When Wei Ling returned to the study, his face was dark and unreadable. Bai Yi dared not step forward to serve him; he only placed the medicine pills on the desk and quietly withdrew to the side.
Wei Ling paced back and forth across the room—walking to the door, then turning back, sitting down only to rise again. His expression was so heavy it seemed it could drip water.
Bai Yi had never seen him like this. In his eyes, his lord was always calm and rational. No matter how dire the situation or how severe the injury, he never easily revealed his emotions.
So what was happening tonight? Earlier, when he came back, hadn’t he seemed fine?
When Bai Yi asked if he wanted dinner set out, he refused, saying he would eat in the rear courtyard. Yet once he discovered that Madam had not returned, he ordered the kitchen to prepare dishes anew according to his instructions. He had looked to be in quite good spirits.
Bai Yi had even thought that if his lord chose to sleep in the rear courtyard again tonight, then he himself would be spared the night watch. He glanced outside. By now, it was likely close to the hour of Hai; time to rest.
“Does my lord wish to retire?”
Wei Ling answered with a question instead: “Bai Yi, what did Madam do when she went out today?”
Bai Yi’s heart eased—thankfully, he had asked the two young servants earlier. “Madam went to the cloth shop on Yongxing Lane and met—” He stopped abruptly, sneaking a glance at the man above him.
“Met whom?”
“This…” Bai Yi faltered. “The servants weren’t clear. They only said Madam had saved someone some days ago, and today she went to see him. Afterward, she strolled the streets, bought some cloth, and then returned to the residence.”
Wei Ling’s sharp instincts flared. His gaze was piercing as he nearly ground his teeth: “A man?”
“Yes.”
At once, Bai Yi felt the air in the study congeal, trapping him so he could not move.
Wei Ling kept rubbing the teacup in his hand. He said not a word, yet Bai Yi knew this silence was the most terrifying of all. He bitterly regretted not training in martial arts back then—if he had, it would be Bai Ze standing here tonight, not him. He did not know how much time had passed before the man at the desk finally spoke: “Leave.”
Bai Yi let out a long breath of relief, but before leaving, he still reminded softly: “Master, today is the fifteenth.”
“Go.”
“Yes.”
The Court of Judicial Review.
That day, Wei Ling presided as chief judge over a case of “a commoner suing an official.”
The commoner was a tenant farmer from the outskirts of the city; the official was the Minister of Agriculture. Yet the minister himself did not appear, sending instead a minor clerk to deal with the matter.
The case itself was simple: the tenant had farmed the land for over ten years, but the landlord suddenly reclaimed it and, without reason, destroyed the crops the farmer had painstakingly grown for the season.
The farmer first brought the complaint to the Minister of Agriculture, but the minister dismissed it, claiming the landlord acted with justification. Unconvinced, the farmer went directly to the Drum of Justice before the Shuntian Prefecture, beating it for four or five days. In the end, he received only the reply: “This matter is not under the jurisdiction of Shuntian Prefecture.”*
Neither the minister nor the prefecture expected that what should have ended there would now be taken up and formally tried in the court.
According to the laws of the Eastern Xia dynasty, when the people present a petition with evidence, officials are bound to accept it.
But over the years, this statute had become a dead letter, long forgotten by the populace. Most grievances were endured in silence.
Of course, there were always a few who insisted on defending their rights—like this tenant farmer. Some even managed to bring their cases before the Emperor himself, though that required extraordinary persistence and luck.
On this day, however, the Minister of Agriculture paid the matter little heed. As in the past, he expected it would be nothing more than a formality, ending at most with monetary compensation to appease the farmer.
The public hall held only a handful of people. Wei Ling sat above, calm and expressionless, following the procedure to examine the evidence and question the parties. After the tenant farmer finished his detailed account, Wei Ling turned to the landlord, who naturally spoke with righteous confidence, refuting everything the farmer had said.
