Seeing that Xie Langyang had been rendered speechless by the questioning, Gong Zhiyuan immediately took over, speaking neither hurriedly nor slowly. “Wen Zhuo is silver-tongued, while Minister Xie is honest but inarticulate. Naturally, he cannot outargue him. But since this matter concerns my daughter, I have no choice but to stand forth and offer a few words in her defense.
“When Hengze first entered public service, he and my daughter Yuwen were happily joined in marriage. After several years together, they have treated each other with mutual respect, living in perfect harmony. The entire court has witnessed this, and it is more than enough to prove that he is a man of upright character. As for what happened at the Qingliang Palace back then, he pleaded for the Sixth Prince only because he sympathized with His Majesty’s deep affection for his own child. It was nothing more than an act of loyalty to the Emperor.”
His tone abruptly changed, and he said solemnly, “By contrast, Wen Zhuo is already twenty-five, yet he has stubbornly refused to marry. No matter who tries to arrange a match for him, he always finds some glib excuse to decline. Does Your Majesty not find that strange? He boasts of living a life unrestrained by convention and frequents the pleasure houses. Your Majesty may summon those women and question them personally—let us see whether Wen Zhuo has ever truly shared their beds. This matter concerns the law and the dignity of the imperial court. I respectfully request that the Ministry of Justice conduct a rigorous investigation. The truth will surely be forced out!”
When Xie Langyang had produced that letter, “The Ode to the Evening Mountains,” Gong Zhiyuan’s heart had already been thrown into turmoil. The thought that Xie Langyang had harbored such feelings for Wen Zhuo made him sick to his stomach.
Yet he and Xie Langyang were both members of Shen Chen’s faction. Victory or defeat would be decided here. No matter how disgusted he felt, he could only suppress it and join forces with Xie Langyang.
When devising this plan, Gong Zhiyuan had calculated that Xie Langyang had been married for several years and that his harmonious marriage would be the best possible shield. Wen Zhuo’s attempt to drag him into the matter would be nothing but a fool’s fantasy.
Sure enough, the moment Gong Zhiyuan finished speaking, voices of agreement rang out through the hall.
“Yes, why has Director Wen refused to marry all these years?”
“I remember that when he first returned to the capital, Chancellor Chen intended to match him with his own niece. She was such a gentle and refined young woman. But who would have thought that Wen Zhuo would spend five days frequenting the pleasure houses, frightening the old Chancellor into never mentioning the proposal again?”
“He has never lacked beautiful women around him, yet he refuses to take even a concubine. It truly is most unusual!”
“Look at the lines in ‘The Ode to the Evening Mountains.’ Could it be that he really is honoring some promise?”
Xie Langyang kept his forehead pressed hard against the floor. All the blood in his body surged into his head, making his eyes throb painfully, while the veins at his neck bulged as though they might burst.
He heard himself say, “Your Majesty! In the seventh year of Wucheng, Crown Prince Xiyan became infatuated with the entertainer Qingjue, neglecting the Eastern Palace and abandoning his duties within the imperial household. The Founding Emperor was enraged and bestowed death upon him, issuing an edict throughout the realm to uphold moral order.
“In the ninth year of Songde, a scandal involving male courtesans erupted in the capital region. The case implicated distinguished scholars and pillars of the court alike. Emperor Songde followed the ancestral law and gave a single order. All one hundred and twenty-eight men were brought to justice and beheaded.
“In the tenth year of Jiaping, the Grand Preceptor of the Crown Prince secretly kept male favorites, bringing disgrace upon the realm of letters. The Crown Prince first submitted a memorial and performed the rites of dismissing his teacher, then proceeded to the palace gates to present the matter personally to his imperial father, before offering his former teacher a cup of poisoned wine with his own hands.
“In the third year of Qitai, the people of Lianzhou suffered from barren land and grinding poverty. Men too poor to afford betrothal gifts found themselves unable to marry, and some began forming sworn brotherly unions, corrupting the customs of the countryside. When news reached the court, the Emperor was furious. Once the matter came to light, tens of thousands were implicated, and all were subjected to the law.
