Shen Shiqing’s plan was actually quite simple—she intended to find a “scapegoat” for Chen Shouzhang, and it should be relatively easy to pick one from among the sycophantic and opportunistic crowd.
But she never expected that the very next day, among those potential “scapegoats,” she would spot a familiar face.
“Your subject, Xie Wen Yuan, pays respects to Your Majesty.”
Shen Shiqing remained silent.
Watching her usually arrogant “father-in-law” kneeling on the ground, she momentarily found herself at a loss for words.
Xie Wen Yuan knelt stiffly in his brand new court robes, not daring to move a muscle.
He only heard a senior eunuch questioning him from above: “This memorial accusing Chen Shouzhang of being a fraud—was it written by you?”
“Yes, yes, it was this humble official! Chen Shouzhang, as an appointed court official, should…”
Yi Ji, the eunuch conducting the interrogation, glanced at the “Zhaode Emperor’s” expression and calmly reminded:
“Lord Xie, before His Majesty, unless you are asked, it’s best not to speak.”
Xie Wen Yuan promptly closed his mouth.
Ever since being stripped of his official position by the late emperor ten years ago, he had become an awkward figure in the capital—”unauthorized to seek audience.” Though he held a noble title, his last audience with the emperor was during the coronation ceremony when the current reign began. At that grand event, despite being a count, he was relegated to a corner.
Without any substantive position, he could only cling desperately to the hereditary title left by his ancestors. The Ning’an Lord Manor had fallen to the bottom rung among Yanjing’s nobility, even inferior to some newly risen general’s mansions.
Year after year, he waited for an opportunity—one that would allow him to restore the Ning’an Lord Manor to its former glory. He had initially hoped to leverage Shen Shao’s daughter to connect with Shen Shao’s former colleagues, but that Shen woman turned out to be utterly dull-minded. Apart from calligraphy, painting, and reading, she showed none of her father’s cleverness and had no aptitude for social interactions, causing him to waste several more years. A few years back, when the eunuch Zhang Wan held great power and was privately called the “Imperial Tiger,” Xie had considered aligning with him. But before he could find a way, Zhang Wan was executed by the emperor, forcing him to seek other avenues. Last year, when the emperor achieved a major victory in the western campaign, Xie suddenly realized that to catch the emperor’s eye, he still needed to establish himself through military merit. Coincidentally, his brother-in-law Feng Youqi had earned military honors, and Xie hoped the latter could give him a boost.
Merely arranging another marriage for his second son—such a matter was utterly insignificant in Xie Wen Yuan’s eyes.
Of course, Xie Wen Yuan wasn’t pinning all his hopes solely on Feng Youqi. For someone like him, desperate to climb higher, the most crucial task was to discern the emperor’s intentions.
This time, when Chen Shouzhang submitted his memorial and the emperor erupted in fury, Xie pondered long at home and concluded that Chen Shouzhang was undoubtedly doomed. But the true brilliance of the timing lay not just in that—the civil officials, from the Grand Secretariat down, all wanted Chen Shouzhang to live and were urging the emperor to act benevolently. In such a climate, by submitting a memorial calling for Chen Shouzhang’s execution, he could distinguish himself and win the emperor’s favor.
Sure enough, less than two days after his memorial was submitted, Xie Wen Yuan—after a full decade—once again gained an audience with the emperor!
Suppressing his excitement, Xie Wen Yuan tightened his dry throat, waiting only for the emperor to question him so he could immediately pledge his loyalty.
While others in the court wanted Chen Shouzhang to live, he alone shared the emperor’s resolve—Chen Shouzhang must die! Not just Chen Shouzhang; if it could restore the Ning’an Lord Manor to its past glory, he would gladly become the emperor’s executioner, targeting whomever the emperor wished dead!
In the span of a few breaths, yet as if countless years had passed, the young emperor seated behind the desk suddenly let out a soft chuckle:
“This memorial of yours claims that Chen Shouzhang is guilty of deceiving the world and the emperor—but how exactly did he deceive the emperor?”
“Yes, Your Majesty’s northern and western campaigns have secured a legacy for millennia, a blessing to Dayong. Chen Shouzhang, as the deputy prefect of Dengzhou, dared to recklessly discuss matters of military and state, seeking nothing but empty fame. In doing so, what position does that leave Your Majesty? He damages Your Majesty’s prestige to pursue his own vain reputation—his intentions are condemnable…”
Xie Wen Yuan delivered an impassioned speech to the polished stone tiles of Zhaohua Yuan, wishing he could tear out his own heart to show the emperor the depth of his loyalty.
