As the midday sun hung high over Bridge Square, Deputy Commander Lu Ting’s residence stood silent. In his study, Zhou Jingwan stood before the writing desk, her brush hovering over the paper. Usually, she would practice calligraphy before her afternoon rest, but today her mind wandered, her strokes lacking their usual vitality. She had unknowingly soaked through a stack of fine Xuan paper with ink.
Suddenly, her maid rushed in. Zhou Jingwan looked up eagerly, “Well?”
“My lady, the master says he’s busy at the Palace Command and asks you to retire early. He’ll be back late,” the maid reported.
Zhou Jingwan paused, then abruptly set down her brush. Without a word, she strode out of the study.
“My lady, where are you going?” the maid called, hurrying after her as she headed for the main gate.
“If he won’t come home, I’ll go to the Palace Command to find him,” Zhou Jingwan replied, her voice soft but determined.
“My lady…” the maid tugged at her sleeve, hesitating before continuing, “You shouldn’t go. The master… he’s ordered you to stay home these few days.”
“What do you mean?” Zhou Jingwan stiffened.
The maid reluctantly explained, “I just returned from the Palace Command. The master has posted guards outside. We’re not allowed to leave…”
“He’s confining me?” Zhou Jingwan asked incredulously.
The maid fell silent, unable to respond.
Late that night, Lu Ting returned home. Seeing the dark house, he sighed in relief and entered quietly. As he stepped into the inner chamber, a match suddenly flared on the divan.
Zhou Jingwan sat there, watching him silently as she lit a lamp.
After a long pause, he awkwardly greeted her, “Ah Wan.”
She didn’t respond.
Uncertain whether to advance or retreat, he asked, “Why aren’t you asleep?”
Seeing he wouldn’t volunteer information, Zhou Jingwan cut to the chase: “Did you arrest Uncle Ming?”
Lu Ting remained silent for a moment before sitting on the other end of the divan. “Ah Wan, I lead the Palace Command. I was following orders.”
“If you were just following orders, why avoid me? What’s going on? Why so sudden? Did you know about this beforehand?” she pressed, eyes reddening.
Lu Ting opened his mouth but couldn’t answer.
Zhou Jingwan stood abruptly. Lu Ting rose as well.
“Don’t come near me. Get out!” she cried.
“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Lu Ting asked helplessly.
“I don’t care!”
Lu Ting wanted to explain but couldn’t find the words. He silently withdrew from the room.
Outside, the night sky was overcast, the moon hidden behind clouds. Lu Ting stood with his hands behind his back, lost in thought. Normally so gentle and quiet, this was the first time he’d heard Ah Wan raise her voice in anger since he’d known her. The Princess Consort meant more to her than he’d realized.
Meanwhile, at the Residence of the Duke of Ping, Bai Minmin pestered Zhang Huaiyu for details. But Zhang Huaiyu, uninvolved in court affairs, claimed ignorance.
Seeing Bai Minmin’s frustration, he dared to complain: “Though I’m friends with Lu Ting, it’s not appropriate to pry into state matters. We’re imperial in-laws – it wouldn’t be right to inquire about treason cases. Your anger won’t change anything. If the Marquis of Jing’an is innocent, the Court of Justice will surely clear his name.”
Innocence! How could they prove innocence when incriminating letters had been found? Bai Minmin refused to speak to him further.
She had returned to her father’s residence to ask, but he knew nothing either, insisting Ming Tingyuan would never commit such acts.
Her father paced anxiously, suddenly deciding to petition the Emperor. His advisor, Mr. Zhou, quickly talked him out of it.
Treason was a grave crime. If proven true, the Marquis’s in-laws should distance themselves from the accused, not rush to get involved. Besides, petitioning wouldn’t help – the case required a thorough investigation, not a few words to prove guilt or innocence. With a son-in-law as capable as the Prince of Dingbei, who had yet to return to the capital, nothing was certain.
Mr. Zhou’s reasoning made sense. Bai Minmin found no counter-argument.
The Prince of Dingbei’s residence was now under strict guard. No one could leave or enter. For now, they could only wait for the Prince’s response.
Three days passed with no word from Jiang Xu abroad, nor progress from the Court of Justice. The one bit of good news was that Lu Ting had arranged a separate cell for the pregnant Lady Pei, wife of the Marquis of Jing’an.
Ming Tan hadn’t been idle these three days. Though the residence was surrounded, they still received fresh produce deliveries and nightly waste removal. She used these opportunities to exchange messages with Bai Minmin, learning some outside news.
These messages weren’t easy to pass. If discovered, it would only worsen their situation. Fortunately, Ming Tan’s love of obscure texts came in handy. She and Bai Minmin had previously experimented with an old method: “Write with alum water, let dry. Pour decoction of Wu Zi over it, and black characters will appear.”
The papers appeared blank, requiring special treatment to reveal the hidden writing.
On the fourth day, as Ming Tan patiently waited for the characters to appear after applying the Wu Zi decoction, she saw unfamiliar handwriting: “The Prince of Dingbei has secretly returned to the capital, hiding in Bieyu Tower. He will mobilize troops to march north within three days at most.”
This wasn’t from Bai Minmin.
Ming Tan’s mind raced. Who could have written this? Was it true? What was their purpose? How had they intercepted the message and discovered their communication method?
As she pondered, she noticed something else – the paper. It was mid-grade Xianyun paper, not the fine Baowu paper Bai Minmin usually used.
