Yang Lun claimed Zhang Zhanchun’s body from the Ministry of Justice prison.

Before the body was moved, Yang Lun personally examined it alongside the coroner.

For someone who died in prison, the clothing was intact with no external injuries or signs of poisoning. The coroner, who had clearly been instructed from above, only told Yang Lun that death was due to suffocation, explaining that Zhang Zhanchun was elderly with a lung condition and couldn’t withstand the prison’s damp stuffiness, leading to respiratory failure.

When Yang Lun tried to inquire further, the coroner fell silent.

Yang Lun knew he couldn’t get any more information at this point and had no choice but to have the body simply prepared and temporarily placed at Guangji Temple.

The monks deeply respected this renowned builder of the Imperial City. Even without Yang Lun saying anything, Abbot Yuan’an led the monks in performing several days of ceremonies for Zhang Zhanchun’s spiritual passage.

Zhang Zhanchun’s wife had already passed away, and his son was an official in Hainan, still traveling the long distance to attend the funeral.

However, after Master Zhao’s death from coughing blood and Hu Xiang being beaten at the wedding hall by young officials, although people were grief-stricken, few came to pay their respects at the temple.

The Supervising Secretaries of the Six Offices and young censors from the Censorate became embroiled in a chaotic war of words with the Directorate of Ceremonial that the Cabinet couldn’t control.

The officials came from various backgrounds, connected as teachers and students or fellow scholars.

These learned men, who had spent ten years in diligent study, gathered together and treated their memorials like examination essays, citing classics and historical precedents, using every cutting phrase to criticize the chief eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial. Soon memorials from various departments piled up at the Directorate before reaching the Emperor’s desk.

Bai Huan used this grand verbal assault to pressure Emperor Zhenning.

As a result, all draft responses were ambiguous statements.

Without the Cabinet’s input, the Emperor had to reply personally, and the conflict evolved into a battle of words between the Emperor himself and his civil officials.

There were hundreds of civil officials in the capital, young and with boundless energy.

The Emperor was just one person, and by the fourth day of this back-and-forth, Emperor Zhenning finally broke.

He swept the memorials off his desk onto the floor. Consort Ning’s hand paused as she trimmed a lamp, and all the eunuchs and palace maids in the Hall of Mental Cultivation fell to their knees.

Zheng Yuejia was on duty before the Emperor today, kneeling beside him.

The Emperor, in his rage, kicked him in the chest, sending him rolling back against the bookcase. His head struck the corner hard, drawing blood, but he dared not tend to it, crawling back to prostrate himself at the Emperor’s feet.

“This slave… deserves death.”

The Emperor shouted: “Your Directorate of Ceremonial claims everything is for me, eh? Serving me wholeheartedly?”

As he spoke, he grabbed a nearby memorial and threw it at Zheng Yuejia’s face. Zheng endured the punishment, not daring to move, only repeatedly saying while kneeling, “This slave deserves death, please calm your anger, Your Majesty.”

“If you deserve death, then die! Guards, take Zheng Yuejia to the Meridian Gate and beat him to death!”

Many of the palace eunuchs present had received favors from Zheng Yuejia. Hearing the words “beat to death,” they froze, and for a moment, no one moved to relay the order.

The Emperor’s fury peaked, “Did you not hear my command?”

The hall was silent until Consort Ning’s copper lamp trimmer suddenly fell to the ground with a “clang,” rolling to stop beside Zheng Yuejia’s knee.

The eunuchs standing by the door finally came to their senses and hurried out to relay the message to the Office of Careful Conduct.

The Emperor glanced at Consort Ning, seeing her standing frozen beneath the lamp, her entire body trembling slightly.

“Consort Ning?”

“Yes, I am here.”

The Emperor looked at Zheng Yuejia still kneeling at his feet, then back at Consort Ning, “What’s wrong?”

“My… hand shook.”

The Emperor lowered his voice, “I thought I had frightened you.”

While the Emperor’s head was raised, Zheng Yuejia slightly shook his head at Consort Ning.

She quickly avoided meeting his gaze and struggled to steady her voice, saying to the Emperor, “Let me brew you fresh hot tea.”

The Emperor had no mood for anything now, though his throat was indeed dry and sore, so he simply waved her away without further questions.

Consort Ning turned and walked into the inner hall. Heyu, seeing her deathly pale face, hurried forward to support her, asking, “What’s wrong, Your Grace?”

Consort Ning gripped her hand in return, “Where is Wan’er?”

Heyu replied, “Lady Yang… has been with us these past days, she should be waiting below the terrace of the Hall of Mental Cultivation.”

Consort Ning pressed her hand to her chest, her body shaking uncontrollably.

“Good… good… go ask her if there’s any way to save… save Secretary Zheng’s life.”

Heyu, having served in the palace for many years, was startled by this request.

“Your Grace, there’s no need for this.”

Consort Ning gripped Heyu’s wrist tightly, “Just go ask for me!”

Heyu had never seen Consort Ning in such a state and became frightened herself, quickly trying to calm her, “All right, Your Grace, don’t worry, I’ll go ask.”

Yang Wan was standing beneath the bronze crane statue at the Hall of Mental Cultivation. These past few days, she had secretly gone to the Hall of Supreme Harmony several times to see Deng Ying, but without letting him notice her. He remained silent but never stopped working. Under his leadership, the construction of the Hall of Supreme Harmony continued meticulously, and Yang Wan, watching from the shadows, witnessed the entire process of laying the glazed tile roof. He stood on the terrace, calmly directing the craftsmen and monitoring all the complex techniques, just as Yang Wan had said – he did everything with utmost dedication. Only when the craftsmen went to eat would he sit alone on the terrace, lost in thought.

