Yan Liangyu looked at Yan Tongshu with unwavering eyes. “Big Brother, we will always be your strongest backbone.”
Yan Tongshu thought for a moment. “Are you talking about Consort Chen’s case?”
Yan Liangyu nodded.
Yan Liangrong picked up the thread. “You led troops into the Princess’s residence this morning, and by the afternoon, all of the capital knew. Naturally, your brother-in-law and I found out too.”
Yan Tongshu asked, “What are they saying out there?”
“What else could they say? Only that our Tongshu is upright and incorruptible—a good official.” Seeing that her sister looked doubtful, Yan Liangrong gently pushed her toward rest. “Alright, why worry about so much? Aren’t you attending the morning court tomorrow? Go sleep.”
Yan Liangrong waved a hand, gesturing for Pearl to escort Yan Tongshu to rest.
Once Yan Tongshu had walked out of earshot, she returned to the dining hall and sat back down.
Of course, the words out there weren’t kind.
They were filled with insults and warnings of every sort, even threatening Zheng Chun, telling him and her to persuade Yan Tongshu to be smart, to yield to the times, and not to ruin her own future.
But outsiders were outsiders.
They were family.
Lady Yan’s gaze swept across her two daughters, her voice as calm and steady as still water. “Beneath the emperor’s own eye, who doesn’t have some pull or backing? Tongshu serves as Prefect of Kaifeng—she governs the very streets under the Son of Heaven’s feet. If she gives ground today, she’ll only give ground again tomorrow, until there’s no ground left to give. Tongshu cannot yield, and the Yan family cannot yield either. No matter what anyone says to you in private, you must not agree. Do you understand?”
Yan Liangrong and Yan Liangyu answered together. “Yes, your daughter understands.”
Yan Liangyu spoke up. “Mother, we all trust Big Brother. We believe whatever she does is the best choice for the Yan family.”
Of her two daughters, Lady Yan worried most about Yan Liangyu, afraid she might be swayed by the Zhou family’s silver tongue.
But now that Yan Liangyu had said this, Lady Yan felt at ease.
Liangyu might be a little too absorbed in matters of the heart, but in the end, she was clear-headed about what mattered. All those years of love and teaching had not been wasted.
The next day, before dawn had even broken, Yan Tongshu went to the morning court.
Standing among the assembled officials, Yan Tongshu kept her eyes lowered, her expression gentle and harmless. In truth, she was stealthily catching up on sleep, and by the time court was dismissed, she had completely failed to notice the subtle, hostile, or amused glances the other ministers cast her way.
After court, Yan Tongshu went to the Yang family’s noodles stall for a bowl of soup noodles.
No sooner had her noodles been set down than Meng Zheng slid over from the neighboring table with his own bowl.
He looked at the sparse toppings in his own bowl, then at the little mountain piled atop Yan Tongshu’s, as well as those of Jinbao and Pearl. “Boss lady, isn’t the gap a bit much?”
Aunt Yang, busy pulling noodles at the big pot, waved a hand without lifting her head. “Ay, they’re all the same, all the same.”
Same? How?
Meng Zheng carefully compared his bowl to the three in front of Yan Tongshu. There was a huge difference, wasn’t there?
Yan Tongshu ate her noodles in silence, and Meng Zheng spoke up. “Lord Yan, about the joint patrol duty roster...”
Yan Tongshu raised a hand, cutting him off. “Commander Meng, it’s not yet time for our shift. Let’s not talk shop.”
Outside of work hours, there was nothing worse than running into a colleague.
Couldn’t whatever it was wait until they were on duty?
Meng Zheng: “...”
Fine. He had extended a gesture of goodwill just yesterday, and now he was being shot down today. Truly worthy of the title heard across court and country: the overly upright, utterly inflexible Lord Yan.
Very well. Since Yan Tongshu didn’t want to hear it, Meng Zheng wouldn’t press. He lowered his head and ate his noodles.
Finally, Yan Tongshu finished to her satisfaction.
She drained the last of the broth, then wiped her mouth clean.
Yes—nobody made noodles as well as Aunt Yang.
