Huang Momo had been a widow for years and had only one son, Liu Ren — a worthless scoundrel given to drinking, gambling and debauchery.
Huang Momo had worked in the palace and received a steady monthly stipend. She had long delivered children for nobility and gentry; the rewards were generous. Because of his mother, Liu Ren — a man from the lowest trades — had lived well: he even married a scholar’s daughter as his lawful wife and kept three coy concubines.
Now that his mother had died under mysterious circumstances in the palace, and some official “person above” had handed them fifty taels and told them to take the money and be gone, to the whole family it was like a thunderclap—
She’d died for no reason; how would this family feed themselves now?
And even if she was dead, fifty taels was an insult—they deserved at least five thousand taels!
Liu Ren grew angrier and angrier, took the fifty taels and went to get drunk in Pingkang Ward. Once drunk, he began making a scene and picked a quarrel.
Street brawls have always hinged on the duty of “insulting one’s mother.” When someone shouted, “You blind b*stard—your mother’s dead!” Liu Ren’s blood boiled. He snatched up a long bench and, like a rabid dog, charged: “You son of a bitch, I’ll kill you!”
In the end they were subdued by patrol officers and both thrown into the county prison.
Outside the county jail, Liu Ren’s wife, hearing of her husband’s arrest and fearing that the “person above” had betrayed them and would persecute them to death, spent the night in terror. At dawn she rushed to the county yamen to cry foul.
The newly appointed county magistrate was a minor scion under Duke Ying’s fourth branch. When he heard the woman say that Huang Momo had been a servant under Consort Xian and had inexplicably died in the Office of Punishment, he sniffed some foul play and promptly had Liu Ren’s wife brought in for questioning.
After questioning and finding out the general situation, he was overjoyed and hurried to report the matter to his legitimate elder brother, Sun Yuanzhong, the son of Duke Ying.
“Brother, that dead Huang Momo was the midwife sent by Consort Xian to help deliver Pei Shouzhen’s wife. I heard that on the day of childbirth, the Pei household also invited Doctor Lin and Lin Little Hand from Yonghe Hall — it must’ve been a difficult delivery. But that Huang Momo didn’t return to the palace to report right after; she was only brought back from the Second Prince’s residence the next day. And once she entered the palace, she suddenly died. Tell me, how could a healthy person just drop dead like that?”
After hearing this, Sun Yuanzhong pondered for a moment, then immediately rode his horse to the Third Prince’s residence.
That same evening, he patted his younger half-brother on the shoulder and earnestly advised him, “As the magistrate of Chang’an County, you must look into this murder case thoroughly. If you need anything, come to me anytime. Don’t be afraid of making it a big issue. Even if your county can’t handle it, there’s still the Capital Prefecture, the Dali Temple, and the Ministry of Justice above you! They say every new official must make a mark — if your fire can burn the ‘virtuous’ mother and son’s robes, that would be a great achievement, and your performance review in three years will be secure!”
With his elder brother’s encouragement, the county magistrate’s courage swelled. Not only did he open the investigation wide, but he even went about it with great fanfare — as if afraid the whole world might not hear of it.
He not only sent people to interrogate the Pei household but also submitted report after report up the chain of command, all the way to the Department of Judicial Punishments. Though the county office had limited authority and failed to obtain Huang Momo’s body, the case successfully alarmed the Dali Temple, the Capital Prefecture, and the Ministry of Justice. The next morning in court, officials from all three departments brought up the case and asked Emperor Zhaoning to set a precedent.
Upon hearing that the matter involved Consort Xian, the emperor’s face behind his beaded crown darkened at once.
The Second Prince, seated below, quickly stepped forward and said, “Although this concerns the inner palace, the matter is highly suspicious. I beseech Royal Father to assign officials to investigate thoroughly, to give justice to the deceased — and to ease Royal Mother’s worries.”
Once the Second Prince had spoken, the Third Prince in his purple robes also came forward. “Royal Father, Second Brother speaks rightly. Royal Mother Consort Xian has long managed the harem with fairness and benevolence, always just and even-tempered. For the midwife she sent to the Pei household to die so mysteriously in the Department of Judicial Punishments is truly shocking. No doubt Royal Mother Consort is deeply troubled and sleepless over this. If the matter can be quickly resolved, she too can find peace of mind.”
