Chapter 59: Water Dragon Song (Part 4)
Ni Su’s heart stirred as she met his gaze.
She was about to speak when the rumbling of a carriage approached. She and Xu He Xue turned their heads simultaneously. It was Jiang Xian Ming’s carriage, returning unexpectedly.
Jiang Xian Ming lifted the curtain and looked at the young man and woman. “Qian Wei Yin has escaped!”
“What?”
Ni Su was stunned. She stepped closer and saw through her veil that Jiang Xian Ming was indeed alone in the carriage.
“What happened?”
Xu He Xue stared at him.
“He knew you were skilled in martial arts, so he pretended to agree to come with me. In reality, he was waiting for me to separate from you so he could escape!” Jiang Xian Ming’s expression was grave. “Young Master, he told me that after he abandoned his post and fled, he returned to Daizhou and hid under their noses. He originally wanted to persuade his former colleague, Ren Jun, to go to the capital with him, but he discovered that someone was already investigating Ren Jun.”
Someone else was investigating this matter?
Xu He Xue was taken aback, then asked, “Who?”
“He said it was a young man surnamed Dong, a student at the Imperial Academy. He didn’t know much more. Ren Jun suddenly died in office a few months ago. That young man surnamed Dong likely has Ren Jun’s confession and evidence.”
Jiang Xian Ming recalled what Qian Wei Yin had said to him in the carriage: “A mere student dares to wade into the murky waters of Daizhou. Jing Nian, can you guess who instructed him? I’m not afraid to tell you, I followed him on the way here. But I trust you more than the person above him, so when we were near Yun Jing, I found an opportunity to get away from him and came to you first. However, Jing Nian, I see that you don’t dare.”
“I suspect he might go back to find that student surnamed Dong,” Jiang Xian Ming added, addressing Xu He Xue.
“Do you have the Imperial Academy roster?” Xu He Xue asked.
“I know Judge Tian. Come on board, let’s go to his place!” Jiang Xian Ming beckoned them.
There were hundreds of students at the Imperial Academy. Twenty-one of them were surnamed Dong. Jiang Xian Ming took Xu He Xue and Ni Su to Judge Tian’s residence to look through the roster, but they couldn’t identify the specific individual.
The clue Qian Wei Yin had given was too vague.
Judge Tian, yawning and bewildered, stayed up with Jiang Xian Ming and the young couple. Seeing Jiang Xian Ming grinding ink at the desk, he asked, “Jing Nian, what are you writing now?”
“A memorial.”
Jiang Xian Ming held the brush and looked at him. “Old Tian, I’ve borrowed your ink, paper, and space. I’ll repay you later.”
“Forget it, there’s no need to repay me. Everyone knows you live frugally but are willing to spend on expensive paper, brushes, ink, and inkstones. Mine can’t compare to yours.” Judge Tian waved his hand. “But what memorial are you writing, Censor Jiang?”
Jiang Xian Ming dipped his brush in ink, looked at the blank page, and after a while, said, “I’m going to reopen an old case.”
They couldn’t identify the student surnamed Dong, and it was unclear whether Qian Wei Yin had gone looking for him. Jiang Xian Ming wasn’t sure whether the student had brought the alleged evidence back to Yun Jing. If he had safely returned, and the person above him knew the truth about the Daizhou grain supply case, would they still dare to bring it up?
Du Cong’s crimes were yet to be determined due to his disappearance. The officials implicated in the grain supply case had either been promoted or died over the past decade.
Their promotions were earned with the blood and sweat of the people. Jiang Xian Ming pondered, his mind filled with Qian Wei Yin’s parting words: “You don’t dare.”
If the student surnamed Dong didn’t dare, if the person above him didn’t dare, if he, Jiang Xian Ming, didn’t dare either, should they allow those corrupt officials to continue gnawing at the pillars of the Great Qi?
Hearing Jiang Xian Ming’s words, Ni Su turned and saw him lift his hand to write.
The person beside her hadn’t turned the page for a long time. She couldn’t see his expression under the veiled hat, but her gaze fell on the ink marks by his fingertips.
Dong Yao.
Ni Su glanced at it. His father, Dong Cheng Da, was a county official.
