Xu Hexue spread his palm. His slender, pale knuckles curled uneasily once, then settled on the screen. Through a layer of plain gauze, it overlapped with the dim outline of her palm.
A very light contact, carrying his caution and restraint.
The screen could not block the warmth of her palm. Perhaps because her fever had not yet subsided, the temperature was even higher, making him blink like a startled bird at the light touch.
He suddenly remembered that previously, when she had emerged from the Night Watch Bureau prison and moved into the Grand Commandant’s mansion, he had also gently pressed his hand to her forehead to reduce her fever.
At that time there were no romantic thoughts, so he could no longer remember clearly what that warmth felt like.
But tonight,
Clearly separated by a screen, clearly only their palms touching, his other hand hidden beneath the quilt suddenly clenched his robes.
His pale lips pressed together lightly.
Ghost spirits no longer possessed bodies of flesh and blood. He could not sense any heartbeat of his own—only droplets of glimmering dust floated around him, seeming to leap joyfully before quickly merging into his form.
A solitary lamp swayed and flickered, silently mending this broken remnant soul of his.
“Your hand is cold like snow, but like this, do you feel a bit warmer?” The young woman behind the screen asked him.
“Like this, you’ll be cold too.”
That was all he said.
“In summer there’s inevitable heat, in winter inevitable cold. Whether cold or warm, both are temperatures—I feel there’s no difference.”
Ni Su gazed at his form behind the screen. He was like a snow-covered mountain buried in wild grass, lying quietly in the dim shadows, as if no one could approach, no one could break through this deathly silence of his.
But suddenly she very much wanted to.
Thinking this, her fingers pressed harder against the screen, pressing close to his palm, touching his slender knuckles, deliberately touching his fingertips and tapping lightly once.
He seemed startled.
Ni Su even heard a trace of disordered breath from him, very soft, but somehow it made her ears feel a little itchy.
His hand quickly withdrew. Ni Su saw his sleeve flash past.
On the snow-covered mountain, startled birds cried out and took flight with beating wings. Though the scene appeared somewhat flustered, this empty mountain seemed to have become a little more vivid, gained a bit more vitality.
Ni Su’s lips curved upward. She vaguely saw him wrap himself entirely into the quilt and even turn his back.
“Are you angry?”
Ni Su’s chin rested on the soft pillow.
“No.”
He didn’t turn around, still quietly hiding in that patch of shadow.
Ni Su knew his temperament was very good—so good it was as if he never got angry at all. But she still deliberately asked this way. Hearing his answer, she said again, “What do you want to eat tomorrow morning?”
“Whatever you eat is fine.”
He said.
“I want to eat sugar cakes. Shall we eat them together?”
The other side of the screen fell silent for a moment. Finally, he still made a sound of acknowledgment.
Through the long night, the two spoke no more words. Ni Su’s body still hurt terribly. She endured it quietly, but in her heart she thought—if he consistently refused to open his heart, that actually didn’t matter either.
At least during these days he remained in the mortal world, she wanted to make him happy.
Eat the sugar cakes he liked, go to Xiechun Pavilion as many times as they wanted, go find that crooked-neck tree where he’d buried his childhood savings—all of it was fine.
As long as he was happy, that was enough.
In the latter half of the night, sudden autumn rain washed the entire courtyard very clean. Yuzhen entered the room with light steps to open the windows, and Ni Su, who slept very lightly, was awakened.
She first looked toward the screen. The quilt on the soft couch was neatly folded—the person who had lain there last night was already gone.
“Miss Ni, the medicine is already brewing. What would you like to eat this morning?”
Yuzhen turned back and saw the young woman lying on the bed had opened her eyes. She walked forward and gently wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief.
“Sugar cakes.”
As Ni Su spoke, she realized her voice was a bit hoarse.
“Alright, this servant will have someone go buy them.”
Yuzhen was quick and efficient. She brought hot water to help Ni Su simply wash her face, then used a fine-toothed comb to comb her hair. After Ni Su finished drinking the medicine, she went out and found a young servant to go to the street to buy sugar cakes.
The errand-running servant returned quickly. The sugar cakes were still very hot—clearly just removed from the stove.
It had stopped raining outside, but the morning mist was damp and hazy.
Ni Su handed a piece of sugar cake to the young man sitting on the edge of her bed and took a small piece herself, carefully taking a bite.
