The autumn chill deepened, with fallen leaves covering the steps of the small courtyard. In the chambers of the Prince Consort’s wife at the Wen Prince Manor, a soft yellow light filtered through the window gaps.

Fangzi used silver scissors to trim the lamp wick on the table, then quietly left, closing the door. Only pale shadows remained in the candlelight.

Pei Yunshu sat beside the couch, gently rocking the cradle beside her. The baby girl inside slept sweetly. After just half a month, her wrinkled appearance had filled out, now plump and fair. Apart from being somewhat small and thin, one could hardly tell she had been born prematurely.

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

The young man filling a hot water bottle at the small table snorted: “Wouldn’t that be unfortunate?” He turned, tilting his chin to peer closely at the infant in the cradle, commenting: “She certainly doesn’t resemble her father at all.”

Pei Yunshu shot him a reproachful glance, then turned back to watch the sleeping infant, growing more delighted the longer she looked. “When they induced labor that day, I worried about what we’d do with her being premature and weak, but now I feel somewhat relieved.”

These past few days, several doctors from the Imperial Medical Office had visited, all saying the child was very healthy. The baby ate and slept well, and as for the “infant’s sorrow” poison, though not eliminated, according to Lu Tong, there was no longer any threat to her life.

Thinking of Lu Tong, Pei Yunshu suddenly spoke: “Aying, we owe so much to Doctor Lu. She’s Baozhu’s lifesaving benefactor. I was thinking of inviting her to the manor for Baozhu’s full-month celebration. She left in such a hurry last time, I haven’t properly thanked her.”

Pei Yunying laughed softly, “Sure.” He handed the filled hot water bottle to Pei Yunshu.

Pei Yunshu took it, holding it in her hands. The weather was growing colder, with nights turning chilly. Lu Tong had forbidden layering the new mother with multiple blankets, but the manor’s wet nurse insisted that women must avoid catching a cold after childbirth. After much debate, they reached a compromise – even without braziers in the room, there was no need for three layers of quilts.

“Sister.”

Pei Yunying suddenly spoke.

“What is it?”

He didn’t speak immediately, just sat at the table, lost in thought. After a moment of silence, he asked: “Do you want to leave the Prince’s Manor?”

Pei Yunshu froze.

It seemed a tacit taboo had been broached, and the room fell into silence.

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

At first, 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 petition the Emperor, and demanding punishment for Pei Yunying’s arrogant and disrespectful behavior. However, whatever Pei Yunying had said to the Emperor, Mu Sheng never received the imperial punishment he awaited.

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

Firstly, Pei Yunshu had given birth to a daughter, which Mu Sheng considered unimportant. Secondly, he wanted to use this to vent his anger at Pei Yunshu.

Unable to deal with Pei Yunying, he could still neglect Pei Yunshu. By treating her coldly, the entire Prince’s Manor knew that after the Princess gave birth to a daughter, the Prince hadn’t set foot in her courtyard once. Pei Yunshu, always patient, would simply swallow this bitterness.

The humiliation Mu Sheng suffered from Pei Yunying, would return doubly upon Pei Yunshu. He had always been this way.

The wind outside was cold, the lamp flames flickered inside, and Pei Yunshu’s smile faded, her gaze growing distant.

Pei Yunying sat at the small table, carelessly playing with the lamp wick before him.

He said: “Even if not for yourself, won’t you think of Baozhu?” His gaze fell on the cradle, lingering on the little cat-like bundle for a moment. “Do you want her to live under the threat of hidden arrows forever?”

Pei Yunshu’s body trembled.

Since marrying into the Wen Prince Manor, she hadn’t cared about Mu Sheng’s neglect and humiliation. After all, Mu Sheng dared not openly break with the Pei family, and the Marquis of Zhaoning wouldn’t concern himself with her happiness. As long as she maintained her position as the Prince’s wife, that was enough. Pei Yunshu thought this way herself, living each year as if it were the same day.

But things were different now that she had Baozhu.

Baozhu had faced the world’s malice even before being born, and in the long years ahead, should she continue to be stalked by such ill will?

