Ru Jian’s death was not ultimately in vain. The case had grown cold, and there were people in court submitting memorials urging the resolution of Ji Lan Tai’s case. If not for this new development, Hong Ce would have been powerless to delay further. Now he had been given an opportunity, and so had the Emperor. A person who had accused Prince Zhuang had died tragically in prison. Since a member of the imperial family was implicated in a murder case, the court had reason to punish severely.

The Emperor was furious, temporarily suspending all of Hong Zan’s duties at the Grand Secretariat and the Upper Study, confining him to his residence, and ordering the Ministry of Justice to investigate together with the Censorate and the Court of Judicial Review. Not a single item in Prince Zhuang’s household accounts over the years, nor any personal connections could be overlooked. Everything was to be recorded in ledgers and submitted to the Palace of Heavenly Purity for imperial review.

A direct branch of the imperial clan—who could withstand such scrutiny? The great princely manor was being turned inside out, practically equivalent to confiscation. Regardless of whether the Wen Lu father and son case was connected to Hong Zan, he could no longer escape unscathed. One must believe that those eager to kick a man when he’s down are everywhere. Seeing his impending downfall, anonymous impeachment memorials poured in from all directions. The Emperor, sitting in the Hall of Mental Cultivation, could foresee developments—if any of these allegations proved true, they would be sufficient for permanent dismissal.

Upon hearing the news, the Empress was deeply saddened. Dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief, she said, “The rest doesn’t matter much, but poor Ding Yi. We all know she’s Wen Lu’s daughter; you don’t say anything, so no one below dares to speak of it. Now her only brother has been killed by Hong Zan—how can she bear it!”

The Emperor rotated the jade thumb ring on his finger and said mildly, “Great disparities don’t make for a good match. The two were never suited for each other—why force them together? If the old master found out, he would surely be furious. I feel sorry for the Twelfth Prince and understand him as well. He says Wen Ding Yi has no connection to Wen Lu, so be it! But look at how that girl is arranging the funeral for Wen Ru Jian—would anyone who wasn’t family do this much? It’s only because I’m covering it up here. Outside, who wouldn’t understand the truth?”

The Empress gritted her teeth, “It’s Hong Zan’s ruthlessness—he’s pulled out even the last seedling. He knows his way around; someone is imprisoned in the Ministry of Justice, and he can kill at will. Quite capable indeed.”

The Emperor nodded, pacing around the man-high gilt incense burner, “So cleverness defeats itself. If he hadn’t been so impatient, I wouldn’t have caught him by the tail.”

“What about Ding Yi?” the Empress followed behind him, asking, “How will her marriage to the Twelfth Prince be handled?”

The Emperor turned to look at her, “Are you suffering from your old problem again? Womanly kindness… misleads the ruler.”

The Empress blurted out, “Anyway, I can’t bear to see this. I’ll mention it to my father later. After this matter passes, if Ding Yi is willing, she can stay at our residence for a few days. Then she could become an adopted daughter or something, and the marriage could be arranged. After all, you’re already covering up this matter—one more instance won’t matter.”

The Emperor snorted, wanting to object but ultimately giving up. He turned to look at the colorful paintings on the eaves, pointing with his finger, “How did this spot become bare? Send someone to fix it quickly… If the couple is willing, then do as you say.”

The Empress sighed. Women understand women best, and whether Ding Yi and the Twelfth Prince could have a future together was truly uncertain. She wasn’t a girl raised in seclusion and lacked that habitual dependency. If set free, she would find her food—she could survive without a man. The deaths of her parents and brothers were thorns in her heart, embedded too deeply to be removed. As an outsider, the Empress could try to create favorable conditions for her, but whether Ding Yi would accept them remained to be seen.

There was remnant snow on the distant rooftops. She sat by the window looking out, where someone had released a beautiful woman-shaped kite. It flew high above the Forbidden City, fluttering vigorously, soaring higher and higher until it became a blurry black dot, indistinguishable in the distance.

While the inner palace enjoyed peaceful days, the Ministry of Justice prison remained eternally gloomy and terrifying.

