The autumn mood grew colder, with fallen leaves covering the steps of the small courtyard.

In Princess Wen’s room at Prince Wen’s manor, dim yellow light leaked through the window cracks.

Fang Zi used silver scissors to trim the lamp wick on the table shorter, then closed the door and went out. Only the pale shadows under candlelight remained in the room.

Pei Yunshu sat by the bed, gently rocking the cradle beside her. The baby girl in the cradle slept sweetly. In just half a month, her wrinkled appearance had filled out, becoming white and plump. Except for being particularly small and thin, she showed no signs of being born prematurely.

Pei Yunshu smiled: “Look at her, sleeping like a little kitten. Don’t you think her nose and mouth resemble me more?”

The young man filling a hot water bottle at the small table snorted at her words: “Wouldn’t that be unfortunate?” He then leaned over and carefully examined the baby in the cradle, commenting: “Indeed, she bears no resemblance to her father whatsoever.”

Pei Yunshu gave him a reproachful look, then turned to gaze at the sleeping baby, growing more delighted the more she looked: “When we induced labor that day, I was still worried about what would happen if she was born too early with congenital deficiencies. Now I feel somewhat reassured.”

Several imperial physicians had come these past few days. After examining her, they all said the child was very healthy. Moreover, this child could eat and sleep well. As for the toxicity of “child’s sorrow,” though not completely expelled, according to Lu Tong, there was no longer any threat to her life.

Thinking of Lu Tong, Pei Yunshu suddenly spoke: “A’Ying, we owe so much to Doctor Lu this time. Doctor Lu is Baozhu’s lifesaver. I was thinking of inviting Doctor Lu to the manor on Baozhu’s full moon day. She left in such a hurry last time that I didn’t get to thank her properly.”

Pei Yunying laughed: “Sounds good.” He handed the filled hot water bottle to Pei Yunshu.

Pei Yunshu took it and held it in her hands. The weather was getting colder, and the nights already felt chilly. Lu Tong didn’t allow layering quilts on new mothers, but the manor’s wet nurses insisted that women after childbirth couldn’t catch cold. After much back and forth, they reached a compromise – no warming stove in the room, but no need for three layers of cotton quilts either.

“Sister.”

Pei Yunying suddenly spoke.

“What?”

He didn’t immediately answer, just sat at the table, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment of silence, he said: “Do you want to leave the prince’s manor?”

Pei Yunshu was startled.

As if some unspoken taboo had been raised, the room fell into silence.

Prince Wen Mu Sheng hadn’t appeared at all these days.

Initially, Pei Yunying’s guards had blocked the entrance to Pei Yunshu’s courtyard. Mu Sheng had raged at the gate for several days, threatening to go to the palace to see the emperor and have him punish Pei Yunying for such arrogant and disrespectful behavior. However, whatever Pei Yunying had told the emperor, Mu Sheng never received the imperial punishment for Pei Yunying that he expected.

After returning to the manor, Mu Sheng simply stopped coming to Pei Yunshu’s courtyard altogether.

Firstly, Pei Yunshu had given birth to a daughter, which wasn’t that important in Mu Sheng’s eyes. Secondly, he wanted to use this to vent his anger at Pei Yunshu.

He couldn’t do anything to Pei Yunying, but he could give Pei Yunshu the cold shoulder. By treating Pei Yunshu coldly like this, everyone in the prince’s manor knew that after the princess gave birth to a daughter, the prince hadn’t set foot in the princess’s courtyard even once. Pei Yunshu was habitually forbearing and would only swallow this bitterness.

The humiliation Mu Sheng suffered at Pei Yunying’s hands, he would recover with double the humiliation of Pei Yunshu. He had always been this way.

The wind outside was cold, and the lamplight in the room flickered. Pei Yunshu’s smile faded, her gaze becoming somewhat desolate.

Pei Yunying sat at the small table, casually adjusting the lamp wick before him.

He said: “Even if not for yourself, don’t you plan to think about Baozhu?” His gaze fell on the cradle, lingering for a moment on that kitten-like little bundle. “Do you want her to live under constant threat of hidden arrows in the future?”

Pei Yunshu’s whole body trembled.

Since marrying into Prince Wen’s manor, she had completely ignored all of Mu Sheng’s coldness and humiliation toward her. After all, Mu Sheng didn’t dare break with the Pei family completely. Duke Zhaoning wouldn’t concern himself with her joys and sorrows – as long as she remained in the position of Princess Wen, that was enough. Pei Yunshu herself thought the same way, living several years as if they were the same day.

But having Baozhu changed everything.

Baozhu had already suffered the world’s malice while still in the womb before being born. In the long years ahead, would Baozhu have to live under such malicious surveillance constantly?

How cruel.

