◎ Gazing at the Moon ◎

When Qu You opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Ye Liuchun’s worried face by her bedside.

She had already removed the ornate hairpins and jewelry she usually wore at the House of Spring Breeze and Rain, now in plain robes with a simple jade hairpin—yet even with her hair simply hanging loose, she still carried an air of delicate, languid charm.

Qu You struggled to sit up, and Ye Liuchun immediately grasped her hand.

She said nothing at all; Qu You didn’t speak first either. She looked into Ye Liuchun’s eyes and shook her head very slightly.

Ye Liuchun let out a breath of relief.

Qu You drank a cup of tea with her help, gradually calming her frantic heartbeat.

The moment she’d learned Song Chang had summoned all the senior officials into the palace, she’d known something was wrong. Zhou Tan too had sensed the danger; the two of them had agreed to flee the residence at dusk and meet everyone at Perch Wind Cottage.

Afterward, Qu You had slipped the sleeping powder she’d previously gotten from Bo Ying into his tea.

She had arranged beforehand with Su Chaoci that if anything went wrong in the palace, Zhou Tan would be spirited away at once through the back gate of the residence.

Zhou Tan, utterly unsuspecting of her, had drifted into a drugged sleep. Su Chaoci arrived as agreed and took him from the residence.

Before leaving, he’d turned back and asked hesitantly, “Sister-in-law, are you truly not coming with us?”

Qu You shook her head. “Keep an eye on him. If he wakes, don’t let him return to the capital.”

Su Chaoci said, “He probably won’t agree to that.”

Qu You said, “Ziqian will have so much to attend to. You’ll… find a way to stop him.”

Su Chaoci sighed heavily.

The two of them had never really been close, hadn’t exchanged many words, and yet Qu You always felt an odd, curious sensation looking at him—Su Chaoci was still young at this point, upright and tall like a slender bamboo, exactly as her professor had once described him in lectures.

Later generations would praise him for his noble, upright integrity, and in person he matched the historical record almost exactly. Even as she admired him, she found herself stroking Zhou Tan’s cold hand, suddenly overwhelmed with an unbearable grief and helplessness.

Why did history have to be so unjust to Zhou Tan?

She had no answer to that question.

Su Chaoci helped her lift Zhou Tan into the carriage, then turned and bowed deeply to her. “Sister-in-law’s righteousness is beyond words. Once Master Ai and I reach Jinling, we’ll find a way to come to your aid. Please take care of yourself.”

Qu You asked, “You plan to go to Jinling first?”

Su Chaoci said, “Yes.”

Qu You nodded. “That’s fine. If His Majesty dies, the Crown Prince will have his hands too full to chase you down right away. But if the situation grows urgent, it might be safer to continue east along the river to Lin’an instead.”

Su Chaoci said, “Mm. Master Ai suggested the same, but I keep thinking Jinling is a secondary capital, not too far from the capital either—if something urgent arises, it’d be easier to lend aid from there.”

Qu You said, “That’s reasonable too. I alone can only try my best to sway the Crown Prince’s intentions. If it comes to that, I’ll be counting on all of you and Little Yan for help. Old General Chu is already fully prepared to defend the palace—go quickly, while the Crown Prince hasn’t yet left the palace.”

Su Chaoci turned to take his leave, but Qu You thought for a moment and called him back.

She pulled a red cord from around her own neck and tied it around Zhou Tan’s neck. Su Chaoci glanced at it and saw that the white jade ring thumb-guard Zhou Tan had never once removed was strung on it.

His heart trembled, and he called out, “Sister-in-law…”

Qu You only smiled faintly at him. “Something to remember me by. Go quickly.”

She watched Su Chaoci’s carriage disappear around the corner of the alley, then wiped away the small trace of tears at the corner of her eyes, lifted her skirts, and ran swiftly back into the house, downing what remained of the tea Zhou Tan had left in his cup.

She slid slowly down against the writing desk to the floor and gradually fell into unconsciousness.

In her hazy half-sleep, she seemed to hear the heavy toll of a funeral bell, somewhere far off, echoing across the sky above the capital.

When she woke again, she was here.

But Qu You had no chance to speak much with Ye Liuchun before being made to hurry into the palace alongside the Crown Princess.

Once inside, the Crown Princess was stopped by guards and led away to wait in a side hall—it was Qu You, instead, who was brought before Xuande Hall.

