The sky had cleared, with the sun shining warmly. Having just passed the New Year, the hustle and bustle had faded, leaving behind a hollow, lazy desolation. Ding Yi sat on the steps hugging her knees, the sunlight beating down on her head until her scalp grew hot. Her mind was blank, fixated on one matter that had weighed on her heart for so long that it had gradually become blurred. Rather than dwelling on it, she had the servants prepare bedding and some food. It had been two or three days since she had seen Ru Jian. According to customs, prison visits were allowed now. Later, she could slip some silver to the jailers, and at least manage to speak a few words with him.
Just as she was considering whether to bring Hai Lan along, the doorman’s voice came from outside, “Seventh Master, Happy New Year. Please come in.”
Ding Yi looked up to see the Seventh Master striding over the threshold. She rose to greet him, “Where is Seventh Master coming from?”
The Seventh Master replied, “I’ve come from the Ministry of Justice. Hong Ce was presiding over the case earlier, and I stayed to observe.” He shook his head, “It’s a joint trial with the Three Departments and Nine Ministers, and the situation doesn’t look good. Not only is Ji Lan Tai refusing to implicate Hong Zan, but he won’t even admit his crimes. Hong Zan and Hong Ce got into an argument in court. In the end, he brought up your relationship, saying there were concerns about the presiding judge being partial and that he should recuse himself due to a conflict of interest. I’m afraid your father’s case will have to be reassigned.”
As she listened, her heart sank. Her eyelids had been twitching these past few days—she knew things wouldn’t go smoothly. She had thought that if they were truly desperate, she could firmly deny any connection with Hong Ce. At this point, Ru Jian’s life was entirely in the hands of the presiding judge. If someone else took over midway, the risk was too great to imagine.
“If it’s reassigned, to whom?”
The Seventh Master sucked his lips thoughtfully, “Either Prince Yu or Prince Rui. But Hong Ce has his arguments—he denies that you are Wen Lu’s daughter, claiming you’re only distant relatives, that the two families didn’t interact much, and that he doesn’t know Ru Jian’s background. He says that on New Year’s Eve, you were simply following old customs by keeping vigil together. This way, you can avoid charges of harboring a fugitive.” The Seventh Master rubbed the back of his neck and sighed deeply, “This puts poor Twelfth Brother in a difficult position. Such reasoning sounds very forced—if it were you, would you believe it? Now it depends on how the palace decides. They’ve gone to seek the Emperor’s judgment. If the Emperor favors him, the Twelfth Master’s position as presiding judge won’t be shaken. However, times have changed—they can’t be too obvious about it, with so many eyes watching.”
Ding Yi thought of Mu Lian Sheng, “After returning from Lang Run Garden that day, what happened to my wet nurse’s husband?”
The Seventh Master responded with an “Oh,” then said, “He was killed. Initially, we thought of keeping him to deal with Hong Zan—using his spear to pierce his shield, so to speak. But then we thought it better not to bring the matter before the Emperor, to avoid further complications. The Huai Tree Residence is surrounded by graves; after killing him, we buried him there. End of story.”
Though she hated the man, Ding Yi couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable about his fate. But in this world, if you don’t look out for yourself, heaven and earth will destroy you. This was a world of kill or be killed.
A maid came to report that everything the master had ordered was ready, asking whether to set it aside or load it onto the carriage. She turned to look at the Seventh Master, “I need to go to the Ministry of Justice prison now. Seventh Master, please make yourself at home!”
The Seventh Master hesitated, “At such a critical time, let’s not create any more trouble. How about this—I’ll accompany you. Change your clothes and disguise yourself as my attendant. Don’t talk too much; say a few words and leave.”
This was certainly the best approach. Ding Yi agreed and quickly found her old clothes to change into. It wasn’t for nothing that she had carried them from Ningguta to Shanxi, and then back to Beijing—they had come in handy again at this crucial moment.
Once everything was ready, they headed to the Ministry of Justice. The prison there was stricter than the Shun Tian Prefecture jail, housing major offenders against the state. Not everyone could enter. Fortunately, the Seventh Master’s face alone served as a pass to clear all checkpoints.
