Luowei walked a few steps along the covered corridor beneath the eaves.

The chamber where Ye Tingyan had been staying was one of the relatively clean palace rooms within the Western Garden, but the courtyard before the hall had been left untended for so long that it lay in ruin and neglect. With the light rain falling, the muddy ground would surely soil and dampen the hem of her skirt.

If her skirt were muddied, how could she return to the Crimson Platform to receive the obeisance of the assembled guests?

Luowei had no choice but to send someone to summon a carriage. Yet before the messenger had taken more than a few steps, a young eunuch came sprinting through the front gate in the rain and threw himself at her feet: “Your Highness, something has happened—”

Luowei looked down and recognized him as Liu Xi’s disciple.

Liu Xi was a man of strict bearing, and the disciples he trained tended to have composure as well. As someone who regularly attended before the Emperor, it was rare to see him in such a state of alarm.

Her heart sank, though her expression betrayed nothing. She simply asked, “What has happened?”

The young eunuch, breathless and gasping, replied: “Just now, Guard Lu Heng was ordered to go to the banquet hall to find a close friend of Lord Ye. He then came to the Western Garden accompanied by the Jintian Guard and that gentleman. But unexpectedly, a light rain began to fall, making the paths indistinct—the group took a wrong turn, and coming around a corner, they encountered… they ran headlong into…”

He swallowed hard and continued trembling: “…a palace maid who was wandering about in a daze and utterly beside herself. The maid was so badly frightened that she could barely string words together, only repeating over and over that she had looked into a certain well—and seen—seen a corpse!”

At these words, the surrounding palace attendants immediately dropped to their knees in a wave.

Even the maid holding the oilpaper parasol beneath the eaves set it down and knelt behind Luowei.

Although since being elevated to Empress, Luowei had spent far more time assisting the Emperor with state affairs than governing the inner palace, she had the means to discipline long-standing attendants and had won the goodwill of those above and below her. In the three years since, there had never been a serious incident within the Forbidden City.

Let alone a violent death that could be brought directly before the Empress herself.

Luowei’s eyes were downcast, her voice devoid of any emotion: “Continue.”

The young eunuch had no choice but to press on: “Because that Censorate official was present and absolutely insisted on following the maid to see for himself, he received quite a shock—so Guard Lu Heng had no option but to bring the Jintian Guard to seal off the Western Garden and report the matter to His Majesty and Your Highness. Since I walk quickly, I came ahead to inform you. His Majesty says that the officials gathered at the platform have already been disturbed—Your Highness need not return. His Majesty will come here himself shortly.”

Luowei heard this and gave a cold laugh: “Well then. It seems someone else has already taken charge within the Forbidden City.”

The young eunuch had not grasped her meaning and, frightened, dared not even lift his head, only begging forgiveness repeatedly.

Luowei glanced at him and sighed: “That will do. Rise.”

In truth, such incidents were not uncommon deep in the inner palace. What made today unusual was that an outside official had happened upon it—and of all people, one from the Censorate.

Once an outside official from the Censorate had witnessed it, Lu Heng had panicked and, in his confusion, first brought the Jintian Guard to seal off the Western Garden, then sent someone to inform both her and Song Lan.

Lu Heng thought he had handled the matter properly, but he did not know that today was unlike ordinary days—the banquet had gathered the finest minds in the realm, and his actions, combined with the earlier disturbance at the Crimson Platform, would surely alarm the officials of every rank gathered there.

Disorder in the inner palace invariably reflected a lack of virtue in the central consort. Should the Censorate official who had witnessed the incident be of a rigid disposition, a single memorial accusing her of failing to maintain order within her domain would bring trouble raining down upon her.

In other words: if the cause could not be uncovered, the rumors and gossip that followed would place all the blame squarely upon her shoulders alone.

Thinking more deeply—perhaps this affair… had been directed at her from the very start.

With so many coincidences piling atop one another, could this truly be a pure accident?

Luowei’s thoughts stirred, and she suddenly recalled those meaningful eyes of Ye Tingyan as he had lain upon the couch.

—Could this be his design?

His allegiances were unclear, his intentions uncertain. He spoke of serving Song Lan wholeheartedly, yet in private he had accepted her overtures, and when she sought to draw closer to probe his intentions, he fell silent and refused to speak. It was genuinely impossible to make an easy guess at his thoughts.

A man like this…

Yan Luo stepped forward and retrieved the oilpaper parasol that had been left lying to one side. A great wind was rising—if it was not collected soon, the parasol would likely be blown deep into the garden.

Luowei turned and happened to catch sight of the latticed window that had, at some unknown moment, been propped open again.

Taking advantage of the fact that no one else had yet arrived, she signaled to Yan Luo with her eyes and slipped back inside the hall.

Ye Tingyan had already composed his expression, erasing every trace of what had shown on his face moments before. He simply sat in his place and asked with a smile: “Why has Your Highness gone and returned?”

Having sat by the window, he must have heard every word of what had just been said outside—yet he asked as though he knew nothing.

Luowei had no wish to spar with him any further. She came straight to the point: “The gentleman you asked me to summon just now…”

Ye Tingyan replied: “His name is Pei Xi.”

