Love in Red Dust - Chapter 81
Chapter 81
The sky had cleared. The sun bathed everything in a gentle, melting warmth. With the New Year festivities just concluded, the fading bustle left behind a void—a kind of listless, hollow depression. Dingyi sat on the stone steps, her arms wrapped around her knees. The sunlight beat down on the crown of her head until her scalp grew hot. Her mind was a blank slate, yet a single, persistent worry had been pressed into her heart for so long that it had slowly blurred into a dull ache. She decided to stop thinking about it altogether and called for her servants to air out the bedding and prepare some food. She hadn’t seen Rujian for two or three days. Normally, this was the time she could manage a prison visit; she would slip the jailer some silver, and with any luck, manage to get a few words in.
Just as she was pondering whether or not to bring Hailan along, she heard the doorman’s voice from outside: "Happy New Year, Seventh Master, please, right this way."
Dingyi looked up and saw the Seventh Master sauntering in, stepping over the threshold with a measured gait. She rose to greet him. "Where have you come from, Seventh Master?"
"I’ve come from the Ministry of Justice," the Seventh Master replied. "Hongce was presiding over the trial earlier, and I stayed behind to observe." He shook his head. "It was a joint trial by the Three Ministries and Nine Ministers, and the situation is looking grim. Never mind pointing the finger at Hongzan—Jilantai won’t even admit to his own crimes. Hongzan and Hongce got into a heated argument right there in the courtroom. In the end, they brought up your relationship, arguing that to prevent bias from the presiding judge, there should be a recusal. I’m afraid someone else will be taking over your father’s case."
As she listened, her heart sank. Her eyelids had been twitching for the last two days, and she had felt that things wouldn’t go so smoothly. She had even considered that if there were truly no other way out, she would bite the bullet and insist that she had nothing to do with Hongce. But at a moment like this, Rujian’s life hung entirely in the hands of the presiding judge. If someone else took over midway, the risk was something she dared not even imagine.
"If they replace him, who will it be?"
The Seventh Master pursed his lips in thought. "Either Prince Yu or Prince Rui. But Hongce has his own counter-argument. He doesn't acknowledge you as Wen Lu's daughter, claiming instead that you are just a distant cousin and the two families didn't interact much, so he didn't know the specifics of Rujian's background. He says they only spent New Year's Eve together because of long-standing custom; that way, he can avoid the charge of harboring a fugitive." The Seventh Master rubbed the back of his neck and sighed heavily. "This has really cornered the Twelfth Master. Such a reason is quite flimsy. If it were you, would you believe it? Now it all depends on how the palace decides. They have gone to see the Emperor just now. If the Emperor intends to show favoritism, the Twelfth Master’s position as presiding judge won't be shaken. It’s just that times have changed; he can't be too blatant about it, not with so many eyes watching."
Dingyi thought of Mu Liansheng. "After I returned from Langrun Garden that day, what happened to my wet nurse’s husband?"
"Oh," the Seventh Master replied. "He’s dead. I wanted to keep him around to ruin Hongzan—using his own spear to strike his own shield, as they say. But then I thought, it’s better not to bring such matters before the Emperor, or there would inevitably be another round of complications. There are plenty of graveyards near Locust Tree Residence; a quick execution and a shallow burial ended it once and for all."
Even though she hated the man, knowing he had met such an end still made Dingyi feel uneasy. But it was a case of 'every man for himself or heaven and earth will destroy you.' In this world, it was always a matter of kill or be killed.
A maid came to report that everything she had ordered was ready and asked whether to set it aside or load it onto the cart. Dingyi turned back to the Seventh Master. "I must head to the Ministry of Justice prison now. Please, make yourself at home, Seventh Master!"
The Seventh Master hesitated. "At a time like this, don't stir up any more trouble. Tell you what, I’ll go with you. Go change your clothes and dress up as my long-term attendant. Don't say much—just a few words and then we leave."
If they could do that, it would be for the best. Dingyi agreed and quickly found her old clothes to change into. It was worth carrying them all the way from Ningguta to Shanxi, and then back to the capital; they had come in handy when it mattered most.
