Chang'an Imperial Estate - Evening, April 17th, 1940
The knock at their door felt like the worst possible intrusion at the worst possible moment. The two officers had been deliberately trying to maintain absolute silence, and now it seemed as though they had been discovered in the act of discovering their surveillance. They stared at each other across the darkened room, and Kylian found himself swallowing hard, the sound seeming unnaturally loud in the oppressive quiet.
For a long moment, everything around them fell silent. It was only eight in the evening, hardly late by urban standards, but the remote and rural nature of the estate meant that activity quieted early in these parts. The distant sounds of servants completing their evening duties had faded, leaving only the chirping of crickets and the whisper of wind through the willow trees.
Wolfgang quietly rose and approached the sliding door. Opening it slowly, he found Captain Song looking both confused and concerned. Noticing the room's darkness, Song craned his neck to peer inside, clearly trying to determine if something was amiss.
He was holding a silver tray laden with dishes, steamed rice, fried greens glistening with oil, succulent pork belly, and river prawns that still carried the scent of the stream from which they had been caught. Wolfgang moved aside to allow Song entry.
Kylian was fumbling with the oil lamp, trying to restart it as Song placed the tray on the table in the room's seating area. The Chinese officer's expression carried genuine concern.
"You look like you've seen a ghost. What happened?" Song asked, his eyes moving between both Hanseatic officers.
"It was nothing," Wolfgang replied quickly, scratching the back of his head in what he hoped appeared to be just casual embarrassment. "We were checking the lamp mechanism and accidentally extinguished it."
"Ah, that's unfortunate," Song replied with sympathetic understanding. "This part of the estate has no electricity, so you'll have to rely on oil lamps for illumination. My apologies for the inconvenience."
"It is quite alright, Captain Song," Kylian interjected, finally getting the lamp relit. The warm glow filled the room, pushing back the shadows that had concealed the peephole moments before. "Your hospitality is already more than generous."
"How do you like the room?" Song asked, and Kylian studied his face carefully, searching for any hint of duplicity or hidden knowledge. He saw only what appeared to be sincere concern for their comfort. "I hope it is suitable for you both."
"Yes, of course, Captain Song," Kylian replied, standing and offering a genuine smile despite his racing thoughts. "It should not even be a question. The room is quite luxurious, even by our standards."
"I am glad to hear those words. It is our duty to ensure our guests are satisfied." Song's expression reflected pleasure at their approval. Then his demeanor shifted slightly, becoming more formal. "I also came to inform you that tomorrow there will be an ancestor worship ceremony at the ancestral hall. Only the imperial family is typically permitted inside, but you two, being our esteemed guests, will receive the honor of observing the ceremony."
Wolfgang's eyes lit up with undisguised excitement. "Really, Captain Song? This is almost too good to be true. I'm not doubting you, but I didn't think we would receive such a privilege."
"I understand your surprise, Captain von Witzland. However, you were sent here personally by the Emperor, which naturally grants you certain privileges that other foreigners would never receive. This is a rare honor that speaks to His Majesty's regard for the Hanseatic Empire."
"We are both deeply honored," Wolfgang said as he and Kylian bowed in unison.
Song returned the gesture with equal formality. "That is all I came to convey, Captains. We will meet tomorrow after the ceremony concludes. Enjoy your food and get some rest. I'll be taking my leave now." He moved toward the door, then paused to add, "Goodnight, esteemed guests."
"Goodnight, Captain Song," both officers replied as he departed, sliding the door closed behind him.
The dinner that followed was conducted in absolute silence. After what they had just experienced, both officers felt incapable of normal conversation. The paranoia that every word they spoke might be overheard and analyzed by unknown eavesdroppers created a suffocating atmosphere that destroyed any appetite they might have had. The food was undoubtedly excellent, the pork belly perfectly seasoned, the prawns sweet and tender but neither man could properly appreciate the meal.
They were confident now that they were being spied upon, but the who and why remained terrifying mysteries. Without Foreign Minister von Hausen's diplomatic protection and experience to guide them, they felt dangerously exposed.
