Zhu Nanxian took the case file and memorial from Su Jin’s hands and glanced at Eunuch You.
Eunuch You understood, bowing as he withdrew to outside the palace garden.
“Come.” Zhu Nanxian held Su Jin’s hand in his palm and led her to push open the hall door beside them.
This place was not the main hall of Weiyang Palace, but rather Gardenia Hall, deep within the gardenia flower garden.
Entering the hall door, Zhu Nanxian set down Su Jin’s memorial and case file, then turned back to personally close the doors and windows, saying, “I’ll look at your memorial later. First let me tell you an urgent matter.”
He turned back to a cabinet, took a scroll and a secret letter from a hidden compartment, and handed them to her. After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “You… are Prime Minister Xie’s granddaughter?”
In the past, Zhu Nanxian only knew that Su Jin was a woman but had never inquired into her birth.
And since he didn’t ask, she had never mentioned it to him either.
Su Jin didn’t answer this question. She unrolled the scroll in her hands.
Inside was mounted a painting of mountains and rivers in wind and rain—the brushwork was magnificent, and it was indeed from the hand of Su Jin’s grandfather, Prime Minister Xie.
This painting was personally painted for her by Xie Xu when he was teaching her to paint on her ninth birthday. Su Jin reached out to trace the five characters “Presented to Xie Clan’s A’Yu” in the lower left corner. After a long moment, she said hoarsely, “I thought this painting had long been burned.”
Zhu Nanxian looked at her. “There used to be a painting of sunrise over rivers hanging in Minghua Palace. The brushwork and technique were the same as this painting. It was one of my imperial father’s most precious possessions. It’s said that when he raised his army, Prime Minister Xie painted it together with my imperial father, Marquis Wenyuan, and the old censor when they made their pledge. We several brothers had all seen it, until the twelfth year of Jingyuan, when my imperial father suddenly put the river painting away.”
Su Jin knew that in the twelfth year of Jingyuan, the Emperor had ordered the abolition of the Secretariat’s Chancellor position. In the thirteenth year, he sent troops to pursue and kill into Shu.
That day, she hid in a haystack and watched as the foster father who had taught and raised her died under swords and blades.
But his expression was truly calm, as if from the day the army was raised, he had been waiting for this day.
Zhu Nanxian said, “This painting was found by Zhu Zhaowei’s spy from the home of an old soldier surnamed Li in Shu. Back then, he served as a constable chief in Shu. Before your old home was burned, he secretly took this painting out. Later, through connections in the government, he had his military registration erased and started a tea business in Shu.
“He had already changed his name, but Zhu Zhaowei probably guessed that you had some connection to Prime Minister Xie, so he specially sent people to Shu to inquire. They went through all the military household registrations from the past twenty years before finally finding this old soldier.”
Su Jin fell silent for a moment, slowly closing the scroll in her hands. She then took out from the secret letter the testimony the spy had brought back.
“This old soldier said that when you moved to Shu with Prime Minister Xie, the capital had already ordered people to watch you. He knew that the person hidden in the mountain dwelling was Prime Minister Xie, and he knew you were his granddaughter. He thought Prime Minister Xie would eventually take you away, but you seemed as if you were going to settle down permanently in Shu. Later, when the imperial order came down, the day he led troops there, he actually saw you. You… were hiding in a haystack on an ox cart nearby.”
Su Jin remembered that she had been trembling slightly while hiding in that haystack.
She was exceptionally precocious—able to recite at three and compose at seven, with perfect recall of the classics and histories. In those years, Grandfather had raised her as if she were a boy. Her childhood time had been tranquil and silent, accompanied only by books. The first time in her life she witnessed weapons of war was that scene of white bones and spilled blood.
Amid sword light and flames, a burly constable walked toward the haystack.
Through the gaps in the hay, she saw that he held a torch and kept staring at the place where she was hiding.
She thought he had seen her, thought she was about to die. The constable’s hand was almost reaching the dry grass when he suddenly lowered it and turned to look at the cart driver kneeling nearby. “What are you doing?”
The ox cart driver was an honest man. When he heard the constable’s question, he couldn’t answer a single word and knelt there trembling continuously.
