Summer days dawned early. When Zhu Yong reached the palace gates, not many officials had arrived yet—just scattered groups of two or three.
Seeing Zhu Yong approach, everyone paused slightly.
Though they all attended court, not everyone knew everyone beforehand, especially an inconspicuous minor editor like Zhu Yong.
Now, after Zhu Yong’s proclamation in court that “the Empress is wise and sagacious,” everyone knew him.
As Zhu Yong walked over, all the officials shifted aside. Some were cold, some disgusted, some sneered.
“He actually has the face to come to court?”
“Why hasn’t he been dismissed and arrested yet?”
“He won’t be arrested. Instead, he’s enabled the Empress to arrest people everywhere.”
“We should worry about ourselves. Who knows when the Dragon Robe Guards will break down our doors.”
Zhu Yong stood alone in place, somewhat embarrassed. Actually, after the incident, he hadn’t attended court. He’d stayed home packing his luggage, dismissing his servants, waiting to be dismissed and driven from the capital or arrested. But he waited and waited, and no one ever came to his door—until several friends secretly came to deliver news.
“The Empress has practically gone mad trying to retry Zheng Xia’s case for you.”
Zheng Xia, who was supposed to be executed immediately, had been seized by the Dragon Robe Guards. The Dragon Robe Guards had burst into the Imperial Academy Chancellor’s home to arrest someone. The Dragon Robe Guards had fought with the Military Patrol Bureau and capital troops. The Grand Tutor and the Empress had also clashed in the inner palace—this was hearsay.
It wasn’t over yet. The Dragon Robe Guards went to Jingzhou. The Dragon Robe Guards arrested many people in Jingzhou. Jingzhou was in chaos—
Only then did Zhu Yong learn what had happened outside. Whether from excitement or fright, he trembled, but no matter how much he shook, he decided to leave his home and attend court.
The Empress had done such crazy things for him. He couldn’t cower at home and wait.
More and more officials arrived at the palace gates, all avoiding Zhu Yong. Countless gazes fixed on him. The low murmurs converged into a buzzing sound. All manner of harsh words could be clearly heard. Zhu Yong pretended not to hear, standing motionless in place. He saw colleagues and friends arrive, but they didn’t dare approach him either, only secretly exchanging glances.
The time for court finally arrived. Zhu Yong walked at the very back of the procession, silently entering the court hall, bowing to respectfully greet the Emperor and Empress. Everything was as before.
Court was as before, yet also not quite as before.
Zhu Yong stood at the back, hearing officials report: “Jingzhou city guards and Imperial Guards clashed, injuring ten people.” “Citizens of Jingzhou Commandery were frightened, rumors are spreading everywhere.” “The Jingzhou Administrator has submitted a memorial—”
The officials only reported. They didn’t question the Empress. Moreover, when the Empress spoke saying “This palace is aware of this matter—” they immediately fell silent as before.
The Empress seemed to be talking to herself, but she didn’t pause at all, finishing what she wanted to say.
The officials continued their silence until Deng Yi spoke. “This matter is the court’s fault. The Ministry of Personnel will select personnel today to go to Jingzhou to comfort the people and restore order.”
The officials responded in acknowledgment.
Zhu Yong listened with alarm. There seemed to be no argument, but the meaning expressed was more frightening than arguing. What the Grand Tutor would do next to comfort the people would also incite the people—the Empress’s reputation would suffer.
This so-called “restoring order”—the Grand Tutor’s side was “order,” the Empress was “chaos.”
He was accustomed to seeing this kind of framing and fanning of flames. Such methods were mostly used on officials, but now could also be used on an imperial person.
It would be one thing if an emperor’s reputation was bad, but the Empress was not the Emperor after all. If her reputation was truly ruined and popular resentment boiled over, the Grand Tutor had the authority to depose the Empress.
Zhu Yong stood at the back of the queue, his lowered hands trembling slightly.
That day—should he not have impulsively stepped forward?
Zheng Xia had already resigned himself to death.
