“Thwack!”
“Thwack!”
By the courtyard wall, two ginkgo trees quietly exerted themselves in the night, squeezing out the faint golden hue they had stored from daylight to dye their leaves yellow. Yet they were disturbed by the incessant striking sounds. As the night breeze passed, they rustled with trivial noises, as if complaining that the courtyard’s owner had disrupted their tranquility.
“Thwack!”
The candle flame flickered as a stone soared over it and struck the courtyard wall a foot behind, emitting a crisp sound.
Another miss.
Zhao Su Rui clenched the two remaining stones in his hand, pursing his lips in dissatisfaction.
This body truly lacked training—devoid of strength and accuracy alike.
A Chi stood nearby, holding a newly made cloak. The faint glimmer of light several yards away was too dim, straining her eyes as she stared.
“Young mistress, the night is deep. Shall we return and find another diversion to pass the time?”
Zhao Su Rui remained silent, hurling the stones in his hand one after another. The last one precisely extinguished the candle flame. He grinned, patted his hands contentedly, and imagined the snuffed-out flame as the extinguished lives of the entire Xie Family:
“Fine, what other amusements do you have?”
A Chi hastily wrapped the cloak around her young mistress, coaxing her with a gentle tone: “I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”
Zhao Su Rui nodded, gazing toward the extinguished candle:
“Today, I merely threw stones. Tomorrow, I shall practice archery instead. Though my aim is poor… no one would know even if I miss.”
The extinguished candle wobbled slightly.
Not due to an earthquake or collapsing stones, but because of the man kneeling beneath it—clad in coarse, tattered clothes, his face bruised and swollen, head bleeding, as if he had been beaten seven times a day in utter misery.
His mouth was gagged, limbs tightly bound, the whole person resembling a “kneeling terracotta figurine,” unable even to struggle.
Zhao Su Rui picked up an account book compiled by A Chi and slowly approached him, smiling as he said:
“No need for fine arrows—just sharp ones will do. After dawn, I won’t need to light candles anymore. I’ll shoot them one by one: first the head, then the eyes, and finally, prying his mouth open to send an arrow down his throat. Then, I can take you all out to hunt rabbits for fun.”
His words were directed at the young maids, but his eyes remained fixed on the “candle holder.”
With the candle above him extinguished, Xie Feng’an watched as “Shen Shiqing” approached step by step, feeling that this woman he had married seven years ago was more terrifying than the whip in Tu Nan’s hand.
“Mmph!”
In the opposite corner, his attendants struggled fiercely but were firmly restrained.
The lantern light from the corridor shone behind “Shen Shiqing,” concealing her former restraint and serenity within her shadow, leaving only heart-palpitating ruthlessness and indifference.
She was smiling.
Yet it terrified Xie Feng’an enough to make him wet himself.
“Mm!” He lunged forward abruptly, collapsing face-down on the ground. A three-foot-long wooden rod was tightly bound against his spine, preventing him from even shaking his head while serving as the “candle holder.” Even prone, he resembled an overturned stone statue.
Xie Feng’an paid no heed to this. Every muscle in his body strained, allowing him to lift his torso an inch before collapsing again, lifting and collapsing repeatedly.
He was kowtowing—kowtowing with all his might.
He couldn’t take it anymore—he’d do anything, just not remain blind, nor die, and certainly not endure such threats and whippings any longer.
Seeing that Xie Feng’an was finally frightened out of his wits, Zhao Su Rui felt some of his pent-up frustration ease. He waved his hand dismissively:
“Tu Nan, have him write a letter to his mother. Since that steward claimed the entire Ning’an Lord Manor believes he’s on his way to Jinyang, say he encountered bandits in Xuanfu who are demanding ten thousand taels of silver from the Xie Family as ransom.”
Tu Nan promptly acknowledged the order.
But A Chi, standing under the corridor eaves, felt uneasy: “Miss, what if they don’t pay and instead report it to the authorities…”
Zhao Su Rui silently recalled the earlier memorial from the Wanquan Regional Military Commission stationed in Xuanfu, which reported rampant banditry around Xuanfu and requested the Ministry of War authorize suppression.
He had approved it and ordered Wanquan’s Zhang Yong to eliminate the bandits within half a month. Minister of War Yang Zhai had additionally recommended Ming Ruoshui, the Executive Officer of the Ministry of Justice who was about to leave the capital for Jiangxi to adjudicate legal cases, to assist in the matter.
