In the third month of the first year of Jinghe.

The Ming dynasty’s cabinet transformed. Bai Huan retired to recuperate, and his son Bai Yuyang was promoted to Chief Grand Secretary. Yang took charge of the Ministry of Revenue, naturally becoming the Deputy Grand Secretary. Meanwhile, the inner court reorganized the Ceremonial Office, with Deng Ying appointed as its Chief Eunuch while retaining his position as Superintendent of the Eastern Depot, thus overseeing both inner court offices.

Deng Ying became extremely busy, with his sleep gradually diminishing.

Yang Wan prepared medicinal foot baths for him, during which Deng Ying often fell asleep leaning against the bed frame.

He slept peacefully, maintaining proper posture. Even with just a wooden beam for support, he never slouched, though his brows would furrow slightly. Sometimes Yang Wan couldn’t resist reaching out to smooth the creases between his eyebrows, and he would smile at her upon waking.

By Yang Wan’s bedside, he was simply a man in plain clothes.

But at court, he wore official robes, caught in the vortex of politics.

As March drew to a close.

The city’s flowers bloomed and withered, but the Donglin School’s anti-eunuch voices grew increasingly loud, gradually aligning with the Imperial Censors of the Censorate. The Qingbo House was implicated as a result. The revised “Orthodox Understanding of Poetry Rules” that Zhou Muyi and others had compiled had barely been printed and distributed when angry Donglin scholars gathered the copies and burned them all at Qingbo House’s entrance.

When Yang Wan returned and stepped down from her carriage, she saw Song Yunqing alone sweeping paper ashes at the entrance.

The shopkeeper and clerks stood at the doorway, wanting to help but not daring to speak.

Yang Wan asked a clerk to take her things while she walked to Song Yunqing’s side, bending to pick up an unburnt page.

Song Yunqing straightened up, looking down at Yang Wan: “I feared it would sadden you, so I wanted to sweep it away before you returned, but you still saw it.”

Yang Wan put down the paper and stood, dusting off her hands.

“I bought some nuts on my way back, you and sister can help me shell them later.”

Seeing her change the subject, Song Yunqing couldn’t help saying: “You don’t mind?”

Yang Wan smiled slightly: “Actually, it pains me deeply.”

Song Yunqing said: “Indeed, what fault could there be in books under scholars’ hands?”

Yang Wan couldn’t help but laugh at this.

Song Yunqing turned her head: “What are you laughing at?”

Yang Wan repeated her words, “‘What fault could there be in books under scholars’ hands?’ This statement doesn’t bear close examination.”

Song Yunqing tilted her head back and sighed, “Only you could still laugh at a time like this.”

Yang Wan held back her smile, watching the clerks moving things while asking: “When did they come to burn the books?”

“Early this morning, right after you left, they arrived.”

“Did they say anything?”

“Better not ask what they said – what good words could they have for you and the Superintendent? Fortunately, the Imperial Guards came later and dispersed them.”

Yang Wan didn’t ask further, taking the broom from Song Yunqing’s hand, “Watch them move the things, I’ll sweep.”

Song Yunqing nodded and went inside with the clerks.

Only then did Yang Wan crouch down with the broom, quietly looking at the pile of ashes.

She couldn’t bring herself to use the broom, instead gathering the ashes with her hands.

The grit on the ground scraped her skin, causing some pain.

“Do you need me to send people to guard this place?”

A familiar cold voice came from behind.

Yang Wan’s hands froze, but she didn’t look up.

“No need, Lord Zhang.”

Zhang Luo crouched down, setting aside his sword: “What books were burned?”

“‘Orthodox Understanding of Poetry Rules,’ compiled by some students from Chushan Academy.”

Zhang Luo looked down at the paper ashes: “When did you learn to print books?”

Yang Wan looked up with a smile, “Publishing books was what I wanted to do most.”

When a woman said she wanted to work in book publishing, he instinctively wanted to criticize her presumption, but he held back, instead asking: “Why?”

Yang Wan smiled somewhat helplessly, “Because my writings were unorthodox and could never be published. Now I can make my judgments and publish books I think are good, but sadly they end up burned like this.”

Zhang Luo said: “You’re upset.”

Yang Wan nodded, lowering her eyelids, her voice somewhat tired, “Yes. Scholars burn books for partisan reasons, while those who treasure words don’t even have the right to author them. I won’t accept it. No matter how they treat me, I’ll keep Qingbo House running.”

These words exposed the raw skin of the capital’s literary world, but because the one exposing it was too weak, there was no bloody pain – observers instead felt disgust and pity for the one doing the exposing.

Zhang Luo fell silent, and Yang Wan didn’t speak either, lowering her head to continue gathering the book ashes, casually asking: “By the way, did you eat the tangerines my brother sent you?”

“No.”

Hearing this, Yang Wan couldn’t help but laugh, “Then let me treat you to tea later.”

“No need, I have matters to attend to.”

He stood to leave after speaking.

“Lord Zhang.”

Yang Wan called out to stop him. Zhang Luo halted: “Something else?”

Yang Wan stood and walked to face him, “You came specifically to check on Qingbo House today, didn’t you?”

Zhang Luo pressed his lips together without speaking.

Yang Wan looked up, “How can I thank you if you won’t admit it?”

Zhang Luo looked down: “I don’t need your thanks. Patrolling the capital is the Northern Depot’s duty.”

“Yes.”

Yang Wan smiled in acknowledgment.