The Crown Prince had a chair brought and sat before the hall, idly turning the imperial seal over in his hands. Seeing her approach, he gave a light laugh.

Qu You lowered her head and bowed.

Song Shiyan asked, “Where has Zhou Tan gone?”

Qu You shook her head. “This morning, when I heard His Majesty had summoned all the officials into the palace, he must have already begun plotting to flee. I secretly followed him into the study, hoping to gather more information for Your Highness, but he noticed me and drugged me unconscious.”

Song Shiyan gave a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. “He simply left you behind at the residence like that?”

Qu You answered calmly, “Ever since Your Highness invited me to Fanlou that day, Zhou Tan has grown suspicious of me. Since I have other options now, naturally I no longer need to stand or fall alongside him as I once did.”

Song Shiyan still seemed unconvinced. “You’re still husband and wife, after all.”

“When I returned from Ruozhou, I asked him for a divorce document bearing his personal seal.” Qu You, head lowered, immediately drew from her sleeve the divorce paper Zhou Tan had written long ago. “Letting him escape was my own oversight. Once Your Highness captures him, I’ll deal with him myself, to prove my loyalty.”

Song Shiyan examined it carefully; the seal on the letter was indeed Zhou Tan’s personal seal, and he relaxed somewhat. “Since the two of you are already divorced, I’ll grant you a position as palace steward for now, to attend to small matters alongside me and the Crown Princess.”

Qu You hesitated slightly, then knelt before him. “I thank Your Highness for this grace.”

Song Shiyan laughed. “You’re willing to kneel now, are you?”

“Within the imperial palace, before the Son of Heaven, one naturally kneels.”

She raised her head and said carefully, “Something just occurred to me, Your Highness. The officials in Xuande Hall—you mustn’t kill them yet.”

Song Shiyan narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

“I suspect Zhou Tan may be holding onto a dying edict left by His Majesty.” Qu You said. “Right after he returned to the capital and had that private audience with His Majesty, I happened to glimpse a brocade box in his hands. I can’t be certain, but I strongly suspect it.”

She shuffled forward on her knees a couple of steps, speaking earnestly. “If he really does have the dying edict, Your Highness must keep these old officials alive and do everything possible to persuade them to change their testimony in your favor—not only to confirm that His Majesty gave a verbal decree in your favor, but also to declare that whatever edict Zhou Tan holds is false.”

Zhou Tan did indeed hold a dying edict—but it wasn’t the one left by Emperor De. A few days earlier, Zhou Tan had mentioned that Emperor De’s true edict was still inside Xuande Hall. She was deliberately muddying the waters, making the Crown Prince believe the edict had already been taken by Zhou Tan, so he wouldn’t turn Xuande Hall upside down searching for it.

Besides, her most pressing task right now was to find some pretext to save the lives of the officials trapped in Xuande Hall.

Song Shiyan hesitated slightly.

He’d had a chair brought to sit before the hall precisely because he was waiting for the officials inside to break and submit—after all, he’d promised that whoever came forward to write the succession edict would become his trusted minister. If none of them agreed, after the burning of one stick of incense he would go in and question them one by one; if they still refused submission, he might as well kill them with a single sword stroke.

He’d originally assumed that even if Emperor De had secretly left an edict, it should still be somewhere in the palace. But if what Qu You said was true—that Zhou Tan had taken the edict away days earlier—that wasn’t impossible either, and it even made more sense. Emperor De must have anticipated this day of forced abdication, and entrusting it early would also have thrown off suspicion.

So that was why Zhou Tan hadn’t come to the palace today!

A surge of irritable, violent anger rose in him; he nearly hurled the imperial seal in his hand to the ground. Startled, Qu You called out, “Your Highness!”

Song Shiyan came back to himself and gave a cold snort. “These stubborn old fools, every one of them—how could they possibly agree to testify for me? Better to kill them all cleanly now.”

The moment he’d finished speaking, the two of them heard a guard running toward them from the palace gates, shouting, “Your Highness—”

“General Chu Lin heard the funeral bell and wants to enter the palace! He’s brought troops and clashed with our men outside the palace gates!”

Li Wei’s forces were fewer than Chu Lin’s, but Chu Lin was also wary of endangering the lives of the officials trapped in Xuande Hall, and dared not act rashly, so he remained locked in a standoff with Li Wei outside the gates.

But such a stalemate couldn’t hold for long. If Chu Lin decided to press a full assault, Li Wei might not be able to hold.

