Chapter 37: Crows Cry at Night (Part 6)
After the Mid-Autumn Festival, the conflict between the Hanlin Academy and the Censorate intensified. Ni Qinglan’s name was mentioned repeatedly as the officials argued fiercely.
The Censorate argued that Wu Ji Kang, the Emperor’s brother-in-law, was guilty of manslaughter. Ni Qinglan had ultimately starved to death due to soul loss, unable to eat, therefore Wu Ji Kang shouldn’t be executed.
The Hanlin Academy argued that Wu Ji Kang had bribed Du Cong to cheat, imprisoned and tortured Ni Qinglan, causing his soul loss and subsequent death, and therefore deserved the death penalty.
The Emperor, still claiming illness, didn’t attend court sessions, and their memorials went unanswered.
This emboldened the Censorate.
“Ni Qinglan’s case is causing a stir. It’s the talk of the town. I went to a teahouse, and the storyteller recounted the details vividly, even how Wu Ji Kang planned the scheme and tortured Ni Qinglan. Many scholars were cursing him openly in the streets…” Pei Zhi Yuan said, peeling peanuts.
“I heard many students went to the Guangning Prefecture Yamen yesterday, demanding justice for Ni Qinglan, especially those from less privileged families. They’re furious,” another official said.
“You said ‘less privileged families.’ Which scholar, besides those from official families, wouldn’t be outraged? If the Emperor doesn’t punish Wu Ji Kang, they won’t give up,” another official sighed.
Those young men without powerful backgrounds feared becoming the next Ni Qinglan. A single act of malice from an influential figure could ruin their years of hard work, even cost them their lives.
This case resonated deeply with the passionate young scholars.
“We should focus on the new policies and not get involved in the fight between the Censorate and the Hanlin Academy…” someone whispered before Scholar He Tong arrived.
As Ministers Zhang and Meng entered, the officials stood up and bowed.
“Let’s proceed with the discussion,” Meng Yun Xian said, waving his hand dismissively and sitting down. He seemed to have ignored their earlier conversation and immediately began discussing official matters with Zhang Jing.
Although the Emperor was still ill, the Hall of State Affairs’ proposals still needed to be submitted. The officials, no longer daring to chat idly, focused on their work.
As darkness fell, Meng Yun Xian returned home and, hearing that a guest had arrived, went directly to his study without changing his clothes.
“Is the Yin Ye Si responsible for spreading Ni Qinglan’s case throughout Yun Jing?” he asked, after the servant who had brought tea left.
“It was Ni Qinglan’s sister, Ni Su. But I also helped by having Zhou Ting leak Jia Yan’s testimony. This gave the storytellers more material,” Han Qing replied.
If it weren’t for his intervention, the details of Wu Ji Kang’s crime wouldn’t be public knowledge.
“That young woman…” Meng Yun Xian paused, holding his teacup. “She has spirit.” His tone was filled with admiration.
“Does she intend to appeal to the Dengwen Drum Court?” he suddenly realized.
“Why else would she spend so much money publicizing the case? I believe she’s determined to go,” Han Qing said, a complex expression crossing his face.
“The Dengwen Drum Court’s punishment… can a frail woman like her endure it?” Meng Yun Xian asked, taking a sip of tea. “But her actions are beneficial to our plans.”
“The Emperor cares about public opinion, especially with the upcoming Mount Tai ceremony. If Ni Qinglan’s case reaches the Dengwen Drum Court, he can’t ignore it. He’ll have to make a decision.”
But what decision? All eyes were on this case, especially the commoner scholars who saw themselves in Ni Qinglan. If the Emperor continued to protect Wu Ji Kang, the consequences could be severe.
Ni Su was forcing the Emperor’s hand.
Meng Yun Xian sighed. “Han Qing, she reminds me of you.”
“If I could have appealed to the Dengwen Drum Court back then, I would have,” Han Qing said with a smile.
He had been a powerless eunuch in the palace, with no right to appeal.
He had been fortunate to find Meng Yun Xian, who had saved his sister’s life.
Meng Yun Xian pondered for a moment. “Once she appeals, the Emperor will summon me.”
***
The Double Ninth Festival.
Ni Su woke up early and lit incense and candles at the altar. She saw the sprig of dogwood berries Cai Chun Xu had sent, its crimson berries vibrant against the white vase. She broke off a piece and tucked it into her hair.
“Does it look good?” she asked, turning to the figure on the porch.
Xu He Xue looked at her. She was dressed in white mourning clothes, her hair styled in a simple triple bun, adorned only with the sprig of dogwood berries, the crimson against the white stark and striking.
“Mmm,” he nodded.
Ni Su smiled slightly. Her face was pale and thin. She broke off another piece of dogwood and, holding his sash, tucked it in. “You’re accompanying me to climb a very high mountain today. You must wear this.”
The high mountain was the Dengwen Drum Court.
“Ni Su…” Xu He Xue said, his gaze falling on her fingers holding his white sash.
“Listen to me,” she interrupted. “Don’t help me today. Don’t let anyone see you.”
She finished arranging the dogwood berries, her gaze moving from the crimson berries to his white robe, then to his face.
Xu He Xue’s lips pressed together, his fingers curling inside his sleeve.
“Will you take care of me after I’m beaten?” she asked lightly. “If you don’t, I’ll be in trouble.”
“I will,” he said.
“Mmm,” Ni Su smiled. “Thank you.”
The Dengwen Drum was outside the imperial city. Ni Su walked from Nan Huai Street, the morning mist dissipating, the sunlight growing stronger.
The streets were crowded. She saw the guards in their armor, standing solemnly before the imperial city gates.