Once ready, they headed to the Ministry of Justice. The prison there was far more stringent than the Shuntian Prefecture office, as it held the capital's most dangerous state criminals; not just anyone could enter. Fortunately, the Seventh Master’s face served as a pass that opened every gate.
The guards took the bribe, nodding and bowing as they led them into the dungeon. This place was devoid of sunlight, enclosed by iron walls and copper barricades. Deep inside the dungeon, torches flickered. A small window was carved into the wall two men high, letting a square beam of sunlight pour in, so bright it stung the eyes.
The air was foul—the smell of eating, drinking, and excreting all in one place, combined with the dampness, made one feel like vomiting. The Seventh Master covered his nose, claiming he couldn't stand it, but Dingyi was unfazed. Back at Shuntian Prefecture, she had often seen prisoners being led to the execution grounds, and she was used to shuttling through such places.
Rujian’s cell was close to that window, which could almost be considered a 'prime location.' In a place like this, every inch of sunlight was precious, and he was putting it to good use. Dingyi walked closer and saw Rujian acting as if nothing was wrong, actually finding the time to sun the straw in his cell.
She called out, "Third Brother," in a low voice, choking back a sob. "Stop drying that. I’ve brought you a quilt—it’s much better than straw."
Rujian looked back without a trace of sorrow or joy. "Is this a place for you to be? Put the things down and go back!"
How could she rest easy? She pressed him, "Did they make things difficult for you? Did they beat you?"
Rujian said no. "Prince Zhuang claims I deserted. I’m not an idiot; it’s clear I was sold into human trafficking. Do you think I’d let them pin that filth on me? Don’t worry, nothing will happen for now. But Jilantai refuses to talk, and since I’m accusing Prince Zhuang, I have no proof, so it’s useless. After today’s trial, the situation for Father’s case doesn’t look optimistic..." He suddenly smiled. "I should have died with Rujian and the others; living until today was a gift. Take good care of yourself. No matter what happens to me, stay out of it. You’re a girl; you shouldn't have to endure so much. If the case can't be overturned, it's just fate. We children have done all we could... It’s just, Zao'er, the one thing I can't stop worrying about while I'm in here is you."
As the siblings chatted, the Seventh Master was feeling lightheaded from the stench and hadn't heard a word of what they said earlier. But he caught the last sentence and immediately declared, "If Hongce isn't good to her, she still has me! I will look after her, and she won't suffer. You just stay in there, calm and steady. No matter how much of a ruckus it makes outside, just keep insisting you were trafficked. At worst, they’ll send you back to Changbai Mountain, and I’ll find a way to fish you out. Even if I can't help with the lawsuit, I’m the best at playing games in the shadows. Just don't worry—eat when you can, sleep when you can. The sky isn't falling yet."
His sincerity was unique, yet he spoke the blunt truth. Rujian cupped his hands in a salute toward him. "Seventh Master, we’ve played together since we were children; there’s no need to speak of our bond. With your promise, I can rest easy. I’m in no position to care for myself, let alone my sister. Although the Twelfth Master dotes on her, having another brother to look after her... I will rely on you, Seventh Master. Rujian will always remember your great kindness."
The Seventh Master felt a pang of heartache—it seemed that in this lifetime, he was destined to be nothing more than a brother-figure to the woman he loved. But that was fine. As long as she was living well, it didn't matter. He and Rujian had been friends since they were kids; at the very least, he would fulfill the trust placed in him.
Dingyi could not shake her anxiety. She couldn't say what felt wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. Just then, a jailer came to hurry them along, smiling ingratiatingly at the Seventh Master. "My dear Master, it’s about time. We have our duties, and usually, visits aren't allowed. We’ve broken the rules for you today, so please, have some consideration for us so we have an answer for our superiors."
The Seventh Master gave a snort of impatience. "Don't give me that nonsense! Is it against the law for a man to bring a quilt to an old friend? Go tell Chen Liutong that I was here today. If he’s not satisfied, tell him to come to the Xian Prince’s mansion to arrest me—I’ll be waiting!"
The jailer stood there, stunned and stammering, not knowing how to deal with him. Afraid that things would get out of hand, Dingyi tugged at the Seventh Master’s sleeve. "Please, calm down. We’ve seen him, and we’ve delivered the items. Let’s go!" She then whispered to Rujian, "Things haven't reached the point of no return yet, so please stay calm. I’ll go back today and come see you again in two days."
