As dawn broke, the imperial guards at the city gate formed two lines, standing in ordered ranks, while court officials clustered around Emperor Zhaoyuan’s imperial palanquin waiting outside the gate. Prince Ling and Prince Cong stood at the front of the assembly.
The moment news had reached Jinling the day before that Cheng Chang was in Yangzhou, Emperor Zhaoyuan had immediately ordered Xuan Zhi to take two thousand Palace Guard troops to receive him. Now, with the hour of mao already past, a column of soldiers could be seen approaching from the distance.
Xuan Zhi rode forward, dismounted, and knelt with clasped hands. “Reporting to Your Majesty, this humble general has failed in his duty and was unable to bring the Young Prince back from Yangzhou.”
The figure within the imperial palanquin remained silent for a long moment. It was Prince Ling who spoke up first, startled. “Unable to bring Mingying back? What does the General of Guide mean by this?”
He wore, that day, a robe of deep blue-green with broad sleeves, official in style, belted at the waist—understated, yet unable to fully mask the noble bearing about him.
Xuan Zhi said, “This humble general arrived in Yangzhou with troops last night, only to be told by Prefect Liu Qin of Yangzhou that the Young Prince and General Mingwei had already set out ahead for Jinling on their own. Prefect Liu said that before departing, the Young Prince instructed that he had, in fact, been persecuted by Lord Chai on the day of the Imperial City Bureau incident, and asked that this humble general escort Lord Chai back to the capital under guard.”
At these words, everyone present was stunned.
Chai Ping, a man always known for his mild and amiable manner—could he truly be the one who’d persecuted the Third Young Master?
All eyes turned then, sweeping past the long line of guards, to a prisoner’s cart at the rear.
Prince Ling, hearing this, remained composed, made a soft sound, and asked, “Is that so? Where is the Prefect of Yangzhou?”
Prefect Liu stepped forward from the crowd. “This official is here.”
“When Mingying identified Lord Chai, did he say anything else?”
“In answer to Your Highness, the Young Prince only said that on that day, it was Lord Chai who led men to pursue him to the woodshed at the end of the passage between the inner and outer offices of the Imperial City Bureau, and that the fire was set on Lord Chai’s own orders as well. As for the burn on Lord Chai’s arm, it came from when he’d had the woodshed locked with a bronze padlock, then, fearing someone might see the lock and suspect him, got burned retrieving it when the fire burst out of the woodshed.”
“If that’s the case, then this matter concerns both a prince of the current dynasty and a court official—it’s no small affair. It must be immediately ordered for joint investigation by the Three Judicial Offices, and every witness and piece of evidence gathered before any verdict is rendered. We can’t let Mingying suffer such an ordeal in vain, but neither can we wrongfully condemn a court official. What does Father think?” With that, Prince Ling bowed toward the palanquin for instruction.
“Your Highness needn’t trouble yourself. This prince has already found the witness himself.”
Before Emperor Zhaoyuan could answer, a cold voice suddenly rang out from the back of the crowd.
Everyone turned to look, and saw the guards on the left parting to open a narrow path, through which Cheng Chang walked forward with Zhou Cai Ying beside him, Yun Xi and several Imperial City Bureau guards following behind.
Reaching the imperial presence, Cheng Chang bowed first to Emperor Zhaoyuan. “Your Majesty.”
Emperor Zhaoyuan’s voice drifted out from within the palanquin, unhurried. “Chang’er, rise.”
Cheng Chang’s gaze then fell on Prince Cong and his consort, standing beside the palanquin.
A year had passed, and Prince Cong’s temples had turned entirely gray. The consort, once a great beauty, no longer carried her former radiance—the moment she saw him, tears streamed down her face without restraint.
Cheng Chang had never felt much attachment to these two adoptive parents of his, but seeing them looking like this now, something bittersweet stirred in his chest, and he couldn’t help stepping forward, calling out, “Father. Mother.”
