Leaving the Meng residence, the palace gates had already been locked. Han Qing didn’t go to the Night Watch Bureau but returned to his private residence outside the palace. The steward who opened the door respectfully handed out a paper umbrella.

“Has elder sister gone to bed?”

Han Qing took the umbrella and asked as he headed into the courtyard.

“The great lady said she would wait for younger brother to return home…” The steward glanced carefully at Han Qing.

Han Qing said nothing and didn’t let him follow. Under the covered corridor, he encountered a maidservant carrying a medicine bowl, emerging from the room with a worried expression.

“Sir.”

Seeing Han Qing, the maidservant quickly bowed.

“Give it to me.”

Han Qing saw the dark medicinal liquid with faint steam rising from the bowl. He set aside his umbrella and took the medicine bowl.

“A’Qing? Has A’Qing come back?”

A woman’s voice came from within the room, carrying some joy. Han Qing quickly responded, “Elder sister, it’s me.”

He carried the medicine bowl inside and saw the woman turn around from the dressing table. Her weathered face bore a smile as she stood and quickly walked up to him. “A’Qing, where did you go?”

“I went out to work.”

Han Qing said with a smile.

Hearing this, the woman’s delicate brows furrowed. She stepped forward and gripped his hand, rather anxiously. “Didn’t I tell you? Don’t go out to work. You love reading. I’m about to get married soon. Once I marry into their family, you’ll have money for your studies!”

When conducting business outside, Han Qing rarely wore eunuch robes. This also made it convenient for him to conceal his physical deficiency from his elder sister when he returned to his private residence.

But every time he heard his sister recite these words, his heart felt difficult to bear. The smile on his face now was also somewhat forced. Suppressing his emotions, he said, “Elder sister, I… I’m not studying anymore.”

“Why suddenly stop studying? Didn’t you say you wanted to make something of yourself? Didn’t you say you wanted me to be a presented scholar’s elder sister?” The woman gripped his hand tightly.

“Elder sister, don’t marry, all right?”

Han Qing didn’t answer her but only asked.

“Why? I think their family is quite good. Most importantly, if I go there, you can also study with peace of mind, and we’ll have money for mother’s medicine…”

The woman shook her head, very resolute. “Listen to me. You don’t need to worry about family matters. Even if I marry into their family, I’m still part of our family. You’re my younger brother—I’ll definitely take care of you.”

“They’re not good…”

Han Qing’s throat was dry. The rim of the porcelain bowl burned his palm with sweat. “Elder sister, they won’t treat you well.”

If they were good, she wouldn’t have been beaten and tormented.

If they were good, he wouldn’t have gone years without seeing his sister, and in desperation, entered the palace as a servant to exchange money for mother’s treatment.

If they were good… she wouldn’t have become what she was now.

“What are you saying?”

The woman looked at him in confusion.

Han Qing collected himself and scooped up a spoonful of medicine. “Elder sister, you caught a chill and should take medicine.”

“I caught a chill?”

The woman murmured, “This medicine… how much does it cost?”

“Elder sister, rest assured. This medicine was bought with silver I earned from working outside. I didn’t steal it or rob anyone. But if elder sister doesn’t drink it, it will be wasted.”

Hearing this, the woman indeed didn’t dare waste it. “Then I’ll drink it.”

She didn’t want him to feed her spoonful by spoonful. She took the bowl herself and drank it down like water. Han Qing reminded her from the side to be careful of the heat when he heard the steward’s cautious voice from outside: “Young master, someone has come.”

Soon, someone stepped onto the platform. He wore neat black robes, a blade at his waist, bringing with him moisture from the rain. Outside he called, “Commander.”

The porcelain bowl shattered on the ground with a crash.

Han Qing turned back to face his sister’s bloodless, pale countenance. She began trembling and shrieked sharply, “A’Qing! The person who killed me has come! I’m going to die!”

“Elder sister…”

Han Qing immediately tried to step forward to comfort her, but the woman pushed him away. Her knees buckled as she knelt down and kowtowed toward the young man outside the door. “Sir, this slave was wrong! This slave didn’t dare to kill her husband! He beat me! I couldn’t bear it anymore. Don’t kill me…”

Zhou Ting immediately retreated to the other side of the covered corridor, letting the door block his form so the woman could no longer see him.

Han Qing crouched down and supported the out-of-control, crazed woman, gently patting her back. “Elder sister, no one wants to kill you. Don’t you remember? His Majesty pardoned you…”

“…Is that so?” The woman’s expression was vacant.

“Yes.”

Han Qing looked at the several strands of frost-white hair at her temples. Clearly, she was only just forty years old. “Elder sister, now no one can harm you anymore.”

Autumn rain fell hazily, beating against the window lattice.

Han Qing suddenly recalled what Minister Meng had said at the Meng residence just now.

The ruler’s momentary pleasure or anger could change established law.

When the law was unjust, it was like his sister—enduring years of insult and beatings from her husband’s family. Her husband’s family had no punishable crime. When she could endure no more and injured her husband in anger, though the husband didn’t die, she faced capital punishment.

But with one word from His Majesty, his sister was pardoned without guilt.

When the law was just, it was like National Uncle Wu Jikang—engaging in private fraud, plotting to take the life of a winter examination candidate. He had his crime.

But if His Majesty had the heart to protect him, it would leave Ni Su with no avenue for appeal, able only to gamble with her life and receive punishment at the Petition Court to cry out her grievance.

Indeed—the ruler was above the law.

“What matter?”

After comforting his sister, Han Qing walked out of the room and ordered the maidservant to attend to her sleep before asking Zhou Ting.

“Wu Jikang’s death sentence has been determined.”

“Has the execution date been set?”

