Chapter 15: Bodhisattva Barbarian (Part 3)
“Thank you all for your hard work. The matter of salary increases needs further discussion. How much, and how to implement it—we need a plan by tomorrow, for the day after tomorrow’s audience with the Emperor.”
Inside the Hall of State Affairs, the purple-robed minister with thick eyebrows and clear eyes sat at the head of the table. “That’s all for today.”
The attendant hurriedly gathered the memorials and began organizing them.
They had attended the early morning court session and then discussed state affairs until nightfall. Hearing Minister Meng’s dismissal, the officials sighed in relief, rising and bowing.
Zhang Jing, sitting beside Meng Yun Xian, remained silent, reading the remaining financial proposals. He looked up, saw that most of the officials had left, and stood up, leaning on his cane.
“Chong Zhi, come to my house. My wife is making hotpot tonight. Let’s eat together,” Meng Yun Xian said to him, then, seeing Hanlin Scholar He Tong about to help his teacher out, walked over with a smile.
“I’m used to simple fare. I won’t trouble you, Minister Meng,” Zhang Jing said dismissively, turning to leave.
But Meng Yun Xian followed him to the door, unfazed by the cold reception. “Then I’ll come to your house. I’m used to simple fare too.”
Zhang Jing stopped and turned, meeting Meng Yun Xian’s smiling face. After a moment, he said coldly, “Weren’t you, Minister Meng, most enthusiastic about rectifying official conduct? Why are you now focusing on finances?”
He then walked out, supported by He Tong, his gaze fixed ahead.
A light mist hung in the air. Meng Yun Xian stood at the doorway, watching as He Tong opened an umbrella for Zhang Jing and helped him down the steps.
“Why do you bother?” Assistant Minister Pei Zhi Yuan walked over to Meng Yun Xian, his hands clasped behind his back. “Minister Zhang clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you. Why are you still so cheerful?”
“It took me three visits to his thatched cottage, eating dinner at his house every day, to convince him to join me in implementing the new policies. During the fourteen years we were apart, I wondered if he regretted what we did.”
“But as you saw just now, he thinks I’ve returned a changed man, no longer as resolute as before, that I’ve softened and become conciliatory.”
Meng Yun Xian looked up at the rain and mist.
“Haven’t you?” Pei Zhi Yuan asked, brushing raindrops from his sleeve.
Meng Yun Xian turned, met Pei Zhi Yuan’s gaze, and smiled. He gestured for a eunuch to bring an umbrella and said slowly, “Of course I have.”
Fourteen years after his return to Yun Jing, countless pairs of eyes watched Meng Yun Xian closely, wary that he might, like fourteen years ago, be too ambitious and eager to challenge their interests.
But no one expected that his first proposal would be a new policy of “generous salaries to foster integrity.”
This wasn’t reform; it was appeasement.
“Even Censor Li, who opposed you most vehemently before, now looks at you with kinder eyes,” Pei Zhi Yuan said, gossiping as if he were cracking sunflower seeds.
“It’s good. It shows that we’re all colleagues and friends, and the Emperor will hear fewer complaints about me.”
Meng Yun Xian took the umbrella from the eunuch and walked out into the rain.
Back at his residence, Meng Yun Xian took the tea offered by a servant and, seeing his wife, Lady Jiang, still looking out into the courtyard, shook his head with a smile. “My dear, Zhang Chong Zhi refused to come. We’ll have to eat hotpot by ourselves.”
Lady Jiang frowned slightly, turning around to wipe the rain from his clothes with a handkerchief. “You deserve it. Back then, at the Xie Chun Pavilion, you said things he didn’t want to hear, causing him to lose a good student. Such a talented young scholar, a successful candidate in the imperial examination, forced to become a soldier on the border…”
“My dear, you forget, I also have a military background.”
Lady Jiang snorted. “Yes, you were a soldier. But if the Great Qi valued its soldiers, why did you insist on becoming a civil official?”
Meng Yun Xian was about to reply when a servant announced, “Master, a guest has arrived.”
The old steward didn’t mention a name, but Meng Yun Xian knew who it was. He took off his official robes, handed them to Lady Jiang, put on a casual jacket, and asked, “In the study?”
“Yes, sir,” the old steward replied, bowing his head.
When Meng Yun Xian arrived at the study, he saw Han Qing, dressed in casual clothes, sitting in a folding chair, lost in thought. He entered the room. “Director Han, what brings you here?”
“Minister Meng.” Han Qing immediately put down his teacup and stood up to greet him. “You’ve just returned to the capital, and I shouldn’t be disturbing you at this time, but I believe the opportunity you’ve been waiting for has arrived.”
