The peeled mung beans were crushed and ground until every particle became fine, smooth, and silky. After adding sugar powder and mixing thoroughly, finely ground mint was incorporated into the mixture. Finally, it was placed into molds, pressed flat, and firmed up. A mung bean cake was now complete.
Song Nanqing felt like a mold stuffed with too much filling, wishing only to overflow. Every movement of the calloused palm against him made his soul drift from his body.
Shen Heng’s bed was massive. The dark curtains were half-drawn, and the dim candlelight flickered shadows across the room. Song Nanqing stood barefoot on the quilt. The dark-green, intricately patterned brocade bedclothes made his skin appear even fairer. His curled toes rubbed against the fabric in unbearable agitation, occasionally tensing tightly, his arches curving like crescents and freezing in mid-air.
Fragile, fragmented sounds escaped through the gaps in the bed curtains. Song Nanqing’s entire body was trembling; his injured hand had been bound by a belt and tied to the head of the bed, leaving him immobile.
His voice rose. His knees pressed into the brocade quilt, twitching. He parted his lips, panting laboriously, his pupils slowly beginning to dilate.
Shen Heng stared calmly at his face. With a slight movement of his finger, Song Nanqing instantly stiffened.
Tears spilled from his eyes, one by one. He shook his head, struggling with all his might. The belt tied to the headboard swayed violently, but his injured hand remained fixed, unable to break free.
Sobs poured out, gradually morphing into unbearable screams. Song Nanqing arched his back in struggle, his cheeks flushed crimson, the quilt caught between his legs becoming tangled and messy.
“Did you say thank you?” Shen Heng’s thin lips parted slightly.
Song Nanqing shook his head, choking, a thread of saliva sliding from the corner of his mouth. He shrieked, “Thank you. Thank you, Teacher. Please, I beg you. Thank you. Please, Teacher.”
His voice, usually clear and bright, had become unbearably hoarse. The belt binding his wrists was twisted out of shape, swinging wildly in the air. Every time Song Nanqing felt he was finally about to reach release, the expectation vanished the next moment. He kicked his legs, his hair a tangled mess, his face wet with saliva dripping onto the brocade quilt beneath him, yet he found no relief.
The mung bean cake on the table was crushed by some unseen force, its powder collapsing into ruin.
“Utilizing me comes with a price, hmm? Remember to say thank you earlier next time.” Shen Heng raised a finger to wipe the saliva from the corner of his mouth. When his index finger brushed against the skin, Song Nanqing trembled violently, but a beautiful, ornate jadeite ring remained fixed against his body, unable to be dislodged no matter how he shook.
For the tenth time, Song Nanqing plucked a petal from the hydrangea in the vase, murmuring to himself. Suddenly, he cradled his flushed face and buried it deep into the crook of his arm.
On the table sat four or five plates of mung bean cakes in different shapes and colors, each exquisite enough, yet he felt they were different from the ones Shen Heng made; they lacked that unique flavor.
Blue-purple petals were arranged in two rows on the table. Song Nanqing poked them lightly with his fingertips. In the sandalwood incense burner, a stick of incense burned halfway, the swirling blue smoke masking his features.
He used a small wooden stick to stir the ashes, the winding trails tracing the strokes of a name.
Footsteps approached. Chun Jian walked up quickly and said to Song Nanqing, “Your Majesty, Wang Dinian has retracted his confession. He says it was Lord Jia and Yao Shun who instigated him to frame the Regent; he does not even know the Regent.”
Song Nanqing turned his head, brows arched. He held the wooden stick, which now rested diagonally in the ash, and asked with his arms crossed, “Is the Regent still in Chonghua Palace?”
Chun Jian nodded. “He has been confined for three or four days.”
“What is the situation at court?” Because Shen Heng was known for his imperial grace and for stabilizing the state, rumors of him attempting to murder the Emperor had sent shockwaves through the court. Song Nanqing had claimed illness and had not attended court for several days.
Chun Jian replied, “Censor Chen says that while the Regent originally had many supporters, due to these days of confinement, everyone is watching from the sidelines. Coupled with Wang Dinian’s testimony, many have begun to impeach the Regent, saying he is cruel, inhumane, and arbitrary, that the Imperial Army is a curse in his hands, and that military power must be divided.”
“Saying he is cruel, inhumane, and arbitrary, that the Imperial Army is a curse in his hands, and that military power must be divided.” Song Nanqing blew on the thin scab forming on his palm and said slowly.
