The snow had finally stopped, and the night deepened, yet there were far more people awake than usual.
The moment news spread that Wen Zhuo had been imprisoned, Jun Dingyuan immediately donned his armor, convened a military council, and secretly ordered the three major garrisons to block all official roads leading from the capital to Jinhai. Every merchant, traveler, or foot soldier passing through had to go through three layers of inspection before being allowed to proceed.
Maozi Street was the heart of the capital's bookshop district. Most of the storefronts there ran legitimate businesses on the surface, but secretly sold unofficial pamphlets filled with wild anecdotes. These pamphlets specialized in compiling court secrets and official scandals, spread by peddlers weaving through the streets after dark. Within three to five days, the stories would circulate through every alley and lane, a practice that had long proven impossible to stamp out.
Many absurd rumors were eventually taken as hard fact, and even the emperor was not spared from their harm.
Liu Qiying waited until the dead of night slipped quietly into the ghost market, and sold two copies of the secret anecdote transcripts for one tael of silver each. She had made her expectations clear early on: "This secret is not exclusive to any of you. Whoever carves and prints the fastest will make a fortune. Those who lag behind will only get the scraps."
Since her asking price was far lower than the market rate, all the shop assistants saw the profit to be made and were brimming with fighting spirit. They hurried back to their bookshops that very night, their lanterns burning bright as they rushed to carve and print the copies.
Duke Liu invited the commander of the Five Cities Military and Horse Division to his residence for a late-night meeting. After sharing a round of warm drinks, he made a request of his former subordinate: "Turn a blind eye to the unofficial pamphlets circulating around the capital recently. No need to investigate them closely."
His subordinate nodded and agreed.
Inside the Wen Manor, Jiang Mannü fished out the pre-prepared scroll of paper hidden under Wen Zhuo's pillow, carefully tucked it into a messenger tube, and sent out the first reply letter.
This reply had been written by Wen Zhuo after reading Shen Zheng's incoming letter, and it bore no trace of suspicion at all.
The Ministry of Justice's offices were lit up all through the night. Luo Mingpu gathered his elite bailiffs, who charged out like ravenous wolves toward every music and performance workshop in the capital. Every entertainer who had once crossed paths with Wen Zhuo was rounded up and taken into custody.
He could not help but wonder why Xie Langyang was so certain none of these women had ever shared an intimate moment with Wen Zhuo. After all, there were plenty of people in the world who were attracted to both men and women.
Xie Langyang rode back to his residence in a sedan chair, his mind wandering, his body as lifeless as dried wood the entire journey. When the sedan curtain lifted and he stepped over the threshold, Gong Yuwen flew into his embrace like a swallow returning to its nest, her eyes soft and full of pity. "Xie Lang, I know how much pain you are in. You worked so hard in the court hall today."
Xie Langyang looked down at her, feeling the warm body pressed against his chest, and finally realized how bone-chilling the day had been—his hands had long since gone numb from the cold.
He lifted his arms and held her tight, as if clinging to a lifeline, and the barren wasteland in his heart finally found a sliver of solace.
He buried his face in Gong Yuwen's hair, and hot tears finally spilled over, his voice hoarse as he whispered, "I had no choice..."
The words were for Gong Yuwen, but also for himself, a futile attempt to ease the heavy weight of guilt pressing down on him.
Gong Yuwen rolled her eyes inwardly, but her expression only grew softer and more tender. "It is all my fault. If I had not gone to the Wen Manor that day to argue, you would never have been caught between two sides and suffered so much."
Xie Langyang sobbed in deep grief, releasing all the pent-up emotions he had held inside. When his tears finally ran dry, he lifted his face, streaked with tear tracks and thoroughly disheveled, his eyes dazed but holding a flicker of unyielding resolve. "I wronged him once, but now, I no longer owe him anything."
At the same time, Gong Jinjin took a great risk to bribe an imperial eunuch from the Directorate of Ceremonial once more, and slipped a message to Shen Chen in the back storage room.
Shen Chen had been imprisoned there for a month, tortured by Shen Ting until he had wasted away to skin and bones. At first glance, his cheekbones jutted out sharply, his eye sockets sunken deep, and he looked no different from a sickly, drooping dove.
He had been clinging to life all this time only by his will to fight for the imperial throne. When he heard the news Gong Jinjin brought, his eyes burst with wild joy, and the dimples on his face lit up with renewed spirit. "Excellent! Without Wen Zhuo, Shen Zheng is like an army that has lost its arms. Hurry and send someone to Jinhai to deliver this 'great gift' to him!"
