At Kaifeng Prefecture, Yan Tongshu sat in her study, staring at the mist-shrouded, pallid sky outside.
Jinbao came in to report, “Young Master, just as you predicted, Old General Wen and Lady Wen went into the palace to see His Majesty and have now come back out. Their expressions were both dreadful. The Meng family has called in every connection they have to save General Meng.”
Jinbao asked anxiously, “Young Master, is everything already set in stone? I happened to be at the palace gates when Old General Wen and Lady Wen came out. Their faces were awful, and the tears just kept falling. The old couple looked much more aged than when they came to Kaifeng Prefecture last time. Old General Wen’s hair has turned more than half white.”
Yan Tongshu’s gaze darkened. “Looks like His Majesty has told Old General Wen and the others the truth.”
Pearl said anxiously, “Young Master, what should we do? Should we go into the palace and remonstrate with him?”
“No.” Yan Tongshu ground her teeth angrily. “Why should I go begging to advise him? Do I look like I owe him something?”
Pearl asked, “Then what do we do?”
Yan Tongshu’s eyes grew darker. “He’ll come out of the palace on his own.”
Meng Yi was in the dungeon, after all.
The dog emperor had granted the Meng family a special pardon. For such a huge favor, surely he had to go to the dungeon and put on a little performance.
For example, the dog emperor would clasp Meng Yi’s hand and say, “Meng Qing, you have truly disappointed Me. These past few days, I have been sick with worry over you. Many officials have submitted memorials demanding that you be severely punished. When I look back on the past, on our friendship, our brotherhood, and your loyalty to Me…”
Then Meng Yi would kneel and say, “This subject is deeply grateful for His Majesty’s benevolence. If I am able to cling to life today, I vow to serve Your Majesty faithfully for all eternity, laboring to the end and dying in Your Majesty’s service.”
The dog emperor would hurriedly help him up. “Ah, Meng Qing, that isn’t what I meant.”
Yan Tongshu raised her middle finger at the murky gray sky.
You didn’t mean that? What a load of nonsense.
Hmph.
Sure enough, just as Yan Tongshu had expected, at dusk the next day, the dog emperor—no, Qin Yi—personally came to the dungeon in disguise to meet Meng Yi.
The corner of Yan Tongshu’s mouth twitched violently several times.
The dog emperor had even waited until the very last two or three days before deigning to come over and put on his little act.
She despised this kind of despicable, ridiculous behavior—and the despicable creature who engaged in it.
Qin Yi entered the dungeon and stayed for roughly half an hour. During that time, Yan Tongshu secretly slipped inside and listened for a short while. Sure enough, it was more or less exactly as she had expected.
The only difference was that Meng Yi spoke to Qin Yi with exceptional tact, and his performance was even more sincere.
Hah!
Dog emperor.
Yan Tongshu couldn’t stand listening any longer. She returned to her study, where she reviewed official documents while roasting meat and tofu skin.
After a while, Qin Yi emerged from the dungeon with Lu Xi.
The cold wind whistled.
The courtyard outside the dungeon had been swept clean by the yamen runners, exposing the withered grass beneath.
Qin Yi raised his brows slightly and looked toward Lu Xi. “Where is she?”
Lu Xi hesitated. “Your Majesty, do you mean…”
“Fine, fine, fine.” Qin Yi sighed three times.
Since Yan Tongshu had nothing to say, he wasn’t curious in the slightest.
Qin Yi snapped irritably, “Prepare the imperial carriage. We’re returning to the palace.”
Lu Xi said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
…
Inside the study, sheets of tofu skin had been grilled to a fragrant crisp, curling slightly at the edges, while the pork belly sizzled and dripped with fat. Yan Tongshu set the official documents aside. Pearl brought over some chili powder and sprinkled the fine red dust evenly over the tofu skin and pork belly.
With a sharp sizzle, the aroma rose. In a word, it was heavenly.
