A hopeless case that can never be made good

When Fu Lanchen returned to Yonghui Pavilion, Wei Yuan had already been waiting for quite some time and bowed in greeting. "Greetings, Your Highness."

Fu Lanchen flicked his sleeve, signaling him to speak.

Wei Yuan clasped his hands and said, "I went to the Prefecture Magistrate of Jingzhao, and then to the horse farm on the outskirts of the city. At last, I uncovered some information."

Fu Lanchen sat down and asked directly, "What did you find?"

Wei Yuan recounted everything he had seen and heard in detail. After about a quarter of an hour, Fu Lanchen spoke again, "So, the man that the Earl of Sincerity brought back from the southern horse farm was delivered to the Jingzhao Prefecture prison by Nian Shaoqing?"

"Yes, Your Highness. The Earl of Sincerity handed him over to the Jingzhao Prefect and then returned to his own residence. However, the Censor-in-Chief has just entered the palace, likely to report this very matter."

Fu Lanchen asked anxiously, "Is the man safe in the Jingzhao Prefecture prison?"

Wei Yuan considered for a moment. "Though the man claims to be a fugitive slave of the Marquis of Xincheng, the law is the law. Jingzhao Prefecture is under the Emperor’s nose—Xincheng Marquis would not dare overstep his bounds."

Fu Lanchen rose and paced. He wished to go to the Jingzhao Prefecture and fetch the man himself, but as Crown Prince, he should not intervene in the private affairs of ministers. At least, not until the Emperor had convened court the next day; for now, this was still considered a private matter concerning the Xincheng Marquis’s household.

"Send several trustworthy men to watch Xincheng Marquis’s every move. Go, quickly!" Fu Lanchen commanded loudly.

Wei Yuan answered in a clear voice, "At once, Your Highness," and withdrew swiftly.

Watching Wei Yuan’s departing figure, Fu Lanchen suddenly raised his head and took a deep breath. His heart surged with excitement. After so many years, the truth from the past was finally beginning to surface.

There were too many riddles surrounding the Wu Jing Marquis’s estate back then. So, let the unraveling begin with that final, devastating fire.

That morning, the Crown Prince arrived at court exceptionally early and was treated to quite a spectacle as expected. Due to certain matters, the Emperor dismissed court early and took his attendants to Tai Ning Palace.

As they walked out from Deqing Hall, Prince An said to the Crown Prince with a smile, "Truly the Emperor’s favored general—matters have reached this point, and His Majesty still preserves his dignity."

Fu Lanchen’s lips curled in a half-smile. "If you have nothing pressing, Prince An, shall we go together to Tai Ning Palace and continue to watch the drama unfold?"

Prince An let out a hearty laugh. Normally, he wouldn’t have had the leisure for such things, but today—even if he had no time, he would make time for a laugh.

"Let’s go. How could we miss the grand drama at the Xincheng Marquis’s estate?" And so, the two brothers proceeded together to Tai Ning Palace.

The Emperor sat before the dragon desk, scrutinizing once more the memorial impeaching Marquis Zhang Wei of Xincheng. Several men stood as silent as statues, the air heavy with fear.

"Minister Xu, has the guilty slave been brought today?" the Emperor asked, his voice cold as ice.

The Prefect of Jingzhao, Xu Guirong, stepped forward and bowed. "Your Majesty, the criminal slave has indeed been brought. Would Your Majesty like to summon him?"

At these words, the Emperor looked first at Xu Guirong, then at Nian Shaoqing, and finally fixed his gaze on Zhang Wei.

"Summon him," he said coldly.

The Crown Prince and Prince An stood aside, watching Zhang Wei tremble with fear, finding it all rather amusing. Since the Zhang family rose to power, Zhang Wei had always looked down on the nobles of Guangling, but when it came to the Emperor, he was petrified—a justifiable fear, for all that Zhang Wei had achieved, he owed to the Emperor’s favor.

"Criminal slave Xiao Shao, pays homage to the Emperor. Long live the Emperor, ten thousand years!" The Prefect of Jingzhao personally ushered in a middle-aged man, dark-skinned, tall, with unremarkable features, his clothes filthy and tattered from evading pursuit, and his right leg hobbling with every step.

With a slap, the Emperor flung the memorial onto the dragon desk, his gaze sharp as a blade as he measured Xiao Shao. "Speak. How did you escape from the Xincheng Marquis’s estate? Why did you run?"

Xiao Shao’s face was gaunt, and his voice so hoarse it was painful to hear, parched and nervous in the Emperor’s presence, causing him to stammer, "This slave... six years ago, I followed the General—no... now the Marquis of Xincheng. Six years ago, this slave followed the Marquis on the northern campaign against Da Xiang. I was in the vanguard, the so-called death squad. In a great battle, all my brothers perished. I was lucky, fell into a ravine, but survived, though my leg was crippled..."

The Emperor sneered, "So not only a runaway slave, but a deserter?"

Xiao Shao’s breath was shaky. He did not defend himself but forced out the words as loudly as he could, "If I hadn’t run back then, the Marquis would not have spared me." Clearly, the danger was not only on the battlefield.

The Emperor caught the hidden meaning and asked, "Explain in detail—why did the Marquis of Xincheng target a mere servant like you?"

Xiao Shao clutched his tattered robe, his eyes moist. "Because... before the Wu Jing Marquis’s household was condemned, the Marquis of Xincheng... ordered me to set fire to the Wu Jing Marquis’s library..."

Before the Emperor could respond, Zhang Wei of Xincheng dropped to his knees with a crisp thud.

