Four or five apples and seven or eight tangerines lay quietly in the bundle.

After Yang Lun left, Deng Ying sat cross-legged on his rush mat. With no water in the cell, he wiped his hands on his prison garment and slowly peeled a tangerine. The tangerines Yang Lun bought were still green, thick-skinned with small segments. Deng Ying put one segment in his mouth, and as the sour juice flowed down his throat into his stomach, he quickly closed his eyes, holding back the acid rising in his mouth.

But he didn’t put it down, still eating one segment at a time, quietly swallowing it all.

Afterward, he picked up an apple and took a bite.

One sour, one sweet, symbolizing a “draw.”

With this bag of fruit, Yang Wan was telling him from outside his deep prison, with characteristic grace, that he hadn’t lost.

Deng Ying placed his apple-holding hand on his knee, slowly chewing the sweet flesh. The pleasure and satisfaction from the food, like Yang Wan herself, brought him peace. For years, he had refused to rely on writing, dared not take shelter in scholarly circles, wouldn’t live in fine rooms or eat rich food, using this to discipline himself, to avoid being corrupted like the Imperial Household Department.

But he was willing to follow Yang Wan, willing to listen to her words, eat things good for his health, sleep wrapped in warm blankets, wear thicker clothes when cold, sit down for a while after standing too long…

She had once been in his quarters, removed his robes, seen with her own eyes his cold and broken body, touched his self-loathed scars, and thereby unraveled his entire life. This broken period of his life that he never wanted to expose to others was held in Yang Wan’s hands. She didn’t try to piece it back together, she let his years remain poor, and his humble room remains cold. She only sheltered his heart which had lost all worldly hope and naturally inserted herself into his daily life.

She seemed to have seen through his life in advance, and could even write out his lifespan and ending in one breath.

But she gave up these grand perspectives, instead focusing only on daily life, writing with composure and deep feeling.

Deng Ying finished the apple in his hand bite by bite, wrapped his ankles in his padded clothes, tucked in his bedding, and lay down on his side.

The candlelight outside the cell occasionally made the sound of sparks popping, and as Deng Ying listened, he gradually grew sleepy. He pulled his hands back under the covers, warmth spreading from his hands and feet throughout his body.

Indeed, listening to her words meant not suffering so much.

The eighth day of the twelfth month, the fourteenth year of Zhenning.

Though it hadn’t snowed, the dry cold wind blew the snow on the ground like sand.

Chen Hua led people from the Firewood Office to deliver charcoal to the Hall of Supreme Harmony, arriving to find palace servants hurriedly sweeping snow.

Dawn hadn’t fully broken, and officials everywhere carried lanterns, the hall’s furnishings flickering in and out of the lamplight.

Lady of Ceremony Jiang Min stood in the doorway, overseeing palace servants setting up new seats behind the imperial throne.

Chen Hua went over and bowed, “Lady Jiang.”

Jiang Min turned around, “Oh, it’s Director Chen.”

She stepped aside, calling into the hall: “Stop for a moment, let the Firewood Office start the charcoal first.”

“Thank you, Lady of Ceremony.”

Chen Hua gestured for the servants behind him to carry in the charcoal.

As the charcoal baskets moved in, the servants inside all stopped their work, retreating to the doorway, leaving only two servants with dusters sweeping dust from the new seats.

Chen Hua looked at the two new seats behind the imperial throne, and couldn’t help asking: “Wasn’t it said… the Second Prince was gravely ill, with Her Majesty the Empress attending day and night, weakening her health too? Why are two seats being set up today?”

Jiang Min said: “The Second Prince’s grave illness is true, but when has Her Majesty the Empress ever been weakened?”

Chen Hua said: “She hasn’t attended a single memorial ceremony since the grand burial.”

Jiang Min coughed once, not answering.

Though officials like Yang Lun didn’t know what happened in the Hall of Supreme Harmony during the Jintai Great Discussion, Jiang Min had seen it all clearly from inside the hall. That day, the Empress Dowager had publicly rebuked the Empress three times, leading to the imperial edict being abolished, He Yixian being beaten on the spot, and the Imperial Household Department being imprisoned for investigation. The Empress dared not argue further, and after losing the support of the Imperial Household Department, had been avoiding public appearance in the palace.

“Lady of Ceremony?”

Chen Hua called to her.

Jiang Min pressed her lips together, saying coldly: “Don’t ask too much.”

Chen Hua rubbed his hands together and said nothing more.

Soon the Firewood Office servants came out to report. Chen Hua responded briefly, turning to bid farewell to Jiang Min when he suddenly heard her say: “Director, wait a moment.”

Chen Hua stopped, somewhat anxiously.

Jiang Min didn’t turn around, still looking into the hall, saying evenly: “Do you know where the Imperial Household Department people are waiting for questioning today?”

Chen Hua glanced up at the Gate of Supreme Harmony, “They should have opened two board houses at the Left and Right Spring Offices for them. At this hour, people should have been taken there already. Lady of Ceremony…”

Chen Hua hesitated for a while, but finally spoke: “You’re still thinking of that ‘old ancestor’?”

Jiang Min didn’t respond.

Chen Hua said: “I won’t remember those false favors anymore, they were all fake.”

Jiang Min said heavily: “That’s you.”

“Not just me.”

Chen Hua suddenly straightened his back, looking directly at Jiang Min, saying seriously: “Lady of Ceremony shouldn’t remember either. All that talk of descendants and grandchildren was nonsense. Once the root is cut, there’s no point thinking about family ties. They deceived those below so bitterly, but when real trouble came, they rushed to throw their sons and grandsons out to die. I see now, from now on I won’t believe them, and I won’t fear them either.”