Chang'an Imperial Estate - Morning, April 18th, 1940
Kylian woke to the rumbling sound of servants moving about outside and Bai Lu's voice calling through their door.
"Captains! Captains!"
They had not slept well. After Song's departure, neither had spoken a word to each other. Even as they lay in their separate beds, both had remained awake for hours, listening to every sound, wondering if the hole in the wall concealed a spy who never slept. Kylian had lost count of how many hours passed before exhaustion finally claimed him, he estimated perhaps two hours of actual sleep.
Quickly rising and pulling on his coat, he attempted to tame his disheveled hair. Usually his thick brown hair, styled in the fashionable Hanseatic manner with faded sides and a longer top, remained perfectly groomed, a testament to his noble bearing. This morning it spoke only to his troubled night.
Opening the door, he found Bai Lu standing with two servants behind her. Beyond them, the courtyard bustled with unusual activity, servants hurrying with ceremonial items, palace ladies arranging decorations, guards taking up formal positions.
"I apologize for disturbing you so early, but it was necessary," Bai Lu explained, bowing. "The ceremony will begin soon, and I wanted to ensure you had enough time to prepare. You may freshen up in the stream behind the estate if you prefer nature to the washing facilities inside, and breakfast is available in the kitchens."
Kylian, still fighting off sleep, straightened his posture and returned her bow. "Noted, Young Mistress."
"I will send a servant to collect you when the time approaches," she continued. "To reach the stream, simply follow the road south and turn left. It is only a few meters behind your residence."
"Thank you, Young Mistress," Kylian replied as she departed with her attendants.
When he turned back to the room, Wolfgang was already awake and sitting on his bed, the lower half of his body still covered by blankets. They exchanged a meaningful look that conveyed volumes without words. Wolfgang rose and began preparing to visit the stream, donning his uniform with the precision of exhausted men performing familiar routines.
The morning air carried a chill as they made their way out of the inner residential area toward the outer section where the servants' quarters were located. Their own residence, they now realized, was positioned at the estate's rear near the foot of the forested hill where the stream originated. The winding road provided a view of the adjacent building they had identified the previous night.
"You see, Wolfgang, that's the building for certain," Kylian said in barely more than a whisper as they walked past the structure. He studied every detail from the weathered wood to the position of the windows and the subtle signs of occupation or abandonment.
The complex consisted of five buildings adjacent to one another, connected in the typical Chinese style. Theirs was the fifth from the left, and the building sharing their wall appeared vacant, or at least was meant to appear so.
"Yes, I can tell," Wolfgang replied in an equally hushed tone. "Have you considered how unsafe it is that you cannot even speak freely inside the room where you're sleeping?"
"Not all of these buildings seem occupied," Kylian observed, his eyes scanning the structures as they passed. "I can tell some are living quarters for servants, but look at what's adjacent to ours, it doesn't look inhabited at all. No laundry drying, no signs of daily use, nothing."
"It's giving me all sorts of bad feelings," Wolfgang said, his voice carrying an assertiveness that startled Kylian despite its low volume. "I say we should figure out who's behind this."
Kylian stopped walking and stared at his friend. "What? Surely you don't mean that seriously."
Wolfgang paused, scanning their surroundings carefully before turning to face Kylian directly. "Yes, I'm completely serious." He kept his voice low but firm. "Look, I'm not saying we should expose them or kidnap someone for questioning. I'm just saying we should at least try to discover who is behind this eavesdropping and why they think it's necessary."
"Fair enough, but how do you plan to accomplish that?" Kylian asked, finding himself drawn into the idea despite his initial resistance. "We're foreigners in a heavily guarded imperial estate, being watched by unknown observers. What exactly can we do?"
"I don't have a concrete plan yet, but I have some ideas forming," Wolfgang admitted. "You think about it too. We can develop a strategy after we both consider the possibilities."
"Alright, we'll discuss this later, I'll think about what we can do." Kylian agreed as they reached the stream.
