Free The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu

journeys. This seemed a job that a trained monkey with a stick could do. Even Kuni shouldn’t be able to screw it up.
    â€œI never quite pictured myself serving the emperor this way,” said Kuni, thinking of the corvée administrator who had, in a way, introduced him to Jia. He’d have to buy his future colleague a good meal to smooth over any hard feelings. “I’m not going to make up any ‘Prosperity Tax,’ though—well, not unless it’s someone very wealthy.”
    â€œAs long as you live frugally, you’ll be fine,” said Cogo. “The pay is very steady.”
    Steady enough for Kuni to go to the money lenders and pledge his future income for a present sum so that he could go to Jia’s parents.

    Gilo Matiza could not understand it. By all accounts, Kuni Garu was an indolent young man with no useful skills and no prospects. He had no money, no property, and until recently, no job—even his own family had thrown him out. He was also rumored to enjoy the company of loose women and had many girlfriends.
    Why did his daughter, known to all the matchmakers as impos­sible to please, favor this man’s suit?
    â€œI prefer to do the most interesting thing,” Jia said. And that was all the answer she would give him.
    Nothing would dissuade her. Once her mind was made up, Jia’s will was iron. So Gilo had to at least listen to the young man.
    â€œI know I don’t have a very good reputation,” said Kuni, who was sitting up very straight in mipa rari , his eyes focused on the tip of his nose. “But as the sagacious Lurusén once said, ‘The world is drunk; I alone am sober. The world is asleep, but I am awake.’ ”
    Gilo was surprised. He did not expect a quote from Cocru classics. “What does that have to do with your suit?”
    â€œThe poet was speaking of the experience of sudden clarity after a life of doubt. Until I met Jia and you, I did not understand what the poem meant. Sir, a reformed man is worth ten men virtuous from birth, for he understands temptation and will strive the harder to not stray.”
    Gilo softened. He had wanted to make a good match for Jia—a wealthy local merchant or a young scholar who had a good future in government—but this Kuni seemed learned and respectful, and that was something. Perhaps all the rumors about him were wrong.
    Gilo sighed and accepted Kuni’s marriage proposal.

    â€œI see you decided not to share your other reading of Lurusén’s poem with my father. I’m impressed: I could almost believe that speech back there.”
    â€œIt’s just like they say in the villages: ‘Howl when you see a wolf, scratch your head when you see a monkey.’ ”
    â€œHow many more of these readings do you have?”
    â€œAs many as the days we’ll have together.”

    Kuni’s brother Kado and his father Féso welcomed him again to their houses, believing that the prodigal son had finally returned.
    Naré Garu was so happy that she embraced Jia and wouldn’t let go, soaking the shoulder of Jia’s dress with her tears. “You saved my son!” she said again and again, and Jia blushed and smiled awkwardly.
    And so there was a big wedding—paid for by Gilo—that became the talk of Zudi for many days. Although Gilo refused to support the couple in a lavish lifestyle (“Since you picked him, you have to live within the means of his salary”), Jia’s dowry allowed the couple to get a small house, and Kuni no longer had to calculate how long he had before he wore out a friend’s patience and had to find another place to sleep.
    He went to work every morning and sat in his office and filled out reports and made his hourly rounds to be sure that the listless men held in prison weren’t up to any mischief while they waited to be sent to labor in the Grand Tunnels or the Mausoleum.
    In no time at all,