Pei Yunshu lowered her head, looking at the baby in the cradle. Her eyes gradually filled with ripples as she said softly: “He won’t give me a divorce letter.”

Mu Sheng was someone who always cared about face. Now that his beloved concubine had been taken away by Pei Yunying and he had lost face before the manor’s servants, he must be harboring anger and would never easily let her go. Mu Sheng wouldn’t beat or scold her – he would only treat her coldly, making her waste away aimlessly in the prince’s manor, gradually withering into a pool of stagnant water.

“Divorce letter?”

He smiled, his eyes cold as snow water: “He wishes.”

Pei Yunshu was startled.

“I want him to respectfully send you out the door, and not dare say a single bad word about you.”

Pei Yunshu frowned slightly, feeling inexplicably uneasy: “What do you want to do? Don’t act rashly.” She hesitated: “Besides, father’s side…”

For marriages between high-ranking families, sometimes the marriage itself was the least important thing. Once she left the prince’s manor, the future relationship between the Pei and Mu families would need to be reconsidered.

“Don’t worry about him. Leave these matters to me.” He stood and walked to the cradle, reaching out to touch the baby’s round little cheek. The baby seemed to sense something and made soft gurgling sounds, so he withdrew his hand and smiled at the little kitten in the cradle.

“You just focus on preparing invitations for the full moon celebration. A reminder though – that Doctor Lu is quite busy and dislikes the wealthy and powerful most of all. She might not come to the banquet.”

His eyelashes lowered slightly, hiding the surging waves in his eyes as he smiled: “The invitations need to be sent out early.”

…

In the great prison of the Criminal Justice Department, the night was exceptionally quiet.

Torches burned quietly on the walls, their shadows stretching ominously on the ground. The deeper one went, the dimmer it became. Only hazy moonlight leaked through the small barred windows on the walls, spreading a layer of cold frost on the ground.

A person huddled in the straw pile, clothes in tatters, hair disheveled and face dirty, both hands buried in the straw, trying to use the damp hay to ward off the cold of the dungeon night.

Tap, tap, tap.

Footsteps sounded, particularly clear in the silent night.

Fan Zhenglian turned over without opening his eyes. At this hour, it should be the patrolling jailer.

But the footsteps stopped at the prison door, followed by the rustling sound of door locks. Someone was opening the iron gate of the cell.

Fan Zhenglian sat up drowsily. In the dim firelight, he saw a jailer standing before him, turning to close the door.

He noticed this jailer had an unfamiliar face – not the usual bastard who kept his eyes turned skyward. Somewhat puzzled, he saw the person looking at him and calling softly: “Master Fan?”

Fan Zhenglian shuddered. Regardless of everything else, he scrambled to his feet and tentatively replied: “Are you from the Qi family manor?”

The jailer nodded.

Fan Zhenglian was immediately overjoyed.

Ever since seeing Qi Chuan that day, he had been waiting anxiously in this prison. Although to the Grand Tutor’s manor, the Lu family was as insignificant as ants, Grand Tutor Qi loved and protected his children and would never allow anything that damaged Young Master Qi’s reputation to happen. As long as he threw out the Lu family bait, regardless of whether the Grand Tutor’s manor would intervene to save him, they at least wouldn’t remain indifferent.

This was his thinking. Who knew that several days had passed without a trace of Qi Chuan? Fan Zhenglian began to suspect whether Qi Chuan had actually failed to reach the Grand Tutor’s manor as he had instructed, while also worrying that the Grand Tutor’s manor, upon learning of this matter, simply didn’t care and would ultimately remain coldly indifferent to him.

After waiting several days and gradually growing cold-hearted, just when even Fan Zhenglian himself was becoming desperate, unexpectedly tonight someone had descended from heaven.

He had won his gamble. Heaven was still on Fan Zhenglian’s side.

“Thank you for your assistance, sir.” He hurriedly bowed to express his gratitude, while also feeling somewhat puzzled.

He had asked Qi Chuan to carry a message to the Grand Tutor’s manor merely as bait. He had thought of the Grand Tutor’s manor taking action, but not now, and certainly hadn’t expected them to personally send someone.

He suppressed his doubts and asked the person before him: “Did you bring any message for me?”

The jailer shook his head.

“Then this is…”

“Shh—” The other person made a silencing gesture, and Fan Zhenglian immediately dared not speak.

Because this case was complex, he had been arranged in the innermost cell of the Criminal Justice Department prison, with no other prisoners nearby. The jailer gave him a meaningful look, indicating he should walk forward.

This was… a prison break?

Fan Zhenglian was stunned.

He had wanted the Grand Tutor’s manor to intervene. With Grand Tutor Qi’s current position in the court, just a few words before His Majesty would create a turning point in this case. However, the other party was directly taking him away from the Criminal Justice Department. Although this would also save his life, he wouldn’t be able to appear openly before people in the future, let alone make a comeback.