“Then they’ll find out the Ministry of War has authorized Wanquan Regional Military Commission to deploy troops to suppress the bandits.”
A Chi didn’t understand.
Tu Nan remained quietly watching her mistress.
Zhao Su Rui stretched his limbs and turned to walk toward the study: “Then have him write another letter, saying Zhang Yong of Wanquan happened to rescue him during the bandit suppression campaign. Impressed by his exceptional talent, Zhang intends to keep him on as an advisor.”
Reaching the corridor, he glanced back at the still-confused A Chi: “With this letter, the Ning’an Lord Manor will naturally send money and goods to Xuanfu. There won’t be many people or items, but the money—likely mostly in silver notes—won’t be small. Tu Nan, take your people and keep close watch, intercept everything along the route from Yanjing to Xuanfu.”
A Chi suddenly understood.
Her mistress was setting bait to catch a fish!
“After Tu Nan secures the goods, immediately arrange for someone to deliver a third letter to Ning’an Lord Manor. Write that after befriending Zhang Yong, he learned Zhang is about to form a marriage alliance with Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice Zhuo Shengquan. He wants to ask Zhang to help the Ning’an Lord Manor connect with Vice Minister Zhuo, which could expedite rescuing his father. Zhang Yong has already shown interest.”
Seeing the young maids looking at him with admiration, Zhao Su Rui felt quite pleased with himself and elaborated on the finer points of his scheme:
“Zhang Yong is known for valuing his troops and loving money—his appetite isn’t small. The Ning’an Lord Manor will naturally learn this if they inquire around. Knowing Zhang is interested, they’ll spare no effort. But the Ning’an Lord Manor is currently crumbling. If they want to send gifts to Xuanfu, they won’t dare make it obvious—probably just a few escorts with several cartloads of goods, maybe even accompanied by a Xie family gentleman for security.”
He rubbed his fingers together: “When the time comes, Tu Nan, take several elite fighters and bring everything back to me—people and carts alike.”
“Yes!”
Zhao Su Rui, thoroughly enjoying himself, felt even the irritability from his monthly condition dissipate. Standing firm in the room, he ignored Tu Nan who was leading people to drag away the Xie family members, and instead looked at the smiling A Chi.
“You mentioned something amusing earlier—is it as entertaining as my scheme?”
“Certainly not.” A Chi hung up the heavy cloak in her hands. “It’s just something you always used to do to pass the time.”
Zhao Su Rui, unusually intrigued, watched moments later as A Chi carefully opened a paper package containing some dark bluish powder.
“When you were uninjured before, miss, you mentioned we should make some new flower blue pigment. This is indigo*. Miss, shall we make colors?”
What’s so fun about that?
Zhao Su Rui lost interest.
Pursing his lips stubbornly, he watched A Chi light another small clay stove, placing a white porcelain bowl containing yellow liquid atop it.
“This is bone glue I soaked during the day.” Knowing her young mistress had forgotten, A Chi explained while working, “We just need to mix the boiled bone glue with indigo paste, grind them carefully, wait for the color to dissolve into the water, then repeatedly settle and purify it. Finally, we take the colored water to boil off the floating glue, then simmer and bake it to eventually make flower blue pigment cakes. You don’t need to do anything, miss, just watch me work.”
Gathering her right sleeve with her left hand, A Chi took a small wooden stick to stir the bone glue in the white porcelain bowl, smiling as she said: “You always used to complain that the colors from outside painting material shops weren’t refined enough, with floating pigments. Indeed, no one was more meticulous than you, miss.”
Zhao Su Rui’s gaze swept past A Chi’s face to the small white porcelain bowl.
When the glue was ready, A Chi put on a pair of gloves already stained mottled with various colors.
There had always been a slightly concave stone slab on the side table in the study corner. Zhao Su Rui originally thought it was for holding vases, even disdaining its rustic ugliness. Unexpectedly, A Chi lifted it onto the desk to use as a tool for grinding pigments.
The white porcelain pestle pressed against the indigo and bone glue, mixing them into paste.
A Chi lowered her head and worked quietly, the room growing increasingly silent.
Zhao Su Rui sat in the wen chair, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table. Beside the table was a plate of shelled pomegranate seeds – he grabbed a handful and stuffed them directly into his mouth.
