TBR CH134

When Ji Ying emerged from the palace, the sky was pitch black, and no stars were visible. He let out a sigh. The flickering lights of the imperial city surrounded him, and outside the gate, someone was already there to meet him, along with a dark palace sedan chair. His next tasks were still very heavy.

He settled into the sedan chair and, as if casually, asked, “Any new news?”

The sedan bearer was from the palace, at least he appeared to be. But when he heard Lord Ji’s question, his face remained calm; he merely said softly, “His Majesty summoned the Seventh Prince a few days ago but has since ignored him. Prince Duan, on the other hand, has been extremely favored recently, visiting His Majesty daily, perhaps…”

Ji Ying’s voice was a little hoarse from fatigue, yet it still conveyed a chilling danger: “Watch your words.”

The other man fell silent. He reverted to being the palace sedan bearer, eyes fixed straight ahead. The carriage moved steadily through the night as curfew approached, the clip-clop of horse hooves announcing new tidings from the palace in advance. Ji Ying knew the trajectory of every street in the royal city by heart. He closed his eyes, without lifting the curtain, and passed by the Chancellor’s residence.

But his heart still trembled slightly, uncontrollably.

The Chancellor’s council hall was still brightly lit.

First, Mr. Fang reported what he had found in the Ji Residence.

The few remaining pages left by Old Mr. Wei had stumped both his students and the other strategists in the Chancellor’s residence, but who was Mr. Fang? Traversing the jianghu, deciphering secret codes was child’s play for him. Chu Huaicun handed him the fragmented text directly, and he dared to take on the task, burying himself in his mysterious books for several days before emerging with a mysteriously knowing smile.

Since the imperial examination, Liang Kechun had practically camped at the entrance of Mr. Fang’s study. Seeing him emerge, he quickly went up to greet him:

“Sir, have you… have you understood what these fragmented pages mean?”

Mr. Fang, with a rather ethereal air, wiggled a finger, only speaking after thoroughly piquing curiosity: “Not yet.”

A somewhat aggrieved Liang Kechun complained to Chu Huaicun about Mr. Fang’s bad habit of teasing people. Chancellor Chu chuckled, and just as Mr. Fang strolled into the front hall, he simply asked him what he had discovered.

Mr. Fang said, “What I’ve found, I’m not entirely sure yet. These fragmented pages are actually divided into two parts. The first part is a decipherable code, which roughly translates to ‘up seven, left four, up nine, buried below.’ This is clearly a set of directions. The second part is a type of writing that even I cannot read. But…”

“But what?” Liang Kechun’s eyes widened, and he quickly asked.

“But I can probably guess which tribe’s language it is,” Mr. Fang said. “You were all still young back then. During the former emperor’s seventieth birthday, a team of exotic carriages came to the capital to pay respects. The leading figures were covered in twisted tattoos, speaking an incomprehensible gibberish. Fortunately, what they brought was real gold and silver, and they had also learned the Central Plains script. At that time, I saw their internal correspondence; the characters looked exactly like this ghostly script.”

He quickly continued, as if fearing the task would fall to him: “I certainly don’t recognize it.”

Liang Kechun stared at him blankly. He had intended to demand an explanation but found himself once again captivated by Mr. Fang’s words:

“Then, then why would Old Mr. Wei leave this behind?”

“Alas, youth are unteachable,” Mr. Fang shook his head. “At that time, the former emperor had specifically chosen Wei Gong to learn and record their script; it’s just that, reportedly, as soon as some progress was made, their caravan had to depart. It’s likely Wei Gong left a secret message using this tribe’s script precisely so that even if found, no one would understand it.”

Seeing Liang Kechun’s introverted nature being teased by Mr. Fang again, and eagerly wanting to speak, Chancellor Chu couldn’t help but shake his head and get straight to the point: “Do you believe Old Mr. Wei left clues somewhere?”

“Precisely.” Chu Huaicun was, after all, a chancellor of immense influence, speaking with an aura of unstated authority. Only then did Mr. Fang become serious, no longer hiding anything: “I thought of going to the old Wei family residence. Following the first part of the coded text, perhaps something can be discovered.”