Gong Jinjin lowered her voice. "Minister Xie asked me to tell Your Highness that Wen Zhuo probably anticipated Xie Langyang would produce the 'Fu of the Late Mountain'. That is why no one spoke up to defend him in the imperial hall. It stands to reason that he would have made arrangements in Jinhai long ago. Our plan may not go as we hope."
Shen Chen knitted his brows and sank into thought. "You mean to say Wen Zhuo already told Shen Zheng that no matter what happened, he must never return to the capital for his sake?"
Gong Jinjin nodded, then realized Shen Chen could not see her and quickly added, "Yes. Minister Xie also said that even if Wen Zhuo never gave him such instructions, Shen Zheng still might not come back. He knows full well which matters more—the future imperial throne, or a single strategist. He would never be foolish enough to plunge himself into this whirlwind just for Wen Zhuo."
Shen Chen slid down the wall until he was seated on the ground, remaining silent for a long time before he had to admit, "That was a oversight on my part."
In his past life, he had valued Wen Zhuo more than anything. He had used bitter tricks to win Wen Zhuo's sympathy, and even asked his own mother to personally embroider a sleeve pouch as a gift. Before he ascended the throne, there was no one he would abandon before Wen Zhuo.
But Shen Zheng was different. He and Wen Zhuo had formed an alliance out of a shared desire for revenge. Their goals aligned, but their bond was never that deep.
Shen Zheng had the Yongning Marquis Estate backing him, so his starting point had always been far higher than Shen Chen's. Wen Zhuo was never going to hold that level of importance in his heart.
After a long moment of thought, a ruthless glint flashed across Shen Chen's eyes. "Wen Zhuo is cunning, it is no surprise he thought of that. But as long as we can drive him out of the capital, the 'Fu of the Late Mountain' will have served its purpose. Send the letter to Jinhai anyway. I want to see how Shen Zheng reacts."
He paused for a moment, then added, "Also, have people spread heavily exaggerated stories about why Wen Zhuo was imprisoned throughout the capital. Ruin his reputation, and let the public's opinions put pressure on His Majesty the Emperor."
This trick of using public sentiment to pressure those in power was a tactic he had learned from Wen Zhuo. Back then, Wen Zhuo had used that very method to force dozens of talented men from the Eight Lines to their deaths, leaving the Crown Prince and the Wise Prince badly weakened, and costing Xie Langyang his uncle and his nephews.
"I understand, my lord," Gong Jinjin said. She crouched low and slipped away quickly, making sure no one saw her.
As dawn broke, a thin sliver of pale light seeped through the gaps in the prison window, falling on the charred stone wall.
Wen Zhuo was in a drowsy haze when he caught sight of flickering firelight in front of him. He was always a light sleeper, so he woke immediately, his eyes still heavy with the fog of sleep.
With Xue Chongnian's protection, the prison guards did not dare treat him poorly. They bowed respectfully and said, "Lord Wen, it is time for you to appear in court."
Wen Zhuo's eyelashes fluttered. He slowly pushed himself up from the straw mat, one of his shoulders having gone numb from the hard surface pressing against it.
No matter how well a prison cell treats you, it can never compare to the soft bed back home. The topknot he had tied earlier had come loose at some point, and his dark hair spilled down like a waterfall, curling over his shoulders. It set off his pale face, making him look even more ethereal and handsome.
"I know," he replied, his voice thick with sleepiness.
The guard stole a glance at Wen Zhuo, and could not help but marvel to himself. He had escorted countless high-profile prisoners before, but he had never seen anyone who looked this down on their luck, yet still possessed such a breathtaking, otherworldly beauty. The faint movement of his eyes seemed to ripple with light, brightening even the dim dark room a little.
It was no wonder he had gotten tangled up in such a mess. With a face like that, even ordinary men would be spellbound, their thoughts drifting off to him.
"This is warm water, and some hot congee. Lord Xue instructed us to prepare it for you. Eat something, so you are well enough to give your account in court," the guard said, holding out a food tray.
"Thank you," Wen Zhuo took the wooden bowl, rinsed his mouth with the warm water, but did not touch the congee. He had never looked forward to the joint trial by the three judicial offices, and right now he had no appetite at all.
The two hand warmers tucked in his robes had long gone cold. He waited until the guard turned his back, then quickly slipped them under the straw mat.
The moment he stepped into the court of the Court of Judicial Review, Wen Zhuo’s eyes fell on the four characters "Uphold Justice and Promote Education" hanging high above the hall. Xue Chongnian, the chief judge, sat upright on the central red sandalwood magistrate’s seat. To his left was Luo Mingpu, and to his right was He Mingzhen, the Censor from the Metropolitan Procuratorate.
