Marquis Wei! The Wei family of the capital had two Marquises—Marquis Xianan and Marquis Fengan—both prominent imperial relatives. How were they involved in an explosion case? The people erupted in shock.
Su Yan’s face turned stern as he thundered, “What audacity! To implicate a noble without evidence—isn’t that a capital crime?”
The grain merchants wailed:
“Every word we speak is true! May the official discern clearly!”
“The money really came from Tongji Moneyhouse! The silver notes still bear their seal—solid evidence!”
“We honestly don’t know how the explosion happened. Maybe Boss Wan doesn’t know either?”
“That’s possible,” Su Yan stroked his smooth chin and mused aloud, “Whether Wan Xin was aware or not, we must question him directly. But Wan Xin is the brother-in-law of Marquis Fengan, Wei Jun. If this official summons him for interrogation, it might offend the Marquis…”
Those closest to the platform heard his “murmur,” and a wave of blood surged through their chests.
Perhaps it was because Marquis Fengan was infamous among the people for seizing women with impunity, stoking widespread resentment. Meanwhile, this young Lord Su had earned great renown in the capital. He once beat the Drum of Redress before the Palace Gates to call for justice on behalf of his teacher—widely regarded as a loyal and upright official. The common people cared little for court politics—they believed in a simple truth: those who abused power and preyed on civilians were villains; those who upheld justice and virtue were good officials.
Thus, a bold young man shouted, “My lord! Are you not the same Lord Su who beat the palace drum and punished twelve evildoers for your teacher’s injustice? We’ve long heard you fear no powerful men—surely you won’t back down just because the Wei family is influential!”
“That’s right! If even Lord Su retreats, who else dares to pull the tiger’s whiskers?”
“Since you’ve started the investigation, you must see it through! We all want to know the truth about the Baizhifang explosion!”
“My lord, please seek justice for the families who lost their lives in the blast!”
“Please, Lord Su, stand up for the people—”
“Lord Su—!”
The crowd surged with emotion, hearts burning. Su Yan’s eyes welled with tears. He cupped his hands and promised solemnly, “This official will not fail your trust. No matter how difficult or dangerous, I will never back down!”
Cheers erupted from the crowd.
Behind the main table, one of the assistant judges, Zuo Guangbi, a senior official from the Ministry of Justice, rolled his eyes discreetly and said to his colleague from the Censorate, Chu Qiu, “Now I see clearly what our role is here today.”
Chu Qiu, a refined man in his early thirties with elegant features, had ranked first among the top scholars six years ago. He began in the Hanlin Academy but later gave up that prestigious path to serve in the Censorate as a seventh-rank official. He replied, “And what role is that, Brother?”
“To play supporting roles, of course. Look at this grand stage act, with Lord Su taking center stage—his popularity will soar again.”
“…Are you implying he’s currying favor with the people for political gain?”
“Isn’t he?”
Chu Qiu gave a slight, cold smile. “Even if he were, one must have real merit to trade. This public trial today—Su Qinghe has now openly clashed with the Wei family. It’s to the death now. He’s also crossed the Empress Dowager. Tell me, Brother Jinzhi, would you risk all that to gain a little goodwill from the people?”
Zuo Guangbi was flustered by the counter. His face flushed red. “Brother Lingchuan, that’s not fair. I’m far closer to you than Su Qinghe is, am I not?”
“Our friendship is naturally closer. But Brother Jinzhi, do you see the mythical beast on his back?” Chu Qiu pointed with his chin at the qilin badge embroidered on Su Yan’s robe. “He wears the robe of a yanguan—a Censor. This means he’s handling the case as a Censor. If this case goes down in history, it’ll be a brilliant feather in the cap of all yanguan. Public duty outweighs personal feeling, Brother Jinzhi.”
Censors were known for their collective identity and unity. Zuo Guangbi knew this, but still felt discontent.
“Well, Su Yan didn’t exactly show much team spirit before. Remember when he exposed Censor Jia Gongji in court a few days ago? That led to Jia Gongji being dismissed and investigated. You’d better watch your back in case he stabs you too.”
A sudden sense of revulsion rose in Chu Qiu. Was Zuo Jinzhi simply too long steeped in politics? Why had he become so jealous of the capable?
Suppressing his distaste, Chu Qiu said stiffly, “Censor unity is not about cliques or group interests. It’s about fulfilling our duty to supervise and investigate, to uphold justice and root out corruption. Anyone like Jia Gongji, who used his post for self-promotion, does not deserve the title of yanguan! Even if Lord Su hadn’t reported him, I, Chu Lingchuan, would have done it sooner or later!”
