Auspicious Beast

Li Xi felt a vague sense of unease. He had no objection to bullying Qiu Shiliang, and tormenting a eunuch was something he could watch from the sidelines, since it had nothing to do with him. But to so brazenly insult a person's dignity was something he found hard to stomach.

After all, eunuchs were people too.

He snuck a glance at Li Zhan, who was rolling his eyes—more white than black in his gaze—lost in some private thought. Suddenly, a thought struck Li Xi: it seemed Li Zhan hadn’t sent Qiu Shiliang off to bathe as some calculated slight, but rather as an offhand remark, without any particular malice.

Li Xi decided to help Lieutenant Qiu this time. With a flicker of wit, he hatched a plan. He took the tea from the attendant and presented it to Li Zhan, saying respectfully, “Your Highness, please have some tea.”

Li Zhan grunted, accepted the bowl, but did not drink. He set it on the table. Li Xi, however, called out, “His Highness isn’t used to this tea. Bring another bowl.” The attendant hurried to fetch another, but Li Zhan still did not drink, lost in his own musings.

Li Xi had the attendant change the tea again, and again, until five or six bowls had been swapped. Sweat beaded on the attendant’s brow as he wondered—was his tea so poor? He’d only ever served rough soldiers, never royalty; surely this was the end for him.

On the ninth bowl, Li Zhan finally took a sip, then suddenly hurled the bowl to the ground. “I’m not even thirsty! Why am I drinking tea?” he exclaimed. Rising, he called to Qiu Shiliang, who was still slowly taking off his boots, “Stop dawdling. Come with me to the Spring Pavilion.”

Qiu Shiliang, as if receiving a pardon, clutched his boots and hurried after him. Li Zhan turned back to Li Xi and said, “After today’s banquet, come to my residence. You are not to leave until I return, or I’ll see you punished severely.”

Without so much as a glance at the kneeling crowd seeing him off, Li Zhan strode out, arms behind his back, head held high. At the courtyard gate, Qiu Shiliang looked back at Li Xi with a meaningful glance.

The seven-year-old Prince Li Zhan was famous for his love of games and gambling. The stipend allotted by the court barely covered his expenses, and to fill his coffers, he had racked his brains for schemes. He had one foolproof moneymaking trick called “Guess the Beast”: he’d lead in some strange creature and challenge people to name it. Guess correctly, and he’d pay them; fail, and they’d owe him.

With this ploy, he had extorted untold sums within the palace, from his imperial grandfather the Emperor Li Chun, the Empress Dowager, the favored consorts, down to the palace maids and eunuchs. If he’d done it only occasionally, perhaps it would have been tolerated, but he made a habit of it—seventy or eighty times a month—who could endure that?

At his wit’s end, Li Chun instructed a court scholar to petition the Emperor: under the pretext of preventing injuries from wild beasts, a decree was issued forbidding all wild animals from entering the palace. Thus Li Zhan’s scheme was cut short.

Li Zhan lay low for a while, but soon grew restless—life without spending money was hard to bear. After some reflection, he came up with a new idea: if wild beasts were forbidden, why not bring in cooked ones? He’d have a beast captured and cooked, then have eunuchs carry it in for “Guess the Beast.”

Once again, the palace was in uproar. Li Chun, both exasperated and amused, wished to let his grandson be, but could not withstand the consorts’ incessant complaints. Another decree was issued: this time, the word “wild” was struck out, and all animals, whether alive or cooked, were prohibited from entering the palace without imperial permission.

Li Zhan sulked for a month. After much soul-searching, he realized his grandfather did not object to his money-making games in principle—otherwise, punishment would have come swiftly. It was only because he’d gone too far that the old man was forced to intervene. If he were more restrained, causing less disturbance, surely his grandfather would turn a blind eye.

Having made up his mind, Li Zhan shaved the heads of two young eunuchs and painted their faces to look like bizarre beasts, then paraded them around the palace for “Guess the Beast.” If he couldn’t bring in animals, surely people couldn’t be forbidden.

To avoid the wrath of the influential consorts, this time Li Zhan changed his target, visiting the retired dowagers rather than the powerful favorites, and reduced the sums involved—just ten strings of cash per visit. No one minded; the old dowagers even found it amusing.