After receiving their bribes, the guards bowed and led them into the dungeon. This place had no daylight, surrounded by walls seemingly made of copper and iron. Deep in the dungeon, torches were lit. High up on the two-man-tall walls was a small window through which sunlight streamed in, forming a square column of light so bright it hurt the eyes.
The air was foul—eating, drinking, and bodily functions all took place in the same area. Combined with the dampness, the smell was nauseating. The Seventh Master covered his nose, exclaiming that he couldn’t stand it. Ding Yi wasn’t bothered; when counting heads at the execution ground in Shun Tian Prefecture, she had frequently navigated such places and was used to it.
Ru Jian’s cell was close to the window, which could be considered a prime location. In such a place, every inch of sunlight was precious and fully utilized. As Ding Yi approached, she saw that Ru Jian appeared unbothered, even having the presence of mind to dry straw in the sun.
She called softly, “Third Brother,” then choked up, “Stop drying that. I’ve brought bedding for you, much better than straw.”
Ru Jian showed neither joy nor sorrow. He turned to look and said, “Is this filthy place somewhere you should come? Leave the things and go back!”
How could she be at ease? She pressed, “Have they mistreated you? Have they beaten you?”
Ru Jian said no, “Prince Zhuang accused me of desertion, but I’m not a fool. I was trafficked—would I let them blame me? Rest assured, nothing bad will happen for now. However, Ji Lan Tai refuses to speak, and my accusation against Prince Zhuang is useless without evidence. From today’s questioning, the outlook for the father’s case doesn’t look promising…” He suddenly smiled, “I should have died with Ru Liang and the others. Living until today has been borrowed time. Take good care of yourself. No matter what happens to me, don’t get involved. You’re a young woman—you shouldn’t bear so much. If we can’t overturn the case, it’s fate. As children, we’ve done our best… But Little Jujube, while I’m in here, you’re my greatest concern.”
As the siblings talked, the Seventh Master felt dizzy from the stench and hadn’t heard most of their conversation, only catching the last sentence. He immediately declared, “If Hong Ce doesn’t treat her well, she still has me. I’ll look after her; she won’t suffer. You stay calm in here. No matter what happens outside, just firmly insist that you were trafficked. At worst, you’ll be sent back to the Changbai Mountains, and I’ll find a way to get you out. Though I can’t help with the case, I’m an expert at covert maneuvers. Just rest easy—eat and sleep as you should. The sky won’t fall.”
His intentions were unusual, but his words were sincere. Ru Jian cupped his hands toward him, “Seventh Master, we’ve played together since childhood—our bond needs no elaboration. Your words put me at ease. Right now, I can barely take care of myself, let alone my sister. Though the Twelfth Master cherishes her, having an extra brother provides extra care… I’m relying on you, Seventh Master. Ru Jian will always remember your great kindness.”
The Seventh Master felt a pang in his heart—it seemed that in this life, he was destined only to be referred to as a brother by the one he loved. But it didn’t matter, as long as she lived well. He and Ru Jian had been childhood friends; at the very least, he wouldn’t fail this trust.
Ding Yi couldn’t help feeling uneasy, though she couldn’t pinpoint what felt wrong and didn’t want to ask. At that moment, a jailer came to hurry them, smiling at the Seventh Master, “My good master, it’s about time. We servants have responsibilities—by the rules, visits aren’t allowed. We’ve made an exception today, so please understand and give us something to report to our superiors.”
The Seventh Master snapped impatiently, “Don’t talk rubbish! Is it against the law for me to bring bedding to an old friend? Go tell Chen Liu Tong that I’ve been here today. If he has a problem with it, he can come arrest me at Xian Wang’s residence—I’ll be waiting!”
The jailer stood dumbfounded, stammering without knowing how to respond. Fearing the situation would escalate, Ding Yi tugged at the Seventh Master’s sleeve, “Please calm down. We’ve seen him and delivered the items, so let’s go back!” Then she whispered to Ru Jian, “Things haven’t reached their worst yet, so remain calm. I’ll go back today and come see you again in a few days.”
Ru Jian nodded, and the Seventh Master finally grunted, “Since that’s the case, let’s go back!” After walking a few steps, they suddenly heard someone shouting at the top of their lungs, the sound so mournful it made them jump. The Seventh Master asked, “Who’s that? Is he going to eat someone or what?”
