Zhu Minda’s brow furrowed slightly, and he squinted at Su Jin on the torture bench before saying coolly, “Lord Liu, what is the meaning of this? Please rise.”
Liu Chaoming did not stand, but instead said, “Your Highness, Magistrate Su was summoned to the palace for interrogation by the Imperial Censorate. Now that he has committed an offense, it should be the Imperial Censorate that bears full responsibility.”
Zhu Minda’s heart sank—as expected, this was about Su Jin again.
He said coldly, “Though this person was summoned to the palace by Lord Liu, the offense he committed has nothing to do with the Imperial Censorate’s interrogation. Lord Liu need not concern yourself.”
But Liu Chaoming would not yield: “I dare ask Your Highness, what crime has Su Jin committed?”
Zhu Minda said displeasedly, “What? Must this prince now seek approval from the Imperial Censorate whenever I wish to execute someone?”
Liu Chaoming replied, “Your Highness, forgive me—that is not my intention. But as Su Jin has offended the Crown Prince, I feel I cannot escape responsibility. If Your Highness wishes to punish him, then please punish me as well.”
Zhu Minda’s eyes darkened with menace as he laughed coldly and asked, “What if this prince demands his death?”
Liu Chaoming’s voice was heavy: “Then please punish me together with him.”
Zhu Minda glanced at Zhu Nanxian, who was pinned to the ground still struggling desperately to break free, then at Liu Chaoming kneeling at the side with resolute determination. He did not understand—this was merely an eighth-rank magistrate. Even if he possessed brilliant talent, before the towering imperial authority he was nothing but an ant. Yet he, the Crown Prince, found it so difficult to crush a single ant?
After all, Zhu Minda carried Zhu Jingyuan’s blood in his veins. Once he had decided on something, the more others tried to obstruct him, the more he would do whatever it took to accomplish it.
He laughed coldly: “Good, good! As you all wish, this prince shall kill him first, then deal with you two one by one!”
Just then, a timid voice came from the other end of the hall: “Elder Brother.”
Zhu Minda looked over to see Zhu Seventeen standing at one side of the hall with someone wearing a peacock insignia patch.
The one with the peacock insignia limped forward first, calling out to Zhu Minda with a beaming smile: “Brother-in-law.”
This person was none other than Shen Xi, Vice Minister of Revenue, who had recently had his leg broken by his father for suggesting that “the North-South differences are largely misunderstandings.”
Now, Shen Xi had two stunningly beautiful elder sisters, one of whom had married Zhu Minda and become the Crown Princess. Though he was a subject, he had the good fortune of basking in his sister’s beauty and had become half an imperial relative.
With all the court officials and palace attendants present, when Zhu Minda heard this “brother-in-law,” his face darkened as he rebuked: “Insolent!”
Shen Xi grinned and only then leisurely knelt down.
Zhu Minda had deep affection for the Crown Princess and was thus more lenient with this brother-in-law who frequently visited, not holding his impropriety against him. Instead he said, “You take Seventeen back to the Eastern Palace first. After this prince finishes dealing with matters here, we’ll return and dine together.”
Vice Minister Shen had always been one to join in the excitement. Hearing this, he didn’t move his feet but instead pulled Zhu Seventeen to kneel before Zhu Minda, saying with exaggerated seriousness: “Brother-in-law is angry right now—how can this little brother-in-law leave? How about this: since brother-in-law is going to punish people anyway, why not do it conveniently and punish Seventeen and me together as well?”
Zhu Minda was given a headache by his interference and scolded: “When told to scram, just scram! Stop making trouble!”
Shen Xi looked puzzled: “How is this making trouble?” He pointed his chin at Zhu Nanxian, then at Liu Chaoming. “One legitimate imperial prince, one head of all officials—aside from His Majesty and brother-in-law yourself, the most precious lords in this entire palace are all kneeling here begging for death. If I don’t follow suit and beg for death too, wouldn’t that show a terrible lack of perception?” He then pushed the bewildered Zhu Seventeen kneeling beside him, urging: “Quick, beg your eldest brother to grant us both death, so we can share in the glory of Thirteenth Prince and Lord Liu.”
Zhu Minda’s anger flared as he roared: “Shen Qingyue!” Yet he didn’t know what to say to him.
Shen Xi climbed up the pole offered to him, immediately making a gesture of receiving orders. He glanced at Su Jin, who was bound to the torture bench staring at him, then pointed at the Imperial Guards nearby: “Why are you still bothering with him? A mere eighth-rank minor official—even if he wants to die, he should queue up behind this Vice Minister. You there, bring over that rope binding him.”
