Ten days later.
The Chen residence in Jinling, Jiangnan.
Chen Shichang lounged in a rosewood grand chair, idly turning two lion-head walnuts in his hand.
His trusted steward stood below him, bent at the waist, an unconcealed, almost wild grin on his face as he embellished the situation outside and reported it in full.
“Master! We’ve confirmed it! The imperial commissioners sent by the Three Judicial Offices passed through the Yangzhou relay station last night. They’re heading south along the Grand Canal. At most, it’ll be another three to five days before their official vessels reach the Jiangning wharf!”
The steward raised his voice, spittle flying.
“The teahouses and bookshops east and west of the city have been printing the broadsheets listing the charges we circulated day and night without pause! Xu Youde’s residence is sealed up tight. We haven’t even seen a servant come out to buy provisions.”
“More than a dozen walls at Xiaguan Wharf are plastered with notices jointly signed by Jiangnan scholars. Every day, the common people gather there to curse Xu Youde and point fingers at him!”
The walnuts abruptly stopped turning.
Chen Shichang burst out laughing.
“Hahahaha! Xu Youde, that stray dog! He’s holed himself up in his tortoise shell and doesn’t dare show his face!”
Chen Shichang’s eyes bulged as he laughed with wild arrogance.
“Isn’t he the lofty second-rank imperial commissioner? Once the Three Judicial Offices’ men come ashore, it’ll be a fine day indeed—the day Xu Youde is shackled and thrown into the imperial prison!”
The steward hurriedly bent lower, piling on the flattery.
“It’s all thanks to your masterful planning! This move has cut off Xu Youde’s escape route. He’ll never be able to answer all the charges. Once a tyrannical official like him is brought down, who in all Jiangnan won’t look to our Chen family for support?”
The steward lowered his voice and changed the subject.
“However, that old bastard Yang Bonian hasn’t set foot outside his residence in ten whole days. I hear the Yang household has been dumping black dregs from boiled medicine outside every day, and the household physician makes three visits a day. Could it be that he’s on his last breath?”
Chen Shichang gave a contemptuous snort. He lifted his teacup, blew away the foam, and took a sip of hot tea.
“The old bastard had better die.”
He set the teacup down on the table with a crisp clack.
“The Yang family controls the most sacrificial lands and has the biggest share of the pie! In the past, they relied on their deep pockets to lord it over me at every turn.”
“If he kicks the bucket and goes below, then when the imperial grand construction project is finalized, our Chen family can claim all the credit for spearheading the land-protection campaign. It’ll also save us the trouble of fighting him for our share.”
At the Fang residence, in the reception hall.
Fang Jinhai was hunched over his desk, checking the accounts.
The deficits in the ledger were a tangled mess. His eyes had begun to ache from staring at them, and he reached up to knead his throbbing temples.
“Brother Fang! Wonderful news!”
The man had yet to appear, but his voice had already carried through the courtyard.
Wrapped in a sable cloak, Chen Shichang strode through the door, bringing with him a blast of icy wind and snow.
Fang Jinhai pushed aside the ledger and rose to greet him.
“Brother Chen, what brings you here in person? Quickly, serve some hot tea!”
Chen Shichang removed his cloak and tossed it to a servant nearby before settling grandly into the guest seat.
“Brother Fang! The imperial commissioners from the Three Judicial Offices will arrive in Jiangning by the day after tomorrow at the latest! Our ten days of effort haven’t gone to waste. The people’s spit from across the city is enough to drown that old scoundrel Xu Youde alive!”
The skin on Fang Jinhai’s face twitched twice, and he forced out a dry laugh. His hands rubbed nervously against each other.
“Brother Chen, this matter… can it really succeed?”
Fang Jinhai swallowed, his eyes shifting uneasily.
“Xu Youde is a second-rank official, and he holds the imperial commissioner’s seal of authority. If we make such a commotion and the emperor decides to protect his own man and punish us…”
Chen Shichang impatiently waved him off.
“Ah, Brother Fang, you’re worrying too much!”