Chun Jian lowered his head. “Your Majesty is infallible, but some are saying things that are not very pleasant.”
Song Nanqing chuckled. “Tell me. It is not as if they are talking about me.”
“The people in the Censorate say that the evidence against the Regent is conclusive, and that your refusal to punish him, only stripping his power and confining him, is due to an illicit and intimate relationship, which is detrimental to the state.”
Song Nanqing’s gaze darkened. He tossed the petals in his hand onto the table. “It seems Chen Liwen still has some use. Come, let us go see this Wang Dinian.”
The Yiluan Office’s prison was dim, the walls covered in brown stains. Song Nanqing wore a deep green robe; his crown, inlaid with five-colored jewels, shimmered in the dim candlelight of the dungeon. His attire was dark, but the gold patterns embroidered on it appeared all the more luxurious in the faint light. His spotless shoes looked out of place on the filthy prison floor.
Wei Jin bowed to Song Nanqing as he approached, his black leather gloves covering his hands up to his wrists, a faint scent of blood lingering on him.
Song Nanqing frowned slightly, distancing himself. With his hands behind his back, he asked, “Wang Dinian retracted his confession?”
Wei Jin turned sideways, guiding him while replying, “Yes. After being interrogated here for a few days, he suddenly changed his statement, denying his previous testimony that the Regent instigated him to commit the crime.”
“But was it not said that the short blade was crafted by the Regent’s estate?” Song Nanqing avoided the filth on the ground as he approached the narrow prison corridor. The jailer carried a ring of long keys attached to a chain. The gaps in the cells were narrow, barely wide enough for a prisoner to stretch out a hand. He saw the guard open a small hatch and throw in a bowl half-filled with rice, mixed with mud and dried grass. The prisoners devoured it greedily.
They reached the innermost cell. The door was unlocked. A tall man lay sprawled in the corner, half his meal spilled on the floor. He was breathing heavily, his neck stretched high, blood-tinged foam bubbling from his mouth.
Wei Jin opened the door and said to Song Nanqing, “The short blade indeed bears the mark of the Regent’s estate, but Wang Dinian has both confessed and retracted. He just said that Lord Jia Liang instructed him to frame the Regent and begs the Emperor to preside over justice, otherwise he dared not speak the truth. Then he fainted.”
“The Emperor is here. Wang Dinian, whatever crimes you have, confess them now. With the Emperor present, no one can force or threaten you into perjury. But if you dare to lie again, it is a capital offense punishable by the extermination of your clan.” Wei Jin’s gaze was icy as he stared at the man on the ground.
The dungeon was eerie. In the dim light, Song Nanqing felt something was wrong with Wang Dinian. He opened his foam-filled mouth, but after a long time, not a single syllable came out.
“Is he a mute?” Song Nanqing asked coldly, glancing at Wei Jin.
Wei Jin was startled. He stepped forward, pried the man’s jaw open, and examined his condition. He discovered that the man’s vocal cords had been scorched, rendering him unable to speak.
Wei Jin knelt on one knee, pleading for mercy. “It is this servant’s negligence, but half an hour ago, he was still able to speak. Please, Your Majesty, forgive me.”
Song Nanqing swept his gaze over the spilled meal. “Someone is determined to frame him; it is difficult to guard against. Stand up.”
Wei Jin hesitated for a moment. “I will go and investigate thoroughly who poisoned the food. But how should this case be concluded? Your servant is dull; I request Your Majesty’s instructions.”
Wang Dinian was still shivering in the corner. The case involved the attempted murder of the Emperor, a framing by the Chief Councilor, and treason by the Regent. Yet, the instigator behind such a massive conspiracy was this seemingly insignificant man, churning up the turbulent clouds of the court.
Song Nanqing took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands, eyes narrowing. “A case that cannot be concluded is the best result for this case. Wei Jin, do you understand?”
The thin handkerchief, carrying the lingering fragrance of the incense from the inner palace, slipped from Song Nanqing’s fingers, brushed against Wei Jin’s knee, and fell into the dust-covered ground.
Wei Jin shuddered, clutching his sword. His gaze toward Song Nanqing changed, tinged with a trace of fear.
“This servant understands.” The low voice blended with the dust. Song Nanqing turned and walked away. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded. Wei Jin picked up the handkerchief from the ground; the soft fabric, seemingly still retaining a faint trace of scent, was tucked by the man into his sleeve.
