The lead yamen runner handed the search warrant to the steward, but the old man’s eyes were failing, and after staring at it for a long while without understanding, the document was suddenly plucked from his hands.
He turned to look, and it was as though he’d found salvation. “Manager Yin, Manager Yin, look at these people, there’s no law left in this world!”
Huayue read the document carefully, pressing her lips together. “Steward, no need to panic. They’re here because the young master permitted it.”
“What?” The steward looked at the courtyard full of yamen runners, bewildered. “What is the meaning of this…”
Huayue herself couldn’t quite make sense of it either — a search warrant, out of nowhere, and the document even listed Li Jingyun as “the one in custody.” He’d only stepped out for a while — how had he become “the one in custody”?
“I’ll go tell the master,” the steward said, hurrying off in a panic. Huayue stood at the entrance of the eastern courtyard, watching the men rummaging through everything inside, when her heart suddenly clenched.
That half red envelope!
Drawing a sharp breath, she lifted her skirt to hurry inside, but the men worked fast — in the blink of an eye, someone emerged holding the red envelope, calling out, “Found it.”
The lead runner opened the envelope, held the banknotes up to the light, and gave a slight nod.
“Sir.” Huayue stepped forward quickly, her expression composed. “This envelope belongs to me.”
The runner, who’d been about to leave, paused, glanced at her with a frown, and waved a hand. “Then you’ll be coming along to the yamen too.”
Chaotic footsteps swept out from the eastern courtyard through the front hall, like a sudden downpour crossing a lotus pond — and then, moments later, the rain subsided, leaving only a courtyard full of panicked servants.
Huayue had assumed she would be taken to wherever Li Jingyun was, so she remained fairly calm — but once she arrived at the Metropolitan Governor’s office and was placed in the holding hall, she realized Li Jingyun wasn’t there.
“You’re here too?” Liu Chenghe sat inside, his face full of worry, and startled at the sight of her, his eyes going wide.
Pushed in through the gate, Huayue glanced around, then smiled at him. “They found half a red envelope in the residence, so I was brought along.”
Liu Chenghe drew a sharp breath. “From the Third Young Master’s room?”
Her hand tightening around her own sleeve, Huayue’s heart pounded hard, and she nodded, biting her lip. “I hadn’t put it in the right place.”
“This is bad, this is bad.” Liu Chenghe leaned back against the wall, rubbing his temples. “If they hadn’t found the banknotes in his room, it would’ve been fine, but now that they have — the Third Young Master’s in real trouble.”
Her heart gave a sharp lurch, and she looked down at her own fingers, the knuckles white from how tightly she clenched them. “What… exactly happened?”
Perhaps out of boredom from being locked up, Liu Chenghe glanced around before coming closer to explain quietly, “The red envelope the Third Young Master accepted is the custom of the spring hunt — he didn’t really want it, but taking it kept the Princess Imperial at ease. In the end, it was just doing her a favor. Who could have known this time the Princess Imperial’s side had a traitor — some leftover slave from the previous dynasty, apparently — determined to drag us down with them.”
“Normally we’d have the Crown Prince backing us, no need to be afraid, but the trouble this time is that the money the Third Young Master accepted came from the Princess Imperial, so the Crown Prince may not be so willing to step in and save him. And with the Princess Imperial already displeased about the Third Young Master suddenly taking a concubine, if he’s caught in this, it won’t be easy for him to get out clean.”
He sighed heavily, his tone grave, and hearing it, Huayue couldn’t help feeling increasingly distressed as well.
“Will he suffer in there?” she asked, her voice very quiet.
Liu Chenghe shook his head. “Who knows? It was supposed to be an open trial, but for some reason the Governor’s office suddenly shut its doors, and it seems a fair number of people have gathered outside.”
The person before him fell silent, her small, palm-sized face pale and bloodless, her expression still fairly composed, but her lashes trembled, her hands twisting together, her body shaking faintly.
Just an ordinary, helpless, pitiable little girl, really. What did the Third Young Master even see in her?
Liu Chenghe shook his head and looked away.
“Master Liu.” The girl suddenly called out to him, her voice carrying some hesitation.
Having weathered plenty in the world of romance himself, he knew exactly what a woman usually meant to say at a moment like this, and waved a hand to cut her off. “You don’t need to worry too much. The Third Young Master’s already arranged everything — even if something does happen to him, it won’t touch you at all.”
“Master Liu misunderstands.” Huayue looked up at him. “This concubine has a matter she’d like to ask for your help with.”
