Palace of Lies: The Man Her Magic Cannot Read

On Jiang Zhaoye’s first day inside the imperial palace, she took the place of a records scribe who had just been pulled from a well. The stretcher passed beneath the Black Tortoise Gate under a soaked white sheet. A pale hand swayed with every step. Its index fingernail had been torn off, and white mortar clung beneath it. The dead woman’s document satchel was gone, leaving only a cut cord. Yet her hair remained perfectly arranged, and the wooden pin in her bun bore no scratch. The eunuch escorting Zhaoye pushed her toward the wall. “Don’t look. Women in the Court Records Office rarely live long.” “What was her name?” “Yao Qingdai. She recorded testimony at Changchun Palace last night, then slipped into a well. You’re her replacement.” When he said slipped, the old book hidden in Zhaoye’s sleeve did not stir. The gray-covered book had shown its writing to her alone since her mother died six years ago. It recognized lies spoken with intent, but not mistaken beliefs, silence, or carefully trimmed half-truths. The eunuch might only be repeating what he had heard. The book’s silence proved nothing. Still, Zhaoye’s name had not been on the original list of women entering palace service. An urgent order had arrived at the ruined Jiang residence around nine the previous night, commanding her to replace a scribe who had “fallen ill.” Now that scribe was leaving under a wet sheet. Imperial guards surrounded Changchun Palace. The empress had begun bleeding after drinking a pregnancy-stabilizing decoction. Physicians found an herb in the dregs that increased bleeding, while the waxed paper covering the bowl carried inspection seals from both the Imperial Medical Office and Changchun Palace’s dispensary. The emperor had ordered statements taken from every palace before the Judicial Office arrived. Inside the side hall, Noble Consort Gu Mingshu sat on a rosewood couch, a handkerchief pressed to one eye. Far too much agarwood burned in a gilded incense burner. Chief Court Lady Liang frowned at Zhaoye. “Where is Yao Qingdai?” “Dead,” the eunuch said. “The Judicial Office ordered a replacement.” The consort’s gaze passed over Zhaoye like a glance over a pen stand. “Your name?” “Records Scribe Jiang Zhaoye.” “If you can write, you’ll do.” Liang pushed official testimony paper toward her. “Record only Her Highness’s exact words.” Zhaoye wrote the date, palace, examiner, and witnesses. Inside her sleeve, the old book opened to a fresh page. Gu Mingshu turned toward the window. “I fear for Her Majesty, but I sent no one out of this palace last night, nor did I touch the medicine delivered to Fengyi Palace. Someone is using waxed paper to implicate Changchun Palace.” As Zhaoye completed the words sent no one, blood-red ink crossed the hidden page. [LIE.] [THE SCENT OF MEDICINE REMAINS.] Six years earlier, the book had marked the official story of her parents’ ruin with the same word. It had never provided the missing proof. Zhaoye had learned that a direction was not an answer. She finished recording and studied the attendants beside the consort. An older court lady stood expressionless. A young maid carrying tea had gone white. Nearest the incense burner, a woman in blue added another piece of agarwood. An unnatural yellow stain coated her fingertips. Wet mud ringed her shoes, glittering with tiny white flecks. Changchun Palace’s courtyard was paved in blue brick. Only the eastern passage bordered an old wall under repair, where fresh mortar lay at the base. Zhaoye breathed carefully. Beneath the heavy agarwood lingered a bitter, scorched scent. Her mother had once managed a pharmacy ledger; otherwise, Zhaoye might have mistaken it for incense. “Why did you stop?” Liang asked. “Official testimony must specify time.” Zhaoye lowered her eyes. “When Her Highness says she sent no one out last night, does she mean after the gates were locked at six, or after the empress took her medicine at ten?” Gu Mingshu’s hand stilled. “After the gates were locked.” “Was the eastern side gate opened?” No words appeared in the Ledger. After a pause, the consort said, “I do not manage the gate keys.” She had avoided claiming the gate remained closed. Zhaoye recorded her exact answer. The Ledger could expose a lie, but it could not complete a truth someone refused to speak. Liang’s face hardened. “A lowly scribe is asking too many questions.” “If the time is unclear, the Judicial Office will return the statement for correction. I can remove the question if you accept responsibility.” Times were sacred in palace records. Liang could not accept. “Keep it.” The consort gave a soft laugh. “The newcomer knows her rules.” The woman in blue retreated half a step. Her wet shoe left a broken print at the edge of the carpet. Zhaoye turned to the night-duty section. “Please name those responsible for the gates, keys, and medicine.” The older court lady answered, “Huiyun had the medicine. Zhao Fu held the keys.” So the woman in blue was Huiyun. “Did you prepare medicine last night?” Zhaoye asked her. “No. I only burned incense. I never touched medicinal ingredients.” A black line thickened across the hidden page. [HANDLED THEM.] Not poisoned. Not switched. Only handled. Huiyun bent to retrieve a bronze incense tool and touched the white floor tile. Yellow powder dusted the stone beneath her fingers. “Don’t move,” Zhaoye said. Every face turned toward her. She had exceeded a scribe’s authority. Zhaoye picked up the tool herself. “Ash fell near the testimony. I cannot answer for an official record if it is stained.” Huiyun clenched her hand and withdrew behind the consort. The warmth vanished from Gu Mingshu’s face. “Are you finished?” “I still need the night roster.” “Huiyun, fetch it.” Huiyun hurried toward the inner hall. As she passed the eastern window, the scorched bitterness around her sleeve grew stronger. She returned with a thin register. Every watch carried a signature, but the ink between nine and ten was darker than the entries before and after it. On the reverse, the newer line had bled through differently. Someone had added it after the original ink dried. From outside came the measured click of swords striking officials’ jade belts. Servants lowered their heads as the curtain lifted. The man who entered wore the black uniform of the Judicial Office, rain darkening his shoulders. A black-silver fish tally hung at his waist. His gaze went first to the incense burner, then to the mortar on Huiyun’s shoes, and finally to Zhaoye’s testimony. Chief Court Lady Liang bowed. “Deputy Chief Pei.” Pei Yanzhou offered no greeting. “Seal all three gates. Separate everyone named on last night’s roster.” Gu Mingshu’s voice turned cold. “Do you consider me a criminal?” “I investigate the dead, Your Highness.” The Ledger remained unnaturally still. A subordinate brought forward a tray holding white mortar from beneath Yao Qingdai’s nail and a strand of moss. “Yao Qingdai did not fall by accident,” Pei said. “She was dead before she entered the well. The mortar beneath her nail matches the new mortar on Changchun Palace’s eastern wall.” He looked at the consort. “Take your time remembering whose testimony she recorded last night—and what she saw beside that wall.” Only then did Gu Mingshu look at Zhaoye again. This time, her gaze remained for three heartbeats. Zhaoye’s brush stopped after the first stroke of the character for east. Pei noticed. He crossed the room and reached for her statement. The Ledger gave no warning—not even the comfort of an error. Most people became simpler when it judged them. Pei became more dangerous. He read the page from beginning to end. One eyebrow rose at her question about the eastern gate. “Jiang Zhaoye?” “Yes.” “Your first day in the palace?” “Yes.” “Yao Qingdai’s body had barely left when you began asking about the eastern wall.” He closed the statement. “When the Judicial Office investigates a murder, we do not always begin with the last person to touch the victim. Sometimes we begin with the first person who knew where to look.” He handed the page to his subordinate without taking his eyes from her. “Keep Scribe Jiang here as well.”