The prison cart left Yingtian and headed straight south. Being the dead of winter, progress was slow. When the sky darkened, they would stop at relay stations, and the next day they would wait until the sun was fully up before setting off again.
They encountered wind and snow along the way and stopped for seven days in the Ningguo area. Once they entered Huizhou territory, the officials removed Su Jin’s shackles. The prison cart was also replaced with a horse carriage, and at night, they even presented her with several sets of clean clothes.
Su Jin didn’t ask the reason. She accepted the clothes and directly ordered someone to fetch water for bathing.
People were truly strange. Half a month ago, she had been single-mindedly seeking death, feeling she could never get past this hurdle in her lifetime. Since leaving the palace, realizing this life had been exchanged by Zhu Nanxian, she had become extraordinarily careful with herself. Every day she took medicine on schedule, rested, and ate. Soon her cold was cured, and even the injuries on her hands and feet gradually improved.
It was just that her mind still wasn’t quite clear. Sitting in the prison cart, looking at the brilliant daylight, in a trance she thought it was when she was fourteen or fifteen, hiding in a rumbling ox cart, or thought it was when she was sixteen or seventeen, crawling out from a pile of corpses, with Chao Qing carrying her onto a horse cart, taking her away from the capital.
The next day she slept until the sun was high in the sky. Someone came knocking at the door, addressing her as “Young Master Su.”
Su Jin pulled open the door. The officials had somehow withdrawn. The person before her had an unfamiliar face. He bowed and said: “This humble one is surnamed Li, single character Qiong. I will be escorting Young Master to Jiangxi next. Breakfast has been prepared. Please come down to eat.”
Huizhou was at the junction between south and north. Near the New Year, the relay station was full of resting merchants. Though Li Qiong had chosen a quiet spot, he still couldn’t avoid the clamor and noise.
While serving food to Su Jin, Li Qiong said: “After this humble one escorts Young Master to Jiangxi, I won’t follow further. That person above gave orders early on, saying someone in Jiangxi will receive Young Master. I just need to hand over the important items for Young Master to keep personally.”
The so-called important items were nothing more than her conviction documents, travel permits, household registration, and identification tags.
Su Jin had originally wanted to ask who the person receiving her was, but thinking of the “person above” Li Qiong mentioned, she gave up. She knew that person—he did things without a single leak. What he didn’t want her to know, she couldn’t get a single word about.
Breakfast was a bowl of clear congee and two steamed buns. Su Jin had only eaten half when the relay station became noisy again. Several officials came in to rest, and the station master busily made arrangements.
Li Qiong glanced at the patterns on their robes. The highest rank was only seventh grade. Thinking they probably hadn’t seen Su Jin before, he didn’t avoid them and just continued eating.
“Oh my, these honored officials!” The station master was quite hospitable. Upon seeing them, he greeted warmly: “Didn’t you gentlemen just complete your duty reports and leave the capital? How is it that you’ve encountered some matter—which lord has summoned you back to the capital?”
“What else could it be?” A senior clerk replied, cupping his hands toward heaven. “His Majesty is ascending the throne. The localities must go to the capital to pay court respects. Each prefecture must send one or two people. We’re rushing back to the capital to have an audience with His Majesty.”
So these were local officials who had returned to the capital in autumn to complete their duty reports, but were now returning midway due to Zhu Yushen’s ascension.
“This is such a tremendously good thing!” The station master poured tea for them. “Ordinary people couldn’t hope to see the Son of Heaven once in a lifetime. You honored officials are truly blessed!”
The senior clerk laughed: “You think the Son of Heaven can be seen so easily? During court respects, His Majesty sits in Fengtian Hall. People like us—” he raised his hand and pointed at himself, “can only kneel outside the Meridian Gate. You know the Meridian Gate? Walking inward there’s still Fengtian Gate. Past Fengtian Gate is the stone platform, and then comes Fengtian Hall. If you crane your neck and look up, you’d be lucky to see a gate tower.”
At another table were also officials returning to the capital midway. Hearing these words, one chimed in: “Exactly right. Forget His Majesty—just speaking of the lords in court,” he also cupped his hands toward heaven, “this unworthy one went to the capital early last time to submit the yellow registers to the Ministry of Revenue. I was only fortunate enough to see Lord Shen once, which I already consider a blessing cultivated over three lifetimes.”
“The Lord Shen you mention—is that Lord Shen Xi who was elevated to first-rank Duke Shenguo?”
