Zheng Yuejia descended from the carriage, the East Glory Gate already before his eyes.

The Great Ming Imperial City’s rule was that from the outer four gates, everyone except the Emperor and his consorts had to walk.

The Eastern Bureau guards stepped forward to support Zheng Yuejia’s arms. Just this simple movement caused all the blood in his body to rush toward his flayed wounds.

“Slower, please.”

He couldn’t help but plead.

Deng Ying turned back to look at Qin Wende, whose face immediately showed apologetic concern.

“Slower, it’s fine.”

“Yes, Superintendent.”

The group walked slowly along the quiet palace path.

Seasonal flowers hid behind the layered palace walls, their petals surging like waves in the wind, sounding like distant thunder.

Zheng Yuejia asked Deng Ying: “Weren’t you taking me to the Inner Eastern Bureau? Why are we heading toward the Huiji Gate?”

“First to the Imperial Dispensary.”

Zheng Yuejia didn’t respond immediately, stumbling along behind Deng Ying. After a while, he sighed.

“Is this necessary?”

He raised his head, “It’s not as if I’ll receive visitors’ respects or sacrifices later, having intact skin is useless. Just going like this, I feel it doesn’t matter.”

Deng Ying looked up at the Huiji Gate. A few more steps, past the Huiji Gate, would be the Hall of Literary Glory.

Today was Zhang Cong’s day to lecture. Though not as grand as the spring lectures of the Imperial Academy, because it was a new topic chosen by the Grand Secretariat, several Editors from the Hanlin Academy and the Director of the Imperial College were present.

“Deng Ying.”

“Yes.”

“What are they lecturing about inside?”

This place was, besides the Directorate of Ceremonial and the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the most familiar to Zheng Yuejia.

He had long served Emperor Zhenning with brush and ink, also attending the twice-yearly Imperial Academy lectures. Although Emperor Zhenning grew weary of lectures, after Yi Lang began his studies, Zheng Yuejia still served with books at every spring and autumn lecture. In the past, even hearing just a few scattered words, he could tell what the lecturer was teaching.

Now his torture wounds hurt too much, his ears constantly buzzing, unable to hear a single clear word.

Hearing his question, Deng Ying stopped, and closed his eyes to listen for a moment, “‘Zhenguan Zhengyao’ (Essentials of Government from the Zhenguan Period).”

“Oh…”

Zheng Yuejia gave a short laugh, “The last few days of the spring lectures, I wasn’t there – who did the Directorate of Ceremonial send to serve with books in the Hall of Literary Glory?”

Deng Ying replied: “Hu Xiang.”

“Him…”

Zheng Yuejia laughed and coughed, looking at his footsteps: “Hope he doesn’t dirty the ground beneath His Highness’s feet.”

“Secretary Zheng, mind your words.”

“It’s fine.”

Zheng Yuejia shook his head with a smile, “From that distance, he can’t hear. I’m very happy today, seeing His Highness still receiving lectures in the Hall of Literary Glory, I know… those people didn’t succeed after all.”

After speaking, he lowered his head to look at his shadow before him, never raising it again.

On the terrace of the Hall of Literary Glory, Consort Ning stood alone behind the white jade railings.

Not far away, Zheng Yuejia was being supported through the Huiji Gate, heading toward the Imperial Dispensary to the south.

Or perhaps “walking” isn’t the right word – severely wounded and barely able to move, he was almost being dragged along.

His clothes had been changed but were now completely soaked with blood.

Consort Ning couldn’t imagine what tortures Zheng Yuejia had endured for her sake during those days in the prison, she wanted to ask, wanted to properly remember this tender debt of gratitude, but he couldn’t hear.

They hadn’t spoken many words in their lifetime, almost all of them in their youth.

She was a noble lady, and he was always too proper in his conduct – even when sitting together, their words never crossed the boundaries of human desire. After she entered the palace, though they often saw each other, besides ceremonial greetings, they never spoke other words.

As years passed, people each weaved the brocade of their hearts.

She couldn’t tell Zheng Yuejia that she still studied books and calligraphy, didn’t neglect needlework and cooking, remained gentle in temperament, rich in inner cultivation, and refined even better than in her youth.

Ten years of watching each other, ten years of silence.

At this moment, she could only watch that person who refused to raise his head again, continuing to fall into endless silence…

Seeing the figure behind the jade railings at the Hall of Literary Glory, Deng Ying turned back to Zheng Yuejia: “Every year at the spring and autumn lectures, you served with books for His Majesty and His Highness in the Hall of Literary Glory. Don’t you want to look at this place one more time?”