Hearing him say “Father,” Prince Cong’s own eyes reddened, though he restrained himself, patting Cheng Chang’s hand. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”
Back in Yangzhou, Cheng Chang had already heard from Prefect Liu that ever since Prince Cong’s household had held funeral rites for him, the prince and his consort had shut their doors to visitors entirely, not even attending Emperor Zhaoyuan’s birthday celebrations.
Cheng Chang understood that Prince Cong had utterly given up on Emperor Zhaoyuan—but his position was too precarious to allow rebellion or open vengeance. Cheng Chang’s “body” had never been recovered, and if he were still alive, an open revolt by Prince Cong’s household would have cut off his own path back for good—so all they could do was keep their distance from the emperor entirely.
Cheng Chang had meant to comfort his father and mother properly, but there would be time for such words back at the residence—right now, standing before the emperor, he still had more pressing matters to attend to.
Cheng Chang stepped back and bowed once more toward Emperor Zhaoyuan’s palanquin. “Reporting to Your Majesty—a year ago, your nephew was pursued by villains intent on killing him, an act witnessed with his own eyes by Vice Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial, Zhou Cai Ying. The villain believed your nephew already dead and grew careless, leaving behind this witness. Fearing the villain might move against Lord Zhou as well, your nephew rode through the night with General Yun to return to Jinling and rescue him. Lord Zhou has now personally written a blood statement, proving beyond doubt that your nephew’s ordeal was, in fact, caused by Vice Censor-in-Chief Chai Ping!”
At these words, Zhou Cai Ying knelt down, trembling, and presented a blood-written letter.
Wu Mao, standing guard beside the palanquin, took the letter and presented it within.
Zhou Cai Ying said, “Reporting to Your Majesty, on th-that day, Mingying—no, the Young Prince—was led to the Imperial City Bureau precisely because Lord Chai made use of the matter of the missing Fifth Prince to lure him there…”
Emperor Zhaoyuan’s declining health was known to all the court, to the point that even his final wish—to see his long-lost son once before he died—had become an open secret that everyone at court silently understood but never spoke aloud.
So when Zhou Cai Ying brought up Prince Cheng Xu in front of so many people, those around him merely kept their eyes lowered and their thoughts to themselves, showing no particular surprise.
Emperor Zhaoyuan listened as Zhou Cai Ying spoke, glancing over the blood statement as he did. Once Zhou Cai Ying finished, he called out, “Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.”
“This subject is here.”
“The Ministry of Justice is currently investigating the theft from the Ministry of War storehouse, and Chai Ping belongs to the Censorate. This blood statement shall be held by you for now. As for the full circumstances of how Chang’er came to be pursued into that fire, I give you ten days to get to the bottom of it, without fail.”
“Yes.”
Emperor Zhaoyuan paused briefly, then called out again, “Mingwei.”
Yun Xi stepped forward from the crowd and bowed. “This humble general is here.”
She had ridden through the night with Cheng Chang back to Jinling, with no time to change into her official uniform—she was still wearing the pale yellow silk gown Feng Tun had given her.
It was just past the hour of chen, the spring light unusually clear and soft. She’d stood inconspicuously at the back of the crowd until now, but stepping forward into view, it became apparent that the gauze overlay of her outer garment was embroidered with kerria blossoms in nearly translucent pale gold thread—invisible in the dark of night, but now, catching the morning light, her entire figure seemed draped in radiance. Already strikingly beautiful, walking beneath the clear blue sky, she looked utterly unrestrained and luminous, radiant and graceful.
Everyone’s gaze fell on her, and a collective breath caught in the crowd.
Seeing this, Cheng Chang’s brow furrowed faintly, almost imperceptibly.
“On this journey east to Yangzhou, you not only found Chang’er but achieved another remarkable feat—by rights you should be promoted again. But since you were only recently raised to fourth rank after returning from Lingnan, I shall instead reward you with a thousand taels of silver, and bestow upon you a golden seal and purple sash.”
