Chapter 7: A Mistake in the Melody (VI)

Awakening

Zhou Tan faintly heard the sound of suona horns as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Was this a joyful tune or a mournful dirge? His mind was muddled.

The clinking of chains echoed in his ears, and in his daze, he felt as though he had returned to that day when heavy shackles were placed upon him. It had snowed that day, and he, along with a group of friends, had been thrown into the dim confines of the imperial prison.

“Xiao Bai!”

Gu Zhiyan called out his name through the cold iron bars, his face etched with anguish as tears streamed down his wrinkled cheeks.

“Teacher…”

Zhou Tan struggled to open his mouth, wanting to say, “I’m fine,” but he lacked even the strength to speak. In the distance, chilling screams and sobs rang out.

“The teacher spoke truly—Burning Candle Tower… cannot be rebuilt. If it rises, reputations will crumble. I bow twice, vowing never to change my stance!”

At first, there had been many people in the cell. He remembered some of his former classmates, the upright and incorruptible censor who always stood firm, and his superior from when he first entered office. Their faces were blurred, but their eyes burned with determination.

“Brother Zhou, do you have any wishes?”

“In my youth, I hoped for peace and tranquility. Later, I wished for the safety and well-being of my family. After passing the imperial exams, I aspired to rise above others, to achieve great things and secure a century of stability and prosperity for Da Yin.”

“Our aspirations should be thus: a gentleman holds steadfast to his principles, unafraid of being ground down.”

Three days later, he saw the young scholar who had spoken to him earlier, now piled beneath a blood-soaked wall in the imperial prison. Rotten flesh and bones intertwined; he stumbled and caught sight of a familiar hand protruding from the decay before realizing whose remains they were.

His stomach churned, but he couldn’t even vomit.

“Xiao Bai, remember what I told you…”

“…”

“A gentleman holds steadfast, unafraid…”

“Master… I am willing to compose an ode for His Majesty’s new tower.”

Zhou Tan was bound to a blood-stained wooden frame, facing a eunuch whose expression hovered between a smirk and a sneer.

Someone struck his shoulder, then removed a long, thick iron nail. The angle was cruel—it pierced through the gap between his shoulder blades, causing excruciating pain, yet it bled little and wasn’t fatal.

One by one, the nails fell to the ground, and he was cast aside like a lifeless object, thrown heavily onto the floor. After a long while, someone forced him to kneel before a desk. Trembling, Zhou Tan gripped a brush tightly, dipped it in his own blood, and wrote the first sentence:

“In the fifteenth year of Yongning, the Emperor erected Burning Candle Tower at the eastern gate. This year marks the beginning of purity and renewal, a time of万象更新 (wànxiàng gēngxīn – all things renewed).”

The sound of the suona grew louder and clearer in his mind. He closed his eyes, feeling fingers gently brush across his nose, accompanied by a woman’s sigh.

“Pity…”

The scene shifted. Zhou Tan raised his head groggily, the sunlight blinding as he walked down the street clad in the crimson robes of the Ministry of Justice, as if wrapped in the blood of his colleagues.

A child tripped and fell before him, crying out in pain, ignored by passersby. Instinctively, he reached out, lifting the child as he had countless times before, brushing the dust from their knees. Before he could speak, a dull thud struck his chest.

A short dagger pierced through his torso. The child giggled eerily, mocking him in a childish voice: “You deserve to die.”

His hands were soaked in blood, staining his already crimson official robe an even deeper red.

But… I can’t die yet!

He jolted awake to the sound of someone kicking the door.

Qu You loosened her grip on the scissors, turning to see a pair of indifferent amber eyes.

Zhou Tan, draped in the bright red wedding robe he had kept beside him, pressed a hand to the wound on his chest. Standing behind the screen, he looked at her with a hint of confusion.

Liang An stammered: “M-Master Zhou…”

Qu You noticed the slight sway in Zhou Tan’s figure and quickly moved to support him.

