The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 4 - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Lahan

Sometime after noon, a diminutive, fox-eyed man showed up at Jinshi’s office—Lahan. Gaoshun and Basen were at the office along with Jinshi, and they were dealing with an even larger mass of paperwork than usual.

“So that’s what’s happened,” Jinshi said.

“It’s only a guess, but yes—that’s what I think.”

Lahan was a remarkable man. Being eccentric, but extraordinarily good at one particular thing, seemed to be a La family trait. By closely analyzing the movement of goods and metal, he had discovered that the Shi clan was up to something.

Lahan indicated a point on a map: a disused stronghold. For anyone, even a family whose loyal service stretched back to the days of Wang Mu, to rebuild an abandoned fortress for their own use could only be considered an act of treason. Jinshi wanted to clutch his head in his hands—but in deference to the fact that there was already a father-and-son team present with profound furrows in their brows, he refrained.

Just as he was telling himself that he had to focus on thinking about what to do, there was a jingle of the doorbell. He could hear footsteps approaching, and then the door was thrown open.

“Might I ask what you’re doing in here?” The question came from none other than the monocled strategist.

“Ah... Father.” Lahan, who had looked so confident until a moment before, frowned, folded up the map on the desk, and pursed his lips.

“Lahan, you can’t just go barging into the offices of noblemen! People will get the wrong idea. Strange ideas!” So saying, Lakan helped himself to a spot on the office couch, the one he’d had brought here himself on one of his previous incursions. He had yet to take it back, and so it still sat there.

“Particularly when no one can tell if the noble you’re visiting is a man or a woman,” he went on maliciously. Basen, standing beside Jinshi, was about to step forward and offer a few choice words of his own, but Gaoshun held out a hand to stop him.

They understood why Lakan was angry. His daughter had been abducted from under their noses, right out of the rear palace. This was a man who had smashed his way into the rear palace to find his girl; the only surprise was that it had taken him this long to come to Jinshi. Very well; Jinshi would submit to his slings and arrows. That was his responsibility. But he doubted Lakan had come here merely to abuse him.

Lahan stepped back dejectedly and worked his way behind Gaoshun. So there were things even this young man had trouble coping with. He seemed to be whispering something to Gaoshun; Basen was eyeing him skeptically, clearly wondering who this abacus-wielding interloper was.

Gaoshun summoned a messenger. Whatever he was doing seemed to hold no interest for the strategist, who stretched out on the couch and gave Jinshi a cold stare.

“I understand what you’re saying, Master Strategist. It was my own fecklessness that caused this,” Jinshi said. And he did understand: even if this was the first he was learning about the secret passage, even if no one had known about it before, it had been used for kidnapping and escape, and the responsibility lay squarely with him.

“Truer words were never spoken,” Lakan said. “What I want now is for you to rescue my daughter—immediately.”

Ah, how simple things would have been if only he were capable of that! At this moment, Jinshi was clearly Lakan’s enemy—and everyone at court knew you didn’t want to make Lakan your enemy. Yet even the strategist must have realized that open feuding with Jinshi at this point would serve no one. He had another foe—not Jinshi, but Shishou.

Jinshi thought about what had brought the strategist to his office. The man before him wasn’t interested in apprehending the culprits of a would-be rebellion against the throne—his priority was to rescue his dear, sweet daughter. Jinshi couldn’t fathom exactly what the man might be thinking, but he had obviously decided that the quickest way to get what he wanted was to come to Jinshi.

A lower official came in with tea, but when he saw the people present—and registered the tension among them—he set the drinks down quickly and showed himself out. Nobody touched the steaming tea, which gradually went cold. If only their heads could cool off so easily—but it was not to be.

“You do a sorry job in your sorry state. And you think things are just going to work out for you like that?”

Jinshi understood exactly what Lakan thought was “sorry” about him. He realized the strategist saw through him. Saw that Jinshi had carved out this position for himself in order to run away, because he had no confidence in what was supposed to be his true place.

