The Petition Drum’s morning toll had startled half of Biandu, and compounded by the sight of scholars kneeling immovably in the morning court that very day, Song Lan had no choice but to relent temporarily and allow the Ministry of Justice and the Supreme Court to investigate the drum-striking.

Under the watchful eyes of the court officials, Song Lan did not send Qiu Xueyu to the Zhuque but temporarily transferred her to the Ministry of Justice.

He spoke evasively, saying only that the investigation concerned the ‘drum-striking’ and said not a word about retrying the old Thorn-the-Begonia Case. After the court dispersed, Ye Tingyan and Chang Zhao were detained behind, and the Emperor asked them both how to proceed.

Song Lan turned the archer’s ring in his hand, thinking about how Ye Tingyan had raised the matter of Qiu Xueyu’s identity during the morning court. Having that exposed in the hall could certainly put her in an awkward position, but it could also be construed as preempting any future complications.

At the beginning of the year, he had elevated this man from the northern frontier and heaped favor upon him, and Ye Tingyan had not disappointed him — he had helped resolve many matters that could not see the light of day.

Though a trusted minister, from the moment Ye Tingyan had opened his mouth to plead on behalf of the three Lin clans, Song Lan realized he truly had no way of gauging the depth of this man’s intentions.

If he were wholly devoted to seeking subordination, would he do something that so clearly ran against his wishes?

Was the plea for clemency a way of winning goodwill among subordinates — laying the groundwork for his own future?

Chang Zhao sat in silence. Ye Tingyan waited patiently for a while, and just as Song Lan was beginning to show a trace of impatience, he cleared his throat and said with unhurried deliberation: “In this subject’s view…”

“Your Majesty chose not to open a formal case in the morning court — it was simply to avoid having to retry the old case, for fear some flaw might emerge. But with the Jingqiu Remonstrance preceding it and public opinion in Biandu following close behind, being overly cautious would only look like having something to hide. In this subject’s assessment, this woman dared to strike the drum and make accusations because she must be acting on someone’s instructions. If Your Majesty opens a case you will have to retry; if you do not, you risk damage to your reputation — you are caught in a dilemma no matter how you choose. And that… is precisely the purpose of whoever is pulling the strings. Whichever way Your Majesty decides, it makes no difference.”

Chang Zhao glanced at him sideways with a hint of surprise, then said: “Lord Ye is right.”

He continued: “And so, Your Majesty might as well turn the situation to your own advantage.”

Song Lan tapped the desk twice. “Ping-nian means — the old trick again?”

Chang Zhao said, “Precisely. They want a retrial — let them retry. They want to clear the names of Liu, Zuo, and Yang — Your Majesty may as well follow their wishes and restore the posthumous honor of those three dead men. As for who the true culprit actually is, naturally that will be whoever Your Majesty wishes it to be.”

Having said his piece, he looked across at Ye Tingyan, waiting for him to argue against it. But Ye Tingyan only looked at him deeply for a long moment, said nothing further, and made no response.

Song Lan asked: “What is Tingyan’s view?”

Ye Tingyan pressed his lips together and finally answered only: “This subject has no objection.”

* * *

In a mere three days, news of the Thorn-the-Begonia Case being retried had flown to every corner of every street and alley. Along with it, the previously desolate Tinga Terrace became a place of clamoring crowds once more. The stone stele reading ‘Slab Erected in the Year of Gengzi to Commemorate the Suppression of the Rebel Students’ still stood there — and everyone was curious: what would the outcome of this great case’s retrial be?

The Ministry of Justice had held its first public hearing today. The physical evidence Qiu Xueyu had submitted was a letter written by Crown Prince Chengming to Liu Fuliang in those years — a response to Liu Fuliang’s examination essay, in which Liu had given thanks for the Crown Prince’s eradication of the ‘Sacrifice-and-Kill’ cult. There were also witness testimonies from Liu Fuliang’s former neighbors, who all attested that Liu Fuliang’s father had died at the hands of that very cult, and that Liu had in his examination essay condemned it as absurd and criminal — making it absolutely impossible that he could have been one of its followers.

The Ministry of Justice had invited six eminent scholars, gathered every piece of Crown Prince Chengming’s handwriting from his earlier years, and spent an entire day in comparison. All six were able to state with certainty that the letter had undeniably been written by the Crown Prince himself, and that there was not even a possibility of forgery.