Zuo Guangbi had been slapped in the face, and sulkily fell silent, no longer paying attention to his former friend.
As for the estrangement, Chu Qiu didn’t mind much. After all, “paths diverge, and thus we part.” He had voluntarily left the Hanlin Academy, which groomed future chancellors, and chose instead to serve quietly as a censor. It was a path incomprehensible to most officials—seeking no lofty position, but holding fast to integrity.
Su Yan, meanwhile, was unaware that as he engaged with the crowd below the platform, the boat of friendship between his two assistant judges had almost capsized.
Going with the flow, he had the Embroidered Uniform Guard take an imperial summons to Tongji Bank to “summon” Wan Xin. In reality, they were extracting him directly from the imperial prison to bring him to the public hearing.
Wan Xin, to be fair, was an expert at weighing pros and cons. At first, he absolutely refused to testify, fearing he might provoke or implicate the Duke Wei family and lose his powerful connections forever. Shi Yanshuang had considered using torture, but Su Yan stopped him, saying, “This type of man only acts out of self-interest. Even if he yields under torture now, once he’s on the stage he may change his tune. Better to make the stakes clear—only then will he cooperate willingly.”
So, Wan Xin “accidentally” overheard confidential case details in the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s private conversations—details revealing that the Wei family was plotting rebellion! That they had been used by the Void Sect to attempt regicide! A crime punishable by the extermination of nine generations!
Even if the emperor’s wrath was not enough, the Empress Dowager—regardless of her connection through Madam Qin—would never forgive such treason.
Wan Xin had already suspected that the explosion was tied to the Wei family and the Void Sect. But rebellion? That was unthinkable!
Faced with the prospect of being implicated in treason and annihilated along with his family, he realized that his only hope of survival was full cooperation with the special investigation team.
Tearfully, he pledged to Su Yan that he wished to atone for his sins, begging only that he and his family be spared.
As for his sister and brother-in-law—well, when death is at the door, family loyalty comes second. Besides, they were the ones who had kept secrets from him first. He couldn’t afford to die for their madness.
Su Yan congratulated him on making the right choice and had Shi Yanshuang give him a stern briefing.
Thus, at the public hearing, the Embroidered Uniform Guard brought Wan Xin forward.
Under Su Yan’s sharp interrogation, Wan Xin first tried to deny everything, but finally, under “reluctant coercion,” he revealed the mastermind behind it all.
—Even though it had all been arranged beforehand, he still played it safe and didn’t mention the Wei family at all. He claimed it was all under the coercion of the Void Sect.
And so, the words “Void Sect” were suddenly and shockingly introduced into the public hearing of the explosion case.
Many people were stunned into silence, exchanging bewildered looks as whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
Seeing this, Su Yan immediately understood: there were quite a few followers of the sect in the capital, and they were deeply indoctrinated—they wouldn’t believe Wan Xin’s confession easily.
But that didn’t matter. Superstition was something to be broken, step by step.
Perhaps the first blow would only shake things slightly. But the second, third… blow after blow, sustained and unrelenting—eventually, even the hardest walls would shatter.
Su Yan frowned and shouted at Wan Xin: “The Void Sect was banned by the government at the founding of the state! What Void Sect are you talking about now? Are you inventing a fake cult to escape punishment?”
The founding emperor had issued a decree outlawing the sect. The common folk knew this well, which is why they only worshipped it in secret and never dared mention it publicly.
After Su Yan’s sharp question, the murmurs in the crowd grew even quieter, and a strange silence fell over the scene.
Wan Xin cried out: “This humble man is innocent! Even if I were the most evil, the blackest-hearted scoundrel, I couldn’t commit such a heinous act as blowing up thousands of people! It truly was on orders from a sect ‘head preacher’! I… I have the incense leader’s token to prove it!”
He dropped to his knees with a thud and pulled from his chest a token carved with an eight-petaled lotus and the words “Incense Leader” on the front, and on the back, the inscription: “When the Great Calamity comes, Heaven and Earth darken— The Red Lotus appears, and all returns to the Void.”
He presented it to Su Yan.
Su Yan examined it, then had a Embroidered Uniform Guard officer hold it up and walk the perimeter of the crowd, letting all see.
