The dead silence in the Hall of Diligent Governance did not last long – or perhaps it only seemed so to the ministers’ uneasy hearts.
“Master Feng.”
The girl’s voice sounded again.
This time it was calm and gentle, the kind of tone that told at once she was only seventeen or eighteen.
“You are the Imperial Censorate Deputy, a pillar of the state. How could you possibly be compared with a mere young lady like me?”
Only, the words that came from this seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl’s mouth
were seasoned, sharp – and venomous.
At first hearing, the phrasing felt wrong.
Ordinarily, one would say, ‘How could a little woman like me be compared with you, my lord? You truly flatter me.’
But she had said it the other way around – and that was no slip of the tongue. She meant exactly what the reversal implied.
Master Feng, what are you doing, taking offense at a mere girl?
Master Feng, can you truly measure up to a mere girl like me?
Master Feng, you can’t even match a girl like me.
Master Feng – how thoroughly you’ve humiliated yourself.
“In those days, Zhang Jiangzhou scolded an old scholar to death – is this Jiangzhou lady now going to shame a court official to death as well?”
Several officials in the adjoining hall whispered to themselves, some even losing their composure and tiptoeing to peer through the gaps between the screens.
Sure enough, they saw Feng Lin’s figure trembling uncontrollably – yet he quickly forced himself upright again.
“Your Majesty, my heart is loyal, lest traitors and deceivers cloud Your Majesty’s divine wisdom…” he said, his face deathly pale but his back held straight.
At this point, the original plan had already fallen apart.
A man must follow the shifting current – what’s lost should be forgotten; what matters is seizing whatever advantage remains.
If the beaten dog cannot be saved, then one must join in kicking it.
And the advantage now, of course, was to align himself with the Emperor’s will – to say aloud what the Emperor could not say, to voice what the Emperor wished to be voiced.
With that thought flashing through his mind, Attendant Scholar Gao no longer hesitated. He raised his tablet and strode forward.
“Feng Lin! You feign integrity to curry a name for righteousness – what punishment do you deserve for such deceit?” he thundered.
The Emperor, whose face had gone ashen on the throne, seemed to exhale at those words and straightened in his seat.
As soon as Attendant Scholar Gao stepped forward, the other officials were unwilling to be left behind – they, too, came forward one after another.
Feng Lin’s face grew even paler, yet he still held his back ramrod straight, gripping his tablet tightly in both hands.
“Your Majesty, I am innocent,” he said, enunciating each word. “I beg Your Majesty to see clearly!”
“Feng Lin, are you implying that His Majesty is a muddle-headed ruler – unable to distinguish right from wrong, unjust in his rewards and punishments?” Attendant Scholar Gao barked, his brows drawn tight.
Feng Lin lifted his head and looked up at the emperor upon the throne, raising his tablet.
“If Your Majesty refuses to heed my counsel,” he declared, “and instead listens to smooth-tongued, unprincipled flatterers, then surely Your Majesty will be deceived – and unable to tell right from wrong.”
At that, the Emperor on the throne could hold back no longer.
“Feng Lin! You still dare to prattle on?” he thundered, his brows drawn in fury. “The Divine Arm Bow has rendered great service – do you not see it? So many men devote themselves to the nation, offering wondrous weapons of war – do you not see that either? And yet, you see only treachery and deceit! With so many ministers in this court, are you saying all of them are blind? You speak of loyalty to the state and to your sovereign – but by that one phrase, would you have Us condemn merit as guilt, and regard diligence with suspicion? Is that what you call distinguishing right from wrong, is that what you call justice in reward and punishment?”
He turned sharply. “Attendant Scholar Gao! Do you all intend to stand there and watch? Now that Chen Shao has been impeached, have you all lost your courage?”
It was a rare thing to see the Emperor enraged. Because of his frail health and his constant advocacy of ruling through benevolence and filial piety, such harsh words from his lips threw the entire hall into chaos.
“Your Majesty, I am guilty,” someone declared, dropping to his knees.
In the grand hall, the assembled ministers all bowed in unison, while the palace attendants hurried about, serving tea and offering words of comfort.
