It was snowing.

The wind was particularly strong by the river as Zhenniang, wrapped tightly in a thick cloak, descended from the bluestone dock. She had just seen her parents off on their boat. The Li Family Ink Workshop’s people were leaving Nanjing for Huizhou, marking the gradual end of Li Ink’s glorious era.

Nevertheless, Li Ink left its mark during the Ming Dynasty’s golden age of ink-making. As descendants of the Li family, that was enough.

A cold wetness touched her forehead. Zhenniang reached up to touch it – a snowflake, already melting. She thought to herself, no wonder it had felt particularly cold when she woke up this morning; it was going to snow.

Xinghua quickly opened an oiled paper umbrella to shield them from the falling snow. Just as they were about to board their carriage, they saw someone waving to them from the teahouse across the street.

“Madam, it’s the Imperial Uncle,” Xinghua whispered to Zhenniang. The Imperial Uncle she referred to was Li Fugui of Fuxian Pavilion, though he was no longer just the manager but had been granted a royal title. However, he had always maintained a low profile, living quietly much as he had when running the Fuxian Pavilion, with his only pleasure being drinking tea and listening to music.

Seeing it was the Imperial Uncle, Zhenniang asked the carriage driver to wait and went with Xinghua to the teahouse across the street to pay their respects to Li Fugui.

“Let’s not stand on ceremony. I called you over to tell you something – news from the capital is that Feng Bao has fallen. Did you know?” Li Fugui had Zhenniang sit opposite him and asked in a lowered voice.

Feng Bao’s fall wasn’t something that could be kept from Luo Wenqian, so two days after Feng Bao was impeached, Luo Wenqian knew about it. Zhenniang was naturally aware, and it was a historical fact she had known would happen. She nodded.

“Yes, I figured you would know. However, I received news last night that when they searched Feng Bao’s residence, they found a thick stack of bearer notes from Yi Husheng. The total amounts to over a million taels. According to Feng Bao’s household staff, this money might be bribes from Lord Zhang to Feng Bao through Yi Husheng,” Li Fugui said, lowering his voice even further.

On such a cold day, he normally wouldn’t have gone out, but this news was potentially fatal for Yi Husheng, suggesting that the court might move against it. Since it wouldn’t have been appropriate for him to visit the Luo residence at this time, and knowing that the Li family was leaving Nanjing today, he knew Zhenniang would come to see them off. So he waited at the teahouse specifically to tell her this news, repaying the life-saving favor from that time on the boat.

When Zhenniang heard this, the color drained from her face. She had thought Feng Bao’s fall was just a harbinger, with more than a year before Zhang Juzheng’s troubles would begin, giving Yi Husheng time to prepare.

But who would have thought that Feng Bao’s fall would immediately lead to this? Yi Husheng was in grave danger!

“Lord Li, Zhenniang must take her leave,” Zhenniang immediately stood and bowed farewell.

“Go then. Don’t worry too much – even if something happens to Yi Husheng, Luo Nine should be safe for now. After all, it’s not yet time for the emperor to move decisively against the Zhang family,” Li Fugui waved his hand. He had delivered his message; what happened next would depend on each person’s fate.

Zhenniang nodded, then quickly returned to the carriage with Xinghua.

“Quickly, to Yi Husheng,” Zhenniang ordered the driver as soon as she and Xinghua were aboard.

Urged by Zhenniang’s anxious tone, the driver kept cracking his whip, driving the horse rapidly toward Yi Husheng.

But as soon as the carriage entered Official Street, they saw crowds of people lining both sides, with some rushing forward to get a better look. The street was so packed that the carriage couldn’t get through.

Zhenniang had the driver stop, had Xinghua pay the fare, and followed the crowd on foot, asking as she went: “Does anyone know what’s happening?”

“Ah, Lady Luo! It’s terrible – government officials have come to seal Yi Husheng,” replied someone who recognized her.

It’s too late, Zhenniang thought with dismay; they were one step behind.

She pushed through the crowd ahead, and soon reached Yi Husheng’s entrance. Sure enough, yamen runners and constables were sealing the doors, while a squad of Embroidered Uniform Guard wearing fish-scale armor and carrying spring-steel sabers were escorting the money house’s managers – Mo the Elder in front, followed by Gu Paozi and Yan Xilai.

“What about Luo Wenqian? Isn’t he Yi Husheng’s main proprietor?” asked one of the Guards with a stern face.

“Pah! What kind of proprietor is he? Back then he fled to the north like a stray dog, and I saved him. I gave him his wealth these years, only using him as a front because he was from Huizhou and knew the area better. Yet he was ungrateful, so I sent him back to his hometown long ago. Sir, real men take responsibility for their actions. If Yi Husheng has done something wrong, we three brothers will answer for it. But you can’t just pin false charges on anyone you please,” Mo the Elder shouted, his eyes fixed on Zhenniang in the crowd.

Zhenniang met his gaze and nodded firmly, understanding Mo’s meaning. Since Luo Wenqian had already withdrawn from Yi Husheng before this, Mo and the others would take responsibility for everything, clearing Luo Wenqian’s involvement. What happened next would depend on Luo Nine’s planning – whether they lived or died, whether Yi Husheng could survive, it all rested on him now.

