Chapter 9: The Table on the Roof

The morning after the Court of Review's scroll came, an envoy from the Ministry of Rites arrived at the Ge gate.

He brought his own table.

"Let me do this alone," Wenxuan said at the door of the great hall.

His hair was in order, and his mouth was still a little pink.

Zhenyuan had kissed him in the passage a moment ago, and neither of them had pretended otherwise.

"No."

"Zhenyuan."

He had used the name only twice, and it still went straight through him.

"If you're in the room, they'll say you're pressuring me," Wenxuan said. "Stand behind the screen. Don't come out unless I call you."

So Zhenyuan stood behind a lacquered screen in his own house, with his fists clenched.

He listened to the Ministry of Rites try to take his husband apart.

The envoy was a smooth young man in a purple coat with a stool and a clerk.

He did not offer Wenxuan a chair.

He asked questions in a pleasant, quick voice.

Had Champion Jing seen letters in the Marshal's study?

Had he heard the Marshal speak of the north at night?

Did the Marshal keep a seal in a locked chest?

Wenxuan answered each in a light dry voice, with a thin edge of boredom.

"Your Excellency has a great interest in furniture," he said at the third question.

The clerk coughed to cover a laugh.

The envoy's smile thinned.

"Let me be frank, Champion. The Minister has a high regard for your talent."

"It would be a shame to see a young scholar dragged down by... his connections."

"I'm not sure I follow," said Wenxuan.

"You were given to this man as a joke. Surely there is resentment. Surely you'd welcome a way out."

He slid a paper across the table.

"Sign a statement that the Marshal has behaved suspiciously at home."

"In return, the marriage is annulled," he went on, "and you receive a post in the Hanlin Academy."

"It's a very fair offer."

Zhenyuan's nails cut into his palms.

The pause stretched.

He knew exactly what Wenxuan could do with that paper.

He could sign, and be free, and never be laughed at again.

He knew every reason a man in his position would sign.

"I do have a few notes," said Wenxuan.

He picked up the brush.

Zhenyuan held his breath.

Wenxuan wrote briskly, and turned the paper around and pushed it back.

"Your statement has an error in the third line, Excellency."

"You've written 'suspiciously' with the wrong character. The Ministry of Rites should be able to write. Also, no."

The envoy stared at the paper.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No. I'm not signing," said Wenxuan. "Please tell the Minister that I'm very happy at home and I like my husband."

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