Liu Chenghe grew even more impatient. “Letting you walk away unscathed is already more than generous of him. What more could you want?”
She paused for a moment, then smiled, saying earnestly, “This concubine would like to find an opportunity to meet the leftover slave from the previous dynasty who filed the accusation.”
“…” Liu Chenghe turned to look at her, utterly baffled.
The place they were being held was the holding hall, where anyone awaiting trial would be temporarily kept — so even if Huayue hadn’t said anything, that man would be passing through here eventually anyway.
He looked at Yin Huayue and noticed the earlier panic seemed to have vanished from her expression. She sat cross-legged on the straw, her spine straight, her neck held with an elegant poise, her eyes even carrying a gleam he found strangely unfamiliar.
Li Jingyun stood in the great hall, its doors and windows tightly shut, yawning with some boredom.
The smell of wine still clung to him. The Metropolitan Governor eyed him with a frown, not daring to stand too close, only saying, “This matter is best not made too public.”
“Why not?” He looked up. “Lacking witnesses, or evidence? This lord can supply both.”
Was this really about witnesses and evidence? Liu Taiping’s face had already gone pale. First a servant coming to accuse the Xu family’s heir, and now the General’s residence’s own heir coming directly to accuse the reigning Princess Imperial herself — his office was the Metropolitan Governor’s, not the Golden Throne Hall. How was he supposed to try a case of this magnitude?
Was the Third Young Master out of his mind? A matter that had essentially nothing to do with him, and the higher-ups merely wanted to bully a soft target by targeting the Xu family — yet here he was, turning himself in voluntarily, even claiming that over the past three years the Princess Imperial had bribed him with no less than fifty thousand taels of silver.
Could this even be tried? He didn’t want to lose his head, and he had an entire family depending on him to survive.
The Princess Imperial’s kept man came rushing over in a hurry, and standing there now, could only smile and offer placating words. “Third Young Master, this really has nothing to do with the Princess Imperial. It was this lowly one who gave the red envelope.”
“Where did you get that kind of money — Master Liu wouldn’t dare ask, but do you think even His Majesty wouldn’t dare ask either?” Li Jingyun grinned drunkenly, cupping his hand into the shape of a cup and offering it toward him in mock toast. “Truly, Master Long is quite wealthy, throwing around large sums of silver at the pleasure houses. If the Princess Imperial knew, who knows what would become of you.”
Long Lin’s face went pale as he listened. “You… how could you…”
“This lord’s favorite haunt happens to be Qifeng Pavilion — I’ve run into you there more times than I can count,” he said with a sigh. “The Princess Imperial, golden branch and jade leaf that she is — how could she compare to the red hibiscus by the wayside?”
Liu Taiping cleared his throat lightly, straightening his expression. “In this court of law, let’s not speak of such romantic dalliances.”
Li Jingyun turned, saying lazily, “Then open the court proceedings. My advisor is waiting outside.”
“This…” Liu Taiping glanced at Long Lin.
This man’s presence here surely carried the Princess Imperial’s own intent — it depended entirely on what he said now.
Long Lin’s expression still carried some anger, but the look he gave Li Jingyun was already full of wariness. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled Li Jingyun aside and said quietly, “Third Young Master, there’s really no need for this. The Xu family’s a minor household — why go to such lengths for them? If your father finds out, he’ll only be upset with you again. Why don’t you head back to the residence for now, and let this one handle things here — how does that sound?”
Li Jingyun replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes at all. “It’s hardly come to anything yet. I still plan to go pay my respects to His Majesty at the Golden Hall.”
His expression shifting, Long Lin’s eyes darkened. “Third Young Master, there are some things not even you alone can change. Even if you mean to take the blame for someone today, this bribery charge against Xu Changyi is backed by witnesses and evidence both — once your father arrives, you’ll have no choice but to return to the residence.”
So that was what he’d been waiting for. Li Jingyun nodded, brushed past him, and looked toward Liu Taiping. “Then let’s open the court while my father hasn’t arrived yet.”
He picked up the gavel, turning it once in his hand before bringing it down with a crack on the long table. The tightly shut doors swung open at once, and yamen runners poured in from both sides, staffs planted firmly as they cried out in unison: “Order — in the court—!”
Liu Taiping’s expression showed his reluctance as he glanced at Long Lin, who, steeling himself, gave a nod.