The two princes’ rivalry was no secret among the court officials. Now that both had publicly called for a full investigation, everyone began to wonder — who was truly behind it all?
“If this royal finds out who’s playing tricks behind my back, I will make sure they die a miserable death!”
In Xianling Palace, the ever-gentle and composed Consort Xian lost her temper for the first time. A full set of imperial chrysanthemum-petal jade teaware, along with its red lacquer tray painted with golden begonias, was swept off the table and shattered across the floor.
The palace maids all dropped to their knees in fright, crying out in unison, “Niang Niang, please calm yourself!”
The old Momo beside Consort Xian remained steady. She ordered the maids to clean up the mess and dismissed the others, then helped Consort Xian sit on the beauty couch and softly comforted her. “Niang Niang must take care of your health. Don’t let anger harm you.”
How could Consort Xian not be angry? A few days ago, the Second Prince had sent word that Huang Momo might have been bribed — that she had tampered with something during the delivery. The thought filled Consort Xian with both fury and dread.
“Everyone in the palace knows Huang Momo was my person. If Madam Shen was truly harmed by her, first, it means I misjudged and employed the wrong person — my reputation will suffer. Second, Pei Xia values Madam Shen deeply. If she died because of someone from my household, he would surely grow distant from Jin’er… That schemer truly is clever — what a vicious plan, to kill two birds with one stone!”
Consort Xian let out a cold laugh, and as she recalled what had happened in court that day, her face grew darker still. “I meant to have her taken to the Department of Judicial Punishments for interrogation, but that Liu Huang woman actually went so far as to kill herself in fear of punishment?”
Now that the matter had escalated — from a palace affair into a political battle — both princes had already taken a stance.
Consort Xian frowned, puzzled. “Why is Sima Ze inserting himself into this?”
If Huang Momo’s scheme had succeeded and been exposed, Sima Ze would have been the one to benefit most. Yet he, too, had joined in demanding a full investigation —
Had he erased every trace of his involvement so cleanly there was nothing left to find? Or… was there another mastermind altogether?
Whoever it was, the situation had gone too far. To prove her innocence, Consort Xian had no choice but to cooperate fully. She rubbed her aching forehead and instructed the matron gravely:
“Go. Find out everything about Liu Huang’s movements — whom she met before leaving and after returning to the palace, what she said, what her household has been doing. Leave nothing unchecked. This time, I will make sure that vile schemer has nowhere to hide!”
The case was ultimately handed to the Dali Temple, with the Department of Judicial Punishments assisting.
Not long after the news reached the Eldest Princess’s residence, Princess Shouan arrived — her face haggard and eyes red with tears. As soon as she saw the princess, she broke down sobbing.
“Aunt, the situation is getting worse and worse. Now even the Dali Temple is involved… If they trace it back to me, what should I do?”
The Eldest Princess looked at Shouan — pale, panicked, helpless — just like the delicate little kitten she once “picked up.”
That kitten had been so beautiful — and so very stupid. When she closed her fingers around its neck and slowly tightened her grip, it had thought she was playing with it. Only when her strength abruptly increased did it start to struggle —
But what use was struggling? Its claws had been trimmed smooth; the more it fought, the more excited she became.
“Aunt, please — think of a way for me! If they really find out it was me, my royal mother will kill me for sure!” Shouan could think of nothing but regret now. Had she known things would blow up like this, she would never have done such a wicked thing.
One wrong step, then every step wrong—not only had they failed to kill that Shen woman, they had brought disaster upon themselves, hoisting a rock only to smash their own foot.
The eldest princess, seeing that her niece was now begging her for ideas, couldn’t help but laugh inwardly. If she herself had raised such a foolish daughter, she would rather beat her to death and be done with it.
But that Consort Xian woman…
Slender fingers toyed idly with the gilt tassel hanging from her phoenix hairpin. Princess Jinhua narrowed her eyes. Among her imperial brother’s harem, Consort Xian was without question the most enduring one. To wear that mask of virtue for so many years—she almost felt tired on her behalf.
Yet though she despised Consort Xian’s pretenses, she despised Consort Shu’s face even more.
That face—nothing special at all, nowhere near as radiant as hers—yet somehow it lingered in people’s hearts, unforgettable. Why?
