Early May.

In the capital, Master Zhao, a wealthy household, was marrying off his youngest daughter.

This Master Zhao was a former cabinet minister who, despite his longstanding rivalry with Deng Yi, grew weary after Deng Yi’s downfall and simply retired alongside him, becoming a man of leisure.

He and Zhang Zhanchun were close friends for many years. When he heard about Zhang Zhanchun’s imprisonment, he was so angry that he initially refused to proceed with his daughter’s marriage. It took several visits from the groom’s family and their earnest persuasion before he finally agreed to hold the wedding.

Fearing that the stubborn old man might change his mind at the last moment, the groom’s family distributed invitations widely, inviting every official in the capital with whom they had any connection. Yang Lun originally didn’t want to attend because of Zhang Zhanchun’s situation, but since his wife was close friends with the groom’s mother, he had no choice but to go and socialize, sitting among the crowd drinking sullenly. The Hanlin Academy scholars typically clustered with those from the Six Offices, and seeing Yang Lun sitting in the corner, they gradually gathered around him. Among them were several Donglin Party members, sharp-tongued and arrogant, becoming even more unrestrained after a drink or two.

“Although the case has been sent to the Three Judicial Offices, the investigation is moving too slowly.”

Someone nearby remarked frivolously: “Slow? The Imperial City took forty-some years to build, shouldn’t this Imperial City case take forty-some years to investigate?”

Yang Lun used to enjoy mixing with these people, but after witnessing what Deng Ying and Zhang Zhanchun endured in the Ministry of Justice, he had lost his taste for such politically motivated but heartless mockery.

After two generations of the Ming Dynasty, the verbal battles between civil officials had grown increasingly fierce, losing their nature as genuine debates and sometimes degenerating into mere partisan squabbles. Yang Lun had heard this view more than once from Deng Ying and had asked if this was why he was reluctant to stay in the Hanlin Academy.

Deng Ying hadn’t denied it at the time, and Yang Lun had thought his perspective too detached, unbecoming of a scholar’s ambition to govern the state. But now, hearing these young officials’ “wild talk,” he couldn’t help but slam down his wine cup with a “bang.”

The chatter ceased at the sound of the thrown cup.

Xiao Wen turned around, saw the cup shattered on the ground, and hurried over, lowering her voice: “What’s wrong with you? This is someone’s wedding banquet!”

Yang Lun rubbed his temples, “I’m a bit drunk, my hand slipped. I’ll go outside for some air.”

Xiao Wen grabbed him, “Wait, Chief Eunuch Hu from the Directorate of Ceremonial is here today. Mother has a package for our Wan’er, and you know we can’t privately send things into the palace. Who knows when it will reach her through official channels? With Chief Hu here, why not ask him for this favor?”

Yang Lun glanced at the package she had placed on the chair.

“Why should I ask him for any favors?”

Xiao Wen said, “Since both our girls entered the palace, I’ve watched Mother’s health decline. She spent all spring making this Artemisia pillow, even having to rest for half a month when she couldn’t continue. She only pressed on because she remembered Wan’er’s neck often aches. If you don’t ask, then dispose of it yourself – I certainly wouldn’t dare take it back to Mother.”

Yang Lun, softened by her gentle but pointed words, actually stood up.

But before he could pick up the package, two or three servants in festive attire came rushing out from the back hall in panic. The attendants outside hurried to meet them, asking, “What’s wrong?”

The servant was too panicked to lower his voice, and many guests heard him say: “Master Zhao is coughing up blood in the back. He’s passed out now, and we don’t know if he’ll – what should we do about all this upfront?”

The managing servant also panicked, quickly ordering the musicians to stop and turning to report to his masters.

Xiao Wen walked to Yang Lun’s side and tugged his sleeve, “What happened? Why did the music stop?”

Yang Lun shook his head, “Not sure, seems something happened to old Master Zhao in the back hall. You sit back down, I’ll go look and come back.”

Just as he was about to leave, a Supervising Secretary behind him shouted: “Zhang has died in prison!”

The crowd first froze, then erupted in chaos.

Yang Lun stumbled, nearly falling.

Xiao Wen quickly steadied him, “Husband, you’re frightening me.”

Yang Lun’s mind was in chaos, with only one thing clear – Deng Ying’s words when he knelt before Bai Huan: “The Directorate of Ceremonial will set a death trap for Teacher!”

He finally understood what “testing it with my life” meant.

“Husband… Husband!”

As Xiao Wen called to him in panic, Yang Lun snapped back to awareness and broke free, walking to Hu Xiang, “What did you do?”

Hu Xiang stood up, “What is Lord Yang asking about?”

Yang Lun struggled to control his voice, “How did Master Zhang die?”

Hu Xiang coldly replied, “The man was in the Ministry of Justice prison, why are you asking me?”

Yang Lun said through gritted teeth, “The Ministry never used torture!”

“Then he was old!”

Hu Xiang’s voice suddenly rose, “He was old! Useless! So he died!”

These words instantly enraged the young officials present. They surged forward, hurling abuse. Some became so heated they started fighting with Hu Xiang, who as a eunuch could hardly withstand such treatment. Soon his face was bruised and swollen.

