The moment Guān Mò saw Zhāng Tāng, he knew it was all over. Whatever he had — it was all finished.
He’d wanted to bolt through the door, but Zhāng Tāng simply stood there, and it felt to Guān Mò like an iron gate had dropped across the opening.
“What I thought was a middling case has suddenly become a very large one.”
Zhāng Tāng wore a faint smile, his tone mild: “Vice Minister Guān — would you like to come back to the Judicial Bureau with me for tea?”
Guān Mò said nothing. He turned instinctively to look at Zhāo Shīshī, who had risen and was looking back at him with her chin slightly raised — as if to say: yes. It was me.
Lù Chónglóu had come into the teahouse because the signboard was gone. And the missing signboard meant: come in.
Every time Lù Chónglóu passed by this teahouse, he’d glanced toward it. What he’d been looking at was whether the signboard was still there.
“A misunderstanding. All of this is a misunderstanding.” Guān Mò caught his breath and said quickly to Zhāng Tāng: “What I said to that woman was nothing but idle boasting. None of it was meant seriously.”
Zhāng Tāng nodded. “I know. A scheme of this magnitude couldn’t possibly be so sloppily executed. I wouldn’t believe it either.”
“Thank you, thank you—”
“Nevertheless,” Zhāng Tāng said, the smile unchanged, “since the case has been opened, I must ask the Vice Minister to come to the Judicial Bureau and go through the motions.”
He looked toward Zhāo Shīshī: “This young lady will need to come as well.”
—
Not long after, at the Judicial Bureau.
The lamps were bright enough that Guān Mò’s pallid face showed with painful clarity.
Zhāng Tāng sat toying with some kind of pendant he carried, not asking a single question, just sitting there in quiet stillness.
Zhāo Shīshī stood to one side. She was nervous — oddly, though, she wasn’t afraid.
Just then, footsteps at the door. She glanced over — and startled slightly.
It was Xiāo Wéi’ān. The greedy teahouse manager.
He walked straight in and looked at Zhāng Tāng: “Doesn’t this earn me a Good Citizen Award?”
“What makes you a good citizen?” said Zhāng Tāng.
“I just helped the Judicial Bureau crack a case this large,” Xiāo Wéi’ān said. “I won’t bring up the past, but at the very least — isn’t this possibly the biggest case in all of Dàníng so far?”
That actually gave Zhāng Tāng pause. Dàníng had been founded so recently — calling this the first major case of the new dynasty wasn’t exactly wrong.
“First explain the case thoroughly,” Zhāng Tāng said. “Whether there’s a reward depends on how it’s judged.”
Xiāo Wéi’ān pointed at Guān Mò: “Caught him red-handed. What’s there to question? If this man isn’t convicted of what you think—”
Zhāng Tāng raised a hand to stop him.
“Technically, he can’t be convicted of what you’re thinking.”
At those words, a faint gleam of hope appeared in Guān Mò’s eyes. He’d guessed: it had to be because of Chancellor Xú Jì’s influence. Everyone knew he was Xú Jì’s man. Who would dare simply dispose of a Vice Minister of Personnel?
A scandal, he thought. This is a scandal… And somehow, in that moment, the word felt like a lifeline. Not a shred of remorse — just relief at something to grab hold of.
“Zhāng Dàren,” Guān Mò said quickly, “this case isn’t what you think. I was framed—”
Zhāng Tāng turned and looked at him. “No one gave you the floor.”
He lifted a hand and pointed to Guān Mò’s mouth: “Take it off.”
Two Judicial Bureau officers stepped forward. Guān Mò struggled and kept shouting. Zhāng Tāng’s brow furrowed:
“In the Judicial Bureau, no one acts out of turn.”
The moment he said it, the Chief Officer Yú Hóngyī stepped forward, planted a kick behind Guān Mò’s knees, and sent him crashing to the floor.
Even as he hit his knees, Guān Mò was shouting: “I am a Vice Minister of Dàníng — a Grade Three official! Without an imperial decree, none of you can touch me! Not even your Judicial Bureau can act against me without proper authority!”
“Noise.”
Yú Hóngyī raised her hand and struck him across the face. One clean, resounding crack.
That slap dazed Guān Mò. It dazed Zhāo Shīshī too.
In her eyes, a Vice Minister — Guān Mò’s rank, so far above her that she could never have imagined touching it — had always been untouchable. No matter what, she was powerless against that authority.
And yet here in the Judicial Bureau, a Grade Three official had been slapped so hard his mouth split open, blood immediately seeping out.
Then she watched the Chief Officer reach out, grip Guān Mò’s jaw, and twist it sharply back and forth — until his jaw was dislocated. With his mouth hanging uselessly open, blood and saliva running freely, he could no longer speak.
“As I said,” Zhāng Tāng said with mild distaste, glancing at Guān Mò, “no one gave you the floor.”
He looked toward Zhāo Shīshī: “The Judicial Bureau will investigate this case thoroughly. As of now, it no longer concerns you — but you may not leave Cháng’ān, and your family may not leave either for the time being. Can you agree to that?”
Zhāo Shīshī nodded quickly: “Yes.”
