Chapter 9: Bamboo in the Western Garden (III)

“Yes,” Ye Tingyan stood up, respectfully bending his waist before her, speaking gently: “Lady Zhang died of drowning. I inquired with the palace gardeners; the last time she was seen was half a month ago when she was packing her belongings to leave the palace. Presumably, she met her demise after that. The body was severely decomposed, and the coroner spent a long time examining it but found no other marks on her body. After much discussion, everyone believed Lady Zhang committed suicide.”

Luo Wei frowned, but before she could speak, Ye Tingyan continued: “However, why would a young palace maid, who hadn’t offended any superior or had financial worries, drown herself? The Inner Service Bureau was at a loss and dared not present such conclusions to the emperor, so they delayed, hoping for someone else to be assigned to investigate.”

Who in the Inner Service Bureau would dare hastily conclude such a high-profile case as suicide? Unable to find anything substantial, they anxiously waited for someone to take over this hot potato.

Luo Wei said: “That’s their style. What about you?”

Ye Tingyan replied: “I am different from them. Before the Inner Service Bureau sent people to retrieve the body, or even earlier, Young Master Pei provided me with a piece of evidence—it was something he picked up by the roadside on the day he was seen by the palace maid in the Western Garden.”

Luo Wei’s heart skipped a beat as Ye Tingyan took out a cracked piece of jade from his sleeve.

The jade was ring-shaped, resembling a broken thumb ring, with sharp edges stained with old bloodstains.

Ye Tingyan flipped his palm, presenting the inside of the jade to her, not forgetting to remind: “The edge is sharp, Your Majesty, please be careful.”

Under the dim candlelight, Luo Wei saw a shallow engraving of an eagle ready to take flight inside the jade ring.

Before she could be surprised, his clear voice floated like a ghost to her ears: “Your Majesty, think carefully—where have you seen such a green jade ring before?”

“On the day of the Dianhong Grand Assembly, all the ministers were present, a grand occasion. Why did the Golden Sky Guard arrive so quickly and so improperly? The well in the Western Garden hadn’t seen anyone for years... Who knows the palace affairs well enough to dare dump a body there?”

The answer was obvious. The one who could summon the Golden Sky Guard hastily and match the eagle pattern on the ring was none other than Lu Heng, also known as Lu Fengying, who had been reprimanded by Song Lan that day.

His hasty summoning of the Golden Sky Guard to seal off the Western Garden already indicated guilt. The Golden Sky Guard didn’t dare report to the emperor and empress before sealing it off, likely wanting to check for any incriminating evidence before others arrived.

Unexpectedly, their efforts backfired, alerting both the emperor and empress, resulting in his reprimand.

Luo Wei’s eyes flickered slightly as she softly said: “With such uncertain evidence, you dare accuse the leader of the Golden Sky Guard, a trusted aide of His Majesty?”

“That’s why I invited Your Majesty here,” Ye Tingyan sighed, feigning concern. “I seek Your Majesty’s guidance—should the murderer be pursued, and who should it be? Evidence? What I’ve gathered can’t serve as evidence, but if Your Majesty wishes, how difficult would it be to find evidence?”

Upon hearing this, Luo Wei smirked coldly: “I bear no grudge against Lord Lu...”

“He killed Lady Zhang—isn’t that a grudge?” Ye Tingyan interrupted. “These past few days, I’ve been investigating some old matters. Back then, Lady Zhang was promoted by Your Majesty and transferred to the palace. Before leaving the palace, she embroidered handkerchiefs for Your Majesty. Having served in the palace for so long, why did she suddenly decide to leave? Nothing more than receiving a promise from some faithless person, only to be silenced just before departure—just bring the person in, and I can ask these questions on behalf of Your Majesty.”

As he spoke, he leaned closer. The candlelight cast a small shadow of his long eyelashes onto his eyelids.

Luo Wei smelled the sandalwood scent on the man’s official robe, closed her eyes to steady herself. She didn’t reprimand him for his improper proximity, only saying: “If I agree, it’s because I want to clear my reputation and seek justice for Lady Zhang. Then what about you, Lord Ye? What do you want?”

Ye Tingyan knelt again beside the candleholder, either intentionally or unintentionally, kneeling precisely where her cloak had fallen: “I want His Majesty’s trust.”

He cleared his throat and smiled: “Your Majesty already knows about my family’s affairs—my father sacrificed himself for the country, my elder brother’s reputation was tarnished, my second brother lived humbly after being stripped of his title, reduced to a low-ranking soldier. My resolve to venture out stems from my patriotic ambition buried in Youzhou’s yellow earth—I couldn’t accept it.”

