“Feng Lin fainted?”
In the palace, the Emperor sat up in surprise, staring at the eunuch before him.
“Yes, just a short while ago,” the eunuch replied.
“How did he suddenly faint like that?” the Emperor asked. “Has an imperial doctor been called?”
“Yes, yes – they have. The imperial doctor personally escorted him back to his residence,” the eunuch said quickly. “He said it’s nothing serious, that a bit of rest will be enough.”
Only then did the Emperor exhale in relief and sit back down.
“I kept telling him to rest, but he refused,” he said, pressing his hand to his forehead. “These upright and loyal ministers – they’re so eager to wear themselves out for a good reputation, and in the end they make me look like a heartless ruler.”
“Your Majesty,” the eunuch ventured, “it seems Master Feng didn’t faint from exhaustion.”
The Emperor looked over at him.
“It seems… he was frightened,” the eunuch said after a moment’s hesitation.
Frightened?
What kind of person could possibly frighten that Ghost Judge?
“Master Feng met Master Han and Lady Cheng at the palace gate,” the eunuch said.
The Emperor froze.
No way…
Could it be her again?
Just earlier, one official had already lost control at the mere sight of that Lady Cheng – and now another one had fainted from seeing her?
What in heaven’s name was going on!
Han Chang had gone along with the imperial doctor to Feng Lin’s residence, while the eunuch who had been accompanying Feng Lin was summoned in.
“I… I’m not entirely sure what happened,” the eunuch said, kneeling. “At the time, Master Han greeted Master Feng first. Master Feng returned the greeting and was about to leave, but then he saw Lady Cheng, and said, ‘It’s you–’”
It’s you?
That phrase again?
“And then? Did he say, ‘You are Lady Cheng’ again?” the Emperor couldn’t help but ask.
The eunuch blinked, then hurriedly shook his head.
“No, no, he didn’t,” he said. “Then Lady Cheng replied, ‘It’s me.’”
“And after that?” the Emperor pressed.
“After that, Master Feng saluted and went up to speak with them. I… I stepped aside to give them privacy,” the eunuch said.
The Emperor glared at him.
Any other time you people are experts at eavesdropping – and now, at a crucial moment, you suddenly know how to ‘step aside’?
“After that, Lady Cheng left,” the eunuch said in one breath. “Master Feng and Master Han spoke for a bit – I don’t know what they said – but Master Feng suddenly became very agitated. Then Master Han pointed toward the direction Lady Cheng had gone, and Master Feng just… just fainted.”
It really was related to Lady Cheng?
The Emperor frowned. It seemed he would have to ask Han Chang himself.
“Summon Han Chang,” he said.
The eunuch quickly answered “Yes, Your Majesty,” and withdrew.
By this time, however, the news that Feng Lin had fainted right at the palace gates had already spread like wildfire – and once people learned that Lady Cheng had been present, the story became even livelier.
“Seems even ghosts are afraid of immortals,” someone quipped.
“Just one meeting, and the Ghost Judge was scared half to death!”
Though the officials and clerks in the government offices didn’t dare openly discuss matters of spirits and deities, joking about it was another story.
Soon, the entire hall – every corridor and every corner – was filled with talk of gods and ghosts.
And indeed, the whole affair was absurd enough to laugh at.
Attendant Scholar Gao, upon hearing the news, was both exasperated and amused.
“He’s worse than Secretariat Editor Liu,” he said with a flick of his sleeve. “Utterly useless – and to think I once waved the flag and fanned the flames for him.”
“What on earth did that Lady Cheng say to scare him like that?”
“Sir, according to what’s being passed around, all that was said was Master Feng asking, ‘Is it you?’ and Lady Cheng replying, ‘It’s me,’” one subordinate reported.
“How is that frightening?” Attendant Scholar Gao asked, frowning.
“As for the rest, only Han Chang – who was present – would know,” the subordinate added.
“Han Chang?” Attendant Scholar Gao frowned again. “Who’s that?”