The indigo paste mixed with bone glue was ground increasingly smooth. A Chi added some water, then said:
“Actually, you really liked the color cakes from Lengjia Studio – not only refined enough, quick to dissolve, and easy to mix colors, though the price was high too. I heard Tu Nan say that when you were at home before, you always saved your monthly allowance to visit Lengjia Studio. The master’s money all went to books, the mistress’s money all went to raising horses, and your money all turned into color cakes…”
As she spoke, her clear tone gradually sank.
The rich blue color seeped into the water as she looked at her reflection.
The Zhaode Emperor felt he had cultivated some patience these days – if any young maid had dared behave like this before him in the past, he would have had them driven out immediately.
Having endured until now, he’d had enough:
“A Chi, if you’re really that angry, that pair of little beasts born from the old beasts are still being dragged outside. Go beat them again. If you can’t manage, I’ll have Tu Nan go beat them again.”
“No.” Her fingers gripping the white porcelain pestle so tightly they nearly showed blue veins, A Chi denied in a strained voice, “Miss has endured all these years, how could A Chi be angry? A Chi can only learn from miss’s former ways to calm my own heart.”
Ah, she’s really furious.
Zhao Su Rui propped his head with one hand, leaning sideways against the wen chair’s cushion.
Looking at A Chi, his gaze then turned to the various bottles and jars on the shelf against the wall.
Shen San Fei had spent these years in just this way—guarding a courtyard of dull scenery, writing, reading, painting, mixing colors, blending fragrances, and training young maids… Did she truly not know that the books she “lent” to the Xie Family would never return? Then why did she hand the books to her married-off maid while insisting on taking them along even when banished to the Zhuangzi?
She knew, yet she could do nothing.
Because she was Shen San Fei—useless in mind, body, and temperament.
Zhao Su Rui understood nothing of inner household affairs, but he knew how to control people. Having discerned the schemes of hundreds of court officials, how could he fail to see that the Xie Family had intended to break her from the very beginning?
Cutting off her contact with relatives severed her external support; “borrowing” her precious books and paintings stripped her of her reliance. And today’s steward, claiming to escort her back to the manor in the name of “the master and madam’s grace”—what a joke! With the Ning’an Lord still imprisoned, did his grace drift out from the jail cell along with his flatulence?
They were certain that Shen San Fei remained ignorant of court affairs, allowing them to manipulate her at will.
How audacious! And how meticulously plotted!
Zhao Su Rui narrowed his eyes, glancing at the few remaining pomegranate seeds in his bowl.
The Xie Family encountered Shen San Fei and resorted to every deceit and trickery.
But encountering him, the illustrious Zhaode Emperor, they would naturally… experience every deceit and trickery in return.
After swallowing the pomegranate seeds, Zhao Su Rui lazily gazed at “Shen Shiqing” in the mirror.
Somehow, she looked much more pleasing than before.
Naturally, it was the influence of his imperial aura.
“Shen Shiqing, oh Shen Shiqing, if you cannot hold onto the foundation I’ve secured for you, you’d be no longer Shen San Fei, but Shen Bai Fei—wasted even in living.”
Casually pushing aside several confessions on the desk, the Zhaode Emperor noticed the topmost one and frowned slightly.
The Xie Family wanted Shen San Fei back because Princess Leqing had requested her help in authenticating calligraphy. This aunt of his truly lived a carefree, reclusive life… Had she sent the invitation a few days earlier, perhaps this entire affair between him and Shen San Fei would never have occurred.
By the courtyard wall, the ginkgo tree had finally taken on its full color. With a sigh of relief, a golden ginkgo leaf drifted to the ground.
“Collect the prettiest of the fallen leaves. I’ll use them for flower stationery,” said Zhao Ming Yin in the Princess Manor in Yanjing City, tucking a golden ginkgo leaf into an ancient text.
The Female Official beside her smiled. “Rest assured, Your Highness, it has already been arranged.”
Zhao Ming Yin nodded. “By the way, any news from the Ning’an Lord Manor?”
“Your Highness, we only know they sent someone to fetch Lady Shen. She will likely return to Yanjing tomorrow. There’s no need for undue concern.”
“I’m not so sure. Send someone to the Xie Family again tomorrow to hurry them along.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
By the lamplight, Zhao Ming Yin retrieved a letter and read it once more.
Only when she set down the extremely thin paper did the bright candlelight reveal the eerie nature of the letter.
It was written in blood—crimson tinged with black.