All unnecessary personnel were driven out of the inner court of Suhe Ward. The vermilion gates slammed shut, leaving only Shen Zheng, Wen Zhuo, and Lou Changsui, whose face had gone ashen, in the vast open courtyard.
The military officer cupped his fists toward the two men. “Fifth Prince, Director Wen, I bear His Majesty’s decree and cannot perform the full ceremony.”
Shen Zheng inclined his head. “There is no need for formalities, Commander.”
The commander nodded, then pulled an imperial edict wrapped in bright yellow silk from his pack. He held his head high, unfurled it, and proclaimed in a ringing voice, “Lou Changsui, receive the edict!”
Just hearing those words made Lou Changsui’s calves tremble. “I… I receive the edict!”
The commander read aloud, “Liu Kangren is ambitious and treasonous, brazenly embezzling government grain and causing relief efforts to fail, thereby stirring widespread resentment among the people. The Mianzhou government is hereby ordered to bind him and take him immediately to the execution ground, where he is to be beheaded and his body displayed as a warning to others. By imperial command!”
The stone had finally dropped, striking Lou Changsui until his head spun and his vision blurred.
Although he had anticipated this outcome, hearing the contents of the imperial edict with his own ears still sent his blood surging.
The emperor had never intended to pardon Liu Kangren. He had been played from beginning to end!
But before he could recover, Wen Zhuo widened his eyes in feigned surprise. “His Majesty ordered an immediate execution?”
The commander nodded. “That is correct.”
Wen Zhuo hurriedly said, “Commander, could you grant us a brief reprieve? The Directorate has only just arrived in Mianzhou, and there are still many questions we need to ask Liu Kangren.”
The commander’s brows drew together slightly, but he was a reasonable man. “Director, make it quick. Could this matter be connected to the unusual activity you mentioned earlier?”
“It is indeed.” Wen Zhuo turned to Lou Changsui and ordered, “Lord Lou, take me to see Liu Kangren at once.”
Lou Changsui raised his fish-like eyes, bloodshot from end to end, and stared fixedly at Wen Zhuo. His gaze was filled with venom and unwillingness.
It’s all because of you! You’re still pretending!
Wen Zhuo met his eyes, the faintest smile curving his lips. In the next instant, however, his expression hardened, and he raised his voice. “Lord Lou!”
The commander looked down at Lou Changsui, who still had not moved, and demanded in a deep voice, “Lord Lou, why have you yet to receive the edict and carry out your orders?”
Cold sweat poured down Lou Changsui’s face. He lowered his head, steeled himself, and threw himself flat on the ground, wailing, “Your Majesty! I deserve death a thousand times over! That traitor died in prison of his own accord a day ago. All that remains is his corpse!”
He was gambling that Wen Zhuo would not dare produce the real Liu Kangren.
As long as he could get past the matter of Liu Kangren, he had plenty of ways to cover up everything else. Declaring Mianzhou’s disaster level at fifty percent had been entirely within regulations. The land had not yet been measured, and the people concealing their household numbers was a common problem. Which prefecture in all of Great Qian did not simply use the old household registers to make up an approximate figure?
“Liu Kangren is dead?!” The commander stared at him in astonishment.
The imperial edict had ordered an execution, but if Liu Kangren had died beforehand, the nature of the matter was completely different.
Yet the commander had only been entrusted with delivering the edict; he had no authority to investigate. At most, he could report the matter to the imperial court, after which His Majesty would appoint another official to investigate whether Lou Changsui had been derelict in his duty.
That time would be exactly what Lou Changsui needed.
Mianzhou was a long distance from the capital, and the journey was fraught with difficulties. By the time the corpse reached the Duke’s residence, “Liu Kangren” would likely have decomposed beyond recognition. No traces would remain to identify it.
“Exactly! It was all due to my negligence!” Lou Changsui beat his chest and stamped his feet, tears and snot streaming down his face as he recited the story he had prepared. “I pitied the suffering of the displaced commoners and personally went to the prison several days ago to rebuke him. I told him that the imperial edict would soon arrive, and that his life or death lay entirely in His Majesty’s hands. I imagine my words must have shaken him. Realizing that he had failed to live up to His Majesty’s gracious favor, he struck his head against the wall that very night. His flesh was battered and bloody, and he ultimately died from blood loss! I deserve death a thousand times over! I failed to keep the prison guards under proper control. They were all sleeping soundly that night, and not a single one of them noticed what had happened!”