After finishing his noodles, Meng Zheng fell in step behind Yan Tongshu and her party. Yan Tongshu stepped through the gates of the Kaifeng Prefecture with her front foot, and had just lifted her back foot—
Bang!
The gong sounded.
Time for duty.
Meng Zheng blinked. That precise?
Meng Zheng walked into the Kaifeng Prefecture and made his way to the side chamber where Yan Tongshu worked. “Yan...”
The words stuck in his throat.
Was the difference really that big?
Just moments ago, at the noodle stall, Lord Yan had been practically glowing—full of energy, bright in the face.
How was it that, only a few steps later, Lord Yan now looked sallow and listless, eyes lifeless, as if some spirit had drained the very vigor from her?
Meng Zheng simply couldn’t understand what had caused such a change in Yan Tongshu.
Yan Tongshu asked, listlessly, “Commander Meng, do you have business with me?”
Meng Zheng cupped his hands in salute. “Lord Yan, regarding the joint patrol duty roster...” He pulled the roster from the east and west battalions out of his robe. “There are a few points on this roster I’d like to discuss with you further.”
Yan Tongshu looked entirely unruffled. “Is there a problem with this roster?”
Meng Zheng opened his mouth, then hesitated.
Yan Tongshu continued to look at him, perfectly candid. “Commander Meng, this official may be incorruptible, but I’m hardly unreasonable. This roster was drafted by this official with ‘great’ care and ‘personally’ compiled—but if there truly is a problem, as long as you ‘plainly’ and ‘clearly’ explain to me what’s wrong, this official will make adjustments as appropriate.”
Having said that, Yan Tongshu simply looked at Meng Zheng in silence.
Today, Meng Zheng wore a silver-black set of armor that gleamed coldly in the sunlight, making the lines of his brow seem all the sharper.
He stood in a soldier’s stance by habit—legs slightly apart, left hand gripping the black hilt of the sword at his waist, the veins on the back of his hand standing firm. He was like a distant mountain standing tall: he needed neither a catastrophic event nor a stunning display to reveal the vast strength coiled within his body.
A different kind of strength entirely from the men of the two battalions who had come yesterday.
Yan Tongshu thought, they say the Meng family has served in the military for four generations. This must be what comes of a general’s bloodline. If only his expression were a little less tense, he would truly embody the composed bearing of a great military commander.
Yan Tongshu faced him with calm ease, but Meng Zheng was deeply uncomfortable.
What did she mean by “plainly” and “clearly” explain?
Wasn’t that cornering him?
The east and west battalions of the Divine Guard—that was their own internal affair.
One doesn’t air the family’s dirty linen in public.
How could he possibly air the internal squabbles of the two battalions to the Kaifeng Prefecture?
Was he supposed to tell Yan Tongshu that the east battalion was still bitter that the west battalion had stolen their prisoners during last time’s training at Deer Mountain?
Should he tell her that the west battalion had launched a midnight latrine raid?
And spill all that messy infighting out to outsiders? How embarrassing would that be?
Seeing that Meng Zheng said nothing, Yan Tongshu smiled and reminded him gently, “Commander Meng, you may speak now.”
The day before, the two battalions had quarreled for half an hour and nearly come to blows, with the patrol roster perpetually unresolved. The main reason had been that both sides’ representatives spoke in circles and concealed their true grievances. You wouldn’t spell it out, and I wouldn’t point at it—but either way, it just wasn’t right, wasn’t acceptable, wasn’t possible, no concessions.
Yan Tongshu had seen through it all: if the issue wasn’t brought into the open, the roster was never going to be settled.
But in the meantime, she had also figured out exactly which companies within the east and west battalions had conflicts with which regiments, and which platoons had grudges against which squads.
It wasn’t just bad blood between the two battalions—each battalion’s companies, regiments, and platoons all had their own feuds.
Everyone had been nursing grievances for ages and no one would budge, which was how they’d gotten to this impossible scheduling nightmare.
And precisely because she could see all of it clearly, Yan Tongshu was able to step on every landmine with perfect accuracy, making absolutely everyone unhappy.
And right now, she was banking on the fact that Meng Zheng wouldn’t air the “family’s dirty linen.”
