On the way back to Chang’an, both remained silent.

Finally, Li Ying asked Yu Fuwei why he had previously sent her to the City of Wrongful Deaths, and why he was now willing to take her back to Chang’an. Yu Fuwei didn’t answer directly, only saying: “After Zheng Yun died, he fell into the evil paths and was imprisoned in the City of Wrongful Deaths.”

Li Ying was slightly startled. Yu Fuwei continued: “Facing those who died because of him, his guilt was immeasurable. Day by day, month by month, his resentment grew heavier. To help him overcome this, the Ten Kings of Hell had him reincarnated as Yu Fuwei, someone opposite to his former self.”

In his previous life, Zheng Yun had achieved nothing, yet could enjoy generous rewards and high positions simply because of his birth. This was precisely the type of person that Yu Fuwei in this life despised most. The Ten Kings of Hell deliberately took away his identity as a member of a prestigious family, making him one of the lowest members of society, constantly scorned and humiliated by people just like his former self. They made it impossible for him to realize his ideals or serve his country, turning what was white in his previous life to black in this life, and what was black before to white now.

Yu Fuwei murmured: “After one grand dream, I finally understand what is right or wrong, correct or incorrect. Since there’s no way to debate right from wrong, rather than dwelling on the past, it’s better to exchange yesterday’s death for today’s life.”

He said: “Before, because I admired the Princess and was concerned for her safety, I wanted to send her to the City of Wrongful Deaths to prevent her from dying alongside Cui Xun. But now, I understand—some deaths weigh heavier than Mount Tai, while others are lighter than goose feathers. Personal love, life, and grievances, when compared to things that weigh more than Mount Tai, are as light as feathers.”

He gazed at Li Ying, his eyes mixed with bitterness, sincerity, and indescribable complexity: “Cui Xun deserves the Princess’s rescue, and the Princess deserves Cui Xun’s deep love. Cui Xun is a son of the Great Zhou, and the Princess is a princess of the Great Zhou.”

As the carriage wheels rattled, Li Ying bit her lip, her eyes filled with tears. She was afraid to ask, but asked anyway: “Cui Xun… how is he?”

Yu Fuwei lowered his head and sighed: “Not good. He’s imprisoned and under torture; all ten fingers have been mutilated. In today’s world, only the Princess can save him.”

Inside the Dali Temple, the Three Departments conducted day and night interrogations, turning it into a human hell. But outside the Dali Temple, Li Ying wasn’t the only one still struggling to help.

He Shisan and several youths stood outside the Xuanwu Gate, looking at the petition drum that was as tall as a person. One youth swallowed nervously and asked He Shisan timidly: “Are we going to do this?”

He Shisan’s expression was impassive: “Think about where the money for your mother’s medical treatment came from. Think about who bought the coffin when your father died.”

The youth’s eyes grew hot, and he lowered his head.

He Shisan said: “I don’t care what he did as the Deputy Director of the Investigation Department—those dirty power struggles that I don’t understand anyway. I only know that without him, we wouldn’t have survived these past few years, let alone had the good life we have now. Even animals know to repay kindness—don’t humans know this too?”

The youths’ hearts surged with emotion: “Good, let’s do it!”

He Shisan was the first to stride toward the petition drum. He took up the drumstick and began to beat it loudly: “Injustice! Injustice!”

The Jinwu Guards watching over the petition drum glanced at each other and quickly went to report to the Gate Guards. Only when more and more citizens gathered outside the Xuanwu Gate did the Left Gate Guard arrive. He scolded: “What are you doing?”

He Shisan shouted: “Injustice! I want to petition against an injustice!”

“Have you already reported to the county, prefecture, and Dali Temple? If not, this counts as skipping levels of appeal! Considering you’re ignorant children, go home quickly!”

“What do you mean by skipping levels? Except for beating this petition drum, which county or prefecture would dare accept my petition?”

“What exactly are you reporting?”

“I’m reporting you all for wronging my brother!”

“Who is your brother?”

He Shisan lifted his head and chest proudly, shouting out the name he had once despised the most: “Cui Xun! You’ve wronged him!”

The Left Gate Guard was stunned. He Shisan shouted: “He beat the petition drum—why did you imprison him in the Dali Temple without any investigation? You call it joint interrogation by the Three Departments, but it’s torture to extract confessions! If His Majesty hadn’t colluded with the Turks, if the Empress Dowager hadn’t protected her son, why would they fear an investigation? Why don’t you investigate the accused, but instead torture the accuser?”

The Left Gate Guard trembled with fear and pointed at He Shisan: “Rebellion! Rebellion!”

The Jinwu Guards swarmed forward, striking He Shisan with their scabbards. He Shisan was kicked to the ground but still shouted to the watching crowd: “Isn’t the petition drum for reporting injustice? Can it not be struck when it involves the Empress Dowager and His Majesty? Or is the saying that ‘when a prince breaks the law, he should be punished the same as a commoner’ just a lie to fool us!”

