Zhu Qingyu had been worried. At this hour, Prefect Liu might be unwilling to risk disturbing his superior during a meal to help relay her request.
She thought that if he refused, she could always spend more silver; enough silver could always open a path.
In the end, there was no need for silver. Prefect Liu was very cordial, not refusing in the slightest:
“Of course. Whether it works or not, we should ask. I’ll send someone to notify him. Madam, please sit.”
He called a servant and gave instructions in Zhu Qingyu’s presence. After the servant left, he spoke in a friendly tone:
“Madam Zhang, so you and Commissioner Gu are old acquaintances?”
Recalling their few prior encounters, Zhu Qingyu felt she and Gu Da ren could hardly be called acquaintances, much less friends, and answered vaguely:
“You jest, sir. Commissioner Gu holds a noble position. I dare not presume to approach him without cause.”
Prefect Liu smiled and changed the topic. The steward tried to steer the conversation, flattering the Prefect, but no matter how he tried, within three sentences, Liu would steer the topic back to Gu Zhao.
Zhu Qingyu grew wary. The Prefect’s questions—how she knew Gu Zhao, how long, to what extent—were extremely probing.
Why was he so concerned? What use was this knowledge to him?
Feigning ignorance, Zhu Qingyu began to play dumb, claiming she didn’t know, didn’t understand, or couldn’t recall.
While they spoke, the servant returned from delivering the message:
“Prefect, Master Xiong has arrived.”
Liu’s face brightened:
“Quick, show him in!”
The door opened. A tall, imposing man in an oilcloth coat, hands on a sword, entered—Xiong Kun. He stood like a wall and looked at Zhu Qingyu:
“By order of Commissioner Gu, I am here to escort Madam Zhu.”
Liu, smiling kindly at Zhu Qingyu, said:
“Madam Zhang is truly fortunate. So many come with silver hoping to see him, yet Commissioner Gu rarely receives anyone. Today is rare. Go, and do not keep him waiting—or Third Miss either.”
The steward rose with her. Xiong Kun added, expressionless:
“Commissioner Gu only requested Madam Zhu. No others.”
The steward froze, glancing nervously at Zhu Qingyu:
“Madam… this…”
Zhu Qingyu looked at Xiong Kun and said nothing.
She was seeking a favor and had to lower herself. Commissioner Gu had rules, and she would follow them.
Yet now, the fact that Xiong Kun came to fetch her, specifically mentioning only her, seemed almost deliberate, as if to imply she shared some special bond with Gu Zhao.
Was Gu Zhao orchestrating this scene just to impress the overly enthusiastic Prefect Liu?
Sensing her doubt, Xiong Kun remained silent, not pressing her.
Prefect Liu sipped his tea slowly, not speaking.
For a moment, the only sounds in the room were Liu drinking tea and rain dripping from Xiong Kun’s coat onto the floor.
A sudden clap of thunder outside shattered the quiet, startling everyone.
Liu set down his cup, still smiling:
“Madam Zhang, if it’s inconvenient now, you may wait for Jingyan to return and visit Commissioner Gu then—it would be the same.”
Rationally, Zhu Qingyu wanted to avoid involvement in conflicts between imperial officials. Following her usual cautious approach, she might have found an excuse to leave immediately, as she had done two years prior.
But Zhang Shen would not return for at least a month. She could not leave her young Third Miss locked in the prefecture jail for even one night.
From previous encounters, Zhu Qingyu judged Gu Zhao to be upright and more reliable than Prefect Liu.
She looked at Xiong Kun again:
“No inconvenience at all. I’ll trouble you to lead the way, Xiong Da ren.”
Rain and wind raged without pause.
Xiong Kun led her through covered corridors, turning left and right through two gates, until they reached the yard where a squad of armed soldiers stood guard.
Entering Gu Zhao’s temporary residence, the guards were stationed every few steps—security was tight.
At the main house door, Xiong Kun stopped:
“Madam Zhu, please. He is inside.”
Zhu Qingyu left her umbrella outside and entered. The room was brightly lit but empty, with dinner laid out, steaming and untouched—clearly just prepared.
Although it was May, an incense basket was burning outside, and water could be heard inside, signaling that Gu Zhao was bathing and dining. She had come at an inopportune time.
She did not close the door or move around, remaining at the entrance in view of the guards.
Rain had soaked her shoulders, skirt, and shoes. A draft from the doorway sent a chill upward. She wiped herself with a handkerchief.
Gu Zhao appeared from the inner room, hair wet, holding a towel. Noticing her damp clothes, he maintained a neutral expression, casually pulled a chair by the incense basket, and gestured to another:
“Madam Zhu, please, sit.”
Before she could refuse, he added:
“Madam Zhu, I do not wish to offend. You have come to the prefecture at this hour, so it must be urgent. Forgive my informal appearance; it is not convenient for me to receive guests properly. Are you facing some difficulty?”
He explained why she was alone. His tone and demeanor were polite. Since she was requesting help, Zhu Qingyu felt that hesitation would make her appear petty.
She sat opposite the incense basket and briefly explained:
“Apologies for disturbing your meal, sir. It is urgent. My younger sister went out to buy rouge today, and your soldiers were inspecting shops. She was mistakenly arrested. Please, sir, may my sister be released?”
Gu Zhao, drying his hair, asked without revealing his thoughts:
“Madam Zhu, you have another sister?”
The sudden mix of cold and hot—from the wet doorway and the incense—made her uncomfortable. She replied, crossing her arms:
“Yes, sir. She is my husband’s younger sister—my family’s little sister-in-law.”
Gu Zhao rose, poured hot tea, and handed it to her:
“I see. So it was Zhang Jingyan who sent you? Since she is his sister, and he did not come himself, he sent you to speak on her behalf?”