Chapter 34: Crows Cry at Night (Part 3)
“Alright,” Han Qing stood up, placing his hands on the table. “Miss Ni, don’t forget what you’ve said today. I don’t like leaving things unfinished. But if you lose your nerve and are intimidated, my efforts will be in vain.”
Ni Su had assumed Han Qing was hesitant to pursue the case due to the risks involved, but he had been testing her resolve.
Leaving the Yin Ye Si, the mist had thinned, and sunlight warmed her face. She felt slightly dazed.
“Miss Ni, you don’t understand their methods. Director Han is worried you won’t be able to withstand their threats and bribes.” Wu Ji Kang was the son of the Grand Mentor and the Emperor’s brother-in-law. How could a lone woman like Ni Su fight against such power?
If her resolve wavered, the case would be closed prematurely, and Han Qing, having offended Grand Mentor Wu without securing a conviction, would be in a difficult position.
“I misjudged Director Han,” Ni Su said, lowering her eyes. “But I have nothing left to lose. His willingness to pursue my brother’s case is more important than anything.”
“Commander Zhou, there’s no need to escort me. I can go back myself,” she said, bowing to Zhou Ting and turning to walk away.
She walked quickly, disappearing into the crowd. Zhou Ting watched her go, then Chao Yi Song approached. “Commander Zhou, she asked you not to escort her. Why didn’t you?”
Zhou Ting glanced at him, his hand on his sword hilt, then turned and walked back into the Yin Ye Si, silent.
It was confirmed that Wu Ji Kang’s servant had instructed the medicine woman to give A-Zhou’s mother an overdose of Chuan Wu and then hired assassins to silence her. Han Qing, empowered by the Emperor’s decree, had sent officers to the Wu residence to bring Wu Ji Kang and his servant to the Yin Ye Si for questioning.
This caused an uproar in the court.
Grand Mentor Wu had few children. Besides Imperial Concubine Wu, he only had Wu Ji Kang, his son born in his old age, who had also participated in the winter examination.
Wu Ji Kang spent five days at the Yin Ye Si. Grand Mentor Wu, feigning illness, went to the palace every day, but not only did he not see the Emperor, he even fainted at the Yongding Gate.
On the sixth day, Han Qing delivered Wu Ji Kang’s confession to the Emperor. But the Emperor didn’t respond, instead ordering the censors and Hanlin Academy scholars to discuss Wu Ji Kang’s crimes.
“Minister Meng, those old fogies are about to tear down the roof of the Golden Audience Hall. Why aren’t you saying anything? The Emperor has glanced at you several times, but you’re pretending not to notice,” Assistant Minister Pei Zhi Yuan said, returning to the Hall of State Affairs and gulping down a large bowl of tea.
“It’s too early,” Meng Yun Xian said, leaning back in his chair. “Have they started arguing yet?”
“Not yet,” Pei Zhi Yuan said, sitting down beside him.
“Then there’s no need to rush. The fire isn’t hot enough yet,” Meng Yun Xian said, taking a sip of tea.
“What do you mean?” Pei Zhi Yuan chuckled.
“They’re still arguing about the details of Ni Qinglan’s case, whether Wu Ji Kang is guilty and how to punish him. As long as they’re focused on the case itself, we shouldn’t interfere. Let Chief Censor Jiang and the others worry about it.”
***
Ni Su learned of Wu Ji Kang’s confession while visiting Cai Chun Xu and Miao Yi Yang at the Grand Commandant’s residence. Miao Yi Yang had been taken to the Yin Ye Si again and was now ill, traumatized.
“That Wu Ji Kang is a madman,” Miao Yi Yang said, huddled under his blankets, clinging to Cai Chun Xu. “I saw him when I left. Miss Ni, he was smiling! Like nothing had happened! It was a horrible smile…”
“Sister A-Xi, don’t listen to his nonsense,” Cai Chun Xu said, looking at Ni Su with concern.