The sight that greeted them drove all thoughts of surveillance temporarily from their minds. The stream flowed directly down from the mountain in crystalline clarity, branching into six different channels that created a natural water garden. The morning sun caught the water's surface, creating dancing patterns of light. In the distance, on the forested slopes, They could spot deer moving gracefully through the underbrush and peacocks displaying their magnificent plumage. The sheer beauty of the natural setting seemed almost dreamlike in its perfection.
After washing in the cool mountain water, an experience that left them both refreshed despite their exhaustion, they returned to their residence to find servants already waiting at their doorstep.
Both officers quickly apologized for any delay, entered their quarters, and emerged wearing their formal Hanseatic Imperial Guard uniforms, the pearl gray wool with silver braiding and ruby-studded ceremonial chains that marked them as representatives of their Emperor. The servants led them through the estate to a large courtyard where an ancestral hall stood at the center.
The hall itself appeared ancient, its weathered sign above the doorway showing centuries of exposure to the elements, though the walls bore beautifully maintained decorative motifs that spoke to careful preservation of this sacred space. The officers were quickly ushered inside before the doors closed behind them with a heavy finality.
A senior maid, her age and demeanor marking her as someone of considerable authority within the household, greeted them silently. The hall's interior was dimly lit by oil lamps, creating an atmosphere of solemn reverence. At the center stood an elaborate arrangement of ancestral tablets, organized in a pyramid formation with the founder of the Jin Dynasty positioned at the apex.
Both officers noticed that beside the tablets stood an elegant carved divider, and from behind it came subtle sounds of movement, suggesting someone was already present but concealed from view. The maid gestured without words for the officers to take their designated positions, cushions placed on the floor at a respectful distance from the central altar, clearly meant for observers rather than participants.
She also raised a finger to her lips, the universal gesture for silence, which both men acknowledged with solemn nods. This was a sacred ceremony, and they were being granted extraordinary access as foreigners. Any breach of etiquette could create a diplomatic catastrophe that would dwarf their previous teaching failures.
The incense had already been lit, its fragrant smoke rising in thin columns toward the ceiling. Nearby, a table held the four traditional offerings: a whole suckling pig with crispy golden skin, a perfectly steamed chicken, a large steamed fish, and an elaborate pyramid of fresh fruits. Everything was arranged with meticulous precision that spoke to hours of careful preparation.
The maid departed, leaving the two officers alone with their thoughts and the weight of ancestral presence represented by the tablets. They sat in respectful silence on their cushions, acutely aware that they were witnessing something few foreigners had ever seen.
The doors opened once more, but instead of a large procession, the four princesses entered in order of seniority, each wearing ceremonial robes appropriate to the solemnity of the occasion.
Princess Ankang entered first, resplendent in red silk that seemed to capture and hold the lamplight. Kylian observed that while she did not possess the striking beauty of her younger sister Changning, she carried herself with a grace and dignity that was deeply appealing. Yet something was clearly wrong—her face, despite obvious efforts to maintain composure, reflected deep sorrow. Her eyes appeared red, as though she had been crying recently or fighting back tears.
Princess Ruyi followed, her movements precise and controlled, though her expression suggested concern for her elder sister. Then came Princess Changning, and Kylian found his attention completely captured despite the ceremony's solemnity. She wore deep blue robes that complemented her complexion perfectly, her hair arranged in the elaborate style he had first admired in the Imperial Garden. Her bearing reflected both the dignity of her position and a natural grace that seemed effortless rather than studied.
Finally, young Princess Anle entered, and despite her youth, there was something unmistakably fierce about her presence. Her face carried an expression that seemed to declare she feared nothing and no one. She was a lovely young lady, but Kylian could observe even in her ceremonial movements a spirited determination that suggested a fiery temperament barely contained by court protocol.
The ceremony began with each princess taking her designated offering. Princess Ruyi approached first, lifting the heavy tray bearing the suckling pig with steady hands. She moved with practiced precision to the altar and placed it perfectly, setting the standard for those who would follow. Her movements were flawless, not a tremor, not a moment's hesitation.
