Love in Red Dust - Chapter 82

Chapter 82

The charcoal brazier in the main hall was lit, but even at midnight, it could not stave off the biting cold. Guan Zhaojing held a red lacquer tray, bowing low as he placed the porcelain bowl on the desk. He turned to glance at the Western-style clock, then approached his master, speaking in a low voice: "It is getting late. Please have something to eat and then rest. No matter how thorny these matters are, you must take care of your health. Everything is resting on your shoulders; should you collapse, the Princess will have no one left to lean on."

He said nothing, turning his gaze toward the Five-Colored Golden Dragon carved on the throne. The dragon, with its head raised and eyes wide in fury, seemed to be mocking his incompetence.

When Hongzan had been in command of the salt and grain routes, everyone who worked under him spoke of Prince Zhuang as a magnanimous man. He had once sent people to investigate, only to find that Hongzan was loose-handed with the massive wealth he had embezzled, rewarding everyone around him without regard for blood ties or distance. Those in the know, having tasted the sweetness of his bribes, kept their mouths shut, while those in the dark scrambled to spread his good name. In officialdom, Hongzan was a 'benevolent and wise prince,' far better regarded than the Seventh Master—that 'wise prince' who held a hollow title while engaging in chicken-stealing, dog-robbing affairs.

He formed cliques and courted hearts; to eradicate him meant implicating half the imperial court. How difficult it was! The Emperor, however, had steeled his heart. If he wanted to rectify the bureaucracy and put an end to factionalism, he had to drag the ringleader out. In a country, in a court, when there are too many people making decisions, power becomes fractured, so the net had to be drawn tight. And he? He would always be the sharp blade used to strike the enemy. Did he harbor resentment? Yes, deep resentment, but someone had to do it. With the Emperor’s single remark—"I have such high expectations for my twelfth brother"—no matter how many complaints he had, he couldn't bring himself to voice them.

Hongzan was like an infinitely large drum, tightly stretched and densely nailed, leaving not a single seam around the edges. Jilantai, however, happened to be a loose bronze nail; if only one could pry his mouth open, the entire drumskin could be ripped away.

It was within reach, yet there was no way to get a grip. Was he just to leave him be, continuing to circle around him? He gritted his teeth. "Call Lu Shenchen and Hagang in."

Guan Zhaojing replied with a "Zhuo" and hurried off to deliver the order.

The two men arrived quickly. Upon entering, they knelt and said, "We await your instructions, Master. We shall carry them out immediately."

He signaled for them to rise. "The case is difficult to crack. There is only one move left. Tomorrow, I will enter the Ministry of Justice prison with Prince Rui and the Supreme Court Magistrate. Hagang, pick two new faces to go in and terrify Jilantai. Wen Lu was hanged, so we will follow the same path. Leave your words half-finished and let him dig his own grave. As long as the two words 'Hongzan' slip from his mouth, more than half of our task will be complete."

A stratagem of counter-espionage? It was a decent idea, but Hagang hesitated. "What if this fellow is stubborn to the death? Jilantai is a military man; he once followed the Western Expedition General to fight the Russians. If he keeps his lips sealed, we can't really hang him to death, can we?"

Hongce waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. At the critical moment, I will send jailers to rescue him. Regardless of whether he confesses or not, you must hang him up. After walking through the gates of hell, he will naturally hate Hongzan to the marrow of his bones. Furthermore, Jilantai is a coward. When a surrendered general roared at him once, he was scared so badly he wet his pants. Such a man—once you cut off his path of retreat, he is nothing but a useless puppet. He is nothing to fear."

Lu Shenchen smiled and agreed. "If it goes as you anticipate, Master, the case will be cleared up in three to five days. Being hung half-to-death is an experience no one wants to repeat. When the time comes, send someone clever to persuade him. Once he looks back and realizes Prince Zhuang was heartless toward him, he will be ruthless in return. I don't doubt he will implicate him."

It was a flash of inspiration, like a hole torn in a sky of long-lingering haze, letting a beam of sunlight through, making the path ahead seem hopeful again. He had once thought of 'inviting the guest into the urn,' but Hongzan was too cunning and refused to take the bait. Doing the opposite now, he felt this strategy had great promise.

He laid out the deployment in detail: where Hongsun and the Supreme Court Magistrate would listen in, when to put the noose on Jilantai, when to have the jailers cut him down—not a single detail could go wrong. Although the methods were a bit extreme, as long as the case could be broken, he didn't care if the Emperor punished him for it later.

