Zhu Nanxian leaped down from his horse, helped Zuo Qian up, and asked, “How is the situation?”
Zuo Qian replied, “Reporting to Your Highness, Lord Liu has already ordered the patrol censors to establish barriers on the eastern and western sides of Vermilion Bird Lane for systematic investigation. Commander Tan has also dispatched men to disperse the crowd from the southern lane entrance. This subject has distributed troops to cooperate as much as possible.”
He dared not claim credit. If not for Liu Chaoming taking the initiative after the court deliberation to request that the patrol censors and cavalry commanderies clear and establish barriers from the eastern and western cities, the Imperial Guards could not possibly have reached Vermilion Bird Lane within two hours.
Zhu Nanxian nodded slightly and said, “You’ve worked hard.”
His eyes seemed tempered with starlight. With a slight smile, he appeared extraordinarily distinguished.
Zuo Qian clasped his fists in thanks, then turned to ask Tan Zhaolin, “Commander Tan, are the lords from the Ministry of Rites still safe?”
Having hidden in the teahouse drinking tea for half a day, they couldn’t be any better, Tan Zhaolin thought.
Then his mind turned to Su Jin. Though merely a clerk hardly worth mentioning, Director Jiang had just reminded him, making him suspect Su Jin had some background. Before him stood a group of officials whose ranks could crush a person to death—he didn’t know which one was backing Clerk Su.
He answered truthfully while calculating in his mind, but couldn’t figure anything out. In a broken-jar mentality, he thought: who the hell cares who it is, as long as it’s not that iron-faced Buddha from the Imperial Censorate.
Being a rough man, whatever he thought showed plainly on his face.
Zuo Qian barked, “Speak clearly—don’t spit out half and swallow half.”
Tan Zhaolin hurriedly kowtowed and said, “Reporting to Your Highness, reporting to the Censor, reporting to the Left General—though the lords from the Ministry of Rites are safe, Clerk Su from the Yingtian Prefecture came earlier to help and is currently still trapped in the crowd, having not emerged.”
At these words, the surroundings seemed to quiet somewhat.
Tan Zhaolin slightly raised his eyelids and studied the expressions of the various lords. Liu Chaoming habitually maintained a cold face—that was expected. Though Zhu Nanxian was a prince, he was famously easy to serve, but looking at him now, where could one find even a trace of geniality in his brows and eyes?
Zuo Qian suddenly recalled four years ago when the Thirteenth Prince had caused a great uproar at the Ministry of Personnel—it seemed to be over someone surnamed Su. His thoughts racing, he asked, “Could it be Su Shiyu?”
Tan Zhaolin asked blankly, “What?”
Liu Chaoming, standing to the side, suddenly spoke: “Su Jin. Shiyu is his courtesy name.”
Tan Zhaolin was stunned for a moment before hurriedly saying, “Yes, yes, it’s Su Jin.”
A sense of ill fortune arose in his heart.
What exactly was Su Jin’s background? Even the head of the Imperial Guards and the Left Censor-in-Chief knew his courtesy name? With such influence, why the hell did he still come here? Why did he volunteer to rescue people? Was he trying to get him killed?
Zhu Nanxian suddenly asked, “How long has he been gone?”
Tan Zhaolin replied, “Reporting to Your Highness, he’s been gone for two hours.” As he spoke, he banged his head on the ground, nearly creating a crater. “Reporting to Your Highness, reporting to the Censor—this subordinate knows his error. This subordinate will go find Clerk Su immediately. Once I find him, I’ll cut off my own head and give it to Clerk Su as a ball to play with.”
But no one paid him any more attention.
Over there, Zuo Qian had already ordered the Imperial Guards to form a long dragon formation—two men per row, bearing spears to clear the way, forcibly tearing open a passage through the crowded tide of people in Vermilion Bird Lane.
Seeing this formation, Tan Zhaolin pressed his face to the ground and tremblingly calculated in his heart how many more hours he had left to live.
However, Director Jiang, kneeling beside him and seeing his miserable state, recalled his own situation from a few days ago. Feeling somewhat consoled, he advised from the side, “Commander, look on the bright side. Even if your head is severed, it’s just a scar the size of a bowl.”