The Imperial Guard stared blankly at the hemp rope in his hand.
Shen Xi tilted his head back and stretched out his neck: “Yes, that very hemp rope—just make do with it and come strangle this official to death.”
This was Su Jin’s first time seeing Shen Qingyue—a refined gentleman with features like a painting, a tear mole at the corner of his eye that added three parts charm and grace when he smiled. What a pity, though—the sight of him grabbing for the rope to put around his own neck was truly unbecoming. So much so that whenever she recalled it in later years, it remained as vivid as yesterday.
Years later, when Su Jin was promoted to Minister and reached the peak of officialdom, Shen Xi got into trouble with her over some small matter. He tried to pull on their friendship, asking if she could, for the sake of close friends, just punish him privately and be done with it.
Su Jin sat high in the hall and said coolly, “Fine.” Then she threw down a bundle of hemp rope and said: “That rope they used to bind me back then—you can take it and strangle yourself with it.”
With Shen Xi stirring up chaos, Zhu Minda actually calmed down amidst the commotion.
Shen Qingyue was right—Liu Chaoming was the head of all officials, while Su Jin was merely an eighth-rank minor official. To stand in deadlock with the Imperial Censorate over such a person was not worth it.
He had been impulsive and nearly lost sight of the bigger picture.
Zhu Minda stopped Shen Xi and said sternly: “No ruler acts as ruler, no subject acts as subject—what kind of spectacle is this?” Then he turned to Liu Chaoming: “Since Lord Liu vouches for him, this prince shall not pursue Magistrate Su’s transgression this time.” He then sighed, “So be it. For the sake of the Imperial Censorate, you may take this person with you, Lord Liu.”
The Imperial Guards untied Su Jin’s bindings. Having just received one stroke of the cane, her feet still trembled slightly when they touched the ground. A palace attendant tried to help support her, but she shook her head and stepped aside.
Su Jin walked to Liu Chaoming’s side and together with him took leave of Zhu Minda.
After they had taken only a few steps, Zhu Minda called out again: “Lord Liu.”
Su Jin’s eyes dimmed.
A faint smile played at the corners of Zhu Minda’s lips, as if his earlier fierce anger had been nothing but a joke: “Lord Liu is usually burdened with official duties and rarely visits the Eastern Palace. Even last month for my son’s first birthday celebration, we only saw your gift but not you in person. At the end of next month is the Crown Princess’s birthday. I do hope Lord Liu will certainly attend.”
This, then, was the price of buying a life from the Eastern Palace.
Under Jingyuan Emperor’s tyrannical harsh rule, the court structure that had been overcorrected now displayed a precarious imbalance between ruler and subjects.
Especially now that this founding monarch was growing old and feeble, with various imperial heirs building their own power bases, who among them didn’t covet that supreme imperial authority?
Beneath the seemingly peaceful throne, factions stood in opposition. Being caught in this vortex, even those at the peak of officialdom were but drifting duckweed.
Liu Chaoming turned and bowed, his expression calm and unmoved: “Thank you for the invitation, Your Highness. I will certainly attend the Crown Princess’s birthday.”
The Palace Front Garden, which had been thoroughly disrupted, finally quieted down. Zhu Minda glanced at Zhu Nanxian, saw that he was still staring blankly in the direction Su Jin had left, and a surge of anger rose in his heart again. He swept his sleeves and departed.
The Imperial Guards followed Zhu Minda away in a great procession. Zhu Nanxian, freed from his restraints, reached up to pull out the cloth stuffed in his mouth, then spat out a mouthful of clotted blood before rolling over to lie on his back, staring blankly at the sky threatening wind and rain.
His bandaged knees had seeped blood again during his earlier struggles. Besides his gums, his fingertips were also scratched bloody.
But what use was any of it? Five years ago he hadn’t been able to protect Su Jin, and after five years, he still couldn’t.
At least it wasn’t he who had protected her.
Shen Xi, having expended much effort stirring things up, finally achieved a good outcome. He sat down heavily beside Zhu Nanxian, supporting himself on the ground, and looking at Zhu Nanxian’s wretched state, clicked his tongue twice and asked: “Zhu Thirteen, was that person bound to the torture bench just now the one for whom you nearly tore off Zeng Youliang’s arm five years ago?”
Zhu Nanxian turned to look at him, seeming unwilling to say more, only asking: “What are you doing here?”
Shen Xi grinned and looked toward the Ministry of Justice prison: “Me? I have an enemy who’s about to die, so I came to bring him one last meal. After all, being enemies for a lifetime is also a form of fate.”
