Zhu Qingyu followed Xiong Kun back to the study in the prefecture, while the Zhang household’s chief steward stayed with Prefect Liu in the study.
Seeing the two of them return, the chief steward immediately stood up, his face full of anxiety, looking expectantly at Zhu Qingyu.
Xiong Kun glanced at Liu and stated concisely:
“The Commissioner instructed: release them.”
Hearing that Gu Zhao had ordered their release, Liu didn’t ask further, stood up at once with a broad smile:
“Good, good, good, we shall follow Commissioner Gu’s orders.”
He then looked at Zhu Qingyu:
“This is excellent; the matter is clarified. Madam Zhang, come with me. It’s just a little girl—she could not have done anything wrong. There must have been a misunderstanding. I have always insisted that my wife stay with her, so she wouldn’t be wronged.”
Zhu Qingyu bowed and thanked him:
“Yes, I am grateful for your kindness. When Jingyan returns, my husband and I will come to personally thank you for your generosity.”
Prefect Liu led Zhu Qingyu and the chief steward to the backyard, waving his hand:
“Ah, I didn’t help much. Madam Zhang, your thanks should be for Commissioner Gu.”
He emphasized “should be,” but Zhu Qingyu feigned ignorance and replied:
“You are right, sir. I will make sure to tell Jingyan; we dare not forget the kindness both of you have shown our Zhang family.”
Seeing Zhu Qingyu not respond further, Liu smiled awkwardly, and the group quietly proceeded to the backyard.
As Liu had said, Zhang Ruohua was indeed staying in Madam Liu’s courtyard. Madam Liu had even set a table to host her.
Having been confined for no reason, Zhang Ruohua sat rigidly at the table, hands clenched, neither eating nor speaking. Only upon seeing Zhu Qingyu did she stand up, eyes red and filled with tears, saying simply:
“Sister-in-law.”
Zhu Qingyu stepped forward, took her hand, and examined her from head to toe.
The girl’s fingers were icy and trembling, either from fright or cold.
Fortunately, her hairpins and clothing were intact, and there were no visible injuries—she had not been mistreated.
Finally seeing her, Zhu Qingyu relaxed and led her to Madam Liu:
“My little sister-in-law is young and naïve. She took advantage of your kindness, Madam, and caused a fuss. Please forgive her.”
Madam Liu smiled warmly:
“Miss Zhang is lively and lovely; I could not help but keep her longer. Do not scold her, and come by often when you have time.”
Zhu Qingyu not only came to retrieve Zhang Ruohua but also to ensure today’s incident would not spread. Madam Liu’s words effectively covered things publicly for the day.
On the way, the heavy rain continued, but it had eased by the time they left the prefecture.
As Zhang Ruohua climbed into the carriage, she tried to hold back her tears. Once the carriage departed, she could no longer contain herself, throwing her arms around Zhu Qingyu and sobbing:
“Sister-in-law.”
Zhu Qingyu embraced her:
“It’s alright now, don’t be afraid.”
Though she said it aloud, Zhu Qingyu knew in her heart that Prefect Liu, having initiated this, would not rest until his aims were achieved.
Zhang Ruohua, sobbing, continued to voice her fears:
“Sister-in-law, I didn’t do anything wrong. Why did they target me? Will they do it again?”
Zhu Qingyu stroked her head:
“Ruohua, do not fear. They rely on their power to bully others, not knowing that there are always higher powers. Watch closely—if they anger someone greater, they won’t last long.”
Having observed Yangzhou’s officialdom for years, Zhu Qingyu had seen the rise and fall of power. In a few short years, two prominent salt commissioners had fallen in office. If they angered Gu Zhao, would Prefect Liu still retain his position?
Liu had cunningly involved her—not to curry favor with Gu Zhao, but perhaps to harm him. Even previous assassination attempts might relate to him.
Since Gu Zhao had said he would handle the remaining matters, it seemed that Prefect Liu was included in what would be dealt with.
When powerful figures clash, innocent bystanders suffer. Zhu Qingyu’s role was to follow Gu Zhao’s advice: act cautiously, leaving no opportunity for Liu to interfere or disrupt his plans.
…
Xiong Kun escorted Madam Zhu out. Once the Zhang family carriage departed, he turned to report back to Gu Zhao.
Prefect Liu hurried after him:
“Wait, Xiong Kun, may I accompany you to see Commissioner Gu? Is it convenient?”
Xiong Kun nodded:
“The Commissioner instructed that if Liu has questions, he may ask directly. Please, sir.”
Unlike when Gu Zhao personally received Zhu Qingyu, Liu did not receive the same courtesy.
Though his hair had been dried with a steamer, Gu Zhao, at this hour, was too lazy to redo his hair or change into official attire. Through a screen, he ate his evening meal while addressing Liu:
“Liu Wenhui, you have quite the audacity.”
Liu had come at this hour to observe Gu Zhao’s reaction—whether he was satisfied or angered.
Although he could not see him directly, through the screen, Gu Zhao’s words suggested irritation—but if carefully noted, his tone lacked true anger. Liu realized he had gauged Gu Zhao’s stance correctly.
A superior’s approval, though hard to discern, implied tacit consent when not opposed.
Some matters, delicate and unseemly, require subordinates to understand the superior’s intentions and handle them appropriately.
Liu knelt, speaking earnestly:
“My loyalty to Commissioner Gu is evident to Heaven. The Commissioner labors day and night for the nation and its people. I merely wish to share a fraction of that burden.”
Gu Zhao’s tone remained calm:
“Oh? Sharing the burden? Pray tell, Liu, what troubles does Gu Zhao have, and how do you propose to relieve them?”
Liu’s voice became even more earnest, as if willing to bow on the spot to prove his devotion:
“A refined lady is sought by a gentleman; it is natural. With your status and talent, sir, whoever you desire is fortunate indeed. Why should you trouble yourself? Your concerns are mine as well. I am willing to share your burden. As this villain, I will ensure that those you seek not only comply willingly but are also grateful to you.”
For a long moment, there was no reply from the other side of the screen.
Confident at first, Liu grew anxious with the silence, cautiously peeking toward the screen.
The shadow beyond the screen remained motionless.
He wondered if he had spoken unclearly or perhaps too clearly, causing Gu Zhao to deliberate.
Kneeling for so long, his knees began to ache. Just as doubt crept in, Gu Zhao’s voice returned, and with a single sentence, it lifted Liu from self-doubt to ecstatic joy:
“Continue.”