Zhang Luo avoided her gaze, though his neck gradually grew warm.

“Yang Wan…”

He tentatively called her name.

“Yes?” she responded, still not looking away.

The veins on Zhang Luo’s neck quietly became prominent. He had to turn sideways, “If anyone comes to cause trouble at Qingbo House again, you can send someone to find me at the Northern Depot. If I’m not there, you can also look for Lieutenant Li.”

Yang Wan shook her head, “I don’t want to involve my lord.”

“The capital is under my jurisdiction. Using the word ‘involve’ is inappropriate.”

Yang Wan didn’t decline further, stepping back to bow to him, “Thank you, my lord.”

Zhang Luo looked down as she completed her bow. Compared to their first meeting at the Yang residence four years ago, her manner of bowing was much more sincere, her deportment even somewhat similar to that person’s, yet fundamentally different. She wasn’t humble – even with her head lowered, she was merely expressing gratitude, maintaining propriety.

“I accept no thanks.”

Yang Wan straightened up, “If Lord Zhang won’t accept my thanks, would you consider being friends?”

Zhang Luo started, then coldly replied: “I only ‘associate’ with those in prison.”

“Including Deng Ying?”

Zhang Luo didn’t deny it.

Yang Wan continued: “If one day I become a prisoner, I hope my lord will treat me as you treated Deng Ying.”

“Why would you become a prisoner?”

Yang Wan looked up, “Who knows what the future holds? I’ve always harbored discontent, and I don’t know how long this discontent will be tolerated.”

Zhang Luo didn’t pursue it further, saying: “I don’t associate with women, and haven’t you forgotten that you once said I wasn’t worthy of your emotions?”

“I…”

Yang Wan choked slightly, then smiled, “Is it too late to take back those words?”

Zhang Luo turned and walked a few steps forward, replying: “I take back what I said to you before.”

“What words?”

“Too shameful to repeat now.”

After speaking, he continued walking forward, then suddenly paused and turned back: “Don’t let Yang Lun buy me tangerines anymore.”

Yang Wan was startled, “Ah?”

Zhang Luo frowned: “Too sour.”

As he finished speaking, he turned to see Deng Ying coming from the inner court.

“Lord Zhang…”

Zhang Luo instinctively swallowed, not waiting for him to finish before saying: “I have matters at the office.”

He then mounted his horse and rode away.

Yang Wan laughed while holding the broom.

Deng Ying came forward to ask: “What did Lord Zhang say was too sour?”

“Tangerines.”

Deng Ying didn’t understand why Yang Wan was laughing, adding: “Zixi’s tangerines are indeed quite sour.”

He then looked at the book’s ashes on the ground, “What was burned?”

“Oh, I burned some waste drafts. Why are you back today, don’t you have duty tomorrow?”

Deng Ying shook his head, “Tomorrow I meet with the cabinet.”

“About what?”

Deng Ying said: “Old cases from the Ceremonial Office are being reviewed. The cabinet and Ministry of Justice will question me. The Hanlin Academy has revised the ‘Imperial Ancestral Instructions,’ which is now with me. The cabinet hasn’t reviewed it yet, so I’ll present it tomorrow for discussion, then send it to the Han Publishing Office for printing.”

Yang Wan coughed once, “Has His Majesty seen the new ‘Instructions’?”

Deng Ying nodded, “Yes.”

“What did he say?”

Deng Ying remained silent.

“Others kill you, yet you forge a knife to kill yourself.”

“Wan-wan…”

“But it’s fine. That knife is forged by you, it won’t dare shame you.”

She took his arm, “Come, let’s go in and eat.”

On the fifth day of the third month, the inner and outer court officials met at the Ceremonial Office.

On the same day, an incident occurred in the capital – neither major nor minor – the wife and child of a student from Tongjia Academy were found drowned in a mill pond at a suburban estate. It should have been an accident, but somehow the remaining relatives reported it to the Prefecture, claiming the Eastern Depot had committed murder. After investigation, the Prefecture didn’t want to handle it as a case, but just as they were about to dismiss it, the Left Censor-in-Chief personally came to inquire, with a simple message: pursue this case.

When Yang Lun heard this news in the cabinet, looking at the new draft of the “Instructions” in his hand, he couldn’t speak for a long while.

Seeing sweat on his forehead, Qi Huaiyang couldn’t help advising: “Without evidence, the Prefecture won’t make arbitrary judgments.”

Yang Lun shouted: “Judgments? Is this even the case? You know that the Tongjia and Zhang cases are being reviewed now, and at this time, you claim an academy student’s wife and child died at the Eastern Depot’s hands. What are you doing? You’re inciting public outrage!”

“Is public outrage wrong?”

Bai Yuyang slammed down the document in his hand, “Someone reports a crime, and the Prefecture won’t investigate – that’s what provokes public outrage!”

Yang Lun advanced several steps toward Bai Yuyang, brandishing the new “Instructions”: “Lord Bai, have you ever seen a eunuch who disciplines other eunuchs like this?”

“Yang Lun!”

Bai Yuyang cut him off, “You are the Deputy Grand Secretary. Ask the other ministers – is your current behavior appropriate?”

Yang Lun looked at the other ministers, who all advised: “Deputy Secretary Yang, you can’t make the world lose faith in us.”

Yang Lun choked, feeling stifled.

His raised hand slowly lowered.

“I, Yang Lun, am ashamed to stand here today. I hereby resign!”