In the courtroom, Yan Tongshu sat upright beneath the plaque proclaiming "Bright Mirror Held High," while Pearl and Jinbao peeked out from the back hall, stealthily listening to the proceedings.
Wen Zhengshen knelt on the ground, head bowed. His hair was disheveled, and he wore a thin padded jacket. His figure was gaunt, his cheekbones prominent.
As the solemn cries faded, Yan Tongshu rapped the gavel. "Wen Zhengshen, do you confess your crime?"
Her voice was loud and piercingly cold, a tactic to intimidate Wen Zhengshen into the truth.
Wen Zhengshen’s frail frame trembled violently. He slowly raised his head, his eyes dim and lifeless, his bluish lips quivering. "Student... admits guilt."
Yan Tongshu arched an eyebrow. "Then state the truth from the beginning."
Wen Zhengshen’s face was deathly pale, his voice as faint as a thread. "Student should not have, out of friendship, helped someone elope against propriety."
Just that?
Yan Tongshu’s gaze darkened. "And more?"
Wen Zhengshen continued, "And student should not have, knowing full well it was a crime, foolishly tried to escape punishment."
His eyes darted with panic, and his hands clenched the hem of his robe until his knuckles turned white.
Yan Tongshu scrutinized him from head to toe. "The constables who arrested you said you only fled after I began investigating the elopement case?"
Wen Zhengshen lowered his head even further, his voice growing weaker. "...Yes... Student... when I heard the news of a death, I was truly terrified. I feared being entangled in a murder case with no way to defend myself, and I also dreaded the retaliation of the Qiao and Ma families, so my courage failed me. But with the new emperor about to reopen the imperial examinations, student, after failing year after year, could not resign myself to that fate. So I prepared to leave the capital while secretly watching the movements of both families."
"Only when I realized that the Qiao and Ma families both dreaded the scandal tarnishing their reputations and intended to handle matters privately did I finally feel at ease. I did not expect that, during the funeral, an accident would happen, and the Prefect would summon me to court. Shaken by panic and fear, that is when I... fled."
Yan Tongshu leaned forward. "Is that all?"
Wen Zhengshen stammered, "Student... student..." He fell silent.
Smack!
The gavel rang out again, filling the court with solemnity.
Wen Zhengshen trembled like a cicada in winter, his voice quaking. "Student... begs the Prefect for leniency... In a moment of foolishness, student stole the banknotes Ma Tianci brought from home, and fear of exposure drove me to flee in haste."
He pulled the banknotes from his chest and handed them to the constable.
Just theft?
Only that much?
Yan Tongshu's eyes cut like knives as they fell upon him. "And more?"
Wen Zhengshen raised his head, utterly bewildered. "More?"
Wasn’t he the one who stole the lost valuables of Qiao Qingqing and Ma Tianci?
Yan Tongshu ordered the evidence—a belt—to be brought forth. "This is the murder weapon used to strangle Qiao Qingqing. Tell me, whose belt is this?"
Wen Zhengshen’s pupils contracted sharply, horror overwhelming him. "That... that is student’s belt. Back when Ma Tian and Miss Qiao hastily eloped, Ma had brought few clothes, and with days of continuous rain, his clothes wouldn’t dry. So I lent him a set. Prefect..."
Wen Zhengshen prostrated himself, weeping bitterly. "This... how could this item have killed Miss Qiao? Student truly does not know!"
Yan Tongshu said, "Yet at the crime scene, I did not find any of your clothing."
"This..." Wen Zhengshen looked utterly trapped, his bluish lips trembling uncontrollably. "Student... truly does not know the reason behind it..."
He suddenly raised his head, tears streaming like rain. "Does the Prefect suspect that student is the killer?"
He screamed hoarsely, "I am innocent! I beg the Prefect to investigate!"
Wen Zhengshen cried out his innocence in panic, again and again, but Yan Tongshu remained cold-faced, silent.
For a time, the solemn courtroom echoed only with his voice.