Xianyun paper’s raw materials came from Ling Province. After Ling’s calamity, supply issues made it unprofitable to produce. With better alternatives available, paper mills in the capital had stopped making it this year.
If she recalled correctly, the Prince of Dingbei’s residence had acquired the last batch of Xianyun paper before production ceased, as they regularly supplied it to their servants.
Realizing this, Ming Tan calmly ordered, “Suxin, Lüe, quickly investigate everyone in the household who could have accessed this letter today.”
“Yes, my lady.”
As experienced senior maids, Suxin and Lüe efficiently investigated the household staff. Soon, they brought Old Woman Wang from the menial servants’ quarters to the reception hall of Qi’an Palace.
Old Woman Wang had graying hair and an honest face, looking like an ordinary servant used to hard work. She had served in the residence for over a decade, quietly doing whatever odd jobs needed doing. She had never handled important tasks or caused trouble, remaining a lowly third-rank servant all these years.
When Suxin and Lüe questioned her, she acted suspiciously evasive. After some pressure, she cracked, now kneeling before Ming Tan and confessing everything.
She claimed to be a spy planted by the Empress Dowager years ago. She had never been exposed because she had never acted before. Used to an honest life, she panicked when suddenly asked to carry out a task. That’s why she became flustered when questioned.
Having confessed, she kept kowtowing and begging for mercy, seeming like a cowardly person who only wanted to live.
Ming Tan regarded her coolly, calmly stirring her tea. After a long moment, she spoke evenly: “Going to such lengths to expose yourself – do you no longer wish to live? The Empress Dowager certainly has a talent for cultivating people. Patience, sacrifice, loyalty – you’ve done well.”
At these words, Old Woman Wang stopped kowtowing. After a pause, she looked up at Ming Tan, her timid demeanor gone: “The Princess Consort has keen insight.”
Suxin and Lüe quickly moved to protect Ming Tan.
Ming Tan waved them back. She had taken precautions, not allowing Yunyier to guard the hall during questioning. The woman had been brought in with hands and feet bound and forced to drink a potion to weaken her muscles. Incense burning in the hall further sapped one’s strength. She, Suxin, and Lüe had all taken preventive medicine.
Given the woman’s ill intent, Ming Tan wouldn’t have dared to see her without these thorough preparations.
“Someone who could stay hidden for over a decade wouldn’t easily betray their master to save their own life,” Ming Tan observed. “You remained a lowly servant because promotions require extensive background checks – you couldn’t risk exposure. And that handwriting – quite skilled.”
It’s said that handwriting reveals character. Her writing alone showed she couldn’t be an ordinary servant who had lain dormant for years, content with a quiet life.
“Tell me, what message does the Empress Dowager want to convey?” Ming Tan asked.
“This old servant has written everything in the letter,” Old Woman Wang replied calmly, still kneeling properly.
“Why should I believe you? And even if the Prince has returned, does the Empress Dowager think I’d resent him for not saving my father?”
“Treason is serious. Not saving someone is one thing, but what if it’s a frame-up?” Old Woman Wang looked up at Ming Tan.
Ming Tan paused, then quickly covered her reaction, maintaining a calm facade.
Old Woman Wang continued, “Why does the Princess Consort think the Prince married you? Out of fondness? Imperial decree? Or perhaps, as you believe, to repay a debt of gratitude?”
Ming Tan suddenly looked up.
Old Woman Wang smiled, “The Princess is truly naive. What kind of man is the Prince of Dingbei? Your unintentional favor was a mere coincidence. Is that enough for the powerful Prince to offer you the position of Princess Consort? It’s because… you have a father whose military success threatens the throne, yet who doesn’t understand when to relinquish power. But ‘misfortune doesn’t befall a married daughter’ – I suppose your little favor might be enough to spare the Marquis of Jing’an’s household from being executed to the ninth degree of kinship.”
“Go on,” Ming Tan prompted.
“The Empress Dowager doesn’t have long to live. They say a dying person’s words are kind. She simply can’t bear to see the Princess Consort used and kept in the dark, only to forgive her enemies when her family is destroyed and property confiscated,” Old Woman Wang paused. “Of course, if the Princess believes the Empress Dowager is trying to sow discord between you and your husband, that’s fine too. After all, the Empress Dowager, the Emperor, and the Prince of Dingbei have been lifelong enemies. Naturally, she wouldn’t want to see them prosper.”
Ming Tan remained silent.
Old Woman Wang continued, “I imagine an edict has already been issued outside the residence. It might read something like this: ‘Upon investigation, the Marquis of Jing’an has been found guilty of colluding with the Northern He and leaking military intelligence. He is to be immediately stripped of property and executed. As the Northern He threatens the Yangxi border and causes unrest, the Prince of Dingbei is appointed Commander-in-Chief of the northern expedition. In three days, he will lead troops to attack the Northern He.'”
Ming Tan said nothing for a long while. Finally, she ordered, “Take her away and guard her closely.”
Lüe curtsied and signaled the strong female servants waiting outside to remove the woman.
After sitting silently for some time, Ming Tan instructed Suxin, “By any means necessary, I need to know if an edict has been issued regarding my father’s investigation and punishment.”
Though she hadn’t deliberately cultivated connections since marrying into the Prince’s household, she still had ways to gather information from outside.
An hour later, Suxin returned.
She was deathly pale. Upon seeing Ming Tan, she said nothing, simply falling to her knees with a thud.