The citizens were dumbfounded. The other Tianwei Army youths surged forward, all shouting “Injustice!” and beating the drum. When one person was beaten to the ground, another would pick up the drumstick and continue. In front of the petition drum, the ground was covered with blood. The youths, disregarding their lives, continued one after another, just like their older brothers who, six years ago at Luyan Ridge, knowing they would certainly die, had raised their swords and charged at the Turks’ iron cavalry.

In the Penglai Palace, the Empress Dowager sat behind a pearl curtain, listening silently to the rise and fall of the drum beats. The Left Gate Guard reported to her with trepidation: “They’re all twelve or thirteen-year-old troublemakers who can’t be driven away or frightened off. Your servant has already imprisoned them all, but more troublemakers keep coming to beat the petition drum. Your servant believes they are slandering His Majesty, and we should execute some as a warning to others.”

The Empress Dowager’s expression was cold: “You mean, kill twelve or thirteen-year-old children?”

“But they’re causing trouble and rebelling, committing treason…”

“Just keep them imprisoned for now,” the Empress Dowager said wearily. “Lock them up one by one. Eventually, they’ll stop coming.”

The Left Gate Guard answered “Yes,” then continued: “These troublemakers are beating the petition drum without permission, damaging the reputation of Your Highness and His Majesty. Your servant believes we should first deploy the Jinwu Guards to protect the petition drum, prohibiting citizens from striking it, and deal with this matter after the situation has settled.”

The Empress Dowager didn’t indicate approval or disapproval. The Left Gate Guard left with his orders and met Lu Huai, who was waiting outside the hall wearing crimson official robes. When the Empress Dowager summoned him, Lu Huai knelt, kowtowed, and then rose, sarcastically saying: “Since ancient times, there has never been a dynasty that forbade beating the petition drum. The Great Zhou seems to be setting a precedent.”

The Empress Dowager raised her eyes to look at him. Lu Huai had lost considerable weight. He had dug up Wang Xuan’s body from the wilderness outside Changchun Temple. Wang Xuan’s corpse had already begun to decay, but one could still see the terrible torture this frail scholar had endured before death. Lu Huai’s hands trembled as he caressed his close friend, then wept until he fainted several times in front of Wang Xuan’s remains.

After sending Wang Xuan’s body back to the Wang family, Wang Xuan’s wife and two children cried until they were heartbroken. Lu Huai repeatedly promised to take care of their future livelihood, but this couldn’t alleviate their grief over losing a husband and father. Surprisingly, Wang Xuan’s elderly mother was calm. She told Lu Huai, “My son died for righteousness, leaving behind an honorable name. He lived a fulfilled life—why should we grieve?”

Lu Huai was deeply moved. After carefully choosing his words, he asked Wang Xuan’s mother, a servant born to the Wang clan of Langya: “Between righteousness and loyalty, which would you choose?”

Wang Xuan’s mother said: “Righteousness is true righteousness, while loyalty can be blind loyalty.”

The choice was obvious without further explanation.

During this period, the Empress Dowager seemed to have lost all her spirit. Her once raven-black hair now had several strands of white at the temples, and her eyes had lost their former sharp brilliance. She remained silent even in response to Lu Huai’s sarcastic remarks. She said, “Lord Lu, previously I ordered you to return home to await punishment and prohibited you from participating in the joint interrogation by the Three Departments. I have indeed treated you coldly. But you privately released Cui Xun, and I must give His Majesty and the court officials an explanation. After this matter is settled, you may return to the Dali Temple.”

Lu Huai shook his head: “I will not return to the Dali Temple.”

The Empress Dowager was somewhat surprised. Lu Huai said: “My uncle was arrested by my own hands. He took poison in his residence. Before his death, he made me promise to be loyal to the emperor and serve my lord, and not let unworthy people harm His Majesty.”

Lu Huai slowly continued: “The four words ‘loyal to the emperor and serve one’s lord’ have always been my uncle’s principle as an official, as well as mine. But these days, I’ve been thinking—as a subject, one should indeed be loyal to the emperor and serve one’s lord. But what if the emperor is wrong? What if the lord is wrong? Should one still be loyal and serve? Though I am a subject of the Great Zhou, I am also a human being. As a human being, should I be loyal to the emperor, or loyal to principles?”

His eyes were resolute, indicating he had already found his answer. The Empress Dowager behind the pearl curtain remained silent. Lu Huai listened to the sound of the petition drum outside the hall and said, “My uncle raised me, and I used to follow his words without question. But this time, I fear I must disobey. As a human being, I must seek my principles. This process might cost me my life, but I am willing to pay that price.”

His words caused a trace of bewilderment to cross the Empress Dowager’s face. Loyal ministers, common people—she was opposing them all for the sake of her beloved son. Did she still remember, once upon a time, when she didn’t even have a pair of shoes to wear, when she looked up at the majestic and solemn Daming Palace, the bold thought that had flashed through her mind:

Is my dream just to be the concubine of the most powerful person in the world?