He had also figured out how to look after Zheng Xia’s family.
Now with things like this, Zheng Xia was doomed to die, he was doomed to die, and no one would care for their families.
The officials in court began discussing new topics. The Empress said nothing more. Zhu Yong stood dazed and vacant. This time he was truly finished.
“Report—Dragon Might Army Commander Ding Chui and Adviser Yin Tong seek an audience with His Majesty.” A palace attendant’s loud call drowned out the sounds of court.
The hall fell quiet.
A Censor was stunned, then stepped forward to rebuke: “Do not make noise and interrupt court proceedings!” “The Dragon Might Army are not court officials and may not enter the hall.”
The palace attendant who had entered turned slightly pale. These high ministers restrained their tempers and didn’t scold the Empress to her face, but they didn’t need to be polite to palace attendants.
Never mind scolding—dragging them out and beating them was no problem.
“This is not interrupting court proceedings,” the Empress’s voice rang out. “They’ve come specifically for matters under discussion.”
The Censor paused, remembering what everyone had agreed upon—ignore the Empress’s words, act as if you hadn’t heard. So next he only needed to continue rebuking, ordering the attendant to “quickly withdraw—”
But the Empress moved one step faster than him.
“Summon them—”
The attendant who had been eager to leave immediately turned and rushed out of the great hall, calling loudly, “Summon them—”
Actually, there was no need to call loudly. Those two Dragon Might Army soldiers had been standing just outside the hall. As soon as the Empress’s voice rang out, they stepped inside.
Watching two Imperial Guards enter, still carrying weapons—these Dragon Might Army soldiers guarded the inner palace and didn’t need to surrender their weapons when entering the Imperial City. Thinking of the Dragon Robe Guards’ behavior these past days, the Censor thought for a moment—if he called for the hall guards to expel these two, they might witness Imperial Guards fighting inside the hall.
Too absurd.
Forget it, forget it.
No matter what they said, just ignore them.
Ding Dachui ignored the officials in their green, purple, and crimson robes in the hall, walking straight forward. “This subject was ordered to investigate the case of Jingzhou Regional Inspector Zheng Xia and has obtained results.”
Faster than expected. Chu Zhao said happily, “Good. Speak quickly.”
Ding Dachui stepped aside. What came next wasn’t his forte. Adviser Yin opened the box he was carrying, took out case files, and began his presentation.
“After reviewing case files, conducting investigations in Jingzhou Commandery, searching for relevant persons, we found the true criminal—Jingzhou Regional Inspector Chi Yu. Chi Yu has already confessed to everything.”
“These are the charges.”
He displayed them for everyone to see—Chi Yu’s handwriting, bright red fingerprints.
The hall fell completely silent. Just as when the Empress spoke, no one responded.
But it was also different from before. Quite a few officials’ expressions shifted, eyes exchanging glances, with some agitation.
Adviser Yin didn’t care about the lack of response. He took out documents one by one from the box, narrating the investigation process, interrogation records, and evidence. His slightly effeminate voice echoed through the hall, his tone without inflection, flowing like water past everyone’s ears.
Standing at the back of the queue, originally distracted and dazed, Zhu Yong gradually focused. He couldn’t help but lean forward to see. Not just him—officials standing in the back rows all swayed, looking forward.
The Jingzhou Regional Inspector had sold examination questions. Three examinees bought them, but one wasn’t very bright and was discovered by a scholar. Rather than placating him, they beat the scholar severely and threatened him. Unable to think straight and feeling wronged, the scholar left a letter written in blood hanging by a bridge and threw himself into the river in suicide.
After the matter blew up, the Jingzhou Regional Inspector naturally wouldn’t confess himself, making Zheng Xia the scapegoat.
“Chi Yu knew Zheng Xia could write with his left hand. During questioning, he instructed constables to break Zheng Xia’s left hand. This is the constables’ confession.”
“We found poetry and prose collections he left behind from the academy where Zheng Xia studied in his youth, which include left-handed writing. The left and right-handed writing are indeed different. This is physical evidence.”
