Song Shihuan walked out of the county office with a guilty expression, only to break into uncontrollable laughter the moment she turned away.
"Ma Liang used to be the local tyrant of Yong'an County. Now that we're here, it's time he learns what it feels like to be suffocated under pressure."
Song Yu gave Song Shihuan a thumbs-up, though his smile seemed somewhat forced.
"Father, what's wrong?"
Song Shihuan leaned closer, noticing the dark circles under Song Yu's eyes.
"Ah-Huan, I’ve been feeling uneasy these past few days. Do you really think I can pass the county exam?" Despite constantly boasting about becoming the top scholar, as the exam drew near, Song Yu began doubting himself.
After all, since childhood, he had always ranked last in every test.
Song Shihuan glanced at the worn, yellow-edged books and whispered conspiratorially, "Father, Magistrate Shen once told me in secret that at your current level, passing the scholar exam is no trouble at all. With another year of practice, even becoming a provincial graduate would be within reach."
"Really? Shen Mingwen actually said that about me?"
A spark of hope reignited in Song Yu's eyes.
"Absolutely true," Song Shihuan replied without batting an eyelid.
Meanwhile, far away in the capital, Shen Mingwen sneezed several times in succession.
"Wonderful! I knew that old man Shen was just afraid I’d grow complacent, so he wouldn’t tell me the truth." Song Yu’s anxiety vanished completely, his expression brightening.
"Still... if Father wants to achieve the 'Little Triple Crown,' you’ll need to work even harder."
"Of course!" Song Yu thumped his chest confidently.
Inwardly, however, he sighed in relief—better to fear not ranking first than to worry about failing altogether.
---
Elsewhere, with the help of Song Yu’s imperial guards and Song Shihuan’s pressure on Ma Liang, Mrs. Wei managed to bypass Ma Liang’s spies in just five days, thoroughly investigating every village in Yong'an County.
She even calculated the exact amount of silver the court had allocated to Yong'an over the years.
"Your Highness, My Lady, I have a request."
Standing before Song Yu and Song Shihuan, Mrs. Wei hesitated nervously.
"Speak freely," Song Yu said, his expression darkening as he studied the evidence she presented.
Truly, when the emperor is far away, even a monkey can proclaim himself king.
"I wish to gather the women from each village to press their fingerprints on a petition accusing Ma Liang and to record the actual amount of silver they’ve received over the years."
Mrs. Wei knelt. "Punishing Ma Liang isn’t enough—I want justice for these women."
After a long silence, Song Yu untied the jade pendant from his waist—a symbol of his status as the Prince of Qin. Song Shihuan took it and handed it to Mrs. Wei.
"Convincing these women alone won’t be easy. With my father’s pendant, they’ll trust you." Song Shihuan recalled the wary yet silent woman they’d met upon arriving in Yong'an, who had suffered in silence for years.
Tears welled in Mrs. Wei’s eyes as she repeatedly thanked them, even kowtowing in gratitude.
---
Armed with Song Yu’s personal pendant, Mrs. Wei quietly knocked on villagers’ doors, explaining the situation house by house.
"Please, trust me just this once?"
At every household, Mrs. Wei repeated the same words.
Nearly all the women initially resisted fiercely, some even speaking up in defense of Ma Liang.
But in the end, each was swayed by Mrs. Wei’s persuasion and pressed their fingerprints onto the petition.
Mrs. Wei’s voice grew hoarse from speaking.
“You’re the magistrate’s wife. If he were truly a good official, how could he have driven you to this?” one woman said, clutching her frail child to her chest. “My child... goes hungry more often than not. I fear I won’t be able to raise him.”
“My husband only comes home once every six months, and each time he’s called away again within two days. How am I supposed to live like this?” another lamented.
Hearing the women’s despair, Mrs. Wei’s hatred for Ma Liang reached its peak.
After collecting all their fingerprints, she struck the wooden drum outside the county office.
“Madam?” The clerk rushed out at the sound, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw Mrs. Wei. “What brings you here?”
“I accuse Ning'an County Magistrate Ma Liang of embezzling government funds and slaughtering innocent lives,” Mrs. Wei declared, her voice rough with exhaustion.
The drumming drew a crowd, and upon hearing her words, the townspeople immediately rallied to Ma Liang’s defense. “Magistrate Ma is a good official!”
“That’s right! My shop’s prosperity is all thanks to Magistrate Ma funding road repairs, bringing wealthy patrons to Ning'an County.”
Amid the uproar, the clerk tried to snatch the petition from Mrs. Wei, but she dodged his grasp.
“Madam, stop this nonsense. I know you resent Concubine Feng, but domestic disputes shouldn’t be aired in court!”
Under the clerk’s deliberate provocation, the crowd’s hostility toward Mrs. Wei intensified.
Undeterred, she stood her ground. “What? The court refuses to hear a case brought before it? Is this an open defiance of the Great Qi’s laws?”
“You—!”
Ma Liang appeared, locking eyes with Mrs. Wei. “Open the court session,” he spat through gritted teeth.
Just as Ma Liang moved to take the judge’s seat, commotion erupted outside.
Song Yu arrived with Song Shihuan in tow.
With a dismissive wave, Song Yu smirked at Ma Liang. “Isn’t it improper for the accused to preside over his own trial?”
“Since I happen to be here, I’ll take charge.”
No one dared oppose him. They could only watch as Song Yu seated himself at the head of the court, even having an extra chair brought for Song Shihuan.
“Shouldn’t the accused kneel beside Mrs. Wei?” Song Yu added.
Song Shihuan glanced at Baoxia. “Baoxia, teach Magistrate Ma his place.”
Baoxia seized Ma Liang by the collar, dragging him next to Mrs. Wei before kicking his legs out from under him.
Thud—
Ma Liang’s knees hit the ground with a heavy impact.
“Much better,” Song Yu said, satisfied. “Mrs. Wei, state your accusation.”
“Your Highness, I accuse Ma Liang of embezzling funds meant for temple repairs, leaving the women and children of Yong'an County’s villages starving, and murdering laborers who dared oppose him.”
At her words, Ma Liang paled.
“You have no proof! These are baseless slanders!”
“Ma Liang, I’m not speaking without evidence. What you once took from me, you’ll return today—every last bit of it.”
The petition was unfolded by Mrs. Wei, its crimson handprint stark against the paper like an accusation written in blood.
