The main hall of the Jingzhao Mansion is vast. Directly opposite the main entrance, through open windows, one can see people coming and going in the courtyard, with well-trained, tall guards standing in two rows to maintain order.
Initially, the gathered officials sat with hidden agendas. However, as they watched their own children and grandchildren being brought in and escorted toward the dungeons by guards, they began to panic, struggling to force their way out.
The Yiluan Office guards drew their blades, the cold glint of steel pressing against the necks of the officials. Those present who were permitted to attend the ceremony were high-ranking officials who held significant power. Apart from bowing and scraping before their superiors, they had not encountered anyone who dared to be so audacious with them in a long time. Yet, swords have no eyes, and these armed guards did not care for civility or idle talk.
Watching the scions of noble families being led one by one into the dungeon, everyone thought in terror: “Who exactly have we offended?”
“Lord Jia, say something! Everyone usually looks to you for leadership. What is His Majesty trying to do today? You should at least give us a hint.”
“Exactly! There is no reason to forbid us from leaving. Please, speak to His Majesty. We really did not do this; why arrest us innocent people instead of the true culprit?”
Amidst the clamor, the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor approached from afar.
The man who entered carried the scent of blood and cold air. The sword hanging obliquely at his waist swayed with his gait. He scanned the ministers and recited several names, those whose children and grandchildren had just been led into the dungeon.
“Gentlemen, His Majesty requests your presence.”
His chilling gaze swept over them, and several ministers looked to Jia Liang for help. Jia Liang did not react. He had no idea what was going on. Even if these people were allies, he was powerless in this situation. If this was aimed at them, it was aimed at him, and eventually, it would reach him. Acting rashly to plead for mercy would only land him in a trap.
The floor of the main hall is paved with blue square tiles. A one-foot-high wooden dais in the center is surrounded by four pillars. Beside the judge’s gavel are two types of command tallies. In front of a wall painting symbolizing peace and prosperity, Song Nanqing sits upright. He touches the inkstone, his expression grave.
The farmer, forced to kneel in the center, has his hands bound. Judging by his appearance, he has undergone some interrogation; he is now shivering uncontrollably like a frightened cicada, kneeling on the floor.
“Repeat exactly what you said before: who instigated you to report this good news about the two-headed cow today?” Song Nanqing strikes the gavel. His clear voice is lowered, carrying an indefinable sense of pressure.
The farmer stammers, “On the day of the Xi family son’s wedding, I, as a tenant on the Xi family’s estate, brought local produce and pheasants to offer congratulations. I provide game and small trinkets to the young masters every month. That day, the masters were drunk and happy, and they said a lot to me.”
“They told me about the two-headed cow, saying that since the Governor was hosting noble guests today, I could go and try to earn a reward. They said if it succeeded, it would be my own fortune. I did not spread this rumor maliciously; it was their instigation, my lord!”
The official scions detained on the side show expressions of indignation. Some point at the farmer, ready to curse, but they are held down by the Yiluan Office guards.
Song Nanqing rests his chin on his hand, looks at the well-dressed youths, and asks the farmer, “Are these the ones you meant?”
The farmer turns to look in that direction and nods hurriedly, “Exactly.”
Song Nanqing asks, “Do you have anything to say?”
The aristocratic youths, who usually have little substance and know only how to ride horses and play, are clearly panic-stricken.
Song Nanqing raises a corner of his lip, “How about this? Your fathers are pillars of the state. You tell me who the mastermind is. In consideration of your willingness to admit your mistakes, I will deal with you leniently.”
Two rows of guards stand in the hall. The current Emperor is personally questioning them, not to mention the Regent, Shen Heng, sitting to the side, a man whose very name would make them cry as children. Legend says he once beheaded ten enemies in a row and hated disobedient children more than anything. Though they now know these rumors were exaggerations, no child in the capital had ever escaped the shadow of the Regent.
At this moment, the ministers had not yet been brought in; the youths believed their parents were still locked in the dungeon. They spoke over one another, all trying to shift blame, but they were not foolish enough to actually confess.
Shen Heng speaks from the side, “You are a mere farmer. What kind of small trinkets could you possibly have that would make them look favorably upon you, visiting them every month?”
Song Nanqing taps his fingers on the desk, “Wei Jin.”
