The rewards sent from the palace were indeed all neatly piled up in her room.

There were gold, silver, and silk fabrics, as well as jade and agate stones.

Every single item came from Grand Princess Leyang, Shen Zhiyi.

When Jiang Xuening returned from outside to her room, the two little maids Tang’er and Lian’er hadn’t seen their young mistress in quite some time. Seeing her return looking as though she’d lost a whole circle of weight, her complexion poor and her appearance practically gaunt and haggard, they couldn’t help but fuss over her with distressed chatter.

Questions from the left, nagging from the right.

Jiang Xuening didn’t answer a single one. After letting them attend to her washing up, without even asking about recent happenings in the capital, she sent them out and sat alone in the room by herself.

A single bright candle burned on the table.

Jiang Xuening stared at that flickering point of flame for a long while. When a candle tear could no longer contain itself and dripped down along the candle’s edge, she blinked.

All was silent and still.

She rose and walked to the vanity table. The diamond-shaped mirror reflected her face without powder or rouge under the candlelight.

With a soft “pa” sound.

She opened the cosmetic case that had been tightly fastened for so long, pulling open the bottommost compartment. Inside, wrapped in a powder-white silk handkerchief, lay a fine Hetian jade bracelet.

“Ningning, your aunt has a favor to ask of you. If you return to the manor, when you see the eldest young miss, please help me give this to her…”

Wanniang’s mournful and distressed face at her deathbed flashed before her eyes again.

She had gripped her hand with all her strength, her eyes—eyes that had rolled through the dust of this mortal world—opened wide, as if afraid she wouldn’t agree, yet also seemingly full of guilt and pain.

But who was it meant for?

Looking back now, Jiang Xuening still couldn’t be certain.

How she wished there had been even the tiniest bit meant for herself.

But until Wanniang had drawn her last breath, until the maidservants who’d come from the capital forcibly pried open her hand that still clutched at her own, she never received the answer she wanted.

“So there was nothing left for me…”

She took the bracelet out from the cosmetic case. With her back to the candlelight shining from the table, she looked at it for a long time. Tears finally rolled down from the corners of her eyes, yet a mocking smile spilled from the edge of her lips.

Her fingers slowly clenched the bracelet tighter.

For that one instant, she wanted to smash this thing.

To act as though it had never existed.

But the moment she raised her hand to do so, she felt her own wretchedness and despicability, and that increasingly laughable sorrow that the two reflected upon one another…

“Tch.”

And so she truly let out a laugh.

In the end, Jiang Xuening still tossed the bracelet onto the table and slowly lay back down on the bed. But she kept her eyes open and simply couldn’t fall asleep no matter what.

During the New Year in the capital, it was precisely the liveliest time.

The lantern festival ran for three consecutive days. Those visiting relatives visited relatives; those browsing the street markets browsed street markets.

Though the weather had suddenly turned cold, it was rare to find crowds everywhere you went.

In teahouses and wine shops, there were plenty of idle gentlemen who on ordinary days would stroll about with their birdcages or engage in cricket fights on the streets. Once they sat down, they inevitably engaged in wild boasting and rambling gossip.

Actually, when it came down to it, it was all trivial matters.

But this year brought something extraordinary.

Last night Lu Xian had gotten the short end of the stick at Xie Wei’s place and hadn’t slept well all night. He simply got up at the crack of dawn, planning to go to the Shuxiang Inn to see how the silver stocks of the Ren Family Salt Company were rising.

Only he’d come too early—news about the silver stocks hadn’t arrived yet.

So he ordered a bowl of tea and sat upstairs, just right for cracking sunflower seeds and listening to the people downstairs talk in their lively, bustling way.

“Have you heard?”

“I’ve heard.”

“I’ve heard too.”

“Haha, isn’t this just good fortune for good people—good people ultimately get good rewards!”

“Aiyo, what riddles are you gentlemen playing so early in the morning?”

“You don’t know yet?”

“Your words have me completely confused. Am I out of touch? Has something major happened in the capital recently? Is it that matter about suppressing the Heavenly Teach?”

“There’s some connection, but it’s not that.”

“What is it exactly?”

“Hahaha, Master Zhou only arrived in the capital seven or eight years ago, so it’s normal he doesn’t know. You gentlemen, be kind and don’t tease him. But this Young Master Dingfei—it’s truly unbelievable that he could still come back alive. Who knows how much suffering he endured out there all these years, how much evil he suffered through!”

“Poor White Pagoda Temple’s forest of memorial tablets with those three hundred righteous children’s graves…”

Master Zhou sitting below became more and more confused as he listened, and couldn’t help but press for the origin of the matter.