Two jailers carried buckets to deliver food to each cell. When they reached the Marquis’s cell, they didn’t see him extend his bowl. One jailer grew impatient and peered in, saying, “What’s wrong with you? Afraid our food is poisoned? You haven’t eaten anything all day. Keep this up, and you’ll soon be as thin as a lamp wick. Listen to me—if it’s fortune, not misfortune, if it’s misfortune, you can’t escape it. Be at ease. If you must die, at least die with a full belly, right?”

The commotion last night had awakened the entire prison. Suddenly realizing how close death was, anyone would be afraid. Ji Lan Tai, his thumb hooked on the rim of his bowl, tremblingly held it out. He didn’t have time to care about their disrespect and only inquired, “That Wen Ru Jian, is he dead?”

The jailer scooped a ladle of mushy noodles into his bowl, casually replying, “Yes, dead and taken back for a funeral. What’s the point of living? In the end, it’s just a matter of one breath. Before he died, he wrote the character ‘Zhuang’—isn’t that accusing Prince Zhuang? Well, well, the Twelfth Prince publicly impeached Prince Zhuang in court today. Prince Zhuang’s luck has run out now—he’s been stripped of his duties and confined to his residence.”

Ji Lan Tai looked as if his eyes had been damaged by rain, his eyelids fluttering so rapidly that his pupils were barely visible. “Are you saying Prince Zhuang has been confined?”

“Yes.” The two jailers lifted their carrying poles. “This time, everyone who relied on Prince Zhuang’s household will fall from power. But even though he eliminated that Wen boy, he’s taken a big fall himself. It’s worth it. Letting someone who has evidence against you live is practically asking for death. Better to strike first.”

The jailers moved to the next cell, while Ji Lan Tai felt drained of strength and slumped to the ground. Prince Zhuang had fallen, but fallen or not, he still had remnants of power and would continue to eliminate those who knew the inside story. Wen Ru Jian was dead—who would be next? He dared not think about it and clutched his head with both hands. Hong Zan had promised to exonerate him, but now he couldn’t even clean up his mess—how could he care about Ji Lan Tai? Not ordering his execution would already be a blessing.

He collapsed onto the straw pile, the moldy smell of rotten wheat stalks rising straight to his crown, but he had no mind to complain. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind empty.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when, in a daze, he heard the sound of iron chains rattling at the door. He scrambled to his feet. There were two men, dressed as bailiffs, with their hats pulled low, concealing their faces.

In the middle of the night, there shouldn’t be an interrogation at this hour. He stepped back, “Which department are you from?”

The two men entered, efficiently restraining him and covering his mouth to prevent him from shouting.

“Which department? One of the men chuckled, “The King of Hell’s department. Our master invites you for tea.”

He struggled with muffled sounds. The other man unhurriedly pulled out his waistband and tied a loop on the prison door. “Yesterday, people came and you escaped by a hair. You were lucky. We received orders, and we must complete our task. We’re paid to solve problems for others. Sir, you must understand our position.”

Ji Lan Tai couldn’t resign himself to fate. Using all his strength, he managed to break free, and holding up his pants, wanted to call for help, but their knife was already at his throat. “Do you think this is a theater where you can just belt out a tune? I can put this knife in and pull it out red. Don’t believe me? Try it.”

Ji Lan Tai was in tears, cursing, “I followed him for thirty years. If not for my achievements, I at least have put in the work. Now he turns on me? Yu Wen Hong Zan, I curse his ancestors for eight generations!”

The two men exchanged smiles, “Don’t wrongly accuse people. It wasn’t Prince Zhuang who sent us.”

“Son of a bitch, if not him, then who? If you have the guts to kill me, don’t be afraid I’ll remember you on the road to hell…”

As he continued to speak foully, the two men slipped the noose around his neck. “When you go down to meet Commissioner Wen, please pass a message to him for us brothers. Tell him we wish him peace.” With that, they swept his legs, and as he lost his balance, his weight fell on his neck. Immediately his eyes rolled back, unable to breathe.

Several princes and ministers stood in a cell separated by a wooden board, listening from beginning to end with furrowed brows. The guards who had been sent out returned to report. Hong Ce’s objective had been achieved. He waved his hand, ordering Ji Lan Tai to be lowered, then without a word, led the way, guiding everyone into the tea room.