From time to time she had to blow on her fingers.
Ni Su raised her eyes. Today he had changed into an ink-green round-collared robe. From the ink-green lapels emerged a section of clean white inner garment collar. This rich color made his neck and face appear as white as cold jade.
The pale daylight shone on his smooth fabric, the gold-threaded embroidered patterns glimmering.
The heat of the sugar cake didn’t seem intense to him. His slender eyelashes lowered slightly as he ate that piece of sugar cake very seriously, but Ni Su could not discover any expression of satisfaction or pleasure on his face.
He seemed only to be continuously repeating an action.
“Are you… not eating?”
Her gaze was hard to ignore. Xu Hexue turned his face to look at her, blinking his eyelashes somewhat uncomfortably.
“Does it taste good?”
Ni Su asked him.
“Mm.”
He nodded and took another bite.
Perhaps because his bearing was too pleasing to the eye, Ni Su felt there was something indescribably awkward about lying on the bed eating sugar cakes like this.
She thought randomly but still ate the sugar cake bite by bite.
On the second day after Ni Su emerged from the Drum Court, she asked Cai Chunxu to take some of her silver to buy quite a bit of medicinal salve and supplements to send to He Zhongping and the other thirty-five scholars.
Unexpectedly, today He Zhongping came bringing some things he and the others had sent. On that day Wu Jikang had suddenly fallen into delirium, and He Zhongping had only received a few strokes before the hearing hastily concluded.
He Zhongping was among those who received punishment at the Drum Court with relatively light injuries. At least after recuperating for several days he could manage to get out of bed, so he immediately came to visit Ni Su.
“Young Master He is also injured and should recuperate well. You needn’t come to see me.”
Separated by the screen, Yuzhen had also lowered the tasseled curtain. Ni Su vaguely saw He Zhongping limping through the door.
“They’re all more seriously injured than me. I came today to see you on their behalf…” As He Zhongping spoke, he sat down at the table. Who knew that as soon as his bottom touched the stool surface, he made a hissing sound and sprang up at once.
Yuzhen couldn’t suppress her laughter. She brought a soft cushion to place on the stool surface. “This servant was too slow. Please sit now, young master.”
He Zhongping smiled awkwardly and sat down again. His bottom felt somewhat better.
“Are they all well?”
Ni Su spoke from behind the curtain. “That day at the Drum Court when I saw you all come, I was truly very grateful in my heart.”
“We all received the medicine you sent, and they all said to thank you.” Hearing her say the word “grateful,” He Zhongping felt somewhat at a loss for a moment. The smile on his face was also somewhat forced. He lowered his head, and after a long while said, “Whether they or I—none of us deserve this gratitude from you. They felt injustice for Brother Jiming and also injustice for themselves. And I…”
He Zhongping’s brows and eyes were melancholy. “And I—I am indebted to Brother Jiming.”
“If I hadn’t spoken of his policy essays and poems to others, perhaps none of this would have happened at all. Miss Ni seeks justice for her elder brother, enduring all manner of suffering in Yun Jing—you can be called supremely loyal and resolute. If at this time I remained unmoved, how could I face all the care Brother Jiming showed me in Yun Jing?”
Saying this, He Zhongping supported himself with one hand on the table and stood up, bowing solemnly toward Ni Su behind the curtain. “Miss Ni, in the past I feared trouble at every turn, but now I’ve thought very clearly—if Wu Jikang doesn’t die, I’m willing to continue seeking justice with you. Heavenly principle is clear and manifest. The days ahead are long.”
He Zhongping didn’t stay long. Bearing injuries, he couldn’t sit still. After exchanging just a few words with Ni Su, he left.
The door stood wide open, sunlight spreading shallowly across the floor.
Ni Su lay on the bed, seeming to smell the fresh, clean scent after new rain on an empty mountain.
She saw that ink-green figure standing by the window lattice. Residual rainwater dripped onto the book scroll in his hands. He gazed at that drop of rain that dampened the scroll, finally brushing his pale fingers lightly across the page.
She felt drowsy, her heart at peace.
——
Emperor Zhengyuan had temporarily suspended court audiences due to head ailments. Few officials at court could see His Majesty in his illness—only Meng Yunxian had entered Qinghe Hall for several consecutive days.
“Tell me, what exactly are those people from the Remonstrance Court and Hanlin Academy making a fuss about?”
