From the moment I took off my official robes, I have shared the same burrow as the ants…
Song Yinbing was a native of Liangjing. For generations, his ancestors had been scholars, but by his father’s generation, the family fortunes had declined. His father died of old age while serving as a ninth-rank archivist at the Imperial Academy, one of the lowest official positions. Most of the men in the clan spent their lives failing the imperial examinations.
Only Song Yinbing stood apart.
As a youth, he passed the metropolitan examination and earned the jinshi degree. He spent a year as a junior compiler at the Hanlin Academy before catching Zhao Heming’s eye and entering his tutelage, where he devoted himself to the study of criminal law.
Song Yinbing was by no means untalented, yet in Liangjing’s official circles he belonged to a group everyone looked down upon—the so-called “Pastoral School.”
He was poor at socializing, avoided factions and political associations, and regarded fame and profit as fleeting clouds. Even though he came from Zhao Heming’s school and could theoretically reach the highest levels of government through Zhao Hanyuan, the Grand Secretary who headed the Cabinet, he never once used those connections to advance his career.
Like his father, he had spent more than a decade in office and was still circling between minor official posts.
Even Jiang Huiyun worried for the young man, but Song Yinbing remained exactly the same.
Whenever he had free time, he would go fishing in mountain streams.
And it was because of those fishing trips that he came to know He Liru, the Minister of Revenue.
He Liru was one of the empire’s model officials.
He had devoted his entire life to public service, exhausting himself for the welfare of Great Liang until he rose to lead a ministry and oversee the nation’s finances.
Throughout his life, he had only one wife.
Together they had a single daughter named Yinglian.
Amid spring mountains and gentle breezes, this distinguished statesman—whose hair had turned white from worrying over Great Liang’s finances—met a refined and upright judicial official.
They discussed literature and poetry, shared tea, and watched fish together.
A friendship spanning generations gradually formed between them.
Several years later, after his wife Madam Liu reminded him, He Liru finally remembered the long-neglected matter of arranging his daughter’s marriage.
The moment the idea of taking in a live-in son-in-law arose, he asked Zhao Heming to act as matchmaker.
The He and Song families quickly concluded an engagement.
Once Yinglian came of age, the marriage could be celebrated.
Yinglian had been mute from birth.
She could not speak, but her calligraphy was exceptional.
She and Song Yinbing exchanged poems and essays through letters.
Although the formal marriage rites had not yet been held, their minds had already met through brush and ink.
No matter how one looked at it, it was an excellent match.
Then came the tenth year of Fengming.
Madam Liu murdered her husband.
The He family collapsed overnight.
Abandoned by her clan, Yinglian took refuge in Tianji Temple.
From that point onward, she refused to see Song Yinbing.
The marriage arrangement was suspended indefinitely.
Originally, Song Yinbing had lived with his mother, younger brother, and the rest of his household in the Song family residence beside Tianji Temple.
After the great fire at Tianji Temple, most residences along the South Moat were temporarily sealed off by the Military Patrol Office.
Fortunately, Jiang Huiyun had always looked after Zhao Heming’s students.
Seeing that Song Yinbing’s elderly mother and young brother had nowhere to stay, she ordered three vacant rooms behind the Zhao residence cleaned and prepared for the family to use temporarily.
Now, however, Song Yinbing was gravely injured.
After Zhang Yao’s kick left him coughing blood and unconscious, Jiang Huiyun was beside herself with worry and summoned an imperial physician to the residence overnight.
Li Hanzhou’s so-called “severe punishment” was only one step removed from execution by caning.
Though Song Yinbing had already regained consciousness, his fever remained high and his body continued to convulse.
The imperial physician had seen such injuries many times before and was no longer surprised.
But Song Yinbing’s mother and younger brother had never witnessed anything like it.
Watching him suffer while being powerless to help, they could only cling to one another beside the bed and weep uncontrollably.
The sight filled Song Yinbing with anguish.
Lying face-down on the couch, he repeatedly begged Jiang Huiyun to take them outside.
Zhao Heming sat beside Song Yinbing’s bed, personally helping the physician restrain the young man as his body convulsed.
“How did you answer me yesterday at the ministry office?”
Struggling, Song Yinbing forced himself upright and knocked his forehead against the pillow in apology.
“Teacher… this student has failed you.”
The physician quickly pressed him back down.
“Minister Zhao, please allow him to rest first. If the medicine spread across these wounds gets rubbed off, all our work will be wasted.”
Zhao Heming said nothing further.
Only then did Song Yinbing lie back down.