Which was precisely why the Crown Prince needed to borrow troops.

Qu You turned to look, and indeed saw no trace of alarm on the Crown Prince’s face. He rose, yawned, and walked out after the guard—after a couple of steps, he turned back to glance at her.

“Miss Qu, I have urgent matters to attend to. Since you’ve pledged your loyalty, why not help me persuade the men in the hall for now? If they’re still stubborn by the time I return, don’t waste any more effort on them.”

Qu You said quickly, “Yes.”

Once the Crown Prince had left, she hurried into the inner hall and dismissed all the guards.

Though these old officials had heard of her striking the drum on the Imperial Avenue, most had never actually seen her; seeing a young woman enter, they were all bewildered.

Someone cursed outright, “What exactly does that scoundrel Crown Prince mean by this?”

Qu You raised her voice. “I am the Crown Prince’s steward, sent specially to persuade you all on His Highness’s behalf.”

This was said for the benefit of those listening outside—the guards stood close enough that the Crown Prince still hadn’t fully trusted her.

Someone in the crowd seemed to recognize her, saying hesitantly, “Aren’t you… the household relative who struck the drum on the Imperial Avenue for Vice Minister Zhou, when he was implicated with Chancellor Fu?”

Cai Ying looked her over again and found her familiar too. “This is a matter of state—since when does a woman of the inner household get to meddle in it? You’re Zhou Tan’s family… what, has he submitted to the Crown Prince?”

Qu You said loudly, “Zhou Tan and I are already divorced. Here is the divorce document, bearing his own seal—Zhou Tan refused to submit to the rightful heir and has already fled the capital. Such a treacherous rebel is despised by all. My lords, please don’t associate me with him.”

“Besides, what do you mean by ‘a woman of the inner household’? I’ve read widely since childhood, I have broad knowledge, I’ve pleaded the cause of impoverished women, I understand the hardships of the border wars—now that I’ve earned the Crown Prince’s favor, I’m simply putting my ambitions to use.”

As she spoke, she crouched down before Cai Ying and gave him a meaningful look.

Hearing that Zhou Tan hadn’t submitted to the Crown Prince, Cai Ying’s expression eased somewhat. He gave a cold snort. “So Zhou Tan finally grew a conscience for once, and now his wife goes and becomes a treacherous rebel alongside that scheming villain—how ironic…”

Qu You leaned close to his ear and quickly whispered something.

The officials watched Cai Ying’s expression change at once. He looked at Qu You in disbelief, mouthing silently, “Really?”

Qu You nodded gravely.

She rose, bowed deeply to the assembled officials, and said in a lowered voice, “My lords, please take care of yourselves. The future of the Great Yin dynasty depends on all of you.”

By the time Song Shiyan returned from the palace gates, he heard that Cai Ying had handed over the edict deposing the Crown Prince, which he’d been clutching to his chest so fiercely.

Qu You helped him throw it into the fire, saying gently, “These old officials just needed a bit of time to come around. Perhaps Your Highness could imprison them at the Ministry of Justice for now. When Your Highness needs their testimony later, you can bring them out from there—there’s no need to worry they won’t submit eventually.”

Left to his own devices, Song Shiyan would certainly have had them all executed right there in Xuande Hall. But somehow, Qu You had managed to talk them into cooperating. Seeing her speak so gently now, his anger cooled considerably, and he waved a hand. “Keep them locked up here for now, send them clean water daily. Once the court has stabilized, move them all to the Ministry of Justice.”

With Song Chang’s death, the Zanjin Pavilion fell into disuse at once. The Crown Prince hadn’t had time to replace its staff with his own people, so he simply abolished the institution altogether. Since the Zanjin Pavilion had existed only briefly and never handled any major cases, it was no wonder it never made it into the history books.

Qu You was temporarily assigned to attend the Crown Princess.

With Chu Lin’s troops surrounding the palace, the Crown Prince needed to resolve that matter before he could hold his enthronement ceremony. For the next few days, the Crown Princess remained in the side hall, handling various palace affairs.

Though born into a prominent noble family, faced with such an unfamiliar situation, she found herself somewhat flustered. Fortunately, Qu You was relatively familiar with the palace’s protocols, and with the help of a few elderly nannies, they managed to arrange the palace and the former Emperor’s consorts satisfactorily.

