The contrast between the desolation of Jinyang and the clamor of the capital was staggering. Hua Zhi stood at the prow of the ship, gazing at the bustle before her for a long while without moving.
She could not help but draw comparisons in her mind — Jinyang against the capital, the revelry here against the devastation there, the peace and contentment of the people in the capital against the uncertainty of Yanxi’s life or death. The moment she thought of Yanxi locked in a desperate struggle somewhere, she could not stop herself from worrying — even resenting.
There were moments she wished she could bury the palace in a ring of black powder and blast the whole lot of them to the heavens.
Chen Qing waited a moment, received no instructions, and quietly stepped forward. “First Young Miss, the wind on the ship is strong. If you stay out too long, I fear you will take a chill—”
Hua Zhi closed her eyes, forced down the surging, violent storm of feelings, turned around, and extended Yanxi’s official seal toward him. “Take this. Bring the silver, Magistrate Zhu, and Xu Ze into the palace, and give His Majesty a full account of everything that happened in Jinyang. Remember — the more detailed, the better. Place all the credit for this squarely on Yanxi’s name. Give Zhao Jingyu no opening whatsoever. Do you understand?”
“But you—”
“His Majesty will likely not wish for my name to carry any credit in this matter. Placing it on Yanxi amounts to the same thing. Also — the families of Magistrate Zhu and Xu Ze must be properly settled, as well as the matter of their official standing.” Hua Zhi looked toward the docks again. “I have already sent word for Xiao Liu to meet you outside the palace walls. Let him handle it directly.”
“Understood.”
Hua Zhi was about to call Bao Xia to step off the ship when she turned and found Xu Ze standing there — she could not say when he had come over. He stood with something clearly on his mind, but hesitated to speak.
Of course. She had summoned him without explaining why. No wonder he felt unsettled.
She walked over, and Hua Zhi gave a slight bow. “The fault is mine. There is no need for Archivist Xu to overthink it. I brought you to the capital to gain a clearer understanding of Jinyang’s situation over these years — through your own account. After all, no one knows it better than you.”
As someone who had been sent to Jinyang earlier than even Yuan Shifang, and had served as a former associate administrator, Xu Ze was indeed the most fitting person for this task. And he… wanted to do this. His ideals, his ambitions, the finest years of his life — all of it had been buried in that records office. He, too, wished the Emperor to know that he existed.
Hua Zhi smiled, then glanced toward the other side of the ship where Magistrate Zhu and his daughter stood. “If Magistrate Zhu trusts me, why not let your daughter come with me first? You may not have time to look after her in what lies ahead.”
“There is no one I would trust over First Young Miss.” Magistrate Zhu gave his daughter a light push. He had evidently spoken to her beforehand — Zhu Fang made no fuss, and with her bundle in hand and her eyes lowered, she quietly took her place behind Hua Zhi.
Hua Zhi nodded at them both and was the first to step off the ship. A carriage was already waiting — and the one standing beside it was, unexpectedly, Xiao Shuang.
“This one greets First Young Miss.”
“No need for formalities. What brings you here?”
Xiao Shuang glanced at the carriage. “Master calculated that you would be returning within these two days, and has been waiting since early this morning.”
Hua Zhi looked at the carriage and felt her heart give a sudden jolt. Before she could act, the curtain was already lifted from within — Xiao Liu jumped down from the carriage and bowed with a flourish. “Shifu, you’ve finally come back.”
Hua Zhi jabbed a finger at his forehead. “This idle? What are you doing here? Have you forgotten what I told you about a man of principle not standing beneath a crumbling wall?”
Xiao Liu’s eyes danced with delight. He led her toward the carriage and said, “I reckoned you would definitely not want to deal with that Zhao Jingyu, and would come back the moment he showed up — sure enough, I hadn’t even waited a full hour before you arrived.”
She cast him a look, but in the end took his arm and stepped into the carriage. Remembering Zhu Fang, she turned back to call out, “Xiao Shuang, find a carriage to take Miss Zhu to the Hua residence.”
“Yes.”
Zhu Fang’s eyes drifted quietly to the young man before her. Born into a family like her own, she had learned much — whether by intention or circumstance — and she could tell at a glance that though his clothing was modest in color, it was unmistakably the standard formal attire of an imperial prince. So Hua Zhi’s position was actually… a prince’s teacher?
With that realization, the last trace of resistance in Zhu Fang’s heart quietly dissolved. If that was truly her standing, then she had earned her respect.
The carriage slowly pulled away from the docks. To avoid any impropriety, the curtain was left up, and Xiao Liu sat close to the door — deliberately careful, giving no one the leverage to cast aspersions.
Inside the carriage, a thin blanket and a warm hand warmer had been thoughtfully provided. Hua Zhi, chilled to the bone from the wind on the ship, immediately bundled herself up tightly, clutching the hand warmer to warm herself. “Jinyang’s administrator, Zhao Jingyu — how was he appointed?”
Turning to the matter at hand, the smile on Xiao Liu’s face gradually faded. He lowered his voice. “Imperial Father personally named him.”
“No background to it at all?”
“None. He declared it at the grand morning court, bestowing the administrator’s seal at the same time. Many ministers immediately urged Imperial Father to rescind the order, but he paid them no heed — and since that day to this, he has not made a public appearance. I have not seen him either.”
“Has he not held court? Have the memorials received any replies?”
Xiao Liu shook his head. “All memorials submitted have gone without reply.”
Hua Zhi turned the hand warmer over and over in her palms and began to think it through. The Emperor had never been one of great accomplishment, nor could he be called an enlightened ruler — yet by nature he had never been a man who acted purely on his own will. Otherwise, despite his ardent desire to open the canal, he would not have shelved the matter in the face of so many obstacles. And yet in this matter, he had been so heedless of those below him. Why?
What had the Fourth Prince done to make him tip so completely to that side — to the point of abandoning even the most essential balance? Or was it… that the problem lay with Yuepin?
No. At this rate, they were far too reactive.
Hua Zhi straightened slightly. “When Chen Qing enters the palace shortly to present the silver, you must use that opportunity to get the standing of Magistrate Zhu and the others formally acknowledged by the Emperor. His Majesty is in good spirits over the silver — there is a good chance this matter can be secured.”
Xiao Liu had by now developed the habit of thinking several steps ahead. “The existence of these people… Imperial Father would likely find it more convenient to simply have them eliminated—”
“Then it is a matter of how you frame it. At first glance, these people may seem of little use — yet if they can step out of the shadows, if they are no longer at the mercy of the Chao Li people, then helping them is the greatest service to Da Qing. If they remain in hiding, the moment the two nations go to war, they become our gravest vulnerability. Better to gain one more friend than to make one more enemy. You must make Imperial Father see this.”
Xiao Liu nodded, turning the thought over carefully.
Hua Zhi saw his expression and pressed the logic further to make it clearer. “Take Magistrate Zhu. If we treat him as a Chao Li tribesman, he will treat us as enemies — and then how could we ever have obtained a list of names from him? And who knows how many more names that list might lead to? Had Magistrate Zhu not told me that Pengkou was a trap, and that the silver was truly hidden in Songzhu, who could have known what price the Office of Seven Lodges would have paid — or whether Yanxi could have walked away unscathed.”
Hua Zhi clenched her back teeth and buried her worry deep in her chest. “They have been calculated against since birth, coerced throughout their lives, and in some cases their maternal kin are nearly gone. If someone reached out a hand to pull them from the abyss, would they truly be willing to serve the Chao Li tribe? Even setting aside all these grand matters of right and wrong — Xiao Liu, let me ask you something more personal: do you feel any sympathy for them?”