Only then did someone older explain it to him with a somewhat boastful air.

And so the story before and after Prince Pingnan’s rebellion back in the day was told.

Lu Xian listened—it was just the usual story.

Prince Pingnan had fought his way into the capital, fought his way into the palace, but failed to capture the Crown Prince at the time. So he came up with a cruel method: he had all the children in the capital of the appropriate age captured and brought for identification. After discovering none of them were the prince, he used these children’s lives to threaten the Empress and Crown Prince hiding in the capital to reveal themselves.

Three hundred people in total—how could parents bear to see their children treated this way?

The whole city was filled with heart-wrenching cries to heaven and earth.

“That was in the dead of winter, truly pitiful. Common folk were all kneeling on the long street, begging the rebel party to show mercy—capture them instead, but not the children. Aiyo, I heard it back then too, and it truly tore at my heart. I ask you, anyone with even a shred of humanity who heard this—how could they not be moved to compassion? But you can see that old bastard Prince Pingnan was just a beast!

“His Highness the Crown Prince was of noble imperial blood—how could he be held hostage?

“If he’d fallen into the rebel party’s hands, wouldn’t their treacherous plot have succeeded? Wouldn’t our Great Qian Dynasty have been finished? At such a critical moment, you still have to rely on loyal ministers and capable generals.”

Master Zhou gave a start: “Could it be the ‘Young Master Dingfei’ you mentioned?”

“That’s exactly right!

“At that time, the young master was only seven years old. His father is the current Duke of the Dingguo Duke Manor of the Xiao clan, and his mother was the cherished pearl in the palm of the old marquis of the former Yongyi Marquis Manor. He was truly born with a golden spoon in his mouth. From childhood he had a clever spirit—I heard that aside from being slow at learning the qin, everything else could be called photographic memory, like a child prodigy. When the late emperor was alive, the Duke had already petitioned for his title as heir early on. In the future, inheriting the Duke’s manor was as certain as nails on a board. Before anything happened to the Yongyi Marquis Manor, you’ve heard how formidable Young Marquis Yan was, right?

“But if you ask me, he still fell eight zhang short of the Young Master Dingfei from back then!”

The listeners couldn’t help but stir with commotion.

Lu Xian upstairs listened with amusement.

This person spoke so vividly, as though he’d witnessed it all personally back then. The story was basically accurate, though that person’s qin skills…

His brows furrowed slightly, and he couldn’t help cursing inwardly: Comparing people to people can really piss you off.

But downstairs, everyone had pricked up their ears.

Even the shopkeeper forgot about working his abacus and looked up.

The speaker drank a sip of tea to moisten his throat before continuing: “Back then, Young Master Dingfei was much beloved by the Empress in the palace. When the incident occurred, he was in the palace with Lady Yan, and naturally protected His Highness and Her Majesty by hiding together. Otherwise, how could we say the Xiao and Yan clans were utterly loyal and devoted themselves wholeheartedly? At that time, on one side were the lives of three hundred innocent children, and on the other was the Crown Prince in dire straits. Young Master Dingfei, though only seven years old at the time, actually stepped forward voluntarily and exchanged robes with the Crown Prince!”

Immediately, quite a few people in the crowd gasped with an “ah” of surprise, clearly having guessed something.

The man then said: “That’s right, this was actually a ploy of substitution! Young Master Dingfei had walked about the palace since childhood—the eunuchs all recognized him, and he was familiar with palace etiquette. Moreover, he was seven years old, similar in age to the eight-year-old Crown Prince, not far apart in height, and extremely clever by nature. If he pretended to be the Crown Prince and actively appeared before Prince Pingnan’s rebel party, getting Prince Pingnan to keep his promise and release those children, it would be a great blessing.”

Master Zhou recalled something: “But those memorial tablets at White Pagoda Temple…”

Someone picked up the thread: “A vicious and extremely evil person like Prince Pingnan—once he thought he had the Crown Prince in hand, how could he leave anyone else alive? Naturally, he killed them all clean. When the relief troops entered the city and tried to use Young Master Dingfei as leverage but failed, they probably discovered they had a fake, and in a fit of rage naturally killed him too! What a pity—a seven-year-old child, an orchid and jade tree not yet grown, met with such a calamity and died young! The people of the Xiao and Yan clans dug and searched for so long in that pile of corpses frozen like ice at the palace gates before finally finding the dragon pendant he’d worn when impersonating the Crown Prince and that set of clothes. The rest were all severed limbs and broken bones—who could tell whose family they belonged to…”

“What a sin!”