In the middle of the hall stood a dark, glossy desk, on which were placed a heavy, dark wooden gavel and three bamboo slip holders of different colors. On either side in front of the desk stood a warning board, one carved with "Silence" and the other with "Keep Distance."
Eight bailiffs stood in two lines on both sides, their water-and-fire staffs planted firmly on the ground, lending the entire hall a solemn, dignified air.
The Court of Judicial Review normally did not allow torture during interrogations, but today marked a joint trial by the Three Judicial Offices. Luo Mingpu had specially ordered the leg vises, finger squeezers, and interrogation rods to be carried out and lined up neatly on both sides outside the court, making his intention to intimidate and pressure the accused abundantly clear.
Facing a scene that stirred up old memories, Wen Zhuo had thought he could remain calm, but the deep-seated dread buried in his bones surged up all the same.
His consciousness and dignity had been shattered and torn apart again and again in the past, and the echoes of his own cries and screams seemed to linger still in the gaps between the roof tiles.
But he could not step back.
He curled his fingers so tight his palms ached, forcing himself to suppress the trembling that threatened to overtake him, and stepped forward to meet the gaze of everyone in the hall.
Seeing his unyielding, neither-servile-nor-arrogant demeanor, Luo Mingpu sneered coldly at once. "Wen Zhuo, you certainly carry a lot of weight. We have all been waiting for you for quite some time."
Wen Zhuo replied with a hint of mockery, "With your official position, Lord Luo, haven’t you long been accustomed to waiting for me in the past?"
Luo Mingpu was left speechless by the retort, his anger flaring up instantly. "Insolent! You dare act so brazenly in a court of law? It seems you will not shed tears until you see your own coffin. Guards—"
He was just about to slam the gavel down when Xue Chongnian swiftly reached out, snatched the gavel into his own hand, and said in a lukewarm tone, "Lord Luo, this is my Court of Judicial Review, not your Ministry of Justice. I am the chief judge today."
"You—" Luo Mingpu was so furious his beard and eyebrows bristled, yet he could do nothing about it.
Xue Chongnian pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone deliberately drawn out in a lazy, slow manner. "Director Wen, did you get a good rest in the prison yesterday?"
"It was passable," Wen Zhuo said.
Xue Chongnian smiled. "I see you are looking well today. Rest assured, those torture devices outside the hall are nothing but for show. His Majesty has granted you the grace of not being stripped of your clothes or wearing a cangue, and I will naturally abide by the imperial decree. I will never let you suffer the slightest injustice."
He had said those words deliberately for Luo Mingpu to hear. Since the emperor himself had shown leniency, his actions were far from overstepping his authority.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Wen Zhuo’s lips.
Luo Mingpu, seeing that the two of them had started chatting casually in the solemn court, snapped sharply, "Hold on! The court is a place of reverence. Why is the criminal Wen Zhuo not kneeling?"
Before Wen Zhuo could speak, Xue Chongnian cut in immediately. "Lord Luo may not be familiar with the rules of my Court of Judicial Review. A suspect who has not yet been convicted may remain standing instead of kneeling."
"Xue Chongnian!" Luo Mingpu slammed his palm on the desk and shot to his feet. "You are so blatantly taking his side. Are you deliberately trying to shield a traitor?"
He Mingzhen, seeing that the situation was on the verge of spinning out of control, finally spoke with a frown. "Lord Xue, as the chief judge, we co-judges also have the right to participate in the trial. This stalemate will do nothing to advance the case. Please begin the trial as soon as possible, so that we may report the outcome to His Majesty afterward."
Realizing he could no longer unilaterally shield Wen Zhuo now that He Mingzhen had spoken up, Xue Chongnian dropped his casual demeanor, tapped the gavel he had been holding gently, and tossed a white judicial slip onto the ground. "Bring in the witnesses."
Several female entertainers from the Courtesan Quarter were led in by the bailiffs. Their hair was disheveled, the hems of their dresses were covered in dust, and the moment they stepped into the hall, the overwhelming solemnity terrified them so much that they fell to their knees all at once before anyone could order them to.
Xue Chongnian frowned, his gaze flicking to Wen Zhuo with a hint of pity.
To question such private, intimate matters in full view of the public was a gross insult to a scholar’s dignity, but the die was cast, and he had no choice but to proceed.
Seeing him dawdling, Luo Mingpu scoffed coldly. "Lord Xue is too bashful to ask these questions, so let this rough fellow do it. All of you women, lift your heads!"