Couldn’t I ensure that all the people of the Great Zhou have shoes to wear?

Even though I am a woman, can’t I have such aspirations?

What men can achieve, I can achieve too.

The Empress Dowager’s expression was distant. Lu Huai continued: “I will not serve as an official, nor will I return to the Dali Temple. The instruments of torture at the Dali Temple should not be used to torture a person with a pure heart.”

His gaze penetrated through the swaying pearl curtain, hoping the Empress Dowager would speak a word of mercy for the man whose ten fingers had been mutilated. But he waited for a long time and heard nothing. Finally, his heart filled with complete disappointment. He knelt, kowtowed heavily, and took out a damaged peony-patterned five-colored brocade pouch from his sleeve: “I must leave now. The path ahead is long, and before me lies a road to certain death. But before I die, I wish to present this item to Your Highness.”

An attendant handed the pouch to the Empress Dowager. As soon as she received it, her fingers began to tremble violently. Disregarding etiquette, she stood up, lifted the pearl curtain, and quickly walked to Lu Huai: “This pouch—where did you get it?”

Lu Huai replied: “This is Cui Xun’s item. It came into my possession when he was imprisoned. Because it was damaged, I initially wanted to have it repaired, but after searching throughout Chang’an, no one could fix it. Finally, from an elderly palace maid, I learned this was a pouch belonging to Princess Yong’an from thirty years ago.”

Through the damaged part of the pouch, two bundles of hair tied with red cord were visible.

Lu Huai calmly said, “As for why Cui Xun would have Princess Yong’an’s pouch, I do not know. Perhaps Your Highness could ask Cui Xun—though if the torture by the Three Departments continues, I fear Cui Xun may no longer be able to speak.”

The Empress Dowager was stunned. She stared fixedly at the bundles of hair in the pouch and, almost incoherently, ordered her attendant harshly: “Issue an order! Tell the Three Departments to stop the torture! Go ask him! Ask him why he has this pouch!”

But the attendant the Empress Dowager sent could not get a single word out of Cui Xun.

Even when the Empress Dowager came personally, he remained silent.

The Empress Dowager had visited the Dali Temple twice in her life—the previous time and this time. The previous time, three years ago, she had defied everyone’s pressure and rescued Cui Xun from prison. This time, again to everyone’s surprise, she came to the filthy, bloody prison of the Dali Temple, clutching the pouch and asking Cui Xun in his cell: “Where did this pouch come from?”

The previous time, Cui Xun’s desire to live had been extremely strong. He knew the Empress Dowager was the only one who could save him, so he had dragged his injured body to her feet, clutched her skirt, and promised to be a blade in her hands, begging her to rescue him from the Dali Temple. But this time, he seemed to have almost no desire to live and kept his eyes closed, ignoring the Empress Dowager’s questions.

He was thoroughly disappointed in her.

The Empress Dowager asked again: “Cui Xun, where did this pouch come from? Whose hair is inside?”

Cui Xun kept his eyes closed and remained silent. The Empress Dowager’s tone grew anxious: “Cui Xun, I am asking you a question!”

Cui Xun finally opened his eyes slowly. His already pale face had become even more ghastly due to the repeated torture. He coughed twice, causing excruciating pain from the wounds all over his body. He gave a light laugh: “I don’t wish to say.”

The Empress Dowager was dumbfounded: “You…”

“Your Highness is welcome to torture me,” Cui Xun said self-mockingly. His ten fingers were a bloody mess, no longer resembling their former clean, slender appearance. “Use the female torture instruments, just as His Majesty ordered.”

The Empress Dowager pressed her lips together tightly. She stared at Cui Xun’s fingers. A scholar may be killed but not humiliated. She felt increasingly sorrowful, realizing that the son she had been protecting so desperately was truly not a good person.

She bit her lip, turned, and left the cell. Before leaving, she clutched the pouch tightly and issued another strict order that no one, not even His Majesty, was permitted to torture Cui Xun further.

After the Empress Dowager left, Cui Xun could no longer hold on. He lay on the cold floor in a daze, covered in wounds, with pain throughout his body. As wave after wave of pain washed over him, his consciousness gradually slipped into unconsciousness.

But in his foggy state, the image of that figure, bright as the moon, became increasingly clear in his mind.

She should be in the City of Wrongful Deaths by now.

That was good.

Once the person who harmed her died, she could be reincarnated.

She wouldn’t have to stay here with him, watching this filthy world, soiling her pure, crystal-like soul.

Half-conscious, he didn’t notice that at some point, the jailers had come in and out, removing all the evil-repelling objects and the bright yellow talismans that drove away ghosts from the Dali Temple prison.

A delicate hand gently touched his bloodied fingers.

Someone was crying, crying very sorrowfully. A teardrop fell onto his fingers.

The salty tear fell on his wound, causing him to flinch in pain. He slowly opened his eyes, but his gaze suddenly froze: “Mingyue… Zhu?”