BXG - 38

◎ The Chess Match ◎

However, the next day, Boss Ai found Zhen’er, Lady Liu’s runaway maid, who had been hiding in North Street. Secretly, he sent her to the Ministry of Justice. After signing in, Qu You went straight to the study. Zhou Tan had already finished interrogating the witness and was solemnly examining the confession. Seeing her enter, he handed it over.

Qu You took it and read carefully. Zhen’er had been Lady Liu’s personal maid since childhood, sharing a deep bond with her. The confession detailed everything from when Liu Lianxi first met Du Gaojun until her death, shaking Qu You to her core.

Coincidentally, Liu Lianxi’s first encounter with Du Gaojun happened at the same chuiwan game where she became acquainted with Qu You and Gao Yunyue. Du Gaojun, a master seducer, won her heart with just a few words.

Only after returning home did she learn that he was infamous in Bian Capital as a womanizer, notorious for frequenting brothels, with a reputation too tarnished for marriage prospects. She resolved to cut ties, but fate intervened—while visiting Xi Qing Temple with her mother, they were ambushed by bandits. Fortunately, Du Gaojun appeared with his servants, rescuing them.

Zhen’er’s anger mirrored Qu You’s feelings while reading the confession. She immediately suspected this “bandit attack” was orchestrated by Du Gaojun, though evidence was lacking. Coincidentally, another noblewoman witnessed Du Gaojun’s heroic rescue of Liu Lianxi.

Rumors spread, leaving the Liu family no choice but to approve the marriage. Despite Liu Lianxi’s resistance, she eventually wed him. The early days, even through the return visit, seemed peaceful. But Du Gaojun couldn’t hide his true nature for long. Claiming he wanted to take her maidservant as a concubine, he caused a scene. From then on, Liu Lianxi’s life in the Du household became unbearable, plunging her into despair.

To stay by her mistress’s side, Zhen’er deliberately disfigured herself. Du Gaojun initially felt some fleeting affection for Liu Lianxi but soon reverted to form, taking over ten concubines and abusing her physically and emotionally.

Unwilling to endure, Liu Lianxi secretly uncovered the truth: Du Gaojun’s father, Du Hui, a Left Censor, valued his reputation and sought a wife for his son who was virtuous, well-regarded, and easily controlled. Du Gaojun chose her at the chuiwan game.

Upon learning this, Liu Lianxi feigned compliance while gathering evidence against both father and son, planning to bring them down. Though Zhen’er wasn’t privy to specifics, six months ago, their actions were discovered. Liu Lianxi narrowly escaped death and subtly sought help from her mother.

But Lady Liu failed to grasp her daughter’s plight, advising her to endure silently.

According to Zhen’er, realizing she couldn’t rely on her family, Liu Lianxi made up her mind—regardless of reputation or future, she would drag the Du family into hell with her.

She resolved to kill her husband and then commit suicide.

This plan was highly secretive; only Zhen’er knew. Even the poison was prepared by her. They intended to act one night, but Du Gaojun got drunk and knocked over the poisoned antidote.

Zhen’er had to prepare more. When she returned, neither were in the room.

That night, amidst thunder and rain, she saw Du Gaojun wielding a stick crossing the corridor while Liu Lianxi stumbled into the rain. Terrified, Zhen’er hid in the lotus pond. Soon, heavy footsteps crossed the wooden bridge above, followed hours later by cries that the lady had fallen into a well.

Zhen’er escaped through an underground waterway and fled to North Street’s beggars, where Boss Ai eventually found her.

After finishing the deposition, Qu You looked up at Zhou Tan, who was absently rubbing a wooden box. Meeting her gaze, he opened it, revealing a slightly worn key.

“What is this?” Qu You asked.

“After the coroner’s examination, the initial conclusion was overturned,” Zhou Tan replied. “Though there were ligature marks on her neck, Lady Liu drowned. This object… was retrieved from her body. Before drowning, she swallowed this key.”

Something she protected with her dying breath must be crucial, though what secret she guarded remained unclear.

Zhou Tan set the box down, his finger tracing the confession. “This maid’s testimony implicates Du Gaojun in Liu’s murder, but I can’t submit this statement.”

Qu You quickly understood, feeling bitterness on her tongue, making speech difficult. “As per the fourth volume of Yin’s penal code, killing one’s wife results in imprisonment and exile; plotting against one’s husband leads to lingchi and decapitation. Submitting this statement would result in Du Gaojun facing punishment akin to Peng Yue, while Liu’s family would suffer.”

“I remember what you told Liang An before he died—you said, ‘Not that he’s innocent, but that the law is unjust.’” Zhou Tan pressed his temples, tiredly saying, “Now that you’re in the Ministry of Justice, if you could revise the law, how would you proceed?”

Without hesitation, Qu You replied, “They’ve enjoyed privileges far beyond others. Seeking justice without evidence costs lives. Though Lianxi was a weak woman, she never surrendered, striving to save herself, yet ultimately succumbed… The law should protect the vulnerable.”

Zhou Tan’s fingers stiffened. “The law is impartial. I thought you merely sought fairness. How can you speak of protection?”

Qu You stated, “Equal treatment ignoring differences doubly harms the weak.”

Realizing her words might have gone too far, she fell silent, unable to retract them. Reflecting on centuries of feminist struggle, discussing differential equality here felt absurdly laughable.