Meng Zheng held his breath for a long moment before finally letting out: "Lord Yan, does such a cunning scheme match your upright character?"
If there were only five or six spots in the schedule that unreasonably stoked conflict, he could have let it slide. But this duty roster was riddled with landmines from start to finish—once implemented, the entire Divine Guard Army would be at each other's throats every single day.
Yan Tongshu raised an eyebrow. "Since Counselor Meng has no objections, we'll go with this schedule as is."
Meng Zheng lowered his head with a faint smile, his tongue unconsciously grazing his canine tooth. When he looked up again, his composure had returned. He asked, "Lord Yan, what would it take for you to yield?"
"Hmm..." Yan Tongshu stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Any condition I want?"
Meng Zheng: "Nothing that violates morality or the law."
"Fine, but not right now." Yan Tongshu extended one finger. "You'll owe me this—'one' condition, redeemable at any time."
Meng Zheng stepped forward a few paces and raised his hand. "A handshake to seal the oath."
Smack.
Hands clasped in alliance.
After the handshake, Yan Tongshu opened a drawer and pulled out a duty roster from the Kaifeng Prefecture constables. "This is the most reasonable shift distribution for the Kaifeng Prefecture constables. Take it back and adjust the schedules for the East and West Battalions accordingly, then bring it back to me. Let me reiterate one final time—I want the finalized version."
Meng Zheng snatched the document. "Rest assured, this will be the definitive final version."
With that, he turned sharply and strode out with long, swift steps. His silver-black armor clanked with each stride, the metallic rustle whistling like wind.
As soon as Meng Zheng left, Li Fulin walked in, followed by a clerk carrying a stack of documents awaiting Yan Tongshu's official seal.
A tall pile, like a small mountain.
The clerk set the documents on the desk.
Li Fulin leaned forward, curiously watching Meng Zheng's retreating figure. Only once the shadow vanished from sight did he turn back and ask, "Lord Yan, has the joint patrol schedule with the Divine Guard Army been settled?"
Yan Tongshu flipped open a file and hummed in confirmation. "Mm. Commander Meng will return to the Divine Guard Army to confirm, then submit a 'no-further-adjustments-needed' final version."
Li Fulin was stunned.
His perpetually half-lidded narrow eyes snapped wide open, lending his rigid, square face a rare touch of absurdity.
Li Fulin gaped. "J-just like that? It's solved?"
Yan Tongshu looked up, staring at Li Fulin as if to ask, what else did you expect?
Li Fulin was shocked again. Deeply shocked. Utterly shocked.
When Yu Ping, the former acting prefect of Kaifeng, had been in office, coordinating patrol schedules between the East and West Battalions and the prefecture required seven or eight meetings a year, dragging on for months and exhausting everyone before a final agreement could be reached.
And Lord Yan—from last night to today—settled it in one go?
While Li Fulin stood there in disbelief, Yan Tongshu glanced at Pearl. Pearl understood at once and handed a thick, heavy volume to Li Fulin with both hands.
Yan Tongshu instructed, "Magistrate Li, this is my compiled 'Kaifeng Prefecture Administrative Process Optimization Plan.' Have someone transcribe it, distribute it level by level, and order each department head to adjust accordingly. From today onward, all redundant and tedious procedures and paperwork are to be simplified for maximum efficiency."
Just talking about it made Yan Tongshu furious.
She had been at Kaifeng Prefecture for nearly two months, and the sluggish, bureaucratic inefficiency had her working until eight or nine every night.
The most infuriating part? This damned imperial court had official start times but no official end times—and absolutely no overtime pay.
Despicable.
From now on, she was leaving at five in the afternoon. Sharp.
Li Fulin received the "Kaifeng Prefecture Administrative Process Optimization Plan," flipped through it, and was overjoyed. "Lord Yan has devised something truly ingenious. I recommend presenting this to His Majesty—the Three Departments and Six Ministries could all benefit from adopting it."
Yan Tongshu's mouth twitched. "If you want to present it, go ahead yourself."
She certainly wasn't going. If she submitted it, they'd inevitably make her revise it for each department's specific functions, which meant more overtime and coordination. Clearly a trap.
