The Marquis of Zhenbei had been impeached.

The one to impeach him was Wei Guangfeng of the Censorate, a notoriously unyielding official known throughout the capital as Wei the Madman — a man so forthright in his speech that he dared to remonstrate even the Emperor without flinching. He impeached the Marquis of Zhenbei for failing to govern his household with proper discipline, failing to educate his son, condoning servants who preyed upon the common people, engaging in factional scheming, and — most gravely of all — embezzling the bereavement stipends meant for soldiers and using the funds for loan-sharking.

Embezzlement of bereavement stipends — that was absolutely intolerable. Most officials expressed doubt that the Marquis of Zhenbei could be foolish enough to stoop to such paltry sums, but Wei Guangfeng produced his evidence.

The Marquis of Zhenbei would not steal — but that was no defense against the fact that he was stationed far away at the border and could not manage his household from such a distance. His wife had diverted those funds, and before she could put them back, the matter had been exposed.

The Emperor was furious and ordered the Marquis of Zhenbei confined to his residence for self-reflection, forbidden from leaving without imperial summons.

Lang Jiuchuan received this news from Zuo Yan himself, who came to deliver the report in person.

She took in the sight of him — dressed entirely in plain white, even his sash a pale moonlit color. He was observing mourning for the Bai family?

Zuo Yan caught the meaning in her gaze and explained, “The two elders passed at the same time. It has not yet been a month. I married into the Bai family — I can only observe mourning for a short while.”

If he observed no mourning at all, it would inevitably invite gossip.

Lang Jiuchuan had no particular feelings about it and simply asked, “The quarrel between Xie Zejing and that so-called Little Qilin, and the loan-sharking affair at the Marquis of Zhenbei’s residence — were those your doing?”

Zuo Yan nodded. “A household of that size will always have secrets not meant for outside eyes. The heir’s misconduct does not truly wound the Marquis of Zhenbei at his core — but destroying this marriage means the Marquis loses a powerful ally in his family connections. An Assistant Minister of the Ministry of War with real authority, had the marriage gone through, would have been a tremendous asset to him.”

“Since the matter of the heir and the courtesan Wan Bai had already come to light, it seemed only right to make use of it — and to spare Miss He from a bad situation in the process.”

“And you weren’t afraid the family would proceed with the marriage regardless?”

Zuo Yan said evenly, “Then that would be her fate. But a third-rank official of the Ministry of War with real power in his hands has no need to covet the position of a marquis’s young mistress. If they pressed forward for the sake of reputation, that too would be their destiny. Your Daoist school always says: do not intervene in the workings of cause and consequence, yes?”

Lang Jiuchuan raised her tea and took a sip. Intervening — she did that based on her mood, did she not? She had involved herself in matters of cause and consequence herself just now.

Zuo Yan spoke in a low, measured tone. “In truth, even with the loan-sharking, if they simply returned the principal, forgave the interest, and stopped immediately, the Marquis of Zhenbei’s household has the means to smooth this over and bury it. What I had not anticipated was that they would be so bold as to embezzle the bereavement stipends meant for wounded and fallen soldiers’ families.”

“Are these stipends not disbursed in a single sum, but paid out year after year?”

Zuo Yan replied, “Under the dynasty’s laws, for soldiers who die in battle, the stipend is paid continuously for ten years based on their rank, then stops. For the wounded and disabled, three years. The reason the Marquis of Zhenbei’s reputation has remained intact and his prestige within the army is so high is precisely because he supplements his subordinates’ stipends from his own salary for those who died or were wounded under his command. But toward the end of last year, his wife’s family brother gambled on a jade stone and lost a hundred thousand taels — not enough to cover the debt — and came to the Marquis’s wife for help. So she diverted the funds.”

He sighed again. “Perhaps it truly is that the Marquis of Zhenbei’s household has reached the end of its fortunes. The sum they diverted was not even ten thousand taels — a few antique trinkets or pieces of jewelry sold would have covered it. And yet before they could replace it, we found it.”

After this matter, he understood even more deeply what cause and consequence truly meant.

But — why had it suddenly grown so cold?