Seeing Wei Ling nod repeatedly, both the landlord and the clerk already wore triumphant smiles.
“My lord, you mustn’t listen to this scoundrel’s lies. The lease term has clearly expired. What fault is there in reclaiming what rightfully belongs to me?”
The tenant farmer looked from the landlord to Wei Ling, who kept his head lowered over the case files. Disappointment welled up so strongly that he no longer wished to speak.
After a while, Wei Ling raised his head and asked the clerk evenly: “Has Lord Xu personally reviewed the land lease agreement? Was it truly expired?”
“I myself verified it. It had indeed expired.”
“Oh? Truly?”
That single counter‑question made the clerk tremble. He steadied his breath before replying again: “Yes, my lord. I would never speak falsely.”
Wei Ling gave a faint laugh and said slowly: “Then it seems the post of Minister of Agriculture is something any stray cat or dog can handle.”
Before anyone could grasp the meaning of his words, Wei Ling barked sharply: “Bai Ze!”
A man stepped forward from behind Wei Ling, approaching the landlord and the clerk, and handed them a dossier.
The two opened it in confusion, but after only a few pages, their faces turned deathly pale.
Inside were detailed records of the landlord’s bribes to the Minister of Agriculture—dates, places, amounts, all meticulously listed. Another dossier contained the account of how, two years earlier, the landlord colluded with an official to alter the lease agreement. That official had already confessed everything.
“Greedy beyond measure,” Wei Ling snorted. “Guards, take them both to prison. Once the matter is fully investigated, they will be punished according to the law.”
The soldiers immediately seized them. The clerk cried out: “Lord Wei! Lord Wei! Do you not fear offending the Minister of Agriculture by doing this?”
The landlord kept shouting his innocence, but Wei Ling waved his hand, and the guards dragged them away.
The tenant farmer finally realized what had happened. Kneeling on the floor, he knocked his head against the ground, crying out that Heaven had eyes and praising the lord’s fairness.
Wei Ling rose to his feet, gave a brief instruction to the registrar, and then departed.
Behind the public hall, the Minister of Judicial Review, Chen Xiao, who had listened to the entire trial, called out to the young man passing by. “Yuchuan.”
Wei Ling stopped and bowed respectfully. “Lord Chen.”
“Come, walk with me.”
The two walked together toward the inner court.
Chen Xiao spoke: “Where did you find those pieces of evidence today? I’ve never seen the men below handle a case so swiftly.”
This was a question Chen Xiao had long wanted to ask. Wei Ling’s speed in handling matters was far beyond the usual pace of the court.
Wei Ling smiled faintly. “Naturally, all the evidence was gathered by the Court of Judicial Review. But once the direction is clear, there’s no need to waste time.”
Chen Xiao was momentarily at a loss, then laughed. “Are you saying the court handles cases without direction?”
“Yuchuan would not dare,” Wei Ling replied with a bow.
When Wei Ling had first been suddenly assigned here, Chen Xiao had his doubts. He knew Wei Ling came from the General’s household, but had never heard of any notable achievements—at most, some cleverness. Yet how could mere cleverness qualify him to serve as Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review?
Later, however, Wei Ling proved himself. No one in the temple doubted him anymore. Still, youth is youth—fearless like a newborn calf, sometimes too sharp in his actions.
Chen Xiao, intending to cultivate him, now asked: “Yuchuan, regarding today’s case, have you thought about how it should be handled?”
“It’s nothing more than a minor case. The evidence is complete—handle it as it should be handled.”
“And what do you plan to do about the Minister of Agriculture and the Shuntian Prefecture?”
After all, serving in the court means leaving others a way out, which also means leaving yourself a way out.
Now Wei Ling had offended both sides at once, and one of them was the deeply entangled Shuntian Prefecture. His future actions would surely face obstruction.
Wei Ling stopped walking. Chen Xiao, who had gone a few steps ahead, noticed and turned back. He then heard Wei Ling say: “Lord Chen, I wish to ask—why was the Court of Judicial Review established?”
