“So our family members died in vain? It was the officials’ tyranny that harmed them!”
“Exactly! Heaven is unjust, and we poor folk have nowhere to seek redress.”
In her past life, Yun Shuyue had never been one to indulge in sympathy for the weak. Sympathy alone was meaningless—like telling someone starving to death, “The world is cruel.”
What use was that?
She stood silently, watching the few people sprawled on the ground in grief. Her gaze carried no cruelty, yet it made several elderly women shudder. Their cries gradually subsided.
Only when they quieted did Yun Shuyue speak: “Are you certain these people are truly your kin?”
Her eyes fixed on a younger woman, who faltered, her gaze evasive, unable to answer. Instead, several older women spoke up: “How could it be false? Would we grieve so bitterly if they weren’t our family?”
Yun Shuyue nodded calmly: “Very well. Then let us first verify their identities before speaking of how they died. Conveniently, the Ministry of Revenue officials are here in the yamen. They have already cross‑checked the population records of Rong County with the magistrate several times. Report your names, and their identities will be confirmed.”
Her tone was steady, her eyes sharp. Human malice reveals itself most easily when desperation leaves no escape. At first, she had only suspected these mourners, but the younger woman’s hesitation confirmed her doubts.
Sure enough, at her words, the women who had been wailing moments before now looked uneasy, their grief suddenly uncertain.
From behind came a familiar voice—cold, wise, but tinged with weariness: “Take them into the county jail. Once their identities are verified, they will be dealt with accordingly.”
Yun Shuyue turned back and steadied him: “Why did you come out?”
Jiang Chengyuan leaned close, his voice low at her ear: “If I hadn’t, how could I have seen Madam display such wisdom and courage—calling upon the Ministry of Revenue itself?”
Yun Shuyue’s face flushed crimson. It wasn’t as if she had wanted to grandstand; it was simply a necessity. As the saying goes, *a clear conscience fears no ghost at the door.* If those dead truly were Rong County’s victims, then even invoking the highest authority would have been useless.
In the days that followed, Jiang Chengyuan focused on rescuing Zhao Qingyun. Yun Shuyue was puzzled—he didn’t seem particularly anxious. Shouldn’t he be frantic? Wasn’t Zhao Qingyun his “white moonlight”?
As she changed his bandages, she asked: “My lord, cousin has been missing for three days. Shouldn’t we…”
Jiang Chengyuan interrupted calmly: “Don’t worry. They seized her only to lure me out. As long as they haven’t caught me, she won’t be harmed.”
Yun Shuyue hesitated: “But aren’t you afraid she’ll be frightened?”
He replied without hesitation: “Qingyun’s nature has been spoiled since childhood. Let this serve as a lesson for her.”
Yun Shuyue was stunned. She hadn’t expected him to say such a thing. For a moment, she was speechless.
Jiang Chengyuan noticed her reaction and lifted his gaze: “What is it? Do you think me heartless?”
Yun Shuyue shook her head slightly: “Not that. It’s just… you two grew up together, childhood sweethearts. I thought you would be worried.”
Jiang Chengyuan sighed: “The matter must be resolved. Worry alone is useless.”
His words did make a certain sense.
That night, while Yun Shuyue was preparing soup for Jiang Chengyuan, a piercing cry suddenly rang through the yamen—it was unmistakably Zhao Qingyun’s voice. Strangely, instead of feeling irritated, Yun Shuyue felt a wave of relief.
In Jiang Chengyuan’s room, Zhao Qingyun rushed forward as if to throw herself into his arms, but Chen Ping quickly stopped her: “Miss, the lord is gravely wounded. You mustn’t touch him.”
At that, Zhao Qingyun ceased her crying. She had been angry that he hadn’t rescued her sooner, but upon hearing he was injured, her heart overflowed with concern: “Cousin, where are you hurt? Let me see.”
Jiang Chengyuan raised a hand to block her: “Cousin, though we are kin, men and women must observe propriety.”
Han Ye, who had been watching with amusement, finally spoke: “Miss, the lord’s body is fine enough. You should go wash up first.”
Only then did Zhao Qingyun remember she hadn’t bathed in three days, confined in a shabby hut and covered in dust. She didn’t want her cousin to remember her in such a state, so she ran back to her room.
Once she left, Han Ye’s expression hardened: “Just as you predicted, my lord. After Zhao Qingyun’s abduction, Vice Minister Xu Zhong of the Ministry of Revenue sent a secret letter to the capital.”
Jiang Chengyuan drew a deep breath and opened the letter—it was indeed addressed to the Third Prince.
Han Ye said gravely: “It seems you’ve stirred the hornet’s nest. Everyone knows the Third Prince has long vied against the Crown Prince. Even if the Emperor learns of this, he may not punish the Third Prince. His mother, Consort Jingxian, is deeply favored, and that alone gives him leverage. For years, he’s committed many deeds, yet the Emperor has mostly turned a blind eye.”
Jiang Chengyuan held the letter to the flame, burning it: “The relief in Rong County concerns the livelihood of the people. This is no petty corruption case. Nearly a million taels of silver have vanished, tens of thousands of dan of grain are missing, and countless victims have starved to death. I trust the Emperor will judge accordingly.”
Han Ye slammed the table, his golden armor clattering: “You’re too stubborn. If I hadn’t passed through Rong County, would your five hundred soldiers alone have sufficed?”
“We’ll just have to make do,” Jiang Chengyuan replied honestly, without bravado.
Han Ye teased: “And yet, in such a dragon’s den, you dared bring your new wife along. Truly, you two are inseparable.”
Jiang Chengyuan: “…”
In truth, he did regret it somewhat. Rong County was treacherous, danger lurking at every turn. But when he recalled how she had stood at the yamen gates, calm and unflinching, he felt that having her by his side was not such a bad thing after all.
Unaware there were guests inside, Yun Shuyue pushed the door open, carrying a steaming bowl of medicine. It was so hot she kept shifting it from hand to hand, frowning and puffing her cheeks, even pressing her fingers to her earlobes to ease the burn—a comical sight.
Seeing others in the room, she quickly steadied the bowl with both hands, hurried to set it on the table, then clasped her ears again with a wince: “I did not know there were guests. I’ll leave the medicine here to cool. I won’t disturb your conversation.”
As soon as she left, Han Ye chuckled: “No wonder you won’t part from your wife. You’ve married such a beauty!”
His jest was answered not with words, but with the sharp toss of a cup lid.