A long sigh escaped Liu Taiping as he took his seat at the head of the hall. Just as he was about to call for the accused to be brought in, the head constable rushed in, saying, “My lord, General Li has arrived. This one couldn’t stop him.”
The words had barely left his mouth when he was pushed aside by the man behind him.
Li Jingyun’s eyes darkened. Across the hall, Long Lin laughed instead, hurrying forward to greet him. “General, you’ve arrived — please, take the Third Young Master back quickly. He’s committed no crime, but with him standing here, it’s obstructing Master Liu’s proceedings.”
Li Shoutian stepped through the door, his gaze sweeping coldly over Li Jingyun before he moved to stand at the observation seats. “No need to concern yourselves with me. I’ve simply come to listen to the proceedings, to see what crime our General’s residence has committed, that it should be searched without even an imperial edict.”
His heart gave a jolt, and Liu Taiping’s expression turned bitter. He wanted to explain that this hadn’t been his idea, but the official cap was already on his head, and having taken the seat of authority, there was no more room to grovel now.
Steeling himself, Liu Taiping summoned the Princess Imperial’s servant to be brought in.
“General Li, there’s no need to be so upset either. This matter has nothing to do with the General’s residence — it’s the Xu family that’s brought the trouble on themselves,” Long Lin said, standing beside Li Shoutian with a smile. “You see, this servant’s accusation is against Xu Changyi. The Third Young Master is simply acting on impulse, insisting on standing by his brother through thick and thin.”
Li Shoutian looked at Li Jingyun with some suspicion, but the latter, standing beside the kneeling servant, remained expressionless.
“The kneeling party will restate the accusation,” Liu Taiping ordered, striking the table. The clerk beside him, holding his brush, didn’t even bother to prepare to record it — this servant had said the same thing every time before.
But this time, the servant knocked his head to the ground, then rose and said something entirely different: “This lowly one confesses. This lowly one was threatened by someone and made a false accusation against the Xu family’s young master. The Xu family’s young master is innocent.”
The moment these words left his mouth, the entire hall fell utterly silent.
Long Lin was the first to react, leaping up to rush at the servant, but Li Jingyun moved faster, stepping sideways to block him.
“Continue,” he said, looking down at the man. “Tell them the truth, and this lord will see that you’re spared.”
The small servant’s body trembled, and he stammered out, “Some days ago, someone brought a bundle of silver, demanding this lowly one accuse the Xu young master, and insisting this lowly one say the banknotes came from a certain young lady. This lowly one didn’t understand what it meant, but that person threatened that if I didn’t comply, I wouldn’t survive. This lowly one had no choice but to obey.”
“And why have you suddenly changed your account now.” Liu Taiping struck the gavel. “Do you understand this counts as trifling with the court?”
“This lowly one… this lowly one’s conscience wouldn’t allow it.” He knocked his head against the ground twice, his eyes darting about. “This lowly one feared that even after doing as told, there would be no good end, and that it would drag an innocent person down as well — better to speak the truth and beg my lord for justice!”
Long Lin, hearing this, flew into a rage, storming forward to curse at him. “You wretched slave, how dare you spout such nonsense in this court!”
“Everything this lowly one has said is true.” He glanced fearfully at Long Lin, then lowered his head again. “This lowly one is merely a servant — why would I bribe Master Xu? What benefit would there be in it for me?”
“You—” Long Lin was livid, but a glance at Li Shoutian standing nearby made him hold back, retreating a couple steps and signaling frantically to Liu Taiping instead.
But Liu Taiping didn’t even look up to catch his meaning, only saying gravely, “In that case, this case must be dismissed.”
“Why should it be dismissed?” Li Jingyun said with a laugh. “Isn’t there still the crime of inciting false accusation to consider? Go on with the trial, my lord — let’s see just what divine schemer set this trap to frame the Xu family, and even dared threaten someone close to the Princess Imperial.”
Liu Taiping glanced at him and said, “That would require opening a separate case, to be tried another day.”
“And the Xu family?” His smile slowly faded. “Since the case can’t even be formally opened now, shouldn’t he be released?”
Catching sight of General Li’s stern expression in the distance, Liu Taiping decided against arguing further, waving for the clerk to draft the paperwork for approval, and sending the head constable off with the release order.
A crisis that had come on with such ferocity ended, in the end, as something close to a farce. Liu Taiping invited Li Shoutian aside to talk and apologize, and Li Jingyun followed the yamen runners out of the courtroom.
“Third Young Master.” A yamen runner said quietly. “Those two people you asked about are still waiting in the holding hall.”
