Zhu Nanxian glanced at Su Jin. Without time to say more, he immediately turned and braced the door with his back, tersely saying: “Quick!”

Su Jin understood. She raised her hand to draw the thin curtain and swiftly removed her garment to wind the binding cloth.

The palace servant couldn’t push the door open and reported to Zhu Minda: “Your Highness, the door seems to be barred.”

Zhu Minda said coldly: “Break it down!”

Two palace servants worked together to ram the door. With a cracking sound, the door bar seemed to split. The two door panels clearly opened inward by a crack but then slammed shut again with a bang.

Zhu Minda narrowed his eyes, his expression extremely ugly. He said in a deep voice: “Bring candles.”

The daylight was dim, clouds thick as layer upon layer pressed down, casting a large shadow over the front palace hall. By candlelight, Zhu Minda could clearly see the silhouette of Zhu Nanxian silently bracing against the door panels.

He laughed coldly and immediately commanded: “Feathered Forest Guards!”

“Present!”

Zhu Minda said: “Break down the door!”

The Feathered Forest Guards’ strength was not comparable to that of palace servants. Four working together rammed through, and Zhu Nanxian finally could not hold.

The tremendous impact made him lose his center of gravity. As he fell forward, he knocked over the nearby table. The vanity case fell, the bronze mirror shattered across the floor, and his knee landed precisely on a piece of broken mirror.

Zhu Nanxian couldn’t care about the pain. He looked toward Su Jin and saw that in the instant the door broke open, she had already changed back into the long jacket. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.

Zhu Minda crossed the threshold. The first thing he saw was Zhu Nanxian’s bleeding knee. His eyes grew even darker. He glanced sideways at the imperial physician, who hurriedly brought his medicine box over.

The side chamber was extremely messy. Before the sleeping couch there was even a curtain—who knew what that bastard Thirteen had been doing inside.

Zhu Minda walked straight to Su Jin and said coldly: “Su Jin?”

Su Jin prostrated herself: “Your Highness, this subject is he.”

Five years ago, Thirteen had gone mad and caused havoc at the Ministry of Personnel for him. And to this very day, it was still for him!

It seemed this person absolutely had to be eliminated.

Zhu Minda’s voice no longer held a trace of warmth: “Feathered Forest Guards, take this person out and beat him to death with the rod for the crime of bringing disaster upon the master!”

It wasn’t until the hour of the Monkey that Liu Chaoming and the Six Ministry Ministers withdrew from Fengtian Hall.

After morning court, Emperor Jingyuan ordered the Seven Ministers to remain to discuss the case of northern and southern scholars. Who would have thought that Liu Chaoming would actually remonstrate, saying that Elder Qiu and Yan Ziyan’s crimes did not warrant death. These words not only touched His Majesty’s forbidden scales but also implicated the Six Ministry Ministers, who all suffered a round of Emperor Jingyuan’s displeasure.

Finally, Emperor Jingyuan said: “Minister Liu is young, narrow-minded and hot-tempered, unable to see things long-term. You should return and reflect in self-examination for one month. You need not come see me again.”

This meant suspending him from morning court for one month.

After the Seven Ministers withdrew and walked together to the terrace platform, Minister of Rites Luo Songtang was the first unable to hold back, complaining to Liu Chaoming: “What were you thinking, young man? Usually you’re like a mute gourd, but you had to provoke His Majesty’s displeasure at this critical juncture. What His Majesty thinks—don’t we understand as clearly as looking in a mirror? From the very beginning of this case, Elder Qiu’s head was already not on his own neck, yet you still want to pick it up and sew it back on? The justice the northern scholars seek isn’t limited to just this one examination. What they want is the imperial heart—His Majesty is doing this precisely to show them!”

Hearing these words, Zeng Youliang of the Ministry of Personnel mocked: “Minister Luo, you speak wrongly. What kind of person is Minister Liu? The Left Chief Censor of the Imperial Censorate—if this were the previous dynasty, that would be the Censor-in-Chief, head of the remonstrating officials. Direct remonstrance is his duty. That we were implicated by him is only proper. Don’t you, Minister Luo, also understand as clearly as looking in a mirror? This case—whether it’s unjust or not, don’t you have a scale in your heart? How is it that before His Majesty, you become like a gourd without a mouth?”

Minister Gong of the Ministry of War loudly exclaimed: “In this old man’s view, in future when the Seven Ministers have audience, we seven should first unify our message, lest one provoke His Majesty and the remaining six also have no good days.” So saying, he glared at Shen Tuo: “What were you thinking, as Minister of Justice? The Left Chief Censor remonstrates, and you follow along echoing him? You’re brother offices—anyone can echo, except you. Doesn’t this make His Majesty feel that you two are joining together to vex His Venerable Self?”