Gradually, Wen Zhengshen could no longer continue.
He lifted his head in panic, meeting Yan Tongshu’s unfathomable gaze. Fear seeped through his bones like ice water.
Yan Tongshu asked, "How did you come to know Ma Tianci and Qiao Qingqing?"
Her voice was steady, but every word carried immense weight.
Wen Zhengshen answered, trembling on his knees, "I... I met Ma Tianc at a poetry gathering a year ago. He appreciated my talent, pitied my poverty, and often supported me with generosity. We grew close."
Yan Tongshu pressed, "Were you present at the painting and calligraphy gathering where Ma Tianci and Qiao Qingqing first met?"
Wen Zhengshen replied, "That day, many young ladies of the capital gathered, and numerous schoolmates attended out of admiration. Student was among them."
Yan Tongshu’s gaze sharpened. "And Qiao Qingqing?"
Wen Zhengshen said, "Ma and Miss Qiao later grew close. One chance encounter on the street, when I greeted Ma Tianci, I was introduced to Miss Qiao."
Yan Tongshu’s eyes narrowed slightly. This man was being dishonest; his cowardly demeanor did not match the cynical, embittered character shown in his paintings.
Yan Tongshu asked, "Where were you eight days ago and four days ago?"
Wen Zhengshen froze for a moment, as if perplexed by the question. Noticing his hesitation was ill-advised, he hurriedly said, "On the eighth, Old Master Gu Peiyuan gave a lecture at the Maple Grove Water Pavilion. Student fought hard to secure a spot, so I went early and stayed all day. Many colleagues were present. Old Master Gu lectured from morning until sunset, with only a break for lunch. His insights were profound, and student benefited greatly."
Yan Tongshu had heard of this lecture.
Old Master Gu Peiyuan, at forty-five, had offended someone at court and was demoted to compile books at Xianlin Hall. At fifty, he could no longer endure it, so he resigned and became a private teacher, occasionally giving public lectures. Yan Tongshu had sighed at the news when she heard it.
Maple Grove Water Pavilion and West City Bitai Alley were at opposite ends of the city. From east to west took two hours on foot or an hour by carriage.
Wen Zhengshen could not have committed the crime.
Seeing Yan Tongshu lost in thought, Wen Zhengshen tested cautiously, "Why does the Prefect ask about my whereabouts eight days ago?"
Yan Tongshu shot him a fierce glare, and Wen Zhengshen immediately lowered his head.
"How about the twelfth?" Yan Tongshu continued.
On the twelfth, Wen Zhengshen seemed far more evasive. His face paled further, his voice hollow. "Student... neglected his studies. Four days ago, with the deadline for the Maple Grove Water Pavilion assignment looming, student stayed home all day completing the task."
Yan Tongshu pressed, "Where is your assignment?"
Wen Zhengshen replied, "On the desk in my study, the third volume of my reading notes. Old Master Gu required us to complete the reading and write a reflection."
"Wen Zhengshen!" Yan Tongshu’s tone suddenly exploded like thunder. "Do you know the penalty for perjury in court?"
Wen Zhengshen trembled violently, knocking his head to the ground. "Everything student says is true. I dare not deceive!"
Yan Tongshu stared at him for a long moment before switching topics abruptly. "Very well. You stole property of considerable value. According to our dynasty’s laws, you are sentenced to six months’ imprisonment and ten strokes of the heavy board."
The gavel fell with a resounding crack. "Do you have any objections?"
Wen Zhengshen collapsed weakly, his shoulders heaving violently, before choking out, "Student... accepts the sentence."
Yan Tongshu ordered the constables to take Wen Zhengshen away.
Holding her head in her hands, Yan Tongshu found her thoughts trapped in a dead end.
Everyone had an airtight alibi—flawless and unbreakable.
Pearl and Jinbao quietly slipped around from the back hall and approached the desk: "Young Master."
Yan Tongshu looked up, her face crumpled as if she might cry: "This world is bullying me."
