When Zhang Jing’s head fell, heavy snow pervaded the city of Yun Jing.

The next day when Emperor Zhengyuan awoke, he had Consort Wu support him as he stood by the window for a moment. Unmelted snow accumulated on the green-glazed tiles—everywhere he looked was a frosty white.

Emperor Zhengyuan immediately vomited blood.

“Your Majesty!” Consort Wu panicked, immediately ordering Liang Shenfu to have someone fetch physicians from the Imperial Medical Bureau, while she and the palace maids helped Emperor Zhengyuan back to lie on the bed.

“Summon Zheng Jian…”

Emperor Zhengyuan’s chest heaved.

Liang Shenfu immediately bowed in acknowledgment. “Your Majesty, this slave will send someone to fetch him at once!”

The chief physician from the Imperial Medical Bureau arrived first at Qinghe Hall, kneeling beside the dragon bed to take Emperor Zhengyuan’s pulse. Hanlin Academy Scholarly Attendant Zheng Jian was led in by Liang Shenfu at this moment.

“Your subject Zheng Jian pays respects to Your Majesty.”

Zheng Jian bowed respectfully outside the curtain.

“The memorial accusing Zhang Jing of privately accepting thousands of acres of fertile land was submitted by you,” Emperor Zhengyuan lay on the bed, eyes half-open, not looking at the person beyond the curtain at all. “Minister Zheng, did you ever consider that this memorial of yours would condemn Zhang Jing to death?”

Zheng Jian’s heart tightened. Today’s situation had indeed exceeded his expectations. When he submitted this memorial, he never imagined it could result in Zhang Jing receiving a death sentence.

“Your subject… is terrified.”

Zheng Jian’s lips trembled slightly.

“You should be terrified.”

Emperor Zhengyuan laughed coldly from within the curtain, then immediately coughed violently. “Meng Yunxian’s loyalty and affection toward him remain unbroken. His student He Tong has always valued this teacher of his. Those young men who wept for him beneath the execution platform yesterday—right now, they should all want to eat your flesh, drink your blood, and tear you to pieces.”

“Your Majesty!”

Zheng Jian’s entire body trembled as he knelt down.

Emperor Zhengyuan paid him no mind, merely raising one hand. Consort Wu and the chief physician immediately emerged from within the curtain and walked outside the hall.

Only Liang Shenfu remained at Emperor Zhengyuan’s side, serving him a pill to relieve his head ailment.

“Zhang Jing sought death with all his heart. Your memorial merely gave him the opportunity. He contradicted me, condemned my heart—all for the sake of one word: ‘death.’ You thought you were scheming against him, not knowing you had long since become his chess piece. Now rumors spread everywhere outside that Zhang Jing died wrongly, and that snowfall was the best proof.”

Exhausted turbidity permeated Emperor Zhengyuan’s voice. “Someone will surely remember those words he spoke before dying. He wanted to use his own life to make those who trust him also trust that student of his who defected to the enemy and betrayed the nation.”

“Your Majesty, the ironclad evidence of Xu Hexue leading thirty thousand Jing’an Army troops to defect to the enemy and betray the nation is conclusive. When Censor Jiang executed Xu Hexue in Yongzhou that year, not a single subject of Great Qi failed to applaud. Now based solely on Zhang Jing’s few words before death, without concrete evidence, this is truly insufficient grounds for belief!”

Zheng Jian prostrated himself and kowtowed. “Your subject believes the Daizhou grain supplies case also has suspicious points!”

The hall suddenly fell silent.

Zheng Jian’s head was covered in sweat, worry and fear filling his heart. Each moment felt endlessly difficult to endure.

Liang Shenfu carefully wiped clean the emperor’s beard and retreated to the side. Only then did Emperor Zhengyuan lift his eyelids slightly to look at Zheng Jian kneeling outside the curtain. His gloomy expression finally eased somewhat, gaining a touch of satisfaction. “Then re-interrogate Qian Weiyin. You will conduct the interrogation together with the Court of Judicial Review.”

The emperor’s tone was bland yet carried an indescribable威pressure. Cold sweat covered Zheng Jian’s back. His forehead pressed against the icy floor, his beard trembling: “Your subject… accepts the decree.”

The accumulated snow had not melted. Today felt cold, unlike a spring day at the end of March.

When Zheng Jian emerged from Qinghe Hall, his entire body was nearly drained of strength. Palace Censor Ding Jin, who had been seeking audience with Emperor Zhengyuan outside but was denied entry, supported him as the two descended the stairs together.

Ding Jin held up his robe hem with one hand. “Lord Zheng, are you already panicking?”

