Fang Wenxin had no mood left for drinking. He immediately shook his head, “This humble official has urgent matters to attend to and must take his leave. I hope Your Highness will understand.”

*Drinking with courtesans earlier, and now suddenly having urgent matters?* Fengyue thought this excuse was terrible, but Yin Gezhi merely responded with the expected pleasantries, cupping his hands: “Then take care, Sir.”

The guards at the entrance of Menghui House stood awkwardly, wondering if they should still make the arrest, when Xiao Zhenyu waved them away, taking them all with him.

Madam Jin was moved to tears, immediately bowing to Yin Gezhi: “Thank you, young master, thank you! You truly have the merciful heart of a Bodhisattva…”

The “merciful Bodhisattva” Yin Gezhi nodded slightly, shamelessly accepting the praise before saying, “Let’s speak somewhere else.”

Madam Jin nodded, quickly leading him inside. Fengyue followed behind He Chou, walking next to her while saying in a low voice: “Whatever he asks you later, just answer truthfully. Don’t hide anything.”

He Chou paused, giving her a puzzled look, turning the words over in her mind. Finally, she lowered her eyes and agreed.

The group entered He Chou’s room, which was still in complete disarray. The lampstand had fallen over, hairpins were scattered about, and the bedding was half-draped onto the floor. Broken pearls and jade pieces were strewn across half the room, making it difficult to find a place to step.

“Please excuse the mess.” He Chou bowed slightly, tidying up a bit before inviting Yin Gezhi to sit at the table.

Madam Jin turned to clear away the crowd of curious girls, and the door was closed. Yin Gezhi asked directly: “Why did you try to kill him?”

Her body trembled slightly. He Chou wanted to deny it—how did he know she intended to kill someone? But remembering Fengyue’s earlier words, she pressed her lips together, and after a moment’s hesitation said: “I have a grudge.”

“There seem to be quite a few courtesans in Menghui House with grudges.” Picking up the frightfully sharp hairpin from the table, Yin Gezhi touched the tip, drawing blood from his finger.

“Young master!” Fengyue cried out softly, immediately rushing over like an attentive servant to wrap his hand with a handkerchief, face full of concern: “Are you alright?”

Giving her a sidelong glance, Yin Gezhi seemed satisfied enough. He pulled her into his arms, letting her carefully tend to his hand, then looked back up at He Chou.

“This humble one’s grudge… is not something I could resolve on my own.” He Chou lowered her gaze. “He is the mighty Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guards, while I am just a ruined courtesan with no family left.”

“So, where does this grudge come from?” Yin Gezhi asked.

He Chou sighed: “Does the young master know of the imperial grace from a year ago? Soldiers returning from the war were rewarded with a hundred mu of good farmland. A year ago, I was a farmer’s daughter, and our family had good fields. When we heard of the decree, we thought the emperor’s grace was boundless. Who knew that when the time came to divide the land, Commander Fang’s men forcibly claimed all fifty mu of our land under his name, saying it was the emperor’s will and that common people had no right to resist.”

Looking at Yin Gezhi’s impassive expression, she sighed: “Land seizures happen all the time. They’re officials, we’re commoners. If they had only taken half, leaving us enough to make a living, perhaps father would have endured it.”

But they didn’t. Forced to leave the home they’d lived in for over a decade, her father, in a fit of anger, found a litigation master and filed a complaint with the magistrate. But what came wasn’t a court summons—instead, a group of armored beasts appeared, beating her father to death right in front of their family. Her mother took her own life on the spot. She hadn’t reacted, could only cry, didn’t know to run, and was violated in the fields by those beasts. Her eight-year-old brother tried to save her but was thrown far away with a wave of their hand, his head cracking against a rock, blood pooling everywhere.

Those soldiers were He Chou’s lifelong nightmare. In the dead of night when the dreams returned, what she remembered most clearly was their laughter, and the leader’s particularly arrogant words: “Mere commoners dare to accuse Commander Fang? Know your place—better off dead!”

He Chou reached out, smiling bitterly: “Aren’t we just mere commoners? How can we fight against officials? Even if the complaint had reached the top, would the emperor behead a Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guards for one common family? He wouldn’t. So I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“Unfortunately, this worthless one wasn’t capable enough. That hairpin couldn’t pierce his heart and ended up in his hands instead. Though I might escape disaster today, I fear there won’t be any good days ahead.”

Feeling the person in his arms stiffen, Yin Gezhi absently stroked her hair to comfort her, then said: “Since you know there won’t be good days ahead, are you willing to take a bigger risk?”

Slightly startled, He Chou’s expression grew complex: “What does the young master mean?”

“Many high officials in the city have fallen from grace recently,” Yin Gezhi said. “Perhaps if you file another complaint against him, he might receive his just deserts.”

File a complaint? He Chou laughed helplessly: “This one’s family is destroyed, I have no evidence left. What could I use to file a complaint?”

“For filing complaints, is evidence necessary?” Yin Gezhi asked.

“No, it’s not.” Fengyue in his arms seriously chimed in, then smiled sweetly at He Chou: “Your family surely wasn’t the only one whose land was seized, Miss He Chou. If you can find other victims… and even if you can’t, I can arrange some people for you. File a complaint against Fang Wenxin. The court will have to investigate, and once they investigate, evidence will appear. The rest won’t be your concern.”

