A Scandal

Sir Mao's study was peaceful. Lined with elegant mahogany shelves, polished till they gave off a sooty glow, it was decorated tastefully with various precious objects. An exquisite jar of milky white porcelain gleamed faintly in one corner; directly opposite Mao Yuan's table sat a large scholar's rock on an ornately carved rosewood pedestal. It had been a gift from Sir Wen, a rare piece with great power and energy in its writhing lines. Sometimes when the light was low there seemed to be faces appearing in its shadows.

The old man sat at his inlaid low table, brows furrowed as he read a letter intently. He could have been a stone statue, he was so still. Likewise, the motionless figure of Han Sheng at his customary post by the pillar, where he could see both the door way and his master's face from a distance, ever ready to step forward at the motion of a hand. The man stood erect, his chest barely moving with his breathing. His face was impassive; there did not seem to be any emotions to be found in it except for the watchfulness that was always there.

There was a sudden snarl of rage, and Mao Yuan started up from his table, crumpling the letter viciously in his hands and tearing it to shreds in a fit of temper. Han Sheng remained motionless; only the muscles in his face flinched. The bodyguard watched his lord carefully, studying his dark face and the stormy look in Mao Yuan's eyes.

"My lord," he said lowly, with a questioning note in his voice.

Mao Yuan gnawed his lip irritably, the side of it curling upwards in a snarl. "That idiot Hong. I knew he would make a mess of this. I'll need to call on Lord Yang for a favour again. If this gets to the wrong ears--"

He slammed his hand down on the table and the shreds of paper fluttered out from under it like a flock of frightened birds. His hot breath caught in his throat and he coughed, a hard brittle sound.

Han Sheng started forward. "My lord. Remember your health. Do not be vexed."

Mao Yuan slowly eased himself back down, meditatively. He composed himself, drawing a long breath, and the old haughtiness fell back onto him like a robe, as the rage faded away.

"He's dead, at least. That's a comfort. I would never rest if I knew that tongue was around to wag. Ah, I should never have trusted that fellow. I knew he was a weak one." he murmured to himself, brooding.

Mao Yuan swept the last shreds of paper absently off the table, already forgetting them. "We must make a move before that old fox Jin takes advantage of this. We'll have Lord Yang over. And wait. Send this letter to Gao Wei. He needs to take care of the loose ends for me. I'm not taking any chances. I can't afford to now."

He smoothed out a sheet of paper and reached for his brush.

Han Sheng stepped forward with a bow. "My lord. Let me settle it."

Mao Yuan thought for a while. He shook his head decisively without looking up. "No. Let Gao Wei handle something small like this. I need you with me, for more important things."

Unexpectedly, he put his brush down, and looked squarely at his bodyguard. "How's the Young Mistress?"

Han Sheng considered. "She is in her chamber. She has not gone out at all today. Xiaojun is with her."

"Good. I've been so caught up dealing with this mess of Hong's that I didn't have time to deal with her. I've heard some ridiculous rumours that I was going to speak to her about."

He sighed. "Ah, Xiang Er. This wilful daughter of mine. I've let her have her way as long as she entertains herself harmlessly. But this is something new. Chasing after a peasant? A woodcutter, if the wildest rumours I've heard can be believed. Xiang Er has always been so haughty. I wouldn't believe it at first, it was simply too ridiculous. But the rumours persisted. I caught the servants whispering about it earlier on."

The muscles in his jaw tightened. "At a time like this, how dare she run around making a fool of herself. The Maos are a respected name, not to be bandied about in disgraceful rumours. The last thing I need is a scandal to worry about. She should know better than to make trouble like this."

He wrote rapidly and set down his brush. "Take this to Gao Wei and make sure no one sees you. Return immediately. I will send a man to prepare a gift for Lord Yang, and invite him over for dinner. Tell the cooks to prepare a feast, with plenty of good wine."

Mao Yuan rose as he handed the missive to Han Sheng with a significant look. Han Sheng bowed and tucked it away inside his tunic. He bowed lowly with his hand on the hilt of his sword. "I will not let you down, my lord."

He turned and hurried from the chamber. Mao Yuan gazed thoughtfully after him. "I suppose I should pay Xiang Er a visit now," he murmured to himself. "That little minx. It looks like I have spoilt her too much."

For the first time, he noticed that in his agitation he had gotten a bit of ink onto the edge of his sleeve. He made a mental note to tell the servants to discard this robe. Ah, that was unlike himself. Hong's dismal failure and the danger he had put them all into had really shaken him. Physician Han had told him not to get agitated, but at a time like this how could he possibly stay calm? And Xiang Er. If she was going to become stubborn and uncooperative with him--

His eyes were distant as he stared at the scholar's stone in front of him, tracing the curves and knots of it, so fluid, yet so solid at the same time. Power. To be truly powerful, one had to consolidate all one's strength, without wasting, without weakness, without sparing. One had to be fluid, resilient. Unceasingly watchful, to nip things in the bud before they became monsters. He had learnt that much.