Chapter 61: Water Dragon Song (Part 6)
The bright light in the hall illuminated Emperor Zheng Yuan’s vermillion robes. The veins on his forehead bulged as he suppressed his fury. “What is a worthy death? Zhang Jing, are you scolding me? Am I not the Emperor you serve?!”
The hall was freezing. Liang Shen Fu and the others knelt on the floor, terrified, not daring to look up. Liang Shen Fu only dared to glance at the Emperor’s robes, his temples drenched in sweat.
“I am loyal to Your Majesty, but Your Majesty has no regard for his subjects or his people!” Zhang Jing looked at Emperor Zheng Yuan’s stormy face. “How were the thirteen northern prefectures lost? Your Majesty knows, I know, everyone in the Great Qi knows! But they dare not speak!”
“But I will speak!”
“I ask Your Majesty, have you forgotten the people of the thirteen northern prefectures? Have you forgotten that they are also your subjects? You are their Emperor, their father! What were you doing when they were slaughtered by the barbarians? You made a pact with Danqiu, ceasing war, and paying tribute!”
“Zhang Jing!”
The Emperor roared.
“A nation, however large, will perish if it is constantly at war. A world, however peaceful, will be in danger if it forgets how to fight!”
Zhang Jing kowtowed. “Your subject, Zhang Jing, would rather die than fail to advise Your Majesty. As a benevolent ruler, you must not prioritize yourself over the nation! The officials involved in the Daizhou grain supply case must be severely punished, and Your Majesty should also give an explanation to the people for the harm caused by building Taoist palaces!”
For many years, Liang Shen Fu had never heard anyone dare to speak such treasonous words in front of the Emperor. This was tantamount to accusing the Emperor of being an unbenevolent ruler.
Liang Shen Fu trembled, prostrating himself on the ground. He slowly looked up at Minister Zhang, his hair and beard white, his face filled with worry and fear. He desperately wanted to advise him not to provoke the Emperor further, but with the Emperor present, Liang Shen Fu dared not utter a word.
“The Daizhou officials embezzled grain. Did I tell them to do so?”
The Emperor’s headache flared, the pain intense. This Emperor, usually adept at controlling his emotions and manipulating power, was now being pushed to the brink of losing control by Zhang Jing. “Zhang Jing, today you’re investigating the Daizhou grain supply case. Will you be investigating Yongzhou City tomorrow?”
“If Your Majesty hadn’t indulged in extravagant construction projects, the national treasury wouldn’t be so strained for military funds. If Your Majesty hadn’t been complacent, the Great Qi wouldn’t have to pay an annual tribute of 100,000 to the Danqiu barbarians. If Your Majesty hadn’t been wary of military officials and refused to grant them real power, the Great Qi wouldn’t have failed in its two northern expeditions. Your Majesty has been wrong for twenty years, the entirety of your reign.”
“Minister Zhang…”
Liang Shen Fu was chilled to the bone. He couldn’t help but cry out, then saw Emperor Zheng Yuan’s chest heaving violently, one hand clutching his forehead, as if about to collapse. He immediately scrambled to his feet and rushed forward to support the Emperor.
“Indeed, you haven’t forgotten your good student!”
The Emperor leaned on Liang Shen Fu, gasping for breath. “Even though he betrayed his country, with irrefutable evidence, you, Zhang Jing, still want to defend him?”
Zhang Jing raised his head. “Yes.”
Emperor Zheng Yuan sneered. “Someone, drag him out!”
Miao Jing Zhen, Commander of the Palace Guard, entered with his men. Seeing the situation, he was about to kneel when he heard the Emperor’s furious, intimidating voice. “Anyone who pleads for him will share his fate!”
Miao Jing Zhen stiffened. He gripped his scabbard, standing silently as he watched Zhang Jing calmly remove his hat. Two palace guards then escorted him, leading him out of Qing He Palace.
Sunlight flooded the doorway, making Zhang Jing squint. He looked at the decorative chiwen (a mythical creature often depicted on traditional Chinese rooftops) on the eaves, his heart filled with tranquility. He smiled, stepping out of the palace, his voice ringing out, “If the world follows the Dao, I will die for the Dao. If the world abandons the Dao, I will die for my beliefs…”
As Zhang Jing was escorted out of Qing He Palace, the officials discussing matters in the Department of State Affairs heard the news. Meng Yun Xian almost fainted. Pei Zhi Yuan supported him, asking the eunuch sent by Liang Shen Fu, “Why would the Emperor sentence Minister Zhang to death? Did you hear clearly?!”
“Minister Zhang insulted His Majesty in the hall, forcing him to issue a self-incriminating edict…” The eunuch’s eyes were wet with tears. “His Majesty has sentenced him to immediate execution for disrespect, embezzling thousands of acres of fertile land, and forming factions for personal gain!”
“When did he have land?!”
Meng Yun Xian’s eyes were bloodshot. “He’s a widower who was exiled for fourteen years, with barely any money at home. When did he have land?!”