The jailer bowed and smiled, “That’s Marquis Ji Lan Tai. He’s probably complaining about the food again, making a scene!” As he spoke, he gestured, leading them out.
Meanwhile, Hong Ce had gone to the palace for an audience with the Emperor, who needed to weigh the pros and cons. Since there were doubts, each side received equal punishment. Because both Hong Ce and Hong Zan were implicated in the Wen Lu case, to avoid bias, it was handed over to Prince Rui and the Court of Judicial Review. The case of Marquis Ji Lan Tai accepting bribes and assassinating the Salt Control Commissioner of the Two Zhe regions had been handled by Hong Ce all along. Abruptly changing hands would inevitably confuse, so Prince Chun was instructed to expedite the trial, with the verdict to be submitted to the Censorate. There was no need to inquire further into other matters.
This imperial decision seemed to strip him of his authority, but with Ji Lan Tai’s case in hand, he was still connected to the Wen Lu case. However, they had reached an impasse. With the ledger left by the dying Salt Control Commissioner, Ji Lan Tai couldn’t escape punishment, but since he refused to implicate his accomplices, the flames couldn’t spread to Hong Zan.
Hong Ce slammed down the court mallet, “With both witnesses and evidence at hand, do you think your clever tongue can evade my judgment? Have you considered the magnitude of your crime? While you still have a chance, I advise you to atone for your crimes through meritorious service. This prince knows that originally, the grain and salt transport routes were managed by someone else—you were merely a figurehead, not deserving of death. But if you persist in your obstinacy, bearing all the responsibility yourself, I fear it won’t be as simple as confinement or exile.”
Ji Lan Tai repeated his previous statement, “The salt and grain routes are complex—collection, transportation, trade, dispatch, taxation—which aspect doesn’t require cooperation? Your Highness has been in Khalkha dealing with military matters, while the salt route involves civil dealings with officials and salt merchants. It’s hard to appreciate the cost of rice and firewood unless you’re the one managing the household. With all due respect, Your Highness, how many times have you been to Jiangnan? Do you know how the waterways in the Two Zhe regions are arranged, or how many acres of salt fields there are?”
Despite his open provocation, Hong Ce didn’t lose his temper, only saying, “Civil and military affairs are interconnected. If this prince could handle the political upheaval in Khalkha, I can certainly deal with a minor Marquis like you. It doesn’t matter if you refuse to confess—I’ve submitted both sets of accounts to the palace, and the Emperor will make a clear judgment. I advise you to think of your family and remember Wen Lu from thirteen years ago. Isn’t that previous lesson enough to warn you?”
The mention of family always touches people’s hearts. Ji Lan Tai’s eyes trembled, and despite the cold, his forehead was covered in sweat. But it was only momentary. He took a deep breath and said harshly, “Is Your Highness trying to coerce a confession? Even if I submit to the law, my family remains part of the imperial clan. My great-grandfather left instructions, and the court cannot mistreat them.”
Hong Ce snorted, “When Wen Lu was sentenced to beheading with reprieve, his lands, properties, and female relatives were not implicated. So why was his entire family exterminated? When the court doesn’t act, others will. By concealing the truth, you’ll eventually implicate your entire family. Stop circling with me—I want a definitive answer today. It’s the New Year season; don’t make these officials suffer the cold with you. If you provoke my anger, you know the consequences.”
His threat essentially involved having Ji Lan Tai’s family in his grasp. Ji Lan Tai was caught between a rock and a hard place, clenching his fists with veins bulging on his neck. After struggling for a while, seemingly unable to resist any longer, he lowered his head and said, “Fine, I admit to corruption and perversion of justice. I admit my guilt. Your Highness can decide as you see fit. There’s no need to question me again and again. I’ll sign the confession once it’s drafted. Beyond that, I have nothing more to say.”
Was he planning to bear the burden alone? Hong Ce glanced at the other judges, pressing his advantage, “You’ve confessed readily enough. Now, what about the Wen Lu case? You were both in the Transport Department then. He was friends with the murdered Salt Control Commissioner. To escape punishment, did you frame him?”
