Courtyard House: Home Alone

"King Terauchi, do you know what makes this 'ghost' so terrifying?"

"Your subject is foolish and dull."

"No more killing."

The fool turned around, and the morning light shone from behind him, casting a long, thin shadow on the tatami mat. "He has made my soldiers afraid—afraid of the night, afraid of going to North China."

Terauchi Hisaichi was startled.

"Conditions..." The Foolish Man walked back to his desk, his fingertips lightly tapping the edge of the telegram, "...and what if I refuse?"

"My question is, what will happen if I refuse?"

Terauchi Hisaichi bowed even lower: "According to reports from the North China Expeditionary Army, 'The Ghost' possesses an unknown quantity of special cigarettes. If it uses them on a large scale, the North China Expeditionary Army... may be in danger of collapse."

The imperial study fell silent for a moment. A crackling sound came from the charcoal fire, sending up a spark.

The fool sat back down at his desk and took a wolf-hair brush from the brush holder. The brush handle was engraved with the two characters "Loyalty," written by the late emperor.

"Draft the imperial edict."

Terauchi Hisaichi quickly crawled forward on his knees and took out paper and pen from his bosom.

"1. The establishment of a buffer zone around Beiping may be temporarily permitted. Military personnel in Zhuozhou, Langfang, Sanhe, Miyun, and Huairou must withdraw within ten days, and auxiliary troops must withdraw together."

He paused, the pen tip hovering over the paper, the ink spreading to form an increasingly larger black dot.

"Second, diplomatic and intelligence personnel..." his voice seemed to be squeezed out from between clenched teeth, "must complete their evacuation within seven days. However, a minimum level of security will be maintained at the consulate to protect the safety of nationals."

"Your Majesty," Terauchi Hisaichi couldn't help but look up, "'The Ghost's' condition is a complete evacuation..."

"I know."

The fool interrupted him, his gaze falling on the dried-out Duan inkstone. "Therefore, the third point—the North China Expeditionary Army shall secretly establish a 'Special Service Agency' to specifically investigate and counter the 'Ghost.' Personnel shall be drawn from the Kwantung Army and the Korean Army, and shall not be included in the North China Expeditionary Army's organizational structure."

Terauchi Hisaichi's hand froze in mid-air, the ink finally dripping and spreading into a stain on the rice paper. He suddenly understood the Emperor's intention—a veiled concession on the surface, but a deadly trap laid in the shadows. It was both a compromise and a test.

"Your subject...accepts the decree."

"besides."

The fool placed the wolf-hair brush back on the brush holder, the two characters for "loyalty" gleaming with a dim luster in the morning light. "Tell Shimizu Dong San," he said, "that since 'Ghost' wants this city to live, I will let him live. But those who live always have weaknesses."

He stood up, walked to the inkstone, and gently peeled off a piece of dried ink with his fingertip: "Keep a close eye on 'Ghost's' agent. No matter what method you use, dig 'Ghost' out for me."

"Your Majesty is wise."

"It's not wisdom." The Fool crushed ink shavings between his fingers, the black powder falling softly. "It's patience. No matter how deeply a 'ghost' hides, it still has to deal with people. And dealing with people leaves traces."

He turned to look out the window, where the frostbitten early cherry blossom tree trembled slightly in the wind: "I'll give him seven days. Within seven days, have agents from the 'secret service' infiltrate the evacuation ranks. After seven days…"

Before the words were finished, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. A palace minister bowed and reported from outside the tent: "Your Majesty, an urgent telegram has arrived from our allies. They are preparing to make their move and demand that we quickly devise a plan to contain them..."

The fool raised his hand to stop him, his gaze still fixed on the early-blooming cherry blossom. Terauchi Hisaichi, prostrate on the ground, heard the Emperor's voice, seemingly coming from a great distance, carrying a strange calm: "It seems my seven days will turn into three."

He turned around, sat back down at his desk, and took out a vermilion seal from the depths of the drawer. The seal knob was a crouching tiger, its eyes inlaid with rubies, which looked like two drops of congealed blood in the morning light.

"Change the decree."

Terauchi Hisaichi quickly replaced the paper with another one.

"First, agree to 'Ghost's' demands, lift the blockade of Beiping, and establish a buffer zone. Military personnel must withdraw within a specified period, but a plainclothes intelligence network will be maintained, operating under the guise of 'trading companies' and 'ronin'."

"Second, the evacuation of diplomatic personnel is approved. However, Shimizu Tozo will remain in the area as an 'Advisor on Overseas Chinese Affairs' at the Six Nations Hotel."

"Third, the fool hung the vermilion seal on the paper, his tiger eyes blazing, and ordered the Navy Ministry, Army Ministry, and Foreign Ministry to hold a joint meeting to discuss the date for the 'southern advance.'"

The vermilion seal fell, and the bright red character "敕" (imperial decree) stood like a wound across the Xuan paper.

As Terauchi Hisaichi held the still-wet imperial edict, he suddenly felt dizzy. He recalled that three years ago at the Marco Polo Bridge, as the commander of the North China Expeditionary Army, he had promised the Emperor that "China would be conquered in three months."

Now, the "ghost" has turned Beiping into a meat grinder, and the Emperor is about to turn the empire's blade towards the Pacific Ocean.

"Your Majesty," he couldn't help but speak, "if the 'Ghost' knew that I was outwardly compliant but inwardly defying him..."

"So what if he finds out?"

The fool pushed the inkstone to the corner of the table; the cracked ink slabs resembled withered skin. "Once our allies begin their attack, we can draw troops from Manchuria, and then..."

He stood up and walked to the north wall of the Imperial Study, where a painting titled "Dragon Leaping Over Mount Fuji" hung, Katsushika Hokusai's last work. The dragon in the painting was hidden in the clouds, with only a scale or a claw showing, yet it possessed an imposing aura that seemed to devour the heavens.

"Then," his fingers lightly traced the edge of the scroll, "North China will no longer be the center of the empire. 'Ghost' wants a city; I'll give it to him. What I want is the entire Pacific Ocean."

Terauchi Hisaichi carefully folded the imperial edict and put it into his bosom.

"Your Majesty," he spoke again, his voice even lower than before, "if 'Ghost' manages to destroy the plainclothes intelligence network in North China within three years..."

"Then let him kill."

The fool turned around, and the morning light shone from behind him, obscuring his face in shadow. Only the faded red of the vermilion seal gleamed faintly on the table.

"Minister Terauchi, do you know why I granted him three years?"

"Your subject is foolish and dull."

"Because three years later,"

His voice seemed to come from a great distance, carrying an eerie calm, "Either the Empire no longer needs Beiping, or..." He paused, "...the Empire no longer needs 'Ghost'."

Terauchi Juichi prostrated himself, his forehead touching the cool tatami mat. He suddenly felt an unprecedented chill, not from the late spring cold outside the window, but from the almost cruel patience in the Emperor's words.

"Your subject...accepts the decree."

He remained in the bowing posture until he heard the Emperor's footsteps disappear beyond the shoji gate. The charcoal fire was still crackling, and the dried-out Duan inkstone lay quietly on the corner of the table, like a blind eye.

As he stood up, Terauchi Hisaichi's knees made a slight cracking sound. The sixty-two-year-old man had been kneeling on the tatami mats for far too long.

"Three years..."

He repeated the deadline in a low voice, suddenly recalling the words "not enough killing yet" from Shimizu Tōsan's telegram. The Emperor was right; the most terrifying aspect of the "Ghost" was not its killing, but the fear it instilled in the Empire's soldiers. But what the Emperor didn't say was that this fear had already begun to spread from North China to the entire Army Headquarters.