Rujian nodded, and the Seventh Master finally grunted, "In that case, let’s go!" They had only walked a few paces when they heard someone let out a shrill, terrifying roar. The Seventh Master said, "Who is that? Is he trying to eat someone?"
The jailer bowed and smiled. "That’s Duke Jilantai. He’s probably complaining about the food again, throwing another temper tantrum!" He gestured for them to follow as he led them out.
Meanwhile, Hongce entered the palace to meet the Emperor. The Emperor, needing to balance the interests of both sides, decided to punish both parties equally. Since both Hongce and Hongzan were implicated in the Wen Lu case, to avoid unfairness, it was handed over to Prince Rui and the Supreme Court. As for the case of Duke Jilantai accepting bribes and assassinating the salt inspector of Zhejiang, it had always been handled by Hongce. Switching people midway would only cause confusion, so Prince Chun was ordered to expedite the trial, submit the findings to the Censorate, and be done with it.
This imperial decree seemingly stripped Hongce of his power, but since he still held the Jilantai case, he was still linked to the Wen Lu investigation. The problem, however, was that they had reached a dead end. With the ledger left by the late salt inspector, it was impossible for Jilantai to escape conviction, but because he refused to implicate his accomplices, the fire could not spread to Hongzan.
Hongce slammed the gavel. "The evidence, both human and physical, is all here. Do you think your silver tongue can save you? Do you have any idea how grave these crimes are? While you still have the chance, I advise you to commit a meritorious deed to redeem yourself. I know that the grain and salt routes were managed by others, and you were merely a puppet; your crimes are not enough to warrant execution. But if you persist in your stubbornness and bear all the blame yourself, I fear it won’t be as simple as mere house arrest or exile."
Jilantai remained unmoved. "The salt and grain channels are complex. Collection, transport, trading, scheduling, taxation—which of these doesn't require coordination? When the Prince was in Khalkha, you dealt with military affairs. The salt route deals with officials and merchants; it is a matter of civil governance. One does not know the price of firewood and rice until one manages the household. If I may speak boldly, how many times has the Prince been down to Jiangnan? Do you even know how the waterways of Zhejiang are laid out, or how many acres of salt fields there are?"
Despite the open provocation, Hongce did not get angry. "Civil and military affairs are interconnected. If I could suppress a rebellion in Khalkha, I can deal with a petty Duke like you. It doesn't matter if you refuse to confess. I will submit the two sets of ledgers to the palace, and the Emperor will make his own judgment. I advise you to think of your family—all of them—and think of Wen Lu thirteen years ago. Is that not warning enough for you?"
Mentioning family always touched a nerve. Jilantai’s eyes flickered, and despite the cold weather, he broke into a sweat. But he only paused for a moment before taking a sharp breath. "Is the Prince trying to induce a confession? Even if I am convicted, my entire household is still of the Imperial Clan. The Ancestor left behind a will; the Imperial Court cannot mistreat them."
Hongce scoffed. "When Wen Lu was sentenced to death in prison, his property and his womenfolk were not initially targeted. Yet, why was his entire family wiped out in the end? If the court doesn't handle it, others will. You keep hiding things, and in the end, you will only drag your whole house down with you. Stop playing games with me. I want a straight answer today. It’s the New Year; don't make these officials suffer in the cold with you. If you make me angry, you know the consequences."
His "consequences" were nothing more than holding Jilantai's family hostage. Jilantai was caught in a dilemma, his fists clenched, the veins in his neck bulging. He struggled for a long time, seemingly unable to resist, before dropping his head. "Fine. I committed graft and violated the law. I plead guilty. You can decide the sentencing, Prince; there is no need to keep interrogating me over and over. Once the confession is drafted, I will sign it. Aside from that, I have nothing to say."
Was he planning to take the fall for everything? Hongce glanced at the other officials present and pressed his advantage. "You confess quickly enough. How do you explain the Wen Lu case? You were both in the Transport Office at the time, and he had private dealings with the murdered salt inspector. To escape punishment, did you frame him?"
