The third son of the thirteenth Emperor was named Fair-Gale on account of the beauty of his face and the strong winds that blew in the Capital on the day he was born. His mother was the First Consort surnamed Orion. On that day, as was the custom in that era, his father summoned an Imperial Shaman to behold the face of the boy and make a prognostication. As the Shaman was performing the rite, he had divination cards laid out on a table in front of the boy, when suddenly a gust blew in and upturned the cards, sending them tumbling through the air like blossoms. This shocked everyone, everyone except the Shaman, who calmly collected the scattered cards. Anxiously the Emperor asked him: "What is the boy's fate?" His long beard fluttering, he replied: "Your Majesty, this boy is destined to harmonize the near and the far, to unify the modern and the ancient, and after that he will rule the Realm as Emperor." Everyone who heard was speechless.
The winds carried word of the prognostication to every corner of the palace. When it reached the chamber of the Empress, surnamed Southlea, she became sick and would not take food nor leave her bed. At the time she had two sons, the oldest of which was first in line for the throne. When her ladies-in-waiting saw her troubled condition, they asked her: "My Lady, shall we send for His Majesty?" She said: "No. Send for my older brother." And the ladies-in-waiting sent at once for her brother, the Minister of Finance and a Councilor of State. When the Minister arrived, he went beside his sister's bed and asked her what the matter was. She explained everything. The Minister then said: "I will do what must be done." And he left.
After a few weeks passed, a charge of corruption was brought against the Imperial Shaman who made the prognostication, and he was stripped of his rank and office and thrown in jail. He later died, apparently from starvation and disease. But nothing happened to the child. His mother and father knew how vulnerable he was to intrigue, so they kept him in the palace under the close watch of guards at all times.
Twelve years passed like this, without incident. In that time, Fair-Gale was given a liberal education and excelled in letters, music and history. But because he stayed in the palace all day he rarely practiced the military arts, so while he had already become a refined young master, his frame was thin and weak and his skin looked like it was made of paper. But at some time in his 13th year he began to go outside the palace to go on adventures of hunting and gallantry with his brothers and the sons of noble households. The sun restored the color to his skin that had been lacking for so long, and he felt more alive than before. Seeing the great Earth stretched out before him under the bright blue sky filled his head with all sorts of fancies about how the world could be, and in his heart sprouted ambition, the desire to make a name for himself, and not the least, the desire for women. He made many friends among the sons of noble households, but the closest was a boy from an ennobled warrior family called Iron-Hill, whom he took into his closest confidence and on whom he relied for many things. And sensing the noble eccentricity of his soul, Iron-Hill's attitude toward him was extremely reverent, even worshipful. Because of their friendship Iron-Hill was allowed to enter the palace whenever he pleased.
But when Fair-Gale was in his 15th year the Southlea Councilor (for by that time he was in his sixties and had retired as Minister of Finance but stayed on as a State Elder) took advantage of his imprudent coming and going to set him up. He hired a prostitute whose face looked almost identical to a certain princess, daughter to the Empress, and made her wait on Fair-Gale intimately at a private house in the outskirts. Although he always went disguised as a commoner, many people recognized him, and while she was also disguised, people would look at her face and truly believe she was the princess. The Minister gathered the reports of several witnesses and presented them to the Emperor, claiming Fair-Gale was having an affair with his own half-sister, and demanding that he be thrown in jail and demoted to a commoner. The Emperor was very dubious of the charges, even laughed at them, and had them dismissed. Nonetheless many statesmen petitioned the Emperor to punish him. The Councilor conspired again a couple weeks later. This time he hired a 6th-rank captain to attend a sermon at Dust-Sweeping Temple at the same time as Fair-Gale. When the sermon ended and everyone was making their way to the exit of the lecture hall, the captain turned around as though he had forgotten something and brushed past Fair-Gale, causing their swords to clack into each other. The noise was loud and embarrassing. The captain began insulting Fair-Gale which set off his temper, and before long they were fighting in the eye of the public. The incident reflected very badly on Fair-Gale and the Imperial House, and there were resumed calls to reprimand him. But the Emperor continued to back his son. The last time the Southlea Councilor conspired against him, he sent henchmen into Fair-Gale's quarters to steal a few samples of his handwriting. The samples were given to a forger who used them to create a fake letter lambasting high-ranking members of the government and Imperial brothers, cousins and uncles, and even hinting at treasonous intention. When the letter was presented to the Emperor, he did not doubt it was a forgery, but for the sake of appearances he could no longer go without imposing a penalty.
The Emperor met with the Councilors and the Imperial uncles and decided on exile. He then said to them: "Among the provinces that are open, there are ..., ... and Frigid-Cloud, but this latter one is so far, it is beneath the dignity of a member of our house, even one who is disgraced. I would have him sent to ..." But the Southlea Councilor thought differently, he said: "I rather believe Frigid-Cloud would be the most advantageous both for the Realm and for His Highness. Although it is a far and, indeed, desolate country, its previous Lord was found to be in contradiction to the Law, as you know, and asked to turn himself in to the Capital to face judgment, but this he did not do, instead fleeing into the wilderness where he remains at large. If we dispatch His Highness to that province, he will be responsible for capturing the renegade, and if he does so will win merit and rehabilitate himself." The Emperor thought this idea sound, and agreed to it.