If one had to be chosen to ascend, better the second prince—
If Consort Xian and her son took power, they would never allow Consort Shu and her son to survive. Then perhaps she would even have the chance to take her own golden hairpin and carve up that detestable face, drench it in blood.
The thought alone made her fingers tremble with excitement.
“Aunt… aunt?” Princess Shouan, seeing the sudden mad smile flash across her aunt’s eyes, felt a chill. Rumors had long whispered that her aunt was touched by madness—could they be true?
“Aunt, what’s the matter with you?”
“Oh, nothing.” The Eldest Princess came back to herself. “I just drifted off, remembering old things.”
Her gaze fell on Shouan again. Propping her forehead with one hand, she put on a troubled look. “This was nothing more than a trifle, but with Sima Ze fanning the flames, it’s been made into a storm. Alas, little Shouan, if this continues, not only will you suffer, your royal mother and brother will be dragged down as well. Last time Sima Ze rode his horse through the streets, it wasn’t two days before the whole city knew. His violent reputation even spread beyond Chang’an—and that was thanks in no small part to your royal brother. Now that he has a hold on you, he’ll surely make a fuss of it, pouring filth on your royal mother and brother both.”
Shouan had not thought so far. Hearing this now, she panicked even more. “Then—then what should I do?”
The Eldest Princess tapped her chin, then looked at her with pity and tenderness. “I have a way. Not only can it rescue your royal mother and brother, it can even win them greater renown.”
“What way?” Shouan’s eyes lit up. “Aunt, tell me quickly!”
“Before the Dali Temple gets to the bottom of things, you go to Consort Xian and confess everything.”
The eldest princess swept her eyes over Shouan’s suddenly bloodless face and sighed. “Don’t worry—you are your mother’s own flesh and blood. How could she really punish you? Kneel before her and weep, say you lost your senses, committed a terrible mistake, you blame yourself and are willing to admit guilt, willing even for your mother to uphold justice above kinship and hand you over to Dali Temple. This way, Pei Shouzhen gets his answer, while your royal mother and brother’s good name is preserved. Afterward, who wouldn’t say that Consort Xian is righteous and fair—that even when her own daughter breaks the law, she treats her as an ordinary subject?”
“Aunt… aunt…” Shouan stared, dumbstruck. She had never imagined her aunt’s so-called solution would be to make her the sacrifice.
The Eldest Princess knew her niece was a fool. Likely, when Consort Xian had given birth, all her brains had gone into Sima Jin, and not a bit was left for Shouan.
So she added a few more words: “Good child, don’t be afraid. How could your aunt really let you bear all the blame alone? You just need to see farther. Sacrifice yourself, and you protect your royal mother and brother’s reputation. Later… when your royal brother succeeds, would he ever mistreat his own sister? The losses you suffer now, he’ll repay double.”
“Look at me, your aunt—am I not proof? When my princess consort’s whole family was executed, I was with child. I still forced down a bowl of safflower and ended it.”
The eldest princess smiled sweetly, patting Shouan’s hand with a face full of gentle warmth. “Be sensible, don’t delay the men’s great endeavors. With guilt in their hearts, as long as you don’t meddle in their power, everything else—status, riches, men—they’ll all make it up to you.”
Shouan had never known her aunt once lost a child. Hearing her speak of it so lightly now, she felt a chill crawl up her back.
But what her aunt said made sense.
Better to confess to her royal mother early than wait for Dali Temple to uncover it…
At once, Shouan felt her mind had never been clearer, and a strange tragic nobility welled up in her heart—
She thought, if sacrificing herself could help her mother and brother gain prestige, then it wasn’t a loss.
After Shouan left, the Eldest Princess leaned back against her couch, in excellent spirits.
She truly wondered—when Consort Xian, always so “gentle and just,” learned that it was her own foolish daughter who caused such chaos, what would her reaction be?
Chang’an had not seen such excitement in a long time.
“Attend me.”
The Eldest Princess narrowed her eyes and smiled. “Call Wind Flower Snow Moon—I’ll drink myself into oblivion tonight!”
—
Huang Momo’s death was being talked about everywhere, and even Shen Yujiao, in confinement after childbirth, heard of it.