After applying another round of medicine, the physician packed away his medical box and rose to bow.
“I have already received Minister Zhao’s kindness several times. I will waive my consultation fee. As for the prescription to regulate his internal injuries, allow me to consider it carefully outside before sending it over for your household to prepare.”
Zhao Heming rose and returned the bow.
“Thank you. May I ask, physician—at his age, coughing blood like this… does it threaten his life?”
The physician glanced at Song Yinbing again and smiled bitterly.
“The injury from the kick to his chest did not strike any vital area. The dangerous wounds are the cane injuries.”
“Fortunately, the damage stopped at this point. Had he received a few more blows, and the internal heat and toxins reached his heart…”
He paused.
“I’m afraid he would already be dead.”
After speaking, he sighed and went outside to write the prescription.
While Jiang Huiyun comforted Song Yinbing’s mother and brother outside, Zhao Heming signaled for the servants to shut the doors and windows.
Then he sat down once more.
“You were used by the Censorate and the Six Offices.”
Song Yinbing coughed.
“I understand…”
Zhao Heming sighed.
“The Six Offices supervise the Six Ministries and all government agencies. The Censorate investigates corruption and misconduct among officials throughout the empire. They are censors by nature.”
“When men like them are caned at Shenwu Gate, their reputations spread throughout the realm.”
“But you are an official of the Ministry of Justice. You shoulder the ministry’s responsibilities. An honest reputation is not earned beneath a cane.”
“Now look at what happened. The officials from the Censorate and the Six Offices traded a few wounds for great prestige.”
“And you?”
“You spoke on their behalf.”
“You shouted that Heaven was punishing the empire.”
“What did you gain?”
“You nearly got yourself beaten to death by His Majesty!”
Slowly, Song Yinbing raised his face.
His voice caught in his throat.
“Teacher’s lesson… this student understands every word.”
“But I did it willingly.”
Zhao Heming shook his head.
“Why?”
Pain tightened Song Yinbing’s features until even his voice trembled.
“The Military Patrol Office reported… that the fire at Tianji Temple began in Guanyin Hall.”
“All the monks inside died in the flames.”
“Only… only Yinglian survived.”
“Now Tianji Temple is nothing but ruins. No evidence remains.”
“The Military Patrol Office has named her the culprit.”
“And His Majesty… His Majesty clearly intends to close the case through her.”
“She is an orphaned girl…”
“She has no one to rely on.”
“Her life is worth less than grass.”
“Other than the censors from those two offices, who else would speak for her…?”
“So you knelt at Shenwu Gate too.”
Zhao Heming turned to look at him.
“You abandoned the dignity of a scholar.”
“You abandoned your master’s reputation.”
“You knew it was an egg striking a stone, yet you refused to turn back.”
“You truly are hopelessly stubborn.”
Song Yinbing began coughing violently.
His entire body shook.
The fresh undergarments that had just been changed were instantly soaked through with blood again.
Summoning all his strength, he struggled into a kneeling position and bowed toward Zhao Heming.
“Since entering Teacher’s school, I have never made any progress.”
“Xiao Fu has already become a Vice Minister, yet I am still rotating among departmental posts.”
“I have disappointed Teacher for many years.”
“Now I know I am wrong, yet I refuse to correct myself.”
“I ask Teacher… to punish me severely.”
Zhao Heming straightened in his seat.
Looking at the dim shadow cast upon the floor, he remained silent for a long time.
Finally, he spoke.
“How exactly am I supposed to punish you?”
“Yu Lin is like this. You are like this.”
“For days now, your teacher’s wife has devoted all her energy to the two of you.”
He sighed.
“You may not spare a thought for her feelings, but I must.”
At the mention of Jiang Huiyun, Song Yinbing lowered his head onto the pillow without speaking.
His eyes burned.
Zhao Heming continued.
“Since Madam Liu was imprisoned, Yinglian has confined herself within Tianji Temple and refused to see you.”
“As your teacher, I cannot bear to watch my student injure himself and destroy his future over a marriage contract that is already void.”
“Yu Lin is beyond my ability to save.”
“But you and I can still preserve.”
“You must promise me to let go of that daughter of the Liu family.”
“Teacher, you are the umbrella of all officials!”
Song Yinbing suddenly interrupted him.
The words shocked Zhao Heming.
Outside the room, the voices abruptly fell silent.
Inside, candlelight flickered unevenly.
The flame brightened and dimmed beside Zhao Heming’s hand like a breathing person.
Song Yinbing’s voice was earnest.