The eye behind the monocle narrowed. Perhaps Lakan was hoping to make himself feel better, even the smallest bit, by cornering Jinshi in his own office. Basen looked ready to launch himself at Lakan, but Gaoshun held him back. Lahan looked on, distinctly and obviously uncomfortable.

Other sounds seemed to fade into the background; Jinshi heard clearly only the words of the strategist. “What more do you think you can do in the sorry guise of a half-man?” His voice was ruthless and cruel.

There was a long moment in which Jinshi was unsure how to respond. Finally he opened his mouth—but another, calmer voice spoke before he could.

“My apologies. I had no idea you took such a dim view of us.”

They discovered a stooped old man standing in the entryway. Behind him were some eunuchs, breathing heavily; they carried a palanquin in which they had evidently brought him at a dead run. The old man, Luomen, nodded to them, then entered the office, dragging one leg.

“Not, of course, that it was my personal preference to become a eunuch,” he said.

Lakan waved his hands in a mild panic in the direction of the huddled old man. “H-Honored Uncle! I meant nothing of the sort. I wasn’t talking about you!”

“No? And yet here I am, a sorry half-man. Can’t even walk properly. Reduced to riding around in a palanquin like a prince! In any case, am I not also culpable for my failure to have kept a proper eye on Maomao?” His aspect was almost grandmotherly; his mild gaze was upon the fox strategist. The military man with his monocle was so cowed he looked almost ridiculous.

“Phew. Just in time...” mumbled Lahan from behind them. When he whispered to Gaoshun, it must have been to suggest he summon Luomen.

Lakan, Lahan, and Luomen together made quite the spectacle. Lakan, imperious until a moment before, now acted like a young boy trying to soothe his distraught mother. Jinshi could almost have laughed out loud, but with a struggle, he refrained. He glanced behind himself to see Gaoshun with deep furrows on his brow—probably also restraining laughter. Only Basen seemed oblivious to what was going on, the question mark all but floating over his head as he listened to this exchange between uncle and nephew.

“You always have tended to get aggressive when you’re angry. But you must think of who you’re dealing with when you act.”

“I understand that, Honored Uncle. Even I know that much. I was simply responding in kind to what was said to me. I didn’t come here with the slightest intention of going so far.”

Jinshi had hardly said anything to Lakan, but he chose to remain quiet on that point for now. It was the politic thing to do.

“I should hope not. Perhaps you could tell him what really brought you here, then. Politely.” Luomen patted Lakan on the shoulder.

Silently, Lakan turned toward Jinshi. Then he got up, knelt before Jinshi, and pressed his fist into his palm in a gesture of respect. “I come in supplication. I humbly request that you mobilize the army to strike against the rebel, Shishou.”

Lakan was a grand commandant, in other words, a secretary of military affairs. Jinshi understood what it meant for such a person to ask for the army to be mobilized.

“The Shi clan appears to have been manufacturing feifa of the newest kind for years,” Lahan added. “We have more than enough evidence of their treachery.” He once again spread the materials he had shown Jinshi earlier on the desk. And that was not even to mention the attempted assassination of Jinshi or Loulan’s flight from the rear palace.

“Corruption ought to be rooted out and destroyed as quickly as possible,” said Luomen—even though he winced as he spoke. The kindhearted doctor was cut to the quick by the thought of war, even against rebels.

Moreover, he knew what it meant for Lakan to make this request of Jinshi. Why the strategist had upbraided him as a “half-man.”

For the government to move against the Shi clan would mean bringing to bear the Forbidden Army—a force commanded directly by the Emperor. It was not a senior captain like Lakan who would command these troops, but the one who stood at the very zenith of this nation.

The Emperor, though, could not simply jump up and march out of the capital. As such, a substitute would be necessary.

“How long do you mean to deceive us with that assumed form?” Lakan said, watching Jinshi through his monocle. Or rather, watching the man Ka Zuigetsu, who wore “Jinshi” like a second skin.

Zuigetsu swallowed heavily. He’d always known this moment would come. Now it had.

It was time for him to face it.