The Crown Princess was deeply grateful to her, seemingly entirely unconcerned about whether Qu You had come to serve as a female official or as the Crown Prince’s bedmate—several times she even said she’d like to make her a Noble Consort, and it took Qu You many explanations to convince her otherwise.

On the third day, she heard news within the palace that the Crown Prince had thrown open the capital’s gates and let in a force of “heaven-sent reinforcements.”

Caught in a pincer attack he hadn’t anticipated, Chu Lin was cut down before Nanhua Gate.

Though Song Shiyan had, as she’d suggested, temporarily imprisoned the officials from Xuande Hall at the Ministry of Justice, many other officials—those Song Chang hadn’t summoned into the palace that day—had no idea what the coup was even about, and were lured into Xuande Hall by Song Shiyan, coerced into submission.

The succession of the crown prince was, in principle, entirely legitimate. But many knew of Emperor De’s intent to depose him, and demanded Song Shiyan produce the dying edict; the wiser ones simply kept silent, withholding judgment for now.

By the time Qu You learned of this, it was too late to intervene. The window paper of Xuande Hall was splattered with crimson blood; by the time she arrived, all she could see were palace attendants fetching straw mats to drag away the bodies of these loyal remonstrating officials.

The court was purged with ruthless swiftness by the Crown Prince. Within days, he hastily began preparations for his enthronement ceremony.

Qu You led the palace staff in organizing the ceremony for him. With the Ministry of Rites understaffed, there were many errors and omissions; she took the opportunity to steal the imperial seal that Song Shiyan had casually handed to the Crown Princess, pried loose a golden brick in Xuande Hall, and hid the seal inside.

The day after the enthronement ceremony, the Crown Prince held his first mourning-court session.

Among the few remaining officials at court, someone reported tremblingly that a group of men in military uniform had been roaming the capital recently, committing numerous crimes; the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review dared not arrest them, and requested the Emperor’s instructions.

As Qu You made her way from the newly crowned Empress Li Yuanjun’s palace toward Xuande Hall, she heard the guards at the entrance say the Emperor was receiving a visitor.

Having spent recent days often by the Crown Prince’s side, this group of people all knew her and knew she had influence with him, so they treated her with great respect, not daring to be careless.

Qu You waited a moment outside the hall, then saw a man of foreign appearance emerge from within, glancing at her with an insolent, careless air, a flicker of admiration crossing his eyes, muttering something under his breath before swaggering off.

He’d spoken in the Xishao language, which she understood—a teasing remark meaning “pretty one.”

Qu You lowered her eyes and walked into the hall. Behind the beaded curtain, Song Shiyan didn’t rise, asking lazily, “Who’s there?”

She answered, “Your Majesty, it’s me.”

Song Shiyan sat up from the dragon throne, breaking into a smile. “Miss Qu has come. I’ve hardly seen you these past few days.”

After the imperial seal went missing, Song Shiyan had flown into a rage and had originally intended to execute everyone who’d handled it. It was she who had earnestly talked him out of it, claiming she had a perfect memory and could draw a diagram of the seal for craftsmen to forge a replacement overnight.

During her time in the palace, though much of it was unfamiliar to her, she had studied palace protocol day and night with the help of a few elderly nannies, handling every task assigned to her admirably. Combined with the matter of the imperial seal, Song Shiyan had come to trust her a great deal lately. “You’ve handled your duties extremely well these past days, Miss Qu.”

Qu You replied, “I’m grateful for Your Majesty’s trust.”

Song Shiyan looked at her with keen interest. “The morning court just ended not long ago. What brings you here?”

“I heard that during this morning’s audience, an official reported that soldiers in the capital have been running rampant, oppressing the common people,” Qu You said. “The matter seems rather serious, so I’ve come to ask how Your Majesty wishes to handle it.”

She was unwilling to refer to herself as “this servant,” and it wasn’t appropriate to call herself “this official” either, so she simply used “I.” Fortunately, Song Shiyan didn’t much care for such formalities and had barely noticed.

“Miss Qu is clever enough—you should have some idea where these troops came from.” Song Shiyan waved off the servants around him, and said, weighing his words, “I’ve been extremely busy lately and haven’t had the mind to manage them. Consider it a reward for their service.”

“Your Majesty, this is no small matter.” Qu You reached over to pour him a cup of tea, respectfully. “I know Your Majesty is generous by nature and feels it’s fine to reward them a little, but whether they’re acting properly among the common people is something you, sitting high in court, may not be able to see clearly.”