Han Qing wasn’t surprised. Now that His Majesty’s purge of the two courts was beginning to conclude, Wu Jikang’s matter could not be delayed into next year.

“It’s set for the fifteenth of this month.”

Zhou Ting said.

Han Qing made a sound of acknowledgment. After thinking, he said, “Have you gone to see Ni Su?”

“I went once after she received punishment at the Drum Court. Later the Night Watch Bureau was busy, so I couldn’t get away.”

The matters with the two courts had kept him busy until now. Zhou Ting hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a very long time.

“For a woman to receive more than ten strokes and still forcibly endure through it—even this servant must sigh at her resolute loyalty.” Han Qing looked up at the rain filling the courtyard. “The new year is approaching too. This servant has some good things here. Have someone gather some items, and when you go to visit her, deliver them on this servant’s behalf as well.”

Zhou Ting started. In these years at the Night Watch Bureau, he had never seen this commander show the slightest pity or admiration for anyone. But thinking of that woman in the room, he felt a measure of understanding in his heart.

Perhaps similar circumstances ultimately caused him to relate to others through his own experience.

“Yes.”

Zhou Ting nodded in agreement.

——

On the fifteenth day of the twelfth month in the nineteenth year of Zhengyuan, National Uncle Wu Jikang was executed by beheading at the Vegetable Market in Yun Jing.

It was the depths of severe winter. All things were withered and bleak.

Many onlookers surrounded the execution platform. Wu Jikang wore only thin undergarments, his legs already so weak he couldn’t walk. He could only be carried up by soldiers.

As soon as Wu Jikang saw the execution platform, he trembled all over in fright. He looked down from the platform. Among the sea of bobbing heads, his ears were filled with curses from those unfamiliar faces.

The supervising official sat upright at his desk, stroking his beard and looking up at the sky, calculating the time in his heart. He paid no attention to whether the common people below were throwing rotten vegetable leaves onto the platform.

Ni Su still couldn’t walk well. Supported by Cai Chunxu, she walked to the base of the platform. She saw that He Zhongping and the others had also come. Across some people, they bowed to Ni Su one by one.

Ni Su bowed in return.

Someone in the crowd recognized her as the young Miss Ni who had received punishment at the Drum Court that day to seek justice for her brother. Speaking among themselves, they cleared a wide path for her.

At this moment, Wu Jikang on the platform happened to see her standing below. Just like that day outside the Night Watch Bureau gate, she wore mourning clothes, her form emaciated, yet those eyes were clear and bright with spirit.

At that time he had sat on a sedan chair surrounded by attendants, looking down from above.

Today he still looked down from above, but this height was the execution platform about to sever his head… Just this thought, and Wu Jikang couldn’t bear it.

The supervising official waved his hand, and the executioner pressed him onto the execution block. He struggled, raising his head to look at the sharp, heavy execution blade above. He screamed in terror, “Your Majesty, save me! Sister, save me! I don’t want to die!”

But today, beneath the execution platform, there were no household servants who used to surround him, no stern father, and no beloved consort sister in the deep palace who doted on him to the extreme.

There were only those scholars watching him coldly, those common people pointing and gesturing at him, and that… Ni Qinglan’s younger sister.

Wu Jikang was freezing. He had never felt as helpless and terrified as today. He cried out “Your Majesty,” “Sister,” unable to break free from the ropes binding his body no matter what.

“The hour has come.”

The supervising official’s voice fell with finality.

The winter sun had little warmth, leaving only harsh light. Wu Jikang shouted incoherently, tears and mucus flowing together. He saw that young woman standing at the base of the platform.

A trace of a smile floated across her pale, thin face.

Wu Jikang was stabbed even more frenzied by her smile. His pupils constricted as he both cried and laughed.

The supervising official raised his hand. The bailiffs standing on both sides of the platform began releasing the ropes holding the execution blade above. Ni Su watched Wu Jikang pressed down firmly below. Amid the din of voices, the execution blade above suddenly plummeted, and her view was suddenly blocked by a palm.

The sound of the blade cutting through flesh and blood was muffled. Wu Jikang’s crying stopped abruptly.

“Miss Ni, it’s better not to look.”

A young man’s low voice came. Ni Su turned her face and met Zhou Ting’s eyes.

Amid the surrounding noise, Xu Hexue at Ni Su’s side gazed at his own palm, faint and somewhat translucent in the sunlight. His knuckles curled and clenched. He lowered his eyelids and silently withdrew his hand.

But in the next instant, he suddenly felt something. As he spread his palm, a beast pearl appeared out of nowhere, flashing faint light.

It was the glimmer of soul fire.

Blood splattered across the execution platform. Ni Su pushed away Zhou Ting’s hand and immediately saw the head amid the blood and filth that the bailiffs had not yet collected.

Eyes wide open, frozen in the extreme terror of his final moment in life.

She whipped around and bent over to dry heave.

Tears streamed down from her eyelids like beads off a broken string. Ni Su tightly clutched her own dress. After a long while, she looked again at that head, forcing herself to overcome her fear and remember the wretched state of this murderer who had taken her elder brother’s life.

“Brother Jiming, rest in peace!”

He Zhongping shouted through choked sobs.

The other scholars shouted along with him. Even the common people present were moved by them and called out the name “Ni Qinglan,” asking him to rest in peace.

The cold wind howled, blowing until Ni Su’s ears felt somewhat numb. With tear-filled eyes, she looked at that blood-stained execution platform, then looked one by one at those people calling out her elder brother’s name.

Elder brother, do you see?

If possible, I hope that in your next life you can be born into a better world—undisturbed by worldly matters, unforced by paternal commands, living for the true aspirations in your heart.

Your younger sister, Ni Su, can only accompany you this far.