“To convict Zheng Xia, Chi Yu sent the Imperial Academy Chancellor one hundred taels of gold. This is evidence of correspondence between the two.”
This case wasn’t complex. One could say it was very simple.
The only complexity was people.
Those who could buy examination questions were sons of Jingzhou’s prominent clan families, with convoluted connections to Jingzhou’s officials high and low.
The Regional Inspector who sold examination questions came from a distinguished family with an illustrious reputation.
And the Imperial Academy Chancellor need not even be mentioned—a high official far away in the capital. To him, a provincial scholar was as insignificant as an ant.
Government office constables wouldn’t carefully investigate them, much less dare to interrogate them.
So these people casually pushed with a wave of their hands, and Zheng Xia—this minor clerk from a humble background with no power or influence—was doomed to death.
“All criminals have now been brought to the capital awaiting judgment.”
Adviser Yin finished speaking, placing the last piece of physical evidence in the box, ending his presentation.
Chu Zhao looked at the box full of evidence and confessions, her expression dark yet carrying some mockery. “So that’s how it is. Say they treat this as a small matter—it involves rank evaluation, the sacred duty of education, corruption and fraud, a dead scholar. They know to sentence an official to death as a warning. Say it’s a big matter—everyone from top to bottom treats it as nothing, casually pushing someone to die—”
She withdrew her gaze to look at the officials in the hall.
“Commander Ding, hand over all the evidence and criminals you’ve investigated to the Ministry of Justice. Let the Ministry of Justice retry and deliver judgment.”
Ding Dachui acknowledged the order.
The Vice Minister of Justice remained silent, but then thought—was silence appropriate at this moment? Would silence indicate acceptance? Should he voice opposition? He couldn’t help but look toward the Grand Tutor.
Deng Yi didn’t look at him, only at everyone, saying, “Are there any other matters to present?”
Just as before, this was when officials in the hall should immediately respond with new topics.
“This subject—has a memorial to present.”
Someone called out loudly while stepping forward.
The officials in front looked at each other—they couldn’t see who had stepped forward. Looking at Deng Yi again, his gaze passed over them toward the back. The officials also turned to look back.
At the back of the queue, Zhu Yong stepped forward boldly, advancing several steps.
It’s him. The officials’ expressions changed.
Deng Yi looked at him. “What matter do you have?”
Zhu Yong didn’t look at Deng Yi, but toward the woman behind the dragon throne.
He bowed deeply. “This subject requests that the Empress appoint me as Imperial Censor to go to Jingzhou and work with the Ministry of Justice to conclude this case.”
As soon as these words left his mouth, it shocked the court ministers even more than when he had initially stepped forward to cry injustice.
If crying injustice for a friend was emotional impulse, then now—not saying “requesting His Majesty’s permission,” not using a vague request without specifying who, but clearly stating “requesting the Empress appoint”—
This was clearly pledging allegiance to the Empress, declaring he would only obey the Empress.
Has he gone mad?!
The hall couldn’t maintain its previous silent calm. Some commotion arose. Officials standing around Zhu Yong moved even further away.
Deng Yi looked at Zhu Yong, his expression wooden, saying nothing.
“Granted.” The Empress’s voice rang out clearly.
Zhu Yong thanked her and stood, looking at the woman on the dragon throne, calling out loudly, “This subject will certainly not fail the imperial grace.”
…
…
“This Zhu—”
The Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review was somewhat fat. Walking quickly to catch up with Deng Yi while speaking left him a bit breathless. The words reached his lips and he forgot what this person was called—he’d never paid attention to such officials before.
No family background, no prospects.
“Zhu Yong,” the Vice Minister of Revenue beside him reminded, hands tucked in his sleeves.
“Who cares what dog he is,” the Chief Justice said angrily. “Has he gone mad? If so, expel him immediately.”
Saying this, he turned to search.
“Where’s Academician Li? What’s he waiting for?”
The Hanlin Academician also had no qualifications to follow Deng Yi here—
“Send someone to find him. No—tell him to get lost too.”
