Chapter 6: A Mistake in the Melody (Part Five)

◎ Coercion ◎

The criminal justice system of the Great Yin Dynasty was divided among three institutions: the Ministry of Justice, the Temple of Punishments, and the Censorate. Throughout history, the Ministry of Justice held the most authority and handled the heaviest workload, and this dynasty was no exception.

Qu You still remembered that The History of Yin: Penal Code devoted extensive passages to recording the struggles within the Ministry of Justice throughout the dynasties. The seal of the Vice Minister of Justice was worth more than a thousand pieces of gold, and countless people had died vying for it.

Liang An’s casual demeanor masked his true intent—he was after the position of Vice Minister. He likely assumed she was ignorant, which emboldened him to act so brazenly.

Seeing her silence, Liang An believed he had hit the mark and confidently smirked. “I came here respectfully to request the seal because I respect you, Lady. If you refuse to hand it over, then I’ll have no choice but to take it myself.”

Uncle De’s earlier panic stemmed not only from Liang An’s arrival but also from the sight of the dozen private soldiers accompanying him.

Though soldiers weren’t allowed inside the residence, they were stationed discreetly at the gate, signaling that Liang An had come prepared.

Liang An was merely a subordinate of Zhou Tan, the second-in-command of the Ministry of Justice. Bringing servants would have been understandable, but bringing private troops? Wasn’t he afraid of being reported for colluding with military forces or showing disrespect to his superior?

Holding her teacup, Qu You quickly analyzed the situation.

In the Great Yin Dynasty, the divide between civil and military officials was stark. Not only did scholars and generals look down on each other, but personal connections between them were rare. Except for high-ranking generals and members of the royal family, all officials were forbidden from maintaining private armies. For Liang An to openly bring soldiers to demand the seal…

There were only two possibilities.

First, he had received tacit approval from someone with direct access to the Ministry of Personnel—likely one of the current prime minister or chief councillor, as they were the only ones daring enough to make such a move. Second, he was aligned with one of the princes, using this opportunity to eliminate obstacles and seize control of the Ministry of Justice.

However, both scenarios hinged on one crucial premise: Emperor De had already assumed Zhou Tan would die and decided not to intervene further.

At this thought, Qu You’s heart began to race uncontrollably.

The factional struggles of the Great Yin Dynasty were notoriously brutal. Since the power struggles of the previous dynasty’s chief ministers, the toxic atmosphere had persisted for over forty years until Gu Zhiyan became prime minister and somewhat alleviated it.

Unfortunately, Emperor De couldn’t tolerate Gu Zhiyan’s dominance.

Zhou Tan betrayed his mentor to secure the position of Vice Minister of Justice—a desperate survival tactic for himself, though it was trivial to Emperor De. Zhou Tan sought to become an isolated official, but Emperor De needed to assess his worth first.

A chill crept up her spine. Though Qu You had studied countless historical records, this was her first time personally experiencing the ruthless art of imperial politics and the cutthroat factional struggles.

This must have been the hardest period for Zhou Tan—alone in the Ministry of Justice, unaffiliated with any faction. The emperor wanted to test his usefulness but chose to remain hands-off. Meanwhile, various factions coveted his position, eyeing it greedily and resorting to underhanded tactics.

It dawned on her that Zhou Tan’s assassination attempt on the street might very well have been orchestrated by those backing Liang An.

They struck first, then worried that Zhou Tan’s injuries were feigned. Thus, they tested him repeatedly, even arranging this marriage meant to bring him good fortune.

Now, confident that Zhou Tan was gravely injured and practically declared dead, Liang An boldly arrived to claim the seal, emboldened by the backing of higher powers.

In the blink of an eye, Qu You pieced together the entire situation. Yet, despite her clarity, she found herself utterly powerless to respond.

She didn’t know who supported Liang An, but Zhou Tan’s household lacked private troops, and no officials in court stood by him. Liang An’s brazen, thuggish approach to seizing the seal was based on this certainty.

Once he obtained the seal, the Ministry of Justice would undergo a complete upheaval. Emperor De had ways to manipulate the balance of power among court factions, while Zhou Tan would be discarded like a useless pawn.

In other words, if the seal changed hands, Zhou Tan would be as good as dead—even if he survived physically.

Liang An couldn’t possibly leave with the seal today; otherwise, history would be rewritten.

Yet, even knowing the outcome, Qu You felt helpless in the face of the present predicament.

For now, she could only stall for time and observe any potential openings. “Lord Liang, you are my husband’s colleague, and I trust you. Though I don’t understand your affairs, I know the item you seek is no ordinary object.”

Liang An patiently replied, “Lady, there’s no need to ask too much. I’m aware you’re newly wed and likely don’t know where it is. No matter—it will suffice if I search myself. Just step aside, and rest assured I won’t hold you accountable afterward.”

His explanation clarified why he had bothered to visit politely.

Though his actions had likely been tacitly permitted, the Zhou residence now housed not only Zhou Tan but also her. If she raised a fuss and accused him of trespassing, she could escalate the matter significantly.

Such escalation would be difficult to contain and might implicate those behind Liang An.

But she had neither reason nor standing to act thus. Assuming her to be a sheltered woman ignorant of worldly matters beyond poetry and romance, Liang An went through the motions of courtesy to resolve the issue peacefully.