Two people? Li Jingyun nodded, thinking Wen Guzhi had probably rushed over upon hearing the news as well.
But when he pushed open the door, he saw Yin Huayue.
The girl was curled up in a corner of the cell, her body small and huddled — if not for the pale color of her clothing standing out against the dark wall behind her, he might almost have missed her entirely.
Torn between exasperation and amusement, he walked straight over, pulled apart the lock on the cell door, crossed the distance to crouch before her in a few strides, and reached out to feel her forehead.
Huayue had been resting with her eyes closed, and opened them the moment he touched her, her clear, unclouded eyes carrying a hint of confusion as they looked straight into his.
“…”
Something struck his chest, and Li Jingyun withdrew his hand, scolding her with some awkward discomfort. “Why did you come here?”
She looked him over — behind him, then over his clothes — confirming there were no injuries, and finally let out a long breath, saying quietly, “They found the red envelope in the eastern courtyard, so I came along.”
“What does that have to do with you?” He frowned. “Disaster strikes and you don’t even think to run — you go rushing straight into it instead?”
“That envelope was somewhere it shouldn’t have been because I put it there. If Young Master is found guilty because of it, that’s my fault too.” Huayue straightened up, catching sight of the yamen runners standing outside the door, and quickly tugged at his sleeve, lowering her voice. “This concubine has already spoken with someone — if he doesn’t continue with the accusation, you can simply deny ever having seen the red envelope, and say it was this concubine’s private savings instead.”
Watching her anxious expression, something stirred faintly in the depths of his dark eyes. He leaned against the cell bars and sat down slowly beside her, saying with a wistful sigh, “I’m afraid that won’t work.”
“Why not?” She grew anxious, bracing herself up to grab his arm, urging earnestly, “You have the General’s residence protecting you — as long as someone’s willing to take the blame, they surely won’t pursue it further.”
“That way, this lord would be free and clear.” He tilted his head to look at her sideways. “And you?”
Huayue smiled, counting it off on her fingers methodically for him. “This concubine would at most be detained for a few days. Once you’re cleared, you can find a way to get this concubine out. Besides, as long as the one who made the accusation stays quiet, this case won’t stir up much more trouble.”
She was convinced her plan was flawless, but for some reason, the person before her showed not the slightest sign of approval, instead shaking his head with a sigh. “Naive.”
“The banknotes you accepted have traceable marks — how could they possibly pass as private savings? If you took the blame for this lord, you’d be thrown into the actual prison. That’s no pleasant place — there’s torture involved there.”
He closed his eyes, looking at her, his tone laden with meaning. “You’d dare face torture?”
Almost without hesitation, Huayue nodded. “Those kinds of places — this concubine is more familiar with them than you are. Better this concubine goes than you.”
Her gaze was resolute and bright, firm and unwavering.
He studied her for a moment, then deliberately looked away toward somewhere else, the corner of his mouth curving upward without his permission.
He didn’t consider himself an easy man to coax, but thinking of just how terrified of death she usually was, and now seeing this look of hers, ready to face death without flinching, something warm seemed to well up inside him, like warm water rising to lift back up the thing that had sunk down earlier.
Seems like she’s not entirely indifferent to him after all.
“Third Young Master.” Liu Chenghe, who had been watching the whole exchange off to the side, could no longer hold back. “Shouldn’t we get out of here first? You can keep talking with little sister-in-law after.”
Huayue looked up, confused. “We can leave already?”
Liu Chenghe laughed, shaking his head. “Little sister-in-law, you really are too naive — if we couldn’t leave, would the Third Young Master be able to stand here chatting nonsense with you like this? You’d have been dragged off already.”
Li Jingyun turned his head, eyeing him through half-lidded eyes.
“…But, things don’t look too settled right now either.” His tone shifting abruptly, Liu Chenghe said gravely. “Let’s get out of here first, and discuss things properly.”
Agreeing, Li Jingyun brushed the loose straw from his robe and hoisted the little thing beside him up as well. “Let’s go.”
Huayue hesitated. “Don’t I need to stay and explain about the red envelope?”
“No need.” Li Jingyun turned to walk out. “I’m hungry. Let’s go back and eat.”
He walked ahead with Liu Chenghe, and the person behind them still seemed a bit dazed, falling behind, dragging her feet.
“What was that servant’s story?” Li Jingyun, not rushing her, took the opportunity to ask Liu Chenghe quietly while she lagged behind.
