These past two days, Zhao Ting’er had finally succeeded in using pickled radish water to boil and soften sheep horn until it became pliable, then cooled and reshaped it into translucent jade-colored lantern covers. She crafted bright horn lanterns that hung high beneath the corridor eaves, unafraid of wind and rain, casting a cold-toned light that illuminated the hall interior.
The main hall had also been fitted with two additional large candles to increase illumination. Han Qian watched Zhao Ting’er’s delicate and charming features under the lamplight, thinking that she had been following him for nearly two years now. Though only seventeen this year, in this era she was already well past marriageable age.
Initially, Han Qian had felt like an autumn grasshopper bound and suspended, constantly guarding against betrayal by those around him, his mind consumed with struggling to survive, with no heart for romantic affairs between men and women. Even when occasional feelings arose, he would quickly suppress them, even worrying that any improper designs he might have toward Zhao Ting’er would ultimately destroy the fragile trust between them.
Han Qian clearly understood how the Battle of Xichuan and Fan Dahei’s death had impacted and changed his state of mind. He was no longer as anxious and restless as before, allowing him to examine the people and events around him with a reflective attitude. Only then did he discover that Zhao Ting’er’s clear, beautiful, and gentle shy demeanor truly melted into his very bones.
However, in this era, the noble and the base could not intermarry. Though Han Qian wouldn’t take such ritual laws seriously, he wouldn’t let this matter become a weakness others could exploit against him.
He didn’t want to engage in improper relations with Zhao Ting’er, and his father would probably not agree to him taking a concubine before taking a wife.
“What are you thinking about?” Zhao Ting’er noticed Han Qian staring at her with a strange expression and asked, her beautiful eyes sparkling like autumn waters flowing sideways.
“Why don’t you guess what I’m thinking?” Han Qian asked with a smile, his hand supporting his chin as he gazed at Zhao Ting’er’s slightly slender yet fair and delicate face in the candlelight.
“Who knows what indecent thoughts the young master is having?” Zhao Ting’er covered Han Qian’s eyes with her hand to prevent him from staring at her, but unexpectedly Han Qian disgustingly licked her palm.
Zhao Ting’er tossed the book in her hands toward Han Qian, giggling as she wiped her hand, then raised her small fist as if to strike him.
“Ahem!” Old Zhao regretted bursting in too hastily. Xi Ren, who was sitting in front of the corridor playing with her short sword, had already seen him enter, leaving him no way to quietly retreat. He could only stand stiffly at the corridor entrance and cough twice to alert his young master and daughter that he was standing outside.
Zhao Ting’er picked up the book and covered her face with it. Han Qian straightened his back and asked Old Zhao, “What is it?”
“Han Qian, Han Qian…” Before Old Zhao could speak, Feng Yi’s voice rang out from outside the courtyard. Then they saw Feng Yi, ignoring the guards blocking the courtyard gate, pulling Kong Xirong straight through.
“It’s so late—what brings you two out of the city? Or have you just finished carousing elsewhere and stopped by?” Han Qian signaled the guards to withdraw and asked.
Feng Yi and Kong Xirong, nominally like Han Qian, were both literary attendants in the Prince’s Manor. But whether in terms of merit or closeness, Third Prince Yang Yuanpu could never truly keep them by his side to participate in confidential matters.
Apart from when the Third Prince first returned to Jinling and was enfeoffed as Prince of Linjiang, when they visited more frequently, Feng Yi and Kong Xirong rarely appeared at the Prince’s Manor.
During these twenty days, although Han Qian had devoted much energy to affairs at Yandang Jetty, he went to the Prince’s Manor every other day, yet he had barely encountered Feng Yi and Kong Xirong. He wondered why they had suddenly rushed to Yandang Jetty so late at night.
“My father is at Meiting Wharf and wants to see you. Come with us quickly,” Feng Yi said.
Though Feng Yi appeared carefree and casual, the fact that Feng Wenlan suddenly wanted to see him late at night meant Han Qian couldn’t possibly just rashly set off with Feng Yi and Kong Xirong. He grasped Feng Yi’s hand and said, “If your father wants to see me, at least let me change into dry, fresh clothes. You two sit here first. I just received two jars of fine tea from someone—I’ll have Zhao Ting’er brew some for you to taste!”