“And there was the case of the young attendant in the eleventh year of Zhaoxi, and the Thatched Hall case in the nineteenth year of Kangzhen… Every one of them was beyond pardon. Now they lie buried beneath the yellow earth, glaring at Your Majesty! I implore Your Majesty to follow the teachings of the ancestors and uphold the majesty of the law!”
Seeing his opportunity, Luo Mingpu immediately seized it. He shuffled forward on his knees, his words impassioned and indignant. “I implore Your Majesty to follow the teachings of the ancestors and uphold the majesty of the law! Grant the Ministry of Justice permission to investigate this case thoroughly and restore a spirit of righteousness to the court of Great Qian!”
The imperial court was never lacking in men who envied the capable and resented the worthy. When they saw an empty high office within reach, they were willing to kick a man while he was down, even if they had never held any personal grudge against him before.
“I implore Your Majesty to follow the teachings of the ancestors and uphold the majesty of the law!”
“I implore Your Majesty to follow the teachings of the ancestors and uphold the majesty of the law!”
…
The cries for imperial sanction rose and fell throughout the Hall of Martial Valor, surging relentlessly toward the sovereign seated upon the throne—the doubtful monarch who sat above them all.
So many people had already died. So many were still watching. He was the Son of Heaven, ruler of ten thousand miles of territory, and yet he was also a beast trapped in a cage, forced to live by the opinions of the masses.
He could not yet determine whether Xie Langyang had ulterior motives or whether Wen Zhuo had truly defied the laws of the realm.
But the ode did look genuine, and Wen Zhuo’s refusal to marry for so many years was indeed suspicious.
“Wen Zhuo, do you have anything else to say?” Emperor Shunyuan’s voice grew steadily lower. The trust and reliance he had once placed in Wen Zhuo had quietly developed a crack.
For a fleeting moment, he seemed to glimpse a faint light through that crack. The face of someone from long ago remained unchanged, and a pair of eyes identical to Wen Zhuo’s gazed at him, filling his heart with lingering dread.
Wen Zhuo seemed to have anticipated this scene long ago. Despite the deafening denunciations filling the hall, he remained as unmoving as a mountain. With a self-mocking smile, he said, “When a man is determined to accuse someone, he will never lack for excuses. In my eight years of public service, I have formed no factions, accepted no bribes, and wielded no personal power. If someone wishes to remove me in order to clear the way for another man’s advancement, then fabricating a crime is likely the only path left to them. Since that is the case, I am willing to submit myself and let the investigation proceed.”
Emperor Shunyuan nodded. “Very well…”
Seeing that the Emperor was about to issue his decree, Xue Chongnian could no longer restrain himself. He glanced left and right. Every civil and military official in the court was protecting his own interests, and no one was willing to speak a word of fairness on Wen Zhuo’s behalf.
At last, Xue Chongnian stamped his foot and stepped forward, forcing himself to speak.
“Your Majesty, this matter concerns an official of the imperial court. Whether it is a violation of morality and human relations or a deliberate frame-up should not be decided by the Ministry of Justice alone. I respectfully request that the Three Judicial Offices conduct a joint hearing, so that Your Majesty’s reputation for impartiality may be preserved!”
He had always kept his head down and avoided trouble, afraid of inviting disaster. But over the past two years, Wen Zhuo had offered him considerable guidance and support. If he stood by now and allowed Luo Mingpu to torture a confession out of Wen Zhuo, he feared he would never again be able to sleep or eat in peace.
Luo Mingpu was about to speak again, but Emperor Shunyuan raised a hand and stopped him.
“Granted.”
Xue Chongnian finally let out a breath of relief and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
“Xie Langyang is to remain at home under investigation, while continuing to handle the affairs of the Ministry of Personnel as usual.” Emperor Shunyuan surveyed the assembled officials, his expression stern and imposing. Each word came down like a hammer. “Wen Zhuo, Director of the Hanlin Academy, is suspended pending investigation and will be held temporarily at the Grand Court of Review until his hearing.”
