An Sheng took advantage of his sick leave to revel in sweet intimacy with A Mei at the manor.
These past two days, however, an incident had occurred in the capital.
Someone had filed an imperial petition, and that someone was a frail woman of about thirty.
According to imperial law, anyone who submitted a petition directly to the emperor, regardless of whether the accusation was true or false, must first endure fifty strokes of the bamboo cane.
Fifty strokes could not be endured even by a strong young man, let alone by this apparently thin and fragile woman.
The officer in charge showed a sympathetic reluctance, advising, “Oh, aren’t you just asking for death? Leave quickly. What is this imperial petition for? Not to mention fifty strokes, you wouldn’t even survive twenty!”
But the woman remained resolute, her eyes filled with a determination that scorned death.
The officer had no choice but to report to his superior, only to receive the reply that all must proceed according to the law.
Thus, by the time Emperor Chengde received the report, the woman had already died from the punishment. Yet the bloodstained petition was still presented before the emperor.
It was a complaint accusing Prince Anchang of Lindong of bullying men and women in his fiefdom, oppressing the local people, flouting royal law, taking lives with reckless cruelty, and murdering imperial officials. Though the petition was brief, bearing no witness or evidence, every word dripped with blood, every phrase brimmed with heart-wrenching despair. It did not demand justice, but merely begged His Majesty to send an upright official to investigate the truth, so as to rescue the people of Lindong from their torment.
And at the place of signature, there was a private seal specially issued by the Ministry of Personnel to appointed officials of the court.
Shortly afterward, an attendant reported that the identity of the woman who died from the petition had been confirmed. She was the wife of the official whose seal appeared on the petition.
Emperor Chengde fell silent.
The candles in the great hall burned all night without being extinguished.
In the dead of night, A Mei was sleeping sweetly in An Sheng's arms, when a patterned, rhythmic noise came from outside the door. An Sheng opened his eyes alertly. Carefully, he shifted her limbs, which were wrapped around him, and quietly lifted the covers to get out of bed.
He lit a candle, his gaze first falling tenderly on her sleeping face, which bore a faint red blush and innocence. Seeing the soft corners of her lips slightly upturned, unconsciously evoking a charming and alluring expression, a smile unconsciously tugged at his own lips.
Then, he silently moved to the door, opened it a crack, and a letter was immediately passed in from outside.
An Sheng tore open the envelope, his eyes moving along the handwriting. Finally, he raised an eyebrow, his smile widening, and a dangerous glint flashed through his dark eyes…
The next morning at court, just before the session ended, Minister of Justice Cui Gudao suddenly stepped forward.
His expression calm and methodical, he announced, “Your Majesty, I have another matter to report.”
Emperor Chengde looked up. “Speak.”
Cui Gudao began in a clear voice, “I wonder if the lords have heard of yesterday’s imperial petition incident?”
At these words, the officials displayed varied expressions. Some remained silent and indifferent, while many exchanged glances, their eyes full of confusion.
Cui Gudao continued, “The Ministry of Justice is responsible for handling criminal cases and inquiries. My fellow colleagues may not be aware, but I certainly am.”
With that, he pulled the bloodstained petition from his sleeve and read it aloud in its entirety before everyone.
He then revealed the identity of the petition’s author.
When he finished, the great hall fell completely silent.
After a brief stillness, Cui Gudao spoke calmly, “Your Majesty, this matter concerns the reputation of a member of the imperial family. However, there is no evidence. In my judgments, I always rely on facts and proof. Without any basis, this mere piece of paper is nothing. Still, since the petitioner is dead, I cannot, out of reason and emotion, simply ignore it. I will not draw any conclusion, only relay the facts. Since I have finished, I will step back.”
So saying, he returned to his position with decisive ease, adopting an air of quiet.
Emperor Chengde swept his gaze over the utterly quiet assembly of ministers.
He tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest of the dragon throne.
Once, twice, three times…
The emperor raised his hand and slowly pointed at the first minister on his left, Grand Secretary Tan. In a flat tone that betrayed neither pleasure nor anger, he said, “Let us begin, Grand Secretary Tan. Each of you will give your opinions on this matter, one by one.”
......
Who was Prince Anchang? During the reign of the former emperor, a decree had been issued making it clear that no prince or imperial son in this dynasty was to be granted a fiefdom. However, Prince Anchang was the only prince ever to be awarded lands.
The reason was simple: Prince Anchang's fief was personally granted by the founding emperor—the father of the former emperor. Moreover, Prince Anchang was the younger brother of the former emperor, born of the same mother, and now the emperor’s own grand-uncle.
To call him a true member of the imperial family and a blue-blooded noble was by no means an exaggeration.
But this sudden incident placed the civil and military officials in a difficult predicament.
The main trouble was that no one could gauge Emperor Chengde’s current stance toward his grand-uncle.
Grand Secretary Tan, as the first to be called forward, stepped out from the ranks. Frowning slightly, he pondered for a moment, then said, “Your servant believes this matter is too one-sided. Prince Anchang has served three reigns. Although he has long remained in his fief, he has always enjoyed high virtue and prestige, commanding great respect among the court officials. For the sake of upholding imperial authority and clearing his name, an investigation should be conducted.”
Grand Secretary Tan having spoken, the officials behind him followed suit, and soon a clamor of discussion arose.
Most said an investigation was necessary, yet no one dared to take responsibility for it.
But this was a hot potato—who would conduct the investigation? How should it be done? No matter whether the result was good or bad, it would not bring any corresponding benefit.
Arguments multiplied. The Ministry of Justice and the Supreme Court passed the buck to each other, while the Grand Secretariat dared not utter a word.
A case involving a figure at the rank of a prince, especially the emperor’s grand-uncle—who would dare to handle it? If an imperial commissioner was to be appointed, who would be chosen?
In the end,
Everyone’s gaze unconsciously and tacitly drifted toward an empty seat in the second row.
That spot was the usual position of An Sheng, the Director of the Inner Factory.
At that moment, someone from the Ministry of War spoke up: “Your Majesty, the Inner Factory holds the duty of overseeing all officials. This matter is best handled by the Inner Factory to ensure credibility.”
“Your servant agrees.”
“Your servants concur.”
……
As soon as the morning court session ended, word reached An Sheng’s residence. An Sheng’s face immediately darkened.
He let out a cold snort. “When there’s good fortune to be gained, they don’t think of us. But when there’s a thankless and thankless task, they shove it onto us. A bunch of sanctimonious hypocrites!”
A Mei, who was beside him, looked troubled by this and quickly asked, “What kind of bad thing are they pushing onto you, husband?”
An Sheng pulled A Mei into his arms, slightly curling the corners of his mouth, his eyes growing distant. “They don’t dare to wade into this muddy water. The truth is, I am the only one who can handle this. His Majesty certainly knows it in his heart. I have long heard that Lindong is a veritable money pit. There’s no harm in going there to take a look.”
“Besides, you and I, husband and wife, haven’t traveled or made an outing in quite some time. A Mei, would you like to go somewhere far?”
A Mei blinked, answering as if it were the most natural thing in the world, “Where my husband goes, there A Mei wishes to go.”
“Good.”