Jinbao brought over fresh charcoal and carefully raked aside the ash before adding the new pieces.
Yan Tongshu picked up a skewer of pork belly and blew on it before taking a bite. The charred richness of the fat melted across his tongue. Sure enough, when winter came, nothing beat hot pot and barbecue.
If only there were some cumin, too. Unfortunately, this dynasty had no cumin.
The three of them were still eating when a sinister voice suddenly rang out behind them.
“Yan Tongshu, did I make you Acting Prefect so you could roast meat and enjoy yourself in the Kaifeng Prefecture Office?”
Yan Tongshu froze. He hurriedly turned around and bowed alongside Pearl and Jinbao.
Qin Yi strode in and swept his gaze over the skewers in their hands. As luck would have it, they each had exactly two: one skewer of pork belly and one of tofu skin. There wasn’t a single extra skewer in sight.
Qin Yi took his seat at the head of the room. His voice sounded as though it had been forced through clenched teeth.
“Get over here.”
Oh.
Yan Tongshu rose, one barbecue skewer in each hand, and shuffled over to Qin Yi.
Qin Yi glanced at the skewer of tofu skin in Yan Tongshu’s left hand. Yan Tongshu ate it in two or three bites.
Qin Yi then looked at the pork belly in his right hand. Yan Tongshu finished that in just as few bites, tossed the bare bamboo skewers swiftly into a small basket nearby, straightened his back, and did his best to put on an air of serene composure.
Hah!
Qin Yi let out a cold laugh. Then he noticed the two letters of resignation on the desk and picked them up.
“Whose are these?”
Yan Tongshu replied with a bow, “Mine and Magistrate Zhang Jiu’s.”
Qin Yi narrowed his eyes. “Why prepare these?”
Yan Tongshu answered respectfully, “It’s always best to prepare in advance, just in case.”
“Dodging the important points.” Qin Yi slammed the letters onto the desk, making the brush holder tremble. “Answer me honestly.”
Yan Tongshu lifted his eyes and cautiously studied Qin Yi’s expression. “If I tell you, Your Majesty can’t get angry.”
Qin Yi was so furious that he nearly laughed. “You’re trying to bargain with me now?”
Yan Tongshu lowered his head, the back of his neck radiating stubbornness.
Qin Yi fought down his temper. “Speak.”
Yan Tongshu muttered, “Your Majesty makes Your Majesty’s decisions, and we subjects make our own plans. We won’t try to persuade each other, and neither of us will interfere with the other. How about that?”
Qin Yi raised a brow. “What do you mean, I make my decisions and you make your plans?”
Yan Tongshu lowered his head even further. “I wouldn’t dare say.”
Qin Yi’s temper flared. “I’m telling you to speak.”
Yan Tongshu: “I wouldn’t dare.”
Qin Yi shot to his feet and crossed the distance between them in a few strides. The words were practically ground out between his teeth.
“Yan Tongshu, is there anything in this world you don’t dare do?”
Yan Tongshu muttered softly, “Your Majesty must first pardon me for the offense. Only then will I dare speak.”
Qin Yi was driven to the brink of a heart attack.
“Fine, fine, fine!”
He pointed at Yan Tongshu, jabbing his finger in the air as he angrily declared, “Then keep it bottled up until you die. I’m not interested in hearing it anymore.”
Yan Tongshu replied in a muffled voice, “Oh.”
That single “Oh” was utterly devoid of emotion, yet it suddenly sent a surge of fury blazing through Qin Yi’s chest. At that moment, he truly wanted to tear Yan Tongshu’s head off on the spot.
Qin Yi clenched his fists.
He was certain Yan Tongshu had deliberately lured him here.
She was doing it just to infuriate him to death!
Qin Yi swept out of the room. He had taken two steps when he abruptly stopped. He glanced around, and Lu Xi, quick to take the hint, immediately pulled Pearl and Jinbao away with him, quietly withdrawing from the room.