The entertainers trembled as they raised their heads, their faces full of terror, their frail bodies looking as if they might collapse under the pressure at any moment.
"When you received Wen Zhuo in the Courtesan Quarter," Luo Mingpu leaned forward, spittle flying as he cut straight to the point, "did you ever share the bed with him and engage in carnal relations?"
Wen Zhuo turned his face away, his long black hair falling to conceal a flash of humiliation in his eyes.
"No! I only played chess with Lord Wen all through the night!"
"Me too! I only accompanied Lord Wen in reciting poems and composing verses, and nothing else happened!"
"I played the pipa for Lord Wen. Sometimes when I grew drowsy, Lord Wen would let me rest on a side couch. He never once acted improperly toward me!"
"I am plain and unrefined, how could I be worthy of serving Lord Wen? He treated us with nothing but respect, and never the slightest hint of impropriety!"
One by one, the women recounted every detail of their nights with him in terrified, clear voices. The clerk at the side desk scribbled furiously to record their testimonies, went over each statement carefully, and then had them press their fingerprints to the documents.
Luo Mingpu looked utterly satisfied after hearing their words. He leaned over the table, his gaze sharp as a hawk’s as he fixed it on Wen Zhuo. "Wen Zhuo, what else can you say? What normal man who visits the Courtesan Quarter for pleasure could ever resist doing nothing but discussing poetry and art? Don’t tell me you are incapable of intimacy with women, or else I will call in a matron right this instant to examine you to confirm it!"
Wen Zhuo was silent for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Lord Luo, how do you know no man can resist? I am an upright official with a meager salary, which is only enough to buy wine and listen to music. Where would I get the extra money for those carnal services?"
Xue Chongnian smacked his thigh, feigning a look of sudden realization. "That is absolutely right!"
Luo Mingpu thought to himself, that is absolute nonsense!
He swept his sleeve across the desk, pointing directly at Wen Zhuo. "You visited the Courtesan Quarter again and again. The total sum of money you spent there would be more than enough to pay for a night of pleasure several times over. You are already twenty-five years old and still not married. If you did not dislike women and use them as a cover, how could you have no urges at all?"
Wen Zhuo’s expression did not change. "Appreciating poetry and listening to music are elegant pastimes. Why must they be tied to fleshly desires? I only admired their talents. Is that against the imperial law? Is Lord Luo planning to arrest every single man who ever spent a night in the Courtesan Quarter without seeking carnal pleasure, and falsely accuse them of liking men?"
Xue Chongnian nodded repeatedly. "What you said is perfectly true! If we condemn people solely on that basis, every scholar in the realm will live in fear for their safety!"
Luo Mingpu was so choked with anger his face turned bright red. He suddenly pointed at the "Fu of the Evening Mountains" laid out on the desk. "I have always known how sharp-tongued you are. This "Fu of the Evening Mountains" was written entirely in your own hand, completed in the 16th year of Shunyuan. It is ironclad evidence. What do you have to say for yourself now?"
Wen Zhuo simply closed his eyes, treating Luo Mingpu as nothing more than a gust of wind passing his ears. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
Luo Mingpu felt as if he had punched a thick layer of cotton, and the frustration nearly made him spit blood.
The joint trial that day ended in a hasty, inconclusive mess.
With Xue Chongnian shielding Wen Zhuo overtly and covertly, and Wen Zhuo putting up a completely unyielding, uncooperative front, Luo Mingpu racked his brains but could not pry a single useful word out of him. In the end, he had no choice but to have Wen Zhuo escorted back to the prison, and the trial was scheduled to resume on another day.
When he returned to the Ministry of Justice, he received even worse news. The messengers he had sent to carry word to Jinhai could not get through. The Three Elite Battalions had blocked off all the official roads, and even the small side paths were completely guarded and impassable.
Luo Mingpu slammed his official hat down hard on the desk. "What a pair they are, Wen Wanshan and Jun Dingyuan!"
Gong Zhiyuan said, "Lord Luo, please calm yourself."
"How can I calm down? That Wen Wanshan played dumb in the court and refused to admit anything, and Xue Chongnian took his side at every turn, refusing to let us use torture. At this rate, what truth will we ever dig out of this case?"
Just as he was roaring in fury, footsteps sounded from outside, and Xie Langyang walked in wearing casual civilian clothes.
Though he had been ordered to remain at home pending investigation with no guards watching over him, his worries would not let him rest, so he had himself carried in a sedan chair to the Ministry of Justice.