“His Majesty wants me to interrogate Qian Weiyin together with the Court of Judicial Review.”

Zheng Jian’s face turned pale. “What do you think this means?”

Upon hearing this, Ding Jin turned his face to look at him. “Why does Lord Zheng ask such an unnecessary question? His Majesty orders you to interrogate Qian Weiyin, so you go interrogate him. Could you possibly not know where your way out lies?”

Zheng Jian could be considered a close minister to the emperor. His Majesty had been manipulated by Zhang Jing’s sacrifice of life. Now that he had come to his senses, naturally his thunderous fury had nowhere to vent. Today’s words from His Majesty meant he wanted Zheng Jian to bear responsibility for this.

Zhang Jing’s death and yesterday’s snow had set rumors flying throughout all of Yun Jing. Now Zheng Jian had only one path to walk—that was to make Qian Weiyin, currently imprisoned in jail, change his testimony.

As long as Qian Weiyin admitted the Daizhou grain supplies case was entirely fabricated, he could use this to overturn Zhang Jing’s previous memorial.

“Let us hope Qian Weiyin proves sensible.”

Zheng Jian sighed.

In late March of the twentieth year of Zhengyuan, the interrogation of the criminal official Qian Weiyin from Fengzhou by the Hanlin Academy Scholarly Attendant and the Court of Judicial Review lasted ten full days. But what caught Zheng Jian and the others completely off guard was that no matter how severe the torture, Qian Weiyin stubbornly clenched his teeth and refused to relent.

“Qian Weiyin! This official has come to interrogate you by His Majesty’s decree. Why do you still refuse to confess why you gave false testimony?” In the dark prison, Zheng Jian slammed his hand on the table and glared furiously at the middle-aged criminal official bound to a wooden frame, his entire body barely having any intact flesh.

He deliberately mentioned His Majesty, wanting to use His Majesty’s authority to pressure this person.

“The crime I must acknowledge is not false testimony, but rather embezzlement of official grain and misappropriation of official silver…” Qian Weiyin’s face was half-covered by disheveled hair. He breathed with difficulty, watching the face of Zheng Jian behind the long table grow increasingly iron-blue. He suddenly began laughing, laughing until bloody foam choked in his throat. He coughed for a while, spitting it out. “Minister Zhang sacrificed his life for the Way. His heart and virtue shine with the utmost brilliance! I am a criminal official. Due to momentary selfish desires, I erred for over ten years—studying the sages’ books in vain, serving as a magistrate in vain! But now I do not wish to err again, nor do I wish for Minister Zhang’s clear reputation to be tainted because of me after his death!”

“Every word and sentence in the confession is true! I, Qian Weiyin, acknowledge this crime—I do not acknowledge false testimony! This life and body have no way to atone except through death!”

Qian Weiyin shouted hoarsely, his eyes reddening.

If only, back then, he had not been swept up by a momentary lapse in judgment. If only, back then, he had thought more about the “Four Sentences of Hengqu” he repeatedly read during his years of arduous study by cold lamplight.

To ordain conscience for Heaven and Earth, to secure life and fortune for the people.

To continue the lost teachings of past sages, to establish peace for ten thousand generations.

These were the words of ancient sages that, upon reading once, made his blood run hot throughout his body. He had thought about becoming a good official in the future. But later, when he served as an official in Daizhou and encountered matters of money concerning life and death, he forgot all of this.

One step wrong, every step wrong thereafter.

But at least, now that matters had reached this point, he dared not err again, and ultimately did not fear death.

Qian Weiyin refused to change his testimony unto death. This interrogation by Zheng Jian and the Court of Judicial Review ultimately ended perfunctorily. Based on Qian Weiyin’s confession and the evidence he submitted, Emperor Zhengyuan condemned over a dozen officials implicated in the Daizhou grain supplies case.

Over a dozen criminal officials were executed. Emperor Zhengyuan could no longer avoid this Daizhou grain supplies case. In early April, Emperor Zhengyuan issued a self-reproaching edict, ordering the reconstruction of Daoist temples in Daizhou to shelter starving refugees, thereby announcing it to all subjects throughout the realm.

“Once the self-reproaching edict was issued, His Majesty has not held court for three days.”

Pei Zhiyuan supported Meng Yunxian as they walked into the rear hall of the Council Chamber. After Zhang Jing’s passing, Meng Yunxian had fallen ill. Only today could he barely come to the palace to discuss affairs.