Qin Yi drew a deep breath, returned to the seat of honor, and said in a cold, heavy voice, “Speak. I pardon you of all crimes.”
Yan Tongshu said nothing. She walked step by step to the writing desk, grinding the ink as she went. Then, with an ingratiating smile, she handed Qin Yi the brush.
“Then please write the character for ‘pardon’ for me, Your Majesty, as proof.”
Qin Yi shot her a chilly glance, took the brush, and dipped it in ink. With powerful force in his wrist, he swiftly formed a huge character for “pardon,” its rugged strokes brimming with strength and vitality.
The sycophantic smile on Yan Tongshu’s face deepened. The instant he finished the final stroke, she snatched the sheet of paper into her hands and carefully blew it dry.
Only after confirming that the ink had completely dried did she gather up her robes and kneel properly on the floor. Looking Qin Yi straight in the eye, she said, “Your Majesty, I beg leave to ask: have you already decided to grant General Meng a special pardon?”
Qin Yi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you questioning My decision?”
Yan Tongshu knelt with her back ramrod straight, her voice clear and composed. “I wouldn’t dare. I merely believe, in my heart, that this decision is foolish and short-sighted.”
After saying this, she furtively raised her eyes to study the emperor’s expression.
An eerie silence followed.
Then Qin Yi smiled.
No—not a smile. The muscles in his cheeks had pulled upward uncontrollably, forming a strange, soundless grin. In the next instant, that expression abruptly froze, transforming into the ice of deep winter.
Qin Yi’s voice was cold to the extreme. “Yan Tongshu, you’re asking to die.”
Yan Tongshu immediately held up the enormous character for “pardon” and shouted, “Your Majesty, you just pardoned me!”
“Very well, very well.” The veins at Qin Yi’s temples throbbed violently. “Today, you will explain exactly how I am being foolish and short-sighted. If you fail to make yourself clear, then even if I have pardoned your life, I can still banish you to the ends of the earth, never to return to court.”
Yan Tongshu’s entire face was hidden behind the enormous character for “pardon,” so she rolled her eyes without the slightest restraint.
So what if he sent her away?
At the ends of the earth, where the sky was high and the emperor was far away, she could serve as an official in peace. She had no idea how carefree that would be.
Besides, she would be able to eat lychees—fresh lychees, far better than anything in the capital.
Hmph.
Dog emperor.
She cursed him inwardly, while maintaining an expression of respect on the surface.
Yan Tongshu lowered the sheet of paper just enough to reveal her bright, utterly unflinching eyes, then began in an even voice:
“The Meng family has produced generals for three generations and commands immense prestige within the military. The members of the Meng family were once loyal to the late emperor, and afterward loyal to Your Majesty. Your Majesty believes that showing mercy to Meng Yi will win the Meng family’s greater loyalty, and let more people see that loyalty to Your Majesty can be rewarded. That will encourage them to place themselves under Your Majesty’s command and make them even more willing to serve you.”
Yan Tongshu lowered the sheet of xuan paper a few inches more and met Qin Yi’s gaze head-on. “Your Majesty, what if I told you that you’re wrong?”
Qin Yi’s eyes suddenly darkened, like a deep sea gathering a storm. Yan Tongshu had no doubt that, in that instant, Qin Yi truly wanted to kill her.
“Your Majesty.” Yan Tongshu pressed on. “In the twenty-sixth year of Ganfeng, when you heard that no mastermind had been found, did you hate them? Your Majesty, in the twenty-sixth year of Ganfeng, the late emperor disappointed you and allowed your elder brother to die with his grievance unresolved. You were heartbroken. You were furious. You said that if factional strife had come to this, what future could the nation possibly have?”
She paused briefly, then slowed her speech, giving each word greater weight. “And now? Your Majesty, what are you doing? Engaging in factional strife?”
