Night fell, stars sharp and cold overhead, and the desolate, ghost-light lanterns hung dim and flickering at the entrance to the Ministry of Justice’s major-crimes prison, in the seventh year of Daliang.

The four newly appointed Chief Enforcers of Jiu Si Tang — Xie Fengyuan, Pan Bozhuang, Wang Gaoguo, and Ouyang Wuqi — stood motionless at the prison gate.

Not far from them stood the female general sent by the Ministry of War to guard the site, Yuwen Xiaoqiao.

She never spoke to the Jiu Si Tang people on her own initiative. Instead, she held an embroidery hoop, and with a row of female soldiers holding lanterns to give her bright light, she was earnestly working her needle in thick, coarse stitches.

Quite a few people in Yandu knew about the affair between this female general and the fifth son of the Marquis at the city gate — but everyone involved was strange, so strange behavior from them drew little reaction anymore. No one even brought up how improper it was for a woman to be the one pursuing a man; after all, a female general was already unconventional enough on her own.

His Majesty himself had put it well: Yuwen Xiaoqiao would have to marry eventually, wouldn’t she? And Hu Yougui would have to take a wife eventually too, wouldn’t he?

When there was no one left to conquer the realm with, they’d let a woman go to the battlefield, letting her grow into a rough, manly temperament, getting her head broken and bleeding for it — and only then come to lecture her about propriety? Where was that concern earlier?

Yuwen Xiaoqiao understood none of the worldly rules governing men or women. She was of foreign origin to begin with; to use your own rules to dictate someone else’s was rather shameless and unreasonable.

Since that was the attitude from those above, no one below dared to complain.

And so, while Yuwen Xiaoqiao embroidered, the several new Chief Enforcers of Jiu Si Tang stood at a distance, uneasy in their hearts, but seeing everyone else accepted it, said nothing and asked nothing.

These four new Chief Enforcers of Jiu Si Tang had all been personally invited and personally promoted by Meng Dichen, the Chief Commander of Jiu Si Tang.

They had only just taken up their posts a few days ago, arriving in the capital one after the other along with Gu Hongyun.

The people Meng Dichen used for the first time were all jointly recommended by several Dharma Protectors of the Southern Huguo Temple.

Back then, Yang Zao had just ascended the throne and did not yet know how to be an emperor — he had to learn.

Meng Dichen, a monk who had returned to secular life, went from caring for a single Second Prince to shouldering heavy responsibilities all at once. He too was learning, but limited by his talents, all he had was loyalty; he could not handle new matters, and so he stumbled at every turn.

Moreover, blind loyalty was never something people liked, and he was, on top of that, a fanatic.

His circumstances constrained how Meng Dichen conducted himself and his affairs. Yet the Southern Huguo Temple, too, had no one else to use — everything had happened by accident. Yang Zao’s family originally came from a minor noble household under a Grand Marshal, and fate, piling pressure upon pressure, had gradually pushed him toward the throne, while Meng Dichen the monk had been assigned to look after the Second Prince — at the time, the Southern Huguo Temple had simply sent him off as an ordinary religious guide for a lesser son.

The final result was that once Yang Zao ascended the throne, Meng Dichen too received the emperor and princes’ regard — which had nothing to do with whether he had political talent, and everything to do with the rise of the Southern Huguo Temple.

And so, back then the Southern Huguo Temple had been forced to send Xie Wuhao and others to assist him. The two sides had no deep friendship to speak of, and private suspicions never ceased between them; Meng Dichen’s surface warmth, guardedness, and lack of real regard for them were only natural.

This was why Xie Wuhao was able to sacrifice himself for the sake of the state and preserve what little face the Southern faction had left — while Meng Dichen remained oblivious and numb to it, not even bothering to keep up appearances, and instead feared that the court would come to value Xie Liuhao because of Xie Wuhao’s achievements, suppressing him all the more for it.

Such conduct was hard to think well of.

What would it have cost to grant Xie Liuhao a high office and generous pay? It was the court’s business after all, the court’s silver, not his own — why not do it? And yet he simply refused to.

This left both sides caught in an extremely passive position.

His Majesty was troubled, the Southern Huguo Temple was put in a difficult spot, and yet Meng Dichen still felt he’d been wronged, insisting he too had rendered service to the state.

In the end, the four Chief Enforcers originally sent by the Southern Huguo Temple all drifted away from Meng Dichen’s side — two died in service to the country, and two, utterly disheartened, went off to seek a new path in life.