Luowei adjusted her phrasing accordingly: “Young Lord Pei—what manner of person is he?”

Ye Tingyan repeated the question back: “What manner of person is he? Allow me to think. Young Lord Pei is somewhat younger than I am. He placed fifteenth in the third tier of the imperial examinations last year. He has served at the Censorate alongside me for only a few days, yet I can say with certainty that Young Lord Pei despises evil and upholds justice—he is a fine Censor.”

As he spoke, a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Luowei found herself distracted at an inopportune moment, reflecting that Ye Tingyan’s nature was in fact nothing like the detached, cold-mannered Confucian scholar he had appeared to be up on the platform—quite the contrary; he was genuinely a man who loved to smile.

A man who loved to smile, yet who could put on such an act of being overly attached to his scholarly garb, was all the more unsettling for it.

Seeing her silent, Ye Tingyan took the initiative and spoke first: “Does Your Highness believe this case has been directed at you?”

Luowei gave a noncommittal reply: “A death has occurred within the Forbidden City—that will always be accounted my fault in the end. I do not yet know whose soul has been wronged. Once I and His Majesty have investigated, I will answer His Lordship’s question then.”

Ye Tingyan said: “Perhaps I might be able to resolve Your Highness’s immediate difficulty?”

Luowei replied evenly: “Oh?”

Ye Tingyan made an effort to prop himself upright, sitting a little straighter: “Young Lord Pei is young and impetuous. I will persuade him to hand this matter over to me to handle. His Majesty wishes to make use of me, and I also need some opportunity to prove myself. Words alone carry no weight, and it is understandable that Your Highness would not trust me yet. When the time is right, I will request an audience with Your Highness—and I only hope that Your Highness will not treat me as a stranger, as you did when we met on the road just now.”

Luowei lifted her eyes and fixed her gaze upon him steadily; he met her gaze in kind. The standoff held until Yan Luo spoke from outside the latticed window: “Your Highness, His Majesty has already arrived at the Western Garden.”

So Luowei rose and departed without answering. Just before she left, her gaze swept casually over him, and she saw that Ye Tingyan still held the leaf she had dropped, turning it lightly between his fingers.

* * *

By the time Luowei arrived, Song Lan was already outside the palace courtyard where the incident had occurred, standing with Yu Qiushi. Heedless of the muddy water streaming across the ground, Luowei bowed in greeting the moment she saw him: “I have been remiss.”

Song Lan took the parasol from the hand of a palace attendant and helped her by the arm: “Please rise, Your Highness.”

To shelter from the rain, the group stood beneath the covered corridor.

Luowei gazed out into the misty, indistinct rainfall.

For fear of missing any detail, the body had not yet been drawn up from the mouth of the well. A strange fragrance pervaded the palace courtyard, completely masking the smell of the corpse—it was said that the palace maid had followed the unusual scent to the mouth of the well in the first place.

Song Lan frowned slightly, and before he could speak, Liu Xi stepped forward with perfect intuition and called out: “Where are the palace maids of the Western Garden? Step forward and give a full account!”

The duty supervisor had already summoned all the palace maids on watch that day. They knelt in a group not far away, with the young maid who had first seen the body and raised the alarm kneeling at the front.

Hearing Liu Xi’s reprimand, the young maid shuffled forward on her knees and kowtowed, trembling: “Long live His Majesty, long live Your Highness—I, I…”

She had every intention of speaking, but being young and far too frightened, she could barely form a coherent word.

Pei Xi, kneeling to one side, suddenly let out a quiet sigh and spoke up: “Your Majesty, the palace maid is timid. Perhaps it would be better if I gave the account.”

Song Lan had been observing the person before him; hearing him speak, he agreed: “Very well.”

And so Pei Xi cleared his throat and spoke in measured tones: “I am close friends with Lord Ye. Hearing that he had been injured, I followed Guard Lu Heng and another attendant to call on him—but the rain fell at an inconvenient time, the Western Garden lies overgrown and abandoned, and we lost our way. We were looking for someone to ask directions when we unexpectedly ran straight into this maid.”

The maid shuddered and said: “This servant was presumptuous…”

Pei Xi replied: “It is of no matter. I could see that the maid was in extreme distress, calling out that there was a ghost, which I felt to be inauspicious—so I detained her for the moment, had her explain in detail, and then followed her to this location.”

Yu Qiushi gave a murmur and asked doubtfully: “If that is the case, how did the Jintian Guard arrive so quickly—and so improperly? As a general rule, should the Jintian Guard not first report to His Majesty and Her Highness before mobilizing their men? When Guard Lu Heng came just now, I had assumed many scholars and officials had stumbled upon this—but looking at it now, the number of people seems rather small…”

Luowei understood the implication in Yu Qiushi’s words: had the Jintian Guard not taken matters into their own hands, this affair could have been kept far quieter.

The Jintian Guard had surrounded the Western Garden; the Emperor and Empress had both left the banquet together with the chief minister. Even if the assembled officials at the Crimson Platform did not know what had happened, they could guess that something had gone wrong within the inner palace.