“Judge Tian, do you have any impression of this Dong Yao?” Xu He Xue suddenly asked.
Hearing the voice, Judge Tian turned around. There were hundreds of students at the Imperial Academy, how could he remember each one clearly? But he thought carefully about this Dong Yao. “Ah, he’s a good student, especially skilled in mathematics. He should have received an official post two years ago, but it was discovered that his biological father was a military official who had committed a crime. Dong Cheng Da is actually his maternal uncle. Before he changed his surname to Dong, his original surname was Lu. Because of this, his entry into officialdom was delayed until this year, when Minister Zhang allowed him to become a registrar in the Department of State Affairs.”
Dong Yao, originally surnamed Lu.
Even without Judge Tian explaining further, Xu He Xue remembered his father’s name—Lu Heng.
Captain of the Princess Wenduan’s residence guard.
Xu He Xue had met Lu Heng several times and knew he had a brother-in-law obsessed with mathematics. If he hadn’t seen “Dong Cheng Da” following Dong Yao’s name, Xu He Xue wouldn’t have remembered Lu Heng’s brother-in-law.
Judge Tian’s following words, “Minister Zhang,” made Xu He Xue abruptly stand up, gripping the edge of the table. “Censor Jiang, both Qian Wei Yin and Dong Yao are scholars with no martial arts skills. How is it that their journey here was so uneventful, without any assassination attempts?”
Jiang Xian Ming was stunned, then carefully considered every word Qian Wei Yin had said. He immediately understood. “Young Master, could there be something more to Ren Jun’s death?”
Ren Jun had suddenly died in office, while Dong Yao remained unharmed. Even if they were both cautious and knew how to hide, their journey couldn’t have been so peaceful.
Unless… someone deliberately let Dong Yao go.
But what was their purpose in letting Dong Yao go? Was it to draw out the person behind Dong Yao and then catch them all in one swoop?
Jiang Xian Ming felt a chill down his spine.
Ni Su saw Xu Zi Ling’s hand on the table tremble. He then grabbed a lamp and stumbled out. She quickly followed. Dawn was breaking, and a cold wind blew against her face.
The bronze bells on the eaves chimed softly.
The person who had just rushed out ahead of her was nowhere to be seen.
Ni Su looked down and discovered that there was no mist clinging to the edges of her sleeves. Panic seized her. Ignoring Jiang Xian Ming’s calls from behind, she lifted her skirt and ran towards the gate.
As dawn broke, He Tong, a Hanlin scholar, came to escort his teacher to the palace as usual. He was greeted by the old steward in the courtyard and saw Zhang Jing dressed in neat purple official robes. He immediately stepped forward to help his teacher put on his hat.
“What’s wrong with the old steward?”
He Tong turned and noticed the reddened eyes of Liu Jia Rong, Zhang Jing’s longtime steward, and was puzzled.
“He stayed up with me all night. Look at him, his eyes are red from exhaustion.”
Zhang Jing glanced at the old steward, his tone indifferent.
The old steward’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he lowered his head. “Yes, I’m old and useless now.”
He Tong didn’t think much of it and was about to invite his teacher to leave when he noticed a figure kneeling in the shadows at the end of the covered porch. He was startled. “Teacher, he…”
“Don’t kneel, get up,” Zhang Jing said to the figure without hesitation.
He Tong saw the man rise and step out of the shadows. He was a middle-aged man, but He Tong didn’t recognize him.
“This is Qian Wei Yin. I need to take him to the palace today,” Zhang Jing said, smoothing his sleeves.
“But, Minister Zhang, we still don’t know where Dong Yao is…”
Qian Wei Yin’s face was filled with worry.
Hearing this, Zhang Jing looked at him. “Whether he comes or not isn’t important. Your arrival is a pleasant surprise.”
“Teacher, why are you taking him to the palace?”
He Tong couldn’t understand what they were talking about.
Zhang Jing didn’t answer. He simply looked his student over, at his vermillion official robes and properly worn hat. “I have some poetry drafts. Come tomorrow and help me organize them.”
“I understand,” He Tong nodded.