She offered him the cup with both hands. “If it were truly a trivial matter, the officials wouldn’t have raised it at court. Your Majesty has only just ascended the throne, and the people’s hearts in the capital aren’t yet settled. Whatever these troops do, the common people will only blame Your Majesty for it—why invite such trouble? In my view…”

She didn’t continue. Song Shiyan took a sip of the tea she’d poured, finding the bamboo-leaf brew faintly bitter. He set down the cup and said, tone unreadable, “You’re likely the only one who’d dare say such things to me.”

Qu You’s expression didn’t change. “Since Your Majesty keeps me by your side, it’s precisely because you wish to hear such things.”

“Then go on.”

“I understand Your Majesty doesn’t wish to offend them for now. But there are other ways to avoid offending them besides rewarding their misconduct—for instance… Your Majesty could send them out of the city to hunt down the remaining traitors and rebels?”

Song Shiyan gave an “Mm.” “What trouble could that lot possibly still cause?”

Qu You said, “Since they fled the capital as a group, they must have a leader and a plan. Even though the other princes are all still within the city, there’s no telling what’s on their minds. Your Majesty would do well to round them up as a precaution, just in case.”

The hall was thick with the scent of ambergris, which she found unpleasant. She lowered her head, about to say more, when Song Shiyan suddenly seized her wrist and pulled her toward him.

Qu You was startled, but forced herself to stay calm at once. “Your Majesty, please compose yourself.”

“Youyou, I find myself liking you more and more,” Song Shiyan said in a low voice, his warm breath brushing against the side of her neck, sending a shiver rippling through her. “Do you truly… not wish to become my woman? Whatever you want, I can give you.”

“I want the right to be respected by men. Can Your Majesty give me that?” She forced her head to turn away, speaking coldly. “I want to not be treated like an object, not to be looked at with mocking eyes. I want to accomplish things worth remembering, to have men respect and fear me—rather than look at me with the ambiguous disdain that Xishao man who just left this hall did. Your Majesty… can give me many things, but not through this method.”

Song Shiyan seemed taken aback by her words and loosened his grip slightly. Qu You immediately stepped back three paces.

“No wonder, after so many years of marriage, Zhou Tan never once showed you any tenderness.” Song Shiyan’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Running my hand down the back of your neck, all I find is defiance and rebellion. But if you weren’t like this, I wouldn’t like you at all. Never mind—I don’t care for forcing anyone. You may go.”

Qu You bowed and took her leave, walking a long way along the cold red walls before finally, upon reaching Ye Liuchun’s palace, unable to hold back a couple of dry heaves.

Her stomach churned violently, leaving her too uncomfortable to speak. Looking up, she saw the moon hanging in the sky.

Cold, clear, bright—perhaps Zhou Tan was looking at the very same moon right now.

She reached unconsciously for the white jade ring at her chest—that ring which had always pressed uncomfortably against her skin. Now that it was suddenly gone, she felt an inexplicable emptiness in her heart.

The next day, amid all his busy affairs, Song Shiyan issued an order withdrawing the Xishao troops from the capital.

Qu You volunteered to lead a squad of his trusted guards to see the troops out of the city, then made two circuits through the city, helping some of the common people who’d been oppressed by them repair their homes. By the time she returned to the palace, it was already dusk.

Passing by the Zhou residence, she was suddenly struck by an impulse, and had her escort wait at the mouth of the alley while she went in alone to look around.

It was the height of summer; several untended apricot trees still grew lush and green. She ran her hand along the deeply grooved bark, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.

—A feeling she had never had before.

Because she knew that, though the Xishao troops had grumbled and cursed that day, they had, in the end, obediently left the city. To them, chasing down fleeing officials was merely a trivial task—one that let them plunder cities along the way, far from the reach of authority, more freely than they ever could within the capital.

Who could have guessed that Yan Fu had already led troops from the western border to intercept them?

The month of lawless chaos that had once ravaged the capital in the old timeline did not repeat itself. Through her painstaking work embedded at Song Shiyan’s side, she had, at last, genuinely altered the course of history—and for the first time, she truly felt that she had changed history.

Though she had no idea what fate awaited her in the future.

But she never regretted any of it.