Fan Zhenglian was unwilling, but with the current balance of power against him, he could only submit.

He had to suppress what he wanted to say and walk toward the prison door. Moonlight followed behind him, casting clawing shadows on the ground. After taking two steps, he finally felt something was amiss.

Not right.

If the Grand Tutor’s manor truly wanted to save him, why would they personally send someone? This case was serious, and with so many eyes watching from above and below, if he left this prison today, there would certainly be massive searches throughout the city. Wasn’t the Grand Tutor’s manor afraid of getting into trouble?

His heart tightened. Before he could turn around, the next moment, sharp pain came from his neck as a rope as thick as a thumb tightly strangled his throat!

“No—”

His voice disappeared in the dim prison. His hands desperately clawed at the rope around his neck, his legs kicking frantically, trying to break free from the other person’s restraint. However, this strength was pitifully weak in the other person’s hands.

He couldn’t even see the other person’s expression. Tears of terror poured from his eyes. He didn’t understand where things had gone wrong. He had the Lu family’s letter – even if the Grand Tutor’s manor was unwilling to intervene, before that letter appeared, how could they rashly silence him? Weren’t they afraid that letter would spread everywhere?

The force around his neck grew stronger and stronger. He gradually felt suffocated. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to beg for mercy, tried to scream and shout to wake the others in this prison – even one person would do – but he couldn’t make a sound. He could only despairingly feel his life slipping away bit by bit.

He regretted it. He shouldn’t have provoked the Grand Tutor’s manor. He shouldn’t have taken that letter. Going back further, when that Lu fellow had found him, he shouldn’t have immediately felt greed and tipped off the Qi family. And when he received the accusation, he shouldn’t have imprisoned the other party and subjected him to torture.

That young man, that Lu fellow – what was his name again?

Perhaps as his life slowly ebbed away, his vision began to blur. In the murky darkness, he saw that person.

The youth wore old clothes that couldn’t hide his refined quality. His eyes were bright enough to burn, as if containing angry fire. He had blocked his sedan chair, showing him those pieces of evidence one by one. He had come from thousands of miles away in a small county, traveling by carriage and boat, kneeling before him and pleading: “Please, sir, give my sister justice!”

At that time, he had been busy rushing to a social drinking party and was initially impatient to deal with this, but stopped abruptly when he heard the words “Grand Tutor’s manor.”

The Grand Tutor’s manor…

That was a connection he couldn’t even beg for.

Sending up such a favor would ensure his official career would be smooth sailing in the future. He calculated how much benefit he could gain from this, blind to the youth’s tears and indignation.

It was just someone whose purity had been defiled, just a dead woman, just a schoolteacher’s family…

Was it really worth all this?

When commoners fought with officials, in the end only they themselves suffered. Looking at the youth’s straight spine, he thought to himself that this was truly someone whose reading had gone to his head – a bookworm who didn’t understand the world’s suffering. So he kindly helped the person on the ground up and angrily declared: “Such arrogant evil behavior – rest assured, this official will certainly restore your sister’s innocence.”

Then he immediately informed the Grand Tutor’s manor of the matter.

However, that youth was somewhat clever. Learning of his plan from somewhere, he actually escaped right under his nose. Having already boasted to Young Master Qi, he had to provide an explanation. He was forced to post reward notices. Heaven had eyes – he actually managed to wait for the person.

The youth’s uncle had brought him back.

All for a hundred taels of reward silver.

Looking at the unconscious person, he saw him as recovered treasure, feeling proud in his heart. See, commoners were like this – give them a little sweetness and brothers would fight, close relatives would turn against each other. They would do anything.

He brought the Lu fellow back to the great prison. He had originally forgotten what the other person looked like. To him, that youth was a stepping stone on his official path, his pledge of allegiance to the Grand Tutor’s manor – grass, an ant, something utterly insignificant. He had never taken such lowly people seriously. Even if the entire Lu family were added together, they were just a few lowly lives.

They couldn’t make any waves.

Whenever he wanted, he could easily give the other party plenty of suffering.

However, for some unknown reason, at the moment of death, he could clearly see the other person’s shadow.

The youth stood before him. In the dim prison cell, his worn clothes couldn’t hide his clear and handsome bearing.

Fan Zhenglian had never liked scholars. He hated their aloofness, hated their self-importance, hated how in their contrast, his own muddied self appeared.

That youth was about to be fitted with a noose. Facing death, he remained fearless, only saying calmly: “Heaven and earth are impartial, and karmic retribution is unfailing. This long-delayed prison will have its clear judgment one day.”

He looked at Fan Zhenglian, undisguised contempt in his eyes: “Fan Zhenglian, you will have your retribution.”