Pearl said, "Young Master, could it be that we’re overthinking things? What if the murderer really is Ma Tianci?"
Yan Tongshu said firmly, "No."
Pearl gasped in surprise: "Ah? So there really is a murderer."
Yan Tongshu stroked her chin: "I think I already know who it is. I just can’t figure out how their alibi works. If I can’t crack that, I can’t convict them."
Yan Tongshu summoned Xu Qiu.
Xu Qiu clasped his fists in salute: "Your Honor."
Yan Tongshu gave instructions: "As for Qiao Qingqing’s maidservant, Tao Hong, keep someone watching her around the clock. Pay special attention to her recent financial transactions."
Xu Qiu said, "But Your Honor, we haven’t noticed anything unusual about her money matters."
Yan Tongshu warned, "Keep watching for now. The pressure is high lately; she won’t dare make a move."
No, that’s not right.
Reflecting further, Yan Tongshu added: "If there’s nothing unusual with her finances, then investigate every place she’s been. Look into the property deeds of those places and the people coming and going."
Qiao Qingqing had a curfew; she couldn’t go far to meet Ma Tianci in secret. Wen Zhengshen’s estate was far away, and there were no items belonging to the two of them. Likely, they were meeting somewhere else. Since it was a long-term affair, the location had to be fixed.
Tao Hong was Qiao Qingqing’s personal maidservant; without her help covering it up, Qiao Qingqing couldn’t have kept this secret for so long.
If Tao Hong was hiding something, there had to be a problem.
Xu Qiu replied solemnly, "Understood."
The next evening, Yan Tongshu changed into a brocade blue round-collar robe, had Pearl and Jinbao carry two bolts of fabric, and headed to the Meng residence.
It was Old Madam Meng’s fifty-fifth birthday celebration. The mansion was decked with lanterns and streamers, plastered with "longevity" characters everywhere.
After handing over the gifts, Yan Tongshu told Pearl and Jinbao not to wait foolishly in the carriage for her to return, and to go out and enjoy themselves.
Pearl and Jinbao laughed, "We know, Young Master. We’re the ones you brought out—why would we shortchange ourselves?"
Yan Tongshu smiled at them fondly, nodded, and then stepped into the Meng residence.
She was led by a servant into the courtyard, where artificial rockeries and pavilions were packed with high-ranking officials and nobles.
Meng Yi, Commander of the Divine Guards, a third-rank official, was the emperor’s most trusted man and a key figure who had helped the new emperor ascend the throne. With General Meng’s mother celebrating her birthday, it was only natural that many came to offer congratulations.
Before Yan Tongshu entered, everyone was chatting and laughing, the atmosphere harmonious. The moment she stepped in, the entire hall fell silent, and all eyes glared at her with hostility.
Yan Tongshu forced an awkward but polite smile.
Why the glare? Why the glower? If you’re mad about that damned emperor’s annual examination system, take it up with him!
Hmph!
Besides, if they had the guts, they could chase her back to the Xianlin Academy. She’d happily return and stop bothering these ministers.
No one paid her any attention, so Yan Tongshu found a secluded spot to sit down, grabbed a plate of peanuts, and started shelling them.
After eating a few, she suddenly realized the mistake.
She had come to enjoy a feast—if she filled up on peanuts now, how could she eat later?
Yan Tongshu tossed the peanuts back onto the plate and brushed the crumbs off her hands.
Just then, someone patted her on the shoulder. Yan Tongshu turned around irritably, but immediately plastered a smile on her face when she saw who it was.
How could she not smile?
This was her go-to portrait artist, Qu Bai—the esteemed Master Qu.
One of his paintings fetched twenty-five taels of silver on the market.
Qu Bai’s square face showed a hint of regret: "Look at you—barely a month out of Xianlin Academy, and you’ve already made yourself so universally hated."
An old friend of eight years, Yan Tongshu didn’t bother putting on airs with him and let her petulance show.
She widened her eyes and protested indignantly: "What’s wrong with that? I’m doing it for the people. If they hate me, it’s because they have bad intentions."