“Oh?” Meng Yun Xian sat down beside Han Qing and gestured for him to sit as well. “What do you mean?”
Han Qing sat down and took a letter from his sleeve, handing it to Meng Yun Xian. “Please take a look, Minister.”
Meng Yun Xian took the letter and read it carefully by the candlelight.
“If this Ni Su is the deceased’s younger sister, why is she being held in the Silu Prison?”
“She told the Guangning Prefecture Yamen that she was guided by a dream, which is how she found her way to Qingyuan Mountain. Magistrate Yin found her claims absurd and ordered her to be held in the Silu Prison and subjected to the welcome beating,” Han Qing replied truthfully.
“Guided by a dream?” Meng Yun Xian chuckled. “Is this woman currently in your custody at the Yin Ye Si?”
“Yes,” Han Qing nodded.
Meng Yun Xian pondered for a moment, then put away the letter, his expression brightening. “You’re right, Director Han. This winter examination scholar, Ni Qinglan, is our opportunity.”
***
Inside the Yin Ye Si, shielded from the falling rain, the officers on night duty chatted and ate in the guard room across from the torture chamber. Someone had brought food for the unconscious Ni Su and left it on the table.
But she couldn’t get up, nor did she respond.
“That young woman can’t even sit up. I doubt she can eat,” the officer who had brought the food said to his colleagues upon returning to the guard room.
“What? Do you want to feed her yourself?” someone teased. “Or perhaps find a servant for her?”
“The Director hasn’t even interrogated her yet. I’m just worried she might die,” the officer said, throwing peanut shells at his teasing colleague.
“We’ll ask the Director when he arrives and see if we can find a medic for her.”
The muffled voices from the guard room reached Ni Su’s ears. She slowly opened her eyes and saw the young man in the dim cell, patiently feeling his way around the table.
She watched as his hands touched the porcelain bowl on the table. He paused, then felt the spoon, and slowly, step by step, made his way towards her.
“Ni Su,” Xu He Xue said softly, unaware that she was awake, as he sat down beside her bed.
“Mmm,” Ni Su replied.
Xu He Xue, surprised by her quick response, said, “You haven’t eaten anything all day.”
He picked up the spoon and scooped up some porridge, slowly extending his hand towards her.
“A little to the left,” Ni Su said weakly, her voice hoarse, seeing his hand move in the wrong direction.
Xu He Xue moved his hand slightly to the left.
“A little further.”
He moved his hand again.
Ni Su’s lips touched the warm porridge on the spoon, and she opened her mouth to eat. But looking at Xu He Xue, she noticed that his figure seemed much fainter.
Faint, shimmering dust floated around him.
She weakly tugged at his sleeve.
Xu He Xue, unable to see and caught off guard, his sleeve pulled back slightly, revealing the bloody, gaping wounds beneath.
It struck Ni Su then that he must be suffering for being so far from her.
Yet, he had still gone to have that letter written.
She watched as he adjusted his sleeve. Glancing at the brightly lit guard room, she ignored the throbbing pain and sat up, her dark hair damp with sweat, her face pale. Gripping the iron bars, she banged on the cell door’s lock. “Someone! Help!”
Her cries made her throat feel like it was on fire.
Xu He Xue, unsure why she was doing this, heard movement from the guard room and silently put down the bowl.
“Miss, what are you doing?” an officer asked, approaching the cell.
“Please bring me some candles and a flint and steel,” Ni Su said, gasping for breath.
Hearing the word “candles,” Xu He Xue’s long eyelashes fluttered, his lifeless eyes turning towards her voice.
The officers, puzzled, exchanged glances, then brought a few unlit candles from the guard room. However, following Yin Ye Si procedure, they didn’t leave after giving her the flint and steel. They watched as the young woman struggled to sit up and, with trembling hands, lit the candles one by one.
Assuming she was afraid of the dark, they took back the flint and steel. Worried she might harm herself, they placed the lit candles on high sconces embedded in the wall, out of her reach, before returning to the guard room.
The flickering candlelight illuminated the quiet cell, a beacon of light for Xu He Xue.
He could now see Ni Su’s battered state after the beating. She was covered in blood, her damp hair clinging to her cheeks. She looked incredibly fragile, lying weakly on the bed, her head resting on her hand. “I… I don’t want to be seen like this,” she whispered.
Xu He Xue looked down at her for a moment, then picked up the bowl of porridge and brought a spoonful to her lips. “I know.”
He, too, had once felt that way.
“But… I’m willing to light the candles for you,” Ni Su said softly, taking a sip of the porridge he offered.
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