“The magistrate of Panjiang County – the one who predicted the solar eclipse,” the subordinate explained. “He was promoted to the Taicang Fiscal Commissioner’s Office for his merits in building irrigation canals. He’s in the capital now for an audience.”
Predicted the eclipse, yet promoted for building canals – that phrasing was clever. Attendant Scholar Gao immediately understood the implication.
“He doesn’t happen to know that Lady Cheng as well, does he?” he asked.
Han Chang was such a minor figure that no one had really paid attention to him – so naturally, no one knew what exactly had happened that day.
“I will go inquire right away,” the aide said hurriedly.
“He’s of no real importance,” Attendant Scholar Gao replied. “What matters is whether that Feng Lin is still of any use or not.”
“My lord, if Feng Lin really dies, then that Lady Cheng will be finished as well,” the aide said with a grin.
Whether intentional or not, to enrage or frighten to death a sitting Imperial Censorate Deputy – and not just any official, but the very one preparing to charge her with crimes – was no small matter.
This wasn’t like secretly scheming against Secretariat Editor Liu; this time it happened in broad daylight, with cause and consequence plain for all to see.
If anyone with an agenda made use of it, the court could never tolerate her, and the common people would surely be struck with fear and horror.
“In that case,” Attendant Scholar Gao said with a cold smile, “I almost hope Feng Lin really does die.”
He exchanged a glance with his subordinate, and both burst out laughing.
Just then, a personal attendant outside the door spoke softly, “Han Chang has left Master Feng’s residence, my lord. He’s on his way to the palace to report to His Majesty.”
The subordinate quickly stifled his laughter and bowed to Attendant Scholar Gao. Attendant Scholar Gao gave a nod, watching as the man withdrew.
In the middle of winter, as dusk approached, the sky was heavy and overcast, and a biting north wind howled through the streets. Yet Han Chang still had to raise his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
What kind of mess is this, he thought again.
“Master Han, please hurry,” the eunuch ahead of him called back impatiently. “His Majesty has been waiting for quite a while.”
Han Chang quickly answered, “Yes, yes,” and hastened his steps along the Imperial Avenue. From the corner of his eye, he could feel countless curious gazes following him from both sides.
After today, he thought bitterly, his name would surely be known all across the capital and the court.
So this is how I become famous…
He shook his head with a wry smile, braced himself against the wind, and followed the eunuch through the palace gates.
Inside the Hall of Diligent Governance, the air was as warm as spring, and the palace lamps had already been lit.
“You and Master Feng are old acquaintances?” the Emperor asked.
“We met once, on the way to the capital,” Han Chang replied.
“What illness does Master Feng suffer from?” the Emperor shifted the topic.
Han Chang sighed inwardly. He wasn’t an imperial doctor; His Majesty shouldn’t be asking him about Feng Lin’s illness – so if he was asking, then it wasn’t really about the illness at all.
“Your Majesty,” Han Chang said, “Master Feng’s illness is of the heart.”
As expected…
The Emperor narrowed his eyes.
“Your Majesty,” Han Chang continued, “Master Feng and Lady Cheng are old acquaintances.”
The Emperor froze.
“Old acquaintances?” he repeated.
Han Chang nodded.
“Not only old acquaintances,” he said, “but she is also the one who once saved his life.”
“What?”
The Emperor was taken aback.
…
“…They say they were old acquaintances – and that she once did him a great service…”
“…What kind of great service?”
“…Han Chang isn’t sure. He only heard Master Feng say so himself. The details will have to wait until Your Majesty questions Master Feng directly…”
“…It seems Master Feng had been searching for his benefactor all this time, wanting to repay the debt – never expecting that the very person he’d been condemning and calling for punishment turned out to be his savior…”
“…No wonder he fainted…”
Night had fallen, dim and hazy, and the sound of the cold north wind carried the restless murmurs from outside into the room.
Lu Zheng set down the memorial in his hand, rose, and opened the door.
