◎The Start of the Month◎

When Peng Yue received the Ministry’s summons, he swept an entire tea set off his table with one motion. “This is the fine work you’ve all done for me!”

The black-clad guard kneeling at his feet flinched, stammering out a reply: “M-my lord, that night we truly did follow the Ministry’s men to investigate—the coroner said the deceased’s clothing, age, and build all matched… matched Master Yan’s exactly…”

“And you didn’t think to investigate any further, you useless wretch!” Peng Yue kicked him over, snarling, “You didn’t even notice when someone swapped the corpse!”

He forced himself to rein in his fury and sat back down. “How are things at the Fragrant Heart Pavilion?”

The guard could only steel himself and answer. “The big boss on North Street got hold of the deed to the riverside land and won’t let our men through… You told us beforehand not to make any noise about it, especially after Fourth Brother got caught last time—we haven’t dared act rashly. We never expected Master Yan would suddenly come back from the dead…”

Peng Yue’s face darkened as he rose to his feet, giving a cold snort. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a gentle, refined voice cut in from beside him: “There’s no need to rush, my lord.”

The guard, still prostrate, glanced up.

The plainly dressed young gentleman who had been sitting beside Peng Yue set down his teacup without hurry. He was not particularly striking in appearance, dressed simply, with a pair of narrow, thin eyes that hinted at deep, calculating thoughts.

The guard recognized him—the eldest legitimate son of the Ren family, Ren Shiming.

Speaking of the Ren family—it was truly a story worth a sigh or two.

Ren Shiming’s grandfather had risen through the imperial examinations and enjoyed considerable glory in his time, but by his father’s generation, the family had declined somewhat, holding only an idle post in the Ministry of Rites. When Zhou Tan had come to seek refuge with his younger brother and gone on to place first in all three examinations, it should have marked a revival for the Ren family. But who could have known Zhou Tan would prove so ungrateful and heartless—the moment Ren Shiming’s father was implicated in trouble, Zhou Tan severed all ties with the entire Ren family.

Though the Ren family had scraped together loans to keep the family head from being exiled, his official post was gone, and by then they were little better than commoners. Fortunately, Zhou Tan’s younger brother had made quite a name for himself in the military and had been entered into the Ren family register, which kept the family from utter ruin.

But Ren Shiming, once the celebrated eldest legitimate son of the Ren family among scholars and students, had since vanished from the academic circles—only now to be seeking his fortune under Peng Yue.

Ren Shiming glanced coolly down at the guard on the floor. The guard understood the look and scrambled out of the room, half crawling.

“What do you think, Yuechu?” Peng Yue slapped the Ministry’s summons down on the table. “In your view, is your cousin doing this deliberately, to target me?”

“Choose your words carefully, my lord—Yuechu has no elder cousin,” Ren Shiming answered with a smile. “I’ve heard that when Zhou Tan served at the Court of Judicial Review, the two of you were already at odds. If this is his doing, it would make sense.”

“And if he’s set a trap to ruin me, how do I get out of it?” Peng Yue snorted coldly. “The Ministry has already opened a public trial. If I don’t show up now, tomorrow the Censorate’s desk will be piled high with impeachments. If this reaches the Emperor’s ears, there’ll be no clean way out.”

Ren Shiming tapped his folding fan thoughtfully. “Might my lord tell me again, exactly how you first came to know that Master Yan?”

Peng Yue rubbed his forehead, somewhat impatient as he recalled. “That fellow surnamed Yan—I met him two years ago while I was handling business down at the docks. Not a capital native. I remember he had an uncanny skill at fortune-telling, and he came to me with some business proposal. I saw he could be useful, so I kept him at my side as an advisor. Last year, as he wished, I arranged an idle post for him at the Court of Judicial Review—raised him up from the merchant registry into officialdom. Who would have thought the ungrateful wretch would turn on me like this…”

As he rambled on, Ren Shiming murmured, half to himself, “Two years ago…”

He tapped his fan three times against his palm, and then, as if suddenly recalling something, a faint, knowing amusement crept into his eyes. “Two years ago, indeed.”

He rose abruptly and bowed to Peng Yue. “My lord, simply go on to the Ministry’s front courtyard. Whatever they ask, answer nothing. This humble one has a way to resolve this.”

Peng Yue asked, suspicious, “Are you certain of this?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet myself. If I’ve guessed wrong, I will pass word on your behalf to Grand Chancellor Fu, and ask him to lend his aid,” Ren Shiming said with a smile.

Peng Yue knew perfectly well that Ren Shiming and Zhou Tan were bitter enemies, though in truth he himself couldn’t be certain whether this was Zhou Tan’s doing. But a few days ago, after Gu Xianghui’s fatal fall, when he had gone under cover of night to call on Fu Qingnian, the man had immediately concluded it was Zhou Tan’s scheme and told him to handle the matter properly.

Peng Yue, for his part, did not truly believe a young scholar-official like Zhou Tan could plot with such depth and cunning. But given how thoroughly unexpected today’s events had been, caution seemed wise all the same.

With this thought, he reached out and clapped Ren Shiming on the shoulder, his smile somewhere between genuine and mocking. “If you handle this well, both Grand Chancellor Fu and I will reward you.”

Ren Shiming cupped his hands and bowed, neither servile nor arrogant. “My lord may rest assured.”

The sun had just passed noon, still viciously hot. The Ministry’s public trial was held in the front courtyard, open to the sky so that everyone could hear the proceedings. Qu You, sweltering, had rolled up her sleeves. When she glanced sideways, she noticed that although Zhou Tan sat perfectly upright before his table, his forehead too was covered in sweat.

Many of the earlier onlookers had already drifted away; the benches had emptied in places, and hardly anyone remained before the railings.

Yan Wuping had accused Peng Yue—if Peng Yue did not appear, the trial could not proceed.

Qu You closed her eyes, recalling Article Forty-two of Book Three of the Great Yin Code. The statute on drum petitions said nothing of those unwritten requirements for the petitioner, but it stated plainly: when a commoner accused an official, or a subordinate accused a superior, the one in the higher position was obligated to answer the petition—otherwise it would be taken as proof of misconduct in office.

If he did not come, the Censorate would hear of it and impeach him regardless, and the case would be dragged before the entire court. If Peng Yue had a guilty conscience, he would never dare let it go that far.

So he was certain to come. Delaying now was merely an attempt to wear down the crowd’s patience.

Beside her, Bo Ying, seeing Qu You’s eyes still closed after so long, couldn’t help but pat her on the shoulder. Qu You, deep in thought, nearly toppled off the bench from the slap. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Bo Ying said with a grin. “I thought you’d gotten heatstroke and was about to pinch your philtrum to revive you.”

Before Qu You could respond, Zhou Tan, not far from her, suddenly called out, “He San.”

He San, at his side, answered, “My lord.”

“Send some ice to the viewing gallery.”

He San glanced back, somewhat puzzled. “Yes, my lord.”

Zhou Tan raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, then thought a moment and added, “Carry the ice basins through the great avenue along the Bian River. Send plenty of men. If anyone asks, tell them it’s for the seating at today’s public trial.”

Before long, Qu You saw people carrying ice basins pour in through the front gate in an almost grand procession. The air around them cooled considerably at once, and along with the ice came a fresh crowd of onlookers drawn by the spectacle.

The empty seats beside her filled up again, and Bo Ying made yet another new friend, lamenting only that he hadn’t brought enough melon seeds.

It was nearly the first hour of the afternoon watch when Peng Yue, escorted by several guards, finally strode leisurely into the Ministry’s front courtyard.

“Lord Zhou…”