His face brimmed with confidence as he reassured Fang Jinhai.
“Popular sentiment is an immovable mountain! The people and scholars of Jiangning have all been stirred into an uproar. With tens of thousands of mouths, what can Xu Youde use to silence them? Even if His Majesty acts with absolute arbitrariness, he still has to consider the stability of Jiangnan. Surely you understand the meaning of ‘the law does not punish the multitude’?”
Fang Jinhai nodded repeatedly, bowing and scraping as he let out a long breath. His brows twisted into a tight knot.
“That’s true enough… But I don’t know why, Brother Yang has shown no sign of action for ten days. I can’t help feeling uneasy.”
Fang Jinhai rubbed his hands even faster.
“Brother Yang is the oldest among our houses, and he is also the most resourceful. It was he who made the final decision to draw up that life-and-death pact. We wouldn’t have dared stand against the imperial court without him.”
“Now that he’s so gravely ill, with the household physician coming and going every day, I’ve wanted to visit him several times. But I was afraid of disturbing his rest.”
Hearing this, some of the fervor faded from Chen Shichang’s face. His eyes rolled from side to side twice.
“Mm. You’re absolutely right, Brother Fang.”
Chen Shichang stroked his chin, his tone turning solemn and full of concern for the old man.
“The three of our families swore an alliance—when one prospers, all prosper; when one suffers, all suffer. With Brother Yang ill, we’re missing our guiding hand. At this critical juncture, it wouldn’t do for us not to pay him a visit.”
Fang Jinhai slapped his thigh and rose.
“How about we prepare some generous gifts and go see whether he’s all right? We can bring several century-old ginseng roots, so Brother Yang knows we haven’t forgotten our loyalty.”
“Very well, very well!”
Chen Shichang straightened and smoothed the creases from his robe.
“Let’s go now.”
Two sticks of incense later.
Chen Shichang and Fang Jinhai arrived outside the Yang residence in the same heated sedan.
Gray walls and black tiles enclosed the estate. The vermilion gates were tightly shut, and old snow lay piled atop the stone lions.
Chen Shichang climbed the steps, seized the bronze door knocker, and struck it three times.
The dull pounding echoed along the empty street.
They waited a full quarter of an hour before the side gate on the left finally creaked open a narrow crack.
The Yang family steward poked half his head out and glanced left and right. When he saw Chen Shichang and Fang Jinhai, his expression became distinctly unnatural. He widened the opening slightly, bowed, and forced a strained smile onto his face.
“Oh, it’s Masters Chen and Fang! What brings you here in such bitter weather?”
Chen Shichang returned the bow with cupped fists, his voice sincere.
“We heard that Brother Yang’s illness has taken a turn for the worse. Brother Fang and I have been worried, so we’ve brought two old ginseng roots and some deer antler to pay him a visit. Please inform him that we’re here.”
The young servant behind Fang Jinhai stepped forward and offered a brocade box.
But the steward did not reach out to take it.
Fine beads of sweat had appeared on his brow. His eyes darted about, and he did not dare meet Chen Shichang’s gaze.
“Both masters are most considerate. It’s just… it’s just that our master has been coughing terribly these past two days. He can’t even swallow half a bowl of rice porridge.”
“The physician has repeatedly instructed him to remain behind closed doors and rest. It truly wouldn’t be appropriate for him to receive visitors.”
Fang Jinhai’s temper flared. He stepped forward, wedging half his body across the threshold.
“We won’t enter the inner residence and disturb him. We’ll simply see Brother Yang here in the gatehouse, exchange a few words from a distance, and leave. We’re sworn brothers, after all. Surely you can spare us this small courtesy?”
The steward retreated again and again, bending even lower, both hands raised across his chest.
“Master Fang, it’s not that this servant intends to bar your way! Our master truly cannot even get out of bed. He has just taken his calming medicine and fallen asleep.”
“This servant will convey your kind intentions to him exactly as they are. Leave the gifts here in the gatehouse. Once our master has recovered in a few days, he will certainly call on both masters in person to offer his thanks.”