Ni Su paused in her writing. “This prescription is a secret formula from my father. If Second Young Master takes it tonight, he shouldn’t have nightmares or convulsions.”
“Quickly, have someone fetch the medicine,” Wang Shi said, remembering that the other physician had also praised Ni Su’s previous prescription. She felt slightly embarrassed.
Grand Commandant Miao wasn’t home. He was reportedly furious with Du Cong. He had assumed Du Cong had helped him out of gratitude for his past service in the Hu Ning Army, but Du Cong had clearly been using Miao Yi Yang as a smokescreen.
Enraged, Grand Commandant Miao had informed the Emperor and personally led a search for Du Cong.
“Sister A-Xi, why don’t you stay here for a while? I heard there are rumors on Nan Huai Street, and the neighbors…” Cai Chun Xu said, taking Ni Su’s arm, her voice trailing off.
“My clinic is closed, so they can’t cause trouble. Besides, the Yin Ye Si officers are there. I’m not afraid,” Ni Su said.
The incident with A-Zhou’s mother had been twisted and spread on Nan Huai Street. Although the Yin Ye Si had cleared her name, rumors persisted, even suggesting that she had an affair with Zhou Ting, which was why she had been released unharmed.
Ni Su easily guessed the culprit’s motive.
They wanted to drive Zhou Ting away and remove the Yin Ye Si’s protection, making her vulnerable.
Cai Chun Xu wanted to offer comfort, but looking at Ni Su’s thin face, she simply said softly, “Sister A-Xi, don’t be sad…”
Ni Su smiled at her and shook her head. “I’m not sad, Sister Cai. I’ve been waiting for this day. Wu Ji Kang has confessed. He’ll pay for his crime.”
“I’ll wait here, no matter what. I’ll watch him pay with his life for my brother’s death.”
Ni Su couldn’t forget how she had received her brother’s body from the Yin Ye Si, how Zhou Ting had told her he had starved to death.
She couldn’t stop imagining his suffering.
Whenever she thought of it, she would kneel before the altar, gazing at her mother and brother’s memorial tablets, throughout the night.
“I hope the Emperor orders his execution soon!” Cai Chun Xu said, remembering her husband’s words. Wu Ji Kang had reportedly been laughing even at the Yin Ye Si, showing no fear.
Leaving the Grand Commandant’s residence, Ni Su walked briskly, the sunlight warm on her face. She saw the white, fluffy shadow on the ground, always by her side.
Back on Nan Huai Street, she saw a group of children throwing pebbles at her clinic’s door. They scattered as she approached.
People stared and whispered, but she ignored them, unlocking the door.
A child hiding behind a stall grinned and threw a pebble.
The white shadow coalesced into the form of a young man. He raised his hand, and the pebble, about to hit Ni Su’s back, changed direction.
The child, unable to see him, was struck on the forehead by the returning pebble.
He cried out and ran off, clutching his head.
Ni Su, startled, looked back at the fleeing child. “Did he see you?” she asked Xu He Xue, puzzled.
Xu He Xue shook his head, silent.
As darkness fell, Ni Su lit many lanterns on the porch, illuminating the courtyard. Xu He Xue, inside, could see the bright light on the window screen.
He couldn’t hear any sound from her room. Perhaps she was asleep. Would she sleep better tonight?
She had waited so long, and finally, there was hope for justice in her brother’s case. Had the burden on her heart finally lifted?
Xu He Xue sat at his desk, gazing at the window screen, then looked down at the ledger.
“Xu Zi Ling,” he heard the door open next door, followed by her footsteps. He looked up and saw her shadow.
“I can’t sleep,” she said, standing outside his door. “Can I come in for a while?”
“Come in,” he said softly.
Ni Su entered the brightly lit room. He sat there, his eyes meeting hers.
“You’re still looking at this?” she asked, noticing the ledger.
“Mmm.”
“Did you find anything?” she asked, sitting down beside him.