Zuo Yan rubbed his arms and turned his head — and there was the stoic Manager Fu of Wanshi Pawnshop, his whole body radiating killing intent. Zuo Yan fell silent. Had he said something wrong?

Fu Qi had been a military man himself. Hearing this, how could he not be furious? The Xie family — they truly deserved to die.

Zuo Yan looked again at Lang Jiuchuan. “Although the Marquis of Zhenbei’s household now faces multiple charges and the Emperor has ordered a thorough investigation, and although he has been confined to his residence — in truth, all of these matters stem from what his wife and others did, and the connection to the Marquis himself is thin. As long as he submits a letter explaining himself, and officials friendly to him speak on his behalf, no grave crime can be pinned on him. At most he faces ‘failure to govern the household with proper discipline,’ which still falls short of a death sentence. I believe he has already realized someone is targeting him and is working out how to respond. You once said the matter of the Gu worms had to wait for the right moment to be brought to light — surely that moment has arrived now, has it not?”

He could not wait any longer.

Lang Jiuchuan made a sound of agreement and said evenly, “I had originally intended to draw this out a little longer — to tame the hawk gradually — but I have pressing matters to attend to next and cannot spare the time. Let us forget about it.”

Let him die quickly and be reborn sooner.

Zuo Yan’s eyes sharpened. “Then let the real show begin?”

Lang Jiuchuan nodded. “Have someone compose something closer to the truth — something people only need to hear to know exactly who is being described. Once it has spread sufficiently, have Shen Qinghe submit his memorial. The witnesses are all locked up in the Surveillance Bureau’s prison anyway.”

She paused, then turned to look at him. “You nobles are quite skilled at this — framing people, fabricating crimes. You can even think to make use of a disabled person.”

Zuo Yan smiled faintly. “Since the Emperor already knows about the love Gu, he has no doubt already had someone investigate the Noble Consort Xie. The fact that he has not acted yet means he is waiting for a legitimate pretext to strip the military power. The spirit witch may be disabled, but as long as she breathes, she is a living witness. Whether she is truly disabled, and who disabled her, is of no consequence. The Emperor needs only to know that such a person exists. Once this matter is brought to light, we say he was silencing a witness — and so he was. Even if he wasn’t, the fact that he kept such a person and cannot explain it is damning enough. So this is not exactly a fabrication — we are simply presenting the facts as they are.”

What is imperial power? What is the Emperor? An emperor who wishes to move against someone has no need of airtight proof. He can kill if he wishes to kill. He needs only a small pretext.

“In truth, this whole affair would not have succeeded without your connections,” Zuo Yan said, looking at Lang Jiuchuan, admiration evident in his eyes. “Without them, how would Daoist Gong and the others have agreed to cooperate with me and bring that spirit witch back?”

“Do good without asking what lies ahead. When there is something to be done, someone will step forward to carry the blade,” Lang Jiuchuan said, smiling as she handed him a talisman. “Once this matter reaches the court and the Marquis of Zhenbei cries injustice, seize the moment to press this talisman onto him.”

Zuo Yan took it. “What is this?”

“Nothing much. Only to let him tell everyone, in his own words, the true circumstances of my father’s death.”

Zuo Yan felt a chill run through him.

Her tone was utterly calm — and yet it carried the air of ten thousand soldiers arrayed before a battle line, blades drawn and ready.

After Zuo Yan departed, Jiang Che said, “Weren’t you going to watch the trapped beast struggle? Why are you killing the beast already — letting that Xie fellow off so easily?”

“Rong Shao Zhu intends to open the Ghost Gate at Qingyang Temple during Qingming, to send wandering spirits through into the underworld. Can you guess whether someone will come before then to clear the path for her — to remove certain thorns in her side? Someone like me?” Lang Jiuchuan’s tone shifted. “So once this matter is settled, I need to go into secluded cultivation for a period.” She paused. “But as for letting the Marquis of Zhenbei off easily — that is out of the question. I once told the Xie heir that when he returned to the capital, I would personally pay a visit. A person of integrity keeps their word, do they not?”

And when paying a visit, one brings a gift. He had lived comfortably and without conscience all these years — it was time he experienced what it felt like to lie awake in the small hours of the night, haunted by wronged souls.