Whack.
Qu Bai lightly tapped Yan Tongshu on the head with his fan: "At least you were from Xianlin Academy—don’t embarrass the place."
Yan Tongshu pouted, sounding utterly aggrieved: "I want to go back to Xianlin Academy."
Qu Bai looked at her, torn between exasperation and amusement: "You oddball—everyone in Xianlin Academy schemes to get out, but you want to come back?"
Yan Tongshu felt even more wronged.
Xianlin Academy was wonderful.
It was her dream department—a paradise where you got paid for doing nothing.
Just thinking about it made her want to cry.
Seeing Yan Tongshu on the verge of tears, Qu Bai quickly consoled her: "Why are you throwing a tantrum? If you miss the brothers at Xianlin Academy, you can always visit."
That’s not the same thing.
Yan Tongshu pursed her lips.
In the eyes of those at Xianlin Academy, leaving it was a stroke of luck.
Qu Bai had been stuck there for twelve years, now thirty-five years old. Yan Tongshu knew he wouldn’t understand her feelings, so she changed the subject: "Master Qu, everyone else resents me because of the annual examination. Why aren’t you mad at me?"
Qu Bai lifted his chin, revealing a spirited expression Yan Tongshu had never seen before.
Twirling his folding fan, he grinned: "This official happens to be fourth rank."
Yan Tongshu cocked her head.
So?
Qu Bai said smugly: "Exactly the rank to take the annual exam. Besides, at Xianlin Academy revising books, I have all the time in the world to study. Later, when the exam schedule is set, I, an idle editor at the academy, will outscore these self-proclaimed pillars of the court and cream of the crop. And then who’ll be the one to lose face?"
Yan Tongshu: "..."
She paused, then gave Qu Bai a thumbs-up.
They chatted idly for a while, and after Yan Tongshu wrangled a promise of ten portrait paintings from Qu Bai, the banquet began. Servants guided them to their seats.
Since seating was pre-arranged, Yan Tongshu and Qu Bai ended up apart.
Yan Tongshu looked at her assigned spot: table three in the second row.
The first row had only one table, reserved for the host family.
Yan Tongshu was the first to sit at her table. Soon, the other guests gradually took their seats.
As luck would have it, her left was the Minister of Personnel, and across from her sat the Minister of Works.
Both had been rebutted by Yan Tongshu at court and now stared at her with "malicious intent."
This time, it wasn’t her subjective bias—the malice was real.
Stuck in the middle of it all, Yan Tongshu groaned inwardly: A feast fraught with peril!
The Minister of Personnel stroked his beard and sneered, "I thought a man of such integrity as Minister Yan would have no time for worldly socializing." Then the Minister of Works chimed in with a sly smile: "Minister Yan devotes himself wholeheartedly to public duty; being at a birthday banquet means his schedule over at Kaifeng Prefecture must be light."
Yan Tongshu’s face stiffened.
These two were singing a duet—were they subtly accusing her of having too light a workload and planning to dump more on her?
Was it really that serious?
All over the annual examination system?
Both were second-rank officials who weren’t affected by the exams.
Ah, right—there was also the rule that promotion required an exam. That would make it harder for them to advance their own people from now on.
Yan Tongshu smiled at them, spread her hands, and said: "Alas, your subordinate actually wants to go back to Xianlin Academy. But fate has shown me favor, and His Majesty places his trust in me. What can I do?"
The Minister of Works had a gentle expression on his face. “But fate is unpredictable. Who knows when compiling books at the Xianlin Institute might run into difficulties and require Minister Yan to return.”
Yan Tongshu immediately brightened with joy. “Then I’ll take your kind words as good luck.”
Yan Tongshu was genuinely delighted, but to the eyes of the other officials present, it was a blatant provocation.
Both ministers darkened their faces simultaneously.
Yan Tongshu sighed helplessly. See? Nobody believed the truth. What a grievance.
Just then, Chen Sizhen, the husband of Princess Tijia, arrived gracefully.