Wen Zhuo lowered his hands and bowed. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
His imprisonment had been part of his calculations from the beginning. He would rather throw himself into the snare than let the Emperor see with his own eyes how a solitary official with no faction or allies—an honored minister whom the Emperor relied upon—could be denounced by the entire court and cast into prison over nothing more than an old composition, left unable to defend himself.
The power to determine guilt through words and writings, to eliminate political enemies under the guise of justice—today it had been turned against him. Tomorrow, it could point its blade at the imperial throne.
Emperor Shunyuan paused, then added, “Wen Zhuo need not be stripped. He may be spared the cangue and fetters.”
Xue Chongnian was startled at first, then hurriedly replied, “Your servant obeys!”
Outside the hall, the fine snow had not let up. Snowflakes struck the glazed tiles of the palace roof, leaving behind a string of cold, damp marks.
Those awaiting trial were not entitled to the privileges granted to officials. Following behind the imperial guards, Wen Zhuo drew his thick cloak closer around himself and stepped into the swirling snow and sleet. The chill slipped in through his collar, making him shiver faintly.
Even so, his back remained straight as bamboo, and his steps were measured and unhurried, as though he were not walking a rugged road toward disgrace, but ascending a broad and level path to the clouds.
Gu Weizhi’s eyes were crimson. He snatched the oiled-paper umbrella that a young eunuch had prepared for the ministers and hurried toward Wen Zhuo.
But just as he was about to catch up, Wen Zhuo turned and fixed him in place with a single look.
Gu Weizhi gripped the umbrella, his fingertips turning white. His throat tightened with a sob, and before long, his hair and topknot were soaked through.
The sky was not cold enough, and the snow was too insubstantial. To Wen Zhuo, it was no different from being drenched in a cold rain.
Xue Chongnian passed by him, unable to contain his indignation. “Lord Gu is in a panic now, but where was his voice in court?”
He had always been close to Gu Weizhi. Back then, it was only through his forceful recommendation that Gu Weizhi had entered the Ministry of Revenue. Yet Gu Weizhi’s silence in court today had left him utterly disappointed.
Gu Weizhi was unable to explain himself. He could only turn around and angrily point the tip of his umbrella at Xie Langyang, who had just stepped out of the hall. “You just wait! I’d like to see whether the Xie family of Nanzhou can withstand a thorough investigation by the Ministry of Revenue!”
Xie Langyang raised a hand to wipe the dust from his forehead. He was unmoved by Gu Weizhi’s fury. Instead, he said to Luo Mingpu, “The practice of relations between men has been gradually spreading throughout the court. Thanks to His Majesty’s benevolence, no major case has yet been made of it to strike fear into the people. Why don’t we take this opportunity and use Wen Zhuo to…”
Luo Mingpu gave a cold laugh and patted Xie Langyang on the shoulder. “I understand. Once Wen Zhuo is convicted, those flies without a master will have reached the end of their luck as well.”
Gong Zhiyuan stroked his beard, disordered by the wind, his brows faintly furrowed. “It is only a pity that His Majesty still intends to show Wen Zhuo some mercy. Not only has he permitted the Three Judicial Offices to conduct a joint trial, he has even spared him the cangue.”
Xie Langyang did not answer. His gaze passed over the crowd and came to rest on that thin figure in the distance.
Amid the endless fine snow, Wen Zhuo walked farther and farther away. A string of shallow footprints was soon covered by fresh snow, leaving him with an overwhelming sense of emptiness.
For the rest of their long lives, would they truly never have the chance to meet again?
A cold gust of wind came sweeping from somewhere, sending a mist of snow crashing against his face. Xie Langyang abruptly returned to his senses, only to see that Gu Weizhi had regained his composure. A powerful unease suddenly seized his heart.
“Why did Jun Dingyuan and Gu Weizhi not plead for Wen Zhuo in court just now?”
Luo Mingpu was startled, clearly not expecting him to ask about it so suddenly. “That… They were naturally afraid of being implicated.”
