The Yichun Hall was in utter chaos, filled with cries and shouts. Outside, the onlookers were just as noisy and excited.
“Talk about timing—he falls ill just as the divine doctor’s here!”
“Guess that means his luck’s turned around, hahahaha!”
“Who is it, anyway?”
“Look how many officials have shown up—must be someone important…”
Amid the buzzing crowd, a young maid of about twelve or thirteen carrying a basket listened intently. Hearing this, she couldn’t help but push her way forward.
Soldiers were already stationed outside Yichun Hall to maintain order, forbidding idle people from approaching. Seeing the young girl come forward, one of them glared and scolded her.
The girl looked a bit timid but didn’t retreat. Instead, she rose on tiptoe and peered inside. As if spotting someone she recognized, her eyes lit up.
“Hurry, go home and get it!”
A woman’s wailing came from inside the hall.
“Master, you mustn’t let anything happen to you!”
Amid her cries, two plainly dressed, inconspicuous-looking men rushed out, mounted a skinny donkey, and, looking flustered, squeezed their way through the crowd and rode off.
The young maid looked somewhat excited, her basket-laden body trembling slightly. She turned and squeezed back out of the crowd.
She broke into a jog, then ran faster and faster, drawing curious glances from passersby.
“Hey, isn’t that the maid of Lady Zhu from Desheng Pavilion?”
Two or three people on the roadside were jostled aside by the commotion. Hearing those words, they turned to look.
“What’s Desheng Pavilion?”
A young servant holding a horse asked, his eyes wide with the wonder and excitement of someone newly arrived in the capital.
Truly a country bumpkin—doesn’t even know Desheng Pavilion.
Some passersby sneered.
“That’s the most famous tavern in the capital,” they said.
“Was it opened by Lady Zhu?” the servant asked blankly.
His question drew a round of raucous laughter from the onlookers.
“You fool, Lady Zhu is the courtesan star of Desheng Pavilion!”
Amid the laughter, the servant’s face flushed bright red. The young man beside him shot him a glare.
“Enough. Hold your tongue,” he said, removing his bamboo hat and revealing his face.
“Yes, Fourth Young Master,” the servant replied. “Let’s find a place to stay first.”
Cheng Si-lang nodded and looked around.
The capital truly is splendid—far beyond ordinary.
“Let’s go. Once we’ve rested, we’ll pay a visit to Master Jiang-zhou,” he said.
And so, the young master and his two servants continued down the bustling street.
As the sun slanted lower in the sky, a carriage pulled up in front of the Zhou family’s main gate. The stable boys on horseback shouted noisily at the tightly shut doors.
“What are you yelling for!” the gatekeeper shouted back irritably. But as he opened the door and got a look outside, he froze.
“Master!”
The master had returned!
That single shout instantly stirred the Zhou household from its deathly stillness into a flurry of activity.
“Master…”
Madam Zhou, supported by her maids, came out with tears in her eyes to greet him. The family’s sons and ladies followed close behind, all of them looking both emotional and stricken with grief.
Master Zhou stepped through the gate, travel-worn and weary, his face etched with fatigue and his expression dazed.
“What… what happened?” he murmured.
“Master, don’t worry, rest first,” Madam Zhou sobbed. “We’ll find out what happened soon enough.”
After so much shock, fear, and a long, frantic journey, the master seemed nearly stupefied.
That thought alone made the whole family even more heartbroken.
“No, no, I’ve already asked around,” said Master Zhou, waving his hand.
Everyone in the room froze in surprise.
“I went straight to the magistrate when I got back, but the place was in utter chaos,” Master Zhou said, looking bewildered as he recalled what he’d seen. “I grabbed a few people and asked them who was behind this scheme against me—but instead, they all just smiled, shook their heads, and kept congratulating me.”
Congratulating him?
“They were mocking you!” Madam Zhou said, wiping her tears.
“No,” Master Zhou shook his head firmly. “Those men aren’t the type. What they meant was—this whole thing is about to be put to rest.”
The room fell silent again.
“What do you mean?” Madam Zhou asked in confusion.
“I mean, it’s over. In a few more days, everything will be sorted out,” Master Zhou said, still looking as though he were in a dream.
It’s over?
