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The public trial ended abruptly with this unexpected twist. The three judicial departments unanimously agreed that the horse trainer was innocent, though his involvement made him culpable to some extent.
Following the emperor’s directive, the presiding judge allowed the trainer a brief period to recover before preparing an excuse to exile him to the northern frontier after summer began.
Lin Zhao, on the other hand, was immediately dragged away by officials from the Ministry of Justice. Previously restrained by public opinion from applying extreme torture in Zhuque Prison, the evidence now justified proceeding according to the law.
It remained uncertain what could be extracted from Lin Zhao under interrogation.
Regardless, Marquis Fengping’s involvement was unavoidable. Perhaps Song Lan hoped to uncover more through him—such as whether Grand Tutor Yu had orchestrated this meticulously planned scheme.
As Lin Zhao was dragged away, he screamed and wailed, crying out “Innocent!” as if foreseeing his fate.
The assembly harbored varied thoughts, but most adhered to Ye Tingyan’s logic, concluding Lin Zhao was not blameless.
The sole complication arose from Chang Zhao’s counteraccusation against Ye Tingyan.
Before the Ministry of Justice could act, they awaited Song Lan’s reaction.
Song Lan gazed at Ye Tingyan with a complex expression, silent for a long while.
Finally, he asked: “Lord Ye, did you truly encounter no one who could testify for you that day? Luyun Rear Mountain is less dense than the forest—why did you shoot that arrow?”
Ye Tingyan knelt upright, his voice steady: “I saw a flower falling from a tree and impulsively shot it, forgetting to retrieve the arrow. I was indeed alone.”
Song Lan hummed softly, then suddenly turned to ask: “What does Her Majesty think?”
“Your servant thinks…”
Luo Wei clenched her sleeve, releasing it moments later as if nothing had happened. She smoothed the crease, calm as ever: “Your Majesty should avoid bias and investigate further. If Lord Ye is truly innocent, it would clear his name.”
Ye Tingyan smirked faintly, not looking up, and thanked them: “Thank you, Your Majesty and Empress, for your trust.”
Song Lan sighed: “Very well.”
With these words, officials from the Ministry of Justice approached Ye Tingyan, treating him far more respectfully than Lin Zhao: “Lord Ye, please follow us.”
Ye Tingyan responded courteously: “Thank you for your effort.”
•
After the trial concluded, Song Lan summoned Chang Zhao to Qianfang Hall. Luo Wei, restless, excused herself and took a lesser-traveled path back to the palace.
Only Yan Luo accompanied her. They wandered aimlessly along the palace paths for some time.
Yan Luo noticed her demeanor and moved to inquire, but before she could speak, a green-clad minister suddenly emerged, kneeling abruptly before Luo Wei: “Minister Pei Xi pays respects to Her Majesty.”
Startled, Yan Luo stepped forward and reprimanded: “How dare you!”
Recognizing him, Luo Wei gently lowered Yan Luo’s protective arm: “Lord Pei, what brings you here?”
They were circling behind Qionghua Hall’s garden, a place adorned with rockeries, ponds, and exotic flowers. These plants had been specially collected nationwide during the first year of Song Lan’s reign to celebrate Luo Wei’s birthday.
However, she hadn’t visited since.
The area was sparsely guarded, situated at the boundary between the rear palace and the Qiongting Pavilion. Pei Xi’s appearance here was clearly premeditated.
Younger than Ye Tingyan, Pei Xi exuded a righteous indignation. He neither groveled nor acted arrogantly, following protocol before speaking: “Lord Ye entrusted me with a message for Her Majesty.”
Luo Wei replied: “Speak.”
Pei Xi looked up at her, and she thought she glimpsed a fleeting mockery in his eyes: “Before delivering his message, I’d like to ask Her Majesty something.”
Yan Luo frowned, interjecting coldly: “Lord Pei oversteps. How could Her Majesty answer your question?”