The Late Crown Prince was Qin Yi’s elder brother by the same father and mother. More than ten years his senior, he had practically watched Qin Yi grow up.
Factional strife was the deepest, most painful, and most untouchable wound in Qin Yi’s heart.
“Yan—Tong—shu!” The veins on Qin Yi’s neck stood out as his voice turned sharply cold. “How dare you!”
“Your Majesty!” Almost at the same moment Qin Yi roared, Yan Tongshu raised the sheet bearing the character “Amnesty” high above her head. It was her only protection.
Qin Yi’s chest heaved violently. He stared at the “Amnesty” character, its strokes seeming to pierce straight through the paper. In the end, he pressed his lips tightly together and forcibly suppressed the fury surging within him.
Seeing that Qin Yi had calmed down—if only a little—Yan Tongshu did her best to keep her voice steady. “Your Majesty, you hate factional strife, and so do many others. I despise it. Zhang Jiu loathes it. Li Fulin may say nothing, but he detests factional strife in his heart as well. So does Yu Ping, along with countless other commoners and officials.
“Your Majesty, factional strife is a whirlpool that swallows everything. Today, you chose to engage in it. You think you have won yourself a bargaining chip; you think the benefits before you are your reward. You are wrong. This is not a reward. This is the first stone being removed from the bridge beneath the Late Crown Prince’s feet.
“The truth is, no sane person likes factional strife. The people in Prince Ming’s faction, the Grand Academician of the Longtu Pavilion’s faction, and the countless ordinary people in factions both great and small—none of them like it. Some even loathe it. And yet, look at your court. Everyone is taking sides. Everyone belongs to one faction or another. Why? Because they have no other choice. It is the late emperor’s indulgence that has allowed factional strife to oppress them. If they do not choose a faction and pledge their allegiance, they will never have a chance to rise. They may even lose their lives.
“Your Majesty, do you think those people scrambling for petty gains, those forced to join factions—do you think they hate factional strife? They do. Factional strife uses them as sacrifices in the struggle for power. They never wanted to be dragged into such a vicious environment. They are watching. They are waiting, restless and ready to move. They are waiting for a wise ruler, watching to see whether you are that ruler. As long as you are, they will dare to rise against factional strife—to fight for a way to live, for themselves and for their descendants.”
“But you spared Meng Yi today. What about tomorrow? They’ll start wondering whom the Emperor will spare next. As long as they choose the right side, they can murder, commit arson, embezzle, and take bribes with impunity. This world was never truly clean to begin with, so why not wallow in filth together? Today, you may have won over the Meng family, but you’ve lost the people’s trust. You think you’re purging the factional strife, when in reality you’re aiding the wicked. You think you’ve gained an immediate advantage, but you’ve lost the trust of the court officials who could have helped you eradicate that strife.”
“The Meng family is different.” Provoked into genuine fury by Yan Tongshu, Qin Yi’s voice turned cold and severe. “The Mengs have served the dynasty loyally for generations and won countless victories in battle. They have shed blood and sacrificed their lives for the country. They are the pillars of the nation. They guard the borders and protect the people…”
“And what of it?” Yan Tongshu shot back.
Qin Yi clenched his teeth, each word heavy with conviction. “In the public interest, their achievements are unparalleled. They have rendered outstanding service to the state and its people. In private, Meng Yi once saved My life, and the Meng family sacrificed one of their sons to save Me. Meng Yi is their only son now.”
“Wen Qian was only twenty-one when he died. He was someone else’s child too!” Yan Tongshu drew a deep breath, struggling to suppress the fury Qin Yi had stirred within her.
No.
She could not lose control. She had to remain restrained.
Only by keeping her composure could she hold on to the limits of a conversation with the Emperor.
She had to be a remonstrating minister who spoke frankly and offered advice, so that Qin Yi would remember that everything she did was for his sake, and spare the Yan family by blaming only her.