Wei Jin, standing to the side, bows his head, “Your servant has investigated clearly. This farmer’s wife usually does small business at the market. He also has a younger brother who just took a small official post in the yamen last month, recommended by these young masters.”
As soon as Wei Jin approaches, the farmer trembles, wanting to run. Wei Jin stands by his side, “Spreading rumors of a two-headed cow is an act of treason. By pushing you out to spread this, they are harming you. If you are wise enough to name the mastermind, His Majesty will handle this fairly. Otherwise, you saw the conditions in the dungeon. Not only you, but your entire family will be beheaded for treason.”
Song Nanqing picks up a black command tally with two fingers, twirls it, and says lazily, “Still waiting for them to save you? Do you see any intention on their part to help? Stop wasting time with him. Cut off two fingers, and he will say everything.”
“Don’t do it here; it will dirty His Majesty’s eyes,” Shen Heng adds.
Wei Jin acknowledges the order and moves to drag the man away. The farmer shrieks, clutching the cushion on the ground in a desperate attempt not to let go, crying out, “No! I will talk. I will tell you everything.”
The walls of the Jingzhao Mansion are thick. Sounds from the dungeon do not travel up, nor do they travel out. When the summoned ministers passed through an archway covered in ivy and saw their own children held by the guards, they could not hear a thing from a distance. As they rushed toward the main hall to enter, they collided with a tall, slender figure from the side.
The man looked equally anxious. Even after being knocked over, he only brushed the dust off his clothes and immediately began walking toward the hall.
“Who is this? Not even a word,” the Minister of War says after being ignored, watching the man’s retreating back.
“You arrived at the capital later and haven’t had much contact with him. This is Xi Wenkang. He was exceptionally talented in his youth, but he spoke imprudently and offended the late Emperor, leading to his dismissal. He has been living in retirement ever since,” a person nearby explains, then adds in confusion, “However, he has been out of the public eye for a long time. Why would he come here?”
Inside the hall, Song Nanqing wears a dark blue robe trimmed with cloud patterns, a black belt cinched at his waist. He sits at the dais, watching the ministers who are bowing to him one by one. Finally, his gaze lands on the slender figure in the corner.
“The situation is as such. I did not know that buying official positions had become so commonplace. In the eyes of you young aristocrats, it has become a tool for hoarding wealth, to the point where such treasonous rumors that endanger the court are spread!” Song Nanqing asks Wei Jin to briefly explain how the farmer bought an official position for his brother, and he frowns in anger.
It is one thing that these people are unlearned; relying on the power of their fathers and brothers, they could insert anyone into the bureaucracy as a minor official to siphon off profits. Each of them is the apple of their family’s eye. Arranging a position is effortless, but behind the scenes, they accept huge sums of money to squander. Since the salary for civil officials in Great Sheng is meager, those who remain incorruptible are truly left empty-handed.
That day at the Xi family wedding, they drank too much and spoke nonsense about ancient legends. The gift-bearing farmer really heard it and tried to curry favor with the noble guests to advance his prospects, never expecting that he would hit a sore spot and almost cause a catastrophe that would divide the nation.
Song Nanqing lowers his voice, “I just wonder if this matter involves only these young people, or if you gentlemen have offered your tacit approval?”
His meaningful gaze sweeps over them, and a thin layer of sweat breaks out on their backs. Usually, Jia Liang would be here to preside. The power of these aristocratic clans was guaranteed by Lord Jia. At worst, there was Wang Qian, who would talk incessantly to defend their common interests. But now, neither is here. Accustomed to being sheltered, they can say nothing but offer repeated apologies, claiming they absolutely had no intention of treason and that the two-headed cow rumor was merely the foolish talk of their juniors.
“Intentional or not, I was skeptical when Chen Liwen suggested reforming the imperial examinations. But now it seems that if things continue this way, aristocratic children will remain unlearned, relying on family heritage to easily secure offices, leaving them no need to work hard or acquire real talent. For the individual, it is certain they will grow up to be useless; for the family, it is a burden; and for the court, it is cultivating a group of parasites.”
Song Nanqing flicks his sleeves.
“Do not talk to me about being young and ignorant. How many of you present are younger than the Emperor?” Hearing the clamor of the ministers’ defenses, Shen Heng speaks up. “Those who are young are not all ignorant; do not push the responsibility onto the children when you have taught them poorly. The involved youths are confined to their homes for three months, and their fathers and brothers will have their salaries docked for half a year. Any objections?”