Cheng Jiao-niang quietly stepped back to the side, watching as Feng Lin was besieged by the ministers – scolded and rebuked from all directions.
Yet Feng Lin still gripped his tablet tightly, answering each accusation one by one. Though his face was as pale as paper, his back remained straight, his figure unshaken in the slightest.
“How pitiful,” someone murmured lazily beside her.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned slightly and saw that it was Zhang Chun.
“All are helpless,” she replied softly.
Two short, mismatched phrases – one after the other – and then silence fell between them, as they both stood watching the turmoil within the hall.
“Feng Lin is finished,” Chen Shao said.
He had already declined the emperor’s summons twice, resigning and remaining at home. Yet, even so, when the morning court adjourned, he was among the first to hear what had happened there.
Old Master Chen nodded.
“The Emperor is no fool – and far more suspicious than most. That Lady Cheng’s move, returning a man’s own weapon against him, was truly ruthless,” he said.
“Both of them acted from self-interest, both sought to sway the ruler’s heart with their words and deeds. But compared with her, Feng Lin’s guilt runs far deeper,” Chen Shao said, setting his teacup down hard on the table.
“He brought it upon himself,” he added.
“How petty,” Old Master Chen said, shaking his head in disapproval of his son’s tone.
Chen Shao bowed respectfully and answered, “Yes, Father,” but the indignation on his face could not be concealed.
“This Lady Cheng is truly formidable,” Old Master Chen said with a laugh. “Still, Feng Lin’s move may not be entirely a bad thing. That girl’s ways are willful and unpredictable – there will be no shortage of people wanting to take her down in the future.”
As he spoke, he glanced at Chen Shao.
Chen Shao looked slightly awkward.
“So long as she serves the country and brings no harm to its people – as she herself said, even thieves and rogues can be put to use – Father, I am not such a rigid man,” he replied.
Old Master Chen burst out laughing.
“…It’s just that she now stands at the height of her influence. No one else dares – or has the chance – to step forward. For Feng Lin to jump out at this moment, why, it’s likely exactly as that girl intended.”
He went on, “Feng Lin meant to kill the chicken to scare the monkeys – but hasn’t she done the same? After this, with Feng Lin’s example laid bare before them, who would still dare plot against her? Who would dare withstand that one fatal question: ‘The speaker had no intent – but what intent had the listener?’ Who would dare let the emperor ask what truly lies in their hearts?”
Chen Shao’s expression grew complicated. He shook his head.
“So this Lady Cheng…” he began, but couldn’t finish.
He sighed instead.
Helped her?
No – if anything, it was she who had helped him, once again.
“Most likely, it won’t be long before Feng Lin is sent out of the capital,” said Old Master Chen. “You should make your own preparations as well – give His Majesty a way to step down gracefully, and the matter will pass.”
Chen Shao acknowledged the instruction, rose, and took his leave.
Old Master Chen continued sipping his tea, his gaze drifting toward the screen behind him. Without noticing, he had already filled it with rows of circles and dots.
He hesitated for a moment, set down his teacup, and picked up his brush to dip it in ink.
“Grandfather.”
Turning his head, Old Master Chen saw Chen Dan-niang leaning against the doorway, peeking in.
When she saw him look her way, she broke into a bright, wide smile.
Old Master Chen couldn’t help but smile as well, beckoning her over with a wave of his hand.
“Grandfather, what are you doing?”
Chen Dan-niang came in and stood before the screen, hands clasped behind her back as she tilted her head.
“Are you darkening the screen again?”
Old Master Chen chuckled and nodded, lowering his brush to draw another circle upon it.
“Grandfather, look at the characters I wrote.” As she spoke, Chen Dan-niang brought out a sheet of paper she’d been hiding behind her back.
“Did you learn these from Lady Cheng?” Old Master Chen asked, reaching out to take the paper.
He nodded approvingly. “Not bad, not bad – quite an improvement.”
“Lady Cheng isn’t home right now,” Chen Dan-niang said. “Once she’s finished with her work, I’ll go show her.”