He Chou was dumbfounded, staring at these two in shock: “This… no evidence… arrange some people?”

“Right, forget about righteousness for now. Let’s get rid of the bad guy first, then we can follow moral principles,” Fengyue grinned mischievously. “This young master is an expert at such things.”

Dissatisfied, he pinched her hand, asking: “So in your heart, I’m just a bad person?”

“Young master, being good is so boring! You get bullied by bad people, get bound by all sorts of rules, can’t take revenge when wronged, can’t kill when you want to—how does that suit your free-spirited nature?” Fengyue turned her head, saying with complete seriousness: “Let’s be bad guys instead!”

Shaking his head, Yin Gezhi sighed, then said to He Chou: “She’s been rather impudent lately, but you should still take her words to heart. Tonight, you’d better come with us to the envoy’s mansion. It would be safest.”

Looking at these two in astonishment, He Chou felt somehow envious, then nodded, gathered some clothes, and followed them.

“Madam Jin!” Fengyue called out as she opened the door: “We have a return customer! A young master here wants to purchase He Chou’s freedom!”

At this shout, all the courtesans turned to look. Madam Jin’s mouth fell open, dropping her melon seeds, and she quickly ran over to calculate: “Freedom is good, freedom is good! Since the young master is a regular customer, I’ll round it down—three hundred taels even.”

Yin Gezhi said quite shamelessly: “If she wants to buy someone’s freedom, naturally she’ll pay.”

Fengyue looked around, wanting to ask who “she” was when a wolf’s paw reached into her sleeve and pulled out three hundred-tael notes.

*What the hell!* Fengyue’s eyes widened. *How shameless can you get?*

Yin Gezhi maintained his poker face—he had no choice, as he was supposed to be a penniless hostage prince.

*But you didn’t have to use my funeral savings!*

When you die, I’ll make you a coffin.

Fengyue: …

In the end, she gave in. She let go, allowing him to take her bank notes and hand them to Madam Jin.

Madam Jin smiled so broadly her eyes disappeared, and quite happily let them take the person away.

Guanzhi drove the carriage worriedly, thinking that if his master kept bringing people to the mansion like this, would the envoy’s residence eventually become another Menghui House?

Such concerns were unnecessary. Yin Gezhi settled He Chou in the guest quarters, then rightfully carried Fengyue back to the main courtyard to rest.

“Your Highness,” Fengyue asked with concern, “Will this complaint be enough to sentence Fang Wenxin to death?”

“No,” Yin Gezhi shook his head.

Her hackles instantly raised, Fengyue’s eyebrows shot up: “If it won’t work, why file the complaint? Let’s just find a way to cut him down directly!”

Giving her a disdainful side-eye, Yin Gezhi stuffed a walnut into her mouth: “Use your brain a little. Land seizure isn’t a capital crime, and his subordinates’ murders can be pinned on scapegoats, but up above a Crown Prince is sharpening his knife.”

Even if the crime wasn’t capital, at this crucial moment when General Yi was about to return, Ye Yuqin definitely wouldn’t let Fang Wenxin live.

Her brow relaxed. Fengyue broke into a grin, contentedly falling into his arms with heartfelt appreciation: “It’s so wonderful having you here.”

At least now, she didn’t have to fight alone.

His heart softened slightly. Yin Gezhi stroked her hair, picked her up, and laid her on the bed: “The doctor said you’re weak. Rest more.”

The lights in the room went out, and the envoy’s mansion returned to silence.

Two days later, at the entrance of the Chief Justice’s office, He Chou, dressed as a farm woman, led over thirty farmers. They all wore white headbands and carried blood-red banners with the character for “injustice,” kneeling in a semicircle.

The scene was truly spectacular, drawing crowds of common folk pointing and asking about the situation. However, after kneeling for two hours, the Chief Justice’s gates remained closed, with only guards coming out to say: “Civil cases should be taken to the Capital Prefecture office.”

He Chou called out loudly: “This commoner’s complaint is against Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guards, fourth-rank official Fang Wenxin. The Capital Prefecture has no authority to handle it. We beg the Chief Justice to consider the people’s plight!”

At these words, the guards were so frightened they rushed back inside. The Chief Justice’s gates remained tightly shut, still refusing to open.

So half an hour later, the Crown Prince “happened to” pass by. Seeing this scene, he became greatly angered, ordered the Chief Justice’s gates broken open, personally took the bench, and inquired about these commoners’ grievances.

“The Crown Prince will make a fine emperor in the future,” Fengyue sighed, drinking medicine while sitting in Yin Gezhi’s embrace. “To right wrongs upon seeing them like this, he’s truly a model prince among all nations.”

The Wei Kingdom’s prince holding her gave a cold laugh.

Startled by the sound, Fengyue quickly turned around: “Though no matter how exemplary, he can’t compare to our Wei Kingdom’s Crown Prince, who can fight enemies above and write calligraphy below, beloved by all the people…”

“Shut up,” Yin Gezhi rebuked.

Fengyue wasn’t intimidated by him at all, smilingly sharing a sip of medicine with him before saying: “This servant loves you the most!”