A soft drip from the water clock sounded, followed by the noise of a brush being set down.
Xie Wen Yuan abruptly stopped.
He recalled the words of the chief eunuch Yi Ji: if the emperor hadn’t asked, he must not speak.
Behind the desk, Shen Shiqing stood up.
Having inhabited this body for several days, she had grown accustomed to looking down at others, observing the tops of their heads.
“Xie Wen Yuan.”
“Your servant is here.”
“Just now, which foot did you step into the hall with first?”
Xie Wen Yuan froze. After a moment of thought, he bowed his head and said, “Your servant… likely stepped in with the left foot first.”
“Is that so?” The notoriously temperamental Zhaode Emperor clasped his hands behind his back and slowly circled around the desk. “Think carefully. If you’re wrong, you would be deceiving the emperor.”
Slightly lowering her head, Shen Shiqing repeated Xie Wen Yuan’s words with playful emphasis: “His intentions are condemnable.”
Inevitably, Xie Wen Yuan’s body began to tremble.
Cold sweat beaded on his temples.
“Your servant… your servant… might have stepped in with the right foot.”
“If it was indeed the right foot, then your previous statement was a deception of the emperor. His intentions are condemnable.”
Shen Shiqing’s gaze swept over Xie Wen Yuan’s trembling arms; he was nearly prostrate on the ground.
For no particular reason, Shen Shiqing recalled the annual New Year’s banquets at Ning’an Lord Manor. No matter how financially strained they were, the feast always included a slow-braised marmot dish. At year’s end, a Datong marmot could sell for a hundred taels of silver in Yanjing. The manor would serve the slow-braised meat in an enormous soup bowl, steaming with aroma.
In truth, there was only one marmot in the dish, and Xie Wen Yuan, as the head of the household, always enjoyed it alone.
Because she was in mourning, Shen Shiqing did not attend the New Year’s banquet until her second year of marriage into Ning’an Lord Manor. That year, the three-year-old son of the heir made a fuss, wanting to eat the marmot dish. Xie Wen Yuan, who had just been cheerfully offering auspicious greetings, suddenly turned stern and ordered the servants to take his grandson away from the banquet.
“What I give, you may take. What I do not give—every last thing in this manor is mine. You may not take it. Understand?”
Before that, Shen Shiqing had mostly known Xie Wen Yuan as gentle and courteous. It was the first time she had seen him exercise such “authority.”
At sixteen, Shen Shiqing still possessed a touch of naive curiosity. She pondered for a long time but could not understand why Xie Wen Yuan would lose his temper over a bite of food with his three-year-old grandson.
At twenty-two, Shen Shiqing finally understood.
Because Xie Wen Yuan could do it, he did. Those around him were powerless to resist or refute—such is the nature of authority.
Just as now, in the face of imperial power, Xie Wen Yuan was no stronger than a three-year-old child.
“Your Majesty, this subject…” Xie Wen Yuan struggled to keep his thighs from trembling. His inner garments had already become completely soaked in this brief moment.
“This subject cannot remember!”
“If you cannot remember, then weren’t your previous two statements deceiving your sovereign? Do you have two heads for me to behead? Two hearts for me to execute?”
The fragrance of osmanthus blossoms wafted through Zhaohua Yuan. Raising her head to gaze at the high, azure sky beyond the doorway, Shen Shiqing couldn’t help but take a deep breath.
She had learned something new once again.
In this world, no authority surpasses that of the emperor.
“This subject… this subject…” Xie Wen Yuan couldn’t catch his breath, his vision went dark, and he directly collapsed unconscious on the ground.
Shen Shiqing watched indifferently as he was dragged away. She had merely questioned him from a position of greater authority, yet this self-important Ning’an Bo had proven even less resilient than a three-year-old child.
Using others’ flesh and blood as stepping stones for advancement, decorating one’s own inadequacies with others’ lives – Xie Wen Yuan had done such things seven years ago. It was just that Shen Shao had already died back then, while Chen Shouzhang remained alive today. When it came to his own life and property being threatened, he truly possessed not an ounce of moral courage.
Such a person, used as a scapegoat for Chen Shouzhang, would certainly be deemed unworthy in the eyes of the Zhaode Emperor.
Shen Shiqing shook her head in disappointment:
“Ning’an Bo Xie Wen Yuan has shown disrespect before the Imperial Presence. Confine him and let the Court of Revision determine his crimes. Bring in the next one.”
Yi Ji observed his imperial master’s cold expression. While going to summon the next audience, he mentally noted that when he had just stepped out of the hall, he had used his right foot first.