Emperor Zhengyuan’s spirits were even poorer today. Lying on the dragon couch, his voice was somewhat hollow and weak.
“How could this subject know the reasons within?” Meng Yunxian stood outside the curtain, eyes lowered, speaking respectfully. “Only now public sentiment is boiling over. The common people all praise Ni Qinglan’s younger sister as supremely true and resolute. Moreover, there’s also a group of young scholars who have already received punishment for Ni Qinglan. If Your Majesty doesn’t quickly make a decision regarding the Double Ninth Festival petition, I fear…”
“Fear what?”
“I fear that among the imperial clan, all will believe Your Majesty’s determination to implement the new policies is not firm. After all, National Uncle Wu Jikang’s fraud occurred precisely during the winter examinations, and the winter examinations were specially established by Your Majesty to select talent for the new policies. The winter examinations are the beginning of re-implementing the new policies. If the beginning is not good, how can we speak of renewal of all things?”
If the beginning was weak, how could those imperial clansmen be made to disgorge even some of the wealth they’d swallowed? If they discovered His Majesty’s determination was not firm, wouldn’t they scorn the new policies even more and sabotage them?
When that time came, how much silver could still be recovered?
Meng Yunxian didn’t say these words, but that didn’t mean Emperor Zhengyuan wouldn’t make these connections. He waited quietly, listening to the emperor on the dragon couch cough for quite a while before he said, “Please, Your Majesty, take care of your dragon body.”
“I truly have grown old…”
Emperor Zhengyuan sighed slowly, his chest rising and falling.
When not in court audience, Emperor Zhengyuan didn’t often use the imperial “We.”
“Zhang Jing and Jiang Xianming have both submitted memorials opposing the Feng and Shan ceremony.” The conversation turned, and Emperor Zhengyuan’s tone became quite meaningful. “But I see that Minister Meng, your views seem different from theirs.”
“Your Majesty’s benevolent virtue spreads across the four seas, weightier than Mount Tai. How can you not perform the great Feng and Shan ceremony?” As Meng Yunxian spoke, he bowed with cupped hands again. “Minister Zhang and Imperial Censor Jiang likely also worry about exhausting the people and wasting resources. But if Your Majesty can now confiscate a portion of the silver that was meant for dredging river channels but was embezzled, this can also resolve the urgent crisis.”
Emperor Zhengyuan said nothing, gazing at him for a long while.
“I heard that Minister Zhang once parted ways with you at the city gate and severed friendship, yet I see you still treat Minister Zhang with the regard of a good friend.”
“Though we severed friendship, the regard between colleagues remains unbroken.”
Meng Yunxian responded calmly and composedly.
Mentioning only colleagues and not good friends—Emperor Zhengyuan pulled at his lips, his fingers lightly tapping on the edge of the bed, striking from time to time.
Meng Yunxian kept his head lowered, listening to this series of faint sounds, waiting very patiently. By now, Emperor Zhengyuan could no longer avoid this winter examination case that the Petition Drum Court had accepted.
“I have already made my decision. Minister Meng, you may return.”
Emperor Zhengyuan’s voice seemed calm.
“This subject takes his leave.”
Meng Yunxian immediately bowed, then withdrew from Qinghe Hall.
It wasn’t raining today, but there was still standing water in the palace. As Meng Yunxian descended the long white jade steps and headed toward the Administrative Hall, he paid no attention to stepping in puddles that dampened his official boots.
In the vast Administrative Hall, it was mealtime, and few officials were in the hall. As Meng Yunxian entered, he saw an attendant official gathering up a pile of books and scrolls. He asked, “What are all those?”
“Minister Meng.”
The attendant official quickly bowed and said, “These are all things Minister Zhang requested—the annual performance evaluations of all officials from the Zhengyuan era.”
“What does he want those for?”
Meng Yunxian felt strange.
The attendant official shook his head. “This subordinate official doesn’t know.”
“Fine, I’ll take them.” Meng Yunxian walked over and took them, then headed to the back hall.
Zhang Jing disliked commotion and hadn’t gone to eat with those other officials. Hanlin Academician He Tong had brought over a food box, so Zhang Jing ate alone in the back hall.
“You’re still not recovered? Why are you eating only these?”
Meng Yunxian walked over and glanced at the plain congee and simple dishes on the table.