The time Chu Huaicun spent at the Ji Residence was precisely preparation for Mr. Fang.

When Chancellor Chu exited the Ji Residence, Mr. Fang was already waiting in the carriage, holding a book. Seeing Chancellor Chu enter, the pockmarked coachman he was impersonating put down the book, nodded to Chu Huaicun, and even smoothly took the reins of the horse pulling the carriage, driving it forward like a true coachman.

Chancellor Chu, meanwhile, took the book, looking at the convoluted, winding characters on it, and felt a long-forgotten headache of academic difficulty.

He calmly lowered his eyes, pausing suggestively over the symbols for a moment—

Indeed, he couldn’t read it at all.

“With this, can you decipher Old Mr. Wei’s secret text?”

“Yes,” Mr. Fang said, driving the carriage, his voice slightly scattered by the night wind, “but not entirely. Chancellor Chu, consider this a textbook for literacy, and us all as uninitiated children. It will still take some effort to read and understand it by对照.”

This same sentence was later transmitted verbatim into the ears of Liang Kechun, who was waiting in the Chancellor’s council hall.

The other party nearly took the book and ran to the study, but Chu Huaicun had to call him back. Chancellor Chu observed him for a moment, then sighed somewhat helplessly, saying it might be better to leave this matter to Mr. Fang. After all, Mr. Fang had traveled widely and had considerable experience in learning languages. Mr. Fang, singled out for a task, looked subtly excited and took on the assignment.

As for Liang Kechun, who remained, he was informed of another matter.

Secrets were hard to keep in the capital, especially things about to be widely announced. Chu Huaicun named several individuals and asked Liang Kechun if he had heard of them. Most of these names were elegant; even if not, when they appeared in the top few ranks of the spring imperial examination results, people couldn’t help but associate them with auspicious phrases like “Wenqu Star descending to the mortal world,” even dissecting poems to find their origins.

“Oh…”

Liang Kechun’s gaze still unconsciously drifted in the direction Mr. Fang had left, but his feet remained honestly rooted to the spot,

“I didn’t socialize much with them. Chancellor Chu has also met these people, weren’t they all guests at the ‘Qu Shui Liu Shang’ banquet? Brother Zhang is this year’s second-place winner, Young Master Lin is fifth, and the others also performed well.”

Of the people on this list, five were from the top ten alone.

“Why is Chancellor Chu asking about these people?” Liang Kechun finally reacted.

Chu Huaicun’s expression grew more serious; he already had an inherently cold, icy demeanor, and now, even more imposing, he said faintly:

“This list was sent directly to His Majesty’s desk. Someone leaked the imperial examination questions in advance. All these people paid heavily to buy the questions, and their obtained rankings should all be voided. His Majesty is furious and has ordered Ji Ying to thoroughly investigate this matter overnight. Young Master Liang, I congratulate you; perhaps your name should move up a bit.”

Liang Kechun’s ranking did change, quite significantly. He directly took the position of the third-place winner.

Even General Zhenbei, when he visited the Chancellor’s residence again and saw Liang Kechun handling official documents beside Chu Huaicun, could recognize him as the newly appointed Young Liang Tanhua. However, before that, Liang Kechun himself was nearly detained for suspected involvement in the leak. After all, the people on the list were all participants of that “Qu Shui Liu Shang” banquet, and he was present as well.

It was just that on that day, he arrived the latest and left the earliest.

His rush to intercept Chancellor Chu’s path and weep there had ironically shielded him from disaster.

This matter should have had nothing to do with Chu Huaicun, as it was exceedingly difficult to catch the Chancellor’s eye.

Among this cohort of scholars, he had only chosen Liang Kechun to join his ranks. When Liang Kechun’s initial ranking was revealed, people acidly remarked that he was merely seventh on the imperial榜, how did he truly excel above others? Now that he had become one of the top three, people had indeed shut their mouths.

The most direct connection of this incident to Chancellor Chu lay with Qin Sangzhi, whose talent was renowned throughout the land.

