After speaking, she kept her hand on Deng Ying’s back, trying to move a little closer to him.

He trembled slightly from the pain, causing the edge of the quilt to brush against Yang Wan’s cheek.

“If it hurts too much, you can squeeze my hand.”

“No…”

He shook his head through the pain, “When a person’s fortune is spent in a day, what follows is all retribution.”

As he finished speaking, he winced in pain, his hand by the pillow clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

Yang Wan dared not move again, speaking softly: “I used to think that after the people from Tongjia Academy died, you gloriously assumed the position of Superintendent of the Eastern Depot.”

“This now… is deserved.”

Deng Ying’s breath fell on Yang Wan’s face, its temperature seemingly warmer than his body.

“I now have no way to collect my teacher’s bones, to prepare proper burial clothes for Master Zhou and the Zhao brothers. I can’t repay any of their kindness… so let this be my atonement.”

He coughed lightly twice after speaking.

Yang Wan raised her wrist, patting Deng Ying’s back rhythmically.

Facing this wounded man, she truly felt the contradictions inherent in the Great Ming Dynasty.

But these contradictions had their balance, pulling Deng Ying toward self-blame and self-harm while also pushing him to bravely shoulder responsibility. Though this contradiction made him struggle, it also allowed Deng Ying to continue living.

In this era that Yang Wan and Deng Ying inhabited, Italy was experiencing the Renaissance, capitalism was sprouting, individualism was being born, and the concept of “ruler and subject” was gradually dissolving. More advanced civilization was bringing human thinking to a new stage. From then on, Western civilization began to emphasize individual values, stressing self-governance and individual freedom. No one would be like Deng Ying anymore, extending their hand toward the shackles that hurt them while still trying to unlock the fetters of others.

If feudalism devoured people, wouldn’t civilization from another era kill people too?

Yang Wan was grateful that history was linear—no one else could look back like her, nor could anyone foresee the future. People all lived in the balance of their present, and thus wouldn’t feel they were the ones being crushed under the forward-rolling wheels of history.

Therefore, Yang Wan decided to respect Deng Ying.

“Yes, how could they blame you when they see you like this?”

After speaking, she slowed her hand’s movement, “Does it still hurt?”

Deng Ying closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Yang Wan pressed her lips together, suddenly saying, “Later, those people will be punished too.”

Deng Ying’s hand tightened, “What are you saying…”

“Just what the words mean.”

She looked into Deng Ying’s eyes as she spoke, “Let me tell you… um…”

She slowed her hand’s movement, breaking down the rigid theoretical logic in her mind before speaking again, “Things will always develop in a better direction, but sometimes this process encounters obstacles, back and forth. However, you should believe that the injuries you’ve suffered, and the wrongs you’ve endured, will gradually pass. And what you’ve done, someone will understand in the future. As for those people, whether it’s current punishment or future condemnation by words and writings, they won’t escape at least one of these.”

Deng Ying was silent for a moment, then smiled and said, “Again you speak words I can’t quite understand.”

“Then don’t think about it. Get some good sleep, and call me if you’re in pain or thirsty.”

After speaking, she propped herself up to blow out the lone candle on the table.

That night, the autumn wind blew continuously over the moat. Yang Wan curled up, listening to all the subtle autumn sounds through the night.

Deng Ying lay beside her. Perhaps from exhaustion, or perhaps from the fever caused by his wounds, he seemed to sleep deeply. The inner garment he wore for healing was as thin as cicada wings, wrapped in frost and snow.

Listening to the leaves outside the window, Yang Wan suddenly remembered a Song Dynasty poet named Mao Pang, who loved to write about autumn.

In his “Night Sailing Boat,” there was a line: “Counting drops of autumn sound invading brief dreams.”

Yang Wan hadn’t previously found this line particularly beautiful.

But now, lying by the window in Deng Ying’s chamber, she was suddenly moved by this layer of romantic ancient sentiment.

“Counting drops of autumn sound invading brief dreams.”

Yang Wan softly murmured this line, but couldn’t remember the next one.