But Li Fulin said solemnly, "This is Lord Yan's achievement. How could I presume to take credit for it?"
Yan Tongshu's expression went fish-like and deadpan. "Magistrate Li, if you present it, you take full charge of everything after. As for the credit—whoever handles the follow-up gets it."
She was not working overtime. Not working for free.
Li Fulin couldn't win the argument against Yan Tongshu, so he took the "Kaifeng Prefecture Administrative Process Optimization Plan" back, studied it carefully, organized it himself, and submitted it to His Majesty.
...
On the day of Chen Sizhen's trial, the front of Kaifeng Prefecture was packed to the brim.
Huge crowds had flocked to see what a royal consort's trial would look like.
Yan Liangyu couldn't rest easy either, squeezing into the crowd. Amid the surging tide of people, she stumbled and nearly fell—until Zhou Zhengxun reached out and caught her.
She brushed his hand away, frowning. "What are you doing here?"
Zhou Zhengxun looked at her with hurt in his eyes. "My mother sent me to check on the situation."
Yan Liangyu sidestepped him and pushed left, trying to get closer to the front. At that moment, Yan Liangrong also arrived, unable to contain her worry, dragging Zheng Chun along. She waved at Yan Liangyu, pulled her over to stand with her, and shot Zhou Zhengxun a warning glare. "Zhou Zhengxun, if you have any conscience left, tell your mother to return Liangyu's betrothal papers and dissolve this engagement."
Zhou Zhengxun pressed his lips together, pain written across his face, yet he stubbornly insisted, "I won't agree to that. Liangyu..."
He looked at her with pleading eyes, as if hoping she might hold on to this relationship a little longer—give him just a bit more time.
Yan Liangyu turned her head away, tears glistening in her eyes, but she refused to look at him.
The bailiff stepped forward to maintain order.
The wooden staff struck the bluestone ground.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Show reverence—"
The formal shouts rang out, drowning all noise, and the crowd fell silent of its own accord.
Yan Tongshu walked out in a crimson official robe, taking her seat at the judge's bench.
Li Fulin and Zhang Jiu, in their magistrate positions, sat below on the left and right respectively.
Yan Tongshu raised the gavel high.
Smack!
The gavel struck as her crisp voice rang out simultaneously: "Court is now in session."
Chen Sizhen sat in a wheelchair, carried into the courtroom by servants.
Beside him stood his barrister, Zhao Kuangzhi, who hunched slightly in a seemingly humble posture, though arrogance simmered in his brow.
Lady Qing knelt in the courtroom, and Yan Tongshu told her to rise.
Lady Qing stood.
No barrister in the capital dared to take Lady Qing's case, so she had to repeat her allegations herself.
After listening to Lady Qing's statement, Yan Tongshu asked, "Consort Chen, is what she said true?"
Chen Sizhen gripped his knees, that stunningly handsome face now dark as iron.
Barrister Zhao Kuangzhi stepped forward at the opportune moment. "Lord Yan, Consort Chen's illness has not fully recovered, and his physician has advised rest and minimal speech. As such, I shall speak on his behalf for this case."
Yan Tongshu nodded.
Zhao Kuangzhi turned to face Lady Qing. "Consort Chen has already recounted his... interactions with this—"
He tilted his chin up slightly, looking down upon Lady Qing from head to toe with an air of condescension, then said, "—with this woman here in full detail to me. All I can say is, Lady Qing's account is true—but it is not entirely true."
Li Fulin narrowed his eyes and asked, "What do you mean by that?"
Zhao Kuangzhi smiled with confidence, then turned to Yan Tongshu: "Lord Yan, according to this dynasty's laws, if a man remarries without divorcing his first wife and without a valid, pardonable reason, he must serve three years in prison. However, the entanglement between Consort Chen and this Lady Qing is by no means without cause."
Yan Tongshu raised an eyebrow, letting Zhao Kuangzhi explain what that cause was, and then gestured to Jinbao and Pearl, who were standing by, to go look into Zhao Kuangzhi's background.
Zhao Kuangzhi walked over to Lady Qing. His narrow eyes resembled a snake hunting in the jungle. He asked, "Lady Qing, on what day did you and Consort Chen marry?"