Almost the moment he received the news, Qin Sangzhi immediately came to the Chancellor’s residence seeking Chu Huaicun’s protection. He had organized the “Qu Shui Liu Shang” banquet, contacted all the attendees, and everything that transpired there was most related to him. If a thorough investigation were launched, even if he had no involvement, he would still end up with a bad reputation.

He wanted Chu Huaicun to clear him of any involvement in this matter.

Chancellor Chu had one list, but the palace had another. The other list included not only the scholars suspected of cheating but also everyone involved in the cheating scandal. For a time, everyone felt insecure. Most people had no chance to see the full list, only waiting in fear and despair for their fate to be decided.

And Ji Ying, like a rabid dog, bit into household after household on the list.

That group of scholars who had just won accolades and passed the imperial examination quickly became beaten dogs. The red celebratory cloths and festive gifts had not even been removed when Ji Ying swiftly escorted them into the imperial prison. Many cried out for injustice, and some already renowned figures wailed about their innocence, publicly denouncing Ji Ying as a treacherous lackey.

“I’m truly sorry,”

Ji Ying’s eyes curved, his lips not dropping, “It’s not me who’s about to be thrown into prison. Some people aren’t even worthy of being lackeys, and they’ve been dragged into this irretrievable situation. What good does it do to complain about me?”

His utter shamelessness made people sigh even more, truly confirming him as a wicked official who relied on power to oppress others. Although everyone hated him to the bone, Ji Ying’s actions at this time were indeed unchallengeable. He pressed down his pale palm, and someone forcefully pressed the wailing scholar onto the ground, making him literally eat dirt.

He stood indifferently in the sunlight, but the bright, scorching sun couldn’t penetrate the dark depths of his eyes. Ji Ying observed the distressed scholars for a moment, utterly unmoved. Only when he was about to turn and leave, catching a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, did he involuntarily pause.

Chu Huaicun had observed the entire scene from a distance.

Chu Huaicun had not intentionally passed by this spot, but merely seeing the commotion ahead, he ordered his sedan bearers to stop. His eyes were like the cold glint reflected on a sword, serene and icy. It wasn’t until he saw such a gaze that Ji Ying felt hot all over, almost desperately needing to swallow a few sips of ice water to relieve the dryness in his mouth. He blinked under the scorching sun, his smile only deepening.

If he had known Chancellor Chu was here, he would have played his part even more beautifully.

However, before he could widen the curve of his lips, Chancellor Chu had already lowered the curtain. Then, the Chancellor’s sedan chair sank down, silently moving forward across a street.

Ji Ying felt the smile freeze on his face. He subconsciously glanced around. On the ground, there were still traces left by the struggling scholar who had been thrown into the imperial prison. The remaining people, however, had all learned their lesson, keeping their eyes downcast, not even daring to look up at him. Only the scholar’s mother, clutching the door with its still-hanging red couplets, seemed unable to believe what had just happened.

“That’s my child, my child passed the imperial examination, he wouldn’t…”

She saw Ji Ying looking at her, and her scattered soul seemed to just return to her body.

She was the only one present who was still looking up, her eyes gentle like a cow’s, moist and aged. She couldn’t believe that her life would be so absurd as to take another turn even at this point. The blow fate had dealt her was too great, so much so that even Lord Ji, whose dangerous and gloomy aura was almost uncontrollable, couldn’t bring her back to her senses.

She was about to walk over, grab his sleeve, and plead sorrowfully.

At that moment, what reaction should he show to be truly convincing?

The smile on Ji Ying’s face suddenly vanished completely. He turned away mercilessly, ordering the guards assigned to him to leave the area, as there was no need to linger. At this moment in the capital, there were still people on tenterhooks, knowing their fate had been sealed, yet clinging to a slim hope of not being targeted by the ruthless demon.

The old woman had originally intended to beg this official-looking person for mercy, but he no longer even bothered to smile, revealing a sinister expression that made the old woman involuntarily stop in her tracks. It was that moment of disparity; the guards beside him surged forward, and he got into the sedan chair embroidered with imperial patterns, without even looking back.

She stood there, bewildered.