Shen Zheng could not help glancing at Wen Zhuo. Wen Zhuo had knitted his brows in thought, appearing to be genuinely considering the matter of Liu Kangren’s supposed suicide.
Shen Zheng secretly chuckled. Excellent acting.
Still, Lou Changsui’s ploy was exactly as Wen Zhuo had predicted beforehand—not a shred of originality.
The commander said, “Since he is dead, take me to inspect the corpse.”
“Naturally, naturally!” Lou Changsui accepted the imperial edict, then slapped his knees and struggled to rise, getting only one leg beneath him.
Shen Zheng suddenly spoke in an unhurried tone. “There is no need to worry, Commander. I once heard my maternal grandfather say that when Liu Kangren fought Fan Wan, his left knee was slashed, leaving behind a crescent-shaped scar. We will know the truth at once if we take a look when we examine the body.”
Lou Changsui’s legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud.
How could there be a scar as well?!
The commander’s eyes lit up. “That is perfect. Thank you, Your Highness. Hmm? Lord Lou, why have you not gotten up yet?”
While pretending to wipe away his sweat, Lou Changsui cast a furtive sidelong glance at Shen Zheng, uncertainty flickering across his face.
He could not fall into the same pit twice!
Was this young upstart trying to bluff him?
If Liu Kangren had no scar and Lou Changsui added one, he would expose himself. But if Liu Kangren really did have a scar and Lou Changsui failed to add it, he would be finished all the same.
However, Lou Changsui had spent decades navigating officialdom. How could he be stumped by some young upstart?
His eyes shifted as an idea came to him. At last, he braced himself and climbed to his feet. After wiping the cold sweat from his face, he pasted on a smile.
“Liu Kangren’s body is temporarily being kept at the mortuary. That place is filthy and vile, and I fear it might offend Your Highness and Director Wen. Why don’t Your Highness, Director Wen, and the commander return to the prefectural office to rest? I will have my men carry the corpse over at once.”
The commander had intended to go immediately to the mortuary to examine the body, so his brows furrowed at this.
Shen Zheng, however, nodded. “Lord Lou is right. Director Wen, let us wait for him at the prefectural office.”
Wen Zhuo glanced sideways at him. Shen Zheng returned his gaze with a smile.
Seeing how readily Shen Zheng had agreed, Lou Changsui sneered inwardly.
As expected, there was a trap!
But did they truly think he had no way to deal with it?
Once Shen Zheng and Wen Zhuo reached the prefectural office, they finally got to drink their first cup of good tea in days.
Shen Zheng was not anxious in the slightest. He sipped his tea and even smiled as he instructed Lou Changsui, “Bring out some of Mianzhou’s local sweets. I would like to sample the flavors of the region.”
Wen Zhuo’s lashes suddenly lifted, his eyes gleaming brightly. Immediately afterward, he lowered them again as though nothing had happened, his expression remaining as calm as ever.
Before long, a servant brought in a plate of stone-lion sweet cakes along with three bowls of jiaqingzi soup.
Wen Zhuo’s gaze involuntarily followed the sweet cakes as they were carried over, finally fixing firmly upon the table. His fingertips curled ever so slightly.
Shen Zheng hastily urged him, “Director Wen, the journey must have been tiring. Have something to fill your stomach.”
Wen Zhuo lifted his teacup and took a sip. “Thank you, Your Highness. I am quite all right.”
Shen Zheng tried again. “These are sweets from your hometown, after all. I am sure they will suit your taste. Have at least a little.”
Wen Zhuo’s Adam’s apple bobbed lightly. “…The sweet cakes are indeed quite good.”
Suppressing his laughter, Shen Zheng picked up a golden-yellow cake and held it out to him. “Lord Lou has already sent them over. Would it not be a waste not to eat one? The people of Mianzhou can barely get a mouthful of rice porridge these days. We cannot afford to waste food.”
“Then I shall accept your kindness.” Wen Zhuo took the sweet cake. He raised his sleeve to cover his face, his expression still perfectly composed, but his fingers flew as he slipped the cake into his mouth, even his chewing becoming slightly hurried.
Beside them, the commander held his bowl and noisily gulped down his jiaqingzi soup. He could not help remarking, “Director Wen truly has the bearing of a refined scholar. Even when eating, he is so graceful and cultured. Nothing like me—I’m as rough as they come.”
But after setting down his empty bowl, he reached out, hoping to pick up a sweet cake of his own, only to find that the plate was already completely empty. Not even the crumbs remained.