Yang Lun had been stunned by anger, and by the time he came to his senses, Hu Xiang had already crawled under a table in desperation.

He quickly moved to pull back the most aggressive attackers, “Everyone stops!”

Hu Xiang emerged from under the table, holding his nose and pointing unsteadily at Yang Lun, “You all causing such trouble… not showing any respect for His Majesty… sooner or later… sooner or later… something terrible will happen.”

Yang Lun shouted, “Shut your mouth! When you behave, we politely call you ‘Sir,’ but you’re still just a slave. Even if you’re beaten, it has nothing to do with His Majesty. Now get out!”

Hu Xiang understood that though these words were harsh, they also allowed him to escape. He quickly took the order to “get out” and fled the wedding hall in disgrace.

The news came from the back hall that old Master Zhao had died from coughing blood. The servants were in chaos, with crying and cursing echoing from inside and outside. Master Zhao’s daughter, still in her wedding dress, hair disheveled, rushed to the back hall wailing. The entire wedding hall instantly became a scene of devastation.

Several Donglin Party officials were already cursing and preparing to jointly submit a memorial denouncing the Directorate of Ceremonial for abusing power and murder.

Yang Lun stood among them and shouted in exasperation, “Can everyone please refrain from hasty joint petitions? Wait until after the Cabinet and Three Judicial Offices complete their investigation!”

“Can we trust your Cabinet?”

Someone challenged, “How long have the Three Judicial Offices been investigating this case? When they interrogated Deng Ying, we heard they tied him up and beat him with a rod. Lord Yang, we won’t mention your close friendship as fellow students, but how could the Censorate officials stomach this? Now the eunuch escapes unscathed while Master Zhang dies tragically? How can you expect us to accept this?”

“I…”

Yang Lun suddenly remembered Yang Wan pulling him aside at the Gate of Supreme Harmony, saying, “Stop investigating this matter.”

Connecting it to the current situation, he felt a wave of regret.

At that moment in the palace, Yang Wan was copying documents in the Department of Imperial Ceremonials.

The daylight was dim, and just as she was about to look for a candle, Song Qingyun rushed in and asked her, “Do you remember where we kept that medicine for injuries that Lady Jiang had?”

Yang Wan pointed to a red wooden box nearby, “I think it’s in there.”

“Ah, good.”

Song Qingyun quickly rolled up her sleeves and began searching the box. Yang Wan went to help her look, asking, “Did Chen Hua get hurt, or was it Li Yu?”

Song Qingyun replied, “Neither. It’s Chief Secretary Eunuch Hu from the Directorate of Ceremonial. He was beaten outside the palace. Li Yu’s godfather heard we had some good medicine for wounds in the Department and came to ask for it. Considering how good he’s been to Li Yu, I thought I’d help find it.”

“He was beaten?”

“Yes. Haven’t you heard?”

Yang Wan shook her head, “I’ve been copying all day and haven’t finished yet. Oh, is this the bottle?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

Song Qingyun took the medicine and headed out. Yang Wan quickly followed, “You haven’t finished telling me – why was he beaten?”

Song Qingyun answered while walking, “I don’t really understand these outside matters, but Master Zhang died in the Ministry of Justice prison. They’re all saying it was murder to silence him…”

Before she could finish, a stern female voice came from behind.

“Do you two have a death wish?”

Yang Wan turned to see Lady Jiang standing by the medicine box.

“Qingyun, go deliver the medicine first.”

Then she walked toward Yang Wan, “Have you finished copying the documents?”

Yang Wan replied quietly, “Not yet.”

“Yang Wan, you absolutely must not go see Deng Ying today.”

“I…”

Lady Jiang cut her off, “You’ve always been intelligent. Do I need to explain why?”

Yang Wan silently lowered her head.

Lady Jiang softened her tone slightly, “After you finish copying the documents, return to Chengqian Palace and attend to Consort Ning. Remember, you’re a palace lady. It’s fine to be kind to a eunuch, but if that person is deeply involved in court affairs, protect yourself first when the situation is unclear.”

“I understand, Lady Jiang.”

Seeing her compliance, Lady Jiang sighed.

“Go on. Finish copying the documents. The candle is on the windowsill, light it yourself.”

Yang Wan returned to her desk and rolled up her sleeves.

The characters on the desk gradually became blurry before her eyes. She took out her notebook from her robes and opened it.

Under Zhang Zhanchun’s name, she had already written a detailed record, leaving only a blank space after the words “died on.”

This day was the second of May.

Yang Wan held her brush in silence for a long while before finally writing to complete that blank space.

Raising her head after writing, she suddenly felt dazed.

The only elder who truly cared for Deng Ying was gone.

Two months remained until autumn of the twelfth year of Zhenning.

After hearing about Hu Xiang being beaten, her historical sensitivity suddenly helped her almost understand the connection between this blank space and the Tongjia Tragedy.

So before he truly stepped between the Directorate of Ceremonial and the Cabinet, he had lost so much.

Yang Wan closed her notebook and looked out the window.

The clouds hung low, with birds flying about in panic.

“Don’t be too sad, and don’t blame yourself too much…”

She repeated these words to herself, yet found she couldn’t believe them either.