How cruel that would be.

Pei Yunshu lowered her head, looking at the infant in the cradle, ripples forming in her eyes as she said softly: “He won’t give me divorce papers.”

Mu Sheng was always obsessed with saving face. Now that Pei Yunying had taken away his beloved concubine and made him lose face before the manor servants, he must be harboring a fire of rage, and wouldn’t easily let her go. Mu Sheng wouldn’t beat or scold her, he would just treat her coldly, letting her waste away aimlessly in the Prince’s Manor, gradually withering into stagnant water.

“Divorce papers?”

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

Pei Yunshu started.

“I’ll make him escort you out respectfully, not daring to speak a word against you.”

Pei Yunshu’s brows furrowed slightly, feeling inexplicably uneasy. “What are you planning to do? Don’t do anything rash.” She hesitated, “Besides, father’s side…”

In noble families’ marriages, sometimes the marriage itself was the least important thing. Once she left the Prince’s Manor, the relationship between the Pei and Mu families would need to be reassessed.

“Why worry about him? Leave this to me.” He rose and walked to the cradle, reaching out to touch the baby’s round cheeks. The infant seemed to sense something, making tiny sounds, so he withdrew his hand, smiling as he gazed at the little cat in the cradle.

“You just worry about the full-month celebration invitations. One reminder though – that Doctor Lu is very busy and particularly dislikes the nobility, so she might not come to the banquet.”

His lashes lowered, hiding the surging waves in his eyes as he smiled: “We should send the invitations early.”

……

In the Criminal Court prison, the night was especially quiet.

Wall torches burned silently, casting grotesquely elongated shadows on the ground. The darkness deepened further in, with only dim moonlight filtering through the barred windows above, spreading a layer of frost on the ground.

A figure huddled in the hay, clothes in tatters, hair and face filthy, hands buried in the straw, trying to ward off the night’s cold with damp hay.

Tap, tap, tap.

Footsteps echoed, especially clear in the silent night.

Fan Zhenglian turned over without opening his eyes. At this hour, it must be the guard making rounds.

But the footsteps stopped at his cell door, followed by the rustle of locks as someone opened the iron gate.

Fan Zhenglian sat up groggily, peering through the dim torchlight to see an unfamiliar guard standing before him, turning to close the door.

Seeing this unfamiliar guard, not the usual bastard who always looked skyward, he felt confused. Then the man looked at him and called softly: “Official Fan?”

Fan Zhenglian startled, forgetting everything else as he scrambled up, tentatively responding: “Are you from the Qi mansion?”

The guard nodded.

Fan Zhenglian was instantly overjoyed.

Since that day he’d seen Qi Chuan, he had waited anxiously in prison. Though the Lu family was insignificant as ants to the Grand Tutor’s mansion, Grand Tutor Qi cherished his children’s reputations and would never allow anything to tarnish Young Master Qi’s name. As long as he dangled the Lu family matter as bait, even if the Grand Tutor’s mansion wouldn’t help him, they couldn’t remain indifferent.

That was his thinking, but several days passed without any sign of Qi Chuan. Fan Zhenglian partly doubted whether Qi Chuan had actually contacted the Grand Tutor’s mansion as instructed, and partly worried that the mansion had learned of the matter but didn’t care, ultimately choosing to ignore his plight.

After waiting several days, his heart grew cold, and even Fan Zhenglian himself began to despair. He never expected someone would appear tonight as if descending 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, though confusion lingered in his heart.

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

Suppressing his doubts, he asked the man before him: “Do you have a message for me, sir?”

The guard shook his head.

“Then this is…”

“Shh—” The other made a silencing gesture, and Fan Zhenglian immediately fell quiet.

Due to the case’s complexity, he had been placed in the innermost cell of the Criminal Court prison, with no prisoners nearby. The guard gave him a meaningful look, gesturing him to move forward.

This was… a prison break?

Fan Zhenglian froze for a moment.

He had wanted the Grand Tutor’s mansion to help him – given Grand Tutor Qi’s current position at court, just a word before His Majesty could turn the case around. Yet they were directly removing him from the Criminal Court. Though this would save his life, he could never again appear openly in public, let alone stage a comeback.