Jiang Min was silent for a while before saying: “The matter of Li Yu and Yun Qing…”

Chen Hua interrupted: “I don’t understand what exactly happened, and being cowardly, I dare not ask, dare not cry injustice for Li Yu. But I know if it weren’t for the Superintendent and Miss Wan, Yun Qing would now be lying on the ground just like Li Yu.”

After hearing these words, Jiang Min opened her mouth silently, her throat even somewhat choked.

She looked up toward the Gate of Supreme Harmony.

The guard was changing at the gate.

The sky was whitening, the morning sun gradually emerging, its warm light illuminating the snow, making the ground brilliant.

The board house door was opened, and snow light rushed in. Deng Ying had to raise his hand to shield his eyes. A figure timely blocked the doorway, standing backlit, face unclear.

“No need to push him, let him walk on his own.”

The person’s voice wasn’t loud, but the Golden Guard and Bright Armor soldiers outside all followed his words, stepping back.

The person walked into the room, light suddenly retreating from his form. Deng Ying saw his face, supported himself on his knees to stand, raised his hand, and bowed to him.

“Lord Zhang.”

Zhang Luo walked to his front, reached to unfasten the sword at his waist, placed it on the table, and returned a cupped-hand salute. Then he straightened to tie his sword back on, his voice characteristically cold: “Walk.”

Deng Ying obediently walked out of the boarding house. The rising sun was in sight, and Zhang Luo ordered him to stand and wait a moment.

Soon, the door of the boarding house to the side opened, and the Imperial Household Department group was also brought out.

They had all been tortured, some couldn’t walk at all and were dragged by the Imperial Guard’s strongmen, stumbling toward the Golden Water Bridge. He Yixian, old and weak, was almost dragged the whole way, his shackles scraping across the snow, making sharp sounds.

Though Deng Ying also wore prison clothes, his garments were intact, neat, and clean.

Zhang Luo and his men walked three feet away, accommodating his pace, neither shouting nor hurrying.

Deng Ying didn’t look at He Yixian. He raised his head against the dazzling sunlight, looking up at the Hall of Supreme Harmony.

The stone dragon heads under the white jade railings had been wiped very clean, thousands of dragons raising their heads, looking back at their imprisoned builder.

A slight smile couldn’t help appearing on Deng Ying’s face.

At the lowest point of his life, no one had humiliated him. Whether Qi Huaiyang or Zhang Luo, these men who administered Ming’s criminal law all protected his dignity within their power.

The winter cold was boundlessly quiet, yet countless tiny blessings came to him from all directions.

His teacher’s reluctance to part, his close friend’s affection, and his opponent’s respect, all made him genuinely happy.

And of course, there was his Yang Wan…

She wore plain mourning clothes, standing at the bottom of the platform, secretly loosening her hands clasped at her belly, waving gently at him. Only when he came close did she properly compose herself again, smiling as she looked him up and down.

“Did you eat all the apples and tangerines?”

“I did.”

“Deng Ying.”

Zhang Luo’s voice interrupted Deng Ying’s words.

Deng Ying lowered his head and fell silent.

Zhang Luo turned and stepped closer to Yang Wan, saying formally: “No speaking with prisoners outside the hall.”

“Yes. Then may I say a few words to Lord Zhang?”

Zhang Luo froze for a moment, his voice notably dropping three degrees: “Speak.”

Yang Wan stepped back and made a formal feminine bow to Zhang Luo.

“What are you doing?”

Yang Wan straightened up: “Thanking my lord for letting him walk this path on his own.”

Zhang Luo gripped his sword hilt, turning his head to avoid Yang Wan’s gaze: “The Ming Code has a provision for ‘showing mercy to prisoners.’ He shows no sign of resistance, so there’s no need for restraints.”

“Mm.”

Yang Wan nodded: “Yang Wan has learned.”

Zhang Luo said no more, turning to leave.

But then he heard Yang Wan call: “Lord Zhang, do you prefer tangerines or apples?”

Zhang Luo was stunned, turning back: “What are you asking me?”

“I want to give you a gift.”

She spoke frankly: “But I guess if I gave Lord Zhang anything else, you would charge me with ‘bribery,’ so I’ll just buy you fruit to eat.”

Then she repeated: “Do you prefer tangerines or apples?”

Zhang Luo instinctively wanted to refuse her, but though he opened his mouth, the words he meant to say wouldn’t come out for a long time.

“Deng Ying.”

He turned around. Deng Ying was somewhat startled but still responded:

“Here.”

“Do you eat tangerines or apples?”

He inexplicably asked Deng Ying instead.

“Apples.”

“Oh.”

Zhang Luo paused, then said to Yang Wan: “Tangerines.”

Yang Wan nodded: “Alright, I’ll have my brother deliver them to Lord Zhang’s residence tomorrow.”

Just as she finished speaking, the sound of whips came from beneath Golden Water Bridge. Yi Lang’s procession approached, and the Gate of Ultimate Achievement to the west also opened. The ministers of the Grand Secretariat, along with the Chief Minister of the Court of Judicature and Revision, the Censors of the Left and Right, and others straightened their clothes at the gate before crossing and heading toward the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Yang Wan turned to walk toward Yi Lang’s procession, while Zhang Luo and the others knelt in greeting.

Yi Lang ascended the hall and took his seat, sending for the Two Palaces to enter.

Zhang Luo stood up, leaving only Deng Ying and the Imperial Household Department eunuchs kneeling.

Soon after, the Two Palaces also ascended the hall. Qing Meng ran down from the vermillion steps, conveying: “Summon the ministers and the Imperial Household Department to enter the hall.”