So the constable shouted, “Don’t you see the officials conducting business? Hurry up and drive your ox cart away!”
Su Jin had always thought she had escaped with her life by sheer chance, but it turned out she had received someone’s undeserved kindness.
“This old soldier always felt guilty afterward. He had someone erase his military registration and set up an anonymous memorial tablet before your grandfather’s painting, then started a tea business. After a few years, he prospered. Feeling that somehow your grandfather was protecting him, he thought to find you, bring you back to Shu, and adopt you as his daughter. Who knew that after searching for several years, he finally found that ox cart driver from back then.
“The cart driver said that on the day Prime Minister Xie met with disaster, he actually also knew you were hiding in the haystack of his ox cart. He originally intended to report honestly, but you were a girl, and still so young—he really couldn’t bear it. Later, thinking that old soldier had been careless for a moment, he took his chance to carry you away. So he drove the cart day and night without rest, fearing pursuers would come, wanting to take you to someplace far, far away. But he was too exhausted. While driving the cart, he dozed off. When he woke again, the cart was lighter. He went back to search for you, but you were already gone.”
Su Jin looked at the testimony in her hands. After a long silence, she finally said, “I jumped off the ox cart and walked alone to Qizhou. Grandfather once said that if I encountered great disaster, I could seek refuge at the Su manor in Qizhou.”
Under the crushing weight of imperial power, merits and faults, rights and wrongs were all like floating clouds before the eyes.
Though he had helped him seize the empire, he knew his own fate of being disposed of once his usefulness ended.
So wise as Xie Xu was, on the day A’Yu was born, he had already secured a way out for her.
Zhu Nanxian watched as Su Jin’s knuckles turned white from gripping the testimony tightly. He raised his hand to cover hers in his palm and said softly, “Since you are Prime Minister Xie’s granddaughter, then my imperial father…” He paused, unable to speak the words that followed, and could only ask, “Your grandfather died an unjust death for no reason. Do you resent me?”
Su Jin’s eyelashes trembled. She glanced up at Zhu Nanxian, then lowered her eyelids again. After a moment, she shook her head. “Mountains and rivers are alluring, imperial power blinds the eyes. How can the events of those years be covered by a single word ‘resentment’? Moreover, His Majesty is His Majesty, and Prince is Prince. In A’Yu’s heart, Prince has always been different.”
In her heart was a river, with cold rain falling into it.
Hearing these words, Zhu Nanxian felt that this cold rain was also nourishing things silently. He asked again, “Then your entry into officialdom… was it to clear your grandfather’s injustice? I’ll help you, all right?”
But Su Jin smiled slightly. “In ancient times, Goujian of Yue destroyed Wu and ordered the death of his meritorious minister Wen Zhong. Emperor Wu established Han and executed Li Ling’s entire family. Historical records generally follow patterns. When I was young, I didn’t understand how Grandfather could accept life and death so calmly. I did once think of entering officialdom to clear his name, to restore justice for him. Later I gradually understood—the justice I seek is in history, in people’s hearts. Whether His Majesty’s or Prince’s decree of vindication would actually be of no help. It would be too late. No one would care, and it couldn’t bring back a life.”
Su Jin was silent for a moment, then continued, “After studying so hard, I ended up only confused. Compiling books at the Hanlin Academy, deciding cases in Songshan County, serving at the capital bureaus—I only felt powerless against the suffering around me. Many officials held positions without performing duties, unable to assist their lord above or benefit the people below. Until later… during the case of the scholars, Liu Yun told me that actually, I could go to the Censorate to become a censor.”
Distinguishing right from wrong, setting chaos right, remonstrating directly, keeping one’s heart steadfast.
She still remembered the deep prison to this day.
“Only then did I have my own path to walk, have lofty aspirations, thinking of the great Neo-Confucian’s words from Hengqu, wanting to try with my own strength.” (Note: “Establish a heart for heaven and earth, establish a mandate for the living people, continue the lost teachings of past sages, bring peace to all generations.”)
Though Zhu Nanxian had not read as many books as Su Jin, he had still heard the famous four sentences from “Hengqu Records”—establish a heart for heaven and earth, establish a mandate for the living people, continue the lost teachings of past sages, bring peace to all generations.