The ruse worked smoothly, but it did not satisfy Li Zhan’s extravagant needs; he was still short of money. After some thought, he resolved to attempt something even bolder. Risky, yes, but the rewards would be enormous if he succeeded.

He would risk it all! On the eve of the banquet at the Taiji Palace, Prince E, Li Zhan, made up his mind. At dawn, he brought a bowl of ginger tea he’d brewed himself to pay respects to his imperial grandfather, Li Chun. Li Chun, who had been up all night, was practicing his exercises on the palace terrace. Seeing his grandson’s filial gesture, he laughed heartily.

After drinking the tea, he pinched Li Zhan’s little nose and asked, “Li Zhan, your tea is excellent, and your devotion even rarer. I must reward you—what would you like?”

Li Zhan bowed and said, “Grandson wishes to toast the soldiers who have rendered meritorious service, to thank them for their deeds.”

Li Chun stroked his grandson’s head, his eyes shining with wisdom. He knew Li Zhan’s request was just a pretext to join the festivities and stir up mischief, and could guess his real intentions. For a boy of seven or eight to have such cunning and daring—Li Chun admired it. In these troubled times, a ruler too timid or indecisive spells no good for the realm. If his sons and grandsons all had such spirit, there was hope for the dynasty yet.

With this thought, Li Chun resolved to support his grandson’s mischief, even if it turned the palace upside down. He must set an example for the imperial clan: a Li must not fear being unruly, only being cowardly. Courage and cunning were the traits to emulate.

Whoever truly understood his intentions, he would entrust the empire to them.

Li Chun granted his grandson’s request, and summoned Qiu Shiliang, instructing him, “Accompany Li Zhan and follow his orders.”

The Inner Attendant was a close servant to the Emperor, an official of modest rank but great proximity. With Qiu Shiliang in tow, Li Zhan swaggered into the Taiji Palace and revealed his true colors. He ordered his attendants to seize Qiu Shiliang, forced him into a new robe, painted two black circles around his eyes, dusted his nose white, and placed a rope around his neck. In no time, Qiu Shiliang had been transformed into the “Qiu Auspicious Beast.”

Leading his “Auspicious Beast,” Li Zhan went door to door at dawn, visiting the various palaces, calling on dowagers and concubines. He would announce, “Anyone who can name this beast receives ten silver ingots; anyone who cannot must pay ten strings of cash.”

From dawn until sunrise, Li Zhan had extorted a cartload of gold, silver, and jewels, and sent his attendants to transport the loot to his residence. After a brief rest, he hurried to meet the officials from the Ministry of Rites, the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, the Imperial Household Department, and the various guard bureaus, all arriving to prepare the banquet.

Li Zhan stationed himself at the gate, pointed at Qiu Shiliang, and declared, “Anyone who can name my treasure will be rewarded with a thousand gold coins; those who cannot must pay ten strings of cash.” The officials looked and saw that the beast was Qiu Shiliang, the favored attendant of the Emperor—clearly, this was extortion with imperial sanction. Who would dare object, let alone refuse to pay? All meekly accepted their losses.

But who brings ten strings of cash to the palace? So they handed over whatever gold, silver, jade, or jewelry they had as fines. In no time, Li Zhan had another basketful of treasures, which he promptly sent home.

As the banquet hall was prepared and more officials arrived, Li Zhan’s hoard grew: copper coins, gold bars, silver ingots, pearls, jade pendants, rings, even false teeth…

Staring at the mountains of “fines,” Li Zhan began to grow anxious.

He’d gone too far this time. He had expected perhaps a few hundred strings of cash, but he’d amassed so much more. The sheer amount made his hands tremble. With such a stir, his grandfather was sure to hear of it—how could he explain himself? If anyone used this as a pretext to make trouble, the consequences would be dire.

No, he had to think of a good excuse—think, think…

Li Zhan paced with his “Auspicious Beast,” racking his brains to no avail. At last, he gave up with a sigh: better to go ask Grandmother for advice. A beating or a scolding—he’d just have to accept it.

The thought of his grandmother, Lady Guo, and her stern face made him wilt like a frostbitten eggplant. He wandered aimlessly th