“Most of Du San Cai’s money went here…” Xu He Xue’s long finger pointed to an entry in the ledger. Ni Su leaned closer, a strand of her hair brushing against his hand, making his fingers curl. He paused.
“Manyu Bank,” Ni Su read the name aloud.
“Mmm,” Xu He Xue said, withdrawing his hand.
“Should we go to Manyu Bank?” Ni Su asked, resting her chin on her hand.
“No need. I want to give this ledger to someone,” Xu He Xue said, looking at her.
“Who?” Ni Su looked up at him.
“Chief Censor Jiang Xian Ming.”
After careful consideration, Xu He Xue had decided that although the ledger recorded most of Du San Cai’s financial transactions, it contained few names, mostly using aliases. He had been dead for too long and couldn’t identify them. But Jiang Xian Ming would be able to unravel Du San Cai’s shady dealings.
“How can you be sure he’ll investigate?”
“He will,” Xu He Xue said, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
Why had Du San Cai escaped punishment for dereliction of duty? And why had he been sending money to these unnamed individuals for fifteen years? If Jiang Xian Ming investigated, he would find the answers.
“Then let’s go now,” Ni Su said, standing up abruptly.
Xu He Xue looked up, meeting her gaze.
It was a dark, windy night, a perfect time. Ni Su wrapped a cloak around herself, held onto Xu He Xue’s waist, and, for the first time, truly saw the night sky of Yun Jing.
Even without using his powers, his exceptional lightness allowed him to evade the Yin Ye Si officers, carrying her silently across the rooftops.
The wind blew his soft hair against her face, his embrace cold as ice. Ni Su looked up at his chin, not daring to look down.
A large locust tree in Jiang Xian Ming’s courtyard provided cover as they landed on the roof.
Jiang Xian Ming had been sitting in his study for a long time. His steward had brought him tea several times, cautiously suggesting, “Master, it’s late. You should rest.”
“I haven’t finished writing the memorial. How can I rest?” Jiang Xian Ming sighed, scratching his head with his hairpin.
“Master, you usually write effortlessly. Why are you struggling this time?” the steward asked, puzzled.
“It’s not that I’m struggling. It’s that many officials in the court have been bribed by Grand Mentor Wu. The Emperor asked them to discuss the punishment, and they’re suggesting leniency. How can this be allowed? I must write a strong memorial to prevent the Emperor from being misled.”
Jiang Xian Ming’s face darkened as he recalled the events during the court session.
His back ached. He took a sip of tea and stood up, deciding to take a break outside.
As the study door opened, Ni Su, on the roof, saw him. She tugged at Xu He Xue’s sleeve. “He’s coming out.”
Two figures emerged from the study, one slightly hunched, the other standing straight, stretching his back under the eaves. Ni Su easily identified Jiang Xian Ming.
“You can’t see clearly. I’ll do it,” she said, taking the ledger from Xu He Xue. Seeing Jiang Xian Ming standing still, she threw the ledger with all her might.
Xu He Xue, holding the lantern, couldn’t see clearly. He heard Ni Su gasp and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“…I hit Chief Censor Jiang on the head,” she said sheepishly.
“Who’s there! Help! Help!” The steward’s voice rang out. Ni Su saw Jiang Xian Ming bend down and pick up the ledger. “Let’s go!” she urged Xu He Xue.
The guards in the courtyard couldn’t see Xu He Xue’s lantern or the figures on the roof. He wrapped his arm around Ni Su’s waist and, using the tree trunk for leverage, leaped into the air.
They landed silently in a back alley. Hearing Ni Su sneeze, Xu He Xue took off his cloak and draped it over her.
The heavy cloak, having been burned as a winter offering, wasn’t very warm, but Ni Su clutched it close, her gaze falling on the embroidered characters “Zi Ling” on the cuff. She looked up, their eyes meeting briefly.
They both quickly looked away.
The faint, shimmering dust around Xu He Xue made him seem ethereal, as if a strong gust of wind could make him vanish like mist.