Attendants stood by the Dengwen Drum.
No one noticed Ni Su until she reached the drum and looked up at it.
The sunlight was bright, almost blinding. The attendants, seeing her approach, began to whisper.
“What is she doing?”
“Is she going to strike the drum? No one has dared to do that for years…”
“Isn’t she afraid of the punishment?”
As they were speaking, the young woman picked up a drumstick. They watched as she raised it high and struck the drum with all her might.
The sound echoed, the drumhead vibrating.
Passersby, startled by the sound, gathered before the drum. The drumming continued, each beat growing more urgent.
“Quickly, inform the Drum Supervisor!” one of the attendants said, pushing his companion.
The Drum Supervisor was a palace eunuch. The news was relayed to the palace, then to the Dengwen Drum Court, causing a delay. But the drumming continued.
Ni Su’s forehead was damp with sweat, her wrist aching, but she held the drumstick firmly until the gates of the Dengwen Drum Court opened.
“Who is striking the drum?” the Drum Supervisor shouted.
Ni Su, her hair plastered to her temples, turned around, knelt down, raised the drumstick, and said clearly, “I, Ni Su, seek justice for my brother, Ni Qinglan!”
The name “Ni Qinglan” caused a stir in the crowd.
“Is that the scholar who was murdered by Young Master Wu?”
“I heard he was tortured and starved to death…”
“Such a tragedy!”
The Drum Supervisor wiped the sweat from his forehead and called to the attendants. “The Judge has arrived. Bring her inside!”
“Yes, sir!” they replied.
Since the implementation of the mandatory beating for petitioners, the Dengwen Drum Court had been quiet. Judge Tan also held a position in the Censorate and had been arguing with the Hanlin Academy scholars in the palace. He had thought he’d misheard the drum, until the Drum Supervisor summoned him.
Sitting in the main hall, Judge Tan, unaccustomed to the large crowd gathered outside, adjusted his hat, wiped his sweat with his sleeve, and looked at the young woman kneeling before him. “Who are you? And why are you here?”
“I, Ni Su, accuse Wu Ji Kang, son of Grand Mentor Wu Dai, of murdering my brother,” Ni Su said, kowtowing.
Judge Tan’s expression changed. He hadn’t expected to be involved in Ni Qinglan’s case. He looked at the young woman intently. “Do you know that petitioners must be beaten before their case is heard?”
“I do. I’m willing to endure any punishment to seek justice for my brother!”
Judge Tan narrowed his eyes, assuming she was ignorant of the severity of the punishment. He gestured to the court officers. “Bring it forth.”
The officers brought a dusty torture bench, quickly wiped it with a sleeve, and forced Ni Su onto it.
Ni Su’s cheek pressed against the cold surface. Judge Tan’s voice boomed, “Ni Su, I ask you again, do you wish to file a complaint against the imperial court?”
“I do,” she replied.
“Very well,” Judge Tan nodded to the officer holding the bamboo staff. “Proceed with the punishment!”
The officer, showing no mercy, raised the staff and brought it down hard.
The pain made Ni Su cry out. Tears welled up in her eyes, her body trembling. This was far worse than the Guangning Prefecture Yamen’s “welcome beating.”
The officer continued the beating. The crowd outside could hear the sickening thuds. Cai Chun Xu, helped out of her carriage by Miao Yi Yang, heard the screams and almost collapsed.
She rushed to the door, pushing past the crowd, and saw Ni Su strapped to the torture bench, her white dress stained with blood.
“Sister A-Xi…” she whispered, her eyes welling up.
“Ni Su, I ask you again, do you still wish to file a complaint?” Judge Tan said, signaling the officer to stop.
“Yes,” Ni Su’s lips trembled.
Judge Tan was surprised that the beating hadn’t deterred her. Remembering the conflict between the Censorate and the Hanlin Academy, his expression darkened. He waved his hand.
The officers resumed the beating.
Ni Su’s fingers clenched the edge of the bench, her knuckles white. She bit her lip, tears streaming down her face, unable to suppress her cries.
This wasn’t the first time Xu He Xue had seen her being tortured, but this time, the pain in his heart was unbearable. He couldn’t bear to see her tears. As the staff struck her again, he clenched his fists and closed his eyes.
“Ni Su, tell me, what do you seek?” Judge Tan asked coldly.
What did she seek?
The beating continued. Ni Su’s mind was clouded with pain. “What do I seek?” she murmured.
Another blow landed, and she cried out, gasping for breath. “I want the murderer to die! I want him to pay with his life for my brother’s death! I want him to pay!”
Why?
Why was her brother’s life worth less than his? Why could the murderer walk free?
“Your Honor, if I can’t get justice for my brother, I’m not afraid to die!”
“Stop the beating!” Cai Chun Xu cried, restrained by the officers at the door, watching helplessly as the beating continued. “Your Honor! Stop!”
But the officers ignored her.
Xu He Xue saw the dogwood berries fall from Ni Su’s hair. She was covered in blood, and the beating continued relentlessly.
His jaw tightened. He couldn’t endure it any longer. He reached out, his fingers intertwined, and silvery, mist-like dust enveloped her.
The staff continued to fall, but Ni Su felt nothing.
She looked up, tears blurring her vision, and saw him, shimmering dust swirling around him, blood dripping from his sleeves.
She saw the wounds on his wrists reopen, his robe stained crimson. More wounds must be appearing beneath his clothes.
His face was even paler now.
Ni Su’s cheek pressed against the bench, her voice barely a whisper, audible only to herself. “Xu Zi Ling, please… don’t… It’s alright… I don’t want you to suffer…”
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