Old Master Chen looked up at her.
“Dan-niang, you’re not the least bit worried about Lady Cheng?” he asked.
Without even lifting her head, she kept her eyes on the page.
“No, I’m not worried,” she said lightly. “Lady Cheng isn’t a bad person – nothing bad will happen to her.”
Not a bad person – so nothing bad will happen?
Then was Feng Lin a bad person?
Or was Lady Cheng truly a good one?
Old Master Chen smiled faintly, brushed his sleeve, and went back to examining her calligraphy – choosing not to pursue the question any further.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Old Master Zhang was also holding a brush, adding another stroke to the screen before him.
When he finished, he studied it for a moment.
“Too small,” he murmured, and lifted his brush again to make the mark a little larger. “Chen Shao’s share ought to be a bit bigger than the others.”
The old servant beside him chuckled and shook his head.
“Feng Lin has already submitted a request to be posted outside the capital,” he said.
“This time he’s shown some sense,” Old Master Zhang said with a smile, setting the brush down. “To know enough to request it himself, without waiting for the Emperor to expel him – at least he keeps a shred of dignity that way.”
“They say he’s an honest man by nature, and rather good at managing finances,” the servant added with a grin. “He could have been a fine official – just not a censor.
Had he stayed with the Three Judicial Offices, he would’ve done well.”
But that was no longer possible. After this affair, he would never have the chance to return to the capital again.
“Serves him right! Who told him to cross that girl’s bad luck?” Old Master Zhang snorted. “Doesn’t he know how many men have ruined their careers – or even their lives – because of her? She’s a jinx, a walking misfortune – touch her and you’re hurt, bump into her and you’re dead, even seeing her dooms you to three days of bad luck! That’s why, you see, I’ve never gone to meet her…”
He hadn’t even finished speaking when a rush of footsteps sounded outside.
“Old Master! Old Master!”
Old Master Zhang hastily motioned to his servant for silence.
“If she finds out I called her mistress a jinx, she won’t cook for me for three days,” he whispered with a grin.
The old servant could only shake his head helplessly – just as a maid burst in, dropped to her knees, and kowtowed hard.
“Thank you, Old Master! My lady is safe – she’s all right!”
Her voice broke between laughter and tears.
“She’s all right?” Old Master Zhang said, feigning surprise. “They’ve released her then?”
The maid couldn’t help but laugh through her tears.
“Old Master, you’re teasing me again. Madam already sent word – my lady is safe now,” she said.
“Then don’t thank me,” Old Master Zhang chuckled. “I didn’t do a thing to help.”
“I must still thank the Master – and since the Master is your son, Old Master, naturally I must thank you as well,” the maid replied with a smile. She rose, bowed again, and backed out of the room.
From behind her came the sound of Old Master Zhang and his servant laughing together.
The maid wiped her tears, lifted her head – and began to smile once more.
“What are you thanking me for?”
In his study, Zhang Chun – just returned from court – frowned at the maid kneeling and kowtowing before him.
“I thank you for defending my lady,” the maid said respectfully.
“When did I ever defend her?” Zhang Chun asked, brows still furrowed.
“Madam said that you spoke up for my lady and the young master in court,” the maid replied, head lowered.
Zhang Chun set down his book and shook his head.
“I wasn’t speaking for them. I was just annoyed at all the endless prattle in court. The academy is about to start its term, and they go on and on about things that could be settled in three sentences. Why would I waste that much effort?” he said.
The maid kept her head bowed.
“Ah, well,” Zhang Chun said after a pause, his tone turning casual. “There are plenty of people who think as you do. It’s not worth explaining – and even if I did, it wouldn’t change anything. So believe what you like.”
“Yes, Master,” the maid replied.
She stepped back a few paces and stopped at the doorway to bow again.
“Thank you, Master, for taking the trouble to explain to a servant like me,” she said.
Then she rose and left.
Zhang Chun was taken aback by her words, his expression turning slightly awkward. After a moment, he chuckled, shook his head, and lowered his gaze back to his book.
