On the ninth day of the first lunar month.
Cui Xun, still recuperating from illness at home, received a brocade box delivered early in the morning by a minor clerk from the Investigation Department. The clerk said, “This was sent by the ghost merchant Yu Fuwei.”
Cui Xun opened it to find nine neatly arranged gold ingots inside.
He raised his eyebrows, surprised that the delicate little princess had succeeded in obtaining the yang ingots.
He took out one gold ingot from the brocade box, weighed it in his hand, then handed it to the clerk: “Take this gold ingot to Cao Kun at the Dali Temple, and tell him I want the case files of Princess Yong’an from the thirtieth year of Taichang.”
The clerk found this somewhat strange but didn’t dare to ask questions. He accepted the gold ingot respectfully and agreed.
After the clerk left, Cui Xun summoned his mute old servant. He pointed to the remaining eight gold ingots in the brocade box, then closed it and said, “The money inside, use the usual method.”
The mute servant nodded, took the brocade box, and left. Cui Xun knelt at his desk, where a bamboo scroll lay with densely written names. Cui Xun held a wolf-hair brush, dipped it in cinnabar, and drew an X over the characters “Wang Liang.”
He closed the bamboo scroll and fell into deep thought. At that moment, the clerk returned, bringing Li Ying’s case files.
The clerk vividly described: “When Cao Kun saw the gold ingot, his eyes lit up, and he immediately agreed to fetch Princess Yong’an’s case files. The Deputy Minister was right that Cao Kun is indeed greedy for wealth.”
Cui Xun took the files and opened them, carefully reading through. The clerk presented a pot of grape wine, respectfully placing it on the desk: “Deputy Minister, this is a gift from Lu Siye. He has been reassigned to the Dali Temple today and specially sent this fine grape wine to you. I suspect Lu Siye is trying to curry favor with you.”
Cui Xun didn’t even glance at the grape wine, but casually said: “Just leave it there.”
After the clerk withdrew, Cui Xun continued studying Li Ying’s files. Before he knew it, the sun had set in the west, and six hundred evening drum beats sounded from Chengchuan Gate. As the bustle of the markets gradually subsided, Cui Xun closed the files. He coughed lightly twice, then suddenly felt something odd.
Wasn’t the little princess in a hurry to find out who had killed her? She had gone to great lengths to exchange for the yang ingots, yet she hadn’t appeared all day.
He couldn’t help but look outside the window. Suddenly, the door creaked open. It wasn’t Li Ying but the mute servant.
The mute servant carefully placed a celadon bowl with steaming medicinal brew on the desk, then began gesturing. Cui Xun asked: “Did you complete the task I assigned you?”
The mute servant nodded and gestured some more. Cui Xun said quietly: “You say Cao Fifth’s mother has passed away?”
The mute servant nodded again. From his gestures, one could vaguely make out the phrases “could not bear the humiliation” and “hanged herself.” Cui Xun remained silent for a long while before finally saying just three words: “I understand.”
After the mute servant left, Cui Xun remained quiet for a long time. The wooden window wasn’t properly closed, allowing piercing cold wind to seep through the cracks, chilling to the bone. Cui Xun felt a sweet metallic taste in his throat. He coughed violently several times. The celadon bowl of medicinal brew on the desk had already cooled, emitting the pungent smell of cinnamon twigs, ephedra, and other herbs mixed. Cui Xun picked up the celadon bowl, about to drink the medicine, but the acrid, sour, bitter smell made him nauseous. He didn’t drink it but instead discarded the bowl. Instead, he casually picked up the grape wine gifted by Lu Siye from the desk. He rose unsteadily and walked to the door, pushing it open.
Outside, it had begun snowing heavily. Snowflakes drifted down like willow catkins, covering the courtyard in pristine white. Candlelight from the hexagonal lanterns hanging under the corridor eaves cast a soft glow on the silver snow. A full moon hung in the sky, complementing the cold night and white snow. Amid this beautiful scene, Cui Xun, wearing a white sable fur coat, sat cross-legged against a corridor pillar. As he watched the dancing snowflakes, he suddenly heard in his mind the cheerful laughter of a young man:
“Seventeenth Brother, the snow is so heavy, let’s compete tomorrow instead!”
“Are you afraid?”
“Nonsense, who’s afraid? Let’s compete!”
Among the snowflakes, the youth stood tall like a pine tree, his sword moving like a swimming snake. Cheers constantly erupted from the surrounding crowd: “Seventeenth Brother! Cao Fifth! Great swordsmanship! Excellent! Excellent!”
The snow fell heavier, the color of the snowflakes gradually intertwining with the silver of the swords. Watching the snowflakes, Cui Xun suddenly felt a tightness in his chest that momentarily prevented him from breathing. He began coughing violently, the fit so severe that his pale face flushed with color. His wrist, thin to the point of being skeletal, instinctively reached for the lotus-patterned phoenix-headed wine pitcher on the ground. But perhaps due to weakness, he failed to grasp it after several attempts. Finally, he managed to grip the handle. With a trembling hand, Cui Xun no longer bothered to pour the grape wine into a gold cup but instead drank directly from the pitcher. After a few gulps, his coughing only worsened.
He coughed a few times but still wanted another drink. However, when he gripped the wine pitcher, he noticed the lotus pattern on it.
Cui Xun paused. He pressed his lips together and stopped drinking. As if touching a snake or scorpion, he threw the pitcher far away in disgust. The white sable fur coat he wore was stained with splashed grape wine, the once immaculate fur now blotched with blood-red stains. Cui Xun simply unfastened the fur coat and flung it away.