The Southern Huguo Temple had no choice but to accept it, and Meng Dichen, too, was gradually breaking free of its former hold over him. He had grown, and in growing, had also gathered more power to himself.

This time he had put in great effort to find new assistant Enforcers. Jiu Si Tang’s performance these past years had been mediocre at best, and just as internal opinion was beginning to align, along came Gu Hongyun of the Northern Huguo Temple faction.

This was simply how it went — as the sovereign grew, his control over power grew ever more assured, while Meng Dichen felt this to be a kind of betrayal.

No one cared to know what Meng Dichen thought; it had never mattered. Whether he liked it or not, he would have to accept this man and the old faction he represented appearing at his side.

And so, it was only natural that today, on Gu Hongyun’s first watch at the Ministry of Justice prison, the four new Chief Enforcers, acting on hints from Meng Dichen, had come to make trouble for him.

But while Gu Hongyun understood this, Huo Qiqian did not.

When Gu Hongyun arrived, it was just the first quarter after sunset. He had come, but the other side would not hand over their post to him, and so the two sides were at a standoff.

The journey here had not been easy for him either — leading his subordinates out of the mansion, they had been ambushed by various hidden forces along the way. The other side hadn’t attacked outright, only sought ways to delay his progress.

Gu Hongyun had fought his way through with wit and effort the entire way, finally arriving at his destination just in time.

What he did not know was that had Qiqian’er not been selling knives at the market entrance, he might not have arrived on time at all.

Being refused the handover posed no real difficulty for Gu Hongyun. Having received a proper, orthodox official education, he could see that the other side meant to give him a hard time as a newcomer. Gu Hongyun simply stood at the handover line and shouted three times:

“Deputy Chief Enforcer of Jiu Si Tang, Gu Hongyun, here to take up the post! Deputy Chief Enforcer of Jiu Si Tang, Gu Hongyun, here to take up the post! Deputy Chief Enforcer of Jiu Si Tang, Gu Hongyun, here to take up the post!”

The other side merely sneered coldly at him, faces full of contempt, neither handing over the post nor passing the token, nor saying a word.

The implication, roughly, was: You want the token? Come and take it, if you’re able.

Gu Hongyun said nothing, glancing instead at the five prison magistrates from the Ministry of Justice who had been notified in advance, and the six wardens, and gave a small laugh.

He simply stood still as well, adopting the posture of one waiting for the token to be handed over, the very picture of sincerity.

He had thought Meng Dichen clever, but the man still revealed his petty, small-minded nature at every turn — the people he used had nothing but reputation in the martial world and no understanding whatsoever of official protocol; fools, all of them.

He’d arrived on time to take over the watch; if the other side wouldn’t hand it over, then let them stand there.

As for himself, he had more than enough witnesses to prove he hadn’t neglected his duty — he had done everything required of him.

As for Meng Dichen’s hint that the four Chief Enforcers might gang up to break his composure — that idea could be forgotten entirely.

That would be far too reckless. How could personal grudges and factional disputes be allowed to spill onto official duty in full view of everyone?

From the moment he took this post, he understood His Majesty’s intent: Jiu Si Tang existed to serve the emperor and the court as a check, a subordinate office to manage those from the martial world — a proper bureaucratic office of the court, not some martial-world hall.

He had come now to take over the watch; if the other side wouldn’t hand it over, no matter. Per regulation, there were six patrols per two-hour period — his subordinates would go out and do them.

Per regulation, sentries were posted around the prison’s perimeter. Whether or not they’d been suffering through a full day and night already made no difference — if you won’t hand it over, my subordinates can’t take their place, so everyone can just keep suffering.

In any case, once something went wrong and superiors came to assign blame, whoever was on duty bore responsibility. If you said I’d been on duty a full day and night already, well, I wasn’t the one who failed to show — you simply went mad and refused to hand it to me for no good reason, so I’m sorry, but that’s on you.

The fools apparently didn’t understand this — the officials from the Ministry of Justice, the Ministry of War, even the Court of Judicial Review, none of them would overstep their own offices to lecture you; they were all standing off to the side, watching the show.

The two sides remained locked in this standoff.

Meanwhile, Qiqian’er, a bolt of cloth tucked under her arm, was strolling along leading her horse, passing by the market entrance. She spotted some hot oil cakes, bought two before the curfew, and ate as she walked, making her way toward the Ministry of Justice prison.

She, too, knew nothing of proper protocol.

She walked up to the prison gate and saw two groups of people standing there in silent confrontation, as if being punished.

