The Forbidden Palace of Luoyang stretched like a sleeping dragon across the heart of the imperial capital. As Emperor Tao's procession passed between the huge red gates—each one high enough to allow three elephants walk through—Jin fought to keep his expression neutral despite the awe growing within him.
Nothing he'd seen in books or museums prepared him for how massive the imperial palace was. It was protected by five walls, each forming a ring around the next. Every ring was taller and more beautifully decorated than the last. Inside was a huge area filled with buildings, gardens, and offices—big enough to fit a small city. The yellow tiled roofs reflected the setting sun, making the whole palace glow like fire.
"Home sweet home," Jin said to himself in English—a language that Emperor Tao's tongue struggled to form properly.
General Zhou, riding alongside the palanquin, turned to him with a concerned look. "Did you say something, Your Majesty?"
"I said it is good to return," Jin amended quickly in the language of Xingyan. "Though I confess, my memories remain... clouded."
The general solemnly nodded. "The imperial physicians will attend to you immediately upon our arrival. Until your memory returns, I would counsel you to entrust few with your condition."
Clever man, this General Zhou. Jin was starting to like him.
"And whom would you suggest I trust, General?"
Zhou's craggy features did not change, but Jin
caught the calculation in his eyes. "Anyone else other than myself, Your Majesty? Grand Eunuch Wei has served the Dragon Throne since your grandfather's reign. Chancellor Li is loyal, though ambitions for his daughter might be a shadow over his mind."
Jin kept this information. A faithful eunuch, an ambitious chancellor who had a daughter—probably one he was looking forward to marrying to the young emperor.
"And what of my imperial harem?" Jin asked, unable to resist. "Surely the Emperor of Xingyan has concubines?"
To his credit, General Zhou didn't even flinch at the question. "Your Majesty has not yet chosen any official concubines, having been preoccupied with affairs of state since your ascension. There are, of course, the eight palace maidens chosen for your eventual consideration, but you had indicated a desire to wait until after your twenty birthday to make official arrangements."
Jin felt heat rise to his face. Emperor Tao might be eighteen, but Jin had been nineteen when he died—and totally inexperienced with the opposite sex. The idea of having eight beautiful women waiting for his "consideration" was both terrifying and, he had to admit, not entirely unwelcome.
"A wise decision on my part," Jin managed. "State matters first, personal pleasure later."
General Zhou nodded approvingly. "As your father taught you."
The palanquin passed through the final gate and entered the central courtyard of the Forbidden Palace. Hundreds of officials, servants, and guards had assembled to welcome their emperor home—all kneeling in perfect rows, heads bowed to the ground.
Jin swallowed hard. One misstep, one sign that he wasn't really Emperor Tao, and who knew what would happen? Best case scenario, they'd think their emperor had gone mad. Worst case... well, impostors did not have a history of pleasant endings in any reality.
The carriers of his palanquin set down his carriage with professional grace. A servant rushed to open the curtain and put down a set of stepping stairs. Jin stepped down, brushing out his bloodied robes and compelling himself to walk with what he hoped was imperial dignity.
"Rise," he commanded, surprised at how naturally the authority came to him.
The assembled court rose all at once, a perfectly timed movement that showed they had practiced it many times. Jin scanned the sea of faces, wondering which one was Grand Eunuch Wei, which was Chancellor Li, and which might be enemies—or allies
A tall, slim man in designed midnight-blue robes stepped forward, moving so smoothly it looked like he was gliding across the stone courtyard. His head was shaved, and though he was clearly old, his face had no wrinkles."
"Your Majesty," he said, voice surprisingly deep for a old man Jin instantly recognized as the Grand Eunuch. "The heavens smile upon us with your safe return."
Jin turned his head slightly. "Grand Eunuch Wei. Your concern touches me."
Something flickered in Wei's eyes—surprise, perhaps, that the emperor had addressed him directly rather than through an intermediary. Jin made a mental note to learn proper court protocol as quickly as possible.
"Word of the ambush arrived hours ago," Wei continued smoothly. "The court has been in chaos."
Another man came forward with the appearance of a scholar and a well-groomed long black beard. "Your Majesty's safety is our paramount concern. Chancellor Li offers ten thousand prayers of gratitude to your ancestors for their protection."
So this was Chancellor Li, the man with the ambitious daughter. Jin studied him carefully. Unlike Wei's unreadable expression, the Chancellor's face was open, his relief seemingly genuine. Either he was an excellent actor, or he truly cared for his emperor's wellbeing.
"The prayers were appreciated," Jin said. "Though I suspect General Zhou's sword arm played a greater role in my survival."
