Before setting out for Jingzhou, Zhu Yong first went to see Zheng Xia.

Although no one had paid attention when the Dragon Might Army finished presenting their case findings in court, when the Dragon Might Army moved a chest full of case files to the Ministry of Justice, the Ministry accepted it.

Because the case had not yet been officially closed, Zheng Xia had not left his cell.

“The conditions here are better than any prison I’ve ever stayed in,” Zheng Xia said with a smile to his old friend, lying on a wooden bed. “If not for these shackles and the guards outside the door, I’d think I was back in the place where we used to study together.”

Zhu Yong looked at the stacks of books piled by the bedside and found it somewhat amusing, though his laughter turned to sorrow. “You’re still thinking about reading?”

Zheng Xia propped himself up on one hand to sit up. “Ever since I was thrown in prison, I hadn’t looked at books again. After all this time, when they asked what I needed most, I immediately asked for books.”

Zhu Yong hurried to support him, examining Zheng Xia closely. The man had become so emaciated he was unrecognizable—if they had met outside, Zhu Yong wouldn’t have known him.

Zhu Yong’s gaze fell on Zheng Xia’s left hand—withered, stiff, and missing two fingers.

“Last time I saw you, everything was still fine.” His voice was hoarse with pain.

“Fine? It was already ruined. When I arrived here, that Commander Ding said that if I wanted to keep my arm, the damaged fingers had to be cut off.” Zheng Xia looked at his own left hand. “So cut them off—the hand was useless anyway.”

He then looked at Zhu Yong.

“But enough about that. What’s really going on? Why am I suddenly being retried?”

Although the case centered around him, he had been isolated in his cell, knowing nothing.

Zhu Yong explained what had happened. Zheng Xia listened with shock, his expression shifting constantly.

“So this time, it’s… luck?” he murmured softly.

He wanted to say it was good luck, but then again, it might not be good luck at all.

This was clearly being drawn into a power struggle between the Empress and court officials.

“Actually, someone like me—it wouldn’t matter if I died.” He raised his head to look at Zhu Yong, his eyes full of self-reproach and worry. “But you’ve been dragged into this too.”

Zhu Yong smiled. “It was my own choice. Besides, I’ve already requested the Empress’s permission to go to Jingzhou as an Imperial Commissioner to conclude this case.”

Zheng Xia sat up straight again in surprise. “Why would you do this? Although you’ve been implicated, if you resign and leave the capital, those powerful figures won’t pursue you relentlessly. Why are you actively jumping into this?”

Zhu Yong said, “Regardless of the Empress’s intentions, she has indeed overturned this wrongful case. I know what those people will do next—nothing more than smear the Empress’s reputation. So I’m going personally to explain to the people of Jingzhou, to let everyone know that while the Empress is interfering in politics, she is not creating chaos.”

Zheng Xia fell silent. They were inevitably drawn into this after all.

Zhu Yong stood up and said, “Besides, I’m also doing what you did.”

Zheng Xia was stunned. What he did?

“With all your learning, you were willing to spend more than ten years in Jingzhou as a lowly official taking orders, all to prevent students from having their futures ruined by corruption.” Zhu Yong looked at Zheng Xia with a smile. “Now it’s my turn to do the same.”

If Zheng Xia was willing to be mediocre, then Zhu Yong would be willing to have his reputation ruined.

……

……

Zhu Yong set out for Jingzhou, and officials from the Ministry of Justice and Ministry of Personnel also headed there, but the uproar in the capital did not stop because of this.

Various discussions arose around this matter.

“The Empress shouldn’t do this. How can she do such a thing?”

“Why can’t the Empress do this? Because she’s a woman?”

“Can women only use their lives to save the young prince, go to the border regions to fight enemies, force Prince Zhongshan to retreat, but not speak a single word in court?”

Men who had just opened their mouths in wine shops and teahouses were immediately refuted by women—and not just idle noble young ladies who spent their days eating, drinking, and playing, but street vendors carrying baskets, young women and wives, wine-serving women in shops and teahouses.

There was no help for it—Empress Chu had done too many things women weren’t supposed to do.

“It’s not about whether she can or can’t—it’s that what she did was wrong.”

“The court departments each have their duties. The Empress had the Dragon Might Army investigate the case. What is the Dragon Might Army? The Emperor’s Guard.”

“They’re not officers of the law, yet they can arrest anyone they want, break down doors, set up private prisons, use private torture to extract confessions.”

“If Zheng Xia’s wrongful case was someone abusing their power, isn’t what the Empress is doing also abusing power?”

Of course, this matter wouldn’t stop at debates about a woman’s identity. After a scholar in Confucian robes with a fine beard posed his questions, the young girls and bold women no longer dared or knew how to respond.