“I toiled for years in Youzhou, finally achieving some merit. His Majesty recognized it and granted me sustenance. But how long can I rely on it? Even I can’t tell.” He laughed, extending his hand to smooth the wrinkles on Luo Wei’s skirt, then abruptly shifted the topic: “His Majesty is young, having sat on the throne for only three or four years. In the court, there’s the prime minister; in Bianjing, there are noble families; in the regions, remnants of the former dynasty; on the borders...”

Luo Wei coldly said: “You’re out of line.”

Ye Tingyan ignored her, attentively caressing her skirt: “Lord Lu is His Majesty’s confidant, leading the Golden Sky Guard and the Palace Front Division, arguably His Majesty’s most trusted person. But he is, after all... an old retainer of the former crown prince. No matter how much His Majesty trusts him, wouldn’t there be a trace of doubt?”

He sneered without looking up: “But I’m different—I’m alone, untainted, loyal to only one master. To become His Majesty’s trusted person, I must eliminate a thorn in His Majesty’s side as a gesture of loyalty.”

Luo Wei pondered for a moment, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.

Ye Tingyan sought her out, ostensibly to report matters, but in reality, he was being cunning—he intended to use Lu Heng as his own gesture of loyalty to gain Song Lan’s trust. Simultaneously, he uncovered the significance of Lady Zhang to Luo Wei, inviting her to hear his confession. If she agreed, it would achieve two goals with one action.

This man’s intricate calculations left no room for error. After a round of verbal sparring, Luo Wei’s heart raced, though finding no flaws upon careful consideration, she still probed: “In fact, if Lord Ye could find the real culprit, you needn’t have reported to me first.”

Ye Tingyan replied: “Inside and outside the court, everyone knows Your Majesty and the emperor are of one heart. I share some past acquaintance with Your Majesty and thought to do my best for Your Majesty. I hope Your Majesty won’t reject my humble intentions, and kindly look upon my sincerity.”

The room fell silent for a moment. Ye Tingyan patiently waited until he finally heard the empress respond: “Lu Fengying has enjoyed His Majesty’s trust for a long time. If you can’t find strong evidence, His Majesty, considering past sentiments, won’t make things too difficult. At that point, the one hurt would be yourself.”

Ye Tingyan immediately said: “Since I dare to speak, I have absolute confidence in victory.”

Luo Wei stood up, slowly retrieving the cloak under which he knelt. Ye Tingyan rose to see her off. At the door, he suddenly asked one more question: “Lu Heng was an old retainer of the former crown prince. He must have had some connection with Your Majesty. Does Your Majesty... hold no regard for old ties?”

Old ties?

Not only old ties, but also those who had once earned his trust.

But trusted dogs bite their masters harder.

Luo Wei said: “Lady Zhang was also my old retainer. Even if there were past sentiments, what of it? With a murder charge on his hands, it’s not I who can’t accommodate him—it’s the laws of the Great Yin Dynasty.”

She spoke slowly, not seeing Ye Tingyan’s icy smile behind her.

•

Fourth year of Jinghe, leap second month. By the end of the next February, Luo Wei heard that Song Lan had imprisoned Lu Heng, not in the Ministry of Justice, but in a newly established place called “Zhuque Pavilion.”

At the end of Zhuque Street lay the former site of the Jinzuan Pavilion, indicating the establishment of an imperial surveillance institution directly under the emperor. Whether this move made the court realize remains unknown.

“Moved to Zhuque Pavilion? Fengying has enjoyed His Majesty’s trust for a long time. This time, no leniency was shown?”

Yanluo knelt before Luo Wei, carefully applying reddish-purple nail polish to her nails.

The red was like fire, the purple like clouds. Luo Wei’s fingers were slender and beautiful, the red between her fingers like the setting sun and evening clouds. She hadn’t applied such vibrant colors for a long time. Finding those dresses reminded her that she used to love these things in her youth.

The palace attendants guarding the door envied Yanluo’s private conversation with the Empress. Yanluo was originally the lowest-ranking servant in Qionghua Palace. Though she was better-looking, she was quiet and unassuming, not competing for attention. It was unclear when she caught the Empress’s favor, becoming her closest attendant.

Standing far away, she couldn’t hear their whispered conversation. Yanluo blew on her nails, gently saying: “That Lord Ye investigated for several days, saying the wounds on the body were unusual, resembling injuries from a certain unique weapon. Not daring to investigate directly, he reported to His Majesty, who ordered all palace guards to show their weapons.”