He Tong couldn’t restrain himself and ran out.
Meng Yun Xian and Pei Zhi Yuan immediately rushed to Qing He Palace, but the doors were closed. Liang Shen Fu stood outside, shaking his head with a complicated expression. “Minister Meng, Your Excellencies, His Majesty is suffering from a severe headache and has lost consciousness. He cannot see you…”
“Eunuch Liang, how is His Majesty?”
A beautiful woman in an apricot-red dress and a high, coiled hairstyle hurried over with several palace maids, her face filled with worry.
“Your Ladyship, please enter.”
Liang Shen Fu stepped aside and bowed his head.
Meng Yun Xian, Pei Zhi Yuan, and the others watched as Imperial Concubine Wu entered. The palace doors slowly closed. He Tong pushed himself off the ground, grabbed his robes, and ran down the white jade steps.
The sun was bright, almost noon.
Xu He Xue, his form like faint mist, could no longer appear before people. He desperately wanted to enter the imperial city, but as a ghost, there were places in this world he couldn’t set foot in.
He was almost losing consciousness, yet he stubbornly remained in the shade outside the imperial city. He thought of Ni Su and suddenly longed to hear her voice.
He wanted to see his teacher again.
Even if it was just a glance.
He huddled in the shadows of the tree branches, his mind muddled amidst the surrounding noise, his vision blurring in the sunlight.
“Teacher! Teacher…”
Someone stumbled out of the palace gate, sobbing and shouting.
Xu He Xue forced his eyes open. The person below, dressed in vermillion official robes, stumbled forward, while someone shouted from behind, “Scholar He!”
He Tong.
Xu He Xue immediately remembered the name.
That was his senior brother.
The officials behind him summoned their carriages. One official, wiping his sweat, said, “Is His Majesty truly going to execute Minister Zhang?”
“Disrespect and factionalism are both capital offenses…”
They didn’t notice the wind rustling the leaves in the shade beside them.
Ni Su had been searching for Xu He Xue for a long time, carrying a lamp and wandering the streets since before dawn. She kept glancing at her sleeve, but the mist, visible only to her, hadn’t returned.
“Miss Ni!”
Suddenly, someone called out to her.
Ni Su turned and recognized the young man. It was the bookstore clerk who had helped her deliver books before. He hurried out of the bookstore and approached her. “The books you requested last time, I’ve found them all!”
“What books?”
Ni Su couldn’t recall for a moment.
“Didn’t you want all the books related to Minister Meng? Have you forgotten?” The clerk said with a smile.
Reminded by him, Ni Su remembered.
She had noticed that Xu Zi Ling seemed to know Minister Meng very well, able to guess his intentions and understand his temperament. He even knew how much salt Minister Meng used.
Perhaps Meng Yun Xian was his teacher.
Ni Su had speculated as much.
That’s why she had asked this book delivery boy to find all the books related to Minister Meng for her as a gift.
If they couldn’t meet face to face, then they could meet on paper.
“Is this all of them?”
Entering the bookstore, Ni Su placed her glazed lamp, its candle burned out, on the table, watching as the clerk carried out more than a dozen scrolls.
“Not exactly…”
The clerk scratched his head and lowered his voice. “There’s one more, a collection of Minister Meng’s miscellaneous notes. We had it, but it was later banned by the authorities.”
“Why?”
“Because Minister Meng praised someone in it.”
Seeing Ni Su’s confused expression, the clerk added mysteriously, “It’s the general who betrayed his country sixteen years ago.”
Ni Su’s heart stirred. She felt like she was close to something. “Young man, is there a copied version?”
The clerk’s expression changed, but seeing Ni Su’s serious look, he hesitated. “Well, it’s not that there isn’t, but…”
“I can pay more.”
Ni Su took out several banknotes from her sleeve.
Selling a few banned books privately wasn’t uncommon. Moreover, Meng Yun Xian was now the current Prime Minister, and countless scholars, like the young woman before him, were eager to collect all of his writings.
It wasn’t the first time the clerk had daringly done such a thing. Seeing the money, he discreetly handed a book to Ni Su. “Miss, please keep this safe!”
“I will.”
Ni Su took the copied version of the miscellaneous notes and flipped through several pages in the shadows of the bookshelves, finally finding the passage the clerk had mentioned.
Ni Su had heard the name of the general who betrayed his country sixteen years ago, but Meng Yun Xian referred to him in this passage as “Zi Ling.”
Xu He Xue, courtesy name Zi Ling.
What made Meng Yun Xian’s miscellaneous notes a banned book was his praise of Xu He Xue, who had passed the imperial examination at the age of fourteen: “Brilliant as jade, firm as stone.”
Ni Su’s grip loosened, the scroll almost slipping from her hand.
“The Emperor is going to execute Minister Zhang!”
A young man suddenly rushed in, breathless.
“What?”
Several young men reading in the bookstore immediately dropped their scrolls and ran towards him. “Are you drunk?”