Imperial guards galloped through the streets. When people saw the python patterns on their robes, they hurriedly moved aside without needing to be told, their eyes filled with fear and dread.

In the common people’s eyes, the Dragon Robed Guards were no longer just the Emperor’s Guard.

Besides what they had witnessed themselves—the Dragon Robed Guards nearly fighting with the capital garrison—there were many private rumors describing how terribly Scholar Jiang was treated after being arrested, describing how the Dragon Robed Guards broke down doors and destroyed families in Jingzhou, even kicking aside the provincial governor. Whoever they said was guilty, was guilty.

“People are already using the Dragon Robed Guards to frighten children, saying if they don’t behave, the Dragon Robed Guards will take them away,” Qi Leyun said softly, her arms tied with cloth bands, gripping her arrow shaft.

In the water pavilion of the Imperial Garden, Chu Zhao was hosting an arrow-throwing competition.

Besides attending court, Chu Zhao regularly held banquets, inviting noble ladies—this was indeed what an Empress should do.

Once the Empress sent invitations, the noble ladies had to attend whether they wanted to or not.

After arriving, those unwilling to curry favor with the Empress sat still without moving. The Empress didn’t mind, going off to enjoy herself, naturally accompanied by those willing to join her. After all, even before becoming Empress, she had many companions.

Girlhood friendships held an inseparable bond that didn’t fade with changes in status.

Zhou Jiang threw her arrow, landing it firmly in the pot.

“This rumor is the most damaging,” she said. “Children don’t know how terrifying the Dragon Robed Guards are—they only know being taken away is scary. When everyone on every street uses this to coax children, even if the Dragon Robed Guards do nothing, they become villains used to stop children’s crying.”

Chu Tang leaned over slightly, asking Chu Zhao in a low voice, “Should I leave the capital first and move to the academy?”

Matters involving court affairs with court officials pulling strings behind the scenes couldn’t be countered just by these girls and Little Rabbit shouting a few words on the streets.

Chu Zhao smiled. “First beat me at this game.”

She threw her arrow, landing it firmly in the pot.

Chu Tang sighed helplessly. “I don’t know archery or martial arts—how could I compare with Your Majesty?”

Though she said this, she took the arrows the palace maids handed her and threw them into the pot with great interest.

Chu Zhao turned to look at the girls. “I know that accusations and slanders against the Dragon Robed Guards are everywhere now—” At this point she smiled. She now also followed others in calling the Dragon Might Army the “Dragon Robed Guards.” “The purpose is to slander me.”

She had known about these rumors long ago—knew even more, in fact. She even knew where some of the rumors came from.

All recorded in the register, but there was no need to break down doors and arrest everyone.

“Your Majesty,” Zhou Jiang suddenly asked, “why are you doing this? Do you think what you’re doing is right?”

This was an interrogation. The surrounding girls all jumped in shock.

No matter what, the current Chu Zhao was not the Chu Zhao of before—she was the Empress.

Even the straightforward Qi Leyun’s expression changed. Wasn’t this too direct? Asking like this—didn’t it mean she thought what the Empress did was wrong?

People who like chess think and act differently from others—

If Chu Zhao wanted to hit someone now, she probably wouldn’t need to do it herself—she had the Dragon Robed Guards. This thought flashed through Qi Leyun’s mind, and she instinctively looked around.

Chu Zhao’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, as if this were a simple question about who would throw next.

“Are you talking about the Zheng Xia case?” she said. “It’s very simple—because it’s a wrongful case.”

Zhou Jiang was momentarily stunned.

“I discovered there was a problem with this case,” Chu Zhao continued, taking an arrow from a palace maid. “And someone happened to cry out for justice, so naturally it had to be investigated. It’s that simple.”

While the other girls were still somewhat dazed, Zhou Jiang already showed understanding.

Not for seizing power, not for showing off might—simply because it was a wrongful case. She saw it, so she dealt with it.

“I cannot ignore someone crying out for justice.”

“Since I sit in court and watch over the realm, I cannot turn a blind eye.”

“As for whether what I’m doing is right or wrong—”

Chu Zhao looked at the bronze pot ahead, her smile fading.

“Don’t ask me. Rather, you should ask: why must I do this? Who is forcing me to do this?”

“And what I must do is only one thing.”

She threw her arrow, which landed firmly in the bronze pot.

“Investigate the wrongful case, clear the innocent, and ensure the guilty cannot escape.”

……

……

On a summer evening, sitting in the corridor to escape the heat, Old Master Zhou paused while holding his chess piece after listening to Zhou Jiang’s account.

