The Ministry of Justice inspector verified Su Jin’s hand warrant and said, “Lord Liu from the Imperial Censorate has arrived and is currently discussing matters with the Minister in the Law and Ordinance Hall. Please wait, sir.”

Su Jin acknowledged and planned to follow him to the duty room to rest briefly, when unexpectedly a hand reached out from the side and stopped her.

The person was a short, rotund figure with a prosperously blessed countenance, who smiled at Su Jin and asked, “Dare I ask if you are Magistrate Su from the Yingtian Prefecture Office?”

He wore a sixth-rank egret insignia, a full two ranks higher than Su Jin, yet showed no airs and even displayed a hint of humility in his expression.

Su Jin respectfully returned the courtesy and said, “That is correct,” then inquired about the person’s name.

It turned out this short, rotund man was surnamed Lu, currently serving as Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice, and was precisely the one who had delivered the death row prisoners to Su Jin on Liu Chaoming’s orders that day.

Hearing that Su Jin had come to report back to Minister Shen of the Ministry of Justice, Vice Minister Lu thought for a moment and said, “In that case, Magistrate Su, you need not wait. I shall go request the Minister’s intentions right away.”

With that, without waiting for Su Jin’s polite response, he hurried off.

Shen Tuo was reviewing the list of offices and personnel involved in the scholar disturbance when someone outside announced that Magistrate Su from the capital office had arrived. Shen Tuo paused his writing, lifted his eyelids to glance at Liu Chaoming, and replied, “Show him in.”

Liu Chaoming remained utterly calm and composed, as if he hadn’t heard anything at all. Shen Tuo tried but couldn’t hold back, and asked, “Is this Magistrate Su the one the old Imperial Censor took a liking to at first sight and repeatedly instructed you to look after, but whom you drove your carriage to pursue yet failed to catch up with, thus ruining the matter?”

Liu Chaoming maintained his unperturbed demeanor, picked up his tea leisurely and said, “What, does the Minister still remember this matter?”

Shen Tuo laughed with a “heh”: “How could I not remember? For those few years whenever the younger generation at court was mentioned, the old Imperial Censor never stopped praising you, saying you were composed and measured yet decisive in action. Only this one matter you handled less than smoothly, which so angered the old man that he couldn’t swallow food for several days.”

Liu Chaoming sipped his tea and said nothing.

Shen Tuo continued, “Later the old man even came to me seeking solutions. What solutions could I have? The Ministry of Personnel’s dispatch had been sent through, and His Majesty had already marked it with the vermillion brush.” He shook his head, saying, “Truly a pity. I remember he passed the imperial examination at only eighteen, with brilliant literary talent and splendid abilities, very much in your style back then. Even giving him the title of second place, or even top scholar, would not have been excessive. It was His Majesty who, upon seeing his age, was so startled that he deliberately pushed his ranking down to fourth, fearing this young talent’s brilliance might attract calamity.”

Liu Chaoming fell silent for a moment. When Su Jin passed the imperial examination, he had not been in the capital, and everything he knew about her afterward was merely hearsay. On the contrary, when they first met in that wind and rain, she did not possess the extraordinary grace spoken of in rumors.

He had even felt regretful, thinking five years of setbacks and hardship had worn away all the edge from this person.

Until the day of the scholar disturbance, when she walked toward him covered in blood and knelt on the ground to confess her guilt.

The gilded slanting sunlight poured over her body, refining a heartbreaking radiance, the sound of her blade striking the ground as if carving into unyielding, proud bones.

Only then did Liu Chaoming realize he had misjudged her.

Perhaps on that first meeting day, the rain threads at Qinhuai were too fine and dense, separating everything in the mortal world into hazy obscurity, and he had failed to see that when she stood in fierce fire and setting sun, even the desolation in her eyes was proudly frost-defying.

Vice Minister Lu escorted Su Jin to the outside of the Law and Ordinance Hall with both invitation and welcome.

After Su Jin paid her respects, Shen Tuo said, “You’ve come at just the right time. This old man is organizing the offices and registry involved in the disturbance that day, and I have several questions for you.”

Su Jin acknowledged and answered Shen Tuo’s questions one by one.

After listening, Shen Tuo made some deletions and additions to the official document before finally setting down his brush, saying, “Originally I summoned you to understand the circumstances of the disturbance that day. However, two days ago, this old man received a secret letter containing an essay, and the sender said it was precisely your notes. Take a look—is it yours?”

The secret letter was embossed with wisteria flowers—it was indeed the one she had given to Ren Xuan earlier.

Su Jin had once been an imperial scholar, and her writings had circulated in the marketplace; her handwriting could not be denied, so she could only acknowledge it.

Shen Tuo raised his hand and slapped it on the desk, rebuking, “What audacity you have! This old man has heard that this essay question was the monthly examination topic the Hanlin Academy set for the various Princes. Confess honestly—which Prince did you write this for?”

