Most Honored Rénga,
Permit your unworthy son to wish you a thousand happy days in the space of a hundred, which is to say: May each of your days be ten times as happy as each regular day, which is not to say that there is a such a thing as a regular day for the overburdened and wise Emperor of the Islands of Dara, since each of your days must be ten times as worrisome as a day in the life of someone like me, therefore making the wish of a day ten times as happy, on balance, merely appropriate and deserving…. Ah, words trip over one another when this unworthy son tries to express his genuine affection and awe for his most august sovereign and father.
Your query in the last letter quite shocked and surprised me, and I have devoted all of my time to finding an answer. I believe I can now offer you a not-unsatisfactory response, which, to wit, is as follows.
Your query: Confirm that the candidates sent by Dasu to the Grand Examination this year are indeed from Dasu.
Answer: To fully answer this query required much research and precise definition of terms, as concepts such as “Dasu” and “from” and “sent by” are all contested and require some careful parsing….
[About thirty pages of dense Ano logograms later]
Jia jabbed Kuni in the ribs.
“Aw! Ahem! Excellent reading, excellent!” Somewhat disoriented, Kuni shouted at the mostly empty private audience hall.
“I was doing the reading,” said Jia, “not some scribe. Did you really fall asleep?”
“Asleep? No! I was merely resting my eyes.”
“How could you!”
“Jia, you can’t possibly blame me for this! Timu’s letters have gotten more and more tedious over time. He has always tended to pleonasm, but I’m afraid his prose has grown as out of control as the weeds at the edge of my garden.”
“Prince Timu’s style is… ornate,” said Risana.
“He takes ten sentences to say what could be said in one, which is to say, what others may—oh, look, he’s even gotten me to do it!”
“He’s just nervous when he has to write to you,” said Jia.
“Let’s focus on the answer he gave you,” prompted Risana.
“Can one of you summarize for me? I confess that I… didn’t quite get his answer.”
“He explained that yes, your suspicion was right. Of all the candidates sent to the Grand Examination from Dasu, almost half were from families who had moved to Dasu from the core islands within the last five years,” Jia said.
“I knew it!” Kuni called out triumphantly. “These rich families are all the same, always looking for a way to game the system.”
“It wasn’t a bad idea to reach a compromise with the protesting cashima from five years ago,” said Jia. “We all agreed that adding points to the scores of examinees from provinces outside of traditional areas of scholarly excellence like Haan and Géjira would achieve more regional balance among the firoa.”
Kuni sighed. “As soon as I agreed to the change, I suspected enterprising families from the core islands would move to places like Dasu and Tunoa in hopes of securing an advantage in the Imperial examinations for their offspring.”
“This is hardly in the spirit of your policy,” said a frowning Risana.
“No,” said Jia. “Though I suppose if the policy entices some Haan families to move to Dasu, it will, in a way, also help elevate the spirit of scholarship there.”
“I shall write to Timu to ask him to adjust the Provincial Examination system to reward those families who have been in Dasu longer—”
“Or you could just inform him of what you think is the problem and let him figure out the solution,” said Jia. “He’s supposed to solve problems for you, not the other way around, you know?”
Kuni agreed this was very wise.
My Dearest Father,
Between the time of my last letter to you and now, there has been a sudden spate of assassinations of officials and posters denouncing the House of Dandelion tacked to magistracy gates. Garrison soldiers have grown fearful and would not leave camp unless in twos or threes.
This was most surprising, as I thought the threat from the secret cults was on the verge of being eliminated.
An accounting of my reports to you will reveal that since our arrival in Tunoa two springs ago, Duke Coda and I have uncovered more than two hundred secret cults centered around the worship of the Hegemon. The cults varied in membership between a dozen to a few hundred, and most were harmless, composed of simple peasants venerating the memory of Tunoa’s favorite son. However, a small number of the cults used reverence for the Hegemon as a cover to foment rebellion, progressing as far as assassinating low-level Imperial officials and amassing weapons.
Pursuant to my decision early on to outlaw all private worship of Mata Zyndu and to direct all who wished to honor the Hegemon to the mausoleum in Farun, Duke Coda has been leading the effort to crack down on the troublemakers. You and I both have commended the speed with which he uncovered these nests of poisonous snakes and captured their leaders—sometimes it seemed as if he had a preternatural sense for where they would be found, as befitting the reputation of the Imperial Farsight Secretary.
Most of these cults were started by dissatisfied nobles of the old Tiro states, though a few were funded by Géjira merchants unhappy with your new policy of supporting the farmers at the expense of merchants by setting a price floor. We have been coordinating with Queen Gin to reveal the identities of all the merchants involved.
Meanwhile, we’ve also been mindful of your admonition to pair the whip with sweet apples. While we have executed the cult leaders publicly, ignorant men and women who supported the leaders out of a misguided devotion to the Hegemon were treated with leniency. Youthful scholars who possessed much passion but little wisdom and who published tracts against you were handed back to their parents so that they might stay home and reflect upon the errors of their ways. We’ve also increased the funding at the Hegemon’s mausoleum: The more worshippers who can be drawn there, the less fertile Tunoa becomes for would-be cultists.
Nonetheless, the recent upsurge in acts of defiance against the Dandelion Throne suggested that our policy required adjustment.
In the past, the secret cults tended to build their bases deep in the woods and hills, far away from the villages. This actually made them easy to spot by airship, as the cooking smoke from the camps would be visible from far away. However, no such signs were seen on recent air patrols. Duke Coda suspected that the cultists have adapted by hiding themselves better. He came up with a plan, which I heartily approved.
I restricted the shipment of wax and whale oil into Tunoa until most towns and villages had used up their supplies. Then I lifted the restrictions, but with an announcement that there might be further supply shortages down the road. Meanwhile, Duke Coda’s spies monitored the sale of wax and whale oil across Tunoa, noting where unusual amounts were being purchased. Duke Coda reasoned that the cultists must be sleeping during the day and operating at night. They would need candles and oil lamps for illumination, and the recent supply constraint and my announcement would induce them into purchasing large amounts for a hoard.