Yang Lun stood by the horse post, taking a water flask and tilting his head back to drink.

Li Shan came hurrying along the snowy path, calling out to Yang Lun: “Lord Yang, you came to the Lake Palace without even letting me know. I…”

Being advanced in years and running while speaking urgently, his words were cut short as he choked on the snowy wind mid-sentence, stumbling as he coughed.

Yang Lun tossed the water flask to his servant and walked a few steps toward Li Shan. “Master Li need not have come specially. You serve His Majesty; my matters shouldn’t trouble you.”

His words were both cautious and proper.

Li Shan, having received this respect, felt more at ease as he caught his breath while studying the young man before him.

He and Deng Ying had passed the imperial examinations the same year, making them both classmates and friends. Though one entered the Six Bureaus while the other worked in practical matters at the Ministry of Works, their career paths diverging, they were still often compared by people in the capital.

Yang Lun was twenty-eight years old, four years older than Deng Ying, and slightly taller. With deep brows and handsome eyes, his features were sharp and clean. Today he wore informal attire of dark blue robes with a black sash at his waist, from which hung a chrysanthemum-carved green jade pendant. Standing on the snowy grounds, his bearing was proper and his posture straight, making the hunched-shoulder eunuchs working on the slope appear even more stooped in comparison.

The Yang family had long prided themselves on being part of the pure stream in officialdom, revering jade, and scholarly pursuits. However, the previous generation had mostly been bureaucrats who, while making no great achievements, had done well enough for themselves. The old master Yang had already retired from office and was living in quiet cultivation at a mountain temple in Zhejiang, having previously served as Grand Secretary and been part of the previous dynasty’s Inner Cabinet. The younger generation proved less ambitious – apart from Yang Lun who entered officialdom through the imperial examinations, there remained only one fourteen-year-old youth named Yang Qing still in school. The rest were wastrels managing silk and cotton businesses back home in Zhejiang.

However, the Yang clan had always been known for producing beautiful people, both men and women typically being exceptionally attractive. This was true of Yang Lun and Yang Qing, while the two Yang daughters, Yang Nuan and Yang Wan, were sought after by noble families throughout the capital. Yang Nuan had entered the palace four years ago and was made Consort Ning after bearing a prince. Yang Wan had been betrothed to Zhang Luo, the Northern Commander of the Imperial Guard. They were originally to be married at the end of last year, but with the major case of Deng Yi arising then, the Northern Command’s prison was packed full of people. Zhang Luo, mired in bloody affairs, couldn’t spare a moment. After the Deng case concluded, he received an imperial command to go south, forcing the marriage to be temporarily postponed.

What was lamentable now was that since Yang Wan’s disappearance at Linggusi Temple, the Zhang family had initially been anxious, sending people to search everywhere.

After searching for several days without success, they fell silent about Yang Wan, as if the engagement had never existed.

Half a month passed, and even the Yang family began to lose heart. Only Yang Lun refused to give up.

Between handling his ministerial duties and searching around Linggusi Temple, after half a month of toil, he had grown noticeably thinner.

“Lord Yang must take care of his health.”

Yang Lun didn’t respond to Li Shan’s words, instead saying directly: “I came today only to search for my younger sister. Yesterday I heard a lake worker say that half a month ago, several people fell down the southern slope, so I came to look. I’ll leave when the sun sets. Master Li should attend to his own business.”

Li Shan hurriedly replied: “I came specifically about this matter for Your Lordship.”

He then pulled out a lotus jade pendant from his sleeve: “My subordinates found this outside the storehouse today. Please look, isn’t this from your family?”

Yang Lun recognized the jade pendant at a glance – it was made from jade he had brought back from Luoyang last year.

He quickly took it and gripped it in his palm, “Where is my sister?”

“Lord Yang, please remain calm. We’re searching the Lake Palace, but haven’t found her yet. I…”

Li Shan hesitated, carefully weighing his words before gathering the courage to ask: “If I may be so bold to ask Your Lordship, you and Deng Ying are old friends, so does your sister know…”

“My sister was raised by my mother since childhood. How could she possibly know Deng Ying!”

Yang Lun didn’t understand why Li Shan suddenly connected Yang Wan to Deng Ying. Remembering how the Northern Command had just sealed the capital’s academy that spoke up for Deng Ying, he became sensitive and directly pressured Li Shan: “Never mind about me, but my sister is a woman – how can you make such connections? Master Li, you shouldn’t spread baseless rumors. Your Lake Palace has had many troubles since the new year and is already unstable. If at this time you were to…”

“Yes, understood.”