“When Chen Xinglin was tortured to death by the Garrison Office, Teacher was willing to kneel before the imperial hall with his official hat in hand just to clear his name and seek justice for him.”
“Teacher carries benevolence in his heart and devotes himself to righteousness.”
“Since taking charge of the Ministry of Justice, how many officials has Teacher saved? Hundreds?”
“But why has Teacher never been willing to extend that same compassion to women?”
Why had he never extended that same compassion to women?
Yu Lin had once asked Zhao Heming almost the same question during the interrogation of Madam Liu.
At the time, she had already removed her official robes and wrapped them around Madam Liu’s thin body.
Her long hair hung loose over her shoulders.
Tears in her eyes, she looked at Zhao Heming and asked in a voice filled with misery:
“Why does your benevolence never extend to women?”
Back then, Zhao Heming could not answer Yu Lin.
Now, facing Song Yinbing, he remained equally silent.
Fortunately, Song Yinbing was not Yu Lin.
Seeing Zhao Heming lower his head without speaking, he immediately realized he had misspoken.
“This student… has offended Teacher. I know my fault.”
Zhao Heming shook his head.
Turning one hand over, he gently patted the back of Song Yinbing’s hand.
“Who told you that?”
“Yu Lin?”
Song Yinbing did not deny it.
Zhao Heming sighed with a faint smile.
“That’s exactly how she drove herself onto a dead-end road.”
Song Yinbing nodded.
“But I admire her.”
Zhao Heming neither agreed nor disagreed.
Song Yinbing continued:
“She and Madam Liu were complete strangers, yet she was willing to take off her own clothes to protect her.”
“How much more should I do for Yinglian, when I have already pledged myself to her?”
As soon as he finished speaking, a sound came from the door.
Zhao Heming looked up.
Jiang Huiyun entered alone.
“You should go rest,” Zhao Heming said. “I’ll watch over him personally.”
Jiang Huiyun ignored his suggestion.
Instead, her face showed both joy and concern.
“Xiao Fu has arrived.”
Both Zhao Heming and Song Yinbing froze.
Looking out into the rain-filled courtyard, Zhao Heming frowned.
“Didn’t you say she was still ill?”
“The rain hasn’t stopped. How did she get here?”
Jiang Huiyun answered,
“That Commander from the Northern Garrison Office came too.”
“He’s on official duty and can travel freely throughout Liangjing.”
“I heard the servants report it. His horse has already been led right up to the entrance hall.”
“I wasn’t pleased at first, but seeing Xiao Fu riding on his horse, I let it go.”
Then she turned toward Song Yinbing.
“Yinbing.”
Song Yinbing lifted his head.
“Yes?”
Jiang Huiyun tucked back a loosened strand of hair.
“Xiao Fu says she has a way to help the Liu girl.”
“But she wants to see you first.”
“Your condition right now…”
“I’m fine…”
Song Yinbing hurriedly interrupted.
Jiang Huiyun looked toward Zhao Heming.
“What do you think?”
Zhao Heming withdrew his gaze.
Rising to his feet, he adjusted the bedding beneath Song Yinbing before straightening.
“Let her come in.”
Yet Jiang Huiyun remained standing at the doorway without moving.
A look of confusion crossed Zhao Heming’s face.
Without sparing his dignity in the slightest, Jiang Huiyun said directly:
“Xiao Fu said she doesn’t want to see you.”
…
The night had grown deep.
Outside Song Yinbing’s room, Yu Lin and Zhao Heming passed one another.
Yu Lin stopped and bowed to him just as she had in the past.
Zhao Heming had already walked past her.
Then he turned back.
She was still wearing the plain clothes of an official servant.
The fingers she used to salute were swollen and bruised.
Unable to stop himself, he asked,
“Are you feeling better?”
Yu Lin lowered her hands.
Smiling softly, she nodded.
But she did not answer him.
Turning around, she headed toward Song Yinbing’s room.
“Yu Lin.”
Zhao Heming called after her.
In the rain-drenched courtyard, the two stood facing one another beneath their umbrellas.
His voice was calm.
“You cannot save the Liu girl.”
Yu Lin turned and stepped onto the veranda.
Setting her umbrella aside, she allowed the wind to lift the loose hair over her shoulders.
Her face was pale.
She had grown alarmingly thin.
Yet her voice remained steady.
“I really dislike it when you decide our entire lives with a single sentence.”
“Our?”
“Yes.”
Lowering her gaze to Zhao Heming, Yu Lin said:
“From the moment I took off my official robes, I have shared the same burrow as the ants.”
“I no longer walk the same road as my teacher.”