When the night grew deeper, horns sounded within the palace.

The hour of zi had arrived—another year had passed.

The New Year’s Eve of the second year of Yongji—the palace held no banquets, and everywhere was cold and desolate. The rear palace was empty, and even half the guards had been dismissed to return home or to barracks. Those patrolling at night were all palace attendants.

A young fire tender passing by the Six Ministries saw from afar a tall figure approaching. Raising his wind lantern to illuminate, it turned out to be palace attendant Ma Zhao.

“Eunuch Ma, on such a festive New Year’s, you’re also on duty?”

“What else?” Ma Zhao smiled. “People like us are all alone and without family. We don’t celebrate New Year’s. As long as we patrol the front and rear palaces well and His Majesty’s mind is at ease, only then can our New Year’s be considered smooth.”

He was now quite a personage, having served two Grand Eunuchs. During the Jin’an era he had even served Lord Su, and now in the Yongji reign, it was said that once Emperor Yongji’s bedchamber was built, he would be summoned to serve as a steward there.

The fire tender acknowledged this and walked half a step ahead of Ma Zhao, holding up the lantern to light his way.

The Six Ministries complex was vast. Treading through snow, they walked very slowly, patrolling from the corridor outside the Zhengwu Gate to the Ministry of Justice prison. Most of the hour of yin had already passed.

Dawn was breaking. Between the tower pavilions hung a veil of morning mist. Looking far ahead, there seemed to be someone lying in the snow. At first glance, one might think it was a corpse.

“Ah!” The fire tender cried out in alarm.

However, with the Grand Eunuch beside him, he dared not show cowardice. Mustering his courage to go forward and look, he discovered the figure looked very familiar: “Eunuch Ma, over there—over there seems to be Duke Shen.”

Ma Zhao’s eyes showed surprise. Taking the wind lantern, he quickened his pace.

The slight sound of footsteps in the snow disturbed Shen Xi.

He had been lying here all night. Opening his eyes for a moment without making a sound, he slowly raised one hand and stopped the approaching person.

The icy snow water soaked through his cloak, gradually penetrating his garments and seeping into his skin.

Yet he seemed not to feel the cold at all. Looking up, he couldn’t see the sky like a canopy. A faint thread of dawn light seemed like a dream or phantom. In a daze, he thought he saw when he was very small—when Big Sister and Second Sister were still there, when Grandfather and Grandmother were still there too, when Shen Tuo’s official rank was not high, when the four siblings would bicker constantly in the Shen residence. Big Sister was steady, Second Sister was gentle. He was only one year older than Shen Jun—the two of them were the most mischievous, quarreling every other day.

Or perhaps he saw the day Lin’er was born, when he and Shisan competed to hold him. That tiny little person nestled in their arms, completely unafraid of strangers. Seeing him, Lin’er would giggle with laughter. Seeing Shisan, he would also giggle with laughter.

At that time, Shen Jing had just finished giving birth and was still weak. Through the curtain she called to Shisan, saying: “Later write a letter to Third Sister and tell her Lin’er has been born, so she can be at ease.”

Both Shen Jing and Shen Jun were like this—always feeling that Shisan’s temperament was better than Shen Xi’s. When there were family matters, they mostly entrusted them to Shisan.

The past was somewhat old now, and recalling it was also hazy. Shen Xi only remembered that at that time in his youth, he had felt somewhat indignant. However close Shisan was to the Shen household, he was still ultimately of the Zhu family. Besides, was Shisan’s temper really that good? Reckless, willful, flamboyant, impulsive, careless, plus the arrogance and imposing manner that came naturally from being born legitimate imperial lineage—if he hadn’t joined the military from childhood, outside the palace he would practically be called a tyrannical young master.

Therefore he always loved to compete with him, wanting to dampen his imposing airs. Relying on his own cleverness, when Shisan went east, he would go west. When Shisan went north, he would go south. Bickering and quarreling through an entire youth, yet they never actually had a falling out.

Shen Xi thought, probably Shisan had been yielding to him.

He really was too terrible. Later, when he learned that Minghua Palace had caught fire, only one thought remained in his heart—Shisan had actually treated him very well. In his short life of just over twenty years, things had been very difficult for him too. He should have competed with him less, let him live more comfortably.

Shen Xi had sensed something was wrong as early as mid-October. At first he detected slight clues from the wording of Su Jin’s letters. Later in the eleventh month, when the court received news from the three guards of Muyan, he completely guessed the causes and consequences of events. By then it was too late to rush back. In his anxiety he fortunately steadied his mind and first mobilized all available forces to conceal from Liu Yun and Zhu Yushen’s eyes and ears, sending Lin’er and Shuxiang to Shu.