You will have your retribution.

He opened his mouth wide, his hands futilely grasping at the air several times.

“Crack—”

There was a slight breaking sound.

Then a muffled thud as something was thrown to the ground, stirring up a small handful of dust.

Someone walked over the dry grass, and the dungeon returned to silence.

Only the person on the ground lay like a dead dog, in prison clothes and shackles, his twisted head facing the small window on the high wall of the dungeon. His pupils were wide open, reflecting the moon’s pale shadow.

The moon flowed out from those lifeless eyes. As it passed through the wine houses and restaurants of the capital’s districts, it shed some of its deathly aura.

At Renhe Restaurant, the night was quite lively.

The wine house was packed, bustling with voices. Du Changqing greeted everyone to sit at the table, sighing as he looked at the table full of food and wine.

The Mid-Autumn banquet from the fifteenth of the eighth month, finally eaten in the ninth month. Fortunately, though there was no moon to admire, the dishes remained, so it wasn’t wasted.

Diners at the neighboring table were discussing the recent imperial examination fraud case, talking about the legendary scholar who had returned from the dead, about the recent inexplicable rumors regarding the Grand Tutor’s manor in the capital, and finally, about that detailed judge who had once been covered in praise but was now imprisoned.

“That Fan Zhenglian was really riding high in the capital back then. In just a few years, he became a detailed judge at the Court of Judicial Review. I thought his career would climb even higher, but who would have thought—”

“As they say, ‘Honor and disgrace, wealth and poverty turn like rolling balls; the changes of fortune are truly manifold!'”

“Exactly! You think officialdom is just climbing ladders upward, but one careless step, one unstable climb, and you fall to your death without even knowing how!”

Those boiling discussions drifted over the tables and into Lu Tong’s ears. She listened impassively, her expression slightly restrained.

She had arranged for rumors to spread near Qi Chuan’s home, saying that the court recently planned to investigate the imperial examination fraud case backwards. With a guilty conscience, Qi Chuan would surely seek his own way out. And the best way out, the most secure method, was to ensure Fan Zhenglian could no longer speak.

She had intended to use Qi Chuan’s hand to kill, never expecting Qi Chuan to think the same way, and even less expecting Qi Chuan to spread the rumors about the Grand Tutor’s manor.

This was truly wonderful.

Regardless of what the Grand Tutor’s manor thought about this matter, the Qi family, having had their reputation “damaged,” would certainly not let Fan Zhenglian off. Fan Zhenglian’s fate was predictable.

Fan Zhenglian had used reward silver to tempt Liu Kun, causing Lu Qian to be betrayed by his own relative. Now she used profit to tempt Qi Chuan, causing Fan Zhenglian to be betrayed by his subordinate.

Fan Zhenglian had used the Lu family’s lives as a pledge of allegiance to curry favor with the Grand Tutor’s manor. She had tempted Qi Chuan to use Fan Zhenglian’s life as a pledge of allegiance to curry favor with another family.

Fan Zhenglian had made Lu Qian taste the full bitterness of prison, so she made Fan Zhenglian also become a prisoner in jail.

Before the examination case, Lu Tong had met Liu Kun and learned of the crimes Fan Zhenglian had committed against the Lu family. Yin Zheng had asked her: “Miss, what are your plans? Do you intend to poison him and take his life?”

At that time, Lu Tong had answered: “He’s an official. Killing him would be too troublesome. I have other arrangements.”

She didn’t plan to act directly. If she killed Fan Zhenglian, he would still be an upright magistrate, and people might even sigh and lament his death.

Fan Zhenglian wanted career advancement, so she made his official star completely extinguished. He wanted good reputation and fame, so she wanted him to have a ruined reputation with all hearts scattered.

She wanted everything he had painstakingly built to become bubbles, wanted those to whom Fan Zhenglian had pledged allegiance to personally send him on his way. In Fan Zhenglian’s eyes, the Lu family was like grass – she wanted him to experience that in the eyes of those in higher positions, he too was merely grass.

Du Changqing shouted: “A perfectly good Mid-Autumn banquet, and now even the moon isn’t round anymore. Eating this has no flavor – what a bloody loss.”

Lu Tong turned to look outside the window: “Really?”

Du Changqing: “Isn’t it obvious!”

It was past the fifteenth, and the moon wasn’t as round and bright as before. It was like a thin, sharp guillotine blade, gleaming silver as it hung in the sky, ready to cut apart the world’s injustices.

In the lively hall around them, diners at their tables clinked glasses and raised cups in celebration, toasting who knows what good fortune.

Lu Tong lowered her head. The distant moon fell into her wine cup, stirring up ripples.

“I actually think tonight’s moon is more beautiful.”

She raised her cup and smiled as she drained the wine within.