Fan Zhenglian was unwilling, but powerless to resist, so he could only bow his head.

He had to swallow his words and walk toward the cell door. Moonlight followed behind him, casting wild shadows on the ground. After a few steps, he felt something was strange.

Something wasn’t right.

If the Grand Tutor’s mansion truly wanted to save him, why would they send someone personally? This was a major case, with countless eyes watching. If he left this prison today, the city would certainly conduct a massive search. Wouldn’t the Grand Tutor’s mansion fear getting involved?

His heart tightened, but before he could turn around, a sudden, sharp pain shot through his neck as a thumb-thick hemp rope tightly gripped his throat!

“No—”

His voice vanished in the dark prison. His hands desperately clawed at the noose around his neck, legs kicking wildly as he tried to break free from his captor’s grip, but his strength was pitiful against his attacker.

He couldn’t even see the other’s expression. Tears of terror streamed 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 mansion wouldn’t help him, why would they silence him before the letter appeared? Weren’t they afraid the letter might spread everywhere?

The pressure on his neck grew stronger, and he gradually felt suffocated. Tears streaming down his face, he wanted to beg for mercy, to scream and shout, to wake anyone else in the prison – even just one person would do. But he couldn’t make a sound, only desperately feeling his life slipping away.

He regretted it now. He shouldn’t have provoked the Grand Tutor’s mansion, shouldn’t have taken that letter. Going back further, when that Lu boy first found him, he shouldn’t have immediately given in to greed and informed the Qi family. And when he received the complaint, he shouldn’t have thrown him in prison and tortured him.

That boy, that Lu boy, what was his name?

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

The young man in old clothes, his noble bearing impossible to conceal, eyes burning bright with anger. He had stopped his sedan chair, showing him the evidence one by one. He had come from a small county thousands of miles away, crossing rivers and roads, kneeling before him, pleading: “I beg you, sir, give my sister justice!”

He had been rushing to a banquet then, initially impatient to deal with it, but stopped abruptly upon hearing the words “Grand Tutor’s mansion.”

The Grand Tutor’s mansion…

Such connections couldn’t be bought even if one begged.

Sending such a favor their way, how could his official career not prosper? He had calculated how much benefit he could gain, blind to the young man’s tears and anger.

Just a woman whose virtue was violated, just a dead woman, just a teacher’s family…

What was the big deal?

When commoners fought with officials, only the commoners suffered in the end. He had looked at the young man straight back, thinking he was just a bookworm who had read too much and didn’t understand the world’s hardships. So he had kindly helped the person up from the ground, saying angrily: “Such an outrageous crime, don’t worry, this official will certainly restore your sister’s honor.”

Then immediately informed the Grand Tutor’s mansion.

But that young man had been clever, somehow learning of his intentions and escaping right under his nose. He had already boasted to Young Master Qi and needed to explain, so he had no choice but to post wanted notices. Heaven had eyes, and he managed to catch him.

The young man’s uncle had brought him back.

All for a hundred taels of silver.

Looking at the unconscious person, like viewing a recovered treasure, he felt smug. See? This was how common people were – give them a little sweetener, and brother would turn against brother, relative against relative. They would do anything.

He had brought the Lu boy back to prison, having already forgotten what he looked like. To him, that young man was just a stepping stone in his official career, a token of loyalty to curry favor with the Grand Tutor’s mansion – grass, an ant, everything insignificant. He had never taken such lowly people seriously. Even the entire Lu family together were just a few worthless lives.

They couldn’t cause any waves.

If he wanted, he could easily make them suffer.

Yet somehow, at death’s door, he saw the other’s image with perfect clarity.

The young man stood before him in the dark prison, his worn clothes unable to hide his elegant bearing.

Fan Zhenglian had always disliked scholars, hated their loftiness, hated their self-importance, hated how they made his murky nature seem even more despicable in comparison.