Shen Tuo said lightly: “Oh, then in future this old man won’t speak. We’ll all learn from Minister Luo. When His Majesty asks ‘what is your beloved minister’s view,’ we’ll reply, ‘Your Majesty’s imperial mind alone decides, supremely wise. This subject prostrates himself completely and dares not speak recklessly again.’ Then what use are the Six Ministries and the Imperial Censorate? Abolish them all!”

Luo Songtang was displeased: “Hey, hey, hey, we’re talking about Liu Yun—how did you drag me into it!”

Minister Liu of the Ministry of Works was a peacemaker. Seeing the other ministers arguing irreconcilably, he hurriedly mediated: “Don’t quarrel, don’t quarrel. In this old man’s view, you gentlemen all have your points. Minister Liu’s direct remonstrance wasn’t wrong either. He’s young—we several should be more tolerant. However, having said that, Liu Yun, you must also listen to what this old man says. His Majesty decides alone and has never been one to let things be. When His Venerable Self has made up his mind, anyone who says more is insubordinate. It’s only because His Majesty values you that he merely suspended you from morning court for one month. If it were us old fellows, we’d probably be immediately dismissed and investigated.”

He paused, then looked at the expressions of those beside him—all dark and displeased. He then broke into a smile: “It’s really not that serious. In my view, Minister Gong is right. In future when we seven have audience, we’ll unify our message, and this page will be turned.” Then he elbowed the silent Minister Qian of the Ministry of Revenue beside him. “Old Qian, what do you think?”

Qian Zhihuan laughed: “Whatever. This old man just manages the treasury keys. As long as it doesn’t involve silver, you gentlemen devise the plans and this old man will follow along firing cannons.”

These words inevitably carried a hint of “sweeping the snow before one’s own door.” The Six Ministry Ministers each had their own thoughts and stopped responding.

As the seven spoke on the terrace platform, Zhao Yan and several other officials waited below, not daring to approach.

The Great Sui was unlike previous dynasties. Below the emperor, there was no prime minister beneath one person and above ten thousand. Emperor Jingyuan was the founding monarch. Since abolishing the Secretariat and eliminating the position of Chief Minister (Note 1), he had placed the Six Ministries and Imperial Censorate directly under himself.

These seven second-rank officials were precisely those closest to imperial power (Note 2). The other first-rank Junior Guardians and Junior Preceptors were merely empty titles.

Liu Chaoming saw Zhao Yan anxiously waiting for him. He bowed farewell to the Six Ministry Ministers and came to the base of the terrace platform: “What’s wrong?”

Zhao Yan lowered his head, hesitated slightly, then raised his eyes to stare at him: “I’m telling you, don’t be alarmed—it’s Su Jin. Something happened.”

Liu Chaoming froze, then without a word strode swiftly toward the Imperial Censorate.

Zhao Yan chased after him a few steps and grabbed him: “Didn’t I tell you not to be hasty?” He paused, pointing in the direction of the front palace hall: “It’s over there.”

Liu Chaoming’s brow furrowed tightly: “What happened?”

Zhao Yan sighed heavily: “Truth be told, you and I are to blame for this.” He then recounted how Su Jin had the incident, how she fell into the water, and how she ended up at the front palace hall. Finally he added: “Who knows who has such vast connections to plant someone in the Imperial Censorate. Right now His Highness the Crown Prince sees that the Thirteenth Prince has been causing a commotion inside and out again because of Su Jin, and I heard he was even injured. In his anger, he wants to beat Su Jin to death. I came to ask you—how should this be handled? I’ve already ordered Qian San’er to thoroughly investigate the Imperial Censorate and find that palace servant who delivered the medicine. You should prepare yourself on your end, so when His Highness the Crown Prince asks, you’ll have an explanation, right?”

The depths of Liu Chaoming’s eyes surged with wind and clouds. He didn’t even have time to deliberate, saying tersely and briefly: “Save him first.” He walked toward the front palace hall.