Before long, a young soldier came to report that they had found the person.
Zhu Nanxian glanced at Liu Chaoming, nodded slightly, and strode purposefully toward Vermilion Bird Lane. However, after only a few steps, he stopped abruptly.
The long lane stretched deep. The Imperial Guards stood in rows on both sides. At the far end, a person covered in blood stumbled forward.
A long blade still hung from her right side. From this distance, it was unclear whether she gripped or carried it, but she dragged it weakly, the blade’s edge scraping the ground, producing a sharp, piercing sound.
The sunlight before dusk was exceptionally intense, pouring down like molten gold.
Yet dense clouds rose in Su Jin’s heart. Thunder rumbled overhead, and what fell was not rain but ice pellets.
The moment the Imperial Guards took Xu Yuanzhe from her hands, she knew it was over.
In the end, the personal guards had been alarmed, and the Emperor had been alarmed.
Thirty years ago, the previous dynasty fell into chaos and various factions rose up. Emperor Jingyuan commanded armies in the Central Plains, established Sui as the nation with Jingyuan as the reign name. Fifteen years ago, he purged conspirators—executing meritorious officials on charges of treason and collusion with remnants of the previous dynasty, burning the old capital of the Northern Capital to ashes and implicating tens of thousands in the northern territories.
Now the realm was settled, yet because of one examination, the old wounds of northern examination candidates had been reopened.
Regardless of whether anyone had actually committed fraud in this year’s spring examinations, if Emperor Jingyuan wanted to win back the hearts of all under heaven, how many would have to die this time?
Su Jin felt somewhat guilty for a moment, thinking of how Zhang Shishan and Liu Chaoming had entrusted her with this heavy responsibility, yet she had failed in her mission. She hated that she hadn’t prepared earlier, actually letting Sun Yinde take all the office guards away. If only she had been more alert last night—why had she risked her life to salvage the situation only to fall short at the final moment?
But even if she had a hundred more guards, what use would it have been?
Su Jin twisted the corners of her mouth, wanting to laugh but unable to.
Who could have anticipated that an examination case involving north-south disparities would escalate to this extent? She was merely an eighth-rank clerk without heaven-penetrating abilities. Even risking her life only resulted in her own sacrifice—what cosmic order could she possibly reverse?
Forget it, forget it. Her brain must have been waterlogged to presume she could shoulder the fortune of the nation. Who lived or died—what did it have to do with her? She might as well consider her conscience already devoured by dogs, seeking ease and relief.
An Imperial Guard stepped forward to support her, but Su Jin waved her hand and moved aside.
She walked directly before Liu Chaoming, stumbling as she knelt. Opening her mouth, before she could speak, she coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Whether this was due to her bodily injuries or forced out by her turbulent emotions, she didn’t know.
Su Jin raised her sleeve and wiped the corner of her mouth, saying, “Though I exerted every effort, I have failed the trust placed in me. If Your Lordship wishes to punish me, then punish me.”
Liu Chaoming silently observed her.
Her face was pale, the blood at her mouth’s corner was dark—her internal organs were likely injured. The tiger’s mouth of her right hand had split open. Probably lacking the strength to grip the blade, she had bound the hilt to her hand.
Her left arm bore a slash wound, the sleeve torn open, the inner garment soaked red with blood. How many other injuries she had was unknown. Fortunately, not all the blood on her body was her own—some likely belonged to those she had struck down.
Liu Chaoming said flatly, “Twenty strokes of the rod or three years’ salary forfeit—choose one.”
Su Jin lowered her eyes and laughed, “The rod then. Starvation is a small matter, but losing integrity is grave. This humble official is merely a petty clerk—three years’ salary forfeit would leave me unable to make ends meet.”
To still have the strength to joke—she probably wouldn’t die.
Liu Chaoming acknowledged with a sound and said, “The twenty strokes are recorded. Come to the Imperial Censorate another day to receive them. First, find a physician to treat your injuries, lest others say the Imperial Censorate abuses its power to bully people.”