Chen Sizhen approached the empty seat to Yan Tongshu’s right but did not sit down immediately. Instead, he stood and greeted each official in turn.
He had a face like polished jade and eyes like bright stars. Though years of privileged life as the princess’s consort had made him slightly plump, his demeanor was gentle and refined, carrying an air of noble grace cultivated through scholarship.
After exchanging pleasantries with the officials, his warm eyes—soft as warm jade—settled upon Yan Tongshu as he said with a smile, “So this is the renowned Minister Yan I’ve heard so much about recently.”
Yan Tongshu dared not be negligent in front of the consort of the Emperor’s mother’s most beloved princess, so she quickly rose and replied, “I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare.”
Chen Sizhen took his seat, naturally picked up the teapot beside him, and personally poured tea for each official.
Despite his status as the princess’s consort, there was not a trace of arrogance about him. A warm smile lingered at the corners of his lips, like a spring breeze brushing a railing, putting the officials at ease and making them feel as if bathed in the gentle wind.
As the polite exchanges went on, Meng Yi and his wife Wen Taojun helped Old Madam Meng out together.
Their only son, Meng Zheng, walked behind them.
Seeing Old Madam Meng emerge, everyone rose to offer their varied congratulations, wishing her “boundless good fortune and longevity as enduring as the southern mountain.”
Old Madam Meng was a plump, easygoing little old lady. Hearing all these auspicious words at her birthday feast, her face was radiant with joy, and she simply couldn’t stop smiling.
Once Old Madam Meng was seated, the birthday banquet settled into its regular routine.
That was when the younger generations of the Meng family came forward in turn to present gifts and felicitations, wishing the old lady endless happiness and years.
This was an activity for the Meng family alone, but the surrounding guests would also seize the moment to chime in with pleasing words.
Seeing that her presence wasn’t missed, Yan Tongshu focused on waiting for the meal.
She patted her stomach. She was truly hungry.
Finally, the formalities ended, and Yan Tongshu caught the aroma of food being served.
She picked up her chopsticks, poised and ready.
Roast duck, braised pork knuckles in brown sugar sauce, sweet-and-sour Mandarin fish...
Dish after dish arrived, and Yan Tongshu maintained an outwardly composed expression, but inside, she was a tempest of excitement.
She lifted her chopsticks.
At such occasions, most officials prioritized socializing—drinking, chatting, strengthening connections—taking only an occasional bite. But Yan Tongshu kept her head down, single-mindedly focused on eating.
The duck was delicious—not dry at all.
The pork knuckles were perfect—sweet without being cloying, melting at the touch.
The Mandarin fish was even better—the skin crispy and golden.
And the chicken and tofu porridge—oh, it was unbelievably good!
Then there were the birthday peaches—surprisingly stuffed with a savory filling of shredded meat and bamboo shoots—so flavorful and fragrant!
Yan Tongshu ate heartily but with impeccable manners, drawing no attention to herself.
Unfortunately, she was seated far too close to Chen Sizhen.
After a couple of symbolic bites, Chen Sizhen set down his chopsticks and joined the officials in drinking wine. From the corner of his eye, he observed Yan Tongshu. This Minister Yan was eating with so much gusto.
Chen Sizhen frowned slightly. Could it be that Minister Yan had genuinely come just for the food?
While sipping her chicken and tofu porridge, Yan Tongshu looked up and accidentally caught Chen Sizhen’s gaze. She nodded. “The Meng family’s chef is truly excellent. The food is wonderful.”
Even the elegant Chen Sizhen couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth.
Just then, a familiar voice announced, “The last dish: sesame crisp cakes.”
Yan Tongshu, focused entirely on the food, could only stare at the delicate white porcelain plate with blue floral patterns carried in by a rough hand.
Lady Qing’s sesame crisp cakes were far more refined than those sold on the street.
Street vendors sold cakes the size of a palm that crumbled with every bite. But here at the birthday feast, the cakes were much smaller—one bite each, no messy crumbs—and topped with a red character for “longevity.”