Zhāng Tāng continued: “You needn’t worry about retaliation. Your family will be under the Judicial Bureau’s protection. As for you—”
He looked toward Xiāo Wéi’ān.
Xiāo Wéi’ān said: “She’s a key witness, and this case involves Minister of Personnel Lù Chónglóu. She should be placed under Lù Dàren’s direct care. I suggest she stay at Lù Dàren’s residence for now.”
Zhāng Tāng’s eyes narrowed.
But to everyone’s surprise, he agreed.
Xiāo Wéi’ān said: “Never mind the Good Citizen Award. I’ll take Miss Zhāo to Lù Dàren’s estate, and leave the rest of this to you.”
Zhāng Tāng made a gesture of courtesy. His expression, however, read unmistakably: don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
Xiāo Wéi’ān smiled, looked at Zhāo Shīshī: “Let’s go, master. I’ll escort you.”
Zhāo Shīshī didn’t dare say much. She followed Xiāo Wéi’ān out of the Judicial Bureau and into a carriage heading toward Lù Chónglóu’s home.
“Who exactly are you?”
She finally couldn’t hold back the question. She’d been too afraid to ask in the Bureau; now she just barely mustered the courage.
“Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is — you did well today, and you should keep doing well. Believe that Dàníng’s laws are fair. Believe that officials like Guān Mò are the rare exception. As long as you’re willing to speak up, Dàníng’s court will see justice done for you.”
He looked at her: “I heard that the moment Lù Dàren walked in, you told him everything?”
Zhāo Shīshī lifted her chin. “Mm. Every single thing. Left nothing out.”
Xiāo Wéi’ān asked curiously: “Why weren’t you afraid for even a moment? How did you know, the second Lù Dàren walked in, that he would be able to make things right?”
“Because Lù Dàren is the Minister of Personnel,” she said, “and Guān Mò is only the Vice Minister. I’m not very educated, but I know the Minister outranks the Vice Minister!”
She felt, having said this, that she had made quite a sound argument.
Xiāo Wéi’ān was briefly silent. Then nodded. “That does make sense.”
She had one more question — having asked the first, she decided to simply ask the second as well.
“Then… sending me to Lù Dàren’s estate — is that genuinely necessary for him to look after me personally?”
“Lù Dàren doesn’t have time for that — he’s far too busy to be at home much.”
“Then why are you sending me to his estate?”
“Let me put it this way…”
Xiāo Wéi’ān thought for a moment, as though genuinely struggling to find the right words.
“You think Guān Mò’s rank was very high, right? And you think Lù Dàren’s rank is even higher, right?”
Zhāo Shīshī nodded. “Both quite high.”
“Then,” said Xiāo Wéi’ān, “you ask me why I’m sending you to Lù Dàren’s estate — and honestly I don’t quite know how to explain it. Just think about it yourself. The people involved in this matter… how high do they go…”
Zhāo Shīshī frowned and thought carefully. Could this affair really be that complicated?
Xiāo Wéi’ān let out a quiet sigh and murmured to himself: “Someone like you could never imagine it — up there, very high up, there are figures like gods, and what a burning fire of curiosity they must have…”
He stopped himself.
But inside him, that murmured voice continued.
Up there, very high up, there are figures like gods, and the curiosity burning inside them right now is something fierce…
—
And indeed, in a tall timber building by the roadside, on its third floor, at the window overlooking the street, several godlike figures were watching the carriage pass below.
Gāo Xīníng set down her telescope and made a little tsk of appreciation: “She really is lovely. If Lù Chónglóu can’t close the deal himself, I may have to step in personally…”
Lǐ Chì said: “You’d better not. For Lù Chónglóu, this is probably a chance encounter by fate — practically heaven’s doing. If you get involved, you might send heaven’s will packing.”
Gāo Xīníng’s eyes narrowed. Lǐ Chì immediately fell silent.
A moment later, he pointed at the carriage below: “Look, look — you’ve already put things in motion, haven’t you? Just be patient a little longer, just a little more…”
The others standing behind them pressed their lips together, suppressing laughter. Among them were the senior disciple of Guàdāo Sect, Jiǎ Ruǎn, and the junior disciple Zhēn Gèn.
Jiǎ Ruǎn smiled: “Your Majesty, the man I recommended — was he up to standard?”
Lǐ Chì laughed: “He’s an interesting person. Why haven’t any of you mentioned him before?”
Jiǎ Ruǎn said: “All the junior disciples of Guàdāo Sect are interesting people. Xiāo Wéi’ān is just one of them — he was posted to the Judicial Bureau a long time ago, but rarely appears in public. He’s been doing logistics and support work in the background.”
Lǐ Chì said: “Someone this interesting is wasted in the back. Transfer him to the palace — have him work under Yè Xiǎoqiān first.”
Jiǎ Ruǎn nodded: “I’ll go find him shortly.”
Lǐ Chì said: “Just have him report to the Judicial Bureau for now. I’ll go see Zhāng Tāng myself.”
He turned and headed downstairs.
The others followed Lǐ Chì down — all of them with hearts full of that burning gossip-fire, feeling that the business of Lù Chónglóu and Zhāo Shīshī was far more important than the business of Guān Mò.
And far more entertaining.
—