Chapter 55: Treading on Grass (Part 6)
“It’s you…” Jiang Xian Ming immediately recognized the voice of the person who had given him the ledger.
“What do you mean?” he asked, struggling to stand up, his hand on the wet ground. “When did I lie to you?”
“You said you followed Hu Li, the Manyu Bank manager, into the entertainment district on the Lantern Festival.”
“That’s correct,” Jiang Xian Ming nodded.
“And then?”
“There were too many people. I lost him,” he said, rainwater dripping from his hat.
“When did you enter the entertainment district?” Xu He Xue asked.
“Around the hour of the dog (7-9 pm),” Jiang Xian Ming replied, staring at the mysterious young man. “I’m telling you this because you saved me. You shouldn’t pry any further.”
“That’s enough,” Xu He Xue said, pressing his sword against Jiang Xian Ming’s chest. “You entered at the hour of the dog and left at the hour of the pig (9-11 pm). What were you doing during that time? Looking for Hu Li? If so, why didn’t you go upstairs? I was there too, and I didn’t see you.”
Jiang Xian Ming’s expression changed slightly. “Who are you? What do you want?”
Xu He Xue hadn’t actually seen Jiang Xian Ming at the entertainment district. It was Ni Su who had seen him while hiding Grand Commandant Miao.
His words were a bluff, but they elicited a reaction from Jiang Xian Ming.
Rainwater dripped from his sword. “Don’t worry. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have given you the ledger. I just want to know if I should have saved you tonight,” Xu He Xue said, his voice cold, his face hidden beneath the veiled hat.
“I’m still investigating Du Cong’s case. You gave me the ledger because you trust me to handle it,” Jiang Xian Ming said, looking at the wet veiled hat, unable to see the face beneath. “You’re clearly invested in this. You must have a grudge against Du Cong or someone above him.”
“Chief Censor, I want to know if you have Hu Li’s secret ledger,” Xu He Xue said calmly.
“What secret ledger?” Jiang Xian Ming asked, still composed.
Xu He Xue didn’t reply, only wiping the blood from his sword on Jiang Xian Ming’s crimson robe. The blood didn’t stain the fabric. “We both wear these robes. Some are clean, some are dirty. Which kind are you, Chief Censor?”
“I’ll ask you again. Do you have Hu Li’s secret ledger?”
“You’re a stranger. Why should I trust you?” Jiang Xian Ming asked, his gaze fixed on the sword.
“Chief Censor, please trust him,” a clear female voice called out from the alley entrance.
They both turned and saw a woman in a veiled hat, holding a glazed porcelain lantern, walking towards them, holding an umbrella, raindrops scattering like beads.
“You…” Xu He Xue shook his head at her, wanting her to turn back, to disappear into the shadows.
But she walked towards him resolutely and took his arm, supporting his weakened body.
“And who are you?” Jiang Xian Ming asked, looking at the veiled woman.
“Chief Censor, why are you so concerned about our names? You’re known throughout Yun Jing for your integrity. Everyone knows how you risked your life, volunteering to serve as the governor of Yongzhou during the war with the barbarians,” Ni Su said, bowing her head slightly. “We seek justice. The key to our grievance lies with Du Cong and those above him. We trusted you, so we gave you the ledger. If it weren’t for your investigation of the ‘Galloping Horse’ statue, you wouldn’t have been attacked tonight. This case is too complex for you to handle alone. Since we have a common goal, why not work together?”
“What kind of justice do you seek?” Jiang Xian Ming asked, staring at her.
Ni Su thought for a moment. “The kind that leaves this man beside me covered in wounds, unable to see his teacher and friends, unable to enjoy his youth, unable to avenge his past grievances… is that a sufficient answer?”
The bloodstains on Xu He Xue’s robe had stained the gauze of his veiled hat. He looked at her, his fingers clenching as she held his arm. He heard the rain and felt the phantom pain of his torture, his broken body, the blood and filth.
“Is that… truly the case?” Jiang Xian Ming looked at Xu He Xue, scrutinizing him, but his face was hidden.
His gaze fell on the red mole on his hand.
It looked familiar.
Xu He Xue, snapping out of his trance, his voice slightly hoarse, said, “Chief Censor, you haven’t reported this to the Emperor yet. Is it because the names in the secret ledger are also missing?”
His words struck a chord with Jiang Xian Ming, who paused, realizing he couldn’t deny having the ledger any longer. This stranger’s insight was unsettling.
He looked at the two figures before him, illuminated by their lanterns. He wiped the rain from his face. “Although the names are missing, I’ve identified most of them. Their names, their positions. But that’s not enough. Except for Wu Dai, there’s no trace of those above Du Cong.”