She couldn’t tell there was any hidden tension here. A quick-witted clerk came over to take her horse, but she — worried he might steal her family’s fine horse — insisted on following him to the stable, and only nodded once she saw the horse placed in the very best stall.

The clerk was so frightened he thought this lady had somehow found out he usually skimmed a bit off the horse feed for himself.

So he opened the sack of fine feed and, right in front of Qiqian’er, poured half the bag straight into the trough.

Qiqian’er glanced sideways at him. “Hmph!”

Inside, the clerk felt as though eight carriages were racing through his heart, and, flustered and uneasy, he bowed deeply. “This lowly one will lead the way for milady.”

I’m just a lowly little official — I only took a bit of feed home to help support my family. Must you, a Marquis of the city gate, threaten me like this?

Well, fine — from now on, this lowly one would never dare again.

Since someone was offering to lead the way, that suited her fine. Qiqian’er said flatly, “Mm.”

Poor clerk — from this day on, he would be an honest official indeed.

The two of them entered the outer courtyard of the Ministry of Justice prison again, and the two groups were still standing there, “being punished.”

Qiqian’er thought to herself, being on duty really wasn’t easy — how long would they have to stand like that? Whether high or low, eating off the imperial court’s rice bowl was no easy meal.

Seeing Qiqian’er approach, the officials from the various offices all rose and bowed to her.

Chen Dasheng and the others held the title of Marquis of the City Gate — nominal marquises, but marquises nonetheless. Otherwise, standing at the south gate all day, the place where the court’s high officials passed through for morning audience, would they have to bow every single time the old lords came through?

Hence the custom arose that those wearing the xiezhi mask need not bow to anyone — a mark of the court’s respect for those who had rendered meritorious service.

And so, as Qiqian’er made her way along, people nodded slightly to her in greeting, or bowed, and she simply gave a flat “Ah” in response, and no one thought anything of it.

Even the superior-ranked old lords at court didn’t mind — who were these people to mind, then?

By the time she reached the prison gate, it was already the final quarter before sunset had fully passed. The Enforcers, having stood there so long, sensed they’d been strung along, and just as irritation was rising in them, one glance up brought them face to face with the person their Chief Commander called one of the most detestable people in the realm.

Wasn’t this one of those gatekeepers from the south gate?

Qiqian’er’s hands were greasy from the oil cakes, and worried about staining her new silk cloth, she looked around and happened to spot Shangguan Xiaoqiao.

She recognized this woman — the one who often came to quietly stand by the wall of her family’s courtyard, watching… observing?

She was also one of only two people Qiqian’er knew here, and being fellow women, Qiqian’er walked over to her first — startling Shangguan Xiaoqiao so badly that she abandoned her embroidery hoop, covered in blood-red plum blossoms, and stood up in flattered astonishment.

Was this… her future brother-in-law?

Last time we met, wasn’t he not this… low?

Just as she was puzzling over this, she saw her future brother-in-law notice her embroidery work, and give a disdainful sideways “Hmph!”

Even the gold-leaf work A’Nai bought was better than this.

In that instant of mutual understanding, Shangguan Xiaoqiao, mortified, sighed and flung the thing aside.

That approach was a dead end too, then.

Qiqian’er shook her head slightly, then looked over Shangguan Xiaoqiao’s figure, and felt somewhat reassured in her heart — with Old Fifth in the family having no prospects at all, this wasn’t being picky; someone like this would do just fine.

It was just a shame Old Fifth had absolutely no desire to marry at all, and a pity too that this woman, undeterred, kept following him around regardless — who knew when this would ever come to an end.

She positioned her armpit over the little table and handed the silk cloth over to Shangguan Xiaoqiao.

Things were best left with someone she knew, after all.

As if by some strange understanding, Shangguan Xiaoqiao got it at once.

She clasped her hands into fists and said, “I— ahem, rest assured, I will absolutely watch over it. As long as I’m here, the cloth is safe.”

Always so much to say, but since she seemed to understand, Qiqian’er nodded and turned to walk into the prison.

But just as she reached the gate, right where the standoff was at its most tense, the four Enforcers, looking for a way to save face, had one of them — the one called Pan Bozhuang — reach out an arm to block Qiqian’er’s path, his face full of contempt as he said, “Oh? Where are you off to? I say, Marquis of the City Gate, we may all carry our own duties, but the proper procedures still need to be followed. What, do you look down on us brothers here?”

This was pinning a false accusation out of nowhere — why provoke the Marquis of the City Gate for no reason? They weren’t even from the same office.