Lost in thought, she lowered her head to reread the document. Zhou Tan gave a noncommittal hum as a knock sounded outside. Qu You opened the door to find He San respectfully waiting. Surprised to see her again in male attire, he hesitated, “Master…”

Zhou Tan said, “Speak.”

He San relayed, “Lord Fu requests your presence for a casual chess discussion.”

Bowing, he retreated. Encountering Qu You twice in Zhou Tan’s private quarters likely left him speculating. However, she had no time to dwell on it. Zhou Tan brushed his sleeves, offering a faint smile—cool and distant.

Handing her the box with the key, he whispered, “Keep this safe, pretend it doesn’t exist, mention it to no one. Return home and avoid the Ministry recently. Remember the item I left you last time—it should still be intact.”

With that, he left the study, leaving Qu You alone. Looking at the simple wooden box, she recalled something, tucked it safely away, and exited.

The autumn air was cool, leaves scattered lightly in the courtyard. Her official boots crunched softly as she walked.

A bowed maid led Zhou Tan into the inner chamber where Fu Qingnian was playing chess by the window.

Dusk enveloped the room, golden sunset hues bathed the paper screens, incense wafted gently. The maid withdrew, leaving silence.

Over fifty, Fu Qingnian remained spirited. Turning to Zhou Tan at the door, he smiled, gesturing for him to sit opposite. “Xiaobai, you’ve arrived.”

Zhou Tan bowed respectfully, “Lord Fu, greetings.”

“How well I fare these days, Xiaobai surely knows,” Fu Qingnian chuckled. “Remember breaking that stalemate with me and your teacher at Helan Pavilion after your palace exam? That brilliant move remains unforgettable. We haven’t played since, have we?”

Zhou Tan settled across, placing a white piece, indifferent. “Lord Fu governs myriad affairs daily. Besides, I merely got lucky back then, undeserving of praise.”

Within three moves, he captured a cluster of black pieces. Fu Qingnian removed them one by one, unperturbed. “Just pieces. Eaten, they’re gone. Not important ones either. Don’t grow complacent after three moves, Xiaobai.”

“Naturally.”

They resumed their calm game. Fu Qingnian played methodically, while Zhou Tan appeared impatient, aggressive in his moves.

Fu Qingnian shook his head. “Your style has changed significantly. Youthful passion is commendable, but don’t rely solely on it—it harms both self and others.”

In two deft moves, he shifted the tense board in his favor. Zhou Tan moved swiftly, undeterred. “Lord Fu, High Chancellor, and my teacher—all scholars of the same year. Now the departed rest, the living contend, survival of the fittest. Speak not of harm—it’s mutual destruction.”

The board formed a clever symmetry. Fu Qingnian raised an eyebrow, smiling warmly, yet his words carried deeper meaning. “I heard you attended the governor’s autumn banquet with the crown prince. Did you enjoy the hundred rare chrysanthemums at the Gao residence?”

Unexpectedly, Zhou Tan shook his head, remaining silent. Surprised, Fu Qingnian continued, “Knowing the crown prince isn’t destined for greatness, why oppose me so?”

Holding a piece, Zhou Tan gazed past the window at the fading sunset, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “The Drum of Appeals resounds across court and country. Lord Fu, how many petitions have you heard?”

Fu Qingnian replied gently, “All have reached my ears.”

Zhou Tan turned to face him. “Peng Yue, when promoted from Ruozhou to Bian Capital, faced accusations of poor character. Early in the Penal Department, I observed him closely—he’s talented but immoral. Lord Fu, once heralded as a leader of the upright, why promote such a man?”

Fu Qingnian sighed, holding a black piece. “You’re too young.”

“Politics is inherently sordid maneuvering. Some uphold clean reputations, others serve as dirty stepping stones. Both balance, each taking what they need. You dream of a clear world, of people without desires—”

He placed his piece: “A fool’s dream.”

“Lord Fu errs. I understand human desires, never envisioned a court of saints. My teacher… understood this well.” Zhou Tan’s tone chilled. “Even so, one shouldn’t sacrifice commoners’ blood for power. At least High Chancellor grasps this.”

“Do you think his hands are clean?” Fu Qingnian sneered. “Your teacher was clean, but did cleanliness prolong his life? You pride yourself on integrity, immersed in the Penal Department since escaping prison. Who mourns for you? Fighting for impoverished women, sacrificing much, enduring slander, risking your life—will anyone vindicate you a hundred, a thousand years hence?”

Zhou Tan sat rigidly, his eyelashes trembling, yet his hand placing pieces remained steady.

“I seek no vindication. Upholding righteousness, I act without guilt.”

Fu Qingnian mockingly shook his head, lowering his gaze, struggling to smile. Unbeknownst to him, Zhou Tan’s seemingly reckless moves had woven a web, trapping him in a losing position. Only upon Zhou Tan’s final move did Fu realize the inevitable checkmate.

Zhou Tan rose to leave, neither arrogant nor overly respectful, his icy resolve evident in his eyes.

“Lord Fu, I concede. Farewell.”

At the door, Fu Qingnian overturned the board, scattering pieces with a clatter. “Merely a game…”

“Not so,” Zhou Tan didn’t turn, picking up a fallen black piece, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “That first match at Helan Pavilion—you lost to me then. The outcome is decided; no need for another game.”