If she had known she could save people and failed to act, she would have suffered the same self-reproach Zhou Tan once had—when Gu Xianghui fell from the tower, her fluttering sash had once brushed his fingertips; when Yan Wuping died, his body was laid beneath a broken shrine statue, and Zhou Tan had knelt beside it, nearly consumed by guilt and self-loathing.

Facing similar dilemmas, they had instinctively made the same choice.

Only, Zhou Tan hadn’t managed to save Yan Wuping that day, while she had managed to do what she set out to do.

The people of the capital hadn’t lost their homes and families to the Xishao troops; the upright officials hadn’t died in Xuande Hall; Song Shixuan had obtained the imperial seal without losing a single soldier… even Zhou Tan remained safe and unharmed.

To trade her own safety for everything she cared about—even if it meant falling into a bottomless abyss—she felt it was worth it.

This was what it had felt like for Zhou Tan, willing to be the bridge.

The fate of the martyr.

But Zhou Tan had met her, and been pulled up from the depths of that dark water, finding the courage to rise and keep walking forward.

She just didn’t know… whether she would have such good fortune herself.

Qu You was bound to the interrogation rack. From the corner of her eye, she saw Song Shiyan approaching with a long whip in hand, using its tip to lift her chin. “Youyou, that day at Fanlou, you said you wanted to be remembered in history, wanted every man in the world to look up to you… was that all a lie?”

Her hair at the temples was damp with cold sweat; hearing this, she barely managed to flick her eyelids. “What does Your Majesty think?”

“If you die here, no one will remember you at all.” Song Shiyan said softly. “You stayed behind to steal the imperial seal, but Zhou Tan and the others can’t even find an heir capable of standing against me—what good does it do you now?”

“Do you know, in my younger years I once helped my father handle several cases, assisting the Ministry of Justice in extracting confessions. For female prisoners, they’d start with finger-presses. If that failed to extract a confession, they’d strip her clothing and beat her with a courtyard rod. If that still failed, they’d take a wooden board the length of an arm and strike the woman’s abdomen—enough blows, and she’d never be able to bear children again.”

He spoke these words in the gentlest of tones, and by the end, tears had begun falling from his own eyes first.

Qu You felt waves of cold creep through her body, unconsciously clenching her fingers.

“There are crueler methods too—I can’t bring myself to describe them. But… Zhou Tan, back when he was in the imperial prison, must have endured quite a lot of them. I’ve seen it myself—they take a long, thick iron nail and drive it into the gap between bone and flesh. Hah, can you guess how painful that is?”

“Even now, on damp, humid days, he probably still remembers that agony vividly, doesn’t he?” Song Shiyan reached up to wipe the tears from his own cheeks, speaking with apparent tenderness. “I truly don’t wish to treat you this way. Please, speak with me a little more.”

Qu You bit her lip hard, determined not to let him see her trembling.

She’d studied criminal law and had certainly reviewed the penal codes for women in the Yin dynasty, but she’d never expected that one day, what she’d read in books would be applied to her own body.

She thought bitterly to herself—she’d once been the kind of person who carefully applied ointment and a bandage over even the smallest cut on her finger. Now, hearing these horrifying punishments described, though terrified out of her mind, she still refused to utter a single word of pleading.

Just as Song Shiyan had said—running a hand down the back of her neck, all one would find was defiance.

She thought, incongruously, of Zhong Yi, imprisoned in Jin as told in the Zuo Zhuan—even in captivity, he had worn the cap of the Southland and played the music of his homeland. Punishment could not erase one’s moral integrity; that was the conduct of a true gentleman.

And behind her stood not only Zhou Tan, but a thousand years of accumulated civilization’s understanding of right and wrong.

To defend everything worth defending. To hold fast to the principles worth holding.

That was how it should be. Why should she kneel?

Even cast into the darkest night, her heart held its own bright moon.

Eternity’s reunion, never lacking.

“Very well, very well…”

“Then I’ll grant you the finger-press first, let you have a taste of it. Bring it here—”

Cold bamboo clamps were fitted onto her fingers; the pain of the fingertips ran straight to the heart, and even a slight tightening brought sharp, piercing agony.

Qu You’s face turned the color of gold foil, cold sweat pouring down.

She bit through her own lip, a metallic tang spreading through her mouth.

Song Shiyan flicked his robes and sat at the desk, resting his chin on his hand, watching her. “Such a pity. You truly fooled me badly—I let your family leave the capital. No matter, though. Since you’re so bold, I’ll simply have them brought back.”

