Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Inside Story

The glow of the setting sun painted half the sky crimson, its gentle light caressing all things beneath it—how undeserving were the sentient beings of such suffering?

Ji Changge walked out of the Supreme Court in silence, Wen Jing following close behind. The two walked one after the other; for Wen Jing, this was the first time she truly sensed the darkness of the ancient officialdom. Such a thing would be unthinkable in modern times—a case with so many unresolved doubts, yet with nothing but a dubious blood-written letter, it could be hastily closed. It was utterly absurd.

A carriage approached slowly and stopped before Ji Changge. The coachman dismounted and addressed them, “My master invites you both to his residence for a conversation.”

Ji Changge and Wen Jing exchanged a glance. This coachman was a stranger to them.

Seeing their suspicion, the coachman continued, “My master said he has important matters to discuss. He asks you to come without fail.”

Ji Changge considered for a moment. “Seventh Lady, you head home first. I’ll go see what this is about.”

“Since I am also invited, there’s no harm in going,” Wen Jing replied calmly.

“Please, both of you.”

The carriage wound through the streets for about the time it takes for incense to burn before coming to a halt. Ji Changge lifted the curtain and saw they had stopped before the residence of Grand Scholar Wang. At that moment, the scholar himself was stepping out of a sedan chair. Ji Changge hurried out to greet him.

“Master, why is it you?” Ji Changge bowed.

Wang Xuelin stroked his beard with a smile. “Why shouldn’t it be me? I was planning to visit the Supreme Court, but upon seeing there was a ‘distinguished guest’ there, I thought it better to invite you both here instead.”

Ji Changge couldn’t help but laugh—so it was all a false alarm. This old rascal never forgot his mischievous ways.

“Greetings, Grand Scholar Wang,” Wen Jing said, saluting.

“No need for formality. Let’s talk inside.” The wrinkles on Wang’s face deepened with his grin when he saw Wen Jing.

“Grandfather, you’re still not recovered, why are you running about?” Wang Erlang came forward.

Wang Xuelin glared at him. “Sitting at home recuperating every day is dreadfully dull. If I stay cooped up any longer, I’ll go mad!”

“But the Imperial Physician said you mustn’t exert yourself,” Wang Erlang protested.

“You impudent boy, always meddling. Do you see me overexerting myself?” Wang Xuelin replied impatiently.

Ji Changge looked at the two with a wry smile. “Master, don’t be angry. Wang Erlang is only worried for your health.”

“You go out now. I have matters to discuss with them,” Wang Xuelin said to Wang Erlang.

Wang Erlang hesitated, glanced at Ji Changge and Wen Jing, then excused himself and withdrew.

Wang Xuelin’s smile faded, his expression growing solemn. “Let the case end here.”

Ji Changge and Wen Jing hadn’t expected their summons to concern the case—nor that Wang Xuelin would instruct them not to pursue it further.

“But, Master, why—”

As if anticipating Ji Changge’s question, Wang Xuelin waved his hand for silence. “The Emperor only wishes for the case to be resolved quickly to settle the public’s mind. As for the true culprit, that is no longer important.”

“Human life is at stake! Though Sixi is dead, the candidate arrested earlier is still alive!” Ji Changge said, anger barely suppressed.

Wang Xuelin sighed and shook his head. “Ah, you young people.”

“Is there more to this than meets the eye?” Wen Jing pressed.

Wang Xuelin considered, then decided to speak. “Factional strife has existed throughout the ages. Tell me, what is it that His Majesty most desires to see?”

“Balance,” Wen Jing replied evenly.

“Exactly. The Emperor wants mutual checks and balances between them. That’s the essence of the art of power—though its subtleties can’t be explained in a few words. As long as you understand the stakes involved.” Wang Xuelin’s tone was grave.

Ji Changge’s expression turned somber. If the Emperor wished to bury this case, there was likely no one who could bring it to light again…

“This case won’t end so easily,” Wen Jing suddenly said.

Wang Xuelin fixed her with a look. “Lady Wen, what makes you say that?”

“Master, have you forgotten—next year is the Spring Imperial Examination. As long as interests are at stake, the killer may strike again.”

Wang Xuelin nodded. Compared to the provincial exams, the metropolitan and palace exams were the true battleground.

Ji Changge’s eyes lit up. Wen Jing was right—the killer was likely to reveal himself again during the upcoming exams. Now that they knew who the culprit was, they had a clear target. Qiu Xi, I will see your true face and avenge life with life.

“To make the Emperor admit a mistake is no easy task. You must be sure—failure could cost your heads,” Wang Xuelin warned in a hushed voice.

Ji Changge smiled. “That’s not so hard. His Majesty is quite proud, likening himself to the sage-kings Yao and Shun. But if he could see the truth with his own eyes in front of the court, he couldn’t simply ignore it. That way, we needn’t argue endlessly.”

Wang Xuelin shook his head with a bitter smile. “Still too young. Do you think the Emperor will yield so easily? Remember when Chu Chaoyi publicly pointed out a mistake in the Emperor’s memorial? He was praised on the spot, but soon after was sent to oversee repairs on the Great Wall in Shanxi. When he returned, I barely recognized him.”