“Yes, they said no one has time to bother with me now. This morning, Secretariat Editor Liu from the Ministry of Personnel suddenly collapsed at the magistrate—everyone’s focused on that now,” Master Zhou explained. “Then they sent me off, and someone even patted me on the shoulder, saying we should have a drink together in a few days.”
A drink wasn’t just a drink—it was a signal that the matter was resolved.
Otherwise, those people would’ve kept their distance from him without hesitation.
He couldn’t help but tug at his beard.
What on earth is going on?
“Secretariat Editor Liu has always been one of the most diligent and capable officials all these years—such an honest man suddenly falling ill… perhaps the court is showing some compassion, easing up on certain cases to demonstrate leniency?” Madam Zhou suggested, then asked what illness it was.
It did seem like the most reasonable explanation, and there was precedent for it. The court often treated scholar-officials with favor—some older officials had even been granted the honor of sitting in the emperor’s presence.
“No one knows what the illness is. He was already taken away, and those who went to visit him haven’t come back yet,” Master Zhou said. Besides, he barely had time to worry about himself, let alone find out who had fallen ill and with what.
“But, ha—those people who were scheming against me really wasted their efforts,” he couldn’t help but chuckle, stroking his beard. “Turns out, a clever plan is no match for good luck.”
Just as Zhou Liu-lang stepped through the door, he heard those words. Seeing his family gathered inside—faces lit with joy and confusion—his expression grew complicated, and a faint, bitter smile touched his lips.
They were wrong. In the end, no amount of good luck could truly outmatch a well-laid scheme.
“Father,” he called, stepping forward and kneeling down. Looking up at Master Zhou and the others, he said, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Though he didn’t yet know the full truth, he was fairly certain that things hadn’t been as dire as the initial news had suggested.
Had the women and children in the household simply panicked and exaggerated? Or was it something else entirely?
Master Zhou still looked dazed, but now that half the weight on his mind had lifted, he drank a bowl of tea. Surrounded by the concerned faces of his loved ones, with the room now lit and the calm summer evening settling around them, the unease and confusion in his heart began to ease.
“Liu-lang, you’re here. Sit,” he said with a hint of a smile. “These past few days must’ve frightened you, haven’t they?”
Before Zhou Liu-lang could speak, a few of the young ladies let out soft, mocking laughs.
“Father, you worry too much—how could he possibly be scared?” they said with veiled meaning.
Still had the mood to charm a beauty, didn’t he.
“Enough of that,” Madam Zhou cut in, putting a stop to it.
No matter how you treat outsiders, family shouldn’t harbor resentment or stir up ill will among themselves.
“I have something I’d like to speak to Father and Mother about in private,” Zhou Liu-lang said.
Master Zhou and Madam Zhou exchanged a glance. A flicker of unease crossed Madam Zhou’s face as a thought occurred to her.
“Liu-lang, your father has just returned. You must learn to tell what matters are urgent and what can wait,” she said sternly.
Could it be that little wretch has been egging him on again these past few days? And now he can’t wait to bring it up?
“I understand,” Zhou Liu-lang said respectfully, bowing.
The siblings all withdrew, and servants in the room were also dismissed. Only the three of them remained.
“Father, Master Liu has fallen ill with wind-stroke,” Zhou Liu-lang said bluntly.
Wind stroke?
That was serious!
A diagnosis like that was essentially a death sentence—just a matter of time.
“Truly unfortunate… Master Liu was such a good man. How could he come down with something like that?” Madam Zhou sighed, joining her hands in prayer. “It’s the wicked ones who harmed your father who ought to suffer like this.”
Zhou Liu-lang couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Well, Mother, it seems your wish has come true this time,” he said with a faint smile.
Madam Zhou looked puzzled.
“What wish come true?” she asked.
Zhou Liu-lang looked at his parents and drew in a deep breath.
“Isn’t Mother curious how, despite being confined these past few days, I know exactly what illness Master Liu has? Even Father, who went to the magistrate, didn’t find out.”
He didn’t answer directly, but posed the question instead.
“Hmph, you were confined, but your servants acted freer than ever,” Madam Zhou snorted. As his mother, how could she not know? She’d simply chosen to turn a blind eye.
“Yes. My servants have been gathering information this whole time—specifically about Master Liu,” Zhou Liu-lang said.
Madam Zhou was about to respond, but Master Zhou, who had been quietly listening, suddenly froze slightly, as if something clicked. He raised his hand to stop her.
“You mean… it was him?” he asked.