“What good tea could you possibly have here? My family is at Meiting Wharf—would we lack a sip of good tea?” Feng Yi urged Han Qian rather urgently to set off with them.
“What exactly does your father want? Why is he so urgent to see me this late?” Han Qian, wearing his self-tailored sleeveless cross-collar vest, gave Zhao Ting’er a meaningful look, signaling her to fetch casual clothes from the inner room. He remained seated calmly, first steadying Feng Yi as he spoke, “His Highness asked me to draft a memorial that must be delivered to the Prince’s Manor first thing tomorrow morning. Unless it’s something urgent, why don’t you two stay here tonight, and I’ll accompany you to Meiting Wharf first thing tomorrow morning?”
The Feng family had an estate at Meiting Wharf west of the city. At this late hour, they couldn’t pass directly through the city and would have to detour through the south, traveling nearly fifty li of night roads to reach Meiting Wharf.
The more urgent Feng Yi appeared, the less willing Han Qian was to rush to Meiting Wharf at this hour.
Seeing that Zhao Ting’er hadn’t emerged from the inner room for some time, and that Han Qian sat there immovable without any intention of hurrying her, Feng Yi realized that unless he explained clearly what this was about, Han Qian would never go to Meiting Wharf with him.
“It’s not really anything urgent—it’s just that my father insists on asking you to come discuss the matter face to face.”
Feng Yi was also thirsty. Seeing a cup of cool tea on the table, he didn’t care whose leftover it was, picked it up and gulped it down carelessly, saying:
“You know our family’s estate at Meiting Wharf has fallen into some disrepair, so we wanted to purchase some timber for renovations. Who would have thought that the unscrupulous merchant who sold us the timber would be so audacious as to secretly cut trees from the back mountain of Jiming Ridge? During the heavy rains a couple days ago, because Jiming Ridge’s back mountain had been heavily logged, half the mountainside collapsed, burying several shacks and crushing over ten craftsmen working on the imperial tomb. This matter has nothing directly to do with our Feng family, right? But Investigating Censor Zhang Han wants to impeach our Feng family, as if our family deliberately wanted to crush those craftsmen to death. Sigh, I don’t know what my father is thinking. That whole pack of investigating censors just want to bite people all day long. Now even if we let him bite, even if this matter reaches His Majesty, at worst our Feng family will just compensate His Majesty with a dozen or so slaves. I don’t know why my father is so anxious about it.”
“How does your family know about this if Zhang Han’s memorial hasn’t been submitted yet?” Han Qian asked with furrowed brows.
“Naturally someone at the Censorate who received benefits from our family sent word,” Feng Yi said.
“Ting’er, bring over Investigating Censor Zhang Han’s file,” Han Qian instructed Zhao Ting’er in the inner room.
Since last year, he had begun investigating the backgrounds of mid and high-ranking civil and military officials at court and establishing files on them, precisely so that at moments like this he could deduce the underlying cause-and-effect relationships.
Zhao Ting’er brought out a thin booklet that documented Zhang Han’s background, associates, and main official achievements and reputation since entering government service. In particular, it noted in detail the impeachment memorials he had submitted during his years serving at the Censorate.
After reviewing these, Han Qian’s brow furrowed deeply, and he understood why Feng Wenlan had panicked so after learning of Zhang Han’s impeachment.
Over these years, the officials Zhang Han had impeached in his memorials all seemed to involve minor matters, but under Emperor Tianyou’s direct intervention and investigation, they had all nearly resulted in house confiscation and clan extermination cases. Zhang Han was simply a chess piece Emperor Tianyou had placed in the Censorate!
“When exactly did the Jiming mountain face collapse? Are you certain your family didn’t directly send people to illegally log in Jiming Mountain?” Han Qian asked seriously, his face tense as he stared at Feng Yi.
“The mountainside collapsed just the day before yesterday. How cursed—why did that bastard Zhang Han have to target our family? But truly, our family didn’t directly send people into the mountain. The estate at Meiting Wharf is something my father was set on renovating—my father personally oversaw the matter. How could he possibly have sent people to do such a thing?” Feng Yi said.