At first, she too thought it was the Third Prince’s men stirring up trouble, trying to sow discord between Pei Xia and the Second Prince.
But when she heard how unusually eager the Third Prince was in pursuing the case, and how the Dali Temple was investigating with great zeal, she grew puzzled—
The Crown Prince controlled the Ministry of War, the Second Prince the Ministry of Personnel, and the Third Prince the Ministry of Justice. He was also on close terms with the Minister of Dali Temple. If it was really his scheme, why would he be cooperating so well?
If it wasn’t the Third Prince, then who else could have thought up such a vicious scheme to harm her?
Shen Yujiao puzzled over it endlessly, and when she asked Pei Xia, he only comforted her: “Both inside and outside the palace they are investigating this matter. I believe there will soon be an outcome. You need not dwell on it—just rest and recover in peace.”
Since he put it that way, Shen Yujiao also tried to restrain herself from thinking too much.
After all, if Xiaying hadn’t let something slip, she might never have known that Huang Momo was actually such a malicious person. Yet in all their past dealings, Huang Momo had been deferential and gentle, her words and conduct flawless.
Truly—one cannot ride tigers and leopards, and no one can see through another’s heart.
She sighed inwardly, then turned around to comfort Pei Xia: “Langjun, you too should not wear yourself out over this matter. In two days it will be the Spring Examination. These next two days you need not keep coming to the back courtyard. If you miss the child, just have the nurse bring him over for you to see. Time is as precious as gold—better that you stay in the study and read diligently.”
At those words, Pei Xia lifted his eyes to her.
Shen Yujiao asked in puzzlement, “Langjun?”
Pei Xia’s thin lips parted slightly: “What if…it’s you that I miss?”
Shen Yujiao froze, hardly daring to believe her own ears.
He…he actually said he missed her.
Her cheeks grew hot, her head went fuzzy, and she didn’t know how to respond.
Strange—far too strange. She kept repeating inwardly: is he still the same cold and distant Pei Shouzhen? Or has he really been tainted by something unclean?
“I said it in jest—why be so startled?”
Pei Xia took in her stunned and helpless look, then reached out to rub her silk-like black hair. “Rest now. I’ll go back to the study.”
Shen Yujiao was still dazed, mechanically nodding: “Al…alright…”
Pei Xia rose from the bed, gave her another long look, and then turned to leave.
Shen Yujiao watched his tall figure disappear behind the screen. Only after a long time did she raise her hand to touch her still-warm cheek, and the heart in her chest that was still beating wildly.
Strange—far too strange.
—
In Great Liang, the Spring Examination was held in blossoming March, beginning on the ninth day, three sittings in all, one every three days, lasting nine days in total.
Since the matter of Huang Momo had already drawn in the Dali Temple and two princes, Pei Xia did not ask further. He only planned to spend two days reading quietly at home. By the time he came out of the examination hall, he trusted the case would have its resolution.
But back in the study, before the chair had even warmed under him, Jinglin came with news: “After the coroner of the Dali Temple examined Huang Momo’s corpse, they discovered the knife wound on her palm, and arrested Xie Wuling as a suspect.”
Pei Xia’s hand froze in mid-motion, his brows knitting.
How could he have forgotten this point…
With a snap he tossed the book onto the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose as a wave of irritation rose in him.
After a long moment, he exhaled heavily, his voice edged with coldness: “Why has he still not left Chang’an?”
Jinglin knew his master wanted nothing more to do with this Xie Wuling, but the fellow’s bad luck was indeed terrible: “He…he was supposed to leave Chang’an today. Just as he reached the ferry, the Court’s men seized him at the docks. They said he was trying to flee, which only deepened their suspicions.”
Pei Xia: “…”
Idiots, the whole lot at the Court.
“Langjun, do you think we should send someone over…to make inquiries?”
“…”
Pei Xia truly wanted never again to hear the name “Xie Wuling,” never to have the slightest entanglement with him.
But if that man, now imprisoned, were interrogated under torture and let slip something of his ties with Yuniang, it would ultimately implicate both the Pei family and Yuniang.
After a silence as heavy as death, Pei Xia finally lifted his eyes, dark and brooding: “Prepare the carriage. We’re going to the Second Prince’s residence.”