At that time Shuxiang had asked: “Young master, since the Fourth Prince and Lord Liu both know that this servant and Lin’er are going to Shu, why are you still sending us there?”

Shen Xi couldn’t explain it clearly either.

Perhaps because with Zhu Yushen ruling the realm, anywhere under heaven was actually the same.

Perhaps because Shu was naturally fortified—entering Shu always required some effort. Even if pursuers were discovered, there would still be ample time to flee again.

Or perhaps because of what Shen Jing had said to Shuxiang before dying: “If you can survive, take Lin’er to Shu, give him a humble name. Don’t let him be surnamed Zhu, and don’t let him be surnamed Shen either. Then raise him. For his entire life, never tell him who he really is, who his parents are.”

He smiled slightly and said: “Elder Sister said to give Lin’er a humble name. Have you thought of one?”

Shuxiang said: “This servant hasn’t. This servant has only read books for a few days and fears choosing poorly, being disrespectful to the young prince.”

Shen Xi said: “Then let him take your surname.”

Shuxiang was a little maid the Shen household had picked up during famine years. She had followed Shen Jing since childhood. The two characters “Shuxiang” were given by Shen Jing—what surname could she have? She couldn’t very well be surnamed Shu.

“Take the ‘wood’ character from ‘Shu.’ Surname Mu.” Shen Xi looked at Lin’er. He could already speak now, could call him uncle. He was as clever as always before, except having experienced the hardships of the mortal world, at only six years old he was more sensible and precocious than ordinary children. “Just call him Mutou.”

Shen Xi lay in the snow, looking at the morning light.

All gone, all of them gone. Only he remained alone.

Otherwise, he should also go—go to Shu, find Mutou and Shuxiang, then take them to Ningzhou to find Shiyu. From now on, all these scattered remnants clinging to life could manage to become one family. Afterward they could leave Great Sui together. Thinking about it, it actually wasn’t bad.

If so, then why was he still lying here, still within this Great Sui deep palace?

Surely it couldn’t be that Zhu Yushen had persuaded him?

He had served in the Ministry of Revenue for over ten years, held the rank of Vice Minister and Minister for nearly seven years. He knew that now with wars ceasing on all four sides, Great Sui’s people’s livelihoods awaited revival in every aspect. There were still many tasks unfinished. If he abandoned the Ministry of Revenue and left, how could the court endure such difficult days?

Shouldering this burden for so long, responsibility had practically become an instinct. This appearance of his, caught in a dilemma, was truly loathsome—just like returning to before when he tried to leave room in everything to achieve both goals. In the end, hadn’t it all still ended in failure?

Shen Xi couldn’t help but laugh self-mockingly a few times.

Ma Zhao and the fire tender, seeing Shen Xi seemed to have lost his mind, didn’t dare go far and waited in the snow.

The sky brightened completely. Not far away came the light sound of a copper lock. In a moment, two prisoners in prison robes were led out by jailers from the back door of the Ministry of Justice prison. Looking carefully, they were actually female prisoners.

One of the women seemed unwilling and was still saying something to the jailer. The jailer looked troubled, desperately explaining.

Ma Zhao found it strange. With Su Shiyu gone, had all the rules disappeared? Since when did the Ministry of Justice show such patience with prisoners?

“Go see what’s happening there. Don’t disturb Lord Shen.”

The fire tender acknowledged and went to ask a few questions, but seemed uncertain. Turning his head back to look once, he led both the prisoners and jailer over together.

It turned out these two female prisoners were actually Su Jin’s younger sister Su Wan and Tan Zhaolin’s wife, Tan Shi.

Before Tan Zhaolin left the capital, he had dismissed the Shu household servants and instructed Tan Shi to return to their hometown with Su Wan, the faster the better. Who knew they would be followed halfway, escorted back to the capital, and thus imprisoned in the Ministry of Justice prison.

Hearing they were actually people from the Su household, Ma Zhao was also troubled. Looking toward Duke Shen who still lay in the snow, thinking that to untie a bell one must use the person who tied it, he had an idea. Stepping forward he reported: “Duke, the two women who just came out of the Ministry of Justice prison are originally from the Su household. One of them is even Lord Su’s younger sister. She says she wants to find Lord Su, but the Lord left the capital nearly a month ago. What do you think—should we summon them to see you?”

People from the Su household?

Shiyu’s younger sister?

Hearing this, Shen Xi indeed responded with an “mm,” slowly sitting up from the snow: “Summon those two here.”

Su Wan hadn’t lived many good days in Qizhou. Later after coming to the capital and being the young lady of the Vice Minister’s residence for half a month, she was caught in the struggle between Su Jin and Zhu Zhaowei, living in fear every day. Hearing that Duke Shen wanted to see her, for a moment she couldn’t discern who this was, only knowing he was an official of great rank. Without even looking at his face she kowtowed and bowed: “This lord, I beg you, allow this commoner woman to see Su Jin, Lord Su. He is this commoner woman’s third brother.”