“No!” Xie Langyang rejected the explanation outright. At the very least, Gu Weizhi had never been afraid of being implicated by Wen Zhuo. In his previous life, he had rather be demoted and die of illness on the road than impeach Wen Zhuo.
Xie Langyang turned to face him. “His Highness said that if anyone pleaded for Wen Zhuo, it would confirm that he was involved in forming a faction for personal gain, proving that he was no solitary loyalist. His Majesty would only become more suspicious of him. Yet Gu Weizhi was so furious just now, and still he held his tongue in court, watching helplessly as Wen Zhuo was sent to prison… It is far too strange.”
Gong Zhiyuan’s expression darkened as he looked deeply at Xie Langyang. “What are you trying to say?”
Wen Zhuo had caused Xie Langyang too much suffering. Once bitten by a snake, one remained wary of ropes for ten years. His expression filled with concern as he said, “Unless Wen Zhuo already knew that I would impeach him, and that he would be imprisoned. He must have instructed Jun Dingyuan and Gu Weizhi beforehand, telling them that under no circumstances were they to speak.”
Gong Zhiyuan said, “Are you saying that he is willing to sacrifice himself in order to preserve the Fifth Prince’s strength?”
Xie Langyang remained silent. He neither nodded nor shook his head.
The only time Wen Zhuo had ever been left helpless was when he had suffered betrayal from one of his own. Since he had been able to predict today’s impeachment, how could he possibly sit back and await his fate?
Yet the handwriting on the “Ode to the Late Mountain” was genuine, as were the feelings expressed in it. The evidence was conclusive. On what grounds could he possibly turn the situation around?
Once again, Wen Zhuo stood outside the prison gates of the Court of Judicial Review. With a creak, the door hinge exhaled the moldy stench of old years and the sharp reek of blood.
Wen Zhuo was not as frightened as he had imagined he would be. Perhaps Shen Zheng’s presence had already diminished those nightmares by more than half.
He drew in a breath of cool air and stepped into the dim corridor.
Xue Chongnian personally escorted him inside and chose the innermost cell for him, away from the draft that swept through the passageway.
The damp straw mat on the floor had been replaced with a new one, layered with thick hemp cloth. It was soft beneath his feet and did not prick him.
The drafty lattice window had been stuffed with fluffy cotton, leaving only a narrow slit for ventilation. The candle burned steadily, bathing the small cell in a warm glow.
By His Majesty’s grace, Wen Zhuo did not have to wear a cangue or change into prison clothes. Still, remaining in the scarlet robes of a first-rank official would have looked absurd. Xue Chongnian rubbed his hands awkwardly and said, “I’ve already sent someone to the Wen residence. Miss Liu will bring two sets of winter clothes. Your official robe from the Directorate was soaked by the snow, so you should change out of it to avoid catching cold.”
Wen Zhuo’s fingers tightened around the edge of his fur cloak, trembling faintly. He knelt on the straw mat and held both hands close to the candle flame for warmth. “Thank you.”
Xue Chongnian had a jailer bring over a bowl of hot water. Taking advantage of the fact that no one else was around, he lowered his voice and said, “Director Wen, although I am the Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review, this is still a joint trial by the Three Judicial Offices, so I cannot overstep too far. The prison is crude, but this is all I can do. If there is anything else you need, I will do my best to arrange it.”
The candle flame flickered, casting its light across Wen Zhuo’s face and outlining his delicate features. He smiled. “This is already very good.”
And it truly was good enough. In his previous life, after Shen Chen ascended the throne, he had appointed Xie Langyang as Grand Secretary and driven Gong Zhiyuan to the position of Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review, while forcing Xue Chongnian out.
Wen Zhuo had suffered every kind of torment in this prison, to the point that he had wished himself dead.
Now, with a warm mat, hot water, and a candle that would not be extinguished, he could endure until the end with ease.
“The trial will likely begin tomorrow,” Xue Chongnian reminded him. “Director Wen, you should think about how you intend to respond.”