He said, “I know that your two years at the Censorate were when you were most fulfilled and happy. Once the current troubles pass,” he paused, “I’ll speak with Liu Yun and have you return to the Censorate to continue as a censor.”
But Su Jin shook her head. “No need. Prince has just taken control of the overall situation. There will still be many dangers ahead. The Ministry of Justice is also very good. I can do my utmost to make the laws throughout the realm clear and bright. Moreover… holding the power of a ministry at least means not being at others’ mercy. Staying by Prince’s side, I can better assist Prince.” She lowered her eyes and said softly, “Has Prince forgotten? We agreed then that no matter where Prince is, A’Yu would accompany Prince.”
The heart that had just been like mist over river waters was suddenly stirred into towering waves.
Before Zhu Nanxian himself had even reacted, he had already reached out to hook the back of Su Jin’s neck and bent down to kiss her.
Her lips were soft as flowers, carrying a clean freshness, like morning dew.
Going deeper, he reached the pistil. The tip of the pistil collided with him, trembling slightly, but didn’t retreat. Instead, it came forward to meet him.
This trembling motion of seeming retreat yet advancing stirred up a tempest in Zhu Nanxian’s heart, spreading through his limbs and body, making him feel that even holding the person in his arms this tightly was not enough.
He wanted even more.
His body seemed beyond his control. In that moment, he lifted Su Jin horizontally and placed her on the small daybed nearby.
The gardenia fragrance filling the garden could penetrate into the hall even through the tightly closed doors and windows. He leaned his face down, breathing heavily, his forehead pressed against hers, looking at the gaze in her eyes that was clear as rain yet burning as fire, hearing her call extremely softly, “Prince…”
Finally unable to restrain himself, he closed his eyes, reached his hand toward her collar, and once more closed his eyes and bent down.
However, at this moment, footsteps sounded outside the hall. In an instant, Eunuch You’s voice rang out beyond the door. “Reporting to Crown Prince, Minister Luo of the Ministry of Rites requests an audience. He says there’s an urgent matter to memorialize.”
Zhu Nanxian’s brow furrowed. But with flower fragrance filling his nose and soft jade in his arms, he truly couldn’t bear to let go. With one hand still embracing Su Jin, he freed his other hand to reach for the teapot and cups on the small table nearby, then swept his sleeve across. With a loud crash, the pot and cups all shattered on the ground.
The two people outside were so frightened they fell to their knees with a thud and immediately fell silent.
Finally, the entire world was quiet.
Su Jin’s arms came up, resting lightly on his shoulders. When his face moved toward her neck where the collar had been unfastened, she gently pushed him. “Prince, it might be about the Annan envoy.”
Zhu Nanxian’s movements paused. He couldn’t help but laugh softly and said in a hoarse voice, “You can still spare the attention to think about what Luo Songtang wants with me.”
But he truly hadn’t planned to take her today. Hearing Su Jin say this, he slowly released her, yet still pressed his face against hers, his forehead against hers, asking, “A’Yu, will you marry me?”
He paused slightly, then said, “Not as a consort, much less as empress.”
His mind was still in chaos. The rivers and seas from moments ago were still roiling through his organs. Not knowing if he had expressed himself clearly in his inarticulateness, he thought for a moment and said, “I don’t want to be this emperor either.”
Su Jin was stunned for a moment and asked, “If Prince is unwilling to ascend the throne, will you yield the position to Seventeen?”
Zhu Nanxian smiled slightly, pulling her to sit up and drawing her into his embrace. “I’ve already sent people to find Lin’er. I always feel he’s still there, still alive. Otherwise, with Zhu Zhaowei’s capabilities, how could he not have found a deceased person for over half a year?” He reached out to gently and slowly arrange her disheveled hair. “I’ve thought it through. I must find him and bring him back. He is Imperial Brother’s son. This imperial throne should be his. As long as he returns, I can marry—”
“Prince.” At this moment, three knocks came from outside again. It was still Eunuch You’s voice. “Lord Liu of the Censorate and Minister Gong of the Ministry of War have arrived.”