Undeterred, Pei Xi locked eyes with Luo Wei: “Lord Ye is frail. The thirty-two methods of torture used by the Ministry of Justice are notorious. Surely Her Majesty has heard of them. Where was Lord Ye that day? Others may not know, but surely Her Majesty does. Will you let him suffer without intervention?”
Yan Luo, unaware of Luo Wei’s whereabouts that day, sensed something amiss upon hearing this.
Luo Wei’s eyelashes flickered slightly as she studied the young official: “He trusts you greatly.”
Pei Xi dismissed this: “Merely surface-level.”
“Let me guess the message Lord Pei brings,” Luo Wei said, smiling faintly. “The feathered wooden arrow… A man like him wouldn’t carry such a revealing personal item. Even if he didn’t shoot the arrow himself, wouldn’t he anticipate it implicating him if found in the forest?”
Pei Xi’s face shifted uncomfortably, muttering: “This…”
Interrupting, Luo Wei continued swiftly: “He calculated everything perfectly. Perhaps even the ‘witness’ and ‘evidence’ Scholar Chang produced were deliberately planted. Ruoshui’s sudden appearance pinned the assassination attempt on Lin Zhao seamlessly. If Ye Tingyan hadn’t implicated himself, how could he gain credibility or convince His Majesty? Such meticulous planning leaves no room for doubt.”
Lost in thought since leaving Qianfang Hall, she now pieced everything together, irritated by the exotic plants Song Lan had placed here. Coldly laughing, she added: “The message he wants you to convey is likely a self-sacrificing plea to ‘not tarnish Her Majesty’s reputation and remain silent.’ Tell him this: He promised me a grand gift, yet now seeks to implicate me. How foolish. Advise him against playing such manipulative games with me. Does he think I’ll feel guilt or indebtedness? He knows best why he came to Luyun Rear Mountain. Hardly an injustice.”
Pei Xi was utterly dumbfounded, kneeling speechlessly.
Having vented, Luo Wei regained her usual composure. Noticing his state, she kindly added: “Don’t lament for your master. He’s not one to suffer losses. Encourage him to endure more punishment in the Ministry of Justice—the harsher, the more His Majesty will trust him. Fear not; they won’t kill him.”
Finished, she bypassed Pei Xi and walked away, ignoring his reaction. After two steps, she heard him apologize: “Your servant has offended Her Majesty today…”
Turning back, she felt a strange familiarity and impulsively asked: “Have I met you before?”
Pei Xi glanced up briefly, then quickly lowered his head: “No.”
Luo Wei ignored further words, departing directly.
Upon entering the garden before Qionghua Hall, Yan Luo caught up: “Though I don’t know what transpired that day, I grasp some of it. This Lord Ye manipulates events masterfully, orchestrating every detail. Does Her Majesty imply that even his imprisonment in the Ministry of Justice was premeditated?”
Luo Wei seethed: “That man is detestable. One day, I’ll eliminate him.”
Her rare outburst surprised Yan Luo: “Your Majesty…”
Realizing her lapse, Luo Wei forced a bitter smile: “I lost my temper.”
Court attendants lined up respectfully, bowing as the empress returned. Passing through the garden where faded flowers littered the ground, she noticed the crape myrtle beneath the corridor hinting at red blooms.
Suddenly gripping Yan Luo’s hand, she called: “Afei—”
Yan Luo looked up to see Luo Wei’s unusually calm yet fiery gaze: “I just recalled… What a splendid opportunity. Let’s take a risk and fan the flames of Ye San’s schemes.”
•
Although the Minister of Justice was aligned with Grand Tutor Yu, such a critical juncture warranted caution with high-profile cases involving the emperor’s close aides. Moreover, Ye Tingyan’s frail appearance suggested even light punishment might raise concerns about potential backlash from the Censorate.
Thus, when an official arrived with medicine, the guards dared not obstruct him, allowing immediate entry.