Li Shan bowed and interrupted him, not daring to mention that he had learned of Yang Wan visiting Deng Ying several times through questioning at the storehouse.

“My Lord, we servants were also anxious when we saw this jade pendant. We feared that when Lord Zhang Luo returned to the capital and learned we were so blind as to not recognize Miss Yang, letting her suffer here all these days, he might bring those Imperial Guard gentlemen to skin us alive. Right now, the people below are already searching thoroughly. Perhaps Lord Yang could wait a bit longer – we might find her tonight.”

Only after hearing these words did Yang Lun understand his true meaning.

But thinking back on Li Shan’s earlier words about Deng Ying sent chills down his spine.

“Why… did you ask about Deng Ying earlier?”

Li Shan dared not look at Yang Lun.

Yang Lun leveled his tone: “I spoke too hastily before, Master Li. Please don’t take offense.”

Li Shan sighed, still staring at his own feet, “Ah, I don’t know if it’s just rumors from the weaklings in the Lake Palace, but they say these past ten days or so, there’s been a young lady secretly caring for Deng Ying. The medicines I had drying in the courtyard have been moved quite a bit to where Deng Ying is being held. After checking, they were all medicines for treating external wounds. Lord Yang, I know your sister is betrothed to the Zhang family. These matters concern reputation – speaking of them would harm the young lady’s name, so I’ve already had the appropriate people beaten.”

After Li Shan finished speaking, the man before him didn’t respond for a long while. He couldn’t help but glance up, only to see Yang Lun’s face taut, his knuckles white from clenching.

“My Lord…”

“I understand. Thank you for your trouble, Master Li.”

Those words were spoken through gritted teeth, sending chills down Li Shan’s spine as he hurriedly said, “I wouldn’t dare.”

“My Lord, we are at fault. Earlier when Master Zheng from the Ceremonial Office came and inquired about this matter, we realized we had made a grave mistake. We dare not shirk responsibility. If Your Lordship needs anything, just tell me.”

Yang Lun barely suppressed the shame and anger in his heart, glancing behind Li Shan.

After the first snow, everything was covered in white, making it impossible to see clearly.

“Is Deng Ying still in the Lake Palace?”

“He is.”

“When will the punishment be carried out?”

As he said this, he unconsciously gripped the jade ornament’s chain.

Li Shan also glanced behind him, “Zhang the Beard has already gone there. Looking at the time… it should be happening now.”

“Mm.”

He paused, seemingly hesitating about how to continue asking without getting too involved.

“And after?”

“Afterward he’ll stay here to recover for a few days, then be taken to the Ceremonial Office through the Ministry of Rites.”

“Alright.”

He stopped this line of conversation, mounted his horse, and said, “I’ll go with you now to search the Lake Palace.”

At this moment, the torture chamber was deathly silent.

The unbearable pain had begun to subside. Deng Ying lay face-up on the couch while Zhang the Beard stood at his feet, untying the ropes that bound him. As he pulled at them, he said, “I’ve been an executioner for many years, but you’re the most unlucky one. Speaking nicely, it’s official business; speaking plainly, there’s not even a bit of money in it. Never mind that – usually when I work on people, they have to give me a note saying ‘death brings no blame,’ but you don’t need to write one. So I have to say this: if after three days your lower half isn’t well and the spirits of death take you underground, you can’t complain about me to the King of Hell.”

Deng Ying tried to speak but only managed a cough.

Zhang the Beard pulled off the bindings at his ankles, “Don’t cough, hold it in. The more you cough, the more it hurts.”

Deng Ying seemed to heed his words, forcing down the cough.

Zhang the Beard wiped the sweat from his brow and gave a coarse laugh, “But you young man, you really can endure pain. Before, there were many stronger than you, but none who didn’t cry out. When you stayed silent, I was scared you’d die on me.”

After speaking, he reached to pull off the bindings at his wrists as well, slung them over his shoulder, and bent down to say, “Alright, keep enduring. These three days are between life and death – if you make it through, you’ll have crossed the ghost gate and can become a different person.”

Three days, and then he could become a different person.

But these three days were truly difficult to endure. Deng Ying could only sleep through the pain in a daze.

When he woke thinking much time had passed, he opened his eyes to find it still light outside.

