Trouble has struck the Cheng family of Jiang-zhou once again.
In truth, rumors began circulating as early as yesterday, and by today, even the young server selling tea soup at the bridgehead could recount the tale in vivid detail.
“…That Lady Zhu drew a dagger and declared, ‘If your heart proves faithless, I shall carve it out!’”
The lad, holding a large iron ladle, swayed his head and raised an exaggeratedly delicate finger as he spoke.
Immediately, someone from the audience cut in.
“Hey, now, that’s not right. It was said to be Lady Zhu’s maid who did it – that the young master from the Cheng family tried to force himself on Lady Zhu…”
“Come off it! When that young master Cheng spent fifty thousand, what’s ‘force’ got to do with it? He could have bedded every courtesan in the Desheng Pavilion, and it would’ve been his due.”
A burst of raucous laughter filled the air.
“Only Lady Zhu and Cheng Si-lang, along with their personal servants, were in the room at the time. The Cheng family’s guards were right outside the door and didn’t hear any commotion or unusual disturbance.”
“The tea had been drugged, and the one who struck was Lady Zhu’s maid, Chun Ling, who is also from Jiang-zhou.”
“Then why on earth did she kill Cheng Si-lang?” a staff member couldn’t help but ask at this point.
The close attendant shook his head.
“No one knows. Lady Zhu hanged herself with her own clothing in her cell last night, and Chun Ling had her neck snapped on the spot by Lady Cheng,” he said. “Those present said Lady Cheng only asked one question at that moment.”
“Was it you who did it?”
A voice slowly spoke up.
The voice was faint, and its emergence in this manner and at such a moment sent a chill through everyone present.
They turned to look toward the source: it was Duke Jin’an, who lay half-propped against a pillow on the couch.
“Was that what she asked?” he said again.
Only then did the close attendant snap out of it and nod.
A faint, weak smile appeared on Duke Jin’an’s face.
“Yes, Your Highness guessed correctly. That was all she asked. And the maid simply answered ‘yes’… and then…” the attendant continued, making a twisting motion with his hand.
Most of those present, if they hadn’t killed anyone themselves, had at least seen killing done. Yet even so, their expressions grew slightly uneasy at this point.
In principle, a woman driven to madness might wildly stab someone with a knife – that would be understandable. But to snap someone’s neck barehanded…
It felt even more chilling than seeing blood.
“Come to think of it, I did think Lady Cheng seemed rather strange last night,” one person quickly remarked.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Did you say anything about it?” someone asked.
Well, hadn’t he just implied as much?
“She had a great deal of blood on her clothes,” the man added.
Had she come directly from the Desheng Pavilion?
“Could this incident… have happened because of me?” Duke Jin’an said slowly.
“Your Highness, are you suggesting that Cheng Si-lang was killed to threaten Lady Cheng into not coming to treat you?” Master Gu said, frowning.
“Otherwise, how could such a coincidence occur?” replied Duke Jin’an.
“The world is full of coincidences,” said Master Gu. “Cheng Si-lang had been acting arrogantly at the Desheng Pavilion. Lady Cheng spent extravagantly on his behalf, all because of Lady Zhu’s schemes. Having suffered such a great loss, who knows how he humiliated and mistreated Lady Zhu? If he were truly held hostage, why would it have been so easy? At the time, four of the Cheng family’s guards were present. If it weren’t for the Zhou family and Lady Cheng arriving, who knows how long it would have taken for them to discover their master was dead.”
Here, Master Gu offered a mocking smile.
“In my view, it wasn’t that someone was holding Cheng Si-lang hostage, nor that he couldn’t leave – it was that he didn’t want to.”
Master Gu then called the name of one of the guards.
A guard entered from outside the room.
“Repeat once more how you encountered Lady Cheng that day and what she said,” Master Gu instructed.
“Lady Cheng was admiring the flowers with the Thirteenth Young Master of the Qin family.”
“…She said Your Highness’s condition cannot be treated, and there is no need for her to come see you – precisely because it cannot be treated, and we should seek someone else.”
“When we tried to force her to come, the Sixth Young Master of the Zhou family even struck us.”
Master Gu turned to look at Duke Jin’an.
“Your Highness, did you hear that? She was with the Thirteenth Young Master of the Qin family,” he said, gesturing toward one side of the room.
On one side stood a small chest, filled to the brim with stacks of memorials.