“In today’s court and countryside, which other Lord Shen has a reputation louder than this one?” the official answered. “Though I only glimpsed him once, he truly filled the entire room with radiance.” He added, “However, that was when Lord Su had just returned from his mission to An’nan. At the time I heard people from the Ministry of Revenue say that in the Cabinet, not only was Lord Shen’s bearing stunning, but Lord Liu and Lord Su were also first-rate people of jade-like character. Unfortunately…”
The words after “unfortunately” weren’t spoken. In the official relay station, there were many officials resting. The matter of a dignified first-rank Grand Secretary and Minister of Justice being exiled for covering up a merchant case had long spread throughout court and localities.
However, one who wasn’t afraid of taboos sighed: “If you ask me, Lord Su was wronged too. These past two years, going on missions to An’nan, pacifying southern turmoil—that should count as great merit. The thread of the merchant case was found by him. Later when the investigation traced to his own people, covering it up a bit was human nature. It’s not like he said the crime wouldn’t be punished. Who knew he’d be implicated and actually exiled? A few years ago with the Shaanxi embezzlement case, Minister Qian from the Ministry of Revenue genuinely committed crimes, and even he only got exile.”
“Just because you say Lord Su was wronged means he was wronged?” someone scoffed.
“Isn’t that so? Back when Shanxi was building the traveling palace, the Third Prince squeezed the people’s livelihood. If Lord Su hadn’t risked his life to impeach him, those common people would still be in deep suffering today. How could someone of such character commit grave crimes?”
The person who scoffed said: “Court cases, especially those involving such high officials—the twists and turns inside are unclear. Human lives are cheap. What’s character worth? But you’re right about one thing. For Lord Su’s matter, exile isn’t warranted. If you ask me, there are two possibilities: First, Lord Su is genuinely innocent, most likely offended someone and was wrongly accused. Second, Lord Su’s true crimes are far more serious than the so-called ‘covering up and concealing’—grave enough for execution and extermination of nine generations, but it was covered over. Otherwise, why would they pass no other judgment but exile? Death, exile, penal servitude, whipping, beating—only exile can send someone far, far away.”
The crowd listening to him speak felt like they were hearing heavenly texts. Pondering more carefully, what did “Lord Su offended someone” mean? For a first-rank Grand Secretary like Lord Su, there weren’t many under heaven who dared offend her. Those she could offend, aside from the Regent, there was only the current Yongji Emperor.
For a time, no one in the relay station dared respond, fearing that if they spoke carelessly, it would be the grave crime of disrespecting superiors.
After a moment, someone redirected the topic back to Shen Xi: “Since this gentleman has seen Lord Shen, have you heard about recent events at the Shen residence?”
The capital’s Shen residence was currently the most extraordinary estate under heaven. Every single matter was significant. Who knew which one he was referring to?
Someone tentatively asked: “Could it be Lord Shen being elevated to Duke?”
“Who doesn’t know that?” another person interrupted. “I guess it’s from five days ago at His Majesty’s enthronement ceremony, when the Shen clan was enfeoffed as Empress, right?”
That person nodded in agreement: “Close enough. However, at the enthronement ceremony, when the Shen clan was enfeoffed as Empress, the Shen clan member wasn’t present. Did you all know that?”
The relay station fell quiet. Those who knew remained silent. Those who didn’t know looked at each other in bewilderment.
“Not only was the Shen clan member absent, but not a single person from the capital’s Shen residence attended.” The original senior clerk said, “I heard about this. The palace doesn’t seem to want to hide the matter either. Thinking about it, it’s no wonder—Duke Shenguo is still on the road back to the capital. Her Majesty the Empress was reportedly ill. Old Lord Shen was exiled before, right? They said his health couldn’t take it, he couldn’t bear the cold, so before autumn even arrived, Lord Shen sent him south to convalesce.”
“That Old Lord Shen is convalescing is true, and Duke Shenguo being en route back to the capital is also true. But regarding Her Majesty the Empress—” the person said, lowering his voice somewhat, “I heard it’s not that she fell ill, but that she refused to accept the Empress title and moved alone to live at the Imperial Mausoleum.”
“Moved to the Imperial Mausoleum—what does this mean?” everyone exclaimed in shock, then asked, “How would you know about imperial family matters?”
“This unworthy one has an old friend currently serving in the Loyal and Filial Guard.” The Loyal and Filial Guard—that is, the imperial guard protecting the Imperial Mausoleum. “He told me that Her Majesty the Empress grew up together with the Jin’an Emperor, their relationship like siblings. Now that the Jin’an Emperor has passed away not even a month ago, though the imperial family requested the former Twelfth Prince, the heir of Prince Zhennan, to observe mourning for him, the relationship is ultimately distant and the status somewhat low. The Jin’an Emperor had no empress or consorts, no sons or daughters. Her Majesty the Empress, mindful that his departure was lonely, is personally guarding his tomb. She also said she would guard for more than half a year, and after the grand funeral, would guard another forty-nine days.”