Lu Heng broke out in a cold sweat. His legs gave way and he sank to his knees: “This servant begs Your Majesty’s forgiveness! It was this servant’s rashness—upon first hearing the news, fearing something had gone wrong, I hastily summoned my men.”

Song Lan fixed him with an icy look but did not bid him rise: “You have shown rather too much carelessness today.”

He turned to Pei Xi: “Continue.”

“Yes,” replied Pei Xi, his expression unchanged. “Following the palace maid to the Western Garden, I finally understood her account. It seems that while she was sweeping, she discovered that the lock on the gate of a certain sealed courtyard on the southern side of the Western Garden had been broken. She pushed the door open and caught a strange smell, whereupon she saw a corpse in the courtyard’s well. In her shock she fled through the door. The side of the courtyard happened to open onto the path where we had lost our way, so she had not run far before she ran into the rest of us.”

His speech was clear and methodical, laying out the sequence of events with admirable organization. Sure enough, before long after he had finished, Luowei heard Song Lan offer a word of praise: “You have something of a capable manner about you. Rise.”

Yet Pei Xi did not take his leave and rise. He remained kneeling and said: “This servant holds the post of Supervising Censor. Seeing this matter, this servant cannot remain uninvolved. If the inner palace cannot conduct a thorough investigation, this servant, in accordance with his duty, should memorialize against Her Highness the Empress for failing to maintain proper discipline within her domain.”

As he spoke, he bowed his head deeply to the ground.

Song Lan ordinarily found nothing more irritating than the constant interference of the Censorate officials, who inserted themselves into every matter. Had it not been for the presence of this Censor—and the fact that the affair had grown so conspicuous—he would not have needed to come here in person at all.

He had just been thinking that for once he had encountered someone with good sense. It turned out that this one, too, was unafraid of authority and heedless of occasion—as unyielding as a block of stone.

In that moment Song Lan felt a sharp headache coming on: “You are called—”

Luowei stepped forward and answered for him: “This Palace is aware of the matter. A satisfactory explanation will certainly be given to the Censorate within a few days. Young Lord Pei, please do rise.”

Pei Xi modestly got to his feet and replied without servility or presumption: “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Song Lan was determined to settle the matter quickly and called out: “Where is the Jintian Guard?”

Lu Heng hurriedly responded: “Your Majesty.”

“I will give you a chance to redeem yourself. This incident occurred within the inner palace. If Her Highness does not produce a satisfactory account, the Censorate is sure to make an uproar. You will assist Her Highness in the investigation together with the Office of Palace Attendants—and as for the Censorate—”

He paused here momentarily. Luowei could roughly guess what was in his mind, and so she ventured to speak: “Young Lord Pei is still young. In this servant’s view, it would be more fitting to have Lord Ye assist from the side. This servant asked the imperial physician just now—although he has cut into his own flesh, the tendons and bones are uninjured. Moreover, His Majesty has been intending for some time to have him remain in the palace to recuperate. As an outside official, this would ordinarily be improper—but if it were justified by the need to investigate a case, it would be quite acceptable for him to lodge at Qiong Ting during that time.”

Before Song Lan could respond, Pei Xi spoke up: “This servant has a separate matter to investigate with his superior in the coming days. What Her Highness proposes, this servant thinks, is an excellent arrangement.”

Song Lan found this perfectly in accordance with his own wishes and agreed without objection: “Then let it be so.”

Yu Qiushi, who had not said a word until now, glanced sidelong at Luowei and remarked in a low, drawn-out tone: “Your Highness must investigate the inner palace’s affairs with great care. During a grand banquet, the inner palace has produced this disgraceful incident—that is already a dereliction of virtue. If no result can be found, Your Highness…”

He had aimed at Ye Tingyan today and had been a touch hasty, losing the initiative. Now, having no excuse to intervene and block the matter, he could only take a few jabs at Luowei.

Luowei curved the corners of her lips and replied with cool indifference: “I thank the Grand Preceptor for his concern.”

Then she called out: “Lu Fengying.”

Lu Heng, still half-kneeling, responded: “Your Highness, this servant is here.”

“You were too rash today,” Luowei said, frowning. “After the Jintian Guard has questioned each of the Western Garden’s palace maids one by one, go and accept your punishment.”

She swept her gaze around the assembled group and gave her instructions: “The Office of Palace Attendants will hand the body over to the coroner for careful examination, then report back at Qionghua Hall. This place is not suitable for people to linger—the Jintian Guard will hold the gate of the Western Garden, which is to remain sealed for the time being. As for…”

Luowei’s gaze came to rest upon the palace maid huddled and trembling on the ground: “How old are you, and where are you from?”

The maid dared not raise her head but answered: “Your Highness, this servant is fifteen years old, from Yongzhou. I entered the palace in the first year of the Tianshi reign to serve. Previously I was in the Flower Hall, and was transferred to the Western Garden one year ago.”

“The first year of Tianshi…” Luowei repeated softly. “After this case is resolved, you will follow this Palace and come to Qionghua Hall.”

The maid had not expected such an outcome and kowtowed repeatedly in her delight: “Yes—thank you, Your Highness.”