The commander: “……”
After roughly the time it took to burn a single incense stick, the steward came walking at the front, pinching his nose, while four servants followed behind, each carrying one corner of a bier. A straw mat covered the body, barely preserving its dignity.
Fortunately, the man had only been dead for a day, and no strong smell of decay had yet emerged.
The military commandant immediately rose and hurried over. He yanked away the straw mat, but the instant his gaze fell upon the corpse’s face, he could not help drawing in a sharp breath.
The man’s features had been smashed beyond recognition. His nose was crushed, his cheekbones were shattered, and his lips were turned inside out. Even after the blood had been wiped away, there was no way to tell who he was.
The commandant’s expression turned cold. He glanced at Lou Changsui, who stood to one side with his eyes lowered, looking as though none of this had anything to do with him. Then he reached down and pulled up the corpse’s left trouser leg.
The skin at the left knee had been scraped away, exposing the lifeless flesh beneath. Any old scar had long since become impossible to make out.
The commandant’s fingers clenched abruptly, and his gaze darkened.
Shen Zheng had anticipated this. With a light laugh, he said, “Lou Changsui, how is it that when I said Liu Kangren had a scar on his left knee, his left knee just happened to be ruined?”
Lou Changsui knew this question was coming. He replied unhurriedly, “Your Highness, allow me to explain. Liu Kangren resisted arrest earlier and endured several rounds of severe interrogation. He was forced to kneel for long periods and also got into a scuffle with other prisoners. His knee was injured when they kicked and trampled one another. If Your Highness does not believe me, just look at his right knee.”
The commandant hastily pulled up the other trouser leg. Sure enough, the right knee also bore signs of having been scraped raw.
Lou Changsui put on an utterly shameless expression, allowing them to inspect the corpse as they pleased.
Wen Zhuo glanced at the two wounds and said casually, “Lou Changsui, when a person is injured while alive, the blood flows and seeps deep into the flesh. After death, however, the blood merely remains on the surface, while the tissue beneath the skin turns pale and bloodless. Do you really think I cannot find a coroner to examine it?”
Lou Changsui froze. He hurried over to the corpse and pretended to inspect it, arranging an expression of shock on his face. “This… This isn’t a wound caused by his punishment!”
As he performed, he laughed inwardly. What a coincidence—this move had also been within his expectations.
Just as expected, one of the servants carrying the corpse suddenly fell backward with a thump and sat on the ground, trembling as he said, “This humble servant deserves death! While we were carrying the body just now, I tripped over a rock and accidentally dropped Liu Kangren onto the ground. That’s how these later injuries happened!”
The steward also dropped to his knees. “This servant can testify. That fool damaged the body through his carelessness. Not just his knees—Liu Kangren has several other abrasions on his body as well. They were all caused by the fall!”
The clue they had just found was severed in an instant. Though the commandant knew there was something suspicious going on, he had no evidence.
He could not rashly accuse an imperial official, so he could only suppress his anger for the time being and wait until they returned to the capital before settling the matter.
Wen Zhuo’s gaze swept over Lou Changsui’s broad, fleshy face, where a trace of smugness was concealed.
“Lord Lou certainly handles matters with ‘meticulous care.’ First, the jailer was negligent, allowing Liu Kangren to die by suicide. Then your servants managed to drop the corpse while carrying it and leave it covered in wounds.”
“It was an accident, truly an accident! This subordinate failed to supervise properly. I am deeply ashamed!” Lou Changsui repeatedly cupped his hands and bowed.
“Oh, there’s no need to be ashamed.” Shen Zheng walked over with his hands behind his back and stood beside the corpse. Looking down at it, he drawled, “Who said Liu Kangren had only one scar?”
The words struck Lou Changsui’s heart like a heavy hammer. His head began to buzz, and he instantly fell into a daze.
He stared at Shen Zheng in disbelief, as though he needed a long while to understand what those words meant.
Not just one scar?!
Shen Zheng’s expression was solemn. “Ten years ago, during the Battle of the Rang River, Fan Wan feigned defeat. Liu Kangren pursued him in the belief that victory was at hand, but as he crossed the river, he fell into an ambush and was pierced through the shoulder by an arrow. He survived by a hair’s breadth. Every soldier who took part in the campaigns along the southern frontier knows this.