Qu You exhaled slowly, choosing her words carefully. “Are you suggesting a search of the residence?”

“Why phrase it so harshly?” Liang An denied it. “I’m merely retrieving something. Once found, I’ll leave. Lady, you’ve been married for five or six days—you must understand Zhou’s condition. Why cling to this dying man’s dignity?”

As he spoke, he rose and approached the screen, his tone growing increasingly lewd. “Lady, marrying him for his recovery is truly a waste of your beauty. If he dies, who knows how long you’ll wait for the emperor’s decree to remarry? Your reputation will surely suffer. My son has told me of your brilliance at the Flower Planting Banquet years ago—I’m quite smitten. Why not find yourself a new protector?”

Qu You froze, fury surging within her.

This shameless old lecher!

Struggling to suppress her anger, she forced out a reply through gritted teeth. “You needn’t concern yourself with that. I cannot permit a search of the residence. Please leave, Lord Liang.”

She added, “If you insist, I’ll have no choice but to escalate the matter to the Temple of Punishments and the Censorate. Lord Liang, please understand.”

Unprepared for her response, Liang An paused mid-step before bursting into laughter, seemingly amused. “Lady, you jest. The Temple of Punishments? The Censorate? Even if they had the chance to intervene, do you, a mere woman and Zhou Tan’s family member, think anyone would listen to you?”

As Liang An reached to push aside the screen, Qu You instinctively grabbed the teacup from the table and hurled it. Hearing the commotion, Uncle De rushed in, only to be kicked to the ground by Liang An.

With booming confidence, Liang An bellowed, “Seal the gates! Search!”

The Xinji Hall was left wide open. Qu You heard the clashing of weapons outside and, without hesitation, ran through the back door to Songfeng Pavilion, where Zhou Tan lay recuperating in what had been their bridal chamber.

She slammed the door shut, bracing herself against it, panting as she glanced toward the inner room.

The screen by the bed remained as it had been during their wedding, adorned with pomegranates, geese, mandarin ducks, and peach blossoms.

Biting her lip, she forced herself to calm down and rapidly calculated her next move.

This shouldn’t be happening. Why was Liang An behaving this way? Did he truly believe he could avoid repercussions if this escalated?

Moments later, footsteps approached behind her. Holding her breath, she heard Liang An’s menacing voice at the door. “Lady, don’t force my hand. While protecting your husband is natural, consider your future carefully.”

Qu You forced herself to remain composed, replying coldly, “And if I insist on protecting him?”

“Insist?” Liang An showed no trace of the apprehension she had expected. Smirking, he repeated, “Then let me enlighten you. Once I secure the seal, I’ll send you and your beloved husband to the afterlife together. He’ll succumb to his wounds, and you’ll follow as a devoted widow. Word will spread, ruining your father’s career. Perhaps he’ll emulate you and file a complaint with the Censorate?”

“Oh, wait—he’s still rotting in the Ministry of Justice dungeon, isn’t he?”

Qu You realized she had underestimated the cunning of these court manipulators.

Her earlier confusion vanished as clarity struck: Liang An’s insistence wasn’t born of fear but of convenience. Her death would be nothing more than an inconvenience to these power players, who excelled at covering up murders confined within private residences.

Deciding swiftly, Qu You immediately backtracked. “Lord Liang, there’s no need for this. Search the residence—I won’t pursue it…”

Before she could finish, Liang An kicked the door open.

Thrown off balance, Qu You tumbled heavily to the floor. Glancing toward the doorway, she saw no sign of Uncle De or Nanny Yun.

They had likely been detained.

What to do? What to do?

Would history be rewritten? Had her presence here disrupted the delicate balance of events?

Liang An loomed over her, his squinting eyes gleaming with malice amidst his grotesque features. Meeting his gaze, Qu You easily detected a fleeting mix of astonishment and ill intent. “Too late to change your tune, Lady?”

She had misjudged him entirely, assuming he harbored some fear. Now she realized he had come prepared to silence anyone in his way. She should have conceded from the start.

Collapsing onto the floor, Qu You retreated further into the shadows near the door, her gauzy pink dress trailing behind her, leaving streaks of color on the ground.

“Zhou Tan is here,” she said, cold sweat dripping from her brow onto her fingers. “Have you considered… perhaps he’s already awake?”

Liang An sneered, slamming the door shut and advancing toward her. “Oh, if he’s awake, let him rise. Why lie there pretending to be dead?”

“You insolent brat, daring to tread on my authority in the Ministry of Justice! You’re as foolish as him. But I’ll show you mercy.”

His gaze flickered with excitement and lewdness as he leered at her. “I pity your youth and beauty. Why not follow me? Surely better than widowing yourself for Zhou Tan. On your wedding night, no less—you probably don’t even know what a man is. Let me teach you…”

Qu You was revolted, her face pale as she struggled to her feet. Retreating further, her hand fumbled across the table, finally finding the scissors she vaguely recalled from Nanny Yun’s sewing basket.

She was strategizing how to strike without being noticed when suddenly, Liang An’s smug grin froze on his face.

He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, his arrogance vanishing in an instant, followed by uncontrollable facial twitches.

Following his gaze, Qu You saw a figure standing silently behind the screen.

A chilling, icy voice emanated from behind her. It was soft, calm, yet sent shivers down Liang An’s spine.

“…Presumptuous.”