He sighed. “I haven’t reported it because I want to investigate further.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, may I see the secret ledger?” Xu He Xue asked. Seeing Jiang Xian Ming hesitate, he lowered his sword, the tip now resting on his robe. “Of course, you can refuse.”
Jiang Xian Ming reluctantly took the ledger from his robe.
“I did see Hu Li at the entertainment district that night. He was meeting someone in a private room. I was watching from outside when he suddenly rushed out, injured. He found me in the crowd and gave me this ledger. I suspect that with Du Cong’s disappearance, someone wanted to destroy the evidence,” Jiang Xian Ming finally confessed, looking at the young man examining the ledger under the woman’s umbrella. He noticed the bloodstains on his sleeve and a glimpse of a wound on his wrist. Remembering the woman’s words, he said, “If you’ve been wronged, Young Master, I, Jiang Xian Ming, will clear your name.”
Xu He Xue paused in his reading, his voice calm. “Thank you,” he said, without looking up.
The alley wasn’t far from Jiang’s residence. After showing Xu He Xue the ledger, Jiang Xian Ming saw his steward approaching with a group of servants, looking for him. He quickly tucked the ledger back into his robe and let his steward escort him home.
Ni Su supported Xu He Xue as they walked, his pace slow, forcing her to slow down as well. Sensing his difficulty, she wrapped her arms around his waist.
Her embrace pressed against his wounds, making him wince. He lowered his eyes, seeing her pale face, raindrops clinging to her skin, now that she had removed her veiled hat. “Ni Su, don’t…” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Don’t hold me like this.
Ni Su was about to speak when his form suddenly faded, turning into white mist, clinging to her sleeve.
She was alone again.
The two lanterns clinked softly in her hand, their flames flickering, elongating her shadow.
But the faint, white light remained beside her, a fragile presence, as if it could dissipate at any moment.
Ni Su walked on silently, the white light accompanying her shadow.
The spring rain fell steadily. There was no moon tonight. Several lamps burned inside the clinic on Nan Huai Street, their warm light contained within the courtyard walls. Ni Su boiled willow water, entered the room, its many candles flickering, and placed the basin on a stool beside the bed.
The sound of her wringing the cloth startled the figure on the bed. He opened his eyes, his long eyelashes fluttering.
Ni Su took his hand, and he instinctively tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip, his clear eyes meeting hers.
“Are you blaming me?” she asked, gently wiping the bloodstains from his fingers with the warm cloth.
“No,” Xu He Xue’s voice was hoarse and weak, his form faint as mist. “But Ni Su, we agreed you would wait for me at the alley entrance.”
“Mmm, I did,” she nodded, looking at his hand in the candlelight, its long, slender fingers elegant and graceful. “But I saw you standing there alone, and I thought… I should be by your side.”
“I forgot to listen to you. I’m sorry, Xu Zi Ling,” she said sincerely.
Xu He Xue felt the warmth of the cloth around his fingers, her gentle touch making his heart ache. He looked at her. “Why?”
Why had she come to him, why had she spoken to Jiang Xian Ming?
The execution platform in Yongzhou had destroyed his past. His life in Yun Jing, his teacher’s guidance, his brother and sister-in-law’s love, his carefree youth, the brush he had held, the poems and essays he had written—all turned to dust. People only remembered his disgrace, his betrayal.
He should be alone.
But she had come to him, making them “we.”
“You were there for me when I sought justice, when I was tortured. Whether it’s the people of this world or a ghost from Youdu, I think… we all hate being alone,” Ni Su said, her eyes welling up, unable to touch the gruesome wound on his arm. “Xu Zi Ling, your wounds… they pain me, but I can’t do anything to ease your pain…”
“You can,” Xu He Xue whispered.
“What?” Ni Su looked up.
Xu He Xue’s pale lips pressed together. He had spoken without thinking, and he couldn’t bring himself to say more. “Ni Su,” he said.
“Mmm?” she replied, rinsing the cloth and gently wiping his face.
He was about to speak, but her touch silenced him. He sat there, stiff and dazed, as she cleaned his face.
She was so close.
He saw her eyes were slightly red.
“What were you going to say?” she asked, her hand still gently wiping his face.
Xu He Xue, like a puppet under her control, let her touch him, her fingers tracing his nose, their fingertips brushing against his skin.
The slight tickle made his heart ache.
He took her wrist gently.
“There’s a scab here,” she whispered, “let me clean it.”
Her heart wasn’t calm.
Looking at his hand, his eyes, his face, made her hold her breath.
The rain fell softly outside. Xu He Xue felt cleansed by her touch, almost human again, not a formless, bloody mist.
“Ni Su, is there anything you want? I want to give you something,” he said.
Anything at all.
To thank her for her kindness, her beauty, for standing by his side, for caring about his pain.
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