Zhang Jing looked up and saw him holding an armful of books and scrolls. His expression froze, then he lowered his eyes again and drank his congee on his own. “I’m used to eating these things. Other foods are hard to digest now.”
“Then what do you want these for?”
Meng Yunxian placed all the books and scrolls on the desk. “Don’t tell me you want to reform the civil service?”
“Your implementation of the new policies has been tepid and ineffective. Won’t you allow me to apply stronger medicine?”
Zhang Jing didn’t even lift an eyelid.
“Now is not the right time.”
Having walked quickly all the way back from Qinghe Hall, Meng Yunxian didn’t care whether the tea on the desk was cold or not—he picked it up and drank it.
“Then when will be the right time?”
Zhang Jing drank his congee while saying, “Meng Zhuo, I see that after being demoted once, your courage has been worn away too. His Majesty wants to perform the Feng and Shan ceremony, so you raise silver for him. You’re truly becoming better and better at being an official.”
Meng Yunxian’s face showed helplessness. “His Majesty’s determination for the Feng and Shan ceremony is far firmer than for re-implementing the new policies. That day when I mentioned the Feng and Shan ceremony in Qinghe Hall, it was to make His Majesty face the winter examination case squarely. At that time Imperial Censor Jiang was in the hall, but he didn’t speak out in opposition—instead he later wrote a separate memorial opposing the Feng and Shan ceremony. He is the only close minister His Majesty can tolerate. And what about you, Chongzhi? How long have you been back? His Majesty still has doubts about you. Why did you have to submit a memorial slapping His Majesty’s face at this time?”
When Zhang Jing heard him say “He is the only close minister His Majesty can tolerate,” his hand gripping the soup spoon clenched tightly, trembling slightly and almost imperceptibly.
He suddenly looked up at Meng Yunxian. “You should know how he became that close minister.”
Meng Yunxian started.
Of course he knew—
The year Jade Scepter General Xu Hexue died was the year Jiang Xianming rose to the heights.
“Just because His Majesty can only tolerate him, does that mean the rest of us can’t speak the truth? Is this what it means to be an official? The thirteen northern provinces have yet to be recovered, and our Great Qi still must pay one hundred thousand in annual tribute to the barbarians who plundered our territory! In recent years, the more suppression there is, the more banditry continues unchecked. In such circumstances, His Majesty still wants to exhaust the people and waste resources to perform the Feng and Shan ceremony at Mount Tai?”
Zhang Jing set down his soup spoon and stood up. “Meng Zhuo, I ask you—if everyone refuses to speak the truth, how can we purify the realm and protect the state?”
“I’m not saying you can’t speak—only that the timing is wrong!”
Meng Yunxian frowned.
“How is it wrong? Today in Qinghe Hall, did His Majesty ask you about this? You spoke up for me, didn’t you? From what position did you speak up for me?”
Meng Yunxian opened his mouth. Meeting Zhang Jing’s gaze, his throat felt dry.
Colleagues, not good friends.
Because His Majesty did not want the two of them to be friends again. It was best if they continued being at odds like this—then His Majesty wouldn’t have to worry about the two of them joining forces to scheme anything.
“You have no position, so you shouldn’t have spoken for me.”
Even without him speaking, Zhang Jing had already seen through exactly how he conducted himself before His Majesty. “What I want to do, how I’ll do it—none of it concerns you. I am His Majesty’s minister and also Great Qi’s minister. I serve the ruler but must also serve the state. I cannot do as you do—only saying what His Majesty likes to hear.”
“Zhang Chongzhi!”
Meng Yunxian feared him saying such things. Just the two words “colleagues”—Meng Yunxian had wounded himself before even uttering them. He was habitually able to endure. After these fourteen years of demotion, he had become even more able to endure than before. But in front of this old friend who remained supremely important in his heart, his ability to endure became inability to endure. “Fourteen years ago, the consequence of my reforming the civil service was you and I severing friendship and parting ways—was you losing your wife and child, suffering injuries and illness throughout your body… It’s not that I’ve changed. I’ve only come to understand some things. I know some matters can’t be rushed.”
Meng Yunxian faced off with him. After a long while, he closed his eyes and said something almost unexpectedly treasonous:
“Chongzhi—when the ruler is benevolent, only then can ministers be forthright.”
When the ruler is benevolent, only then dare ministers be forthright.
If the ruler is not benevolent, then even if ministers are forthright, it brings no benefit.