Suppressing her sharpness, Yan Tongshu said evenly, “Your Majesty, Wen Qian was someone else’s child too, and his life was no less precious. The Meng family has rendered great service, but merit is merit, and guilt is guilt. If everyone can kill without consequence simply because of their past achievements, then does that mean I, too, may kill someone today by relying on the merits I earned in the past?
“If that is the case, human lives will be treated like blades of grass, and the factional strife will not end. It will only grow more intense. Because as long as enough interests are tied to them, Your Majesty will not move against them—is that not so? To put it plainly, Your Majesty, in your efforts to destroy Prince Ming’s faction, you have now become the core of the factional struggle itself. You are the one driving it forward, suppressing one faction in favor of another!”
“Yan Tongshu, that’s enough!” Qin Yi roared in fury, the veins at his temples throbbing. “I thought that by now you would understand what the greater picture is, and what the prevailing circumstances demand…”
“I do understand.” Yan Tongshu’s gaze was resolute as she cut him off. “I understand the greater picture, and I know the circumstances.”
She lowered the sheet of paper. “But I cannot accept this. Under these vast, bright heavens and beneath this clear sun and moon, is there truly no justice?”
“Outrageous!” Qin Yi exploded.
Yan Tongshu once again held up the character for “Pardon,” gripping it firmly.
“What a Yan Tongshu. Good. Very good!”
Furious beyond measure, Qin Yi laughed instead. He repeated the word “good” several times before finally sweeping out of the room with a vicious flick of his sleeve.
…
Late that night, Qin Yi awoke from a dream.
He sat up on the imperial couch, his forehead clammy and cold, covered in sweat.
Lu Xi hurriedly brought a lamp over. “Your Majesty, shall I have some calming tea prepared?”
Qin Yi shook his head.
He pressed a palm to his forehead, his fingers tightening slightly. Restlessness, exhaustion, and irritation gnawed at his composure like parasites burrowing into his bones.
He was sick of hearing the words: “The factional strife will not end. It will only grow more intense.”
He was sick of every word Yan Tongshu had said.
Those words slammed recklessly through his mind, tearing at it with manic force, until his head felt as though it were about to explode.
What did she mean by saying that everyone was taking sides, that everyone belonged to their own faction? What did she mean by saying that any normal person would loathe factional strife?
Murder and arson, embezzlement and bribery—how could the Meng family, loyal for generations and known for its incorruptible integrity, ever do such things?
Qin Yi’s head throbbed. He closed his eyes, trying to drive away the chaos in his mind, yet the words he himself had once spoken rang with startling clarity in his ears.
He had said: If the court is consumed by factional strife, what future can the nation possibly have?
Factional strife?
Factional strife, factional strife, factional strife!!!
Those two words were a curse, beating against every nerve like a torrential downpour.
Qin Yi was nearly driven mad.
Yan Tongshu—what a Yan Tongshu she was. She truly knew how to drive a needle straight into the place where he hurt most!
From the moment he had ascended as Crown Prince, he had studied the arts of an emperor, learned the ways of controlling his ministers, and devoted himself to plotting how to pacify the realm and secure the nation.
And now, he had actually been forced into an impossible dilemma, his thoughts thrown into turmoil, by a mere Yan Tongshu.
At last, he understood why the late emperor had elevated Yan Tongshu in name while secretly demoting her, sending this traitorous rebel to Xianlin Hall.
She was utterly outrageous—stubborn, pedantic, and impervious to reason.
She was the source of all this trouble!
Qin Yi sat motionless until dawn, then changed into his imperial robes and went to court.
At Zichen Hall,
he sat high upon the imperial throne, lowering his eyes to survey the court—and the empire.
Once again, those two words echoed in his mind: factional strife.
Every last one of them was forming cliques and taking sides.
There were no absolute loyalties, only interests.
For the sake of their factions’ interests, they could keep their eyes open and spout lies, twist black into white, and blur right and wrong.