His words were flawless, yet they carried a unmistakable distance, as though keeping them a thousand miles away.
Chen Shichang’s expression darkened, and he was just about to argue.
But the steward had already straightened and retreated inside.
“Please forgive us, Masters. This servant is only carrying out his orders and dares not disobey the master of the house. The wind is strong outside, so please return at once.”
The steward had no choice but to openly defy the two men. Gritting his teeth, he said, “My lords! This is truly inauspicious! I fear you’ll be tainted by the aura of death!”
The steward’s legs trembled uncontrollably. Forgive me, my lord! You are surely destined for a long life!
Without giving either man a chance to argue, he planted both hands against the door and shoved with all his might.
Bang!
The side gate slammed shut. From inside came the heavy thud of a thick wooden bar dropping into place.
Standing on the steps, Fang Jinhai stared at the tightly closed gate, utterly dumbfounded.
A cold wind howled past, making him shiver. His face flushed crimson.
“What… what in the world is going on?”
Fang Jinhai turned toward Chen Shichang, his grievance and panic plain to see.
“Could Brother Yang’s illness truly have left him bedridden? He refuses even to see allies who’ve shared life and death with him?”
Chen Shichang said nothing. He recalled the gatekeeper’s steward—the man’s hesitant, evasive manner.
There had been something strangely guilty about him, as though he feared his wrongdoing might be exposed.
Chen Shichang let out a cold snort, flicked his sleeve, and turned away.
“Let’s go back first.”
The carriage rolled over the patches of old snow.
Inside, Fang Jinhai’s mind was in turmoil. He clutched at the fur lining of his cloak, turning the matter over again and again, unable to understand why Yang Bonian had refused to receive them.
The carriage arrived at the Fang residence.
Fang Jinhai did not even bother removing his cloak. He strode into the reception hall.
“Someone! Bring Fang Shun here!”
A moment later, his trusted steward, Fang Shun, hurried in.
Fang Jinhai lowered his voice and spoke rapidly.
“Pick two agile, quick-witted servants. Have them keep a twenty-four-hour watch on the Yang residence! Find out exactly how ill Master Yang is, which outsiders have entered or left the Yang residence these past few days, and what medicines they’ve taken. I want every detail!”
Fang Shun clasped his hands and accepted the order before withdrawing.
Fang Jinhai collapsed into the grand armchair and picked up the cup of tea that had gone cold on the table.
He raised it to his lips, but could not swallow. Cold sweat beaded across his forehead.
Just what kind of waters had Jiangning’s political scene become? Why was nothing easy to see through?
…
At the same time, in the main hall of the Chen residence.
Chen Shichang paced back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back.
A gaunt strategist from the clan stood beside the desk, his hands hanging respectfully at his sides, his eyes lowered.
“Tell me. What trick is that old fox Yang Bonian playing?”
Chen Shichang stopped and fixed the strategist with a piercing stare.
The strategist stroked his goatee and analyzed the situation methodically.
“My lord, in my humble opinion, the Yang family’s refusal to receive visitors for the past ten days is certainly not due to illness alone.”
Chen Shichang’s gaze sharpened like a blade. He crossed the room in three strides and stood before the strategist.
“You mean he’s pretending to be sick?”
The strategist hurriedly cupped his hands and lowered his voice.
“I would never dare make such a claim without proof. But when one considers the matter carefully, there are indeed many suspicious points. Ten days ago, the three families swore their alliance before the ancestral shrine. Master Yang was full of vigor then. When he cursed Xu Youde, his voice rang out like a bell. He showed no sign whatsoever of being gravely ill.”
The strategist glanced up to gauge Chen Shichang’s expression before continuing.
“The imperial commissioners from the Three Ministries are about to arrive, and the situation is already as tense as a bowstring. Yet at this precise moment, he suddenly falls ill—and falls ill so strangely that he refuses to receive even you and Master Fang.”