That young man, about to be bound with rope, facing death, remained fearless, saying calmly: “Heaven is impartial, karma never fails. Though justice may be delayed in prison, there will come a day of clear judgment.”

He looked at Fan Zhenglian, contempt unconcealed in his eyes: “Fan Zhenglian, you will face retribution.”

You will face retribution.

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

“Crack—”

A slight breaking sound.

Then a dull thud as something was thrown to the ground, raising a small cloud of dust.

Someone walked across the dry straw, and the prison returned to silence.

Only the person on the ground lay like a dead dog, in prison clothes and chains, head twisted toward the small window in the high prison wall, pupils widely dilated, reflecting the moon’s pale shadow.

The moon flowed out of those lifeless eyes, losing some of its deathly pallor as it passed over the capital’s streets and taverns.

The Renhe Inn was lively at night.

The restaurant was packed, buzzing with voices. Du Changqing invited everyone to sit at the table, sighing at the feast before them.

The Mid-Autumn feast of the eighth month is only eaten in the ninth month. Though there was no moon to appreciate, at least the dishes remained – not a complete waste.

In the next room, diners discussed the recent examination fraud case, speaking of the legendary scholar who returned from death, of the strange rumors about the Grand Tutor’s mansion circulating in the capital, and finally, of that once-celebrated Criminal Review Official now languishing in prison.

“Fan Zhenglian was once so successful in the capital, rising to Criminal Review Official in just a few short years. I thought his career would climb even higher, who knew—”

“As they say, glory and disgrace roll like a wheel, circumstances truly change in an instant!”

“Indeed, you think climbing the official ladder is just going up step by step, but one wrong move before you’re steady, and you don’t even know what killed you!”

The bubbling discussions crossed the table, reaching Lu Tong’s ears. She listened expressionlessly, her expression slightly contained.

She had spread rumors near Qi Chuan’s home about the court planning to investigate past examination fraud cases. Qi Chuan, guilty-conscious, would certainly seek his way out. And the best path, the safest method, was to ensure Fan Zhenglian could never speak again.

She had intended to use Qi Chuan’s hand to kill but hadn’t expected Qi Chuan to think the same way, much less spread rumors about the Grand Tutor’s mansion.

This was truly brilliant.

Regardless of how the Grand Tutor’s mansion felt about this matter, the Qi family, whose reputation had been “damaged,” would certainly not spare Fan Zhenglian. His fate was predictable.

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

Fan Zhenglian had used the Lu family’s lives as a token to curry favor with the Grand Tutor’s mansion; she had tempted Qi Chuan to use Fan Zhenglian’s life as a token to curry favor with another family.

Fan Zhenglian had made Lu Qian suffer in prison; she had made Fan Zhenglian suffer imprisonment as well.

Before the examination case, Lu Tong had met Liu Kun and learned of Fan Zhenglian’s crimes against the Lu family. Yin Zheng had asked her: “Miss, what do you plan to do? Will you poison him and take his life?”

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

She hadn’t planned to act directly. If she killed Fan Zhenglian, he would still be a pure and upright official, and some commoners might even lament his death.

Fan Zhenglian wanted to advance his career; she would make his official star fall. He wanted a good reputation; she would make him infamous and abandoned.

She would make everything he had painstakingly built become nothing but bubbles, make those he had pledged loyalty to personally send him to his death. Fan Zhenglian had viewed the Lu family as grass; she would make him experience how, in the eyes of those in higher positions, he too was merely grass.

Du Changqing complained: “Such a nice Mid-Autumn feast, but now the moon isn’t even full. Eating feels tasteless – what a waste.”

Lu Tong turned to look outside: “Is that so?”

Du Changqing: “Isn’t it!”

Past the fifteenth, the moon wasn’t as round and bright as before, like a thin, sharp guillotine hanging in the sky with silver light, ready to cut through the world’s injustices.

In the bustling hall around them, diners raised cups and made toasts at their tables, celebrating some unknown good fortune.

Lu Tong lowered her head, and the distant moon at the horizon fell into her wine cup, creating small ripples.

“I think today’s moon is more beautiful.”

She raised her cup, smiling as she drained the wine.