After trying in vain to recall it, she smiled self-mockingly, pressed her lips together, and closed her eyes.

In the thick darkness, Deng Ying completed the second half of the line, moving his lips without sound.

“Beneath the eaves, rain on plantain leaves.”

Counting drops of autumn sound invading brief dreams, beneath the eaves, rain on plantain leaves.

This year’s autumn passed particularly quickly.

As Zheng Yuejia had anticipated, on the seventh day after Zhou Congshan’s death, the Emperor personally visited the Cabinet’s duty room.

That day, there were roadside memorial services everywhere in the capital, paper ashes flying like butterflies throughout the city.

In the streets and alleys, whether or not the coffins of those dozen or so people passed through, one could hear the sounds of mournful worship.

For a time, the imperial capital was in mourning white.

The Northern Commanding Office originally intended to prohibit roadside memorial services and arrest the instigators but was unexpectedly restrained by a secret imperial edict. The Emperor severely reprimanded Zhang Luo in the Hall of Mental Cultivation and ordered him to kneel for a day at the Gate of Supreme Harmony.

When Yang Lun and Bai Yuyang passed by the Gate of Supreme Harmony, they saw Zhang Luo being held down by Imperial Guard officers, and forced to kneel before the gate.

Bai Yuyang said, “Such a tragic case, and he’s only punished with kneeling. And specifically made to kneel here at this hour, putting on a show for the Cabinet, heh…”

Yang Lun glanced at Zhang Luo, then turned to Bai Yuyang, “His Majesty still intends to use him.”

Bai Yuyang sighed as they walked, “How did Minister Zhang, such a good-natured person, produce such an underworld official?”

Yang Lun didn’t respond to this, walking directly toward the Cabinet’s duty room.

When the two reached the duty room, they saw the Emperor’s procession prominently stopped at the Extreme Gate.

Zheng Yuejia stood before the procession, bowing in greeting as the two approached.

“My lords.”

Bai Yuyang glanced at the duty room and asked quietly, “Has His Majesty arrived?”

“Yes.”

Yang Lun asked, “Where is Director He?”

“Attending to His Majesty inside.”

After speaking, he stepped aside, “Please enter, my lords.”

Yang Lun and Bai Yuyang dared not delay, entering the duty room together. Just as they entered, before they could perform the proper court etiquette, they heard Emperor Zhenning say, “Though this person is the descendant of a criminal, since he has already been punished and is under the Imperial Ceremonial Office’s supervision, I believe there’s nothing to criticize.”

After speaking, he raised his hand to Yang Lun and the others, gesturing for them to rise.

Neither Bai nor Zhang spoke. He Yixian, serving tea at the Emperor’s side, glanced at the Emperor’s expression and also remained silent.

He had originally intended to pressure Deng Ying to resign voluntarily, but after the caning, Deng Ying had only replied with four words: “Nothing to say.”

Though he remained humble and docile, even cooperating during his punishment, and even personally requesting forgiveness from He Yixian at the Imperial Ceremonial Office when he could walk again, He Yixian understood that Deng Ying would not and could not become his descendant.

But having served Emperor Zhenning for many years, he deeply understood the Emperor’s mastery of the art of checks and balances. The conversation with Deng Ying in the Hall of Mental Cultivation had already revealed three-tenths of his intention. He couldn’t say anything more, otherwise, those three-tenths would become eight or nine-tenths.

The Emperor consulting the Cabinet today was a good thing for him.

So he glanced at Zhang Cong.

Zhang Cong, standing behind Bai Huan, saw this glance and coughed lightly, stepping forward to address Emperor Zhenning, “Your Majesty’s words are profound and correct, but Deng Yi’s entire clan was executed after all. Sparing Deng Ying’s life was already Your Majesty’s heavenly grace. This minister fears… he might harbor ulterior motives.”

“What ulterior motives?”

Bai Yuyang’s eyelid twitched—the questioner was Yang Lun, standing beside him.