Su Jin kowtowed again to the ground, struggled to stand, and was about to leave when someone behind her called out softly, “Su Jin.”
Su Jin turned around, gazing blankly for a moment at the figure in purple robes, elegant as jade trees facing the wind.
Zhu Nanxian felt somewhat at a loss. He suddenly wondered—after all these years, would Su Jin not remember him?
But he was a prince, the current Crown Prince’s own brother, of exalted status. To be so openly forgotten—wouldn’t that be quite embarrassing?
Thinking of this, Zhu Nanxian coughed and said, “You… you must be Su Jin? This prince just heard—” He paused and glanced at Zuo Qian, who immediately understood and leaned close to his ear, saying, “Surnamed Tan.”
“Commander Tan mentioned that to rescue the newly graduated examination candidates, you ventured deep alone. This prince was about to tell Censor Liu that though punishment is warranted for the offense, reward is also due for the merit. You…” Zhu Nanxian paused again, seeing Su Jin’s expression turn strange, and couldn’t help saying, “You may not have seen this prince before. This prince is—”
However, before he could finish, Su Jin said, “It is His Highness the Thirteenth Prince who does not remember. This humble subject once had the fortune of meeting Your Highness.” So saying, she bowed directly to Zhu Nanxian: “This humble subject Su Jin pays respects to His Highness the Thirteenth Prince.”
Zhu Nanxian was stunned for a moment, his heart alternating between joy and chagrin. Seeing her kneeling and rising, aggravating her wounds, he immediately said, “Rise.” Then, with self-satisfaction, he added, “Ah, no wonder this prince found you quite familiar. Are your injuries serious? Zuo Qian, go immediately to the Imperial Medical Bureau and summon the Chief Physician.”
Su Jin said, “That’s unnecessary. This humble subject’s injuries are not serious—finding an ordinary physician will suffice.” She bowed again with clasped hands: “Thank you for Your Highness’s kind concern. If there is nothing else, this humble subject begs Your Highness’s permission to withdraw.”
Having made a fool of himself by failing to recognize someone right before him, and seeing Su Jin insist on leaving, Zhu Nanxian felt it improper to detain her further and let her go.
As the slanting sun set, before long, the Five Commanderies’ Cavalry and the Imperial Guards had completely dispersed the crowd in Vermilion Bird Lane. Liu Chaoming, seeing the matter concluded here, said he still needed to return to the palace to report to the Emperor and took his leave of Zhu Nanxian.
The several high officials from the Ministry of Rites, seeing this, bowed three times to Zhu Nanxian and followed after Liu Chaoming.
However, a Vice Minister from the Ministry of Justice who had arrived at some unknown time dragged a death row prisoner before Zhu Nanxian and asked, “Your Highness the Thirteenth Prince, how should this death row prisoner be handled?”
Zhu Nanxian was puzzled: “Your Ministry of Justice handles death row prisoners—why ask this prince?”
The Vice Minister wore a bitter expression: “It doesn’t concern Your Highness, but this death row prisoner was originally requested by Lord Liu for Clerk Su, yet Clerk Su seems to have forgotten about it. When this humble subject asked Lord Liu how to handle it as he was leaving, he said that since Your Highness was present, he couldn’t make the decision himself.”
Zhu Nanxian had wanted to say that in any case, being a death row prisoner, just execute him on an auspicious day. But hearing the Vice Minister’s explanation, he couldn’t help but take another look at the death row prisoner and asked, “This person was requested by Clerk Su?”
The Vice Minister replied, “Presumably so.”
Thus Zhu Nanxian pondered for a while, then said solemnly, “Take him to this prince’s residence. Treat him well with good food and drink—do not neglect him in the slightest.”
—
Author’s Note: Had a headache all morning and only started writing in the afternoon—sorry to keep everyone waiting.
Seeing some asking, I’ll mention: Female lead: 22/23, Male lead: 25/26. In ancient times, they’re considered overage youth, but indeed the man is unmarried and the woman unwed. Other main characters are also within the 22-27 age range.