Princess Changning followed with the steamed fish, and Kylian watched her every movement with an intensity he couldn't quite explain to himself. She too performed her duty perfectly, her placement of the offering reflecting years of training in court ritual.
Princess Anle, despite being the youngest, approached her task with visible confidence that bordered on defiance. She carried the fruit pyramid as though daring anyone to suggest she might falter, and her placement was executed with a precision that matched her elder sisters. The fire that Kylian had observed in her bearing translated into a fierce competence that was impressive to witness.
Now came Princess Ankang's turn. As the eldest and the bride who would soon leave her family to join the Japanese imperial household, she bore the weight of particular significance. She approached the table and lifted her designated dish, the steamed chicken, with hands that Kylian immediately noticed were trembling.
The entire room seemed to hold its breath as she moved toward the altar. Her hands shook visibly, and tears began forming at the corners of her eyes. The overwhelming emotion of her impending marriage, leaving her family, her homeland, her entire world to become part of a foreign dynasty was clearly threatening to overcome her carefully maintained composure.
This was dangerous. If she dropped the offering during her own ceremony, the omen would be catastrophic. The dishonor would attach itself not only to her but to the entire imperial family in the eyes of their ancestors.
Just as it seemed the princess might lose her battle with her emotions, a helping hand appeared and steadied her trembling grip. Princess Changning had moved swiftly but gracefully to her sister's side, placing her hands beneath Ankang's to support the dish. She smiled not with triumph or superiority, but with genuine love and sisterly compassion.
Though she spoke no words, her presence and support visibly strengthened Princess Ankang, who drew a shuddering breath and seemed to gather her courage.
"CHANGNING!"
The voice that filled the ancestral hall was not shouted, but it carried sufficient volume and authority to freeze everyone in place. It came from behind the elegant divider, and the woman who spoke used Chinese, a language neither Hanseatic officer understood but the tone transcended linguistic barriers. It was cold, sharp, and laden with displeasure.
The words that followed, though incomprehensible to Kylian and Wolfgang carried a weight that made the very air seem heavier:
"The food offering is a tradition in the line of our dynasty, from first ancestor to last descendant. It must be presented without flaw, without wavering. To offer it with imbalance is to suggest the line itself is unstable. This carelessness dishonors every name on these tablets."
Although Kylian and Wolfgang could not understand the specific words, they could feel the voice's effect. It was chilling to the spine, carrying a authority that brooked no disagreement. The room suddenly felt colder, and even the incense smoke seemed to still in the air, as though the ancestors themselves had paused to witness this moment of familial discipline.
Kylian's gaze immediately moved to Changning. What he saw made something twist painfully in his chest. Her face, usually so composed and regal, now reflected a complex mixture of emotions barely held in check. Her eyes were downcast, her shoulders had curved slightly inward in a posture of submission, and he could see her fighting back tears. The delicate nature of her features which he had admired from afar with such fascination, now served only to make her distress more visible, and more heartbreaking.
Something about seeing her in such a state affected Kylian profoundly. He barely knew this woman. They had never exchanged words. By any rational measure, her emotional state should mean nothing to him. Yet he found himself struggling with an almost overwhelming urge to intervene, to somehow shield her from criticism that while perhaps justified by the ceremony's traditions, seemed cruel in its timing and severity.
"Yes, Consort Wu. Please forgive me for I have made a mistake." Princess Changning's voice trembled slightly as she spoke, revealing the depth of her fear of the Chief Consort's displeasure.
Through all of this, Princess Ankang had somehow gathered herself. Drawing upon reserves of courage that her near-breakdown had seemed to exhaust, she steadied her hands and completed her approach to the altar. With movements that were slower and more careful than her sisters' but ultimately successful, she placed the steamed chicken in its designated position.
The offering was complete. The ceremony could continue. But the emotional cost of that completion hung in the air like the incense smoke—visible, present, and impossible to ignore.