“My ears are troubled, and I don’t know what Ji Lan Tai said. Did you all hear clearly?” He cupped his hands, “I invite you all to return for now. Tomorrow in court, there will be a decision.” Everyone agreed and filed out. The Thirteenth Prince walked slowly, and Hong Ce reached out to pull him aside, leaning against the doorframe, “I’ve been extremely exhausted lately. After Ji Lan Tai confesses tomorrow, Hong Zan will be handed over to you. Regarding Wen Lu’s case, consider it a personal favor from an elder brother. Please handle it well for me. Yesterday I received intelligence that the situation in Khalkha is unstable. I estimate that before long, I’ll have to go there to suppress the rebellion… Once I leave, my return is uncertain…” He shook his head with infinite melancholy.

Hong Run pressed his wrist, “Twelfth Brother is working too hard. If the court sends troops, you should feign illness and decline.”

He sighed and still shook his head, saying no more as he walked dejectedly into the moonlight.

He didn’t return to Prince Chun’s residence but went directly to Wine and Vinegar Bureau Alley. Upon entering, he saw the main building draped in white cloth, with paper chariots and horses filling the courtyard, rustling in the wind alongside the chanting of monks and the striking of bells.

Sha Tong came forward to pay his respects. Hong Ce looked toward the house, “Is everything prepared?”

Sha Tong replied, “We’ve engaged someone to write the funeral announcement. The fortune-teller has calculated the time for encoffining, which will be tomorrow at the hour of You.”

He made an affirmative sound, “Where is the Fu Jin?”

Sha Tong replied with a troubled expression, “The Fu Jin doesn’t allow us to call her Fu Jin anymore… Ever since the Young Master was laid out, she has been keeping vigil by the bamboo bed, not moving a step. You weren’t here in the afternoon when Miss Suo came. She cried so…” He patted his knee and sighed, “This servant has never seen anything so tragic. If the Suo family hadn’t forcibly taken her away, she might have joined him by now. Thinking about it seriously, with the Young Master gone, the most pitiful are the two of them.”

Indeed, one was his sister, and the other was the fiancée who had waited for over ten years. They had thought that after overcoming this hurdle, good days would be ahead, but it was all just empty joy.

His nose stung, and he turned his face away. Concerned about Ding Yi, yet somewhat afraid to see her, he hesitated for a long time before stepping onto the stairs.

She knelt there in mourning clothes, her thin silhouette appearing desolate. After burning incense to pay his respects, he approached and called to her, saying softly, “I’ve ordered people to keep vigil for you. Continuing like this, I fear you won’t endure. You should go back to your room and rest for a while.”

She didn’t even turn her head. He knew she resented him. He was also full of self-reproach and helplessness, but anything he said now would be too late. His heart was torn, and his lips couldn’t help but twitch. After composing himself, he said, “Today the court issued an edict, stripping Prince Zhuang of his actual power and keeping him confined in his residence awaiting trial. Ji Lan Tai has also confessed. The case should be concluded tomorrow. The subsequent matters won’t be handled by me but will be taken over by Prince Rui and the Court of Judicial Review. I’ve entrusted Hong Run, asking him to ensure justice for the Wen family…”

“What use is it now?” Her eyes were filled with tears, and through that watery shell, her gaze was hard, piercing to the heart, “Can an exoneration bring back the lives of my parents and brothers? Let’s not talk about the distant past, just the present. After such a roundabout journey, he still died at the hands of your Yu Wen family. You said you would protect him completely—did you fulfill that? You told me to rest assured, but my Third Brother is dead. You didn’t keep your promise. I’ve been kneeling here all day, thinking about many things. If we hadn’t returned to Beijing, he would certainly be alive and well. It was my greed; I only thought of myself and dragged him into this fire pit. I can never forgive myself for the rest of my life. And you? Why did I have to meet you?” She slowly shook her head, “I regret it, regret it beyond words. I shouldn’t have thought about being with you. I should have left the Central Plains with Ru Jian, done as he said, found someone good to marry, and started a new life. But I…” Her words reached a point of hatred where she could no longer continue, and she slapped herself hard.

