When Cui Shi unfolded the “secret decree,” he saw only four words written upon it: Act with expediency. Beneath those four words was stamped the imperial jade seal.
Cui Shi was startled and suspicious, turning to Pei Tan: “Lord, what does this mean?”
Pei Tan had already withdrawn the decree, smiling faintly as he looked at Cui Shi: “This is an edict His Majesty entrusted to me, reminding me that in all matters, I may act with expediency.”
It meant that as long as Pei Tan could uncover the truth of the case entrusted by the Emperor Zhongzong, he could use this decree—bearing only those four words—to take any necessary measures, and all officials in Chang’an were required to cooperate.
This decree of merely four words might well carry more weight than any ordinary edict filled with detailed commands.
As a member of the Cui clan, Cui Shi understood perfectly. After a moment’s hesitation, he asked: “Then may I know, Lord Pei, how my Qian Niu Guard should cooperate?”
He dared not even ask what case Pei Tan was investigating—for to ask would be to defy the Emperor’s secret decree.
Pei Tan sat by the table, his fingers lightly tapping the sandalwood surface. “The four city gates are already under strict guard. Those holding second-rank or higher passes may normally pass without inspection. I wish that this group of Hu merchants be separately registered.”
Cui Shi was shocked: “Lord Pei means to say, regardless of rank, all passes should be inspected equally?”
Pei Tan immediately shook his head: “Absolutely not. You need only record the identities and names of those leaving the city, and report them to the Court at once.”
Cui Shi’s expression wavered. He asked: “May I know the reason for this?”
Anything involving the Court of Judicial Review always left one uneasy.
Pei Tan’s fingers moved slightly as he replied: “Tell me, Lord Cui—if someone wished to slip out of the city disguised among Hu merchants, what would be the most concealed method?”
Cui Shi seemed to realize: “A serious criminal intends to escape the city?”
Pei Tan said nothing.
Cui Shi pressed: “If that is so, why not allow me to conduct inspections? If someone truly dares to hide among the Hu merchants, strengthening the gate patrols would surely catch them.”
But Pei Tan forbade inspections.
Pei Tan gazed at Cui Shi with quiet intensity: “Lord Cui, you must follow my instructions—be wary of those carrying passes of second rank or above.”
Cui Shi quickly reviewed in his mind which notorious criminals in Chang’an might be able to vanish among the Hu merchants. The decree seemed all the more strange.
Yet before the imperial edict, Cui Shi hesitated only briefly before saying:
“Your servant… accepts the decree.”
Leaving the Qian Niu Guard camp, Pei Tan’s attendants immediately scanned the surroundings for watchers. If anyone dared follow their master, they must not be allowed to escape again, as that woman had before.
But Pei Tan seemed unconcerned, not even turning his head as he mounted the carriage, ordering them to return at once to the Court.
Once back, Pei Tan immediately summoned Registrar Xing Zuo.
“Registrar Xing, please gather all case files from the past five years involving female prisoners, and bring them to me.”
Xing Zuo had served for nearly 20 years as registrar at the Court of Judicial Review, and was deeply familiar with every aspect of its affairs.
Hearing that Pei Tan wanted to review case files, and specifically asked for those involving female offenders, everyone was astonished. Even Pei Xian, his attendant, was puzzled. Though he followed his master closely at all times, Pei Tan’s thoughts were utterly inscrutable to him.
With Xing Zuo, who was deeply familiar with the Court of Judicial Review, taking charge, the files Pei Tan requested were quickly brought in.
It was precisely because Pei Tan’s request was so unusual—female offenders only. Women committing crimes were rare to begin with, and within a span of five years, fewer than ten cases could be found.
Pei Tan flipped through them at the table. He quickly set aside three cases involving death sentences or women still imprisoned, and focused only on the remaining six.
After studying them for an hour, a faint smile curved at Pei Tan’s lips. He picked out one case file and tossed it to Registrar Xing: “Investigate whether the person in this case is still in Chang’an. If she is, find out where.”
Though he was investigating Zong Huo’s case, Pei Tan suddenly pulled out a file from years ago and wanted to track down someone involved in it. But as Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, whatever he asked for had to be provided.
Xing Zuo opened the file and read it through. It was an utterly ordinary theft case. The defendant was a young woman; the accuser was her neighbor, who reported her to the authorities for stealing his property. Later investigation revealed the accuser had coveted the woman’s beauty, repeatedly tried to harass her, and, when rebuffed, falsely accused her of theft in hopes of taking advantage of her. But the woman was clever and had preserved evidence early on. Thus, the case passed briefly through the Court, and she was released.
Such a simple case, without even a death involved—yet Pei Tan now wanted Registrar Xing to find this woman.
No one could fathom why.
After Xing Zuo left, Pei Xian could no longer restrain himself: “My lord, why suddenly investigate a theft case from years ago?”