At this moment, the silent crowd around them finally dared to raise their heads and, seeing her standing alone in the middle, became agitated and frightened. Most scattered, fearing that the bad luck of this household would rub off on them, but a few remained to care for the old woman, shaking their heads in sympathy and looking as if they had narrowly escaped disaster:

“It’s a good thing you moved slowly and weren’t noticed. If you had truly offended Lord Ji, tsk tsk, that dog of an official holds grudges; not only your son, but even your own life might not be safe!”

“Is there really such a bad person?”

The old woman’s voice trembled; what the person beside her said was terrifying, scaring her so much that she broke out in a cold sweat under the scorching sun. But she was more worried about her son, even though a mother’s concern could not traverse the cold imperial prison and reach the ears of those confined within.

“Is that false?” The person supporting her sighed dramatically, feeling the trembling of the old woman he was holding, and quickly changed to a gentler tone of voice, so as not to upset her.

Ji Ying found a teahouse along the way and ordered a bowl of tea. The private booths upstairs were already sparsely occupied, and upon seeing his distinctive dark purple official robe, they cleared out completely. He slowly sipped the bitter tea alone, but the more he drank, the drier his mouth felt. After all, a teahouse was indoors, and the air circulation was poor, making it stuffy. He thought this, yet still brought a hand to his forehead.

Scalding hot.

This was the situation he least wanted to face. He slowly exhaled, feeling it thick and muddy. The tea in his mouth was still cool, but after finishing this bowl, he would have to continue with the tasks he needed to complete.

Just then, Ji Ying heard footsteps.

Behind him, the palace guards naturally heard them too. They rushed forward to verify the identity of the newcomer before Ji Ying did. The teahouse owner quickly and profusely explained that the person coming up was the storyteller of the teahouse, who would come to the private booth to tell a story at this time every day. He looked timid and apologetic:

“If… if Your Excellency doesn’t wish to listen, I’ll have him go down.”

Everyone’s gaze turned to the storyteller beside them. He was blindfolded with cloth, clearly blind, with two wisps of mustache, and his long gown was laundered to a faded white. At this moment, he too looked bewildered. However, he couldn’t look back at the crowd or assess the current situation, so he didn’t realize that he had encountered Ji Ying, the most dangerous and treacherous official in the current court.

The teahouse owner seemed afraid he would offend Ji Ying, and continued to speak on his behalf. He said that the storyteller was his maternal uncle, unfortunately born to offend the gods, which caused his blindness; he also said that he had originally told stories in the Jiangnan region, gaining some fame, which was why he was invited to the capital, and that local men, women, and children loved to come and listen…

Ji Ying’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, then he interrupted, “Let him stay.”

He then added, “Everyone else, leave. I want to be alone for a while. After listening to the story and finishing my tea, I’ll continue with my work.”

The sun was strong, and the room was stuffy. Even if the guards hesitated for a moment, they were overwhelmed by the too-brief time and the desire for rest. Due to their hierarchy, they dared not refuse Ji Ying’s order, and indeed couldn’t see what harm it would do to the larger situation for Lord Ji to spend a moment with a lowly storyteller.

When the last person retreated, Ji Ying raised his eyes.

The storyteller still stood quietly at the front of the seat. Behind the white cloth, one could imagine a pair of empty eyes. He estimated that most people had left, then put on a smiling face and said to Ji Ying:

“Guest, do you wish to hear ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms,’ or something more refined, like ‘The Story of the Western Wing’?”

“Did Chu Huaicun send you?” Ji Ying asked.

He felt that he must have caught a chill during his walk with Chu Huaicun in the old garden, which was why he was now drowsy and his palms were hot. After being confined in the imperial prison for so many years, Ji Ying’s skin was paler than an average person’s, so even if he had a fever, it was difficult to detect, especially since he was good at enduring pain.

He lowered his head and took a sip of tea, feeling his throat still dry and hot.

“Oh,” the storyteller’s expression didn’t change, utterly disregarding Ji Ying’s question, “So the play you ordered is ‘Half-Face Makeup.’ Then you’ve come to the right person, I’m best at telling this story…”

The storyteller clearly possessed considerable professional skill. Ji Ying did not refute him. He had used more strength than he thought to utter that name. At this moment, he also recalled the glance he had cast towards Chu Huaicun on the street earlier.