And yet these same people had once spoken with a single voice.
Qin Yi felt a headache coming on.
When had that been?
It seemed to have happened only recently, yet he suddenly could not remember.
He suddenly recalled Yan Tongshu saying that attending court was truly painful.
Indeed. Only today had he realized just how painful it could be.
After court was dismissed, Qin Yi sat before the imperial desk as time passed by, minute after minute.
The time for Meng Yi’s execution was drawing closer and closer.
Lu Xi placed the imperial edict drafted long ago by the Secretariat beside Qin Yi’s hand.
The edict was unfurled. Every word was reasonable, properly phrased, and in perfect accordance with protocol.
All he had to do was press the imperial seal onto it, and everything would be decided.
Qin Yi stared at the imperial seal for a long while—so long that Lu Xi thought he had entered a trance.
At dusk, Qin Yi suddenly changed his clothes, left the palace, and went to the residence of the Late Crown Prince.
The Late Crown Prince’s Princess Consort, Tang Shiqi, was playing with a little girl in the courtyard.
The child wore a bright red padded jacket. In winter, with one layer of clothing over another, the three-year-old looked so small that, from a distance, she resembled a chubby little ball rolling through the snow.
When Tang Shiqi saw Qin Yi, she hurriedly signaled for the wet nurse to carry the child away. She turned and bowed, but Qin Yi helped her up.
“Sister-in-law, there’s no need for that between us.”
Tang Shiqi nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Seeing that Qin Yi’s face was pale, she smiled and said, “Your Majesty, it’s cold outside. Let’s go inside and warm ourselves.”
Qin Yi nodded.
The two of them entered the room, where the floor brazier had made the entire chamber warm and cozy.
Tang Shiqi poured Qin Yi a cup of tea.
Qin Yi asked, “That little girl just now was adorable. Whose child is she?”
Tang Shiqi smiled gently. “She’s my grandaunt’s daughter. That little imp is sharp as a tack—clever and quick-witted.”
Qin Yi said, “I see.”
He lifted his teacup, his gaze slowly sweeping across the furnishings of the hall. So many years had passed since the Late Crown Prince’s death, yet the room remained just as it had been, not a single thing changed.
Was it because she could not bear to alter anything that reminded her of him—or because she was still waiting for him?
The late emperor had many children, and the late empress had died young.
Qin Yi was the younger brother his eldest brother had raised with his own hands.
His first time riding a horse, his first time drawing a bow, his first time taking up a sword… Even the first time he had been reported to his tutor for neglecting his studies and had his palms struck with a ruler—all of it had been done by his own elder brother.
There was little affection in the imperial family, but his elder brother had become an umbrella over him, sheltering him beneath it and giving him a carefree childhood.
And yet he had died such an unjust, stifling death.
The Crown Prince of a great empire, a man gifted in statecraft, had died on a bridge built with shoddy materials.
The heir to the realm had lost his life on Hong Bridge, yet no mastermind was ever found.
Qin Yi remembered how he had frantically tried to find the culprit. In the end, he had stood with his sword drawn, looking in every direction, his heart full of hatred—yet he had not known whom to strike.
Who was truly responsible?
Who was the real murderer?
Everyone had taken just a little. Only a little.
What they took was even reasonable, lawful, and legitimate in itself. It was only that, while taking their little shares, they had dug pits for others and paved roads for themselves. Through a chain of misfortunes, they had ended up bringing about the Crown Prince’s death.
How laughable.
Great ambitions, brought down by an ant hole.
The noblest of the imperial bloodline, destroyed by factional strife.
Qin Yi swallowed, his voice slightly hoarse. “Sister-in-law, do you miss my elder brother?”
Tang Shiqi nodded, then shook her head.