Zhao Yan was stunned. This time he couldn’t hold him back and could only walk quickly alongside him: “Have you not thought this through, or what? Yesterday at the Office of Remonstrance when you burned the policy essay, His Highness the Crown Prince already gave you face. Today Su Jin has truly touched the forbidden scales. If you still want to save him, you’re buying a life from the Eastern Palace! Currently the Crown Prince and the Seventh Prince are like fire and water. The Imperial Censorate has never helped either side. Having incurred such a debt of gratitude, have you thought about how to repay it in future? You’re the Left Chief Censor, ranked among the Seven Ministers. If you become caught in the center of struggles over administration, imperial power, and the heir’s position, how will you conduct yourself in future?”

Liu Chaoming’s steps carried not the slightest pause: “Future matters can be discussed in the future.”

Zhao Yan took a deep breath: “Liu Yun, I know you’re someone who values promises more than gold. When the old Censor asked you to protect Su Jin and you couldn’t, you’ve felt guilty ever since. But so what? Those bastards at the Ministry of Personnel wrote Songshan County on the directive but took Su Jin somewhere else. That year, to keep your promise, you left the capital alone to find him, searching for most of half a year—shouldn’t that count as repaying the debt? If that’s not enough, yesterday you burned the policy essay for him—doesn’t that count as another debt? The Thirteenth Prince may well be able to protect Su Jin. If you go buy his life from the Eastern Palace, you’re throwing yourself into the fire pit!”

Liu Chaoming’s footsteps paused. He lowered his eyes: “A promise that must be kept is what makes it a promise—otherwise how does it differ from empty words? Moreover, I’m not buying his life from the Eastern Palace because of the old Censor’s entrustment.”

He paused. Before his eyes suddenly flashed Su Jin’s self-reproaching and sorrowful gaze when, covered in blood, she still knelt saying she had “failed in the trust placed in her.” He said softly: “He truly is worth striving to preserve.”

Six Feathered Forest Guards worked together to press Zhu Nanxian down to the ground, restraining his hands, feet and neck respectively, then stuffed his mouth with cloth before he finally stopped moving.

Zhu Minda looked at his imperial brother whose eyes were bloodshot and still desperately trying to struggle. He suddenly felt somewhat afraid that if this continued, Thirteen would be ruined at the hands of this person called Su Shiyu.

Zhu Minda’s murderous intent was set. He asked coldly: “Su Jin, do you know your crime?”

Su Jin lowered her eyes and kowtowed to Zhu Minda: “This subject knows his crime.”

Zhu Minda said indifferently: “Good that you know your crime. No need to choose a place—beat him to death right here.” Then he turned his head, looking coldly at Zhu Nanxian. “Let him watch with his own eyes. That way he can give up hope and sever his attachment.”

Two guards came behind Su Jin. Su Jin stood and walked toward the long bench for punishment, but stopped before Zhu Nanxian. Slowly, very solemnly, she prostrated herself before him in a bow.

Zhu Nanxian knew she was bidding him farewell.

In the instant she rose, he saw that the desolation accumulated in her eyes over five years suddenly transformed into crystal-clear composure.

In this moment, Zhu Nanxian felt he saw the Su Jin from five years ago again, yet saw more clearly.

She had never changed. It turned out that beneath that temperament like clear wind, what had always been hidden was a stubbornness that feared no death.

The Feathered Forest Guards bound Su Jin to the punishment bench. Muffled sounds came from Zhu Nanxian’s gagged mouth. He bit down hard on his teeth—blood actually seeped from the corners of his lips.

Zhu Minda no longer looked at him, saying icily: “Strike.”

The Feathered Forest Guard raised his rod. Just as the staff fell on Su Jin’s body, a voice came from behind: “Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

At the edge of the sky, layers of clouds encroached. The first urgent rain of early summer was about to arrive.

Liu Chaoming stood outside the dim and lightless palace hall. His deep gaze seemed to gather the dense fog of deep autumn as he knelt and bowed deeply to Zhu Minda—

—

Author’s Note:

Note 1: Chief Minister—an official position at the prime ministerial level.

Note 2: According to Ming Dynasty history, after Zhu Yuanzhang abolished the Secretariat, he established the Cabinet, and later the Grand Secretary became equivalent to the prime minister. But in early Ming, when the Cabinet was first established, it was just a group of advisors, with Cabinet officials only around fifth rank. Major matters were decided by the emperor. So here I’ve taken early Ming history and written that the Seven Ministers have supreme power.

Then to clarify a few points:

1. My meaning of “not abusive” is: Male Lead One and Male Lead Two treat the female lead super well from beginning to end—social and environmental factors not considered.

2. The prologue is not the ending. You can glimpse through it but shouldn’t fully believe it. Who dies, who doesn’t, who survives—all uncertain. If you believe everything I say, wouldn’t you be too easily fooled? =v=