Wen Jing and Ji Changge’s faces twitched. A chill ran down their spines. This Emperor was truly petty, and they had the audacity to expect him to admit fault? That was tantamount to offering their own necks to the executioner...

Seeing their expressions, Wang Xuelin chuckled. “Frightened, are you? No need. After all, you call him uncle. If he lays a hand on you, the Princess Royal would never stand for it.”

Ji Changge blushed. He had no way to handle this mischievous old man, who lacked the slightest sense of decorum befitting a grand scholar.

Wen Jing couldn’t help but laugh. What an amusing elder.

Knock, knock.

“Grandfather, Wang Jue has come to bid you farewell,” came Wang Erlang’s voice from outside.

“Let him in.”

The door opened and Wang Jue was wheeled in by a maid, his face dark as water.

“Grandfather, I have come to say farewell. I have let you down,” Wang Jue said, bowing.

“It’s not your fault. Ah…” Wang Xuelin sounded regretful. If Wang Jue could become top scholar in next year’s imperial exams, he could persuade the Emperor to grant him special recognition, honoring his talent. Because of Sixi’s death, Wang Jue was cleared of suspicion due to his leg injury, but his resolve to leave was clear.

Wang Jue glanced at Ji Changge, his gaze as sharp as a blade.

“Regarding Sixi’s death, I owe you and him an apology,” Ji Changge said.

Wang Jue gave a bitter laugh without answering, grief flickering in his eyes. Sixi was more than a servant to him; he was like family, like a friend. Wang Jue had always been withdrawn and reclusive—without Sixi, he might not have survived this long, no matter his talents.

“I know you blame me. I will see that you and Sixi are given justice,” Ji Changge continued.

“Justice? Wasn’t it you who had Sixi arrested without weighing the facts?” Wang Jue replied coldly. If not for Grand Scholar Wang’s presence, he would have argued with this young lord on the spot.

Ji Changge fell silent. He could not escape responsibility—Sixi’s death had been unforeseen. He had planned to clear Sixi’s name once the real culprit was caught.

“Master Wang, could you not remain and continue with the examinations?” Wen Jing asked.

Wang Jue stared at Wen Jing for a moment, then forced out three words: “Impossible.”

“What if I said I could cure your leg?”

Wen Jing smiled. Sure enough, Wang Jue’s expression wavered.

“What are the odds?” he asked coldly.

“Thirty percent,” Wen Jing answered evenly.

Wang Jue was silent.

“Stay. If you can be cured before next year’s Spring Examination, you’ll be the top scholar,” Wang Xuelin said delightedly. If Wang Jue’s injury could be healed, there would be no contest for first place.

“Don’t you want to do something for Sixi?” Wen Jing pressed.

Wang Jue looked up, his gaze lost. He had always relied on Sixi. He saw himself as useless, unable even to go where he wished—how could he do anything for Sixi?

The room fell silent as all awaited his decision.

“I’ll stay,” Wang Jue finally said.

“Good. Tomorrow I’ll send someone to escort you back to the exam hall. Once the autumn examination ends, you can focus on your recovery. That way, I can answer to your parents,” Wang Xuelin said, gazing into the distance.

“Thank you, Grandfather, for your trouble,” Wang Jue replied.

“Go rest now. Continue the exam tomorrow,” Wang Xuelin said, waving at Wang Erlang to escort him out.

Wang Erlang nodded to Wen Jing, then led Wang Jue away.

As they left, Wen Jing turned to Grand Scholar Wang. “May I ask, when will my father be released?”

“It should be soon. But who knows how the Emperor will deal with your father. His will is unpredictable, but I will plead on his behalf. You needn’t worry,” Wang Xuelin reassured her.

Wen Jing breathed a sigh of relief. The grand scholar’s words carried weight; now that the case was closed, the Emperor likely wouldn’t make things difficult for her father.

After expressing her thanks, Wen Jing took her leave, returning home. Ji Changge also returned to the Supreme Court; there were many matters awaiting his attention.

Wang Erlang watched as Wen Jing boarded her carriage, standing there long after it had vanished down the road.

“Ouch!” Wang Erlang suddenly felt a sharp pain on his head and cried out softly.

“Grandfather, why did you hit me?”

“To knock some sense into that block of wood you call a head! If you like her, buy her a gift, visit her more often. Don’t just stand there staring after her when she’s already gone,” Wang Xuelin sighed. His grandson had the kindest heart but was also the densest. If he could marry Seventh Lady, he’d have a virtuous wife—but this blockhead hadn’t a clue. Compared to Ji Changge, his student, he was inferior in looks, talent—and if he wasn’t more attentive, how could he ever compete?

Wang Erlang flushed scarlet, opening his mouth but unable to speak. After a long pause, he said, “My teacher says men and women should not give or receive things privately. I’m not even engaged to Lady Wen yet—how can I give her gifts in private, Grandfather, you—”

“Nonsense!” Wang Xuelin rewarded his grandson with another flick on the head, then stormed off, muttering that he could no longer be bothered with this pedantic block of wood who was even more old-fashioned than himself. (To be continued…)