Yun Xi bowed. “Yes, this humble general thanks Your Majesty for his gracious favor.”
Emperor Zhaoyuan said, “Today, with Chang’er safely returned, my heart is greatly pleased. I hereby grant all my ministers a day of rest.” He then turned to Cheng Chang. “Chang’er, your father and mother have spent this past year in deep worry and grief over you. Go back to the residence today and spend time with them. Come to the palace tomorrow to see me and your Grand Imperial Grandmother.”
“Yes.”
With that, Emperor Zhaoyuan seemed to grow weary, waved his hand, and was led back into the palace by the Palace Guard.
Though Emperor Zhaoyuan had granted a day of rest, with so many matters pressing at the start of the new year, none of the ministers dared truly take it. They offered their congratulations to Prince Cong and Cheng Chang in turn, then filed in orderly succession back toward the palace.
Ever since Prince Yun’s downfall, the Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review had never been particularly favored. Though Emperor Zhaoyuan had just entrusted him with an important task, the minister knew this was, in truth, a thankless job.
Setting aside Chai Ping’s position as Vice Censor-in-Chief, the man was already well regarded by Prince Ling. Punish him too harshly, and he’d offend Prince Ling; punish him too lightly, and he’d offend the Third Young Master.
Caught between the two, the Chief Minister, seeing Prince Ling and Cheng Chang about to leave, gritted his teeth, tucked the blood statement Emperor Zhaoyuan had entrusted to him safely away, and stepped forward. “Prince Ling, Young Prince, if you please.”
Both Prince Ling and Cheng Chang paused at once, turning to look at the Chief Minister.
The minister bowed to each of them first. “It’s like this—this official has just glanced briefly over the blood statement written by Lord Zhou, and noticed it doesn’t clearly state the reason why Lord Chai would harm the Young Prince. This official would like to ask Your Highness—have you ever had any conflict with Lord Chai in the past?”
Cheng Chang answered briefly, “No.”
“…” The Chief Minister looked troubled.
Prince Ling said, “Speaking of which, this prince finds it rather strange as well. As far as I know, there’s never been any dispute between Chai Ping and Mingying. And if I recall correctly, back when the Marquis Zhongyong’s case was under investigation, wasn’t it the two of them at the Censorate who worked on it together, in perfect cooperation throughout? Mingying’s attack happened right around the time the Marquis Zhongyong case had just concluded—Chai Ping’s visit to the Imperial City Bureau that day seems to have been related to that very case as well. Why would he harm Mingying? Mingying, perhaps you should think it over more carefully—could it be that, in your panic and flight at the time, you misread Lord Chai’s intentions?”
The Chief Minister found this quite reasonable.
If the whole thing turned out to be a simple misunderstanding, it would make his own task far easier.
But before he could speak, Cheng Chang cut in coolly, “What does Your Highness mean by that? I very nearly died in that fire—was such an intimate injury supposed to wrong Chai Ping unjustly?”
“That’s not what this prince means.”
“Then what does Your Highness mean?” Cheng Chang said. “I don’t know what Chai Ping’s motive for killing me was. Had I known earlier, wouldn’t it have been better for me to guard against him in advance? Or, perhaps, there truly was no dispute between Lord Chai and myself at all, and what he did was carried out under someone else’s instruction?”
There was clear implication in Cheng Chang’s words, and no one present failed to catch it.
Many officials still lingering nearby, hearing this, felt a shiver run through them, and one after another stepped back, bowing low.
Only the two men at the center remained, standing in silent confrontation.
After a moment, Prince Ling gave a light smile and said mildly, “Mingying overthinks this. But if Chai Ping truly was acting under someone else’s orders, and dared to harm this prince’s own cousin, then this prince would be the very first to seek justice against whoever it was.”
“Then I hope Cousin will remember those words well,” Cheng Chang said.