Shen Heng sits in a side chair under a towering painting of the sun over Mount Tai. As soon as these words fall, the room goes quiet.
Three months later is the day of the imperial examinations. Once this decree is issued, those involved in the Xi family banquet will be ineligible for this round, and for the next one, they will have to wait another three years.
“Before, the Censor Chen Liwen submitted a draft for the examination reforms to the Ministry of Rites. I have always considered that you are all pillars of the Great Sheng, and your children should be protected, so I never implemented it. But now, do you have anything else to say?” Shen Heng interrupts the Junior Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue who tries to speak. “I know what you are about to say; it is still about money. They privately accepted so many bribes. The Emperor is kind-tempered and only punished them with a small warning regarding the rumor. If we really pursued it, do you think simple confinement would be the end of it?”
Shen Heng’s authoritative voice echoes in the spacious room. Although he is not sitting in the seat of honor, he speaks on all critical matters. Song Nanqing swings his sleeves while playing with the command tallies on the table.
“Today’s matter is known only to those present. I don’t care how much profit you made from buying official positions. You will make up the funds required for this imperial examination reform, and then this matter will be considered closed. Three years from now, your juniors can sit for the new examinations. If not, go back and sit in the dungeon.” Shen Heng’s words are direct and crude. While maintaining a calm, scholarly demeanor, his tone is that of a bandit leader making a direct threat.
Song Nanqing turns his head to look at Shen Heng and claps silently in his heart.
At this moment, Xi Wenkang, who had been standing in the corner without a word, speaks up, “Your Majesty, today’s events occurred at the Xi family banquet. The Xi family cannot shirk responsibility. I am willing, on behalf of the Xi family, to donate funds for the repair of the examination grounds, as a gesture of sincerity toward the court.”
He had heard at home that the noble youths invited to Xi Jian’s wedding had been taken away for interrogation. His younger brother, Xi Jian’s father, was away on inspection and could not return, and Xi Jian had gone with his bride to her family’s home. Fearing that this would bring disaster to the Xi family, he had rushed to see what had happened.
Song Nanqing looks down at him. This man, whom his mother had written about in her letters, truly possesses a bearing different from others and remains unmarried to this day. If his mother had not been forced into the palace by her father and brothers, she might have lived a much happier life. But then again, he would not exist.
He unobtrusively studies Xi Wenkang for a moment and says, “The Xi family possesses such integrity; it is truly refreshing to see.”
“I have heard before that you are skilled in construction and drafting. Is that true?”
This is the first time Xi Wenkang has seen the current Emperor. Since his dismissal, although his brother remained active in court, he himself had been in seclusion for a long time. This young Emperor is the son of the former imperial consort, Jia Xian. He never expected that he would be the one to become Emperor.
Song Nanqing’s features bear the likeness of his mother; the slightly upturned corners of his eyes are a direct inheritance from Jia Xian. Xi Wenkang does not dare look too long and hurriedly lowers his head to reply, “I have only studied it slightly; I am not what one would call skilled.”
He had once overseen the construction and repairs of the Hanlin Academy and served in the Ministry of Works. After retiring from public office, he designed gardens for others. In his youth, everyone praised his talent, calling him a genius. People even said the prodigy Xi Jian had inherited his uncle’s gift. It was only one wrong step that earned the late Emperor’s disdain, leaving him to live in idle retirement.
Song Nanqing nods, “Slight study is enough. Since you have donated money for the repair of the examination grounds, only you can personally plan it so that I can ensure every coin is used where it should be.”
“The eldest son of the Xi family getting married is a joyous occasion. You could not have foreseen that such matters would arise at the banquet. Since the wedding has just taken place, do not let these controversies cast a shadow on the celebration. You may settle into your duties at the Ministry of Works.”
Xi Jian is also taking the examinations this year. With the Emperor’s words, he will not be implicated in this matter.
Just as the session is about to end, Song Nanqing raises his teacup but does not bring it to his lips. As if suddenly remembering something, he says to Shen Heng, “The other day, when I went to my uncle’s mansion, I saw him setting up small classrooms for students from humble backgrounds. Among the court officials, some teach their children poorly and cause disasters, while others live modestly and bring blessings to the people. It is truly a difference between heaven and earth.”