Zheng Yuejia shook his head: “I’m not like you, I never helped build the imperial city, and I have no attachment to these halls – not looking won’t leave me with regrets.”

After speaking, he sighed again, “Deng Ying, the true regret in my heart is greater than heaven, and the longer I live, the harder it becomes to make up for it. Let it be…”

He coughed up a bloody phlegm, his body shaking in the guards’ hands.

“Has His Majesty said how to deal with me?”

Deng Ying shook his head, “No clear edict yet.”

“As long as it’s not death by beating.”

He spoke while smiling, “Throughout history, few eunuchs have met good ends. Someone like me has already fared quite well. If I had died outside, my uncle and niece would have faced scorn while collecting my corpse. Now it’s better – the palace will handle my corpse, bury me simply, everyone is better off.”

By then, they had almost passed the Hall of Literary Glory.

Deng Ying couldn’t help saying: “Walk a bit slower.”

Qin Wende said: “Superintendent, the slower we walk, the more Secretary Zheng suffers.”

Zheng Yuejia beckoned to Deng Ying, “Come here.”

Deng Ying walked to his side, supporting one of his hands, “What do you want to say?”

Zheng Yuejia slowly exhaled, speaking softly: “I know… who’s there.”

“…”

Deng Ying’s back stiffened, momentarily speechless.

“I take responsibility for my life and death. Send her my distant wishes for her well-being.”

At the end of the sixth month of Zhenning’s thirteenth year, the handling of the Crane Residence case was entirely transferred from the Northern Commandery prison to the inner court.

The Palace Directorate and Eastern Investigation Bureau thoroughly investigated all palace servants who had worked at the Crane Residence. Afterward, the inner palace’s six halls, including the twenty-four bureaus and the six bureaus of female officials, all underwent a brutal purge. The palace servants were terrified, and those with private grudges denounced each other, eventually implicating nearly three hundred people.

The Empress originally wanted to show mercy to these people, but the Emperor wouldn’t allow it, even rebuking the Empress: “How can We allow even a hint of wolfish ambition beside Our royal bed?” Thus these guilty palace maids and eunuchs, including Zheng Yuejia, were all sentenced to death by beating. The Emperor ordered the Eastern Bureau to carry out the punishment, with the Directorate of Ceremonial supervising.

When Zheng Yuejia heard this edict at the Inner Eastern Bureau, he only said one thing to Deng Ying, “His Majesty… still hates us after all.”

“Not hate, fear.”

Zheng Yuejia laughed: “You dare say such things only because I’m about to die and won’t be able to report you, right?”

After speaking, he stopped laughing, “If even leashed dogs are feared, hm… no wonder he’s wary of unleashed ones like Zhang Luo. You, as Superintendent of the Eastern Bureau, have truly come to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Northern Commandery.”

His joking manner before death made people’s hearts tremble with cold.

Deng Ying didn’t continue the conversation.

Outside the office, Qin Wende came looking for him, briefly relating how the Grand Secretariat had submitted a memorial pleading for mercy for the palace servants.

Walking toward the bureau office, Deng Ying asked, “Did you meet with someone from the Directorate of Ceremonial?”

“Yes, this servant went to see Secretary Hu, he’ll supervise the execution tomorrow.”

“What did he say?”

“Ah.” Qin Wende sighed.

“After His Majesty rejected the Grand Secretariat’s memorial, he went on to say that this punishment of these people is meant to shock the inner court, so within a hundred strokes, they cannot be allowed to die.”

Deng Ying stopped walking, “What does that mean?”

Qin Wende sighed: “A hundred strokes avoiding vital points, letting these people suffer worse than death, then taking their lives afterward – it’s both execution and torture. We used to practice such techniques in the Embroidered Uniform Guard.”

Deng Ying replied: “Come see me at the hour of the monkey (3-5 pm), I need to return to the Directorate of Ceremonial first.”

“Yes.”

At this time, the vermillion endorsements had just finished at the Hall of Mental Cultivation, and meals were being set out in the main hall of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

After returning from the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Hu Xiang and He Yixian didn’t go directly inside but stood talking in front of the Palace Supply Storehouse.

Seeing Deng Ying approach, Hu Xiang didn’t wait for his greeting but said directly: “If it’s about tomorrow’s matter, don’t mention it.”

Deng Ying didn’t respond to him, walking past him to He Yixian, “This servant has words to say privately to the Elder.”