“See how formidable Chongzhi was. He wanted His Majesty to issue a self-reproaching edict, and though His Majesty was unwilling, he had no choice but to do so.” Meng Yunxian found a folding chair to sit in, but noticed a person curled up in the chair beside him. He startled, then upon closer inspection saw it was Hanlin Academician He Tong.

“Academician He, why did you fall asleep here?” Pei Zhiyuan reached out to pat He Tong’s shoulder. “Minister Meng is here. Wake up quickly.”

Hearing the words “Minister Meng,” He Tong opened his eyes. Turning his head, he indeed saw Meng Yunxian sitting beside him. He immediately rose and bowed to Meng Yunxian, but his current appearance could hardly be considered presentable—from curling up sleeping in the chair, even his official robes were somewhat wrinkled.

Meng Yunxian looked at his disheveled beard. “Why don’t you shave this beard?”

“These past days, besides being busy with my teacher’s funeral matters, I’ve also been organizing the poetry manuscripts my teacher entrusted to me. I forgot about such things.” He Tong’s voice carried the hoarseness of staying up through the night.

“Even though you’re a young man, you cannot exhaust yourself like this. Chongzhi would not want to see you treating yourself so carelessly.” Meng Yunxian said.

Hearing Meng Yunxian mention his teacher, He Tong’s eyes inevitably grew sore. His throat moved. He raised his head to look at Meng Yunxian. “Minister Meng…”

“Do you know whose poetry manuscripts my teacher had me organize?”

Meng Yunxian paused. “Weren’t they his own?”

He Tong shook his head. “No.”

“They are Xu Hexue’s.”

He had once written this name in his own essays, consigning it stroke by stroke to filth. He Tong gazed at Meng Yunxian in bewilderment. “Minister Meng, I once hated him. If not for his betrayal of the nation, my teacher would not have been exiled, and my teacher’s wife and senior disciple would not have died on the exile road… But before dying, the poetry manuscripts my teacher had me organize were all of Xu Hexue’s poems and writings, all personally transcribed by my teacher.”

“I wish to ask Minister Meng, what my teacher said…”

He Tong recalled that day’s execution platform, recalled what he had heard from others about the words his teacher spoke before the executioner’s platform. His throat grew rough, suddenly hoarse.

“You should understand your teacher. Without concrete evidence, he would never make such a definitive statement.” Meng Yunxian took over the conversation, then fell silent for a moment. Bright light from outside the window fell on the chair’s armrest. He lowered his eyelids, staring at it. “He Tong, your teacher was indeed exiled because of him. But before that, it was your teacher and I who first brought him to ruin.”

Upon these words, He Tong’s heart immediately shook.

“Back when Chongzhi and I promoted the New Policies, we not only made countless enemies at court but were also hated by the imperial clan. When Chongzhi and I advocated empowering military officials, Wu Dai and his ilk made a great issue of it, causing Xu Hexue at the frontier to be constrained from multiple directions. Though we still do not know who brought him and the thirty thousand Jing’an Army troops to suffer injustice back then, it is difficult to say there was no fault of Chongzhi’s and mine involved.”

Meng Yunxian’s grief nearly crushed his heart and lungs—for Zhang Jing, and also for that young general who journeyed to the frontier in those years, never to return: “He Tong, heed your teacher’s words and preserve well the last remaining traces Xu Hexue left in this world…”

——

Previously, Ni Su had cured the illness of Young Mistress Zhang’s mother. These past two days, Young Mistress Zhang mentioned her again to neighbors living in the same alley, and a woman came to the door requesting Ni Su treat her illness.

For several consecutive days, Ni Su went to the woman’s home for consultations. She placed that ball of light in the small woven-vine medicine basket she carried with her. Even during daylight hours, when she went out she would carry a lamp, paying no mind to others’ strange looks.

“In broad daylight, why does the young mistress carry a lamp?”

The woman’s daughter-in-law saw her off from the house, ultimately unable to restrain herself from asking.

“Waiting for someone.”

Ni Su answered briefly. Regardless of how strange the daughter-in-law’s expression became, she held the medicine box in one hand and the glass lamp in the other, turning to head toward the alley entrance.

The medicine basket was small, slung diagonally across her body. From time to time she always had to glance at the light inside. It had not yet dispersed, but it was also very faint. Each day she lit many lamp candles, yet they could not make it grow any brighter.

Xu Hexue.

She recalled this name of his.

The year the nineteen-year-old young general accepted his sentence and died in Yongzhou, Ni Su was only one or two years old. In her childhood she had actually heard this name—in storytellers’ mouths, he had a green face and protruding fangs, fierce as a malevolent spirit, defecting to the enemy and betraying the nation.