“I see,” he said, then shook his head with a smile. “Truly acting as she pleases.” He murmured softly, “The heart of an emperor.”

Zhou Jiang placed a chess piece. “Grandfather, I told you—she just saw a wrongful case and had to deal with it. She wasn’t targeting the Grand Tutor and the others. Doing it this way, she had no choice. It was the Grand Tutor and the others who forced her to find another path. If you want to ask about right and wrong, ask the Grand Tutor.”

Old Master Zhou studied the board and smiled. “If you ask the Grand Tutor, he would naturally say they will investigate wrongful cases, but the Empress cannot overstep her bounds.”

“Rules, rules—what rules?” Zhou Jiang placed another piece. “Isn’t it just because the Empress is a woman? Rules are made by people, and the Empress is a person too. Who says she can’t redefine the rules?”

Old Master Zhou laughed heartily, then glared at the board. “Who gave you the rule to cheat while I was distracted!”

Zhou Jiang placed her final piece with a smile. “Anyway, I won.” She stood and ran off, lifting her skirt.

Old Master Zhou shook his head. The sons and nephews waiting outside the courtyard gate hurried in, asking how it went and what the Empress said.

The Empress regularly held banquets for noble ladies, which also served to help aristocratic families understand her through their wives.

“Little Jiang directly asked the Empress if what she was doing was right or wrong,” Old Master Zhou said.

This single sentence startled the sons and nephews.

“How could the child be so reckless?” “Even court officials don’t accuse the Empress, yet she questioned her.” “I said we shouldn’t have let her go.” “Will the Dragon Robed Guards come break down our doors too?”

Old Master Zhou tapped the chess board to silence them.

“The court officials don’t ask not because they don’t dare, but because they disdain to—they’re deliberately embarrassing the Empress,” he said. “What the Empress needs most right now is to be asked questions. Little Jiang asked well.”

The sons and nephews quieted down, understanding Old Master Zhou’s meaning.

“Father,” one asked, “do you mean you approve of the Empress’s actions?”

Old Master Zhou said, “It’s not about whether I approve or not.” He looked at them all. “It’s that the Empress’s actions were not wrong.”

“How can they not be—” The sons and nephews immediately spoke up in confusion. “Private guards—”

Old Master Zhou raised his voice: “Because she is the Empress, she is the sovereign.”

The sons and nephews fell silent.

Old Master Zhou lowered his voice and said slowly, “You, and so many others—have you forgotten that the Empress is also a ruler? And this Empress was entrusted by the Late Emperor and appointed to protect the nation and support the young Emperor. Don’t treat her as a woman. Think about it—when a sovereign acts, if it’s wrong, whose fault is it?”

The court officials had a common refrain:

“The fault lies with the ministers.”

“As court officials, if they don’t remonstrate, don’t speak, don’t act—what right do they have to say the sovereign is wrong?”

The sons and nephews sat in thoughtful silence.

So that’s how it is—

Similar scenes played out in many private courtyards, as wives and daughters recounted what they had seen and heard at the Empress’s banquet, while the men of the household held closed-door discussions.

Though these discussions wouldn’t spread to wine shops and teahouses to argue with people, they caused many to keep their mouths shut.

The indignant debates in wine shops and teahouses continued, but it felt like the kindling was somewhat damp and wouldn’t catch fire.

“No matter what, the Empress condoning the Dragon Robed Guards’ behavior is evil conduct—” A man slammed his hand on the table in a wine shop.

Some nearby echoed his sentiment.

Some kept their heads down pouring wine without speaking.

Some turned to look out the window: “The weather is nice today.”

Others simply put down their wine cups: “Third Master Xu, I came today to discuss business. If you don’t want to talk about it, we can meet another day, or have your elder brother come. You can continue with your important affairs.”

The indignant man felt both angry and stifled. He was already not favored at home, and had finally secured a silk business deal—he couldn’t hand it over to his elder brother again.

“How can a family of your standing not care about this matter?” he said with a frown. “What if the Dragon Robed Guards raid your shops and property—”

The man who had spoken earlier smiled. “Thank you for your concern, Third Master Xu. Our Xu family follows laws and regulations, doesn’t harm heaven or people, has a clear conscience, and fears nothing.”

What kind of talk was that—making it sound as if the Dragon Robed Guards had become champions of justice? Third Master Xu was about to say more when the man who had been looking out the window suddenly called out, “Look, there’s excitement outside—”

Excitement? What excitement?

Several men looked out the window, hearing commotion coming from the street.

“Come quick and see—Jingzhou has sent the Empress a huge umbrella—”

An umbrella?

From Jingzhou?

Sent to the Empress?

The men could no longer sit still. They all stood by the window looking down at the street.