Zhenniang knew that since Yi Husheng was Luo Wenqian’s creation, completely clearing him was impossible. The Embroidered Uniform Guard weren’t fools; on the contrary, they were extremely clever.

But as Li Fugui had said earlier to comfort her, the emperor wasn’t yet ready to move decisively against Lord Zhang. Therefore, they wouldn’t move against Luo Wenqian for now. At most, those in court wanted to use Yi Husheng to implicate Zhang Juzheng while finding an excuse to divide up Yi Husheng’s assets.

Now that Luo Wenqian had withdrawn from Yi Husheng, he was no longer relevant to the bigger picture. Brother Luo would be safe for now. Zhenniang understood this.

As Zhenniang had guessed, when the Guard heard Mo’s words, they just snorted coldly without saying more. Luo Wenqian’s status was sensitive, and before confirming whether the emperor truly intended to move against Lord Zhang, they didn’t want to risk acting against Luo Wenqian in case the situation spiraled out of control.

By now, the Guards had led their prisoners away. Yi Husheng’s date-red main doors were sealed with official papers, its brass rings swaying and making light tapping sounds that filled people’s hearts with melancholy.

Only a group of Yi Husheng’s minor managers and clerks remained, uncertain of what to do.

The snow was falling heavily now, large flakes drifting down.

“The snow is getting heavy. Everyone should go home for now, and don’t spread rumors or gossip about what’s happened. The New Year is coming anyway, so stay home and rest easy. Don’t worry, you’ll all receive your wages – someone will deliver them to your homes before the New Year,” Zhenniang stepped forward to say. She couldn’t promise them anything more for now; though she knew many people’s fates, she didn’t know her own or those of the people close to her.

“Ah, why is the Young Mistress still worrying about such things? You should hurry to discuss matters with the Master. We’ll be fine,” several managers and clerks said respectfully before gradually dispersing.

After watching them leave, Zhenniang returned home with her servants. Luo Wenqian wasn’t there, nor were Luo Ping’an and the others. Zhenniang understood that Luo Wenqian must have taken them to gather information.

Evening came, and Luo Wenqian still hadn’t returned. Zhenniang couldn’t taste her food, and even Lin’er and Yu’er seemed to sense that trouble was coming to the family, behaving especially well.

Only Choupa remained calm, having experienced everything life could offer, and she maintained her composure.

At night, during the dog watch, Zhenniang sat in her room with only a small oil lamp casting a bean-sized light. Outside came the constant whisper of falling snow. Luo Wenqian still hadn’t returned. Finally unable to bear it anymore, Zhenniang put on a thick cloak and went to wait at the entrance. The snowflakes stung her face with their cold.

Zhenniang couldn’t help but shiver.

“Madam, the wind is strong outside. You should go back inside – I’ll wait here at the door,” Xinghua urged.

“No, sitting inside makes my heart restless. Standing here actually makes me feel more settled. I’m wearing plenty of clothes, and moving around keeps me from feeling cold,” Zhenniang replied, pulling her cloak tighter around herself.

Just then, a distant horse’s neigh was heard, though the hoofbeats were muffled by the snow.

Then came Luo Ping’an’s voice calling the horse to stop.

“Madam, the Ninth Master, and Master Ping’an have returned,” Xinghua supported Zhenniang as they hurried forward, heedless of the falling snow. But when they reached the carriage, they saw only Luo Ping’an – the carriage was empty.

“Brother Ping’an, where is Wenqian?” Zhenniang asked anxiously.

“Ninth Brother went to see Eunuch Feng at the imperial tombs outside the city,” Luo Ping’an replied.

Hearing this, Zhenniang’s hands clenched tight: “Why would Brother Luo go see Eunuch Feng at a time like this?” If others found out, wouldn’t it make things even harder to explain? She couldn’t help but worry.

“It’s alright, Ninth Brother changed clothes at Master Zheng’s place and left the city quietly. He asked me to tell you not to worry,” Luo Ping’an said, then explained further: “We had to visit Eunuch Feng because of those bearer notes. Ninth Brother said that to clear our name, we must trace the origin of these notes. But now we don’t know who has them, so we need to start with Eunuch Feng.”

Zhenniang nodded in understanding. Though the notes were bearer instruments, Yi Husheng’s notes were numbered and recorded in the money house’s records, so their origin could be traced. With that evidence, the rumor about Lord Zhang bribing Feng Bao through Yi Husheng wouldn’t stand.

But lying in bed that night, Zhenniang couldn’t calm her heart. Brother Luo’s approach made sense logically, but she feared the court didn’t care about the truth – they just needed an excuse, a reason to divide up Yi Husheng, a reason to continue investigating Lord Zhang.

She didn’t sleep all night.

In the early morning, Zhenniang got up with stinging eyes from lack of sleep and washed her face with warm water.

Just then, Li Zhengsheng rushed in: “Zhenniang, Wenqian has struck the Drum of Justice!!!”