Qu You’s heart lurched, then settled again almost at once.

The Qu household should have already arrived in Lin’an by now. Song Shixuan was there, and before long he would raise his banner in rebellion; Lin’an would be the first city to break free of Song Shiyan’s control—he wouldn’t be able to touch anyone there.

She’d thought of this from the very start, when she’d first sent her family away. That way, once they entered Lin’an, even if Song Shiyan sent men to follow them the whole way, there would be no way to bring them back.

Thinking of this, the corner of Qu You’s mouth curved slightly.

But Song Shiyan continued eagerly, “Which one in your household should I kill first, I wonder? I hear your mother is often ill—wouldn’t want to give her too much of a fright… Your younger brother just took the spring examinations, didn’t he? Called…”

She could barely make out what he said after that.

She had been born into a civilized, orderly world; aside from once falling off a motorcycle and breaking a bone, she’d never suffered any serious injury in her life, let alone this kind of deliberate torment meant to extract confession.

And there was more still… torments designed to crush one’s dignity and break one’s spirit entirely.

If only her body were weaker, unable to endure it, Qu You thought hazily—perhaps once she died, she could return to her original world.

The only regret was leaving Zhou Tan behind here, unable to bring him to see her world—the future, orderly and governed by law.

He would surely never want to leave it.

Hearing her let out an involuntary groan of pain, Song Shiyan’s lips curved into a smile. “Really, what’s the point of holding out like this? I’ll admit, Zhou Tan is a capable man—if he weren’t so dead set on playing the noble gentleman, he could even have usurped the throne himself. Which is precisely why, all these years at the border, I never once forgot about the two of you.”

He stepped closer. The guard administering punishment poured a basin of ice water over Qu You’s head, water splashing onto his robes, but he paid it no mind at all.

“Now I sit within the capital’s inner palace, with troops, with gold and silver, with a decade’s worth of a crown prince’s authority behind me. What does it matter that Zhou Tan stole the imperial seal? Can he even come back? Would he dare come back? He missed his best chance to move against me while father was still alive. Chu Lin is already dead—it’s too late for everything now! No matter how much he despises me, he can only watch helplessly as I destroy everything he holds dear—whether it’s that ridiculous memorial on penal reform he spent years petitioning father over, or you—he can only watch as I crush you both with a mere flick of my finger, watch as I reign for a thousand generations, utterly powerless to stop it!”

So Zhou Tan had submitted a memorial on penal reform to Emperor De even earlier than she’d known.

But at the time, lacking Song Chang’s trust, even after uncovering numerous problems within the Court of Judicial Review and the Ministry of Justice, he’d had no way to act on it freely.

Song Shiyan rose, leaning against the desk, staring at her and laughing loudly.

The torture on her fingers paused for a moment. Qu You looked up at the twisted muscles of Song Shiyan’s laughing face, and suddenly recalled something Ye Liuchun had said.

Something was indeed off about Song Shiyan’s current state.

He swung wildly between joy and grief, laughing and weeping by turns, sometimes even shifting between two completely opposite emotions within an instant.

By all rights, having served as Crown Prince for years, he shouldn’t display his emotions so openly—especially with guards standing right beside him.

Was Song Shiyan really so unhinged now that he no longer bothered to hide it in front of others at all?

After a moment, Song Shiyan’s laughter stopped abruptly, and he turned to her as though he’d forgotten his previous mood entirely, saying coldly, “Miss Qu, what are you thinking about?”

Even his manner of address and speech had grown erratic now—entirely unlike the Crown Prince she’d first met.

The bamboo clamps suddenly tightened, far harder than before. Qu You’s brow furrowed sharply, and she cried out in pain.

She was somewhat afraid of pain; tears streamed involuntarily down her face, her thoughts spiraling into confusion. Song Shiyan watched her bowed head with interest, and after a long while, heard her force out a low laugh amid her pained groans.

Song Shiyan suddenly felt that her laughing at a time like this was an insult to him. “What are you laughing at?”

Her voice, broken with pain, came out halting and choked, but he heard every word clearly.

“Ha ha ha ha, I’m laughing at you… you’re nothing but an ant of this era, base as an insect, yet you think so highly of yourself, imagining you have powers that reach the heavens… A thousand generations? Keep dreaming! Keep dreaming!”