Pei Xi relayed Luo Wei’s words verbatim, summarizing parts he couldn’t recall.
Leaning against the iron cell door, Ye Tingyan listened, then burst into laughter.
He had endured his first round of punishment—twenty strokes. The executioners showed restraint, inflicting only superficial wounds. Refusing to remove his robe, blood seeped through the crimson fabric. Laughing exacerbated the pain, contorting his features.
Pei Xi gritted his teeth: “How can you still laugh?”
Ye Tingyan murmured: “She sees through every ploy. I hoped to evoke guilt, but she unraveled it all. Truly, she’s grown up.”
Pei Xi snorted: “Her Majesty shows no mercy, especially to those merely useful.”
Ye Tingyan countered: “You don’t understand. Intelligence has its advantages.”
Seeing his battered body yet cheerful demeanor, Pei Xi was both angry and frustrated: “For someone so brilliant, you’ve landed yourself in this pitiful state.”
“You misunderstand Her Majesty’s reasoning. The more punishment, the more His Majesty trusts me. Fear not—they won’t kill me.” Ye Tingyan shifted painfully, glancing outside: “Leave soon. No need to linger. This case nears its end. Being here might be safer than outside. Besides, I have other matters.”
Hearing approaching footsteps, Pei Xi tossed a vial of ointment and departed. Ye Tingyan grasped it, murmuring: “Thank you.”
Passing Pei Xi was Lin Zhao, recently returned unconscious to the adjacent cell after interrogation.
It was only the first day. Lin Zhao, deranged and hysterical, endured two forms of torture, collapsing multiple times. Hoping for leniency, Hu Minhuai ordered him revived and brought back.
Both were housed in the deepest cells of the Ministry of Justice, reserved for treasonous criminals. Though Ye Tingyan didn’t require such confinement, the three departments decided to detain them together.
Devoid of windows, the guards hastily deposited Lin Zhao and fled as if avoiding contagion.
Alone amidst straw, Lin Zhao alternated between cursing loudly, sobbing hysterically, and finally whimpering weakly.
Annoyed by the noise, Ye Tingyan rattled his chains, calling: “Lord Lin?”
Realizing someone was nearby, Lin Zhao crawled painfully toward the door in pitch darkness: “Who’s there?”
Rising too quickly, he slammed into the iron bars, grimacing in pain.
Familiar with the dark, Ye Tingyan sat cross-legged, calmly replying: “I’m a censor named Ye He, styled Tingyan. If comfortable, call me Ye San.”
Recognizing the name, Lin Zhao wished to strangle him through the bars, rattling his chains violently: “You deceitful liar! Who sent you to frame me?”
“Calm down, Lord Lin. If I intended to frame you, why would I also be here?” Ye Tingyan feigned distress in the darkness, groaning theatrically: “When investigating Muchun Field, how coincidental to encounter that eunuch. Reflecting during my punishment, I realized—we’ve been played!”
Lin Zhao cursed: “Nonsense!”
Ye Tingyan elaborated: “Consider this: Why do our investigations yield different witnesses and evidence? After much thought, I believe this scenario makes sense—the mastermind discovered your movements, assigned a eunuch to follow, then presented him to me. Once I implicated myself, they struck again, trapping me here—a classic ‘cicada-catching mantis’ strategy. We’ve truly been outmaneuvered!”
His vivid storytelling evoked sympathy.
Initially enraged, Lin Zhao found himself persuaded: “…If someone plotted this, who could it be? Who holds such enmity against me? If we identify them, I’ll protest during my next interrogation. My father will find ways to rescue me!”
“Who indeed…” Ye Tingyan suppressed a smirk, speaking slowly: “Who benefits most from the Lin family’s downfall? That person is the prime suspect.”
Lowering his voice conspiratorially, he continued: “Lord Lin, we’re in this together. Since they framed me too, I’ll offer you a lifeline.”
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