Chapter 4: The Physician's Pulse

When Su Ming came back to Yongxi Hall, the Emperor was sitting up in bed with a black scowl.

"You left," said Xiao Jue.

"The Empress Dowager summoned this one, Your Majesty."

"I woke and the bed was empty and the sun was in my eyes." The Emperor's voice was rough.

"Gao Shun says I slept four hours."

"Nearly five," said Gao Shun from the corner, with great care.

"I do not sleep four hours. I have not slept four hours in nine years."

Xiao Jue glared at Su Ming.

"What did you put in that cup?"

"Black bean, licorice and a dried root," said Su Ming. "You watched me make it."

"Then what did you do?"

"I talked about my nurse," said Su Ming. "It has never put anyone to sleep before. I'm sorry for it."

For a moment the Emperor looked ready to laugh, or to throw a pillow.

He did neither.

"Fetch the Imperial Physician," he said instead. "I want it settled whether this man is dying or deceiving me."

The Imperial Physician arrived within the quarter hour.

He was sixty, thin and stooped, with a wisp of white beard and very clean soft hands.

He bowed to the Emperor, and then to Su Ming with the gentle sorrow of a man who sees too many sickbeds.

"Give me your wrist, Consort Su."

Su Ming gave it.

The physician's fingers settled on the pulse and stayed there a long time.

Su Ming made his pulse small and quick and uneven, as his old nurse had taught him, the pulse of a man with a bad liver.

It was a trick, but he felt the old man hesitate on it.

Then the Imperial Physician let go and turned to the Emperor with his brow creased.

"Weak in the blood, Majesty. The cup left residue in the stomach."

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