Emerging from the dungeon, the sun was high in the sky, warming the air. Sunlight bathed the vermillion walls, casting the shadows of the gold-dragon-wrapped pillars onto the ground. As the sun’s position shifted, the short shadows lengthened and shortened. The black shadow circled the pillar, and the sun rose in the east once more.
The main doors of the Zhengzheng Hall opened. Sunlight spilled onto a corner of the floor. Chun Jian held an imperial edict, his expression solemn. With a flick of his horsetail whisk, he lowered his eyes and read:
“By the Emperor’s decree, the investigation of the Wang Dinian case is concluded. The findings are hereby promulgated to the court to uphold order. Yao Shun, while serving as Magistrate of Jingzhao and managing vital capital affairs, has shown negligence in governance and colluded to form cliques. The evidence is conclusive; he is hereby stripped of his position as Magistrate of Jingzhao and demoted to a commoner. Chief Councilor Jia Liang, having maintained close ties with Yao Shun, failed in his duties of oversight and admonition, and cannot be absolved of blame. In view of his past service, he is ordered to close his doors and reflect on his faults. Since the Regent began assisting in governance, he has been diligent and achieved results; however, the Imperial Army is a sharp weapon of the state. If controlled by nobility for too long, it breeds discord. To secure the foundation of the state, the command of the Imperial Army is hereby transferred to the Emperor’s personal oversight effective immediately. Let all officials take heed. This is the decree.”
The morning air still carried a hint of chill, but this decree sent shockwaves through the ministers.
At first, it was merely an investigation into a palace breach, which was then handed to the Jingzhao Mansion and the Supreme Court. Then, a short blade from the Regent’s estate was found, followed by the retraction of testimony accusing Jia Liang of inciting the framing of the Regent. Finally, it was handed to the Yiluan Office. It was said that for some reason, this Wang Dinian had been poisoned into muteness just as he was about to speak the truth. The case had been left unresolved, but it left an indelible mark on the hearts of the officials.
To step half a foot into the palace was to step half a foot into a coffin. That saying was true. The Chief Councilor and the Regent were locked in a battle, each move aimed at destroying the other. Small officials like them truly dared not take sides easily.
The situation, which had seemed tipped in one direction, could be reversed in a breath. Such a world-shaking case ended with no conclusion; the Emperor had been forced to punish both sides, using Yao Shun as a scapegoat to pacify the event. But everyone knew Yao Shun was of Jia Liang’s faction and was merely taking the fall.
However, those with keen eyes discerned deeper meaning.
After the court session, a Cabinet Academician followed Chen Liwen, chatting all the way from calligraphy and paintings to the principles of officialdom, pestering Chen Liwen until his hands shook. “Lord Xi, I heard your son has entered the palace examinations. The test is imminent, so why are you following me instead of worrying about him?”
This man was the father of the prodigy Xi Jian and the younger brother of Xi Wenkang. His official career had been quite fortunate. Although his older brother had been idle since the events of the previous dynasty, he himself had relied on luck and influence to enter the Cabinet. But the Chief Councilor was Jia Liang, who was at odds with the Xi family. He was merely an edge figure, someone there to check Jia Liang, having no real power to speak.
Now that Jia Liang was no longer the sole authority, he had new considerations.
Xi Wenkang smiled, walking side-by-side with Chen Liwen, and whispered, “Lord Chen, others may not know, but I can see it clearly. Both the Regent and Lord Jia have been affected by this turmoil, and the Emperor must be disappointed in them. But your position in the Emperor’s heart has risen significantly. I heard that compiling the historical records has also been entrusted to you?”
“That is baseless talk; why speak of it?” Chen Liwen said. “If you have something to say, say it directly.”
Xi Wenkang did not beat around the bush: “You are rising through the ranks and will surely have a boundless future. I only hope you can offer some guidance. Which great tree do you think will stand forever?”
Chen Liwen glanced at him. “I was raised on the books of the sages; I do not know where any evergreen trees are. I only know the two words: Loyalty to the Sovereign.”
“Naturally, but even the sages always have their preferences. I simply cannot understand them.”
Chen Liwen patted him on the shoulder. “The preferences of a sovereign are not for commoners like us to fathom. Any great tree could fall.” Having said that, he hurried away.
Xi Wenkang stood in place, sighing. “Why is it so tiring to talk to you censorate officials?”