Lady Qing bore no goodwill toward anyone who helped Chen Sizhen. Her face turned hostile as she glared fiercely at Zhao Kuangzhi: "Early summer, ten years ago, on the sixth day of the fifth month."
Zhao Kuangzhi: "Who was the matchmaker?"
Lady Qing: "Old woman Huang of Chen Family Village."
Zhao Kuangzhi: "Had you met before the wedding?"
Lady Qing: "Under the matchmaker's witness, together with my parents, I met Consort Chen and his mother once."
Zhao Kuangzhi abruptly changed his line of questioning: "Did your parents ask for your opinion?"
Lady Qing was taken aback. "What?"
Zhao Kuangzhi curled the corner of his mouth: "Did your parents ask whether you were willing to marry him?"
Lady Qing fell into confusion. "My mother said... I could marry him."
Zhao Kuangzhi pressed on: "And then you married him?"
Lady Qing nodded blankly. A parent's command, a matchmaker's word — wasn't that how it was for everyone?
She didn't understand why Zhao Kuangzhi was asking such a thing.
The onlookers gathered around the court also didn't understand why Zhao Kuangzhi was asking such pointless questions.
Yan Liangyu and Yan Liangrong held hands, watching the proceedings with worry.
This Zhao Kuangzhi was a notorious shyster. With a single tongue, he could twist black into white, turn the dead into the living. He was no easy opponent.
Zhao Kuangzhi turned to Yan Tongshu, bowed, and said, "Lord Yan, I request to summon Consort Chen's mother, Granny Chen."
Yan Tongshu granted the request: "Approved."
Granny Chen was brought in. After she bowed, Yan Tongshu allowed her to stand while answering questions.
Zhao Kuangzhi said to Granny Chen: "Granny Chen, in this court, you must speak the truth. If you lie, it is perjury, and by law, you will be beaten twenty strokes. Do you understand?"
Granny Chen: "This old woman understands."
As she spoke, her gaze unconsciously darted toward Chen Sizhen, who stood behind Zhao Kuangzhi.
Chen Sizhen sat in a wheelchair. After his right leg had been broken, it was bound with a bamboo splint. Due to the pain of the broken leg, his face was pale, his lips tinged purple. If one didn't know the full story, he looked truly pitiable.
Zhao Kuangzhi discreetly noted Granny Chen's concern for Chen Sizhen and said, "Granny Chen, at the time of the engagement between Lady Qing and Consort Chen, was it you who made the decision?"
Granny Chen nodded: "At that time, A-si... no, Consort Chen. He had just passed the prefectural examination, and the metropolitan examination was three years away. I heard from people in the village that the road from Jiangzhou to the capital was long, with many mountains, many poisonous insects, and many bandits. And the metropolitan examination lasted three days — eating, drinking, and everything else had to be done inside. Many couldn't endure it. Many came out of it gravely ill, and some even died from the illness.
I was afraid that if something happened to my son along the way, the Chen family line would end. So I wanted to arrange a marriage for him as soon as possible, to have a child within those three years. If nothing went wrong, all would be well. But if something did happen, at least I could face the ancestors of the Chen family with a clear conscience."
Zhao Kuangzhi pressed further: "When the engagement was being discussed, although Consort Chen had the support of his clan, the family was still quite poor, wasn't it?"
Granny Chen nodded.
Zhao Kuangzhi: "The Chen family was poor, and Lady Qing's natal family, the Feng family, though slightly better off than the Zhao family, was still poor. Is that so, or not?"
Granny Chen nodded again.
Zhao Kuangzhi: "In that case, when the marriage was being discussed, did you ask Consort Chen whether he was willing to marry Lady Qing?"
Granny Chen nodded.
Zhao Kuangzhi suddenly stepped forward, staring into Granny Chen's eyes, pressing: "Then, what did Consort Chen say at that time?"
Zhao Kuangzhi's gaze was sharp, his aura intimidating.
Granny Chen, being merely a village woman, stumbled backward in fright.
Yan Tongshu tapped his gavel and warned: "Lawyer Zhao, return to your position. Do not overstep."