He Yixian smiled slightly, waving at Hu Xiang, “Take your meal outside.”

“Elder…”

“When I tell you to take it, take it. Why so many words?”

Then to Deng Ying: “Come inside to speak.”

The meal in the main hall was almost set, with twelve dishes including cooked meat, stir-fried vegetables, and a jar of pickled meat on the floor.

He Yixian squatted down, and lifted the jar’s lid to smell, “Mm, well-braised, take out two pieces.”

A eunuch hurriedly brought bowls and chopsticks, took out two pieces, and gave them to He Yixian, who laughed, “Where are Superintendent Deng’s bowls and chopsticks? You all understand less and less these days.”

The eunuch hurriedly brought another set of bowls and chopsticks, respectfully presenting them to Deng Ying.

Seeing him holding his bowl steady, He Yixian picked up a piece of meat from his bowl and placed it in Deng Ying’s.

“Sit.”

He said as he sat in the main seat, adding a bowl of rice and handing it to the eunuch, “Take this out to Secretary Hu.”

Then looking at Deng Ying, he said in a relaxed tone: “You feel uncomfortable sitting here to eat, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

He looked down at the bowls and chopsticks in his hands, “This servant is overwhelmed.”

He Yixian took a bite of meat, chewing it over a dozen times before swallowing.

Raising his chopsticks and looking up, he said: “What does the Directorate of Ceremonial do besides endorsing some trivial matters for the Emperor? Isn’t it just everyone sitting together and sharing a meal? Those who can sit in here are all eating from the Emperor’s bowl. Now that the Eastern Bureau has the power of detention and interrogation, you’re the second person in the Directorate to hold the rice bowl. If you don’t sit, the rest can’t sit either.”

Hearing this, Deng Ying arranged his robes and sat down.

“That’s right, have some peanuts.”

He said, lowering his head to eat some rice, picking up vegetables, and casually asking, “You’re here about Yuejia’s matter, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Deng Ying picked up some vegetables but didn’t eat, “Please show him mercy, Elder.”

“Heh heh…”

He Yixian put down his chopsticks, “When he first entered the palace, he was so young, such a mild-mannered person, didn’t talk much, but when working, was as precise as a nail fitting its hole. In those early years, he even called me godfather, and I truly treated him like a child. But later, somehow, his heart wasn’t in it anymore, tsk…”

He sighed, “Truly hateful indeed. However, watching him be tortured doesn’t sit well with me either. Everyone says I’m ruthless, but who understands the pain of losing a son at my age?”

“This servant understands.”

“You understand? What do you understand? You’re someone I can’t help but fear now. Besides, I’m old, and barely able to take care of myself. The few acres at home are about to be confiscated. Old and sonless, homeless – perhaps when Inspector Yang returns, I’ll be wearing shackles, kneeling before you for interrogation. Come to think of it, there’s not much point in living.”

Deng Ying lowered his head, “Are you speaking of the school fields in Hangzhou?”

He Yixian asked: “Do you know how far the southern land investigation has reached?”

“Yes. The Chushan and Hutan Academies in Hangzhou have nearly a hundred mu of school fields, leased to farmers from Changping and Huaili counties for cultivation, but they’re private fields under the name of school lands.”

He Yixian nodded, “Then do you know whose fields these are?”

Deng Ying looked up, “They’re yours.”

“Ha…”

He Yixian put down his chopsticks and laughed, “In Zhenning’s fourth year, His Majesty wanted a Daoist robe made. Because it was a sudden desire, the cost wasn’t included in the annual silver given to the Needle Bureau by the Ministry of Revenue. Those people in the Grand Secretariat, just for such a robe, wanted to write ten thousand words criticizing the master. How did that robe come to be in the end?”

He raised his chopsticks to point outside, “It came from those fields. You say they’re my fields, heh… they are indeed. But His Majesty is someone I watched grow up. Although it’s greatly disrespectful of me, I still can’t help but care for the master. Unfortunately, these officials of the Grand Secretariat won’t even leave me this tiny bit of leeway.”

“In that case.”

Deng Ying stood up, “Elder, hand the Hangzhou school fields over to me, treat them as my private fields when Inspector Yang comes to investigate.”

He Yixian lowered his head to look intently at Deng Ying, “I’m waiting to hear what comes after.”

“Regarding Consort Ning and Secretary Zheng’s matter, please keep it in your heart. For tomorrow’s execution, I beg for your mercy.”