Han Qian sighed quietly to himself. Feng Wenlan wouldn’t have needed to directly send people to secretly cut trees from Jiming Mountain, but he most likely knew about it.
And criminal investigation efficiency in this era was far less effective than in later times. The mountainside had only collapsed and killed people the day before yesterday, yet just three days later Zhang Han was already pointing his spear directly at the Feng family. This indicated that a pair of eyes had long been hidden in the shadows watching the Feng family, just waiting for them to make a bigger mistake!
Having served as an official for half his life, Feng Wenlan understood Emperor Tianyou’s nature more deeply. He probably saw this possibility, which was why he was so panicked, wasn’t it?
If Emperor Tianyou was determined to use this matter to move against the Feng family, Han Qian didn’t think he would have any good outcome if he got involved. Breathing a sigh of relief, he said to Feng Yi, “Although the southern slope of Jiming Mountain is where His Majesty is currently building his imperial tomb, as long as your Feng family didn’t directly send people into the mountain to log, how could the mountainside collapse and deaths possibly implicate your family? It’s so late, and I really must rush to complete a memorial for His Highness. Why don’t you two return first, and I’ll see if I have time tomorrow before noon to make a trip to Meiting Wharf.”
No matter what Feng Yi said, Han Qian was determined not to go around to Meiting Wharf west of the city late at night to see Feng Wenlan.
He himself had already received a warning from Emperor Tianyou. Keeping to himself wasn’t enough—how could he dare get involved in the Feng family’s affairs? In the end, after much coaxing and persuading, he sent Feng Yi and Kong Xirong away.
Feng Yi and Kong Xirong, escorted by several household soldiers, disappeared into the depths of the night. Han Qian gazed at the deep night, his brows furrowed like mountains, then turned to Old Zhao and said, “Wake up Wuji and the others to accompany me into the city!”
“Enter the city at this hour?” The city gates had long been closed. Entering the city now would require who knows how much trouble. Old Zhao asked in puzzlement.
“Yes.” Han Qian feared that Feng Yi and Kong Xirong might come looking for him again first thing tomorrow morning. Only by entering the city now and hiding in the Prince’s Manor first thing tomorrow could he avoid having to coldly refuse Feng Yi and Kong Xirong. He urged Old Zhao to quickly wake people up, then said to Zhao Ting’er and Xi Ren, “You two come back to Lanting Lane with me as well.”
Zhao Ting’er asked doubtfully:
“Would His Majesty really move against the Feng family over such a matter? Might you be reacting a bit too sensitively, young master?”
“It’s not that I’m reacting sensitively—it’s that Feng Wenlan is so alarmed and flustered that I dare not help but overthink! And the matter may not be as simple as just moving against the Feng family. Think about it—if it were merely about moving against the Feng family, why would Feng Wenlan be so desperate as to seek aid from a junior like me?” Han Qian sighed softly and said, “Now I fear that what Feng Wenlan has privately discovered about the consequences is far more serious than this, which is why he’s trying to drag me into it!”
“Could they possibly charge the Feng family with treason?” Xi Ren said disdainfully.
Han Qian saw that the two women still lacked a deep understanding of Emperor Tianyou. Come to think of it, how could it be otherwise? Emperor Tianyou had risen from the Jianghuai region and established such a great enterprise—how could he use such a losing strategy? But to their questioning, he merely said lightly, “Since it involves the imperial tomb, a treason charge isn’t necessarily impossible.”
Han Qian thought that Feng Wenlan had once served in the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, and afterward some departments of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices had been merged into the Internal Affairs Bureau. Perhaps someone close to Emperor Tianyou, remembering old ties with Feng Wenlan, had tipped him off.
“The Feng family is already cautious enough. Among all those wolves and tigers at court, I see the Feng family as the most harmless. Why would they pin a treason charge on them? Has Emperor Tianyou gone senile?” Xi Ren asked, not understanding.
Han Qian said, “It’s precisely because the Feng family is harmless yet fat!”