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When Xiaobo whispered the translation, Tsunenaga felt as if the main branch of a tree had been cut off inside of him. Seven years of wandering had just been thrown away. His report, which could provide the sole defense against the conquest of Japan, would not be received. His wife and his son would not see him again. With barely any voice and no expectations, he pled, “May I at least write letters to my lord and my family?”

The Emperor shook his head, and before Tsunenaga could inquire any further, Xiaobo raised a hand to signal him to stop. It would be a serious breach of protocol to force the Emperor to explain himself, although she knew, and she promised herself she’d explain to him afterwards, that the Japanese government must not find out that one of their samurai was effectively a prisoner; the Great Ming had enough enemies already.

Tsunenaga took a resigned breath. He saw no point in further conversation.

“What do you ask in return?” insisted the Emperor.

The question shook Tsunenaga. Was there any important thing left in the world? Other than fulfilling his duty to the lord of Sendai, what else mattered? He saw the answer and spoke. “At least allow the Jesuits back.” Xiaobo let out a gasp, which she hoped would be forgotten as soon as she relayed the shocking words to the Emperor. “Grant them full freedom to preach, to build churches, to make converts and ordain new priests from among the citizens of the empire.” She wasn’t sure how the Emperor was going to react to that, but she was sure she wouldn’t have aspired to that much for her own religion. “And they must be given the opportunity to teach their doctrine to Your Majesty.” She stared at Tsunenaga, aghast at his boldness.

“What did he say? Speak!”

Dutifully, she translated the last sentence, and Taichang’s mouth tightened before turning into a half-smile.

“Done,” he replied. “Anything else?”

Xiaobo kept her eyes aimed at the floor, not wishing to give even the slightest appearance of influencing the response. Lifting the ban on the Jesuits was a step in quite a different direction from what she’d expected. Her hopes of more space for Islam began to quaver. Tsunenaga noticed her distress, but he had no idea of her own stakes in the matter, and made a riskier assumption. “If I may make another request of Your Majesty’s generosity, I think some consideration should be given to ending the custom of binding women’s feet.”

Xiaobo suppressed a yelp of horror and started to quickly think of alternatives for what to say instead. She would have preferred to remain silent, but the towering presence of her sovereign compelled her to speak. After a burst of mental effort that she felt interminable, she said, “An equal measure of rights should be granted, without distinction, to every religion that is practiced throughout the Great Ming.”

Giving no sign of having sensed any deception, Taichang said, “I’ll have to think it over.”

Instead of translating that, she told Tsunenaga, “I just saved your life.”

The Emperor ordered food to be brought, and the conversation turned to more mundane affairs. Xiaobo found the seasoning pleasant, both sweet and spicy. Tsunenaga was questioned on his homeland, his family, and the finer points of his duties as a member of the samurai class. Xiaobo took the chance to learn more about Japanese customs. Even at an occasion of low danger, she remained alert.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said to Tsunenaga, once they were beyond earshot of the Emperor’s palace.

“He was in a generous mood. I wanted to do something for you.”

Her hands grasped each other to avoid hitting him. “You don’t have to do anything for me.” She wanted to yell, but remembered not to. “Actually, you can’t do anything for me. A decree won’t fix my feet.”

“Don’t you wish to spare other women from the binding?”

“The idea won’t be deemed acceptable if it’s presented by a foreigner. You could’ve gotten yourself executed!”

“I can’t believe I can’t do anything for you. Are you really done using me?”

A wave of shame fell upon her. He was so oblivious to what she aspired to use him for, and she hadn’t told him half of what hinged on the Emperor’s survival. She would have said more at that moment, but was interrupted by a guard who notified her that Noble Consort Zheng was asking to speak with her.

The rows of small palaces for royal concubines looked so similar it took her a while to figure out which one to enter. She could almost empathize with the way her enemy felt; after so many years as the center of the late Wanli’s affections, it had to be a blow to Zheng’s pride to find herself with no marks of distinction above his other lovers.

Once she found the correct building, she was led to the hall used for receptions. She found Lady Zheng sitting at one extreme of the room, her back curved in the way of old women, and Xiaobo shuddered as she considered her own future and how much longer she’d be able to pose as a man. Xiaobo greeted her and sat at a respectful distance, not sure of what would be discussed or how much danger she was in.

“Congratulations,” said Lady Zheng. “You won.”

So we’re jumping right into it, thought Xiaobo. With a polite smile, she retorted, “Now that the Emperor is safe, no one should think themselves the loser.”

“Liang, please. I’m tired of the way eunuchs twist the words to hide what they mean. Can we be direct for a change?”

“As you wish.”

“You say no one loses in this affair. Yet I’m the one being punished.”

“How? No harm has been done to you.”

Zheng put her hands on her knees and straightened her back, which looked painful. “I was denied the coronation of my son!”

“Since you’ve asked me to be direct, I’ll be direct: such talk is treason. What you were denied was something you had no right to claim. As I said, that’s no harm.”

“Traditions, traditions! Isn’t the title of Emperor worth anything? Shouldn’t his parting gift to his lover be honored?”

“That’s an argument he already had, many times, years ago, and lost. I see no point in you arguing it with me.”

“You… you have played well. I heard the Embroidered Guard received orders to reassign my father, and I refuse to believe Princess Rongchang had anything to do with it. You’re good at making everyone believe you’re so unimportant.”

“I serve the Great Ming.”

“Do you? Then why do you lie to the Emperor’s face?”

Xiaobo felt her insides twist in pain. “When have I ever—”

“I still have people near the Emperor, you see. And some of them understand Japanese.”

Tsunenaga. I should have let him doom himself. “I admit that I did the ambassador a favor. A barbarian who can’t appreciate the elegance of Chinese women has no business dictating how they should look.”

“A perfectly believable excuse. Well done. But that’s not all you did.”

“I merely restated the point he had already made.”

“No, Ma Liang. You added to it. Surely you’re aware of how obvious your surname is. Ma is all but the mark of Muslims.”

“What’s your point?”

“Don’t be afraid. We all seek our ways to utilize the Emperor to get things done. Didn’t you hear me a minute ago? I said congratulations.”

“What did you call me for, Lady Zheng?”

“I was hoping you would understand the way things look from my point of view. I’m only hated because Wanli loved me instead of another.”