"John Keith, in Pe-Chi-Li is the great city of Pekin, and Pe-Chi-Li is
the greatest province in all China. And second only to that is the
province of Shantung, which borders Pe-Chi-Li, the home of our Emperors
for more centuries than you have years. And for so many generations
that we cannot remember my forefathers have been rulers of Shantung. My
grandfather was a Mandarin with the insignia of the Eighth Order, and
my father was Ninth and highest of all Orders, with his palace at
Tsi-Nan, on the Yellow Sea. And I, Prince Kao, eldest of his sons, came
to America to learn American law and American ways. And I learned them,
John Keith. I returned, and with my knowledge I undermined a
government. For a time I was in power, and then this thing you call the
god of luck turned against me, and I fled for my life. But the blood is
still here--" he put his hand softly to his breast, "--the blood of a
hundred generations of rulers. I tell you this because you dare not
betray me, you dare not tell them who I am, though even that truth
could not harm me. I prefer to be known as Shan Tung. Only you--and
Miriam Kirkstone--have heard as much."
Keith's blood was like fire, but his voice was cold as ice.
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