Zhao Kuangzhi didn't try to fight Yan Tongshu. He smiled, answered "Yes," and stepped back to the center line, then asked again: "Granny Chen, after you asked Consort Chen, what did he say?"
Granny Chen twisted the soot-stained corner of her clothes, glancing repeatedly at Lady Qing with eyes full of guilt, and said in a low voice: "Consort... Consort Chen said he didn't want to be distracted from the examinations. He wanted to wait until after the imperial exams were over before taking a wife and having children."
Zhao Kuangzhi went on: "Is that all?"
Granny Chen's lips trembled, and she said nothing more. Zhao Kuangzhi turned to Chen Sizhen: "Consort Chen, is that all?"
Chen Sizhen looked aggrieved: "No."
Zhao Kuangzhi guided him along: "Then what actually happened?"
Chen Sizhen recalled the situation at that time, his tone even more plaintive: "At that time, my mother told me she had arranged a marriage for me with Feng Qingniang from the neighboring village. I had failed my first prefectural examination, and only passed on my second attempt, ranking fourth from the bottom. I was studying five or six hours a day preparing for the metropolitan examination, in the most anxious and tense period of my life. I had no intention of marrying. I told my mother I didn't want to take a wife, that I only wanted to focus on the examinations."
His voice rose, tinged with grief and indignation: "I even tried to persuade her — if I truly passed the metropolitan examination, I could find her a better daughter-in-law. But my mother wouldn't agree. First, she pretended to be sick. Then she threatened to hang herself. Then she refused to take her medicine, claiming to be gravely ill. How could I bear the crime of driving my own mother to death? So I had no choice but to agree. Afterwards, my mother took me and the matchmaker to the Feng family to meet Qingniang, and the wedding date was set on the spot."
When Chen Sizhen finished, Zhao Kuangzhi looked at Lady Qing: "Lady Qing, did you know any of this?"
Lady Qing looked at Granny Chen, then at Chen Sizhen, her eyes filled with devastation.
So that was how it was.
From beginning to end, Chen Sizhen had never wanted to marry her.
A raging fire of fury suddenly surged in her chest. Lady Qing screamed in accusation: "If he didn't want to marry me, why didn't he just say so? Why didn't your family speak up earlier? Did you think I, Feng Qingniang, would hold a knife to your door and force a marriage?"
Zhao Kuangzhi said calmly: "You didn't force it. But Granny Chen did."
After that, Zhao Kuangzhi faced the crowd gathered around the courthouse: "Tell me, what man in this world could hold his ground against a mother who threatens her own life, and refuse to bend, becoming a person who is neither filial nor righteous?"
Those words struck a chord with many in the crowd.
Yes — that was the mother who bore them and raised them. Could they watch their own mother die and feel nothing?
Zhou Zhengxun was especially moved.
He truly wanted to fight for love one more time. But he was the eldest son of the Zhou family, a son to his father and mother.
His mother had exhausted herself for him, schemed and planned for him, gone running around in failing health. How could he bear it?
How could he cast aside family duty and filial piety to selfishly pursue true love?
Ordinary folk held an instinctive fear of the government offices, so those who dared to come to the Kaifeng Prefecture to watch the excitement of the imperial son-in-law’s trial were either seasoned locals with street smarts or educated men. These people chattered amongst themselves, finding genuine sympathy in what they heard.
Yan Tongshu ground her teeth. What a silver tongue on that man.
Slap.
She sharply struck the gavel. “Lawyer Zhao, let me remind you—this case is about abandoning one’s wife and children, and neglecting one’s biological mother. It is not about the inner workings of the marriage between Chen Sizhen and Lady Qing. Whether they married by their parents’ decree or out of personal affection does not affect the facts of the case. The law’s verdict will not be swayed by public opinion or sentiment.”
Zhao Kuangzhi bowed calmly, hands folded in salute. “Yes, Lord Yan is right. I raise these questions only to say this: the path that led this husband and wife to where they are today has deep and tangled roots, and it is not the fault of Consort Chen alone. The impurity at the very beginning of this betrothal was only the first feather that foreshadowed the tragedy of their marriage.”
