea was sound, but Shatonghai was experienced and not easily fooled; would he agree?

Despite his unease, Liu Wenhua summoned his sedan and visited Shatonghai’s mansion. The governor’s visit could not be taken lightly, and Shatonghai hurried to greet him at the door. Liu Wenhua wasted no time, quickly explaining his intent. Shatonghai’s steward, Zhong Xian, replied with an apologetic smile, “Master Liu, my lord is your subject and should share your burdens. But these Japanese barbarians are uneducated and unruly, and sea voyages are perilous. If they refuse to obey, it could lead to shipwreck and disaster.”

Liu Wenhua grew angry, “Don’t think I don’t know—the number of Japanese on your ships is hardly small! Some may have even been pirates preying on our coasts. Hmph, I might order your shipping company to cease operations and thoroughly investigate your crew!”

Zhong Xian signaled secretly, and Shatonghai quickly said, “Please, sir, don’t do that. Others might think we have something to hide. Your orders will be followed—whatever you command, I will comply.”

Liu Wenhua’s anger turned to joy, and he laughed, “Now that’s more like it! You help me solve this problem, and I won’t let you suffer. I’ll first grant you a thousand bushels of grain so those people don’t starve—wouldn’t want others to laugh that Tang can’t feed its guests. Just make sure those men are taken off Laizhou’s land; I don’t care where you send them, but I don’t want to see them again. Do you hear me?”

Shatonghai thought for a moment, “If you don’t want to see them, that’s easy. To the east of Laizhou lies Bamboo Island, large enough and far from the city, with abundant fresh water. Our ships often stop there for supplies. Why not send them there? It’s still Tang territory, though, so your approval is needed.”

Liu Wenhua laughed wryly, “Old Sha, you look like the rough Zhang Fei but your mind is as careful as Wang Zhaojun. That Bamboo Island—no official has set foot there in ages. Use it as you wish; who cares about approval?”

After Liu Wenhua left, Zhong Xian burst out laughing, “Heaven helps us! Heaven helps us! Prince Linzi just asked us to build up our strength, and now Liu Wenhua delivers three thousand strong men!”

Shatonghai asked, “Why did you refuse at first?” Zhong Xian replied, “You don’t know, sir. If we had immediately agreed, Liu Wenhua wouldn’t have mentioned the grain, and he might suspect we had plans for these men, making him wary. Now, after much coaxing and threat, he thinks he’s outwitted us and will no longer suspect. We can establish a martial training camp on Bamboo Island and train these Japanese into a formidable force.”

Shatonghai was displeased, “Old Zhong, you’ve seen these Japanese—they’re short, bow-legged, and look like little monsters. What use are they? I’d rather leave them to fend for themselves on Bamboo Island.”

Zhong Xian replied earnestly, “Absolutely not. Though their appearance is crude, their temperament is fierce and combative. Moreover, each survived countless battles in Japan—they’re elite fighters. If we use them wisely, the results will be extraordinary.”

Shatonghai hesitated, “They’re not our kind; their hearts may be different. If Prince Linzi needs them, can they be trusted?”

Zhong Xian smiled, “No worries, sir. In Japan they might desert, but here they cannot. They don’t know the language, the land, or any trade. They have no choice but to serve you faithfully. Even if things go wrong and they’re captured, interrogation would be difficult due to the language barrier.”

Shatonghai asked, “You think there’s no one in Chang’an who speaks Japanese?”

Zhong Xian answered, “There are a few, but unlike Laizhou, where sea trade is common and many understand Japanese, in Chang’an such people are rare. By the time officials trace them to us, we’ll be long gone, sailing far from Tang’s shores. In the end, the case will close as a border pirate incident.”

Upon hearing this, Shatonghai was secretly delighted. “Very well, old Zhong, I’ll leave this matter to you.”