Yet, all these days, he had been the one avoiding Chancellor Chu.

He had experienced the feeling of being shunned too many times. But Chu Huaicun hadn’t even returned his gaze, departing resolutely, as if he were an inconsequential person, and as if he had witnessed the entirety of his wrongdoing. Ji Ying’s head, due to the high fever, also became drowsy and hot, unable to process this sudden turn of events.

“Tell it,” Ji Ying said. He soon began to regret this decision.

The storyteller told a story: a young man and woman fell in love, but they were from feuding families. The man was afflicted with a strange poison called Half-Face Makeup. The woman fell in love with him and consequently gave him her family’s antidote, instructing him to take it regularly. They overcame various worldly obstacles and finally managed to be together.

“But,” the storyteller’s tone shifted, “because the man was overjoyed, he forgot to take the antidote the woman had given him on time…”

The treatment was already halfway through, but the medicine was suddenly stopped, and so the poison penetrated to his bones. A divine physician was invited, who also sighed endlessly, blaming the two for not heeding instructions and stopping the treatment on their own. The two suffered immensely, but were powerless to reverse their fate, and ultimately were separated by life and death.

What a tragic story.

“Lord Ji,” the storyteller took off the cloth covering his eyes, revealing a pair of familiar eyes, “do you have any feelings about this?”

Halfway through listening, Ji Ying felt his whole body ache. The storyteller described the onset of the poison with remarkable vividness, his words laced with condemnation. He slowly leaned forward onto the table, making himself more comfortable.

“Mr. Fang,”

His voice sounded much calmer, “Aren’t you afraid of my anger, speaking in such a veiled manner? Never mind, you probably aren’t… Aren’t you afraid of Chancellor Chu getting angry if you portray him as a woman?”

“Just don’t tell him, then,”

Mr. Fang’s face showed a faint hint of anger, and he snorted heavily, “If it weren’t for Chancellor Chu’s master, I wouldn’t bother treating a patient like you. You two have an argument, and you don’t even want your life anymore? Do you still know how to follow medical advice?”

He looked at Ji Ying’s sickly appearance, and couldn’t help but quickly step forward two paces, examining him up and down.

“You like this,”

He sighed, “Alas, never mind, no time to lose. If Chancellor Chu hadn’t told me you’d show up here, I doubt you’d ever come to me on your own, even if your brain were feverish. I’ve brought the needles.”

Ji Ying said softly, “Mr. Fang, please don’t deceive me. Even if the ‘Half-Face Makeup’ antidote is suddenly stopped halfway through, there’s no life-threatening danger. I’m already content to use this opportunity to sever ties with Chancellor Chu. You’re a discerning person, Sir, so I’ll be blunt. Chancellor Chu is the son of your old friend. If he mixes with someone like me, your old friend would probably…”

“Don’t move.” Mr. Fang was still dressed as a storyteller. He skillfully unwrapped the bean-green cloth parcel, taking out a few silver needles inside: “I know you’re in a hurry. Let’s make this quick.”

Ji Ying’s lips curved again. He forced himself to sit up, feeling everything he touched warm and heavy, his body weighed down, devoid of strength. The poison in his body, unsuppressed by the needles, was eager to flare up again.

But he still adjusted his expression and stood up:

“Mr. Fang, thank you for coming all this way, but I really don’t need it.”

Ji Ying walked towards the tightly closed door on the second floor, his steps heavy but steady. He thought a lot with each step, mostly about why Chancellor Chu still cared about his life or death, about his aloof and cold gaze under the sunlight, and about Mr. Fang’s arrangements at this moment, which were so impeccable they couldn’t be faulted. He feared that if he hesitated even slightly, he would fall into a trap named Chu Huaicun.

He had almost reached the door, just short of placing his hand on the doorknob.

“Chancellor Chu asked me to deliver a message to you,”

Mr. Fang said leisurely, satisfied to see Ji Ying’s rigid movement, “A very important message. However, he told me I could only tell you after I had detoxified you.”