Zhou Tan glanced at her but didn’t refuse her help. In a tone neither warm nor cold, he addressed Liang An: “Are you here to visit me? Or are you spouting nonsense in my room because you think I’m already dead?”

“Your subordinate wouldn’t dare!” Liang An’s legs gave way, and he knelt directly behind the screen. Moments ago, he had been arrogant and overbearing, but now he trembled more than if he’d seen a ghost.

Zhou Tan had only been in the Ministry of Justice for three months, yet he had swiftly resolved five long-standing major cases. Though he appeared as a handsome young man, his actions were ruthless, earning him fear and respect.

Liang An, crouched on the ground, thought frantically. So he hadn’t died after all! Lying low at home for so many days, perhaps he had been waiting for today—waiting for Liang An to walk right into his trap.

“Take your men and leave,” Zhou Tan said in a low voice. “I won’t hold it against you today, but send someone to deliver the recent case files from the Ministry of Justice to my residence.”

Liang An remained kneeling, his mind racing with thousands of thoughts. He cautiously raised his head, looking at the figure behind the screen.

After all, everyone already said Zhou Tan was dying—

If he seized control of the seal today, would Zhou Tan spare him tomorrow? Since that was the case, why not take the risk and finish him off now? Even if he killed him, people would only assume Zhou Tan succumbed to his injuries. Right?

He could set a fire afterward. Even if suspicions arose, no evidence would remain.

Liang An’s resolve hardened. Taking a deep breath, he mustered his courage, rose from the ground, and said, “Master, there is one more matter…”

He approached the screen. Qu You watched his advancing figure, sensing unmistakable malice in his tone.

Suddenly, she realized: only the three of them knew Zhou Tan had awakened. If Liang An killed him now, he could still claim Zhou Tan had died of illness later.

She instinctively turned to look at Zhou Tan. His gaze was deep, the veins on the back of his hand gripping the wedding robe visibly taut, yet he neither spoke nor moved.

Liang An slowly drew his sword, and Qu You even heard the sharp whistle of the blade slicing through the air.

At the critical moment, the closed door behind him burst open with a kick.

Qu You heard a brash, youthful voice: “Who do you think you are? How dare you stop me from entering this estate! Are you one of Zhou Tan’s lapdogs? So loyal!”

Had Zhou Yang barged into the residence at this moment?

Liang An flinched, hastily sheathing his sword. Zhou Yang scrutinized him disdainfully, sneering, “You people from the Ministry of Justice reek of blood. Just looking at you makes me sick! Take your men and get out of my sight!”

Clearly flustered, Liang An shot a hateful glance toward the screen but had no choice. He released the hilt of his sword and said, “I’ll come to visit Master another day,” before leaving the room.

As soon as he was gone, Zhou Tan collapsed, nearly falling backward. Qu You rushed to steady him and helped him sit on the floor.

Zhou Yang kicked over the screen and froze, staring incredulously at Zhou Tan sitting on the ground. His handsome face betrayed disbelief: “You… you’re actually still alive!”

Zhou Tan scoffed, showing no courtesy: “How dare you threaten an official of the Ministry of Justice? How many lives do you have?”

“I don’t know how many lives I have, but judging by your condition, you don’t even have half a life left.” Zhou Yang squatted before him, gripping the sword at his waist and mocking him. “When you added extra guards at the gate, I guessed you might have awakened. You act fast, even summoning subordinates from the Ministry of Justice. Could it be you’re afraid I’d stab you while you’re weak?”

Qu You listened, torn between laughter and exasperation. It turned out Zhou Yang had accidentally spotted the private soldiers Liang An left at the gate, suspected Zhou Tan had awakened, and barged in to investigate despite being blocked.

Unexpectedly, this resolved their predicament.

Zhou Tan coughed twice. Qu You helped him stand and said, “Had enough talking? If so, leave.”