Deng Yi, striding silently ahead, said, “No need to bother. He’s reached his wit’s end and can only turn to the Empress.”
That was true. Even if this case was cleared up, so what? With Zhu Yong’s servile fawning toward the Empress, he absolutely couldn’t remain in court.
For his career prospects, Zhu Yong could only turn to the Empress, hoping she could protect him.
“Even if the Empress protects him and lets him continue as an official, what use is it? A minor editor,” the Vice Minister of Personnel said with a light laugh from behind.
The Empress could let the Dragon Robe Guards run rampant, but she had no authority to confer official positions.
“Does she really expect this minor editor to also charge about the streets arresting and fighting people?”
Hearing this, everyone laughed.
“That would be even better,” the Chief Justice said coldly. “He hasn’t met the Late Emperor. He can’t invoke the Late Emperor’s orders. If he dares act recklessly, the Five City Military Patrol Bureau can beat him to death in the street.”
The officials laughed again.
Deng Yi said again, “Don’t bother with these small matters. Comforting the people is most urgent. The Empress’s chaotic behavior has disturbed the people’s hearts.”
The Vice Minister of Justice added with a cold laugh, “You may not know yet how the Empress conducted her investigation. The Jingzhou Regional Inspector’s legs were directly broken by the Dragon Robe Guards.”
The officials exclaimed.
“What kind of investigation is this? This is torture to extract confessions.”
“I heard Chancellor Jiang is locked in a secret prison. Forget visitation—no one even knows if he’s alive or dead.”
“What qualifications do they have to patrol and arrest? This has truly disrupted all protocols!”
Deng Yi stopped the officials’ clamor. “That’s why we must let Jingzhou’s officials and citizens know, let the world know—this matter has nothing to do with the court. It’s not that the Da Xia court has lost its protocols.”
The key to this matter wasn’t whether the case was unjust or not, but that even if it was unjust, it couldn’t be investigated like this.
The key to this matter was that the Empress had lost all protocols, disregarded the court, abused her authority, and acted willfully and recklessly.
This kind of Empress without protocols was common in history books. Those with good outcomes were deposed. Those with bad outcomes—granted death.
The officials understood and responded in acknowledgment.
Deng Yi stepped into the great hall, looking at the breakfast dishes sent by the imperial kitchen after morning court on the dining table, remaining silent for a moment.
Granting death wasn’t necessary. Deposition wasn’t quite called for either. Just have her return to the inner palace and stay there.
She shouldn’t have been holding court in the first place.
…
…
In the Grand Tutor’s hall, officials sat scattered about. Some held brushes, some pondered deeply, offering counsel and strategies.
The Chief Justice flipped through several documents. When a clerk came to serve tea, he accepted it. Thinking of something, he had the clerk summon Hanlin Academician Li. The Vice Minister of Personnel beside him heard this and frowned. “Why are you still fixated on that minor editor?”
The Chief Justice looked at the hall full of people. But even as large as the Grand Tutor’s hall was, it couldn’t compare to the court hall. No matter how many people, it wasn’t the full court of officials—there were still many officials throughout the court not present here—
He said quietly, “I’m not concerned about that minor editor. I’m worried others might learn from him.”
The Vice Minister of Personnel laughed heartily. “Really? I’d like to see who. Are the Xie family’s people unable to keep up the pretense?”
Since the Empress began interfering in governance, Xie Yanfang and his faction had remained completely silent, as if it had nothing to do with them.
“As if it has nothing to do with them,” the Vice Minister of Personnel said with a cold laugh. “They’re the Empress’s faction.”
Whether they spoke or not, either way they were. They were just waiting for them to jump out.
The Chief Justice touched his nose, wanting to say that minor editor wasn’t part of the Xie faction. But precisely because he wasn’t, he had reached his wit’s end. As for others in court, there weren’t many like him. They all had families, properties, reputations—no need to seek their own ruin.
He signaled the clerk to leave. No need to summon Academician Li after all.