Yan Tongshu reached out with her chopsticks, picked one up, and took a bite. Sure enough, the pricier cakes were different, stuffed generously with filling—so savory and fragrant.
True to their name, they were crisp, tingly from Sichuan pepper, and crunchy.
Crack!
Yan Tongshu was savoring the cake with her eyes half-closed when suddenly, a crashing sound came from beside her. She instinctively looked over.
Lady Qing’s black pupils seemed to bulge; she stood frozen, as if struck by lightning.
At her feet lay a shattered plate.
The maidservant beside her fumbled nervously with the remaining plates on her wooden tray.
It seemed Lady Qing had backed into the maidservant, causing her to drop the tray and send the other plates of sesame crisp cakes crashing to the floor.
Lady Qing stared in stunned shock at Chen Sizhen. Chen Sizhen avoided her gaze, his face pale white.
Yan Tongshu swallowed the half-chewed cake in her mouth, her eyes flickering between Lady Qing and Chen Sizhen.
These two... with such reactions... old acquaintances?
Her thoughts racing with different possibilities, Yan Tongshu said with a smile, “It’s all right. A broken dish means safety from harm.”
Lady Qing seemed not to have fully recovered her senses until the maidservant tugged at her sleeve. She then appeared to snap back to awareness. “Yes, yes. My apologies, Auntie’s—I was careless.”
Yan Tongshu smiled. “It’s fine. There are so many people at this feast, and everyone’s busy—these things happen.”
Lady Qing bent to pick up the broken pieces. Yan Tongshu quickly stopped her. “Get a broom. You’ll hurt your hands if you do it that way.”
Lady Qing nodded, fetched a broom, and swept up the shards.
After cleaning the mess, her eyes suddenly filled with tears and fury. Looking directly at Chen Sizhen, she demanded, “If I may ask, sir, is your surname Chen?”
Chen Sizhen went rigid all over. “Yes. That’s correct.”
Lady Qing clenched her fists, holding back her tears with difficulty. “Then may I also ask: are you from Jiang Zhou, twenty-six years old, and seven years ago traveled from afar to the capital to take the imperial examinations?”
Chen Sizhen’s left hand, resting on his knee, trembled uncontrollably.
His face was drained of all color, and his voice came out faint and unsteady. “Yes.”
Lady Qing stepped forward and asked again, “And now, dressed in such wealth—did you gain your status by passing the exams seven years ago, or did you fall into poverty and later rise to fortune?”
The autumn wind, bitter and sharp as a blade, gusted around Lady Qing, tangling her hair in disarray.
There she stood, thin and fragile. Her maidservant tugged at her several times, yet she remained unmoving.
“You wretched cook! Don’t you know the protocol?”
As a mere servant behaving improperly, the head of the kitchen, informed of the disturbance, rushed over and raised her hand to scold and strike Lady Qing.
The slap was about to come down, but Lady Qing stood her ground, straight as a rod.
The cold wind howled around them.
Just as Yan Tongshu was about to order the head to stop, Meng Zheng approached. “What’s going on here?”
Today was a birthday celebration, so Meng Zheng had set aside his military uniform for a moon-white casual robe. Earlier, he had been attending to Old Madam Meng, his youthful handsomeness and vitality giving off an impression of easy geniality. But now, seeing trouble, his narrow eyes instantly sharpened like an unsheathed ancient sword, exuding a radiating, imposing aura.
The kitchen head quickly knelt and reported the matter.
Meng Zheng’s gaze shifted between Chen Sizhen, whose face was deathly pale, and Lady Qing, whose expression was filled with grief and indignation. He said, “Lady Qing, we’re still waiting for you to serve the dishes.”
Lady Qing’s eyelashes trembled, and two lines of tears fell from her eyes.
Yet she still insisted on asking Chen Sizhen, “May I ask, Your Excellency, when did you come into your fortune? Do you still have any family in Jiangzhou?”