“Such conduct looks less like illness and more like a deliberate attempt to avoid someone… or to guard against something.”
Chen Shichang’s face turned livid.
He returned to the grand armchair and sat down, closing his eyes as he retraced the scene in the ancestral hall ten days earlier.
Yang Bonian had cut his finger and let the blood drip into the wine bowl. The man’s resolute expression, his righteous declaration that he would fight to the bitter end, remained vivid in Chen Shichang’s mind.
Was that old fox from the Yang family truly willing to stake his entire fortune and his life on what he called justice?
Chen Shichang suddenly opened his eyes and shouted sharply.
“Go and handle something for me!”
The strategist hurriedly bowed.
“Send people to the printing shop in the western part of the city. Pay them double in ready cash and have them print several thousand more copies of the broadsheets! Stoke the fire in the city and drive public opinion to a fever pitch!”
Chen Shichang ground his teeth, each word laced with malice.
“And add more fuel to the broadsheets. Make an oblique reference to the great clans of Jiangnan enclosing land. Say that there are shady dealings behind the ancestral graves of several prominent families south of the city!”
The strategist’s expression changed in horror. He lifted his head and cried out, “My lord, absolutely not! Wouldn’t that drag us into it as well?”
Chen Shichang slammed his palm onto the desk and sprang to his feet in fury.
“Do as I say!”
His chest heaved violently, and a vicious glint shone in his eyes.
“I don’t want to take such a dangerous step either, but the situation leaves no room for mistakes! If Yang Bonian truly is deathly ill, these rumors will do us no harm. We haven’t named anyone directly, after all. No one can pin the blame on us.”
Chen Shichang stared at the copy of the petition signed by the people of the realm on the desk, as though he could burn through it with his eyes.
“But if the Yang family has developed treacherous intentions and plans to climb ashore by stepping on the bones of our two families, then I’ll muddy these waters until they become nothing but sludge! No one will escape with a clean name!”
The strategist sucked in a cold breath. He did not dare offer any further objection and withdrew with his back bent low.
Only Chen Shichang remained in the main hall.
The copper clepsydra dripped with a steady rhythm.
His doubts spread and multiplied like weeds across a barren plain, nourished by the bitter winter wind.
Dark clouds veiled the moon.
No brazier burned in the Yang residence’s study, leaving the room cold and austere.
Yang Bonian wore a dark blue padded robe, his back straight as a spear as he stood behind the broad writing desk.
Spread across the desk was a map detailing the influential families south of the city.
Several critical pieces of land belonging to the Chen and Fang families had been marked with heavy circles of cinnabar.
The steward, Yang Quan, pushed open the door and entered. Bowing respectfully, he reported, “My lord, the heads of the Chen and Fang families came to inquire after your health today. As you instructed, we stopped them outside the gate. However…”
Yang Quan hesitated before continuing.
“From Master Chen’s expression, full of ruthless calculation, and Master Fang’s suspicious demeanor, I fear they may have grown wary.”
Yang Bonian looked up from the map and turned to the man opposite him, Yang Jingzhi.
“Seventh Prince, what do you think Chen Shichang will do?”
Yang Jingzhi’s expression was cold, his tone certain.
“Chen Shichang is arrogant and conceited, yet suspicious and jealous by nature. Now that he has grown wary, he will certainly make a move to test us.”
“Most likely, he’ll use the method he knows best—stirring up trouble and using public opinion to force us to declare our position.”
Yang Bonian applauded softly, though there was not the slightest warmth in his voice.
“If he wants to test us, then let him test us to his heart’s content.”
His gaze was as sharp as a blade as he spoke coldly.
“Seventh Prince, hear my order!”
“I’m listening.” Yang Jingzhi clasped his hands.
“Tomorrow, at the hour of Chen, strike the clan’s great bell and summon the heads of every branch to the ancestral shrine!”
Yang Bonian straightened his back, every word ringing out like the beat of a war drum.
“Send someone to deliver a message to Magistrate Xu Youde in person—”
“The Yang family is about to make its move.”
