The subordinate was named Ji Gang, a Jinyiwei minor flag officer with red lips, white teeth, and feminine features. Because of his good looks, he usually held flags in the front row during His Majesty’s processions.
Good looks have been an advantage in both ancient and modern times. Ji Gang was not a rash person—he first went to the harem to make inquiries, then returned to the Jinyiwei office to report back to his superior Mao Qiang.
At this time, on the martial arts training ground outside, Mu Chun was lying on a bench receiving twenty lashes. The executioner raised the paddle high, swinging it with great force and impressive technique.
Mu Chun broke out in a cold sweat, but when the paddle landed on his buttocks, it didn’t hurt as much as he had imagined. Mu Chun figured out the trick and deliberately wailed loudly:
“Ah! It hurts!”
“It’s killing me!”
“I probably won’t be able to ride a horse for three days!”
Since they were showing mercy, he couldn’t expose it—he had to cooperate.
Accompanied by Mu Chun’s exaggerated screams, Mao Qiang buried his head in intelligence reports and asked: “Is the matter handled? When will she leave the palace?”
Ji Gang chuckled: “No—Commander Mao, Hu Shanwei is not an ordinary palace servant who can be dismissed by finding random faults. She’s a female official who passed examinations to enter, and moreover, she’s been noticed by Her Majesty the Empress, receiving a pair of boots right after entering the palace. This matter is difficult to handle.”
Mao Qiang looked up from a pile of intelligence reports: “Why does Her Majesty the Empress favor her so much?”
Ji Gang pointed to Mu Chun screaming outside: “It’s all because of that precious golden treasure who can’t be beaten or scolded…”
Ji Gang recounted how Mu Chun had requested the Empress’s favor to present the shoes, making Mao Qiang even more puzzled: “For no reason at all, why would Mu Chun help her?”
Ji Gang said: “Commander Mao will have to ask Mu Chun that. Sir, we Jinyiwei and female officials have always minded our own business. For no apparent reason, why are you targeting Hu Shanwei? Did that girl once offend you? The new female officials are all studying palace regulations at the Palace Administration, and Director Fan manages them very strictly—it’s difficult for us to interfere.”
What had originally been a simple matter was becoming increasingly complicated. Mao Qiang was irritated: “I’m asking you to handle things, not listen to you ramble on with question after question. I’m just asking you—can you find a legitimate reason to expel Hu Shanwei from the palace without anyone knowing, without offending Director Fan, and without drawing Her Majesty the Empress’s attention?”
Ji Gang pondered for a moment: “Possible—after all, creating trouble from nothing is what we Jinyiwei do best. This subordinate takes his leave and will find a way.”
As Ji Gang reached the door, Mao Qiang added: “Just expel her from the palace—don’t hurt her or harm her life.”
The difficulty suddenly skyrocketed—like throwing a fragile piece of tofu out of the palace without damaging it. Ji Gang immediately felt a headache coming on but didn’t dare ask why again, agreeing reluctantly.
Mao Qiang looked at the mountain of intelligence reports on his desk with a worried expression. He really hadn’t expected this woman to still be unmarried and to have passed examinations to become a palace female official. This was troublesome now…
Mao Qiang was agitated and swept the intelligence reports flying with one palm, then strode to the training ground. At this time, Mu Chun lying on the bench was performing dramatically, his voice nearly hoarse—if you covered your eyes, it sounded exactly like mating calls!
Mao Qiang snatched the paddle from the executioner’s hands and swung it hard at his buttocks.
Mu Chun suddenly felt as if hot oil had been poured on his buttocks. The pain made him jump up from the bench immediately. Looking back, he saw it was actually Mao Qiang personally administering punishment!
Mao Qiang said coldly: “Lie down. Twenty lashes—still missing three.”
Mu Chun tried to curry favor with Mao Qiang: “Uncle, please spare your nephew—I’ll definitely repay you in the future.”
Mao Qiang: “Your surname is Mu, mine is Mao. What kind of nephew are you to me?”
But Mu Chun said: “You and my father were both His Majesty’s adopted sons. You addressed each other as brothers—a brother’s son is naturally your nephew, isn’t he?”
The Hongwu Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang had over twenty adopted sons. Mu Ying was the most outstanding, fighting on battlefields and being enfeoffed as Marquis Xiping. Mao Qiang was the most obscure, always staying by the Hongwu Emperor’s side as a personal guard, blocking arrows for his adoptive father—he was the Hongwu Emperor’s most trusted attendant.
So when the Hongwu Emperor established the confidential intelligence organization Jinyiwei, he appointed Mao Qiang as Jinyiwei Commander to serve as the emperor’s eyes and ears, monitoring the world.
The Jinyiwei became famous throughout the land for exterminating Chancellor Hu Weiyong’s entire family in a single day and imprisoning all officials who pleaded for Hu Weiyong, fabricating charges against them.
The previously obscure Mao Qiang suddenly became “infamous”—officials and commoners alike were terrified upon hearing his name.
To maintain loyalty, Mao Qiang remained single and unmarried without family burdens. Looking at this thick-skinned improvised nephew, the paddle felt heavy in his hands, somewhat reluctant to strike, though he said:
“To avoid beatings, you casually call others uncle. If your father knew, he definitely wouldn’t forgive you.”