Pei Tan replied slowly: “The nature of the case doesn’t matter. What matters is that the person involved was, at the time, a young maiden.”
It was precisely because she was beautiful and young that she had attracted the lecherous neighbor’s schemes.
Pei Xiao still didn’t understand: “So what? Wasn’t it already proven she was falsely accused?”
The false charge had been cleared back then. Why was Pei Tan now seeking this woman?
Pei Tan’s gaze drifted toward the dim window: “Do you remember that carrier pigeon? How could a pigeon from the palace know the way to the Court of Judicial Review?”
The attendant froze, then his eyes darkened.
“If the pigeon knew the Court, it means the person who raised it was thoroughly familiar with this place. But the Court is so heavily guarded—who could know it so well? Only someone from inside. Yet neither you nor I, nor any of the clerks here, would ever do such a thing.”
Listening to his master’s reasoning, Pei Xian grew ever more unsettled.
Pei Tan spoke softly: “Then there is only one kind of person who could have learned the layout and details of the Court—someone who had once been brought here as a defendant… or as an accuser.”
Ordinary citizens had only those two identities that could bring them into such a place.
Since the clerks and officials of the Court were beyond suspicion, naturally, the suspects were among those who had once come here as defendants or accusers.
“But… accusers usually have no chance to linger in the Court. Only defendants who were detained here would have the time or opportunity to sketch out its layout.” Pei Tan’s fingers paused lightly on the table.
The clouded doubts in Pei Xian’s mind suddenly cleared. So his young master wished to investigate female offenders who had once been brought to the Court. But why specifically women—and why the span of five years?
Before this question could even be asked, someone outside came to report: “My lord, the person you sought has been found. She is still in Chang’an, and Registrar Xing has already brought her back.”
Xing Zuo had served as registrar of the Court for twenty years, and not without reason. He knew that if Pei Tan asked him to find someone, it would not be without cause. Since the woman was located immediately and still resided in Chang’an, naturally, she had to be brought back at once.
Pei Tan rose from his desk, walked to the doorway, and said: “Take me to her immediately.”
The woman who was brought in had now married and become a wife. Her hair was styled in the manner of a matron, yet her beauty and grace were still evident. She did not seem alarmed at being summoned to the Court. On her face lingered a gentle smile.
Such a beautiful woman—naturally, the clerks of the Court of Judicial Review dared not act rudely.
When Pei Tan entered the hall, the woman’s gaze met his naturally. She bowed gracefully: “Commoner Zichan’er pays respects to the Minister.”
Pei Tan motioned for her to rise, then instructed Registrar Xing and the attendants: “Leave us. I have words to speak with her alone.”
Thus, apart from Pei Xian, all others withdrew from the hall.
The woman called Zichan’er still showed no panic as she looked at Pei Tan. Her composure was unexpectedly dignified.
Before coming, Pei Tan had already heard from the attendants about her current identity: she was the wife of a tavern owner, helping her husband manage the thriving business. Judging from her attire, she was clearly living well.
Pei Tan glanced at her and said: “I have a matter that requires your cooperation. That is why you were brought here. I hope you will forgive the inconvenience.”
The woman, poised and smiling, replied: “To ease your burden, my lord, is my honor. Besides, Lord Pei is known throughout Chang’an as an upright person (Qingtian).”
This title of “Qingtian” had been bestowed upon Pei Tan when he first took office, for he had shouldered the responsibility of solving the case of Zong Huo’s public murder and successfully sent him to the executioner’s block. Though the case was complex, in the eyes of the common people, it was simple: Pei Tan had upheld justice for them. And since he was newly appointed, the case spread his fame quickly. From the moment Zong Huo was executed at the Meridian Gate, some began to call Pei Tan “Qingtian.”
Pei Tan looked at the woman: “Five years ago, were you accused by your neighbor of theft? Later, you cleared your name, and after being detained at the Court of Judicial Review for two days, you were released.”
The woman’s eyes flickered faintly, but she still smiled calmly: “That did indeed happen.”
Pei Tan nodded, his gaze fixed on her graceful face. After a pause, he said, “Zichan’er is not your true name, is it?”
He spoke as a statement, not a question. The woman was no fool; her eyes shifted slightly. After a moment, she smiled faintly: “And what relation does that have to your inquiry, my lord?”
Pei Tan looked at her: “Of course it is related. The records from five years ago state that you are from Lingnan.”
Her eyes grew deeper: “And if I am?”
Pei Tan paused, then said: “The file records that you are the daughter of a Lingnan Hu merchant and a Han woman. From childhood, you lived in the Central Plains. After your parents passed away one after another, you wandered until you came to Chang’an to survive.”
The woman’s hand inside her sleeve tightened slightly around something, though her face remained serene: “Old matters… I do not wish to speak of them again.”