With the physical and witness evidence not yet fully presented, the Ministry of Justice was compelled to schedule another hearing.

If things continued in this direction, then the ‘Rebel Students’ stele and the kneeling stone statues were both reduced to a joke. If the three men were falsely accused, then what of the more than one thousand people implicated along with them? And was the conspiracy of the five princes also false?

Such language would naturally never find its way into the imperial city.

Luowei was preparing to go out — it was nighttime.

Though the first month had not yet ended, the weather already carried a hint of warming. The day had been clear and bright, and lying in the courtyard of the residence one could glimpse the brilliant night sky.

Going outside, she found Ye Tingyan standing in the garden wrapped in a quilt, gazing up at the sky. She walked over and stood beside him, saying lightly: “It has not rained in Biandu for a long time.”

Ye Tingyan said, “In winter, what falls naturally is snow.”

“I remember —”

“I remember…”

The two looked at each other and smiled. Ye Tingyan said, “You go first.”

Luowei said, “I remember when I confronted Yu Qiushi at the Xiuqing Temple, he said: this is a great downpour, and no matter how carefully you and I tread, we cannot avoid being soaked through.”

Ye Tingyan smiled faintly. “The great rain of the first month of the third year of Tianshuo… Yet I think that this great rain did not begin in that year. It came earlier, and more violently, while neither you nor I knew anything of it.”

Luowei reached up a hand before her eyes, shielding out the gleaming stretch of the Milky Way.

“Having come this far — with the river of heaven pouring down in reverse — it seems there is nothing left to fear.”

She turned her head and softly kissed the corner of his lips, leaving behind a faint scent of roses. Ye Tingyan stood where he was without moving, and only when she had reached the door did he say quietly: “Take every care.”

* * *

It was a day off, and the weather was clear and bright. The Fengle Tower was extraordinarily lively, with music and singing filling every corner. Luowei had styled her hair in the manner of an unmarried woman, and with the wide-brimmed hat she wore, she attracted no particular notice. The serving boy recognized the regular customer’s token in her hand and led her up to the top floor with practiced ease.

The private room where Luowei and Su Shiyu were to meet was called ‘Rainy Bells.’ She pushed the door open, removed her hat, and saw Su Shiyu sitting calmly in the room, tea in hand. “Elder Brother.”

Su Shiyu sat without moving and only gave a nod: “Sit.”

Luowei sat as he said.

From childhood to adulthood, her relationship with her elder brother had always been one of quiet distance. Su Shiyu was a child Su Zhoudou had taken in during the year when refugees flooded into the capital — when he entered the household he was already old enough to understand the world.

Luowei had been in the carefree bliss of youth at that time, going to the palace every day to study and chase butterflies with Song Yaofeng, and had little time to spend with this elder brother who was always so reserved and quiet, pale and slightly built.

Later, when Fang Hezhi opened his academy in Xuzhou, Su Shiyu — citing his frail constitution and inability to travel far — also gave that opportunity to her.

That was the first time Luowei had grown close to her elder brother. She had burst into his study to find him sitting by the window, playing the zither.

She had listened to the entire piece before speaking in a properly respectful manner: “Elder Brother, though you and I have seen each other little since childhood, in my heart I have always thought of you as my own brother. You need not give such an opportunity to me out of consideration for Father’s feelings.”

Su Shiyu seemed somewhat surprised. He stared at her for a moment, then suddenly smiled and reached out to pat her on the head: “Weiwei, you need not worry needlessly — I truly have caught a chill and cannot travel far.”

Luowei sat with her eyes lowered, recalling that trifling little memory, and was just about to say something when she heard a languid voice from one side of the private room: “Your Highness the Empress, it has been a long time.”

At that voice, Luowei’s whole body tensed in sudden alarm.

She turned to see Chang Zhao lighting a candle at his side, letting himself fall into a pool of candlelight. He raised his eyelids and looked over at her with a playful expression she rarely saw on him.

The instant she saw him, Luowei got up and moved toward the door. Her hand had just reached the doorframe when she heard the soft, layered sounds of sword-drawing from just outside.