A ripple of surprised murmurs spread through the courtyard. Emperor Tao was known for many things, Jin was beginning to realize, but a sense humor wasn't one of them.
"Your Majesty must be exhausted," Wei interjected smoothly. "The imperial physicians await in your chambers, and a bath has been prepared."
The mention of a bath made Jin suddenly notice the dried blood on his robes and the dirt stuck to his skin. Any royal dignity he hoped to show was probably ruined by the fact that he looked like he'd just walked off a battlefield—which, to be fair, he had.
"Lead on, Grand Eunuch," Jin commanded. "General Zhou, attend me later. I would hear more details of the ambush when I am refreshed."
As Wei led him through the palace, Jin tried hard to remember the confusing layout. Hallways split into more hallways, courtyards led to gardens, and pavilions sat on man-made lakes. The palace wasn't just a home—it was a maze meant to confuse anyone who hadn't grown up in it.
"Your imperial chambers, Your Majesty," Wei announced, stopping before a set of massive doors carved with dragons chasing pearls among clouds. Guards stationed at regular spot along the corridor snapped to attention.
The doors opened to reveal rooms so luxurious that Jin almost gasped. The first chamber alone was bigger than his whole apartment in his old life. Silk in gold and red hung from the walls. Huge porcelain vases, taller than a man, stood in the corners like guards. The floor was polished jade, cool and smooth under his feet when he took off his blood-stained boots
"The physicians?" Jin asked, struggling to maintain his composure.
"In the inner chamber, Your Majesty, with your bath."
Jin nodded and moved toward what he assumed was the bedchamber. Wei made to follow, but Jin turned.
"I prefer privacy, Grand Eunuch."
Wei bowed low, but Jin noticed a quick, thoughtful look in his eyes. "As you wish, Your Majesty. Though it's not usually done—"
"Today hasn't been usual," Jin interrupted. "I just want to be alone."
"Of course. I shall await your summons."
Alone in the massive bedchamber, Jin finally allowed himself a moment of pure panic. His hands shook as he stared at his reflection in a polished bronze mirror. The face looking back at him was not Jin Park's round, unremarkable features. Emperor Tao had high cheekbones, a straight nose, and eyes like polished jet. Handsome in a cold, aristocratic way.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" Jin whispered in English.
A timid cough interrupted his breakdown. Three elderly men in simple gray robes stood near a steaming wooden tub the size of a hot tub. The imperial physicians, presumably.
"Your Majesty," they said in unison, bowing low.
Jin sighed. No privacy for an emperor, apparently.
As the physicians examined him and servants bathed him (an experience equal parts embarrassing and luxurious), Jin's mind raced. He had always been good at academics—the perfect student—but nothing in World History had prepared him for actually living in an ancient imperial court.
If he was going to survive this—if he was going to thrive as Emperor Tao—he needed information, and he needed it fast.
"Tell me," he said to the head physician as the old man applied a smelly paste on the bruise on his ribs, "what exactly happened during the ambush? My memory is... unclear."
The physician exchanged glances with his colleagues. "Your Majesty was returning from the Summer Palace when your procession was attacked in Crow's Pass. According to reports, fifty or more assassins fell upon your guard. General Zhou led the defense while you, Your Majesty, reportedly slew three attackers yourself before taking a blow to the head."
Jin blinked. Emperor Tao had killed three men? He, who had never so much as thrown a punch in his life, was inhabiting the body of someone capable of violence?
"I see," he said weakly. "And these assassins—they were from Qiushan?"
"So it appears, though they wore no identifying marks. The prisoner may reveal more."
Jin nodded, mind whirling. Political assassination attempts, rival kingdoms, prisoners to be interrogated—he had landed in the middle of a geopolitical powder keg.
"And tell me, honestly," Jin continued, lowering his voice, "how did I rule before this... incident? Was I a good emperor?"
The physicians froze, clearly terrified of answering such a loaded question. Finally, the eldest spoke, choosing his words with obvious care.
"Your Majesty has ruled with... decisiveness since ascending the Dragon Throne. The northern rebellion was crushed most efficiently, and the grain tax increases have filled the imperial treasury."
In other words, Jin translated mentally, Emperor Tao had been ruthless, perhaps cruel. Just perfect.
"I see," Jin said again, filing away yet another piece of information about his predecessor's—his—rule.
After the physicians were done and said he was fine except for a few bruises, servants helped Jin into clean robes—bright yellow silk with golden dragons stitched into them. The fabric alone probably cost more than a year of college where he used to apply.
"The council awaits your pleasure, Your Majesty," a servant informed him with a deep bow.