“A mantis trying to stop a chariot, a single leaf blinding your eyes… You who never valued your own life will be the first to throw it away; you who never valued the common people, having lost their hearts, what good will all your troops and provisions do you? In the end, you… will surely be crushed beneath the wheel of history, your bones and blood scattered across the ground! I… will be waiting to see your downfall.”

“Madam, wake up…”

Someone shook her shoulder. She opened her eyes hazily, and a faint metallic taste of blood immediately rose in her throat.

Someone supported her back and carefully wiped the blood from her chin with a cloth.

Qu You lifted her eyes and saw a familiar face.

She was helped over to lean against the wall, and with some strength returning to her, she managed, “He… He San, the guard.”

He San immediately knelt down and bowed his head respectfully to her. “Madam.”

“Cough…”

Qu You wanted to say more, but a dull ache seized her chest. Seeing this, He San skillfully struck her back, and she coughed again, dark clotted blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

He San said hurriedly, “Madam, please endure a little longer. I’ve secretly asked a few of the women here in the prison to come tend to your wounds once night falls.”

“Are you all… doing alright?” Qu You finally managed to speak, holding her chest, asking with difficulty, “Has the Crown Prince given you any trouble?”

“The official who was here during your husband’s time wasn’t very close to us. The one who replaced him died at Xuande Hall a few days ago. The Ministry of Justice has never gotten involved in factional struggles, so no one here was implicated. I’m managing things here for now on behalf of my superiors,” He San said quietly. “When I heard today that it was you His Majesty had brought here, I prepared medicine in advance, though I only dared come see you once night fell.”

Qu You nodded weakly. “Thank you.”

“Madam, there’s no need to thank me. Back when Vice Minister Zhou was here, he treated us…” He San paused for a moment, his face full of shame and regret. “He treated us with the greatest kindness. My mother was gravely ill, and Young Master Zhou found excuses to reward me time and again, out of pure compassion—and I still misunderstood him… It wasn’t until he was posted away that we learned the ‘Master White Snow’ from behind that back screen was him all along.”

She thought for a moment, then remembered stamping Zhou Tan’s personal seal on the screen before she’d left.

It seemed they already knew.

Qu You smiled faintly. “He… has been doing well these past years… when he enters the capital, remember to go see him. He’ll be glad to see an old friend.”

He San, not quite understanding her meaning, still bowed deeply and assented. “Yes… His Majesty ordered me to send men from the Ministry of Justice to interrogate you. I’ve already spoken with them—they won’t use harsh methods on you. It’s just that, to keep up appearances, you may have to endure some superficial injuries sometimes. Please bear with it, Madam. I’ll have someone come tend to your wounds at night.”

Qu You closed her eyes and nodded, then said slowly, “If it might risk him noticing, don’t take that chance…”

He San said quickly, “Don’t worry, Madam. Please take care of yourself… there’s little I can do for my lord, but I will absolutely not let you come to serious harm in this prison.”

With that, he hurried off. Not long after, several jailers in charge of female prisoners came to tend to her wounds.

They spoke to her with great respect throughout—no doubt they, too, were among the unfortunate souls that “Master White Snow” had once comforted from behind that screen.

Though the Ministry of Justice had changed several vice ministers and ministers since then, the staff below Liang An had seen very little turnover; even without He San’s instruction, most of them had received Zhou Tan’s kindness before, and tacitly took it upon themselves to look after her in secret.

At her request, they even extended their care to the group of officials imprisoned there as well.

Thus, the brutal punishments Song Shiyan spoke of were largely avoided. Only when word came that he was about to visit would the staff deliberately create some superficial wounds on her, to make things appear suitably bloody.

But after that, Song Shiyan seemed to grow extremely busy, coming to see her in person only twice more.

He San hinted vaguely that rebel forces had risen in Lin’an, keeping the Emperor occupied and leaving him no time to spare for the prisoners at the Ministry of Justice.

It seemed Song Shixuan and the others had already made Emperor Xuan’s dying edict public, and Song Shiyan, now understanding the purpose behind her stealing the imperial seal that day, no longer needed to bother forcing a confession from her.

Qu You bit her lip, thinking with quiet pleasure that this explained why he’d been so furious the last time he visited.

Though she was spared further torture, the prison cell was dark and damp, poor for recovering from her wounds, and she remained quite weak most days.

So she began sleeping long hours each day, trying her best to preserve her strength.

In that cell, where she could see only a single beam of sunlight each day, she had a long, long dream.