He looked at Prince Ling, then suddenly smiled as well. “I happen to be someone who doesn’t much care for entangling myself with others. But if someone brings harm to me, I could never simply let it pass so easily. If Cousin ever finds this ‘noble benefactor’ behind it all, please be sure to tell me. Whatever grudge or hatred is owed to me, I will always repay in kind—and whatever suffering he’s inflicted on me, I will return it tenfold!”
With that, he said no more, swept his sleeve, and walked straight toward his own carriage.
Prince Cong’s carriage had already set off. The servants who’d come to receive Cheng Chang that day were none other than Sun Haiping and Zhang Dahu.
The two of them, learning the night before that Cheng Chang was in fact alive, had already had a good long cry, tears and sobs alike. Standing at the very back of the crowd and finally laying eyes on their young lord, they’d already gotten the worst of the emotion out of their systems, and by now approached him with a much steadier composure.
Sun Haiping helped Cheng Chang up into the carriage. Zhang Dahu, following behind, craned his neck to look around and asked, “Young Prince, where’s General Yun?”
Yun Xi’s trip to Yangzhou had, in fact, originally been to hunt down bandits. Though she’d returned along with him, they had yet to turn up so much as a single clue regarding the culprits, so naturally she’d hurried off toward the Bureau of Military Affairs.
Cheng Chang said, “She still has business to attend to.”
Zhang Dahu sighed with regret. “General Yun really is lovely to look at. The little one here thought, since she saved the Young Prince this time, you’d invite her to the residence to properly thank her, and the little one could get a few more good looks at her.”
Cheng Chang, having not slept all night, had been resting with his eyes closed—but at this, he cracked his eyes open slightly and cast a glance at Zhang Dahu.
His gaze was icy and sharp.
Sun Haiping could have kicked himself for not stuffing a sock in Zhang Dahu’s mouth right then.
Zhang Dahu, too, seemed to sense something off in his young lord’s expression, and hurried to explain, “It’s not just the little one who thinks General Yun is lovely, heh—Young Prince, you didn’t see it, but earlier, Grand Tutor Zuo’s young master saw General Yun and couldn’t take his eyes off her. But his looks and manner aren’t up to snuff, so General Yun didn’t think much of him—last time he went to the Marquis Zhongyong’s residence to propose, General Yun’s sister-in-law turned him down on her behalf.”
Hearing this, Cheng Chang was startled, and his eyes—just barely closed again—opened once more. “Propose?”
“Yes, Young Prince, you wouldn’t know. While you were gone this past year, the threshold of the Marquis Zhongyong’s residence has practically been worn through with visitors.” Zhang Dahu said. “Never mind the Grand Tutor’s family—last time there was even someone bold enough to go straight to General Yun herself and propose to her face, and she turned him down flat. I heard the General’s been avoiding the residence almost entirely since coming back from Lingnan, hiding out at the military camp most days just to dodge it all. But it hasn’t helped—seems like it was just this past February, the fifth son of the Vice Minister of the Imperial Clan Court’s household sent a matchmaker to the Marquis Zhongyong’s residence to propose as well. He’s said to have excellent character, his birth chart’s a great match with General Yun’s too, and he’s very sincere about it—the six rites of matchmaking have already gotten to the betrothal-gift stage, and the engagement gifts are all prepared!”
Cheng Chang made a soft sound and continued resting with his eyes closed.
But though his eyes stayed shut, his brows gradually drew together, and he called out, “Sun Haiping.”
The chill in that single call made Sun Haiping jump. “H-here!”
But before Cheng Chang could give any instruction, he blurted out at once, “Young Prince, this humble one already looked into the identities of the dozen or so men who’ve come to propose to the Marquis Zhongyong’s residence this past year, last night. The moment we get back to the residence, this humble one will present it to you right away.”
Cheng Chang’s brow eased slightly, and he made another soft sound.