She stood in place for a good long while before turning back. Her first glance was not at Chang Zhao, but at Su Shiyu. “Elder Brother, we have met so many times — why did you have to wait until today to make your move?”

Su Shiyu raised his teacup and inhaled its aroma, then answered calmly: “If I could not be certain you came to meet me completely without suspicion, how would I dare let Lord Chang make his move?”

Luowei gave a cold laugh. “So Elder Brother truly despises me. Since that is so, why did you bother pretending back then and saying it was all your own wish?”

“Luowei…” Su Shiyu set down his teacup and sighed. “From the moment you and I came to know each other in this way, this day was fated to come. Though Minister Su took me in, when all is said and done, you are his blood kin. I live beneath the shelter of your family’s protection — how could I contend with you for anything? When you wanted to go to Xuzhou, of course I had to give way; when you became Empress, of course I had to keep my distance. I do bear feelings of gratitude toward the Minister, but must I throw away my entire life for old favors?”

He smiled faintly. Luowei caught in his expression a flicker of how Su Zhoudou had looked in years past — it was gone in an instant.

“Even Elder Brother can feel resentment,” Su Shiyu said.

“And besides, when have you ever truly trusted me? All these years, have you not used me as nothing more than a convenient tool? You ordered me to do things for you, but you never told me why you acted as you did. You paid no heed to my thoughts, nor did you know what I was seeking. Laughable as it is to say — we could never really be family after all.”

Chang Zhao clapped his hands slowly from the side and sighed: “It is indeed fortunate that His Majesty has a discerning eye — when he first met young Lord Su after Your Highness disappeared, he could see the accumulated resentment in him. I turned the situation to my advantage and waited patiently in ambush for so long — and today I have finally caught Your Highness.”

Luowei paid him no attention and kept her eyes fixed on Su Shiyu: “What have they promised you?”

Su Shiyu shook his head: “Nothing more than what I should have had.”

Luowei pressed on: “Does Elder Brother truly feel it is worth it?”

Seeing Su Shiyu stay silent, Chang Zhao said: “At this point, why not be honest with Her Highness, dear friend? In truth, at the outset, His Majesty had not convinced young Lord Su — it was only when I went to his home and sat over wine that I managed to draw out his true words. The person he holds dear is still within the palace. If young Lord Su could not serve His Majesty, how could he protect her life?”

“Ping-nian,” Su Shiyu suddenly spoke up and called out, a flash of pain in his eyes, his tone a clear rebuke. “Mind your words.”

Luowei then turned to look at Chang Zhao: “Lord Chang actually has that kind of ability? The ability to protect the Noble Consort’s life?”

Chang Zhao said: “Though this subject has little talent, I do enjoy His Majesty’s deep trust and regard. Such a small matter is still something I can manage.”

Su Shiyu’s chest rose and fell twice, as though steadying his composure. After a long while he said: “You should have noticed long ago — back then, when Qiu Xueyu rode out alone from the Mochun Field, do you think it was some accident who let that information slip? Your Highness, when you use people, you always rely on those hazy old bonds of feeling. How can sentiment compare to self-interest?”

Luowei was taken aback. She burst out in anger: “It was you!”

Chang Zhao, seeing this confrontation between the two of them come to a head, finally deigned to rise, and carrying the candle stand, he came closer, walking slowly and with great composure. “Your Highness need not be angry. The night is long — why not come with me back to the Zhuque? I imagine not only I, but even His Majesty has been longing for a good talk with Your Highness.”

Before his words had quite finished, a strange sound came. From somewhere in the void outside, an arrow flew in, shattering through the window, and pierced straight through the candle in his hand before embedding itself in the wall — barring his path.

The candle flame was extinguished by that sudden arrow. It instantly plunged Chang Zhao’s face into complete darkness.

Luowei had at some point stripped the anger from her expression and replaced it with his own earlier playful look, and said with perfect ease: “Elder Brother said quite a lot just now — but there was one thing he said that was correct: if I couldn’t be certain there was no suspicion in the air, why would I dare make my move? From the very beginning, I never trusted him either.”

She reached out and took the candle stand from Chang Zhao’s hand, gave Su Shiyu one glance, and said: “Lord Chang — I have met with Elder Brother so many times, and it took all this effort to draw you out at last. Won’t you send them all away and have a proper conversation with me?”