Ni Su’s impression of this name had once stopped there. But from that miscellaneous record of Meng Yunxian’s, she read of his past before all those crimes were laid upon him.

The Xu clan of Qingya Prefecture—a great aristocratic family. During the former dynasty when noble houses stood like forests, they too had shared in the glory of governing the realm alongside monarchs. Even later, as aristocratic clans declined over a hundred years, the Xu family maintained strict standards, and Xu clan descendants without exception cultivated both literary and martial skills.

Xu Hexue’s father, Xu Xian, was a calligraphy master of great renown in Great Qi, yet when barbarian iron hooves trampled toward Ping River, he accepted a crisis appointment as Heaven Strategy General, defending the front lines for nearly ten years, delaying the Danqiu barbarians’ plan to use Ping River to penetrate deep into the northern territories for nearly a decade.

Xu Xian died from wounds and illness. After his death, Ping River was breached by the barbarians. Xu Hexue, only seven years old, entered the capital with his mother Lady Zhou and elder brother Xu Qingyu.

The late emperor still reigned then, arranging a marriage between Xu Qingyu and Princess Wenduan. Xu Hexue then lived with his mother in the Princess’s residence.

Xu Qingyu was Princess Wenduan’s Prince Consort and also the Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review at that time.

At age seven, Xu Hexue took Zhang Jing as his teacher. When he was thirteen, his mother died of illness. That year, barbarian troops had already pressed close to Qingya Prefecture. Because his mother’s dying thoughts remained with his father, Xu Hexue carried his mother’s ashes alone back to Qingya Prefecture to bury her together with his father, returning safely to the capital amidst the chaos of war.

At fourteen, he passed the imperial examination with honors, his reputation resounding throughout Great Qi. Just when youth brought triumphant spring breezes, he heard that Qingya Prefecture had been breached by barbarians.

His elder brother Xu Qingyu had been sickly from birth and for years was further troubled by worries over family and nation. By that time his body was already ravaged by illness. Upon hearing of their homeland’s fall, he soon passed away.

On the verge of entering official service, after helping his sister-in-law arrange his elder brother’s funeral, Xu Hexue resolutely journeyed to the frontier, joining General Miao Tianzhao’s Huning Army.

At fifteen, he led seven hundred cavalry at Danyuan, penetrated deep into barbarian rear territories, set fire to barbarian military encampments, and with merely seven hundred men destroyed two thousand barbarian rear guard troops, capturing alive the prince’s son Zerong who supervised the rear battle—tearing open a breach in the barbarian elite forces for Miao Tianzhao fighting at the front.

This battle was Xu Hexue’s battle of renown.

At sixteen, he left the Huning Army to command the Jing’an Army, slaughtering barbarians at Yinma Lake until their courage shattered. He personally killed the barbarian Prince Duoling and reclaimed a thousand li of Yan Pass.

At seventeen, he garrisoned Juhan Pass, making the fortress impregnable as gold and iron. Three battles made the barbarians flee in terror at the mere mention of his name, not daring to advance another step to seize northern Han territories.

At nineteen, he received the title of General Yujie, commanding all three armies of Yongzhou. This year marked both the peak of his reputation and the year his sword-straight bamboo-pure heart fell into the mire.

Yongzhou subjected the young General Yujie to death by a thousand cuts. From then on, it seemed no one remembered that he too had once ridden horses and wielded spears, upholding a pure heart, earnestly protecting Great Qi behind him.

Reading his life story on paper, Ni Su seemed to witness personally the youthful vigor of his past, the shattered halberds sinking in sand of his later years.

The official he became was not the official his teacher had hoped for in his heart.

“Ni Su, I truly, truly want your trust.”

Ni Su pushed open the medical clinic’s main door, suddenly recalling those words he spoke that night. Her hand gripping the glass lamp tightened. After quite a while she remembered to lift her feet toward the rear corridor.

But knocking sounds rang out. Her steps halted.

Ni Su turned back. Outside the door stood a young man wearing a tattered cloak, the hood slightly concealing his pale face, but when he raised those eyes of his, the pupils were larger than ordinary people’s.

Black as ink and cold as ice.

He stepped stiffly across the threshold. The hood loosened somewhat, allowing Ni Su to see his face more clearly.

He actually had no eyebrows.

“I’m looking for Xu Hexue.”

He spoke slowly.

Ni Su startled. Looking at him, she suddenly recalled a rainy day when a young man on the street tried to snatch the steamed buns from her hands. At that time, Xu Ziling had told her: no body hair, abnormal double pupils—this signifies a ghost-birth.