“At the time, Liu Kangren’s life hung in the balance. Yet the battle situation was urgent, and the army could not go even a single day without its commander, so an urgent report was immediately delivered to His Majesty. Do you know why Great Qian lost that battle? Because there was a traitor in the army who leaked the news of Liu Kangren’s unconsciousness to Fan Wan. Fan Wan attacked our camp that very night, and tens of thousands of Great Qian’s soldiers were killed or wounded in a single night!
“The matter was too humiliating, so the court later tacitly covered it up. Naturally, the truth never reached a place like Mianzhou.”
Ten years had passed. Shen Zheng himself had not known about it until Liu Kangren told him beforehand.
The commandant suddenly tore open the corpse’s collar, exposing both shoulders. The skin was perfectly intact, without the slightest trace of an old arrow wound.
The commandant spun around, eyes blazing with fury. “Lou Changsui! You are audacious beyond belief! You actually switched the corpse and concealed Liu Kangren!”
Lou Changsui finally understood that he had reached a dead end. In his panic, he pointed at Wen Zhuo and screamed hysterically, “It was him! He was the one who abducted Liu Kangren!”
Wen Zhuo’s eyes remained utterly calm. He feigned surprise. “Lou Changsui, I’m afraid I don’t understand you. Are you saying I sent men to break into the prison and that you caught them in the act? If so, why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“I—”
“The jailers guarding the prison must have fought a hard battle against the assassins I supposedly sent. How many were killed or wounded?”
“This—”
“And the other prisoners must have witnessed the whole thing. Since you are so certain, let us go to the prison and question them one by one.”
Lou Changsui trembled with rage and roared, “Director Wen, you certainly have a silver tongue! Liu Kangren was clearly abducted by you on Yangshizi Street! You even sent one of your guards to deceive me!”
Wen Zhuo gave a cold laugh and advanced step by step, staring at Lou Changsui’s face as it teetered on the brink of collapse. “That’s strange. Liu Kangren was clearly locked up in the prison, so how could he have appeared on Yangshizi Street? And precisely how did the guard I sent deceive you? Did you obediently agree to release Liu Kangren when he asked you to?”
Blood rushed to Lou Changsui’s head, nearly making him dizzy. His body jerked uncontrollably from excessive fury. “You… You!”
He could not admit the truth. He was afraid that if Liu Kangren remained alive, he would reveal the truth about the empty grain stores in Mianzhou. Wen Zhuo had calculated everything in advance, and now Lou Changsui was utterly unable to defend himself.
Wen Zhuo’s expression suddenly turned icy. He barked, “Lou Changsui! Even now, you still dare to twist the truth and falsely accuse me? Guards, take him to the prison and await a thorough interrogation!”
The constables had already been intimidated by Wen Zhuo. At that moment, they did not dare even breathe too loudly. They immediately lowered their heads and rushed into the prefectural office, where they pinned Lou Changsui to the ground with a flurry of hands.
Lou Changsui’s bulky body struggled futilely against the floor. The veins in his neck bulged as he cursed loudly, “Wen Zhuo! You’ll suffer divine retribution! You won’t die a good death!”
Though it was nothing more than an empty curse uttered in frustration, Shen Zheng’s heart inexplicably sank when he heard it. History was like a damp, cold stone, occasionally pressing painfully against his chest.
He glanced sideways at Wen Zhuo, only to see that Wen Zhuo’s expression remained indifferent, without even the slightest trace of anger in his eyes. It was as though he had never believed in gods or spirits, nor in the possibility that he himself would meet an untimely end.
“Enough of the noise.” Wen Zhuo lifted his eyes. “As for these servants who assisted Lou Changsui in deceiving their superiors and fabricating evidence, place them in separate cells. I intend to interrogate them one by one. If anyone’s statement contains even a single discrepancy, execute him on the spot without mercy.”
“Spare us, my lord! Director Wen, please spare us!” Several servants were so terrified that their souls nearly left their bodies. They kowtowed repeatedly. “Lou Changsui forced us to do it! We didn’t dare disobey!”
Wen Zhuo expressionlessly waved a hand, and the servants were dragged away amid their ghostly wails.
That same day, all of Lou Changsui’s relatives were placed under guard. The yamen was surrounded by layers of sentries, inside and out—not even a fly could have escaped.
For the time being, Wen Zhuo and Shen Zheng moved into the inner quarters of the yamen. Wen Zhuo ate a simple meal of thin porridge and a few side dishes, then had hot water prepared to wash away his fatigue. By the time he emerged in nothing but his inner robe, Shen Zheng was already waiting with a soft cloth.