Seeing the confusion on Qin Yi’s face, she curved her brows and eyes into a smile. “How could I think of him every day? Would I still be able to live my life? Now that you’ve ascended the throne, Your Majesty, I believe his wishes will soon be fulfilled. When that day comes, I won’t think of him anymore. I’ll go and live my own life.”
Is that so?
His wishes?
Qin Yi gazed toward the somber gray sky beyond the window.
In truth, he had heard those wishes once before. He had been standing outside the Chui Gong Hall, listening as his elder brother argued with their father.
His elder brother had told the emperor that factional strife was ruining the country. Again and again, he had cited examples from history; again and again, he had pleaded with their father not to continue indulging it.
Their father had said that factional strife had existed in every dynasty and could neither be stopped nor abolished. Wherever there were people, there would be factions; wherever there were interests, there would be alliances. Factional strife was neither good nor evil—it all depended on how the ruler used it.
But it was not the same.
Factional strife could never be eradicated completely, but it could be restrained. It could not simply be allowed to grow unchecked, allowed to swell from a trickling stream into a rushing river, then into an uncontrollable sea—whipping up monstrous waves while claiming that those waves could keep one another in check.
Even if monstrous waves restrained one another, they would still surge forward together, carrying everything in their path. They would smash the dams, drown the fertile fields, corrode the human heart, destroy the foundations, and shake the nation to its core.
His elder brother had knelt on the floor and pleaded bitterly.
The emperor had not listened. Instead, he had ordered him home to reflect on his actions.
Then his elder brother had been sent to Jiangnan to oversee disaster relief.
Sometimes Qin Yi wondered whether Hong Bridge’s collapse had truly been an accident—or whether it had been factional strife’s revenge against his elder brother.
Looking back now, his elder brother had already seen the danger of factional strife corrupting the country before he even set out.
But their father had insisted on going his own way.
Qin Yi remained silent, perhaps having sensed something. Tang Shiqi gave him a faint smile. “Your Majesty, did you know? Not long ago, it was Elder Sister Zhang’s younger son’s hundredth-day celebration. I went to see the little one, too. He was fair and plump, absolutely adorable. The only thing was, he inherited his father’s monolid eyes, which gave Elder Sister Zhang quite a lot to complain about.”
Qin Yi said, “Is that so?”
He did not seem particularly interested.
Tang Shiqi said lightly, “By my calculations, if Song Zhi hadn’t died, and Zhang Jiu had passed the palace examination as Third Scholar and married her, their first child would be old enough to run by now.”
Qin Yi frowned slightly. “Song Zhi?”
Tang Shiqi’s eyes filled with surprise. “Your Majesty, you didn’t know? Song Zhi—the Miss Song who was the daughter of Song Shen, the governor of Jiangnan, and Zhang Jiu’s betrothed. Ever since Song Zhi died, Zhang Jiu has neither married nor been willing to meet any prospective brides. Leaving aside Uncle and Aunt Zhang, even Elder Sister Zhang often confides her worries to me.”
Qin Yi asked, “When did you come to know someone like that?”
Tang Shiqi said, “How should I put it?”
Her eyes revealed an undisguised sorrow.
“It was in the twenty-sixth year of Qianfeng.”
Tang Shiqi recounted the Song family’s story in detail.
Her voice was soft and gentle, yet the story she told was a cruel one.
Qin Yi left the residence of the Late Crown Prince and walked along the main street.
He had been thirteen that year, entirely consumed by grief over his elder brother’s murder. He had paid no attention at all to the other people involved in the case.
It seemed he had never realized that in the twenty-sixth year of Qianfeng, the victims of the factional struggle had not been limited to the Late Crown Prince. The entire Song family had perished as well—and perhaps there had been even more.
The only thing that survived was the factional struggle itself.
He walked back and forth along the main street again and again.
Night fell. Lanterns hung high overhead, yet they did not herald the coming dawn. Instead, they only made the sky appear even darker.
“Wow! Pearl, look! Grilled pig’s trotters and spiral-roasted pork skin!”