Zhou Yang erupted in anger: “Do you think I want to stay here? I can see that even if you’ve woken up, you don’t have long to live. I’ll wait to collect your corpse!”

Fuming, he stormed out, bumping into Yun Mama, who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion. He snorted derisively, resembling a puppy whose tail had been stepped on.

Yun Mama, seeing Zhou Tan awake, wept tears of joy. After composing herself, she hurried out to summon Bai Ying.

The room was now empty except for the two of them.

Zhou Tan exhaled in relief, pressing a hand to his wound as he retreated to sit on the bed. Once he caught his breath, he said, “I need to rinse my mouth.”

Qu You was surprised but fetched water for him nonetheless.

Zhou Tan wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and looked up at the woman in pale peach-colored attire. She met his gaze without fear, raising an eyebrow in return.

Though the color peach was typically garish, the woman before him exuded a clear and elegant aura. Her eyes were bright and pure, filled with curiosity and inquiry rather than the hatred and disdain others often showed him.

There was even a sense of detachment—as if she weren’t looking at him but examining an object of interest.

Zhou Tan averted his gaze first, lowering his eyes and speaking indifferently: “Who is your father?”

Qu You was taken aback but answered earnestly: “A sixth-rank historian in the palace hall, Qu Cheng.”

“Master Qu… is still in the Ministry of Justice’s prison,” Zhou Tan paused, as if in thought. Closing his eyes, he nodded slightly. “You were betrothed to me as part of a 冲喜 (chōngxǐ – marriage to ward off bad luck), weren’t you? How many days have I been unconscious since the assassination attempt?”

“Counting today, it’s been nine days,” Qu You replied, unable to suppress her curiosity. “How did you know?”

“Before the assassination, the Emperor intended to arrange a marriage for me, but I refused every time.” Zhou Tan slowly removed the wedding robe draped over him, explaining succinctly, “While I lay here, my fate uncertain, it was the perfect opportunity to push this marriage under the guise of 冲喜. There was no one left to reject it on my behalf.”

“This marriage was instigated by Consort Gui… urging the Emperor to grant it,” Qu You elaborated helpfully. “My father is now a disgraced official, low-ranking and imprisoned for his involvement in the Burning Candle Tower case as a prominent 清流 (qīngliú – upright scholar). This marriage… is meant to humiliate you.”

“Be careful what you say!” Zhou Tan shot her a glance, his tone icy. “Both thunder and rain are expressions of the Emperor’s grace. As for you…”

He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing: “I will save your father.”

His expression remained impassive, his tone frosty, as if he were begrudgingly repaying a debt. Unwilling to elaborate further, he silenced himself. Qu You wanted to ask more questions, but Yun Mama knocked on the door.

Reluctantly setting aside her curiosity, she opened the door to let Bai Ying in to examine Zhou Tan’s pulse.

Bai Ying, summoned back just half a day after his last visit, sighed exasperatedly as he took the pulse. “I already said he would wake soon. Why bother calling me again to confirm?”

Qu You smiled. “It’s for peace of mind. By the way, do you have any medicinal recipes suitable for his recovery? Please prescribe some for me.”

Leaning against the bed, Zhou Tan lowered his eyes. His lashes cast a shadow on his lower eyelids as he spoke in his usual businesslike tone: “Thank you for saving my life. I… will repay you accordingly.”

“No need,” Bai Ying replied without looking up, biting his brush and gesturing behind him. “Thank her instead. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have come. Treating you carries high risks.”

Qu You kicked him lightly.

As night approached, after seeing Bai Ying off, Yun Mama went with Zhou Shengde to tidy up the front hall, which had been damaged earlier in the day. Qu You studied the medicinal recipes Bai Ying had left behind and decided to put them into practice immediately, conveniently solving her own dinner problem as well.

Holding the recipe, she was about to step out when Zhou Tan’s voice stopped her: “What do you want?”

Qu You froze mid-step.