Wen Zhuo did not refuse. He went straight over, rested his head on Shen Zheng’s lap, and let Shen Zheng dry his hair.
For the past ten days, from plotting and scheming to finally bringing everything to a close, Wen Zhuo’s nerves had remained taut the entire time. Now that he finally had a soft bed beneath him, it was not long before he sank into a deep sleep.
Shen Zheng carefully dried every strand of moisture. Looking down at Wen Zhuo’s sleeping face, he saw, beneath the rosy glow of the setting sun, those long, slightly curled lashes lowered over his eyes. He looked like a little cat with its guard down—so docile that Shen Zheng could not bear to disturb him.
He loved him down to his very bones. Shen Zheng leaned over and, through a thin layer of air, pressed a feather-light kiss beside Wen Zhuo’s delicate cheek.
By the time darkness had fully fallen, Wen Zhuo woke and sat up. He wiped his face with a damp cloth, then turned to see Shen Zheng—the pillow who had served him all afternoon—struggling to prop himself up.
Wen Zhuo took the cloth to wash it again, wrung it until it was half-dry, and handed it over. “Your Highness, wipe your face as well.”
Shen Zheng kept his eyes closed, bracing himself against the bed with both arms. Fatigue still lingered between his brows, giving him a languid, carefree air. “Wan-shan, help me.”
Wen Zhuo’s eyelid twitched faintly.
So this was… what people called acting spoiled?
He pressed the soft cloth to Shen Zheng’s face and was just about to wipe it when Shen Zheng suddenly freed one hand and tugged him by the wrist.
Wen Zhuo had not put up much resistance to begin with. He followed the pull, and his body tipped forward until he was sprawled over Shen Zheng. His chin naturally came to rest on Shen Zheng’s shoulder, while his nostrils filled with the faint scent of soapberry soap lingering on him.
“Your Highness,” Wen Zhuo murmured.
“I’m tired. Help wake me up.”
With one hand supporting the weight of them both, Shen Zheng slipped his other arm around Wen Zhuo’s waist, his palm wandering idly over Wen Zhuo’s back.
Wen Zhuo tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling on the clean lines of Shen Zheng’s throat and neck. On a sudden impulse, he opened his mouth and gave the warm skin a light bite.
A tingling sensation instantly spread from the spot warmed by his breath. Shen Zheng’s entire body stiffened, and he abruptly opened his eyes.
“Are you awake now, Your Highness?” Wen Zhuo straightened, seemingly unconcerned as he glanced at the place he had bitten. The mark was faint. “If you’re awake, come with me to interrogate Lou Changsui.”
“Honestly, you’re such a workaholic,” Shen Zheng sighed helplessly.
He had never imagined that one day he would use that word to describe someone.
Wen Zhuo did not understand. He wiped Shen Zheng’s face briskly several times with the soft cloth and asked, “What is a workaholic?”
“It describes someone who thinks about work at times like this and refuses to stop for even a moment. A fine quality, really.” Shen Zheng had finally shaken off his drowsiness and roused himself.
“That word is inappropriate. How can an ordinary person casually be called a king?” Wen Zhuo frowned in disapproval. He straightened the creases in his robes and immediately headed outside.
“Tsk, that’s not what it means. People used to call me that too.” Shen Zheng hurried to catch up with him.
Wen Zhuo suddenly stopped. Shen Zheng nearly walked into him and instinctively halted, momentarily stunned.
Wen Zhuo turned around. His expression had abruptly grown solemn, and he looked at Shen Zheng intently. “Your Highness cannot be called a king either. I want you to become emperor.”
Shen Zheng chuckled. He raised a hand to touch the spot on his neck where the tingling sensation still lingered, his tone softening. “Very well. I won’t be called a king. Otherwise, Teacher, you’ll have to bite harder.”
The tips of Wen Zhuo’s ears flushed faintly, and his pace suddenly quickened.
The main hall of the yamen was brightly lit with candles. By the time Lou Changsui was brought out of the prison by the constables, he had already grown visibly haggard.
He knelt on the ground, his topknot disheveled and his robes stained with dust, yet he still held his back rigidly straight. His bulging, fish-like eyes were wide open, and he resembled a toad driven into a corner, ready to leap up and fight back at any moment.
But Wen Zhuo did not speak with the cutting sharpness he had shown during the day, each word striking straight to the heart and forcing Lou Changsui into hysterics.
Instead, Wen Zhuo did something entirely unexpected. He moved a chair over and simply sat there, quietly studying Lou Changsui.