Shen Xi looked at her. After a while, he said: “Shiyu bears guilt and has been exiled. Moreover, having once served as Minister of Justice, executing criminal laws and codes yet knowingly breaking the law, for three years no one may visit him. Otherwise the crime increases by one degree.”

And for the crime of exile increased by one degree, that would be the extreme punishment of decapitation.

Whether Su Wan could understand, Shen Xi didn’t wait for her answer but asked again: “Why were you arrested and imprisoned?”

At this question, Su Wan fell silent.

Tan Shi recognized Shen Xi. She explained the causes and consequences for Su Wan, then said: “At that time Lord Su said he would arrange a place for the young lady. It was this commoner woman and old Tan who made the arrangements. Originally we thought no one knew, but who would have thought we’d be followed halfway and arrested for questioning in the prison.”

There were no walls without cracks in this world. When Su Jin arranged Su Wan’s destination, those he could entrust were only those few people. Speaking of it, Tan Shi hadn’t been careful enough. Such simple tracking and pursuit—who among the court and officials couldn’t do it, let alone when their opponent at that time was Liu Yun.

At that time, Su Jin was being imprisoned in the Liu residence. Liu Yun wanted to capture Su Wan to gain another hold over her.

Shen Xi gave an “mm” and asked again: “In the future, what are your plans?”

Tan Shi said: “The Lord has been sent away. This commoner woman is a servant of the Su household, so naturally in the future I’ll follow the young lady.” Then to Su Wan: “Young lady, this Lord Shen is Lord Su’s close friend. You can speak with him.”

Only upon hearing the words “close friend” did Su Wan raise her head. Only then did she discover she actually recognized this person—she’d forgotten at which residence she’d seen him once. At that time Shen Xi was still the “horse keeper” at the Court of Imperial Stud, and though wearing coarse clothes, his features were already refined as a painting. Now wearing a crane patch, covered by a black velvet cloak, standing alone in this palace snow scene, both brilliant and cold, he was practically impossible to look at directly.

She lowered her eyes again: “If this lord doesn’t find it too troublesome, could you first send me and Sister-in-law Tan back to the countryside? I have some jewelry and silver stored there that Third Brother gave me before. This commoner woman knows the Su household has already been confiscated. I want to purchase another dwelling in the capital—a thatched cottage or tile house will do, as long as it can be near the former Su residence.”

Shen Xi’s brow furrowed slightly: “You won’t return to Qizhou?”

“This commoner woman’s family… treats this commoner woman poorly. Only Third Brother treats me well.” Su Wan’s voice was thin.

Actually these words were still euphemistic. Su Wan’s background—Shen Xi had heard Su Jin mention it. She was born of a concubine to begin with, her birth mother died early. After the Su household fell apart, everyone was unwilling to spare this orphan girl even a bit. Not only was she driven out, but her legal mother even had designs on her, wanting to marry her to a Qizhou tyrant in exchange for some betrothal gifts.

Sympathy wasn’t picked up for free. Growing up like this, yet still preserving simplicity in her heart—though not clever enough, she had caused Su Jin considerable trouble. Remembering the kindness of the former Lord Su and considering what kind of person she was, Su Jin was still willing to take her in and arrange a place for her.

Su Wan added: “Please rest assured, my lord. Once this commoner woman has secured a dwelling, she will support herself. Third Brother once sent this commoner woman to a women’s private school. This commoner woman has studied some books over these years and can write now. In the future, helping people mend clothes and write family letters, she can always support herself and Sister-in-law Tan. She won’t trouble my lord.”

Tan Shi saw Shen Xi’s expression seemed surprised, thinking he didn’t believe it. She spoke up for Su Wan: “Lord Shen, this is true. The Lord showed the young lady kindness, yet the young lady once nearly harmed the Lord through a slip of the tongue. She’s always felt guilty in her heart. Later the Lord told her that in all things one should think and learn more, so she requested to go to a private school herself. Even this time, when those people arrested the young lady and imprisoned her, using torture to force a confession, the young lady gritted her teeth and didn’t say a word, not daring to harm the Lord again.”

Only then did Shen Xi’s gaze fall on Su Wan’s hands. He saw her knuckles were covered with scars.

She was at least a family member of the former Minister of Justice—yet the Ministry of Justice prison used torture like this?

Which palace attendant wasn’t skilled at reading expressions and gauging moods?

Ma Zhao glanced at Shen Xi and asked the accompanying jailer in a stern voice: “What’s going on?”