But it wasn't until the earliest streaks of light touched the sky that he remembered something else. He recalled what she'd said to the emperor to begin this whole evening's debacle: something interesting about rebels and servants and the underlying cause of the revolt.
That intrigued him. He found it strangely perceptive, especially from a woman. Had she overheard someone say that? Maybe her father? Or had she thought of it on her own? He had to know, but he had to be subtle. It wouldn't do to bring more attention to himself or her.
He waited another hour until the sun rose, then went about his duties while surreptitiously searching for her. He found the women's doctor instead. He only now remembered that he had forgotten to dismiss her last night. He had summoned her for Ji Yue, but had never brought the girl in. One look at the physician forestalled his words of apology.
"You look exhausted," he said with shock. Then dismay blossomed in his heart. "Was there some emergency last night? Something I wasn't notified about?" Something that happened while I was in a tree making an imperial virgin spill cream over and over again?
Xie Yan glared at him. "Emergency?" she snapped. "No. Just endless complaint after stupid complaint. Was there a riot last night?"
He frowned. "They attacked Chen Ji Yue because the emperor complimented her hair pin."
The doctor rolled her eyes. "I did not see Chen Ji Yue. But I saw every other ridiculous scratch and bump these cosseted babies could think of. They miss their mothers!" she snapped. "Girls who wish to be empress should not miss their mothers!" She kept muttering as she stomped away from him. At the last moment she shot a glare over her shoulder. "I am going to bed. Do not call for me again unless someone is in childbirth."
He nodded. No chance of that, especially since the day would be spent discovering family histories and fortunate horoscopes. During the family history exam, the virgins would be questioned about their birth, their parentage, their parents' births and beyond. The information was never officially recorded, but he wished to be sure that no imposter accidentally became empress. As much as possible, their answers would be verified before any girl entered the final Festival of Fertility. With that thought in mind, he headed to the place where Chen Ji Yue recounted her lineage.
It took some time to find her. A dozen other tasks had to be dispatched before he arrived, but he was there for most of her recitation. She was indeed the person she claimed to be: Chen Ji Yue, the daughter of a red bannerman, the lowest of the aristocracy. She recited correctly the list of her father's, grandfather's and great-grandfather's accomplishments. She also knew the astrological fortunes of their births and deaths, their lives and that of all their sons.
When Bo Tao asked, she also recited the names of her mother, grandmothers and great-grandmothers, though the interrogator looked at Bo Tao strangely for the question. Bo Tao ignored him, stepping forward to ask more personal questions.
"Your father passed the civil service exam and now lives here in Peking as a legal advisor to the Dragon Throne?"
Ji Yue nodded. "He works very hard and is extremely loyal."
Bo Tao waved aside the standard words. "Have you ever assisted him with his work?"
Her expression turned wary. "What do you mean? I am a woman. How would I ever help my father?"
"But you do, don't you? And your mother, as well."
"Of course not!" she said with a shudder. "I would never do such a thing!"
She was lying. He was sure of it. But he couldn't press further with the interrogator in the room. With a slight bow of apology, he decided to make amends. "I had to ask, Chen Ji Yue. Your father's work is most brilliant." Another lie. Ji Yue's father was an acceptable lawyer, but not a great one.
Ji Yue was still affronted. "You cast aspersions on my father's good name! Such a suggestion could ruin him!" The fear in her tone was real, and he made another attempt at apology.
"Sometimes I ask groundless questions to see how a woman reacts. I swear to you, neither I nor Mr. Wu believes your father to be anything less than a most honest and loyal man of great capability." He glanced at the inquisitor. "Is that not true, Mr. Wu?"
The man nodded, his eyes huge. Bo Tao made a mental note to step into a few more interrogations and ask ridiculous questions just to cover his tracks. He straightened and smiled genially at Ji Yue. "The questioning is done. Thank you, Mr. Wu," he said to the inquisitor. "I am sure you would like a break now. Go to the kitchens and ask for some tea. I believe they are making fresh pork bao this morning."
The man's eyes lightened and he rose quickly. Mr. Wu was known to be a great lover of pork bao. Ji Yue rose, as well, bowing to them both as she started to withdraw. Then Bo Tao snapped his finger.
"One moment please, Chen Ji Yue. The head eunuch wished something from you. What was it?" Then he made a show of trying to remember while the interrogator grabbed his coat and departed, his long queue whipping behind him in his haste.
The moment the door shut behind him, Bo Tao's expression turned harder. "The truth now, Ji Yue. I swear I will not harm your father in any way, but I must know the truth. You and your mother help him, do you not?"
Ji Yue flushed. "No!"
"Do not lie to me!" He did not shout the words, but released them as a low growl. He had found that to be much more effective than bellowing, and it worked on Ji Yue. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip.
"My father is a brilliant man!"
"Of course he is," Bo Tao soothed. "But no man can do the volume of work that he accomplishes. Someone must help him."
Ji Yue squirmed. "Sometimes my father's hand cramps. I write as he dictates."
"And your mother?"
She bit her lip. "The same."
Just as he suspected. "How many of the Confucian texts have you read?"
She blinked. "It is helpful to understand the context of what he dictates."
"How many?"
"All."
He began listing off all the texts required in a man's education. She had read half and was familiar with all. Then he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in thought. "If you were a man…" He let his voice trail away suggestively.
"But I'm not," she said with some bitterness. "I am a woman." She raised her eyes to meet his directly. "I am a woman who can help a man who lives and breathes politics. I am a woman who understands his frustrations even as she soothes his weary body. I will bear his sons and listen to his problems." She straightened to her full height. "I will make an excellent empress."
He swallowed down a surge of fury at her words. It wasn't rational, and so he suppressed it, but it made his voice hard. "The emperor could not acknowledge your words last night. No woman should dare to question his rule."
"I was trying to make an impression," she snapped.
"You succeeded." Then he folded his arms. "You said he must look to the underlying cause of the rebellion. The Dragon Throne needs to know—what did you mean by that? What cause do you see beneath the Taiping uprising?"
Her eyes turned pensive, but when she spoke, he heard conviction in every word. "My father is honest and so we are poor. Even for a lowly lawyer, bribes are rampant. Surely as master of these festivities, you know of what I speak."
He grimaced. Of course he knew. As China grew, so did the layers of bureaucracy. And where there were bureaucrats, there was the tendency toward graft.
"My father values his integrity more than his wealth, but others are not so wholesome." She shifted, then abruptly stepped forward in her earnestness. "The peasants follow two things: food and hope. Rebel leader Hong Xiu Quan offers both. Why doesn't the government offer its people something so simple? Why do the outlying governors give so little to the people they are sworn to protect?"