In the crowd, someone murmured, “That’s definitely the Sacred Lotus Token… I’ve seen the same on another incense leader.”
“You’re a ‘lay follower’ too?”
“Yes, looks like we’re all believers… Do you think the explosion really was ordered by the Sect Leader?”
“That can’t be! Doesn’t the scripture say that our sect defeats darkness, slays demons, saves all beings? How could it have killed thousands of innocent people in Baizhifang? Impossible…”
“They said the explosion was strange, that it was Heaven’s punishment, a sign of the Red Sun Calamity. But just now we saw with our own eyes—it was caused by that… that dust explosion. Doesn’t seem like divine punishment at all. Could it all be a lie?”
“Don’t say such things! If your faith wavers, you won’t escape the calamity, and after death, you won’t return to the Void—you’ll be reborn as an animal, forever and ever!”
“Maybe it was some rogue ‘head preacher’ acting on their own, dragging the Sect Leader down with them?”
“Possible… but then again, no. If the Sect Leader can’t even see through or stop something like this, how can he claim to be the living Buddha, the guide of all beings?”
For a while, the crowd was abuzz with conflicting opinions. Many were trapped in a fog of doubt, unable to tell truth from falsehood.
Su Yan put the token into the evidence pouch and said, “A single token is not ironclad proof. You accuse a supposedly nonexistent cult of being behind this explosion—doesn’t that sound absurd? Let’s set aside the rest. If it truly was the Void Sect, what was the motive?”
Wan Xin, having memorized the script beforehand, now used it: “To fulfill the prophecy! The explosion at Baizhifang fits it perfectly—‘Thunderbolt heralds the Great Calamity; Heaven and Earth go dark, Sun and Moon lose light!’”
From within the crowd, a child’s crisp voice began to chant: “True Emptiness saves the suffering, Red Lotus manifests, Chaos is reborn.”
The child giggled and said, “Mama, just now a big red lotus exploded out of the green gauze stall too! Is that a sign of the Great Calamity too?”
People nearby turned to look. The boy’s mother was startled, quickly covering his mouth: “Don’t say such things! What would a child know?”
The child became unhappy, struggling to pry open his mother’s palm, shouting loudly: “I’m not lying! The adults said the same thing—that the big explosion that night was divine punishment. That one was, so why isn’t today’s explosion the same?”
As if these words awakened those lost in a dream, many onlookers’ faces showed shock, suspicion, anger, even shame. Among the believers, some suddenly sobered up, some remained stubborn, some beat their chests in frustration, some fainted on the spot, some cursed, others retorted fiercely—the crowd erupted into chaos.
Su Yan saw the situation slipping out of control and quickly ordered the soldiers to maintain order. The drummers struck the big drums more than a dozen times in succession, temporarily suppressing the uproar.
“I see that everyone has their own thoughts. Since no one can convince another, why not leave it to Heaven’s judgment? Let’s see if this banned True Void Sect truly acts on Heaven’s behalf, or if they are just using the claim of divine mandate to create explosions, proving the rumors they fabricated.”
After Su Yan finished speaking, someone loudly asked: “How do we judge? Even if Heaven spoke, we commoners wouldn’t hear it! Would it really send down a god from the sky?”
“I have heard that Heaven’s will often manifests through miracles. Then, I will stand here atop this platform, under everyone’s watchful eyes, to ask Heaven’s will.”
The soldiers brought two long poles, stretched a wide white cloth between them, and invited several calligraphers skilled in painting to draw, with vermilion ink, a huge eight-petaled red lotus based on the pattern on the official token.
Su Yan personally picked up a mop-like large brush, painted a big black circle around the red lotus, and wrote a large character “Fraud” inside the circle.
The poles were raised, unfolding the white cloth. The black circle and the “Fraud” character over the red lotus were especially conspicuous—visible from a hundred yards away.
Su Yan put down the brush and raised his voice: “It is said the True Void Sect’s sacred lotus mark was bestowed by Heaven. I hereby profane this sacred lotus. If Heaven has spirit, it will surely send down thunder and lightning to burn this polluted cloth and punish me.
“I will wait here on this platform for two hours, until the hour of the dog after nightfall. If true heavenly thunder strikes and fire burns, it will mean Heaven vindicates the Void Sect. If all remains calm and nothing happens, it means Heaven scorns the sect or uses me to punish this false cult.”
“What do you all think?”