Everyone was dumbstruck.
The Empress’s status was exalted, but guarding the tomb for a previous emperor—no matter how you looked at it, it wasn’t quite appropriate. However, this was the imperial family’s private matter. They dared not comment rashly. One county magistrate among them reminded: “This gentleman, you can tell us about this matter, but once you reach the capital, don’t mention it again. Be careful of bringing disaster upon yourself.”
Who knew that person would laugh and bow with cupped hands toward heaven: “To be honest, this humble one comes from military registration. I once served as a soldier in the Northwest. In my life, I most respect the Jin’an Emperor—leading the campaign personally, defending the Northwest, a true heroic figure. Unfortunately, his fortune was shallow; he died young in his prime. Therefore, I’m not going to pay court respects. I’m resigning from office. When I return to my hometown in the future, I will also emulate Her Majesty the Empress and observe mourning for the Jin’an Emperor for three years.”
Hearing this, Su Jin’s throat tightened. She felt even the clear congee was difficult to swallow. After a long while, she set down her chopsticks and said: “Let’s go.”
Li Qiong nodded and called the station master to bring the horse carriage.
Su Jin rose and followed Li Qiong out of the relay station. As she passed the crowd, the group of officials all fell silent, their gazes involuntarily drawn to the bearing of the person before them. They originally wanted to approach and make conversation, but seeing her completely unapproachable expression, they all gave up.
Watching her board the horse carriage and travel toward the vast wilderness, they finally collected their thoughts and continued the earlier conversation: “Isn’t Her Majesty the Empress afraid of angering His Majesty by doing this?”
“That’s why some people speculate that His Majesty and Her Majesty already had a rift, and elevating Lord Shen to Duke was intended to destroy him with praise.” After all, he was the number one important minister of the Jin’an court.
That person spoke and sighed: “But it’s also unclear. I heard Lord Shen will return to the palace in the next day or two. We’ll see what His Majesty intends.”
Perhaps it was because when Su Jin left, her air of detachment and solitude lingered for so long that it dampened everyone’s enthusiasm for conversation. After a few more words, each became quiet, hastily finished their tea and meal, climbed onto horse carriages, and went their separate ways.
At the suburban relay station, in the vast wilderness, some headed south, some north, some departing, some returning. Or even more so—some didn’t know where they were going, some rushed along the entire way but not toward home. Lying in horse carriages, bent over horses’ backs, traveling day and night for nearly a month, having been heartbroken and regretful, worried and sorrowful, now calming down, seeking only an answer.
The day Shen Xi returned to the capital was New Year’s Eve. All courts and offices had stopped work. Moreover, due to the Jin’an Emperor’s recent passing, though the Yongji Emperor had already ascended, the palace couldn’t hold grand banquets and celebrations. After the court ministers accompanied Zhu Yushen in making sacrifices to heaven, they should have each returned to their residences, but hearing that Duke Shenguo would return to the palace today, they properly stayed without a single one leaving.
Shen Xi’s current titles: Minister of Revenue, first-rank Grand Secretary of the Cabinet, first-rank Duke, and properly the current National Uncle.
Many in court said that such birth circumstances were truly enviable beyond envy—even the imperial family had successions, but only the Shen residence enjoyed honor and prosperity year after year without decline.
Wasn’t that so?
Previously, one elder sister was Crown Princess. Later, the Jin’an Emperor was like a blood brother to him. Now with another dynastic change, another elder sister had become Empress.
The left and right gates of Chengtian Gate in the palace stood wide open. Outside the gate, Shen Xi stood alone on horseback, his brows clear and cold as frost and snow.
The ministers welcoming him were led by Luo Songtang from the Ministry of Rites, along with Shu Wenlan and Zou Liren.
The three, with Luo Songtang at the forefront, came forward and led the ministers in bowing: “We subordinates congratulate Lord Shen on his elevation to first-rank Duke Shenguo.”
Shen Xi dismounted without a word, walked to stand before Luo Songtang, and returned a bow to this elderly minister: “Lord Luo.”
Then he shifted his gaze to Shu Wenlan, glanced at the ducal court robes, jade clasps, and crown on the tray in his hands, then suddenly swept his hand and knocked them over.
The robes scattered on the ground. The jade clasps fell, emitting a clear, crisp sound as they split in two.
Shen Xi’s peach blossom eyes held frost: “Where is Zhu Yushen? This official demands to see him.”