The moment he appeared, everyone outside fell silent.
“Censor Lu,” they greeted with bows.
“The wind is strong tonight,” Lu Zheng said coolly. “Keep watch at your posts – and remember what it means to be on duty.”
The crowd responded with hurried “Yes, sir,” and, jostling one another, quickly dispersed.
Lu Zheng did not return to his room. He stood beneath the veranda, gazing at the palace looming before him.
The Emperor, he thought, would surely not be able to sleep tonight.
But then again, the Emperor would not be the only one lying awake.
Han Chang might not know what that “great debt of gratitude” was, and neither did the murmuring crowd – but he knew. And only a day earlier, he had heard about it once again.
“And as for me, Feng Lin – being alive today means this life is no longer my own… it exists only to repay the great kindness of my benefactor.”
“And not only did she save my life, she also taught me how to speak, how to conduct myself as an official.”
“How could she possibly compare to my benefactor?”
“My benefactor was open-hearted and righteous – how could she ever be compared to some woman flaunting herself with talk of gods and spirits!”
Thinking of this, Lu Zheng shook his head with a bitter smile.
“Truly, fate toys with people,” he murmured.
…
The carriage clattered steadily along the street, the lamps on either side flickering in the wind, making the solemn Imperial Avenue of daytime seem all the darker and more desolate by night.
There were still quite a few people about – officials leaving the palace, their carriages and attendants passing by from time to time.
Han Chang lowered the carriage curtain and closed his eyes wearily.
“Father.”
The anxious call beside his ear made him jolt awake. Bright lantern light filled his vision, dazzling his eyes; he quickly shut them again. When he opened them once more, the lanterns had moved aside, and in the dim night he saw Han Yuanchao’s face – anxious and full of concern – right before him.
“I actually fell asleep,” Han Chang said, placing a hand on his son’s arm as he stepped down from the carriage.
A rush of cold wind hit him in the face, and Han Chang couldn’t help but shiver.
Han Yuanchao quickly draped his father’s cloak over his shoulders and raised an umbrella with one hand.
“Is it snowing?” Han Chang asked, tilting his head up and extending a hand.
The icy wind carried bits of sleet that struck his palm and face with a chill sting.
“It really is snowing,” he murmured to himself.
“Father, let’s go inside quickly,” Han Yuanchao urged, lowering the umbrella to shield him from the biting wind.
Coming in from the freezing outdoors, the sudden rush of warmth made Han Chang shiver once more. Han Yuanchao had already folded the umbrella and took the tea that a servant handed over, bringing it to his father. Han Chang drained it in one gulp, and only then did warmth spread through him from the inside out. He let out a long, relieved breath.
Though he was anxious, Han Yuanchao still tended carefully to his father, helping him wash up and change clothes. By the time everything was in order, the dishes had already been set out on the table.
Because he had gone to court that morning, fearing any impropriety before the Emperor, he had barely eaten. Then, after all that had happened, he’d had no chance for lunch at Feng Lin’s residence either. Leaving there, he had gone straight to the palace – and the Emperor, of course, had not kept him for dinner.
Now, at last, Han Chang realized how hungry he truly was.
But when he looked at the food, he found he had no appetite. He took a sip of wine and ate only a few small bites of the dishes before him.
“Father, what on earth happened?” Han Yuanchao finally asked.
Originally, the audience with the Emperor was supposed to be brief – fifteen minutes at most, an hour at the longest – and by everyone’s estimation, his father’s case should have been one of the short ones. Yet somehow, it had dragged on for half the day, and he had been summoned before the Emperor three separate times.
Han Chang sighed, set down his bowl and chopsticks, and looked at his son.
“Yuanchao, what happened isn’t exactly a grave matter – but it is both ridiculous and pitiful,” he said.
Ridiculous? Pitiful?
Han Yuanchao stared at his father.
“They said Master Feng, the Imperial Censorate Deputy, had an accident?” he asked.