“Minister Zhang is such a good man, why would the Emperor execute him? Without even a trial, immediate execution?!”
“Quick! Let’s go!”
They all ran out.
Ni Su stuffed the miscellaneous notes back into the clerk’s hands, hurrying out. “Please keep this for me for now, and deliver it to my house later with the other books!”
Before the clerk could reply, she had already run out, lifting her skirt.
He looked back at the glazed lamp on the table. “Hey! Miss Ni, your lamp!”
At the execution grounds, Zhang Jing’s purple official robe had been removed, and he knelt before the guillotine.
“Minister Zhang!”
Many scholars, having heard the news, pushed past the crowd, held back by soldiers at the foot of the platform. They could only call out his name repeatedly.
Zhang Jing calmly looked at the growing crowd below, many unfamiliar faces calling out to him. A smile touched his usually stern features.
A gentle breeze blew, rustling his white beard.
“You youngsters, why are you crying?”
He raised his voice. “Everyone dies eventually. I, Zhang Jing, have lived long enough. But you are different. You are still young, your blood is still warm. Because it is warm, you should cherish yourselves and remember why you study, remember the principles taught to you by the sages. If you enter officialdom, serve both the Emperor and the people. If you educate others, you must first conduct yourself with integrity. The Great Qi ultimately relies on you young people.”
“Minister Zhang, why is the Emperor killing you, why is he killing you…”
Someone cried.
“If the Emperor wants his minister dead, his minister must die. Why ask, why answer? Such is officialdom. Those of you who wish to enter officialdom should be prepared for this.”
The presiding official behind him, his hand trembling on the table, waited with the Palace Guard. He had stalled until this quarter past noon, but no one had arrived with an imperial edict to stay the execution.
He raised his hand, feeling its immense weight.
Ni Su, following the scholars from the bookstore, arrived at the execution grounds and saw the platform. Here, she had witnessed the execution of the murderer who had taken her brother’s life. Now, she stood below, looking up at the elderly man stripped of his official robes.
She finally understood who Xu Zi Ling had been looking at on Imperial Street from Rainbow Bridge that day she first arrived in Yun Jing.
She had thought it was Meng Yun Xian, but it turned out to be Zhang Jing, now on the execution platform.
The executioner pressed Zhang Jing’s frail body onto the platform. Many people below were calling out “Minister Zhang.” He calmly glanced at the sharp blade above him and suddenly declared, “Decapitation is nothing compared to the pain of being dismembered! I, Zhang Jing, once had a best student. He passed the imperial examination at fourteen, went to the border at fourteen. Who remembers his fame from the Battle of Danyuan? Who remembers his great victory at Yinma Lake, where he killed the barbarian prince, Duo Ling, and reclaimed a thousand miles of Yan Pass? Who remembers that at only nineteen, he was granted the title of General Yu Jie, making the barbarians dare not to approach Ju Han Pass again! But the world condemned him, the Emperor betrayed him, leaving his noble spirit and pure heart to rot in the mud, unclaimed, bearing the stigma of treason for sixteen years!”
“I, too, was one of those who tore at his loyal heart, but today, I will weep for him, I will cry out for justice for him!”
He wiped the mud from Xu He Xue’s sullied name and presented it back to the world.
The crowd below was stunned.
Ni Su saw someone go to untie the rope holding the blade. She rushed forward, but was stopped by soldiers. On the platform, Zhang Jing closed his eyes, two tears silently tracing paths down his face:
“Let the world remember, and never let loyal bones pile up like mountains, and a pure heart be filled with regret!”
Xu He Xue arrived in a hurry, his form incredibly faint, his robes almost completely stained with blood. On the platform was his teacher. He flew towards him, his fingers reaching out, but he couldn’t gather any of his shimmering dust, his form becoming even more unstable.
He had exhausted his energy searching for Dong Yao.
No one could see him.
Only Ni Su saw him.
“Xu Zi Ling…”
She wanted to go to him, to stand before him.
The rope holding the blade suddenly loosened. The blade flashed. Ni Su pushed away the soldiers’ arms blocking her path. She heard Xu He Xue cry out desperately, “Teacher!”
His faint form fell, shielding Zhang Jing.
The blade passed through his translucent body, severing Zhang Jing’s neck. He looked down and saw his teacher’s head roll off the platform, his eyes closed, covered in blood.
A fierce, cold wind swept through the execution grounds.
Without warning, heavy snow began to fall from the sky.
Snowflakes brushed Ni Su’s hair. She watched as the mist-like figure on the platform suddenly shattered, her lips trembling. She saw a multitude of shimmering dust motes slowly rise.
They coalesced in mid-air, forming a ball of shimmering white, fluffy light.
Just like his shadow.
“Teacher…”
He Tong arrived just in time to witness the bloody scene on the platform. He collapsed to the ground, wailing.
The wind and snow howled.
Ni Su stood amidst the crowd, reaching out her hands, cupping the ball of shimmering white light in her palms.
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