He still hadn’t followed Yang Wan’s advice to eat properly and drink water.

But Yang Wan understood this was his way of punishing himself.

One shouldn’t be too clever, assuming they understand others’ hearts and rashly intervening.

Having spent nearly ten years in academia, experiencing various cold shoulders and setbacks, and having to start over repeatedly through ups and downs, Yang Wan had experienced much. She knew well that strong-willed people often prefer to rely on themselves for their initial struggles.

So she would always secretly ask Li Yu to slip him nuts before Deng Ying returned to his quarters, and to Yang Wan’s relief and joy, no matter how many nuts she sent each day, Deng Ying would eat them all by the next day.

Today when she went to deliver the nuts, she found the drawer where Deng Ying usually kept them was open. She took out the jar to add the new nuts she’d brought, and unexpectedly found a small wooden lotus flower carving inside. Though tiny, every petal’s texture was visible, and when Yang Wan held it in her hand for a closer look, she discovered the flower base even had a hole through it – it could serve as a bead for hanging on a jade pendant.

She quickly undid her jade pendant and threaded this lotus bead onto the hanging cord.

This response was restrained, but Yang Wan loved it so much that throughout the day, she couldn’t help touching the flower bead now and then.

Now she was standing with her eyes closed, fidgeting with the bead to pass the time, when she suddenly saw several people from the Office of Careful Conduct approach. She worried briefly about Consort Ning, but when she saw they were escorting Secretary Zheng Yuejia from the Directorate of Ceremonial, she didn’t think much of it.

However, shortly after, Heyu hurriedly came down from the terrace and, without waiting for Yang Wan to speak, pulled her behind it.

Seeing Heyu’s troubled expression, Yang Wan quickly asked, “What’s happened?”

Heyu looked outside to ensure no one was coming, then held Yang Wan’s hand and said, “Lady Yang, Her Grace asked me to ask if you have any way to save Lord Zheng.”

“Lord Zheng? What’s wrong with him?”

Heyu lowered her voice, “His Majesty has ordered him beaten to death.”

“Beaten to death? Why?”

“I don’t know. Today His Majesty spent two hours reviewing memorials, then suddenly became angry and called for the Office of Careful Conduct, saying to drag Lord Zheng to the Meridian Gate. When Her Grace heard this inside, she looked very distressed, her eyes even turned red.”

Yang Wan had no time to wonder why Consort Ning wanted her to save Zheng Yuejia, but she waved at Heyu, “Don’t panic, let me think for a moment.”

She turned around and lowered her head, recalling the events of the past few days.

Zhang Zhanchun’s death had sparked a “literary tide” in the capital. Yang Wan tried to gauge Bai Huan and others’ attitudes, guessing the Cabinet likely wasn’t siding with the Emperor this time. The Emperor, overwhelmed by the scholars’ pressure, suddenly vented his anger on the third-ranking official of the Directorate of Ceremonial, but this was an impulsive act without the Cabinet’s support. Killing Zheng Yuejia would indirectly acknowledge the Directorate’s guilt.

Realizing this, she quickly turned back, “Heyu.”

“I’m listening.”

“Go tell Her Grace to ask His Majesty: if Lord Zheng is executed today, what about Chief Hu tomorrow?”

Heyu hesitated, “Will… will just saying that save Lord Zheng?”

“Yes, ask Her Grace to try, but please remind her not to show red eyes when speaking. She is an Imperial Consort, and this is for His Majesty’s benefit.”

After saying this, she suddenly paused.

Yes, this was for His Majesty’s benefit, so why had Consort Ning’s eyes turned red earlier?

In her moment of revelation, Yang Wan recalled what Consort Ning had once told her: “Wan’er, don’t walk this path with that person in the palace, you won’t be happy.”

So…

“Wait, Heyu.”

She quickly ran several steps to catch up with Heyu.

Heyu turned around, “Do you have more messages for Her Grace?”

“Tell Her Grace that she must stay calm no matter what. Whether Lord Zheng can be saved depends entirely on whether His Majesty believes Her Grace truly has his interests at heart. She absolutely cannot let His Majesty feel she’s pleading for Lord Zheng, or not only will Lord Zheng die, but Her Grace will also suffer. Make sure Her Grace understands this!”

Though Heyu didn’t fully understand, she nodded seriously before hurrying back up to the terrace.

Watching Heyu’s retreating figure, Yang Wan suddenly felt short of breath.

So her understanding, protection, and tolerance of Yang Wan, so different from Yang Lun and others, was because she had such feelings in her heart.

Lost in thought, Yang Wan couldn’t help looking up at the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

The bright lights inside the hall couldn’t cast any shadows on the people within.

Like seeing through worldly affairs with a Buddha’s heart casting no shadow, only to be drowned by wine brewed from human emotions and desires.

Yang Wan coughed twice in the wind, her breathing gradually steadying.

Soon, the hall doors opened again, and a eunuch ran down the terrace toward the Meridian Gate.

Yang Wan’s shoulders slumped in relief.

Leaning against the cold wall of the terrace, she looked up at the inscrutable sky above.

The historical records didn’t seem to specify exactly when Zheng Yuejia died.

If he was originally meant to die today, and Yang Wan’s actions had changed that, did it mean that this piece of history she inhabited also had the possibility of life?