It was still the same day, just approaching dusk, with everything silent.

Outside the window, the snow had mostly stopped, and in the clearing western sky, the outline of the setting sun could be dimly seen through the clouds.

Deng Ying felt that except for his wound which burned like fire, the rest of his body was as cold as ice.

The room was stuffy, his nostrils full of the smell of blood.

He wanted to push open the window, but his arms had no strength. He could only grasp the windowsill, trying to push open the latch.

“You can’t let the wind in yet.”

The voice came from the head of the bed, accompanied by the sound of water splashing, followed by the rustle of clothing as someone moved.

Deng Ying managed to crane his neck to look toward the head of the bed.

A lamp was lit on the wooden stand at the bedhead, and someone was bent over washing a cloth in a basin.

“Yang… Wan?”

The person under the lamp started, quickly raising her head.

This was the first time Deng Ying had spoken to her.

“Mm, it’s me again.”

She brushed aside the messy hair from her forehead, giving a self-deprecating smile.

“Do you become uncomfortable whenever you see me?”

As she spoke, she wiped away water that had splashed on her face, folded and wrung out the cloth, then walked toward Deng Ying.

“Don’t come closer.”

As he spoke, his body suddenly tensed, veins standing out on his neck. Whether from pain or heat, sweat soaked his entire body.

If earlier in the storehouse he had been able to coldly avoid Yang Wan, now he didn’t even qualify to avoid her.

“That’s not what I meant.” She spoke while placing the cloth on his forehead.

Then she crouched down with her back to Deng Ying, using an iron poker to stir the charcoal brazier, “I don’t mean to offend you. Sitting like this, I won’t turn around unless necessary.”

Deng Ying propped himself up to look at his lower body. A white cotton cloth covered his wound; besides this, he had no other covering. The despair brought by his body’s brokenness and exposure created a hole in his resilient mental defenses, threatening to collapse them entirely. For a moment, the word “death” flashed through his mind.

Then at this moment, Yang Wan suddenly spoke again.

“Are you still cold? There’s a lot of charcoal piled outside, should I bring some more in?”

Her hand stretched out in front of the fire, delicate and beautiful.

Her hair was made puffy and messy by the flames, loosely piled on her shoulders, the exposed skin of her shoulders pure and flawless. Seeing a woman’s skin at this moment, Deng Ying suddenly felt that the physical contact he had desired before his punishment now seemed utterly base and contemptible.

“Get out.”

He could only say these two words, but maintaining his cultivated manner, even in circumstances of shame and hatred, his voice wasn’t cruel or even distant – he only wanted to separate this woman from his wretchedness.

Yang Wan wasn’t surprised. She raised one hand to prop up her chin, looking at the shadows on the ground as she smiled and said:

“Don’t send me away. I had decided not to come to find you at this time, but just now I couldn’t help coming to take a look, at you…”

She wanted to say Deng Ying was too pitiful but felt that showing him sympathy now would be insulting him, so she cleared her throat to cover it up, “I was too cold myself, and seeing you had a charcoal brazier here, I came in to warm up.”

“…”

The bed board creaked as Deng Ying’s hand slipped, unable to prop himself up, and touched Yang Wan’s back.

Yang Wan only glanced to the side without turning around, taking his wrist and lifting the arm behind her, “Don’t keep trying to prop yourself up to look. You’re not a prisoner of the Ministry of Justice now – the door isn’t locked, they just don’t dare come in to manage you.”

Deng Ying pressed the wrist she had gripped, looking sideways at Yang Wan’s back.

“How do you know?”

Yang Wan smiled, “Ah, it’s the twelfth year of Zhenning – having the surname Deng is a crime. Anyone associated with you has to face the Imperial Guard. Even Yang Lun knows to avoid it, so who wouldn’t know to stay away?”

This showed more understanding than most people.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Me?”

She smiled as she spoke, reaching up to rub her shoulder, then continued stirring the charcoal at her feet, occasionally sniffling, her shoulders rising and falling. Her manner was far from elegant, but it was natural – so natural it almost made one forget she was sitting in a eunuch’s torture chamber.

“Don’t think too much.”

She said this seemingly without any deliberate emotion, but Deng Ying wanted to hear it again.

“What did you say?”

He asked deliberately.

“I said, don’t think too much. Although when a tree falls the monkeys scatter, and when a wall falls everyone pushes it, not everyone wants to kick you while you’re down. You’re too gentle a person – I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”