The current situation did not require them to obsess over who the true mastermind was. As long as Wen Lu’s name was cleared, the case against Rujian would vanish. Since he was already confessing, what harm would it do to confess to everything? Unfortunately for Hongce, Jilantai had no such intention. He gave a mocking laugh. "A case of this scale, with tens of millions of taels of silver passing through our hands—could I have orchestrated it all by myself? Wen Lu was never clean to begin with. That case was decided years ago. Since it was judged correctly then, why does the Prince insist on trying to exonerate him now?"
"I am handling this impartially. If you continue to speak nonsense, don't blame me for using heavy torture." Hongce was truly reaching his limit; he had been entangled in this for far too long, and even the best patience would eventually wear thin. This sudden confession was not in his calculations. The officials in attendance perked up, but Hongce had no intention of asking others for their opinion. With cold, harsh eyes, he said, "Since you are co-conspirators, why didn't he testify against you back then, instead of letting his family be killed or exiled? Whether it was out of loyalty or because he was truly unable to defend himself, you know best. Because there are still many doubts, I will not pass judgment today. We shall deliberate further. Go back and think carefully. If you can endure this, I have all the time in the world to accompany you. Take the prisoner away. Court dismissed."
The yamen runners came up with their staffs to haul Jilantai away. As he was dragged out, he kept shouting, "I have confessed, why not pass judgment?" He continued to clamor all the way back to his cell.
The prison was quiet, but he remained loud and boisterous. As he passed Rujian’s cell, he stopped, gritted his teeth, and sneered. "Old Third Wen, you want me to clear your father's name? Dream on! I am of the Imperial Clan; I have the blood of the Aisin Gioro family flowing in my veins. Even if this case is settled, I’ll still be eating well and living in luxury. Why come back from Suifenhe, where you were a human trafficker, to plead for grievances? Is it worth throwing your own life away? Your father is crying in his grave, you stupid boy!"
He laughed with arrogant, unbridled madness, brandishing his princely authority as he entered his cell.
Rujian was unwilling to accept this, his teeth grinding together. It was hateful how he was always one step away. He had wanted to wait for Jilantai to crack before lodging his grievance, but he had fallen into a trap himself. Prince Zhuang must have tipped Jilantai off, which was why he was so fearless. Once Jilantai pleaded guilty, the case would simply stop there, and Hongzan wouldn't be affected in the slightest, continuing to sit securely as a Prince. Why should it be this way? Was the blood of his parents and his two brothers spilled in vain?
In truth, he had been very clear about this when he returned to Beijing. He had endured humiliation and lived in hiding for so long only because he had a belief sustaining him. Hongzan had been in officialdom for thirty years; it was too difficult to catch him in a mistake. If it weren't for Dingyi, Hongce wouldn't have bothered to provoke this trouble. But now, the trouble was here, and if things remained stalled and the case made no progress, he feared that once this period of tension passed, the court would simply abandon it. Or perhaps, fearing that the scandal would become too large to contain, they would just catch Jilantai and let the rest fade into nothingness. Setting aside the injustice suffered by his parents and brothers, there was now Dingyi. She was with the Twelfth Master, and if they didn't bring Hongzan down, she would never have a peaceful day in her life. He loved his sister. He could bear his own suffering—he was a man, forged and tempered by hardship. But she? She had lived a humble life until nineteen, and just as she had tasted a few days of happiness, she was to be faced with endless, crashing waves.
He couldn't wait any longer. Every day the case dragged on, the trail went colder. His own life wasn't worth much; if he could trade it to ensure Prince Zhuang was buried along with him, it would be a profitable deal.
He leaned against the icy wall and smiled, his lip curling. He had waited for Hongzan to make a move, but he hadn't. A truly smart man; he knew that if anything happened to Rujian in prison, the finger would point straight at him. Jilantai’s strength was nothing more than a paper tiger. If he could shatter that mask and break his psychological defenses, surely Jilantai would fear becoming the second Wen Lu.
He pulled back the hem of his robe. On the corner of his undergarment, a pair of butterflies the size of fingernails were embroidered, their antennae delicate, their patterns dazzling. He lowered his head and stroked them. The only thing was, he was sorry to Hailan. If they had never met, he wouldn't have made her sad time and time again.