Liu Chenghe perked up at the question. “Third Young Master, you should have seen it — that little girl of yours acts like some kind of sorceress. The moment that servant saw her in the holding hall, he seemed completely bewitched, doing whatever she said. He’d risked his life making that false accusation, and then turned around and was willing to ruin his own testimony.”
Li Jingyun frowned. “What exactly did she say to him?”
“I was right there listening, and she didn’t say much of anything, honestly — just asked if he could do her a favor and change his statement, and the servant just… agreed.” Liu Chenghe scratched his chin. “Aside from sorcery, I can’t think of any other explanation.”
Something flickered through Li Jingyun’s mind, and he pressed his lips together thoughtfully. But after only a moment, he asked again, “Why would she do this?”
“What else could it be? Worried about you, of course. The moment she heard you were in trouble, her little face went white as paper.” Liu Chenghe clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Seemed pretty cold and distant before — but I guess it’s true what they say, hardship reveals true feeling.”
Hearing this, Li Jingyun’s brow lifted, a bright gleam entering his eyes.
He didn’t want to look too obviously pleased, so he kept his expression stern, saying only, “Well, she’s this lord’s concubine after all. Naturally her heart leans toward this lord.”
The satisfaction in his voice was impossible to hide — if he’d had a tail, it would surely have been wagging enough to punch a hole through the sky.
Liu Chenghe shuddered with distaste, rubbing his own arms. “Third Young Master, we’re both men who’ve spent our time in the world of romance and pleasure — do we really have to hang ourselves from the same tree?”
He gave him a cool glance and shook his head. “Someone who’s never raised a dog wouldn’t understand.”
Liu Chenghe: “…”
What did raising a dog have to do with any of this?
“This lord still has some business to attend to. Go get Xu Changyi and see his grandfather safely back to the residence,” Li Jingyun said, giving him a shove. “Keep a low profile these next couple of days, stay out of trouble.”
“Hey…” Liu Chenghe wanted to protest, but the Third Young Master had already stopped paying attention to him, turning to bend slightly toward Yin Huayue, who had fallen behind, and patting his hands together. “Come here.”
The dazed little pet obediently caught up to his side, looking up at him with clear, black-and-white eyes, innocent and unclouded.
He took a breath, then decided to throw shame to the wind for once. “You’re cleared, yes — but the case isn’t closed, and a new one’s been opened. If you go back to Madam’s side now and someone investigates further, it could implicate her too.”
Huayue startled, her brow furrowing tightly. “Then should this concubine temporarily move out of the General’s residence, and come back once the case is resolved?”
“No need for that either.” He stroked his chin, considering the matter carefully. “Just stay in the eastern courtyard for now. If anything changes, it’ll be easier to inform you.”
That did seem to make sense, and she lowered her eyes, murmuring, “Thank you, Young Master.”
He pressed a finger to her forehead, sighing as he comforted her. “It’s fine. Don’t take it to heart.”
Huayue had no idea he’d turned himself in to take the blame for someone else — she only assumed she’d nearly gotten him convicted by putting the red envelope in the wrong place, and her heart couldn’t quite settle, no matter how composed her outward bearing remained; her eyes had gone faintly red.
Seeing this, he actually felt a pang of guilt now. “Hey, it’s all fine now, isn’t it?”
“This concubine didn’t say it wasn’t fine.” She pressed her lips together stubbornly. “As long as you’re back safely, that’s what matters.”
Li Jingyun laughed, torn between amusement and exasperation. “Then why are your eyes red?”
“The wind.”
“And your nose?”
“It’s cold.”
Somewhat exasperated now, she looked up and glared at him. “Why does the young master care so much about this.”
He laughed softly, his gaze sweeping over her face and landing on her flushed lips, murmuring, “Here I thought you were worried about me.”
She startled slightly, turning her face away awkwardly. “Young Master is perfectly fine — why would a servant need to worry.”
Sighing with mock regret, Li Jingyun wanted to tease her further, but just then the gate of the yamen office swung open ahead, and several figures strode quickly inside.
The one in the lead wore a star-patterned long robe, gripping a compass of heaven and earth, his gaze exceptionally cold. His strides were enormous, and in the blink of an eye he had crossed the distance to stand directly before him, nearly level with his gaze.
The smile vanished from his face at once. Li Jingyun looked back at him, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, he saw the man suddenly reach out a hand, pulling toward the person behind him.
The pale green skirt hem flew up, the wide sleeve swept out with it, and before Huayue could react, her whole body pitched forward.