Zhu Nanxian turned his face back to stare at the sky, too lazy to pay him any more attention.
Seeing him like this, Shen Xi said lightly: “I know what you’re thinking. Are you feeling that despite your lofty position you cannot control your fate? That despite being an imperial prince you cannot even protect the one person you want to protect? Are you hating yourself for being able only to watch helplessly as he dies with no way to save him? Zhu Thirteen, do you feel like you’ve lived in vain?”
These words were like sharp blades, cutting all the way through wind and waves straight to Zhu Nanxian’s heart.
Zhu Nanxian clenched his fists tightly and squeezed out a single word from between his teeth: “Scram.”
Shen Xi deflected effortlessly: “Do you want to know why?”
Zhu Nanxian’s eyes dimmed with pain. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he asked hoarsely: “Why?”
Shen Xi said: “Even though you saved him, it was also you who placed him in danger. You are a prince, yet you lack supreme power. You were even born and raised under the shelter of this supreme power. Behind you there are inevitably countless pairs of eyes watching. One wrong step from you, and someone will uproot the branches blocking your predetermined path. Your protection, to insignificant people, is actually a double-edged sword. So if you truly want to protect someone, either you must be strong enough, or they must be strong enough. Otherwise, before that time comes, loving from a distance may not be the worst way to keep them safe.”
Zhu Nanxian turned his head and stared at him, stunned.
Shen Xi raised an eyebrow: “Still don’t understand? Let me put it this way—when Seventh Prince was young, he had a cat, white and fluffy, very intelligent. Do you remember?”
Zhu Nanxian nodded.
“Later, one day, that white cat fell ill. Seventh Prince was anxious about it all day and didn’t go to the Hanlin Academy for his studies. That very night, his mother consort ordered someone to skin and kill that cat alive right in front of him.”
Zhu Nanxian’s eyes dimmed as he finally seemed to understand something.
Shen Xi said: “Thirteenth Prince, do you know what lesson this story teaches us?”
Zhu Nanxian asked: “What lesson?”
Shen Xi stared at him with utmost seriousness and said: “This matter teaches us that in this deep palace, keeping cats is not as good as keeping birds, and keeping birds is not as good as raising crickets. Throughout all ages and dynasties, among tens of thousands of imperial princes, plenty loved raising crickets. There have been those who killed cats and executed birds for being playthings that led to the neglect of proper duties, but have you ever heard of anyone exterminating crickets?” Then he grinned and lowered his voice: “Your Highness, I recently acquired a cricket and named it ‘Tiger General.’ Its pair of long whiskers are impressively imposing. Seeing you so troubled and vexed, why don’t I present it to you?”
Zhu Nanxian called out expressionlessly: “Seventeen.”
Zhu Seventeen, who had been standing at the side terrified that his thirteenth brother might take his own life, immediately responded: “Here, here!”
Zhu Nanxian said: “Bring me the Xiongwei sword. Today I absolutely must chop up this bastard surnamed Shen!”
Su Jin followed Liu Chaoming all the way back to the Imperial Censorate.
A strong wind swept across the land, and the long-brewing urgent rain finally fell at dusk. The sky darkened in an instant, before even the evening glow could settle upon the clouds.
How could Su Jin not see clearly the exchange of lives that Zhu Minda had just conducted using himself as bargaining chip?
But now, nothing seemed appropriate to say anymore. Say thanks? The word “thanks” was too light—it would be better not to say it at all from now on. Say something else? But with such accumulated debts weighing on her heart, it was truly difficult to speak again.
Liu Chaoming’s steps paused. He turned back to see her brow furrowed in deep thought and asked softly, “What are you thinking about?”
In the night rain and wind lanterns, the light reflected in Liu Chaoming’s eyes in varying depths. Su Jin raised her eyes to look at him and smiled lightly, the smile not reaching her eyes.
She turned to look at the night scenery soaked in the curtain of water outside the corridor and said faintly, “I was thinking—when will this rain pass?”
Liu Chaoming also turned to look at this rain in the night, saying as if casually: “Though wind and rain never cease, to have one person to share the boat with—that too is a great fortune.”
Then he paused: “Su Shiyu, there is something I wish to ask you.”
A sudden gust of wind carried water droplets that blurred Su Jin’s eyes. The chaotic raindrops seemed to be torn open with a gap, actually allowing her to glimpse starlight through the clouds.
And Liu Chaoming’s words were also carried by this wind into her ears.
“Would you be willing to come to the Imperial Censorate, to follow me from now on, and become a censor who rectifies chaos and remains true to their principles?”
—
Author’s Note:
Shen Xi’s courtesy name is Qingyue