“These are the accusatory memorials against you that the Empress Dowager sent, demanding you burn them,” he continued. “The people behind these memorials and their contents – they were all led and organized by the Qin family.”
“Your Highness,” he said, looking at Duke Jin’an, “it seems Lady Cheng has chosen to side with the Qin family.”
The atmosphere in the room seemed to grow still and heavy.
Looking at Duke Jin’an, who was half-sitting on the couch, the attendant couldn’t help but clear his throat softly.
“Master Gu, that is enough,” he said in a low voice, stepping forward to support Duke Jin’an. “His Highness has just awoken. Let us leave it at that for today.”
Duke Jin’an also seemed to have lost his strength and allowed himself to be helped back down to rest.
“Besides,” Master Gu added, as if suddenly remembering something, “we already went to invite her today, and what was the result? She still refused to see us. Claiming she’s in mourning and that her parents and elders are absent, she finds it inconvenient to receive guests.”
As he spoke, he glanced at the others in the room.
“See? In broad daylight, even when invited, she won’t come. Yet last night, in the dark and windy hours, she insisted on forcing her way in,” he sneered coldly. “It’s just as well we didn’t let her in. Who knows if she intended to snap His Highness’s neck as well.”
“Master Gu!” the attendant raised his voice sharply, glaring at him.
“If she said she is in mourning and her parents and elders are absent, making it inconvenient to receive guests, then it is indeed inconvenient,” Duke Jin’an spoke up calmly, breaking his previous silence.
Master Gu looked at him, nodded, and smiled faintly.
“Yes, Your Highness,” he said, bowing respectfully. “What matters now is for Your Highness to rest well and focus on recovering.”
Everyone in the room bowed and withdrew. The attendant arranged for maids to attend to the prince before hurrying out himself.
“…What nonsense were you spouting just now! You know perfectly well what matters most is His Highness’s recovery! Yet look at the things you said…”
“…I only spoke the truth.”
“…Truth or not, there’s a time and place for everything. His Highness already has few close confidants… and now… sigh…”
The low murmur of voices gradually faded beyond the curtained partition.
Now…
Duke Jin’an slowly raised his hand, opened his palm, looked at the piece of bark lying within it, then slowly closed his hand again and let it drop.
Sleep. What matters now is to recover, to heal. I cannot die. I must survive. I must keep living, no matter how difficult it is.
Listening carefully for a moment toward the bed curtain, the two maids exchanged a glance, nodded, then quietly retreated a few steps before sitting down nearby, closing their eyes to rest as well.
In the afternoon room, the silence felt as deep as night.
Inside the Zhou family courtyard, the hurried procession of carriages and horses filed out the gate one after another. Zhou Fu swiftly caught up.
“Father!” he shouted, his face flushed with anger. “Is this the time to leave?”
Master Zhou lifted the carriage curtain.
“And if we don’t leave now, when should we? If we stay any longer, we’ll end up lying in coffins ourselves!” he hissed in a low voice, jabbing a finger in Zhou Fu’s direction. “You stubborn boy, if you won’t come with us, fine. I’ve already spoken to General Zhong – he will take you back to the northwest immediately.”
“Father!” Zhou Fu cried out again.
“Even though my people are leaving, as for everything here at home – the belongings, the money – tell Jiao-niang to use it as she pleases. It’s all hers. If anything happens, send word to Shan-zhou. If she ever wishes to return to Shan-zhou, she is welcome. Tell her not to treat herself as an outsider,” Master Zhou quickly added, remembering something. Without waiting for Zhou Fu to respond, he dropped the curtain and urged the driver to hurry.
Zhou Fu had no choice but to see them off. Standing outside the city gate, he watched the convoy of carriages and horses shrink into specks on the horizon before turning away, his mood somber. He let out a heavy breath, then cracked his whip fiercely. His horse surged forward at a gallop.
“Look, it’s the Sixth Young Master of the Zhou family again.”
The gatekeepers at the Qin family residence, who had been chatting and laughing moments before, immediately snapped to attention. Guards within the gates swarmed out.
“Young Master Zhou!” the head steward called out loudly, watching as Zhou Fu took his longbow from his person. “We respect you, but if you brandish a weapon before our Qin residence, do not blame us for drawing ours in return.”
Zhou Fu looked at him, then shifted his gaze to the Qin family manor, taking in the gatekeepers and guards now on high alert. He threw his head back and laughed heartily.
“Young Master Zhou?” the steward asked, frowning.