"What did you say?" The Emperor seemed almost unable to believe it.

"That fire at the Wu Jing Marquis’s estate—six years ago—was set on the Marquis of Xincheng’s orders," Xiao Shao said, his voice not loud, but enough for all present to hear: the Emperor, the Crown Prince, Prince An, the Earl of Sincerity Song Ji, the Prefect of Jingzhao Xu Guirong, the Censor-in-Chief Nian Shaoqing, and the kneeling Zhang Wei.

Everyone present knew the reason why the Pei family had been sentenced to death. Arson, destruction of evidence, repeated defiance of imperial orders—such were the crimes.

Yet Xiao Shao claimed that the fire was set by him, under Zhang Wei’s command, not by the Pei family.

What a bitter revelation!

Silence fell.

And still, silence...

At last, Prince An could not hold back and demanded, "Back then, the Marquis of Xincheng was far to the north, handling the aftermath of General Feihong’s death. How could he have ordered you to burn the library? Are you trying to shift blame and falsely accuse a loyal minister to save yourself?"

He had set the stage, and now Censor-in-Chief Nian Shaoqing pressed further: "Xiao Shao, before the Emperor, you cannot utter wild accusations. If you dare frame a loyal subject, you had better confess the truth!"

Xiao Shao prostrated himself, his hoarse voice choked with emotion. "Your Majesty, this slave would never dare deceive the Emperor. It was indeed the Marquis of Xincheng who sent a letter, commanding me to burn the Wu Jing Marquis’s library."

"Evidence?" the Crown Prince interjected coldly.

"Yes, do you have evidence?" Prince An echoed.

Xiao Shao straightened up, heedless of the tears on his face, and reached trembling into his robe, producing a worn piece of cloth, which he presented to the Emperor.

"This is the cloth the Marquis of Xincheng sent me back then. I have kept it with me ever since."

Fu Lanchen took the cloth, and Prince An leaned in to study it closely, clicking his tongue. "It’s certainly old—the color is faded and dull."

The Emperor took it and set it casually on the dragon desk. Even though the writing was faded, he didn’t need to look closely to recognize Zhang Wei’s own hand.

All the evidence—living and material—was there.

"My Marquis of Xincheng, why so silent?" At last, the Emperor stopped questioning Xiao Shao and fixed his gaze on Zhang Wei, whose head remained bowed.

Zhang Wei dared not speak, afraid that any word would be the wrong one. When he heard Xiao Shao had been delivered to the Prefect of Jingzhao, he had already foreseen this day.

"Marquis of Xincheng, the Emperor has asked you a question," Prince An taunted. "How is it that your household servants can say so much, while you, the master, have not a single word? Or... is it your conscience that troubles you?"

The Emperor gazed at Zhang Wei for a long time, eyes full of bitter disappointment. At last, he sighed so softly it was barely audible, and said to all present, "Enough. I will question Zhang Wei privately. You are all dismissed."

Nian Shaoqing was the first to object. "Your Majesty, if what Xiao Shao says is true, then the Marquis of Xincheng’s actions influenced the judgment of the Pei family’s case! How can this be tried in private?" He did not distrust the Emperor, but he could not help but doubt him.

After all, a dead Pei family and a mere criminal slave counted for little in the Emperor’s eyes compared to a Marquis commanding a hundred thousand troops.

Nian Shaoqing’s words sent a shock through everyone present—truly, only a Censor-in-Chief would dare risk his head to speak this way.

The Emperor half-closed his eyes, voice weary. "Leave. Do not make me repeat myself a third time."

There was nothing for it; the others withdrew silently from Tai Ning Palace. Only the Emperor and Zhang Wei remained. Xiao Shao was returned to prison by the Prefect of Jingzhao.

Inside the hall, the Emperor said, "Speak..."

"Your servant..." Zhang Wei’s heart still struggled in vain. The Emperor had sent everyone out—did he still have a sliver of hope?

But the Emperor gave him no time to consider. "Do not quibble, do not evade, do not beg for mercy. Say plainly what you did in those years—do not make me guess, and do not force me to send the Dragon Guard to investigate."

It was clear. Zhang Wei’s last hope vanished. Staring at the Emperor on the dragon throne, unmoved as a mountain, he felt only utter despair.

"Zhang Wei, I have supported you all these years, but truly, you are mud that cannot be shaped. General Feihong’s judgment of you was not wrong."

These were the last words the Emperor spoke to Zhang Wei.

Three days later, the Emperor ordered the Crane Guard to search the Xincheng Marquis’s estate. Zhang Wei was stripped of his title and office and imprisoned to await trial. All members of the household were placed under strict house arrest.

Recently, Guangling City was shaken by a major case. Its origin was simple: the Earl of Sincerity, on a whim, went to select horses at a farm outside the city, but on the way was stopped by a strange man claiming to be a fugitive slave of the Xincheng Marquis, pursued by men in black.

The Earl of Sincerity, known for his integrity, could not in good conscience let a fugitive die in the wild. He took the man back to the city. As the carriage entered Vermilion Bird Avenue, they encountered Censor-in-Chief Nian Shaoqing.

As it happened, the Censorate had been conducting strict investigations lately. After learning the situation, the Censor-in-Chief accompanied the Earl in delivering the man to the Prefect of Jingzhao.

Ever resourceful, the Censor-in-Chief drafted an impeachment memorial within half an hour and presented it to the Emperor.

Everything unfolded smoothly, as if guided by an invisible hand.