When the Emperor called him in for an audience, he said: "It is no longer safe for you to remain in the Capital, and on top of that, it will neither do you any good, nor the Realm. I have therefore decided to create you a Master tomorrow, your domain will be the province of Frigid-Cloud. And you will set out the following day." To which Fair-Gale: "Father, the charges against me do not have any truth to them. That girl I was seeing was not an Imperial relative. And I didn't start the fight at Dust-Sweeping Temple. I didn't write that seditious letter either. Why have you ruled against me?" The Emperor answered: "I believe you are telling the truth, my son, but however truthful of a life you may have lived, you have managed to incur the world's censure nonetheless. You are not guilty of violating your half-sister, of instigating public brawls or of plotting sedition--for that you can one day face the gods without shame--but there is still much for you to regret: You underestimated the wickedness of human beings, and because of that you got yourself caught up in one scheme after another, and the Imperial House lost face on many occasions. Perhaps it couldn't have been helped, since you spent many years secluded in the palace, but you have much to regret, and so do I, and so does the Dynasty. You will go into exile. Given the way things are these days, you will either return to this city in triumph one day, or your grave shall be dug in some far-flung and homey district!" Neither father nor son could hold back tears any longer, and they embraced. The Emperor continued: "When you get to the provincial capital you will move into the lord's residence and take up the reigns of government, but there is another important mission that you must see to, which concerns the previous Master of the province. He was claimed to have raised taxes for private expenditure, multiplying the sufferings of the people, and commanded to turn himself into the Capital, but ignoring the Imperial summons, he turned his back on the Law and went into hiding in the midst of the mountains, lakes and forests. You must arrest him and deliver him to the Capital so that his case can be investigated and a ruling made." Fair-Gale agreed to do as his father told him, though it was hard for him to get the words out of his throat, for he was nearly choking on his tears, his face was red and his sleeves were soaked through. He didn't sleep that night.
After receiving the official appointment the next morning in front of the entire court, he took a few hours to bid farewell to his friends. A number of people sent him letters expressing their deepest regrets, though a few were of a more hopeful tone, but he was in no mood to read them all. There was one, however, that when he saw the thin pink packet it was wrapped in, he simply could not let sit. He read: "I have always regarded you as a wonderful person, and I thought there would eventually come a time when I could speak to you frankly, but now that such a terrible thing has happened to you..." And it went on and on, but at the end this poem was attached:
They say when one is soon to die
A final sigh departs the lips
And hastens on the wind
Like so, O zephyrs, pray you let
My thoughts be known to him
He sighed, but even as his retainers were urging him to prepare for the journey, he sat at his desk whose drawers had been emptied of writings and took out a brush and paper. He wrote: "Your imprudent words have only given me something new to worry about, they are a fresh gash next to one that has barely begun to heal. If anything should happen to you, what would I have to look forward to when I return from my assignment? Everyone seems to think that the world only gets sadder and uglier the farther away from the city you go, and that may very well be true, but is it really so disagreeable to spend a few years out of our all-too-short lives (and even if we lived to a thousand it would be too short) delighting in the scenery of His Majesty's Realm?" And so on. At the end he wrote:
O zephyrs, pray take back to her
The breath you've stolen by mistake,
Her heart is known to me
So tell her do not fret but wait
Eight ages if need be
Although he wrote thus, in his heart he doubted he would ever see her again.
Shortly before leaving the Capital for what he thought would be the last time in his life, Fair-Gale had a final audience with his father. He said: "Father, will you not give me anything to aid me on my journey?" The Emperor said: "Yes, why don't you take this." And he gave his son a large, leather-bound book with a gilt cover and tied with a silver-colored silken cord. The paper inside was also of the finest quality, and the calligraphy had clearly been done by an expert. The Emperor said: "This is the latest Imperial poetry anthology, also the largest one ever compiled. It contains all of the most excellent and famous Great Songs, Medium Songs, Little Songs and Lyrics that our Dynasty has boasted of since its inception. I want you to take this with you so that you never forget the refined resplendence of the Capital, no matter what wild lands or backwater countries you roam to. For culture and enlightenment are the marks of the power of the Imperial House, of which you remain a member even in exile. Also, I want to add, this volume is, in addition to being of the finest craftsmanship in all the realm, enchanted: if, carrying it on your person, you recite verses from it, you will exude an enticing air of courtly charisma that is strong enough to captivate the hearts of others. I have a feeling that throughout your travels you will make loads of men angry, and tons of women jealous. Whenever you are in a difficult situation, do not overlook this enchanted book, for it may certainly come to your aid and make things go smoother." Fair-Gale accepted the book with much gratitude.
When someone is newly created at the rank of Lord, he is usually assigned a company of five thousand soldiers by the Ministry of War to start out with, but in light of his immediate mission, the Generalissimo declared that he shall receive more. Accordingly he was assigned eight thousand foot soldiers under the charge of two 6th-rank commanders, one surnamed Hunter, the other Redwood. Both of these clans had close ties to South-Lea. While the two commanders professed to be loyal, he did not trust them at all, and he realized that as long as those eight thousand soldiers answered to them he would have to sleep with one eye open, but there was no way he could object to the assignment.
As he was passing under the gates on horseback accompanied by Hunter, Redwood and their men, Iron-Hill--who at that time was a 4th-rank Major--appeared in front of him with about sixty warriors. He said: "Your Lordship, my heart is broken by the news of your unlawful exile, and the thought of you separated from His Majesty by so many miles in some sad backwater country ensures no end to my tears. I could not stand the injustice of certain gentlemen in His Majesty's service, which is why this morning I resigned my post. I lost the five or six thousand soldiers under my command, but these sixty loyal brothers wished to share my lot and resigned with me. I know you are still a novice in the military arts, and since there is no limit to the cruelties of this world I am afraid you may succumb to more intrigue in the future. Therefore let me offer my services to you." Fair-Gale was moved to tears by his friend's proposal and, although he accepted, he felt unworthy. As he welcomed the sixty-one men into his entourage, Hunter and Redwood shot him hot glances but did not raise any objection. Thus he departed the Capital.