In the current situation, there was no need to obsess over who the real culprit was behind the scenes. As long as Wen Lu was cleared of suspicion, the case against Ru Jian would disappear. Since he had already confessed to some crimes, why not confess to all? Unfortunately, despite Hong Ce’s hopes, Ji Lan Tai refused. He sneered, “Such a major case, with millions of taels of silver passing through, could I manage it all by myself? Wen Lu was never clean. The case was decided many years ago, and the judgment was correct. Why is Your Highness trying so hard to exonerate him?”
“This prince handles matters justly. If you continue to speak nonsense, don’t blame me for subjecting you to severe torture.” He was truly struggling to contain himself. After going back and forth for so long, even the best patience would wear thin. His sudden confession was unexpected. The officials present perked up, but he had no intention of consulting them. With a cold look in his eyes, he said, “If you were accomplices, why didn’t he implicate you then? Why did his family suffer—some beheaded, others exiled? Was it colleague loyalty or simply that he had no defense? You know in your heart. Due to the many doubts, we won’t decide the case today; it will be discussed later. Go back and think it over. If you can endure, this prince will see it through to the end. Take the prisoner away. Court adjourned.”
The bailiffs came forward with their restraining poles to escort him away. Ji Lan Tai was dragged out, but continued shouting as he went, “I’ve confessed my crimes, why not pass judgment?” He kept making a commotion back to the prison.
The prison was quiet, but he continued his clamor. When passing Ru Jian’s cell, he paused, flashed a crooked smile, and said, “Wen San, if you think I’m going to help you overturn your father’s case, dream on! I’m of the imperial clan, with Yu Wen family blood in my veins. Even if I’m convicted, I’ll still live well. Why didn’t you stay in Suifen River as a human trafficker? Why come back to appeal for justice, only to lose your own life? Was it worth it? Your old man is crying in the underworld, you foolish boy!”
He laughed wildly and arrogantly, flaunting his imperial clan status as he entered his cell.
Ru Jian couldn’t accept it, grinding his teeth audibly. How frustrating to be one step behind at every turn! He had originally planned to appeal after Ji Lan Tai confessed, but instead, he had fallen into a trap. Prince Zhuang must have informed Ji Lan Tai beforehand, which explained his fearlessness. Once he confessed to his crimes, the case would abruptly end there. Hong Zan wouldn’t even be slightly affected, continuing to serve steadily as a prince. Why should it be this way? Had his parents’ blood and his two brothers’ blood been shed in vain?
Actually, on the day he returned to Beijing, he had thought it through clearly. All those years of enduring humiliation to stay alive were sustained by one belief. Hong Zan had navigated the official world for thirty years—it was extremely difficult to find evidence against him. If not for Ding Yi, Hong Ce wouldn’t have gotten involved in this trouble. Now that trouble had arrived, he was momentarily stuck, with no progress in the case. Once things calmed down, the court might give up. Or, fearing that too much commotion would be hard to resolve, they might just catch Ji Lan Tai, paper over the matter, and let it fade away. Setting aside the vengeance for his parents and brothers, there was still Ding Yi. Following the Twelfth Master, she could never have peace in her life unless Hong Zan was brought down. He ached for his sister. He was a man who could endure any hardship. But she had lived humbly until nineteen, had just begun to enjoy a few good days, and now faced endless storms.
So they couldn’t wait any longer. The case was cooling day by day. His life wasn’t worth much, but if it could bring down Prince Zhuang, it would be a profitable exchange.
Leaning against the cold wall, he smiled wryly. Waiting for Hong Zan to make a move, yet he hadn’t come. Truly clever—he knew that if anything happened to him in prison, suspicion would point directly at Hong Zan. Ji Lan Tai appeared tough but was merely a paper tiger. Break through his facade, penetrate his psychological defenses, and he might fear becoming a second Wen Lu.
He lifted his robe to reveal a pair of fingernail-sized butterflies embroidered on the hem of his undergarment, with delicate antennae and brilliant patterns. He lowered his head, stroking them gently. He could only apologize to Hai Lan—if they had never met, he wouldn’t have made her sad again and again.