He watched in alarm and moved to grab her hand, “Don’t do this…”

She pushed him away, looking at him with slumped shoulders, “At that time, I thought of you every day, hoping you would find me, even daring to dream of becoming your Fu Jin. Looking back now, what have I done? Because of my selfishness, I caused my Third Brother’s death—an error I can never make up for in my lifetime. I have failed my Third Brother and also Hai Lan. She came today; did you see what she looked like? Do you know the pain of all hope turning to bubbles?” She laughed mockingly, “You’re a prince; how could you understand? Common people are like ants to you—what does it matter if they die?”

Her words pained him deeply. For a long time, he had been striving. If he hadn’t met her, he wouldn’t have paid attention to the Wen Lu case, and wouldn’t have tried every means to seek justice for the Wen family. Unfortunately, they were one step too late. Ru Jian was dead, slipping through their fingers. He was also sad and heartsick, but why did she hate him so?

He couldn’t be angry with her. Perhaps she needed to hate someone to offset the pain in her heart. He looked at Ru Jian’s face and nodded, “It’s my fault. I was incompetent. I failed Third Brother. Security in the prison had already been strengthened, with patrols at night. Who could enter and commit murder? I’m also completely baffled. Fortunately, we’ve caught Hong Zan. As for the truth of the matter, there will naturally be a final judgment.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, gritting her teeth, “I don’t care about the truth. I want to avenge my entire family. I want to kill the enemy with my own hands!”

He looked at her in surprise, “What do you mean?”

She stood proudly, her back straight as a board, “I’ve held the knife under my master for six years, and it’s about time for me to display my skills. Prince Zhuang, with so many murder cases to his name—shouldn’t he be beheaded at the Gate of Supreme Harmony?”

Did she want to return to her old profession? How could that be possible? He didn’t know how to counsel her at the moment. She was consumed by anger now and probably wouldn’t listen to anything he said. He could only patiently explain to her, “The Great Qing deals with imperial clan members by allowing them to retain their intact bodies and commit suicide. It concerns the face of the imperial family—they would never be publicly beheaded for all to see. I know you hate in your heart and need to vent. You can scold me or hit me, but don’t turn against yourself.”

Ding Yi had become fixated. She knew she was being unreasonable, but where could she release all her resentment? He was always so calm—why could he be so calm? She stared at him intently, “Do you know what I’m thinking now? I’m thinking, if I died, would you immediately kill Prince Zhuang?”

His heart trembled, and he was so angry he felt dizzy, “Must you act on impulse? If you want revenge, I’ll find a way to fulfill that wish. Why say such things? Ru Jian’s death doesn’t grieve only you. I’ve always hoped for your siblings to be well. After the case was settled, I planned to redeem the Wen family compound so Ru Jian could restore the family business, and you would have a maternal home to visit… But it’s all over. Ru Jian is gone as a well-built house collapsed in half. My heart is also riddled with wounds. I know he lies in state at home while I put on a brave face outside, maneuvering among ministers and the Emperor. To speak honestly, I no longer want to be involved, I want to let go, but can I?”

Their voices grew louder. Arguing in the funeral hall was not appropriate. Guan Zhao Jing and Sha Tong hurried forward to mediate, “Things have already come to this point. Both of you, please restrain your grief! Please don’t quarrel before the Young Master, lest he depart uneasily. Fu Jin, think of Miss Suo. Your heart aches, but so does hers. You still need to comfort her. If you also plunge into despair, what will Miss Suo do?”

Hearing this, she calmed down and said coldly, “Serve your master and take him back. Don’t let him come here again. The money my Third Brother left is enough for me to establish myself for a lifetime…” As she spoke, tears choked her words, and endless bitterness surged up. She turned away, prostrating herself beside the bamboo bed, unable to hold back her sobs.

Was she planning to sever all ties with him? She was thoroughly disappointed in him and unwilling to forgive him anymore.

“Ding Yi, give me one more chance…” He staggered forward, half-kneeling on the ground, shaking her, “Whatever wish you have, I’ll fulfill it for you. Please don’t hate me.”

She had hardened her heart, but she was still alive and still felt pain. He called out to her in a mournful voice. She gripped the burial clothes tightly, wanting to drive him away. Just as she opened her mouth, her heart convulsed, and she felt as if she had been hollowed out, collapsing at the foot of the bed.