Ordinarily, Situ Sheng appearing in the marketplace of Lianzhou would not be surprising. But when Chu Linlang glanced at the shop where he stood, her face changed drastically.
It was the Full Granary Rice Shop—a business opened by Zhang Xian’s brother‑in‑law, and one of the very establishments Chu Linlang had fabricated in her false accounts, claiming close dealings with the granary.
Surely Situ Sheng had not come on a whim to buy rice himself? Could it be that he had picked up the forged account page and come here to test its truth?
At that thought, Chu Linlang ignored Miss Yin’s tearful pleas. She suddenly rose, claiming she had drunk too much tea and needed to relieve herself, and hurried downstairs. Her plan was to get closer, perhaps pretend to shop at a stall beside the rice shop, and overhear through the window what Situ Sheng’s purpose was. But as soon as she crossed the street, he was gone.
While she looked around anxiously, a deep voice sounded behind her, “Madam, have you lost something again? Do you need my help?”
Startled, she turned—and found Situ Sheng silently standing right behind her. She forced a smile and bowed politely: “What a coincidence, meeting you here, sir.”
His expression was cool, his face carrying a faint courteous smile. He lowered his gaze toward her: “Madam has not yet said—what exactly are you searching for?”
Of course, she could not say, *I’m looking for you, you troublesome man!*
She smiled lightly: “I brought friends here to drink, but the food did not sit well. I thought of buying some small dishes to accompany the wine…”
Her words faltered—because she saw him draw from his sleeve a sheet of paper she knew too well. It was the very page she had lost yesterday!
Her worst fear had come true—he had indeed picked it up. He had held back before Zhou Sui’an, but now confronted her directly, knowing she was only a woman and easier to press.
Yet Chu Linlang quickly calmed herself, blinking innocently, pretending not to recognize the paper.
Situ Sheng, however, knew exactly whose it was. He had seen it fall from her waist when she seized the Sixth Prince the day before.
When the prince had asked Zhou Sui’an about military accounts, the new magistrate had been clueless. Yet his wife carried such a suspicious document.
Situ Sheng had not shown it to the prince. Instead, he had ordered Zhou Sui’an’s household watched, and now appeared “by chance” opposite her tavern. As expected, she rushed down when she saw him.
He wasted no words, holding up the paper before her eyes: “Madam, is this what you are looking for?”
She wanted to deny it, but his certainty made pretense impossible. After a pause, she asked timidly: “Does sir know what this is?”
He smiled faintly, gestured for her to follow, and led her into a quiet tea room his servant had secured.
Once seated, the servant poured tea. Chu Linlang, playing the gracious hostess, used bamboo tongs to place pear slices in a dish and to prepare fruit tea for him.
Amid the fragrance of pears, Situ Sheng spoke slowly: “Twelve years ago, at the frontier, General Yang was defeated at Fushui and killed. His eldest son was captured and surrendered to the enemy. The nation was shocked; Yang’s family in the capital was executed. It was said that the defeat was due to problems with Lianzhou’s supplies. Several corrupt officials were arrested, but the missing silver was never found. The paper you dropped seems to record those very accounts.”
His deep, clear voice made Chu Linlang’s eyes widen in horror, for she had forged the document only to frighten Zhang Xian—using the name of a granary fire from just a year ago. But all those accounts were things Chu Linlang had scribbled at random—small sums, petty thefts by grain officials, nothing more. How could they possibly be connected to the thunderous corruption case in Lianzhou twelve years ago!
This idle tutor was spewing nonsense, forcing her forged paper into the context of a great state affair. Was he trying to make snow fall in June, to fabricate an injustice and destroy her family?
Cold sweat broke out not only on the soles of her feet but across her back. Still, she kept a smile, carefully explaining: “Sir, though I am a woman, I can recognize an official seal. Do you not see that the carving here is not quite right?”