“Whether this so-called ‘Buddha incarnate’ of the Void Sect can truly manifest great power, communicate with Heaven and Earth, and summon thunder—we shall see with our own eyes—”
Outside, the common people were noisy, saying all kinds of things. After finishing his words, Su Yan returned to the desk to drink tea and rest, regardless of the commotion below.
The two assistant judges stared at him—Zuo Langjun’s expression was unsettled, while Censor Chu frowned thoughtfully.
Su Yan smiled: “I have to sit here for two hours. If you two have other affairs, feel free to leave.”
Chu Qiu considered for a moment and said: “I’m curious how Lord Su’s declaration of war on the Void Sect with Heaven’s will as his sword will end. I dare to accompany you to the end.”
Zuo Guangbi, who had already stood to leave, sat back down after hearing this: “Since Censor Chu says so, I might as well patiently wait too, to see whom the thunder will strike in the end.”
The three drank tea, read books, wrote and painted quietly, without speaking.
Among the crowd, some grew impatient and began to leave; others had heard the strange news and came from all directions to watch the spectacle; still others went home for dinner, then returned with stools, peanuts, melon seeds, and tea to claim a good spot and wait for the result.
People climbed on the stone road, steps outside shops, between well railings, even onto rooftops, hoping to climb high and see clearly.
Night gradually fell; time passed moment by moment from the hour of the monkey to the hour of the rooster, and finally the hour of the dog.
The wind was calm, the air clear, the moon bright and stars sparse—no sign of thunder at all.
Su Yan took out a Western-style enamel pocket watch, looked at it—it was nearly nine o’clock—then stood and announced: “It seems Heaven truly scorns the Void Sect and its leader, not even willing to manifest a spark—”
Before he finished speaking, a youth in the crowd suddenly pointed to the western sky, shouting: “Look! A shooting star—”
Su Yan turned sharply and glimpsed a streak of light tearing across the night sky, rapidly flying toward the platform—no one knew what it was.
“Not a shooting star, it’s heavenly fire! The heavenly fire is coming to burn!”
“It’s a miracle!”
—It had indeed come! But it was only a desperate fight. Su Yan shouted loudly: “Archers!”
Arrows were immediately fired en masse, but none struck the streak of light.
The streak was falling toward the white cloth on the platform. At the edge of the crowd, dressed in plain clothes, Yu Wang sneered disdainfully and loosened the string on his three-stone powerful bow, releasing an arrow.
The arrow shot out, meeting the streak in midair. It did not scatter the light but instead pierced its edge, firmly nailing it to the wooden crossbeam of the street archway.
The strength and precision of this shot were nothing short of miraculous, causing Su Yan to gape in astonishment.
After the crowd recovered from their shock, they crowded around the archway. Soldiers formed a human wall, opening a path for Su Yan to enter.
Zuo Guangbi and Chu Qiu also recovered from their surprise and followed in to see for themselves.
Everyone looked up. The object nailed by the arrow was a strange big raven-shaped device, with fire-soaked cloth still burning on its back and wings. Its belly was tied with two tubes of gunpowder. The perfectly aimed arrow had avoided the gunpowder tubes and pierced through the wing, pinning it to the wood.
Seeing the gunpowder tubes, the crowd recoiled in fear.
Su Yan chuckled and said to the crowd: “Come and see, this is a firearm used by our Great Ming army, called the ‘Divine Fire Flying Crow.’ It uses the thrust of the ignited fire to shoot the crow over a hundred yards away. When the crow lands or touches an object, the gunpowder inside ignites and explodes. Doesn’t the explosion sound just like thunder striking?
“—Since we can’t get miracles from Heaven, we use the ‘Divine Fire Flying Crow’ to fake them. The Void Sect is really painstakingly clever!”
After a brief silence, someone shouted loudly: “Fraud cult!”
Immediately, responses arose one after another:
“False religion!”
“Evil cult!”
“Killed so many people, d*mn the Void Sect!”
“Fraudulent cult!”
“Fraudulent cult!”
The three words “fraudulent cult” finally merged into a unified, roaring chorus that echoed for a long time over the streets and alleys of the East Market. The lantern light on both sides of the road illuminated one angry face after another.
Su Yan’s gaze passed over the archway behind, and by the stone lion beside the steps, he saw Yu Wang drawing his bow. Yu Wang shook the strong bow in his hand, raised his sharp eyebrows, and gave a lazy smile.
“Showing off!” Su Yan commented silently.
…Though, it was quite a stylish show.