“When Lord Lu had no choice but to reveal his blade, Lord Ye immediately noticed the double-edged knife with serrated marks, matching perfectly. Coupled with the broken ring later found by the Inner Service Bureau in the Western Garden, denial was impossible. In front of everyone, His Majesty couldn’t protect him, angrily kicking Lord Lu and ordering him moved to Zhuque Pavilion.”

Luo Wei pretended to exclaim in pain while her eyes clearly showed a hint of pleased amusement: “Lord Ye calculated accurately, seizing an unavoidable opportunity to expose Fengying. Thus, even His Majesty couldn’t say anything against him, instead praising him for his loyalty.”

Yanluo wrapped Luo Wei’s fingers, sprinkling some lacquer flower water. Her usually expressionless face revealed a trace of sarcasm.

“When Lord Lu was dragged away, he cried out his innocence, claiming he was framed and couldn’t have left such marks.”

Luo Wei sighed: “This Ye San is capable. Last time, he claimed there were no marks on the body, but now he can fabricate a wound unnoticed by gods or ghosts to pull the wool over our eyes.”

Yanluo raised her eyebrows: “Did he tell Your Majesty there were no marks on the body? After the incident, I went to the Inner Service Bureau to take a look. That knife wound indeed exists.”

Luo Wei was stunned, then helplessly smiled: “I was deceived by him.”

Yanluo said: “It’s not a matter of great importance. I wonder, since Lu Shizhong... has always enjoyed His Majesty’s trust, even if imprisoned, will His Majesty kill him?”

Luo Wei examined her long nails, smiling: “At this point, how could he possibly survive? Even if His Majesty doesn’t want to kill him, that Ye San will surely find a way.”

Yanluo nodded: “Your Majesty speaks the truth.”

Luo Wei’s lips curved into a smile. She cautiously lifted her eyelids, checking that no one else could hear, then whispered close to Yanluo’s ear: “Afei, next month during the Qingming Festival, shall I offer incense at your parents’ tomb for you?”

Yanluo’s hands paused momentarily in serving, but ultimately responded calmly: “No need.”

•

After the hour of You, Song Lan came to Qionghua Palace. Candles had already been lit everywhere. Luo Wei was kneeling before the crystal vase in the inner chamber reciting Buddhist scriptures when she suddenly heard the long announcement from the eunuch at the palace gate.

Before she could rise, Song Lan walked in.

The inner chamber was narrow, and Luo Wei could even smell the distant fragrance of ambergris emanating from the young emperor.

The fragrance was sweet and rich, lingering around her nose, making her vaguely recall the day she first entered the palace. The emperor’s hall was also scented with ambergris, but atop the incense burner were dried orchid, osmanthus, plum blossom, and pine needles. Through these, the solemn and cold fragrance became fragrant, elegant, clear, and moving. They were ancient—orchid, osmanthus, pine—all beloved by gentlemen. Thus, the gentleman-like youth with the air of a cypress entered this simple world, praising her flowers for their hundred-day redness.

His words still echoed, yet he lay forever beneath the turbulent river, without a trace, never cremated. On Ling Mountain, only an empty plaque was enshrined; the jade suit and coffin were utterly empty. Confucianism doesn’t believe in ghosts or deities, but a gentleman must maintain proper attire. Without his remains, how could one tidy his appearance or burn incense in prayer? How could he receive worldly blessings beside orchids and osmanthus to cross the river of the afterlife?

This life has ended, but Buddhism and Taoism firmly believe in reincarnation. Along with the gentleman’s Confucianism, only through worship can comfort be found.

Death takes the body, but the stone statues kneeling on Dinghua Terrace are false culprits. They, like him, still hover above her eternal river—wronged souls unable to cry out.

This heart-wrenching silence must be conveyed to the ears of the living by someone.

Luo Wei slowly turned around. There was an ancient sword dulled in the inner chamber. She thought that if she could be a little crazier, perhaps she could thrust it directly into the chest of the person before her.

But killing requires only a moment, and venting anger is the simplest thing to do.

Song Lan naturally knew nothing of Luo Wei’s thoughts, only preoccupied with examining the portraits of various sages hanging on the wall—one Buddha, one Taoist, one sage. Religions varied in the secular world but converged in this small inner chamber.

He bent down, thinking himself considerate, to help up his young queen, who had grown a year older.

Luo Wei responded gently. She had already loosened her hair, and her long tresses brushed against his palm: “Why does Your Majesty come at this hour?”