In the vast whiteness, Cui Xun sat against the corridor pillar in his crimson everyday robe, covering his sleeve as he coughed violently. He looked at the snowflakes filling the sky, his gaze empty, as if looking through them toward distant desert sands.
As snowflakes drifted down, a young woman appeared under the moonlight, holding an oil-paper umbrella. She wore a white fox fur cape, walking quietly through the snow, her pace neither fast nor slow.
Li Ying slowly approached Cui Xun. She closed her oil-paper umbrella, shaking off the accumulated snow, then glanced at the lotus-patterned phoenix-headed wine pitcher on the ground and the discarded, soiled white sable fur coat. Without saying anything, she sat down beside the violently coughing Cui Xun and said, “I have wine too. Do you dare to drink it?”
Cui Xun stopped coughing and replied calmly: “Why wouldn’t I dare?”
Li Ying’s wine was sacrificial. She sat cross-legged beside Cui Xun, poured a cup of fresh green ant wine, and handed it to him. Cui Xun drank it in one gulp. Li Ying also raised her gold cup and drank. After one cup, she choked and coughed twice. Cui Xun raised his eyebrows, looking at her with a sneer: “So the princess doesn’t know how to drink.”
Li Ying honestly admitted, “I indeed don’t like alcohol.”
Cui Xun poured himself another cup. He tilted his head back and drained it in one go. Putting down the cup, he said calmly to Li Ying: “If you don’t like alcohol, why drink it?”
Li Ying glanced at Cui Xun, who lowered his head and coughed lightly after finishing his drink: “You’re ill, yet you drink wine instead of medicine. How are you any different from me?”
Hearing this, Cui Xun gave a rare light laugh. Li Ying poured another cup of wine, but this time she didn’t drink it in one go, instead taking small sips. Li Ying drank slowly while Cui Xun drank quickly. Neither spoke much as they sat cross-legged in the corridor, quietly watching the clear moonlight and the drifting snowflakes. The wine quickly ran out. Li Ying took her last sip and suddenly said, “I went to see Yu Fuwei last night.”
Cui Xun finally spoke: “That man is unrestrained and cynical, especially hateful toward aristocratic families. I suppose he didn’t say anything pleasant.”
Li Ying said, “He was indeed quite discourteous. But he told me that my death changed the fate of all commoner families in the empire, as well as the destiny of the Great Zhou Dynasty.”
She took a deep breath, turned her head to look at Cui Xun: “Is that true?”
So that’s why she hadn’t appeared all day—her heart was wounded by these words.
But Cui Xun’s eyes remained as cold and calm as water. He said: “Yes.”
Li Ying pressed her lips together and smiled bitterly: “It seems my death was a great benefit to the country and its people.”
She suddenly felt cold and tightened her fox fur cape, murmuring: “I never did anything bad in my life, yet in the end, even my death could bring blessings to thousands. Is this my fortune?”
Cui Xun didn’t comfort her but said, “The Dali Temple has sent your case files. If you don’t want to look at them, you don’t have to.”
Li Ying held the gold cup in her hand. No matter how long she held it, the cup would never adopt the warmth of a living person. The cup in her palm remained as cold as ice. Li Ying tugged at the corner of her mouth and shook her head: “I want to see them.”
She said softly, “I’ve been thinking all day and have come to terms with it. Although for thirty years, the world may have been celebrating my death, celebrating that my death gave the Great Zhou an opportunity for reform, it doesn’t mean I did anything wrong. I did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have died. I want to investigate the truth. I need to give myself closure.”
By the end, her words had become increasingly determined. Cui Xun couldn’t help but turn to look at her. After a moment, he looked away and said quietly: “If that’s the case, let’s examine the files.”
The wine was finished, but the case remained unsolved.
Cui Xun and Li Ying went inside. Cui Xun walked in front, his crimson everyday robe dampened by snowflakes, clinging to his body, making his waist, cinched with a stepladder belt, appear even more slender like bamboo. Li Ying suddenly paused in her steps. She turned around, closed the wooden door, and then closed the slightly ajar wooden window, shutting out the howling cold wind and the flying snowflakes.
Cui Xun had already picked up the bamboo scroll from the desk. He coughed twice, then handed it to Li Ying, saying: “These are your case files.”
Li Ying didn’t take them. Instead, she glanced at the celadon bowl of medicine on the table. The medicine had gone completely cold. Li Ying bent down to pick up the celadon bowl. A faint glow appeared in her palm, and the medicine in the bowl gradually warmed up.
Li Ying smiled slightly, mocking herself: “Being a ghost seems to have some benefits after all.”
She handed the celadon bowl to Cui Xun: “You seem to be very ill. You should drink your medicine first.”
Cui Xun looked at the celadon bowl. He pressed his lips together without saying a word. Li Ying paused, suddenly remembering something. She took out a piece of sugar frost from the multicolored lotus sachet with peony patterns hanging from her belt, placed it in the medicinal brew, and said: “My father also feared taking medicine. He was afraid of the bitterness, so I would put sugar frosting in his medicine. After that, the medicine wasn’t so bitter. Try it?”
Cui Xun still showed no intention of accepting it. Li Ying sighed and said, “I know you probably have many things on your mind, but no matter what, only by living do all possibilities remain. You don’t know how much I envy your being alive…”
Her voice was very soft as she spoke, her gaze sincere. The white fox fur cape she wore was as pure white as snow. She had no confidence that Cui Xun would accept her persuasion. She was just thinking that since Cui Xun was helping her investigate the case, she couldn’t simply watch him mistreat his body without doing anything. Just as she was pondering how to continue persuading him to drink the medicine, to her surprise, Cui Xun suddenly took the celadon bowl from her hand and drank it all in one go.