Mu Chun said ingratiatingly: “You’re not just anyone—you’re already my father’s sworn brother. It’s perfectly appropriate for me to call you uncle.”
After speaking, Mu Chun circled around Mao Qiang continuously calling: “Uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle…”
As long as he didn’t get beaten, never mind calling him uncle—calling him godfather would be fine too.
Mao Qiang dropped the paddle: “You still owe three lashes—I’ll note them down. Next time you make mistakes, they’ll be added together. My good nephew, how did I hear you recently befriended a female official? How did you two meet?”
Mao Qiang was His Majesty’s eyes and ears. Mu Chun wondered whether His Majesty wanted to know or Mao Qiang wanted to know. He didn’t dare conceal anything—palace matters couldn’t be hidden anyway—so he recounted witnessing Hu Shanwei being abused by her stepmother at Hu Family Bookshop.
“…I saw that girl didn’t even have a pair of shoes—quite pitiful—so I requested Her Majesty the Empress to bestow a pair of boots.”
Mao Qiang mused: “That stepmother seemed acceptable before… how has the Hu family become so chaotic now?”
Mu Chun detected something suspicious: “Commander Mao knew Hu Shanwei before?”
Mao Qiang glared and changed the subject: “Don’t the Imperial Academy and Marquis Xiping’s mansion libraries compare to a civilian bookshop? Tell the truth—you repeatedly skipped classes to read at the bookshop. Did you fancy that girl?”
Mu Chun shook his head: “Books not borrowed cannot be read properly. I just like freeloading at bookshops—looking but not buying. I enjoy that subtle atmosphere of being condemned by bookshop owners and clerks with their gazes, being subtly urged to leave with feather dusters and mops, yet not daring to directly tell me to go. It feels constantly tense and time-pressed, making me exceptionally focused while reading, treasuring the book in my hands, with every character carved into my heart.”
“I like squatting on street corners eating noodles, wandering the streets in winter holding a bag of sugar-roasted chestnuts, eating grilled lamb skewers in smoky fires at night. These common street things taste much better than palace banquets…”
Mu Chun rambled on. Mao Qiang thought it was quite normal for a child raised in wealth and honor to have such peculiar habits—as long as he had no romantic involvement with that female official.
Having clarified the relationship between Mu Chun and Hu Shanwei, Mao Qiang returned to continue his work, selecting important information from intelligence reports to copy for His Majesty’s review.
Four days later, the night before the Palace Administration’s palace regulations examination.
Old palace servant Mei Xiang carried a food box along East Long Street of the Western Six Palaces, encountering a patrol of Jinyiwei halfway.
The leading minor flag officer was Ji Gang, who greeted Mei Xiang: “Aunt Mei, who are you delivering food to?”
Mei Xiang was a veteran palace servant with some standing in the palace.
Mei Xiang set down the food box: “My teacher has examinations tomorrow and is burning the midnight oil tonight. I’m bringing her some pastries as a midnight snack.”
Palace servants taking female officials as teachers was common practice in the palace. Ji Gang asked: “What kind of pastries?”
Mei Xiang said: “Chinese yam cakes and osmanthus cakes, plus sweet rice wine I brewed myself.”
Ji Gang pretended to be greedy: “What a coincidence—those are all my favorites. Aunt Mei, would you honor me by letting me have a few bites?”
Without waiting for Mei Xiang’s response, Ji Gang opened the food box. Inside were indeed two plates of pastries—white Chinese yam cakes and yellow osmanthus cakes, plus a wine pot.
Ji Gang ate two pieces of each, repeatedly saying how delicious they were. Mei Xiang didn’t dare stop him, but when Ji Gang reached for the wine pot, she quickly said: “Officer Ji, there are no cups here—it’s inconvenient. If you like it, I’ll send you a jar tomorrow.”
Mei Xiang worried that if Ji Gang drank directly from the spout, dirtying the wine pot, how could she give it to her teacher in good conscience?
Fortunately, Ji Gang only opened the lid to smell it: “Mm, sweet. But I prefer strong liquor—the kind that burns your throat.”
Ji Gang put the wine pot back in the food box: “Thank you, Aunt Mei.”
Mei Xiang sighed with relief and carried the food box toward the Six Bureaus and One Department.
She had no idea that just now, under the pretext of being greedy, Ji Gang had already sprinkled medicinal powder on the pastries and in the wine pot.
Arriving at the corridor housing area, night had fallen. Every room was brightly lit with sounds of studying drifting out. Mei Xiang carried the food box to deliver the midnight snack: “Teacher, you needn’t trouble yourself teaching me the ‘Book of Songs’ tonight—just focus on preparing for your examination.”
Hu Shanwei had just finished dinner and didn’t want pastries. She was about to pour a cup of sweet rice wine to moisten her throat when Mei Xiang suddenly said: “Wait a moment.”
Hu Shanwei stopped, looking at Mei Xiang with confusion.
Mei Xiang smiled and picked up the wine pot: “This sweet rice wine should be warmed to taste good—drinking it will warm your body and lift your spirits. Teacher, please wait a moment while I go warm the wine.”