But Ni Su wanted him to be more real, more solid.
Leaving the alley, she looked around. The many autumn rains had brought a chill to the air. The steam rising from the food stalls was more visible now, and she smelled something sweet.
Xu He Xue followed her as she walked towards a stall selling fried rice cakes.
He watched as she spoke to the vendor.
He didn’t pay attention to her words, only noticing how the light from the green gauze lantern illuminated her eyes and eyebrows.
He suddenly realized that his silent observation was a form of intrusion.
He quickly looked away, then heard her ask, “Can I buy a lantern from you?”
“Of course,” the vendor said, seeing she wasn’t carrying one.
Ni Su took the bag of fried rice cakes and the lantern and walked to a deserted alley, where she crouched down and took out a flint and steel.
“I’ve always carried this since I met you,” she said, handing him the rice cakes. “Hold these for me.”
Xu He Xue took the bag. The freshly fried rice cakes were still hot, even through the oil paper. He watched as she blew out the candle in the lantern, then relit it with the flint and steel.
The flickering flame illuminated her face, soft and gentle.
Ni Su stood up and extended her hand.
Xu He Xue handed her the rice cakes, then heard her say, “The lantern.”
He paused, then gave her the lantern he had been carrying.
Ni Su took it and handed him the new lantern. “This looks like it was made by the vendor himself. Don’t you think it’s pretty?”
Xu He Xue held the lantern. The light, filtered through the green gauze, shone in his eyes. His gaze slowly shifted to the ground, where he saw her shadow.
After a moment, he nodded. “It’s pretty.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Ni Su said, looking at him. His face was pale and fragile, and he rarely smiled. But she couldn’t help but wonder what his smile would look like if he were still alive.
His eyes would crinkle, even clearer and brighter than now, like glistening glass beads.
If only.
“Xu Zi Ling,” she said, walking on, the two lanterns making his form more solid.
“Mmm?” he replied, his gaze shifting from the lantern to her face.
“My brother died here, so I don’t like Yun Jing. I thought, once I get justice for him and help you find your old friend, I’ll leave and never come back.”
“What about you? Do you have more happy or sad memories of this place?” She couldn’t resist asking about his past.
“I…” Xu He Xue carefully considered his past, the fragmented memories he still retained.
He had experienced happy, carefree times here, studying with his classmates, even stealing dates from his teacher’s courtyard.
Pushing his crying friend off the roof seemed like yesterday.
But was it more happiness or regret?
“When I left, all the happy memories became regrets,” he finally said.
“But you don’t regret your decision, do you?” Ni Su asked.
Xu He Xue, under her gaze, nodded slightly. “No.”
Regret couldn’t change the past. He wouldn’t define his life by regrets, not even in his dreams, when he saw his teacher.
It wouldn’t be fair to himself, or to his teacher.
“Although I don’t know much about your past,” Ni Su said, “I think if I were you, I wouldn’t regret my decisions either.”
Just like she hadn’t regretted her own choices along this difficult path.
“My brother’s case is almost resolved. Once Wu Ji Kang is executed, I can finally bring peace to his soul,” she said, smiling at him. This was the first time she had felt truly at ease since arriving in Yun Jing. “But I’ll stay here until you find what you’re looking for. I summoned you back. I want you to have fewer regrets this time.”
Her words, “I summoned you back,” made Xu He Xue’s heart ache.
Faint music drifted from the entertainment district.
He didn’t have any personal regrets. He should have forgotten his past, and he would have, if he hadn’t returned. But the souls in the pagoda couldn’t forget their hatred and resentment.
They couldn’t let go.
So neither could he.
“Xu Zi Ling, the pipa music from the entertainment district is beautiful. When all this is over, let’s go there together,” Ni Su said.
Her voice brought him back to the present.
He walked beside her, the white light and her dark shadow intertwined, his dark blue robe momentarily mimicking her shadow.
After a while, he whispered, “Alright.”
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