Chen Xiao was momentarily puzzled.
Wei Ling continued: “The Court of Judicial Review is the supreme authority over criminal law in the realm, standing above county offices and Shuntian Prefecture. In the eyes of the common people, it is the most authoritative institution. By rights, the court should not meddle in these miscellaneous civil disputes. Yet now, every few days, one or two such cases arrive. Why is that?”
“Lord Chen, His Majesty may dwell within the inner palace, and the imperial walls may separate the palace from Shengjing city—but His Majesty is neither blind nor deaf.”
Wei Ling said no more and walked on.
Chen Xiao watched his firm back and could not help but smile. Youth indeed.
That day, Wei Ling returned home early. A summons came from Yin’an Hall, so he went.
Qin Yixian had already gone back to the Qin residence. In Yin’an Hall were only Princess Duanrong, Chen Ruo, and his elder brother’s young son, Xiuli.
The three‑ or four‑year‑old Xiuli timidly called out: “Uncle.”
Wei Ling nodded, then asked directly: “Mother, did you call me here for something?”
“Can’t I call you if there’s nothing?” Princess Duanrong handed the child back to Chen Ruo. “Yujun has been confined for half a month. She’s learned the lesson she should, so I’ve decided to release her.”
“Mother may do as she sees fit.”
“You child—Yujun is your sister after all. She’s angry with you now. You should go see her.”
Wei Ling felt impatient. He had already been unsettled all day, and now his mood was even heavier. Still, he did not show disrespect, only answered coolly: “I still have official duties. It would be inconvenient.”
The atmosphere grew awkward. Xiuli hid in Chen Ruo’s arms, blinking his big eyes at his uncle, likely the only one who did not understand what was happening.
Seeing the tension, Chen Ruo quickly said: “Official duties must come first.”
Wei Ling added: “As for Yujun, please tell her not to trouble her second sister‑in‑law without cause. Otherwise, next time it won’t be just confinement.”
Princess Duanrong was stunned. “What did you say?”
Wei Ling went on: “And in future, Mother, please don’t speak of heirs in front of Ah Xian. It is I who do not wish for children. She cannot be blamed.”
Even Chen Ruo was shocked. Under the astonished gaze of mother and daughter‑in‑law, Wei Ling walked out without looking back.
Princess Duanrong finally reacted, furious enough to smash a cup. Chen Ruo hurriedly sent the child away.
“Mother, calm yourself.”
“Did you hear him? He actually rebuked me for Ah Xian’s sake! And threatened his own sister? Ungrateful son! Ungrateful son!” Her voice trembled with anger.
Chen Ruo rushed to soothe her: “Mother, Yuchuan didn’t mean it that way. Don’t take it to heart.”
“What do you mean he didn’t? Wasn’t he blaming me for what I said in front of his wife? Since when does he care so much for Ah Xian? He even made excuses for her—saying he doesn’t want children. Clearly it’s because Ah Xian’s health is poor.”
Chen Ruo was at a loss. She wondered—since when did Yuchuan speak up for Song Xian?
“What is he thinking? How old is he now? If Ah Xian’s health never improves, does he plan to live his whole life without heirs?” Princess Duanrong pressed on, muttering to herself: “No, this won’t do.”
The anger still lingered in Yin’an Hall. Meanwhile, Wei Ling had already returned to Liuying Pavilion, striding straight toward the rear courtyard so quickly that Bai Yi could barely keep up.
When he saw the courtyard empty and its gates tightly shut, a flicker of panic crossed Wei Ling’s heart.
Finally catching up, Bai Yi explained: “Madam said Madam You of Marquis Suqing’s household is ill. She went back to accompany her for a few days.”
Wei Ling’s panic subsided, only to be replaced by a strange mix of emotions—anger, dissatisfaction, and even a touch of grievance. “Did she leave any message?”
“No, Madam said nothing at all.”