Losing face silently, Gu Hongyun didn’t rise to the bait, which left the group flushed red with frustration, and they began lashing out.

But Qiqian’er didn’t understand what any of this meant. She simply looked up at him, then glanced around, watching everyone’s eyes turn toward the token hanging at her waist.

Oh, right, right — this was about status. She had status.

And so she reached down and handed the token at her waist over to Pan Bozhuang.

To the officials from the other offices watching, this Marquis of the City Gate seemed rather decent — even though their ranks weren’t equal, when it came to proper procedure, she handed it over the moment it was asked for, without a single word of complaint, remarkably cooperative.

Besides, she’d come here in the dead of night — surely on some important matter entrusted to her by the Prince. Was this man a fool?

This whole affair had implicated countless people, and throughout all of Daliang, only Old Blade was known to handle things strictly by the book, never bending the law for personal favor.

She was the Prince Fuirui’s person — anyone else might come to cause trouble, but not her.

What exactly was Jiu Si Tang trying to accomplish here?

Nothing in particular, really — it was just that Pan Bozhuang, having been strung along by Gu Hongyun, wanted to find a way to save face, to show he wasn’t so easy to provoke.

He looked at this Marquis of the City Gate — small, slight, seemingly no strength to speak of. He’d heard before that Old Blade, whenever they struck, always fought as one against a hundred, taking on even a single opponent as though facing a whole army — so, this must be an Old Blade indeed.

But just as Old Blade looked down on the impractical routines of the martial world, so too did the martial world look down on the crude, unrefined brawling of army camps.

Qiqian’er politely handed over her token. Pan Bozhuang, who bore the nickname “Thousand-Handed Buddha,” and just as the token was about to fall into his hand, everyone heard him say, “Oh?”

The token representing the Marquis of the City Gate dropped toward the ground.

Pan Bozhuang meant only to wait for the token to hit the ground, then laugh and pick it up, dust it off in front of everyone, and magnanimously say something like, little brother, better hold on tight to your rice bowl.

That way, he would have won.

Don’t ask why this man thought this way, or what exactly he thought he’d be winning.

This world was never short of people who made no sense at all.

At Pan Bozhuang’s “Oh?” everyone turned to look — only to see Old Blade holding the token in hand, frozen, while Pan Bozhuang stared at her in open astonishment.

It had all happened in an instant. Qiqian’er, naturally, hadn’t even registered that she’d been made a fool of — she simply tipped the token back into her hand with the tip of her foot, and prepared to hand it over again.

Pan Bozhuang blinked, then suddenly laughed. “Now that’s interesting.”

He reached out again, Qiqian’er handed it over again, and he pulled his hand back and forward again, another “Oh?”

This time, everyone present understood clearly what was happening, and their hearts filled with disgust the moment they realized it.

But before anyone could speak up to stop it, the token was already flicked back into Qiqian’er’s hand by the tip of her foot once more.

This was her husband’s rice-bowl token — the very identity her husband had earned with a body that didn’t have a single patch of unbroken flesh left on it. What did this man mean by this? Looking down on her husband?

Then he deserved to die.

Pan Bozhuang, unaware Qiqian’er had already grown angry, laughed even more flippantly. “Heh, just a little joke, please don’t take offense, Lord of the City Gate. I’ll register you now — if you’d be so kind as to hand over the token again~”

Qiqian’er suppressed her anger and handed the token over, thinking to herself: could it be Choutou wants me to see what his duty post used to be like? Fine, I understand now — you all really have it rough, don’t you?

Well then, I’ll be sure to be extra good to them when I get home.

Just as her hand extended with the token again, she heard Pan Bozhuang give another flippant, “Oh, dear~ missed it again…”

But before he even finished speaking, this was no longer about the token at all. Pan Bozhuang suddenly felt a rush of wind past both ears, and by the time he came to his senses, his body was already hanging on the hook of the ghost-light lantern in front of the stone bìàn statue’s face.

In that instant of shock, all anyone in the crowd could think was, how fast!

Pan Bozhuang’s face twisted, struggling to get down, and even as he struggled, his mouth kept running, cursing, “How dare a lowly rat like you—”

Then came a loud clang! — his head had been driven straight into the carved brick face of the bìàn statue, and he lost consciousness on the spot.

Whatever Qiqian’er may have been thinking, she hadn’t done anything wrong here — how dare anyone so casually insult the dignity of the Son of Heaven’s official gate.

In the silence all around, everyone in shock, that small, slight Old Blade let out a disdainful, “Tsk~!”