—
The golden crow sank west, twilight heavy, crimson clouds staining the gates of the Dali Temple’s prison.
“Old Brother Xing, next time I’ll hear more of your exploits robbing the rich to aid the poor!”
“Little Zhu, behave yourself in there, strive to come out soon. Don’t get into fights again—whether you win and land in prison, or lose and land in the infirmary, it’s not worth it.”
“Ah, Brother Li, don’t worry. At worst it’s only a scar the size of a rice bowl. Eighteen years later I’ll be a hero again!”
Jinglin and Eunuch Rongqing followed the jailer in front, listening as behind them Xie Wuling cheerfully bid farewell to fellow inmates one by one. Both were left speechless.
The man had only been locked up since the hour of Si—barely three hours—and already carried himself as if he’d been there three years.
To be this at home in prison was truly unheard-of.
When the group reached the gates, Eunuch Rongqing smiled at the jailer: “We’ll be taking the man with us now, thank you for your trouble.”
The jailer waved his hands repeatedly: “No trouble at all, Eunuch Wang is too polite.”
Rongqing said no more. He stepped forward and saw two carriages waiting outside: one from the Second Prince’s residence, one from the Pei estate.
Cradling his horsetail whisk, he walked directly to the Pei carriage, bowed respectfully toward the beaded curtain patterned in blue-green linked circles, and said: “Lord Pei, the man has been bailed out and is now entrusted to you.”
Two slender, jade-like fingers lifted the curtain. In the dim light appeared half of a handsome man’s profile. “Many thanks, Eunuch Wang.”
“Not at all.”
Rongqing bowed his head: “Before we left, His Highness reminded me—two days from now is the Spring Examination. I hope, Sir, you will devote yourself fully to it, and not waste time on unnecessary people and matters.”
Inside the carriage, silence lingered for two breaths before a man’s emotionless voice sounded: “May I trouble Eunuch to convey that Xia will not fail His Highness’s expectations.”
Rongqing laughed: “Good, then this humble one shall here first wish Master Pei success on the appointed day, and your name shining on the Golden List!”
After some polite words, Rongqing boarded his carriage and left.
Jinglin then brought Xie Wuling forward. Just as he was about to speak, another carriage with vermilion wheels and ornate canopy rushed up.
Looking toward the sound, the lanterns hanging in front of the carriage clearly bore the emblem of the Marquis family of Zhennan.
Stepping down was a steward from Hou Yunchang’s household. Familiar with Xie Wuling, he was surprised to see him already outside: “Guard Xie, you…why are you here?”
Xie Wuling glanced at Jinglin. Seeing he made no move to stop him, he stepped forward boldly: “The child has no mother—long story. Steward Yang, did the young shizi send you?”
“Yes. The young shizi heard you’d been seized by the Dali Temple, and he was furious, cursing you as a troublemaker.” Steward Yang shook his head, then looked him up and down. Seeing his complexion ruddy, no trace of torture, he secretly let out a breath of relief. “The Marquis was not at the manor, the young shizi is still young. To get you released, he had to use the Old Madam’s decree to ask the Shiland of the Department of Justice to stand surety, and also file with the Dali Temple…ah, truly troublesome. The young shizi said when you return, you’re to be beaten twenty boards!”
Xie Wuling knew well that the brat’s mouth was hard but his heart soft. The Huo family loved their soldiers as sons—this was no empty talk.
“Steward Yang, I still have some private matters to deal with. Please go back and tell the young shizi I’ll return later to make amends. Not just twenty boards—if he wants both my arms broken off, I’ll tear them off myself and present them to him.”
“Still jesting at a time like this!”
Steward Yang glared at him, then noticed the carriage parked nearby. He wanted to ask more, but with others present, he held his tongue and only reminded: “Remember to return early!”
“Of course, of course!”
Zhennan Marquis manor’s carriage soon turned back, fading into the sunset.
Xie Wuling turned, strolled to the Pei carriage, and—ignoring Jinglin’s resentful face—spoke straight toward the curtain: “Great Gentleman Pei, many thanks for today.”
He truly hadn’t expected Pei Xia would come bail him out.
What surprised him even more was Pei Xia lifting the curtain, his gaze dark and cold as he glanced at him: “Get in.”