On the road from Zhang’s residence to the imperial palace, He Tong was accustomed to his teacher’s silence, but he couldn’t help but glance at Qian Wei Yin sitting opposite him.
He recognized the clothes Qian Wei Yin was wearing. They were clearly his teacher’s.
He couldn’t fathom why his teacher was taking this man to the palace. He felt a sense of unease, especially when the carriage stopped at the palace gate. He saw Qian Wei Yin get out, kneel down, and shout, “Your guilty subject, Qian Wei Yin, presents his confession! I request an audience with the Emperor!”
He had probably never shouted so desperately before, the veins in his neck bulging.
“Teacher, what is he…”
He Tong turned around and saw Zhang Jing’s calm expression. “Don’t mind him, let’s enter the palace.”
He Tong never disobeyed his teacher. He helped Zhang Jing out of the carriage, bypassing Qian Wei Yin. As they were about to enter the imperial city, he heard a commotion behind him. He turned to see Qian Wei Yin being restrained by several imperial guards, who were escorting him towards the palace gate.
“Teacher, aren’t you going to the Department of State Affairs?”
There was no court meeting today. Zhang Jing should be going to the Department of State Affairs, but He Tong saw that he wasn’t headed in that direction.
Zhang Jing shook his head. “I need to see Prince Jia first. You don’t need to come. Go to the Department of State Affairs first. I’ll be back shortly.”
He Tong stopped, the unease in his heart intensifying, yet he was also confused, unsure why he felt so anxious. Seeing Zhang Jing limping forward with his cane, he couldn’t help but call out, “Teacher…”
Zhang Jing stopped and looked back at him.
Within the imperial city, the sky seemed to brighten, the morning mist thin, lingering amidst the green tiles and red walls. Zhang Jing leaned on his cane with both hands. “He Tong, you must do a good job organizing those poetry drafts, understand?”
“I understand.”
He Tong replied, “I’ve waited fifteen years to do these things for you again, Teacher.”
These words brought tears to Zhang Jing’s eyes. He nodded, a smile appearing on his usually stern face. “You’ve always been my best student. But I want to ask you, do you hate someone in your heart?”
He Tong was startled, then lowered his head. “Teacher, if he hadn’t implicated you with his treason, you wouldn’t have suffered exile, and my mother and brother wouldn’t have…”
He choked back a sob.
“I knew you hated him. I read the article you wrote denouncing him. It was the only thing about him that the Emperor allowed to circulate.”
Zhang Jing walked back to him. The faint sunlight reflecting off the green tiles made him squint slightly.
“Teacher… why are you mentioning him?”
The unease in He Tong’s heart grew stronger.
“Alright, you can go.”
Zhang Jing’s voice was calm. The morning wind billowed his sleeves. He didn’t look at He Tong again, turning and walking away, step by step, with his cane.
Inside Zhong Ming Palace, Prince Jia and his wife were packing. Emperor Zheng Yuan was still furious. Yesterday, when he heard Prince Jia request to leave the palace and return to Tongzhou, he didn’t even grant him an audience, only sending the Chief Eunuch, Liang Shen Fu, to convey his approval.
“Xi Zhen, there’s nothing much to pack. Let’s just go back.” Prince Jia was eager to leave, pacing back and forth in the hall.
“Your Highness doesn’t, but I do.”
Princess Jia, Li Xi Zhen, was personally packing her clothes and jewelry, her movements unhurried.
“Since spring has arrived, it’s time for you to get new clothes.” Prince Jia’s spirits were higher than they had been since his return to the capital. He walked over to Li Xi Zhen’s side, chattering. “When we get back, I’ll…”
Li Xi Zhen paused in her packing, looked up at him, and was about to speak when a eunuch announced outside, “Your Highness, Minister Zhang requests an audience.”
At the mention of “Minister Zhang,” Prince Jia’s eyes widened in surprise. Without a second thought, he rushed to the door and opened it himself.
Morning light streamed in, illuminating the elderly man outside, his face lined with age, his hair white. Though he leaned on a cane, his purple official robes were neatly worn, as stern and proud as Prince Jia remembered.
Yet, he was much older than he had been more than ten years ago.
Prince Jia’s eyes reddened, tears welling up. He choked out, “Teacher…”
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