A seal carved from a radish could never withstand scrutiny. Look closely, and the forgery was obvious. Could Situ Sheng truly not see it?
At her words, his phoenix eyes narrowed. He examined the paper, then said: “Madam still refuses to admit it. Do you mean to shield traitors?”
Chu Linlang sighed: “If you do not believe me, allow me to show you.”
She extended her slender fingers, pointing at the seal’s pattern: “See here—the true seal has the motif of a graceful swallow. But here the swallow is fat like a chicken. It must be false.”
Situ Sheng lowered his gaze, holding the paper, letting her delicate fingers trace across it. Her face was beautiful, and her hands no less so—slender, elegant, yet strong.
At that moment, she suddenly snatched the paper, crumpled it swiftly, and stuffed it into her mouth, chewing and swallowing with force.
From start to finish, Situ Sheng did not stop her. His thick brows lifted slightly as he watched her. Only when she began to choke, clutching her throat, did he calmly pick up a pear slice, prepare fruit tea as she had done earlier, and hand it to her with quiet care.
She gulped it down, barely managing to swallow, when he remarked with dry amusement: “Madam is truly talented—able to swallow such a large sheet of paper. Remarkable.”
Had she not been forced, she would never have done such a thing. But since he had seen the forgery, swallowing it changed nothing.
She had forged the account, but not to frame anyone—except Zhang Xian. To others, it was only the foolish prank of a woman. Even as an imperial tutor, he could not condemn her husband on such grounds.
Steadying herself, she said, “You frightened me first, Sir. This was nothing but a silly trifle of mine. If you insist on linking it to a great case of state, then show proof! My husband only arrived half a year ago—he has no connection to those old affairs.”
Situ Sheng smiled. His beauty was striking, his smile dazzling as spring blossoms. Yet his lips spoke words like a judge’s decree: “You have swallowed it. Who can prove it false? If I tell His Highness you destroyed evidence, how will you defend yourself?”
“You…” Chu Linlang faltered.
If he truly intended to twist her petty trick into a state crime, what power did she have to resist?
Tears welled in her eyes. She knelt, choking back sobs: “Sir, you are a dragon among men from the capital. Why torment a weak woman? If I have committed some crime, name the sum. Though I am not wealthy, I will do my utmost to honor you.”
She pulled out a packet of silver: “Please accept this first. I will gather more later.”
If he were only extorting, that was manageable—better to bleed her purse than her life.
Situ Sheng tapped the table with long fingers, staring at her tearful face. Suddenly, he asked: “From your accent, are you from Jiangkou in the riverlands?”
She started. He had asked her the same yesterday. She nodded: “Has Sir been there?”
His gaze sharpened, more piercing than before. Her origin seemed to matter more to him than the paper’s truth.
“Never been,” he said slowly. “But I know a few people from Jiangkou.”
Chu Linlang, anxious to clear her husband’s name, pressed: “I have some private savings. Tell me where you lodge, and I will send more silver.”
Clearly, he was angling for profit. Officials from the capital often came to squeeze the locals. She resolved to pay, hoping he would not demand too much.
But his eyes betrayed no greed. He rose at last, coldly saying: “If you have committed no crime, why be so fearful? I will note this case. In the future, madam, mind your words and deeds.”
With that, he left the tea room.
Outside, boarding his carriage, his servant Guan Qi hesitated: “Sir… she did not seem to recognize you. For safety, should we… remove her?”
Years ago, his master had lived in Jiangkou, quarreling with a salt‑seller’s girl. If she recognized him now, trouble might follow.
Situ Sheng asked calmly: “If you were her, would you recognize me?”
Guan Qi faltered. His master, once sickly and gaunt, now tall and handsome, was unrecognizable—no wonder the girl had not known him.
Situ Sheng continued: “I pressed her hard, even led her to speak of Jiangkou. By nature, had she recognized me, she would have clung to old ties and threatened me with words. She would never have offered silver. That alone proves she did not know me.”