Zhang Cong, struck by this direct challenge, suddenly didn’t know how to continue, “This…”

Yang Lun didn’t look at him, turning instead to Emperor Zhenning, “This person is already a palace servant, bound by the ‘Founding Emperor’s Internal Instructions.’ If he still dared harbor ulterior motives, where would Minister Zhang place our dynasty’s glorious internal instructions? Where would he place Your Majesty’s imperial authority? Moreover, this person built Taihe Hall while bearing guilt, working diligently for half a year without a single error—where are these ulterior motives?”

“Yang Lun.”

Bai Huan called out to him, “Do not be discourteous before His Majesty.”

Emperor Zhenning gestured to Bai Huan to be quiet, “Let him speak.”

Yang Lun bowed, “Your subject understands that though Deng Ying has been punished, his father’s crimes were heinous, and his descendants cannot be forgiven. However, I understand his character. Your Majesty established the Eastern Depot to pacify the capital’s turmoil and hear the voices of officials and common people throughout the realm. If this person were mediocre, how could he listen on Your Majesty’s behalf?”

His use of “mediocre” pointed at Hu Xiang, causing He Yixian’s hand to tremble, nearly spilling the tea.

Emperor Zhenning laughed, “Vice Minister Yang speaks truly. What is Minister Bai’s opinion?”

Bai Huan responded, “This subject thanks Your Majesty for asking. This person was once my student, but his sins are grave. I dare not speak more for him. Having received Your Majesty’s deep grace thus far, if he still harbored ulterior motives, even Heaven would not tolerate it. This old subject is aging and already struggles to oversee the offices outside the Cabinet. If someone could, as Vice Minister Yang says, listen to official and common voices on Your Majesty’s behalf, demonstrating Your Majesty’s benevolence and winning the people’s hearts, this subject would also agree. However… if Your Majesty asks this subject’s opinion, this subject would not recommend this person…”

His chest tightened and his breathing became irregular as he spoke, holding onto the table as he coughed and panted.

With the Emperor present, neither Bai Yuyang nor Yang Lun dared step forward to assist him.

After Bai Huan recovered somewhat, he continued, “Your Majesty, this subject cannot serve alongside Deng Yi’s descendant.”

After hearing these words, the Emperor personally rose to support him, “Minister Bai speaks too heavily. The Eastern Depot carries out surveillance duties on my behalf. I will not give him judicial authority, nor is he worthy to question officials.”

Bai Huan moved away from the Emperor’s hand, bowing deeply, “This subject is fearful and has nothing more to say.”

Seeing him thus, the Emperor said no more, flicking his sleeve as he walked to the door, “If that’s settled, then it’s decided. Yang Lun.”

“Your subject is here.”

The Emperor raised his hand, pointing at him, “You draft this edict. While I’m here today, I’ll approve it with the vermillion seal on the spot.”

“Yes.”

The Emperor nodded, reaching for his tea, and He Yixian hurried to steady the cup for him.

The Emperor took a sip of tea and looked up at the sky, “What time is it?”

He Yixian replied, “Noon, Your Majesty.”

“Go tell Zhang Luo to rise. Let’s leave.”

“Yes…”

For a moment, there was silence in the duty room.

The Emperor walked with his teacup to Yang Lun’s side as he drafted the edict, looking at the characters on the paper, “With the Tongjia case concluded thus far, my heart aches greatly. I resent these scholars who, after ten years of diligent study, fail to understand the relationship between ruler and subject. I also pity their youth, their passionate blood spilled in the wrong place. I wonder who bewitched them to such foolishness.”

As he spoke these words, he glanced at Zhang and Bai.

Zhang Cong hurriedly knelt, “This old subject is fearful.”

Hearing Bai Huan’s silence, Yang Lun stopped writing and secretly looked toward him.

Bai Huan’s gaze met his briefly before withdrawing.

Then, supporting himself on the table, he knelt, “This subject’s crimes are unforgivable.”

The Emperor gestured for He Yixian to help the two up, “You two lead the Cabinet, true ministers of the highest importance. I have no intention of implicating you two beloved officials. The Tongjia Academy case ends here—I will not let the Northern Commanding Office investigate further. Another year is nearly over. In spring, with the new policies, while my health is still good, I wish to discuss matters further with you all.”