It’s over — Jiu Si Tang has clashed with the Long Blade sect?

Was Meng Dichen a fool? What kind of people was he using?

Never in a thousand years would they have guessed that the rarely-active Marquis of the City Gate had such skill — no wonder she was so trusted by the sovereign; only Old Blade dared stand right beside the emperor’s bed.

Qiqian’er’s feet touched the ground, anger still simmering in her heart. She looked around, planning to find a rope to string this token up properly, then hang it around this fellow’s neck — this time, she wouldn’t let him spout any more nonsense to slander her.

Everyone else, however, assumed the lady was furious and about to grab a weapon to really tear the place apart.

Just as the tension peaked, Gu Hongyun suddenly spoke up: “Lord of the City Gate, this lowly official Gu Hongyun is the newly appointed Deputy Chief Enforcer of Jiu Si Tang. Might I take your token instead?”

He walked over, bent at the waist, both hands raised high above his head.

One of his subordinates let out a choked, “Uncle-Master?”

Gu Hongyun stood perfectly still, his manner devout and sincere — after his subordinate had caused trouble, he was stepping forward to take full responsibility himself. There was nothing wrong with what he was doing, but he had no way of knowing what this Old Blade might think — would she give him this way out, or not?

Then again, why should the internal grudges within Jiu Si Tang be allowed to spill over and implicate outsiders in official duty?

No one spoke. Only Shangguan Xiaoqiao stood up and walked quietly to stand behind Qiqian’er, the two women now facing Jiu Si Tang side by side.

No matter how big a scene this turned into today, she, Shangguan Xiaoqiao, was taking it on!

Qiqian’er, of course, had no idea any of this was happening — she simply looked at Gu Hongyun and thought, oh? I know him. Someone familiar.

You want it? Then here, take it.

She handed the token over to Gu Hongyun’s hands without any fuss at all.

Gu Hongyun’s heart, which had been weighed down with worry, felt lighter the instant his hand closed around the token. He closed his eyes briefly and thought to himself, no wonder — truly one of that Empress’s own people. This debt of gratitude, the Twelve Gates of the Northern faction, the Northern Huguo Temple, will remember it!

Token secured, Gu Hongyun naturally stepped aside and invited Qiqian’er into the Ministry of Justice prison, saying, “This way please, my lady. Allow me to register you.”

The Thousand-Handed Buddha still hung from the hook overhead, as the Northern faction people swarmed in and pushed the old faction aside, naturally taking over the post — even the tokens on their bodies were quietly stripped away in the silent exchange of hands.

Qiqian’er glanced curiously at the quiet maneuvering off to the side, but what did any of that have to do with her?

She only gave a slight sideways glance and another “Tsk!”

With that, she clasped her hands behind her back and followed Gu Hongyun inside. Once the register was filled out, Gu Hongyun once again held the token up with both hands and presented it to Qiqian’er, saying, “My apologies for the trouble you witnessed.”

What could Qiqian’er say to that? All she managed was a “Hmph!”

With that, she passed through gate after gate, walking step by step deeper toward the cells holding the most serious offenders.

In this world, those with privilege were never blocked by such doors.

Chen Dasheng had told her to come, so she’d come. Once inside, she went through whatever door she saw, descended whatever steps appeared before her, walking on and on, until at last she arrived before the cell holding the former Minister of Rites, Zheng Xingyun, kept in solitary confinement.

Like a third circle of hell, Zheng Xingyun’s cell never saw daylight. He no longer knew what hour it was; having been imprisoned so long with no one to interrogate him, he had gone half mad.

Suffering on and on, he at last heard a set of footsteps — neither too heavy nor too loud — slowly approaching his cell.

Qiqian’er, curious the whole way, had finally laid eyes on an actual prisoner.

This man wore prison garb, weighed down with two sets of shackles, filthy — and the moment he saw her, his face twisted with hostility.

So this was what a major criminal looked like?

Before Qiqian’er even finished her private musing, Zheng Xingyun suddenly lunged forward, gripping the iron bars and cursing furiously:

“Good dog! Have you come to kill this old man? Go back and tell that ungrateful bastard-born wretch — this world has always belonged to one who rules it alone, never to one who merely governs it in someone else’s stead! If not for the Zheng clan’s wholehearted support, if not for the women of my Zheng family painstakingly educating others, how could he have achieved what he has today…! No — was it not just some worthless scraps of land? Could it be that my Zheng family’s decades of service to the throne have all been for nothing…!”