At the familiar voice, Qin Yi instinctively turned to look.
Yan Tongshu was pulling Pearl and Jinbao to sit down at a food stall.
Excitedly, she ordered one and a half grilled pig’s trotters and thirty skewers of spiral-roasted pork skin.
Each trotter was split in half before being roasted over the coals. One and a half trotters meant that each of the three of them would get half, while the thirty skewers of pork skin gave them ten each.
Qin Yi was once again angered into laughter.
Yan Tongshu’s words had left him inexplicably irritable and unsettled, while this fellow was enjoying life to the fullest.
Very good. Very good indeed.
Once this matter was over, he would banish this fellow to the ends of the earth!
Qin Yi turned and walked away.
When the owner heard a customer place an order, he cheerfully called out, “Coming right up!”
The charcoal fire cast a ruddy glow over his face as he grabbed several handfuls of pork-skin skewers and laid them over the coals.
Just then, the proprietress called out with a smile, “Three guests, food like this is a bit dry on its own. Would you like something to drink?”
Yan Tongshu looked curiously at the copper pot in her hand. “What’s inside?”
“Sweet rice wine,” the proprietress replied. “It’s been simmered with shredded ginger and dried orange peel. It’ll warm you right up.”
“Yes, please!” Yan Tongshu raised her hand. “Three bowls.”
“No, no, no, no!”
The moment they heard the word “wine,” Pearl and Jinbao panicked. They still hadn’t forgotten the last time their young master had gotten drunk and gone on a rampage, beating Lord Meng.
If he got drunk again and started causing a scene in the street, they wouldn’t be able to restrain their young master.
Pearl shouted, “Young master! You can’t drink alcohol.”
Yan Tongshu defended himself. “It’s rice wine.”
The proprietress chimed in, “That’s right. It’s brewed from our own grain, so it’s not strong. And this wine was heated, so most of the alcohol has evaporated. It’s sweet. Isn’t that right, old man?”
The proprietor immediately agreed. “Of course. I usually drink eight or ten bowls of it and can still climb onto the roof to patch the tiles.”
Really?
Pearl and Jinbao exchanged a glance, both highly skeptical.
But the proprietress and her husband sounded utterly convincing, while Yan Tongshu was eager to give it a try. The two of them nodded in agreement, though they remained dubious.
The proprietress brought out three bowls and placed them on the table. She lifted the copper pot, and pale-yellow rice wine streamed into the bowls, smooth as milk.
Yan Tongshu raised a bowl and took a sip. It was faintly sweet, with a hint of spice from the ginger shreds. The flavor of tangerine peel was just right, making the taste rich yet refreshing.
Yan Tongshu drained the bowl in one go. “Another.”
“Coming right up.” The proprietress immediately filled it again.
Before long, the roasted pig’s feet and spiral-roasted pork skin were brought to the table. The three of them drank and ate together.
A little wine with barbecue—life at its finest.
While Yan Tongshu was enjoying himself, Qin Yi was growing increasingly displeased.
He left the bustling night market and suddenly stopped, muttering to himself, “Something’s not right.”
He, Qin Yi, was Yan Tongshu’s sovereign. He was the one fretting over the matter, yet Yan Tongshu, his subject, not only refused to help him solve his troubles, but after angering him, she wasn’t even worried about being demoted or dismissed. Instead, she was happily eating grilled meat?!
She had only eaten it once yesterday—two skewers, one in each hand. Right in front of him, she hadn’t even asked whether he wanted any. Without the slightest hesitation, she had taken one bite after another, eating until her mouth was slick with grease.
Why should she get to?!
Why was he the one who had to leave?
It should have been Yan Tongshu who departed on her own, trembling with fear and worrying about what would happen to her.
Qin Yi turned around viciously and went to look for Yan Tongshu.
He wanted to see just how many skewers Yan Tongshu could still manage to eat with him standing right in front of her!