In fact, Su Jin had come precisely to confess to the crime of ghostwriting, to summon Yan Ziyan to confront her about Chao Qing’s case.

According to Ren Xuan’s words, the ghostwriting matter had been discovered because it was exposed through the Seventeenth Prince, making it publicly known. Yet listening to Shen Tuo’s words, it seemed he didn’t fully understand the inside story.

Could it be that the Crown Prince deliberately concealed this for Zhu Shisan?

If so, why not simply summon her directly to the Eastern Palace for private interrogation and punishment? Why unnecessarily involve the Ministry of Justice—wouldn’t that be self-contradictory?

Unable to determine the cause and effect, weighing both options, Su Jin could only say, “The ghostwriting matter is true. I request the Minister to punish me.”

She did not mention which Prince it was for.

Shen Tuo laughed with a “hmph,” pointing at Su Jin and saying, “This fellow’s lips are quite tight.” Then he suddenly waved his hand and said, “Forget it. This old man has plenty of cases on his hands and no leisure to bother with such trivial matters.” He then said to Liu Chaoming, “This person is at least an eighth-rank magistrate who has violated protocol. Your Imperial Censorate should properly manage this. You take over this matter.”

Su Jin had been kneeling on the ground, but hearing these words, she couldn’t help slowly straightening her body, looking at Shen Tuo with a confused expression.

What did this mean? Was he letting her off?

Shen Tuo indeed intended to let Su Jin off. His earlier questions to Liu Chaoming had also been to test the Imperial Censorate’s attitude toward Su Jin.

Liu Chaoming possessed a character of “remaining unmoved regardless of wind and rain.” Among the current Seven Ministers, though quite young, his heart seemed to contain a thousand-pound weight—this was why the old Imperial Censor had recommended him for Left Censor-in-Chief upon retirement.

Yet just now when Su Jin was mentioned, Liu Chaoming unexpectedly had a moment of distraction, showing he felt he had failed the old Imperial Censor and owed Su Jin greatly.

Shen Tuo had always practiced impartial law enforcement and was once called an “Iron-Faced Bodhisattva” along with the old Imperial Censor. Now in his advanced years, with the younger generation formidable, he had passed the “Iron-Faced” title to Liu Yun, while he himself had learned from his decorative son the principle of turning a blind eye and letting things pass. So be it—let these youngsters sort things out themselves.

Shen Tuo immediately slapped the desk, assuming a posture of chasing someone out: “What are you still standing there for? Are the floors of my Ministry of Justice particularly comfortable to kneel on?”

Su Jin was bewilderedly scolded and chased out of the Ministry of Justice. She felt no relief in her heart; rather, the purpose of this trip had failed. The Ministry of Justice warrant had already been taken back by the inspector. Next time she entered the palace, it could only be when going to the Imperial Censorate to receive her punishment.

After twenty heavy blows of the plank, she wondered if she would still have the life to walk to the Crown Prince’s Administrative Office.

Su Jin truly felt the opportunity must not be missed, and immediately walked toward the Eastern Palace.

“Stop.” A cold rebuke came from behind.

Su Jin turned around. She didn’t know when Liu Chaoming had also left the Ministry of Justice, still holding her wisteria flower secret letter in his hand, his face cold as he asked, “So unwilling to give up that you still want to find Yan Ziyan?”

Su Jin bowed and said, “My lord misunderstands. This subordinate is visiting the Ministry of Justice for the first time and momentarily lost my way, taking the wrong path.”

Liu Chaoming said, “Lost enough that you can’t distinguish south from north?”

Su Jin couldn’t find words and bent lower.

Liu Chaoming continued, “I see your injuries have healed completely. Why not first go to the Imperial Censorate and receive your twenty strikes of the plank?”

Su Jin made a cupped-hands salute, bending even lower at the waist, already assuming a posture of pleading guilty.

Liu Chaoming stared at her silently for a long while, feeling that even with the old Imperial Censor’s talent for recognizing ability, he inevitably suffered from tunnel vision—only seeing Su Jin’s brilliant literary talent but not seeing how truly detestable this person’s smooth talk could be. For a moment he didn’t want to waste words with her, and grudgingly said two words: “Follow me.”

Su Jin followed Liu Chaoming for a stretch of road, but it was not in the direction of Chengtian Gate, but rather toward the Eastern Palace.

She pondered this inwardly and couldn’t help but ask in surprise, “Is my lord taking this subordinate to the Crown Prince’s Administrative Office?”

Liu Chaoming said nothing.

Su Jin added, “This subordinate thanks Lord Liu.”

Liu Chaoming suddenly turned around, holding up the wisteria flower secret letter in his hand, looking at Su Jin expressionlessly and saying, “No need to thank me. I’m leading you there precisely to interrogate you.”