“I heard that for those few months, you could hear children crying in the capital at midnight—it was terrifying. It wasn’t until the court collected all these poor children’s remains and took them to White Pagoda Temple, buried them beside the Chaoyin Pavilion, erected a forest of memorial tablets, carved their names, and had the temple’s high monks chant sutras day and night for forty-nine months that the resentful energy from these wrongful deaths was dispelled and these children’s souls were finally delivered…”

“But Young Master Dingfei is alive now?”

That person clearly also found this an extraordinary matter and couldn’t help smacking his lips: “That’s right! Early this morning, word spread throughout the capital—it’s almost unbelievable that such a thing as coming back from the dead could happen in this world! But thinking about it, it makes sense too—after all, Lady Yan said back then they didn’t find the person. There were clothes and a jade pendant, but when the snow melted and people touched them, the bodies had long since become mangled flesh and blood. How could you recognize a human shape? All families’ children look about the same. I heard it was terrible—seems like he fell into the hands of the Heavenly Teach. Thanks to the current Imperial Tutor, Lord Xie, who finally rescued him this time. You can see Heaven has eyes—for such loyal ministers and subjects, their fortune and fate are great after all!”

Common folk in the marketplace believe in these two words: “karmic reward.”

Hearing the man say this, everyone nodded to express their relief and felt somewhat happy for this Young Master Dingfei.

Only Lu Xian sitting upstairs gave a cold, indifferent laugh and suddenly interjected: “The gentleman downstairs seems to know quite a lot—it’s almost as if you saw it with your own eyes. Could it be you served in the palace back then?”

The man hadn’t expected anyone would pick at his story.

Looking up, it turned out to be Boss Lu from the Youhuang Hall. He couldn’t help but straighten his expression, quickly stood up and cupped his hands, smiling obsequiously: “Hey, I’m just passing on hearsay, telling everyone stories for amusement. But you really didn’t guess wrong—my information actually came from a eunuch who’d served in the palace and told me when he was released. However, his health wasn’t good. Not long after he came out of the palace with money, he fell ill and died. To be honest, I was able to make my fortune in part thanks to the wealth he left behind.”

This man wasn’t any major figure among the capital’s merchants—after all, under the Son of Heaven’s feet, there were plenty of capable people.

Only no one had expected there was this connection involved, and all were somewhat surprised.

But several people did know him and knew he wasn’t lying.

Though Lu Xian was a merchant, first he’d once served in the Hanlin Academy as a presented scholar who passed the palace examination, and second, he secretly did some shady work for Xie Wei. His mind had layers upon layers of twists and turns—he really wasn’t as simple as the person below.

Though that man spoke casually, Lu Xian heard the suspicious points.

A eunuch who’d served in the palace, knew about this matter, and was released—wouldn’t he die quickly?

He cracked another sunflower seed and raised his eyebrows with interest: “If what you say is true, then back then this Young Master Dingfei was with his mother Lady Yan. By rights, Lady Yan should have known about and agreed to the matter of the young master voluntarily sacrificing himself to save the lord. But how is it that I heard after the siege of the capital was lifted, Lady Yan had a falling out with Duke Xiao shortly after, went straight back to the marquis manor, and the Xiao and Yan families never had any more dealings with each other?”

The man below was instantly stunned.

The others couldn’t help but be shaken as well: They’d been listening to the lively story earlier, but now that this question was raised, didn’t this matter seem somewhat strange?

Someone tentatively asked: “Does Boss Lu know some hidden truth?”

Lu Xian rolled his eyes: “If I knew, why would I ask you!”

This manner couldn’t be more genuine. Everyone was thus relieved, and then thought: Matters of the imperial family—how could ordinary common folk like them know? The only thing they could pity was those very real three hundred innocent children buried in the snow.

Early in the morning, the cold sunlight rose from the east, slanting across the white jade balustrades that formed a line before the Huangji Hall.

The assembled officials had arrived, heads bowed in solemn silence.

Emperor Shen Lang wore a dark black five-clawed golden dragon robe, with a twelve-tassel crown on his head. He sat high on the dragon throne behind the imperial desk, his face somewhat dark and unclear in the Golden Throne Hall.

Xie Wei stood in the line of civil officials on the lower left, rarely in such a proper and imposing court robe. Compared to the Daoist robes he ordinarily wore, it had somewhat less of that reclusive, transcendent quality, but still didn’t diminish his mountain-like, profound presence—instead, it revealed a bit more sharpness.

Yet it still didn’t exceed propriety—just right.

A hint of a smile floated on his face. He merely raised his eyes to gaze at Shen Lang, his voice light and faint as he reminded: “Your Majesty, Young Master Dingfei has been awaiting your summons outside the hall for quite some time.”