“Mm. I know what I’m doing,” Wen Zhuo said.
Thanks to Xue Chongnian’s accommodations, Wen Zhuo had barely begun sneezing from the cold when Liu Qiying came rushing in, carrying a bundle half her height.
Wen Zhuo stared at the enormous bundle, speechless for a moment.
When Liu Qiying saw that Wen Zhuo’s hair was still damp, her brows immediately shot up. “My lord, did you get soaked?”
Wen Zhuo hesitated, then nodded.
Liu Qiying glared at him at once. “Then I’ll find a way to trick the old physician into coming into the prison and sharing a cell with you. That way it will be more convenient, and you can go on treating your body however you please!”
Wen Zhuo considered this for a moment and said seriously, “That doesn’t sound bad. The old physician seems quite resistant to being worn out.”
Liu Qiying refused to let the matter drop. She surveyed the tiny cell, reached out to touch the blackened wall, then lifted the straw mat. Her voice was full of disgust. “The walls are so filthy. Who knows what kind of grime is stuck to them? The straw mat is far too hard. You’ve always been so delicate, my lord—how are you supposed to sleep on this? And I wanted to ask the moment I arrived: what is that smell? Why is there no ventilation at all—”
“A-Liu.” Wen Zhuo gently interrupted her. “Don’t cry.”
Liu Qiying fell silent at once. She bit down hard on her lower lip and turned her head away.
“You can carry out what I instructed you to do.”
Liu Qiying managed to force out a nasal “Mm.”
Wen Zhuo handed her the damp fur cloak and official robe. A cold smile curved his lips. “Don’t worry. When have you ever seen me miscalculate? Xie Langyang’s death is at hand.”
Liu Qiying’s eyes were red, but her tongue remained as sharp as ever. “Once His Highness returns from Jinhai, I’ll certainly report you to him. You should think about what of yours is at hand as well.”
Wen Zhuo was puzzled. “What of mine could be at hand?”
After watching Liu Qiying leave, the prison fell silent once more. Wen Zhuo could no longer hold himself together. His throat suddenly began to itch, and he broke into a fit of coughing.
An ordinary person would have flushed red from coughing so violently, but Wen Zhuo’s face was as pale as paper.
He had walked through the rain and snow for so long in wet clothes. Just as expected, the chill in his body flared up on schedule.
His back felt as though a heavy stone had been placed upon it. His entire body went limp and weak. Wen Zhuo curled up and collapsed sideways onto the straw mat.
There would be no thick quilt, brazier, or old physician to administer acupuncture in the prison. All he could do was grit his teeth and endure.
Wen Zhuo’s teeth chattered softly. He pressed his head firmly against the thick hemp cloth, his hands instinctively curling toward his chest.
Suddenly, his palm brushed against two hard objects.
He raised his eyes slightly and pulled them out in confusion. It was only when he held them up to the firelight that he remembered: they were the “warmers” Shen Zheng had specially made for him before leaving.
His heart stirred. Struggling to sit up, he reached beneath him and lifted the straw mat. Sure enough, a thick stack of them lay hidden underneath.
No wonder Liu Qiying had been lifting and searching through everything in here. So she had been hiding these for him.
Recalling Shen Zheng’s instructions, Wen Zhuo tore open one of the paper packets, loosened his sash, and carefully pressed the warmer onto his inner garment.
That small effort exhausted what little strength he had left, and soon he collapsed heavily back down.
He had not expected much. Yet after a short while, a faint warmth gradually seeped into his lower abdomen.
At first, it was no more than scattered sparks. Then it slowly gathered into a stream of heat, spreading along his meridians and driving away, inch by inch, the chill brought by the wet snow.
The aches throughout his body eased considerably as well. Almost unconsciously, Wen Zhuo arched his back and drew up his legs, holding the “warmer” tighter, as though he were curled up in Shen Zheng’s arms.
A trace of tender warmth rippled through his eyes. He murmured softly, “Your Highness, so iron… really can give off heat.”