Hearing that things were not going smoothly on all fronts, Xie Langyang kept his composure, speaking slowly in a calm tone: "Wen Zhuo will certainly not wait around for death. Now that Xue Chongnian is meddling in this matter too, your trial is destined to be far from smooth sailing."
Gong Zhiyuan stroked his beard, a hint of grimness flashing across his eyes: "It's a pity that I'm not the one presiding over this trial. I wonder if there is any way to replace Xue Chongnian?"
At those words, Xie Langyang's head snapped up, his gaze locking straight onto Gong Zhiyuan, his eyes swirling with indescribably complicated emotions.
Gong Zhiyuan was taken aback by his stare, frowning as he asked, "What is it?"
Xie Langyang turned his gaze away stiffly, his fingers clutching the hem of his robe so tightly they knotted, his voice also growing tight: "I... it's nothing."
In his past life, Gong Zhiyuan was exactly the one who presided over Wen Zhuo's trial. He remembered it perfectly: he had stood right outside the courthouse, listening to the wails and screams that drifted out from within.
Gong Zhiyuan's methods were vicious and ruthless. He had forced Wen Zhuo to confess to a host of fabricated charges, closing out many long-unresolved unsolved cases of the Shunyuan Dynasty, before combining all those false charges to sentence Wen Zhuo to death by a thousand arrows piercing the heart.
Luo Mingpu suddenly had an idea: "What if I join forces with He Mingzhen to submit a memorial to the Emperor, stating openly that Xue Chongnian is showing favoritism to the suspect and obstructing the fair trial, and beg His Majesty to remove the current presiding official and appoint the Grand Tutor to take charge instead?"
Gong Zhiyuan looked faintly expectant: "Do you think that could work? The Emperor appointed Xue Chongnian to preside over this trial precisely because he intended to show leniency."
Xie Langyang took a deep breath, forcing himself to shake off the searing pain from his past life, and said softly: "The matter of replacing Xue Chongnian needs to be planned step by step. But the matter the Prince mentioned earlier about spreading news throughout the capital can be put into action right away. The Emperor hates such scandals the most. Once rumors are running rampant, he will press for a quick conclusion to the case, and then all those special privileges of 'no stripping of clothes, no cangue, no torture' that were granted will be revoked."
Luo Mingpu thought it over carefully: "That makes sense. Then I will hold my patience for a few more days."
A dusty carrier pigeon skimmed over the treetops, flying against the sea breeze, and landed softly on the perch in the bamboo hut.
Shen Zheng returned from the docks, his thick fur cloak crusted with frost. He reached up to undo the fastenings, tossed the garment behind him casually, and strode into the house with long, brisk steps.
His personal guard hurried after him, catching the flying cloak, and chuckled: "Your Highness has a bright look in your eyes today. What has got you so happy?"
Shen Zheng exhaled a cloud of white breath that carried the salty sweetness of the sea wind, not even turning his head as he headed straight for the pigeon perch: "Of course it's because I received a letter from my teacher."
The guard hung the thick cloak on the rail under the eave and teased: "Just a moment ago at the docks, Your Highness was yelling at people, and only Director Wen can make your mood shift like that in an instant."
"Too many words from you," Shen Zheng said hurriedly as he untied the letter tube from the pigeon's leg.
Freed from its restraints, the pigeon fluttered its wings and hopped over to the nearby feeding trough, lowering its head to peck at the rice grains, cooing softly.
Shen Zheng twisted the seal open, carefully pulling out the tightly rolled slip of paper, and held it up to the sunlight to unfurl it.
The small characters on the page were elegant, clear, and flowing like running water, brimming with tender affection:
"I received your letter and know that the sea wind cuts to the bone. You must take good care of yourself. Light snow has fallen in the capital, drifting gently in clusters and flurries. I cannot help but recall that trip to Mianzhou, when I once lay asleep on Your Highness's lap. The memory fills my heart with warmth, and longing wraps around me so tightly I cannot contain it. I only wish to rest my head on your lap again, first to admire the constellations in the sky, and then to indulge the tender stirrings deep in my chest."
These past days, Shen Zheng had been out in the wind and sun, his face gaining a slightly rough edge, and he had thrown himself into work so fully that thin calluses had formed on his hands, making every day grueling and exhausting.
But now, holding this sheet of letter paper in his hands, he felt all his weariness and distress melt away, leaving nothing but a warm, glowing feeling in his chest.
He read every single word over three times, and suddenly he could not resist pressing the letter to his face, taking a deep breath as if he could smell the soft hair at Wen Zhuo's temple.
A smile curled at the corner of Shen Zheng's lips as he murmured to himself: "Your words are getting more and more tender, my sweet-talking little cat."