There was no anger in his gaze, nor any contempt. Rather, it was as though he were examining an old object covered in dust, trying to find traces of what it had once been in that fat, greasy face.
“Lou Changsui, you came from a poor scholarly family.” After a long while, Wen Zhuo finally spoke. “In the twelfth year of Shunyuan, you were appointed magistrate of Qiuliang County. At the time, the local people practiced the barbaric custom of burning women alive to be buried with their deceased husbands. Under pressure from the entrenched clans, you nevertheless abolished the custom by force of will. Though you offended many people, you also saved countless lives.”
“Later, you were transferred to Bozhou. That year, during the flood season, the dikes along the Liang River burst. You were the first to carry a sandbag into the raging current. When the people saw an official leading from the front, they followed your example. In less than fifteen minutes, the breach was sealed, saving the farmland of three counties along the river.”
Wen Zhuo’s voice was calm, without the slightest ripple. His gaze remained fixed on Lou Changsui’s face as he continued, “I once chatted with you over tea. You said that you yearned for fame and rank, but not for your own selfish interests. You carried lofty ambitions in your heart. You wanted to ‘assist the ruler in surpassing Yao and Shun, and once more bring purity to the customs of the realm.’ You wanted to become a worthy minister like Fan Zhongyan.”
Lou Changsui’s entire body trembled. The hostility boiling within him vanished in an instant. He looked up at Wen Zhuo in a daze, as though listening to a story from a distant past—a story that seemed not to belong to him at all.
The commandant’s eyes widened in astonishment. Shen Zheng was no less shocked.
The official histories of Qian would never record the life of such an insignificant official, so Shen Zheng found it difficult to imagine that a man like this had once existed, only to end up on a path so utterly opposed to his beginnings.
After a long silence, a cold laugh forced its way from Lou Changsui’s throat. “Director Wen, people change.”
“I know.” Wen Zhuo remained calm.
Lou Changsui seemed to have heard the greatest joke in the world. He suddenly raised his voice, and all the grievance and resentment he had been suppressing burst forth at once. “You are heaven’s favored son! After only three years in the provinces, you were transferred back to the capital. In four years in the capital, you rose through four ranks. Your career has flourished, and you have been the center of attention! What do you know of being unable to take a single step forward? Of being powerless to act? Of being trapped beneath the weight of the past?”
Wen Zhuo slowly rose and walked over to him. Looking down from above, he said, sorrow in his eyes and a trace of self-mockery hidden beneath it, “No one understands better than I do how a person changes, and how they take one step after another toward becoming utterly corrupt.”
Perhaps Wen Zhuo’s eyes were too clear. In that moment, Lou Changsui actually felt that he truly understood him—understood every step of his irreversible descent.
Suddenly, a candle sputtered with a sharp crack. Sparks flew, briefly disrupting the strained rhythm of their breathing.
Shen Zheng turned his head toward Wen Zhuo, and something stirred abruptly in his heart.
A certain suspicion flashed through his mind, so quickly that it was almost like an illusion.
“Lou Changsui, if you had continued working under me, if you had never been sent to Mianzhou and never been coerced by Prince Xian, would things have turned out differently?” Wen Zhuo’s voice was soft, yet it pierced straight through Lou Changsui’s tightly sealed defenses.
Lou Changsui opened his mouth, as though he wanted to say something. In the end, however, he merely lowered his head in dejection.
He did not know whether he could remain as “foolish” as he had been in his youth, whether he could continue to withstand the myriad temptations of officialdom, or whether he could always cling to the righteous path as he climbed upward, no matter how slowly.
But such suppositions were meaningless.
After all, the man he had encountered truly was Prince Xian.
The interrogation lasted a full three shichen. Outside the window, the night gradually faded, and wisps of cold mist rose through the lanes between the houses.
In the end, Lou Changsui relented.
He confessed everything: how Prince Xian had extorted him under the guise of demanding tribute; how, finding himself helpless, he had colluded with the incense merchants, converted grain fields into incense fields, and exploited the common people; how this had left the prefectural granary empty and rendered them unable to provide disaster relief; and how he had ultimately framed Liu Kangren.
He also handed over the account books recording the tribute that Mianzhou had delivered to the prefectural granary commissioner over the years, along with the letter Bu Zhangyi had “kindly” sent him as a warning.
By the time Lou Changsui uttered his final word, the horizon had already taken on the pale color of a fish’s belly. The first light of dawn suddenly poured across this ravaged land.