“Master Feng’s matter and ours are one and the same,” Han Chang replied. “I was right. That Lady Cheng – she is that lady. I saw her at court today.”
Han Yuanchao froze for a moment, then understood.
“Father…” his expression grew complicated.
His father had always been deeply grateful to that lady, and when he’d first heard the maid at Tai Ping Residence say it wasn’t her, he’d felt such relief. But now –
For his father to meet her again in the palace… If not for that earlier visit to Tai Ping Residence, when he had gone to withdraw their business shares in front of her – it might have been a joyful reunion. But now, with that awkward farewell preceding it, his father’s heart must be a tangle of emotions – joy and sorrow all mixed together.
“Father, it is me who has caused you this suffering,” Han Yuanchao said, pushing aside the table and bowing deeply. “Tomorrow, I’ll go to Lady Cheng myself and beg her forgiveness.”
Hearing this, Han Chang chuckled.
“I said the very same thing to her. Do you know what she told me?” he asked.
Han Yuanchao looked up at him, hesitating, unsure how to respond.
“She said you never thought of her as a villain,” Han Chang said. “So there’s no need to apologize.”
Han Yuanchao straightened, his expression shifting, unable for a moment to find words.
She… she really understood him.
The room fell into silence. The lamp flame flickered and bloomed with a soft crackle.
“It’s not only an apology I owe her – I should also go and thank her,” Han Yuanchao finally said, lifting his head, his gaze steady and clear.
Han Chang looked at his son, a trace of helplessness and admiration flickering in his eyes.
When paths diverge, one cannot walk the same road – everyone has their own convictions and choices.
Though making those choices can be difficult, one must still make them.
“Oh, that’s right,” Han Chang suddenly recalled. “She said you once did her a great kindness. What was that about?”
“I did her a kindness?” Han Yuanchao frowned and shook his head. “I’ve never even met her. Even when we received shares from Tai Ping Residence, it was always her maid who met with me. These past few years I’ve barely left Su-zhou – aside from visiting relatives, I’ve only been to the capital… She’s from Jiang-zhou… she’s a doctor – a divine doctor – and her surname is Cheng!”
At that, he suddenly straightened in realization.
“Father, it’s her!” he exclaimed. “She’s the one who saved Aunt’s life!”
Aunt!
Han Chang froze for a moment, then suddenly came to a realization.
“So it was her – so it really was her,” he said again and again. Then he raised a hand to his forehead, shaking his head with a sigh. “Ah, ah… then she’s not only my benefactor, but your aunt’s as well! Our whole family owes her help – this, this, this…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“No, wait – that’s not right. She said you were the one who did her a kindness,” he said.
I did her a kindness?
Han Yuanchao furrowed his brow and fell into deep thought.
When had he ever met her? How could there be any favor he had done? Aunt…
“Young Master Han! Young Master Han! Why are you all treating my lady this way? Why are you all treating her like this!”
In his ears, he seemed to hear again the young maid’s sobbing voice, her tearful, desperate questions –
“Young Master Han, Young Master Han… thank you, my lord, for your help…”
A little maid had come running from the doorway, waving as she called out. As she drew closer, her face became clearer – until it blended into the face of that crying girl.
It was her!
Han Yuanchao suddenly lifted his head in realization.
“Ask his name, and the favor shall be repaid another day.”
A faint, trembling voice echoed in his ears, blurred yet distinct.
It was her!
Heavens – it was her!
Everything – everything had all begun with that one sentence!
“May I ask, my lord, your honorable name?”
“So, ‘Yuanchao’ – that is your courtesy name?”
“Your chivalry commands admiration.”
So that was why! Everything – everything made sense now!
“You deserve it, my lord.”
The girl before him had smiled faintly and bowed deeply.
So that’s how it was…
Unbelievable… utterly unbelievable…
Han Yuanchao grasped the edge of the table, his scalp prickling as a shudder ran through him.
Why – why would she do it to this extent?