Zhou Fu’s laughter hadn’t yet faded when he suddenly tore a strip of cloth from his robe. With lightning speed, he drew his bow and loosed an arrow.
A brief stir rippled through the crowd at the Qin gate. Thwack! The arrow struck the door, pinning the torn cloth fabric firmly to it.
Zhou Fu gave the assembled men one last look, then turned his horse and rode away, never glancing back.
“Go.”
Qin Hu waved his hand, and the servant promptly withdrew.
Looking at the strip of cloth and the single long arrow laid out before him, Qin Hu smiled.
“That stubborn lad has actually learned to sever ties by tearing his robe,” he said with a chuckle. Reaching out, he picked up both the cloth and the arrow, then rose to his feet and walked slowly toward the inner chamber. [1]
His steps were measured, his hands holding that piece of cloth and the arrow as if they were the most precious treasures in the world.
At that moment, Zhou Fu stepped through the gate of the Cheng residence.
The courtyard was already fully arranged for the funeral rites. Fan Jianglin and Lady Huang were each occupied with their tasks. Seeing him approach, they hesitated briefly before having a servant tear off a strip of mourning cloth for him.
Zhou Fu reached out to take it. Without a word, he headed straight inside.
The door to Cheng Jiao-niang’s room was open. At a glance, he could see her sitting within, with Ban Qin holding her hand and weeping.
“Why wasn’t it bandaged?” she said. “Such a deep wound.”
Yesterday, after the lady left the Desheng Pavilion and did not return all night, and then with the household busy preparing Cheng Si-lang’s encoffining upon her return, and with herself weeping uncontrollably, she hadn’t even noticed that the lady had been injured on her hand.
The blood had already been washed away, making the wound running across her palm appear even more gruesome.
“Wrapping it would actually slow the healing,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
“But it will leave a scar,” Ban Qin sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she held Cheng Jiao-niang’s hand.
“It’s fine. A scar is just a scar. One more won’t make a difference,” Cheng Jiao-naing said, withdrawing her hand.
Thinking back, when she died last time, arrows had flown like rain from all directions. She must have been pierced all over like a hedgehog, left covered in countless scars.
She pursed her lips and smiled faintly.
Smiling?
Zhou Fu frowned and stepped forward.
“Eldest Young Master has already arranged all matters concerning Fourth Young Master’s funeral. Miss, is there anything else you wish to have done…” Ban Qin asked between sobs.
Back when the Maoyuan Mountain brothers died, the mistress had expended so much effort to clear their names, achieving deeds that would ensure their place in history. Whenever someone mentioned Maoyuan Mountain wine or the foremost calligraphy masterpiece under heaven, the story of those Maoyuan Mountain brothers would naturally be told alongside them.
Now, with Cheng Si-lang dead at the hands of a courtesan, and Lady Zhu hanging herself in prison, the affair had grown even more convoluted and was being spread through the city in the most sordid ways.
Surely the mistress would want to clear Cheng Si-lang’s name as well.
“Have him cremated,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “Send his ashes back to Jiang-zhou. Then, in the capital, we can erect a cenotaph for his memorial.”
Ban Qin looked at her, waiting, but after a while, no further words came.
“Is that all?” she asked.
“Oh,” Cheng Jiao-niang added, nodding as if remembering something, “leave the tombstone uninscribed.”
Back when the Maoyuan Mountain brothers were buried, their tombstones were also left blank. It wasn’t until their wrongful deaths were redressed and they received posthumous honors that the mistress personally carved the inscriptions.
It seemed this time, too, she would wait until Cheng Si-lang’s vengeance was exacted and his name cleared before she would inscribe his name on the stone.
Ban Qin nodded, murmured an acknowledgment, and rose. She bowed to Zhou Fu before lowering her head and walking away.
Zhou Fu sat down on the veranda outside the door, settling the hem of his robe.
“Tell me, then. What shall we do?” he said bluntly.
Was he asking how to deal with Young Master Qin?
Ban Qin’s steps faltered slightly. She couldn’t help but glance back.
“Tell me – who do we need to take down this time?” It was as if a young man’s smiling face leaned in, his voice lowered in confidence.
The words were the same, but now the one who had once spoken them had become the very target to be taken down?
Translator’s Note:
[1] The saying originates from historical anecdotes or folklore in ancient China, and is often used as a metaphor for completely severing friendships, brotherly bonds, or other close relationships, emphasizing the decisiveness and finality of the break.