This period had been hard on Dingyi. Before, dressed as a man, she could run anywhere in the capital. Now, staying with him after their visit to Langrun Garden, she had to learn to adapt to a woman's life. What Prince’s consort would run around outside, exposing herself to the public? Although they were not yet formally married, her every word and action concerned his reputation. She restrained herself for his sake, like a bird with broken wings, staring out of the diamond-paned window, waiting for news in a daze.

It was truly difficult for her, yet she didn't complain or urge him, knowing his pressure was no less than hers. When the two sat silently across from one another, she would press her hand against the back of his—her slender fingers full of strength. For her sake, he had to close this case quickly. Hongzan had stirred up his fighting spirit; he was the type of person who would return every inch of kindness tenfold, but for anyone who pushed him, even if it meant being shattered like jade, he would drag them down with him.

The plan was meticulous, and he exhaled a long breath of satisfaction. She was in the rear hall; he should tell her the news to give her some peace of mind.

Lu Shenchen and Daiqin had already left. He carried a candle through the passageway. The maid lifted the curtain to let him in. She wasn't asleep yet, leaning against a pillow, staring at an embroidery frame in a daze.

"It's late. You should rest." He leaned in and sat on the edge of the kang, studying her face. She had lost weight recently, which made her eyes appear even larger and more pitiful.

She smiled. "You were discussing matters until so late?"

He hummed an affirmative. Just as he was about to speak, she straightened up and said, "The chief steward is outside. It seems something happened; he needs to report to you."

"I'll go out and see." He said softly, "It's cold outside. Don't move."

He hitched up his robes and went to the outer chamber. He had barely crossed the threshold when he met Guan Zhaojing’s mourning-stricken face. He froze, feeling a vague sense of impending doom, yet unable to guess exactly what had gone wrong.

"Master..." Guan Zhaojing glanced toward the bedchamber and lowered his voice. "Something terrible has happened. The men from the Ministry of Justice are waiting in the duty room. They say your brother-in-law... has died in prison."

It was like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky. Hongce staggered; he suspected his own ears and barked, "What did you say? Say it again!"

Guan Zhaojing’s lips twitched. "The night shift found something wrong in the brother-in-law's cell. He was curled up, and thinking he had fallen ill, they called a medical officer in. Who would have known... when they checked, he had already breathed his last. The Minister of Justice can't make a decision right now and has sent someone to request that you move yourself to the prison to discuss how to draft the memorial..."

Guan Zhaojing trailed off. He looked past Hongce's shoulder and shuddered violently. Hongce turned his head in horror to see Dingyi, her face ash-gray, her limbs stiff as she took a step forward. "What did you say? Who died?"

Guan Zhaojing naturally didn't dare say, shrinking back to wait for his master's command. Hongce was panic-stricken, his mind in total disarray. He only knew he had to keep her from being too devastated, even though this nightmare was, for her, a death sentence of its own.

He stepped up to support her, his voice hoarse. "Don't worry, I will go see..."

She ignored him completely, shoving him aside and stumbling down the steps. He had no choice but to grab a cloak and chase after her. He wanted to comfort her, but found he had lost his voice.

Dingyi bit her lip, swallowing back the tears that surged up time and again. She didn't believe Rujian was dead. They must have made a mistake. Her brother was born clever; perhaps he had used some stratagem to deceive them.

Her chest felt suffocated with pain, a tidal wave of blood churning in her throat; she feared that if she opened her mouth, she would vomit it up. She gripped her collar tightly. Her head throbbed, and there was a buzzing sound like thunder in her ears. When she got off the carriage, her legs were weak, and she struggled with all her might to reach the Ministry of Justice prison. Yet, having passed the gates, she hesitated, not daring to walk forward. It was pure terror, boundless and absolute. She kept telling herself that no matter how afraid she was, she had to find the truth. Rujian was still inside; she had to see him, to confirm he was well.

A prisoner could not leave alive without being cleared of his crimes. Since Rujian was still in the prison, didn't that mean he was still alive? She inched forward, trembling, her shoes making no sound against the mud. As she drew closer, she looked up and saw the high skylight. She remembered the path from the last time she had come with the Seventh Master. Her heart was in turmoil; it was as if an invisible hand were choking her, and even with Hongce at her side, he could not share her burden.

The cells were separated by wooden gratings. Through the gaps, she could see the situation on the other side. A few men in official uniforms stood in the corridor, their hands tucked into their sleeves. "Check thoroughly. Do not let a single hair or fingernail go unexamined. Once the cause of death is clarified, we will submit the report."

Dingyi’s feet faltered; those two words struck her like a heavy hammer, shattering her soul. She didn't know where the strength came from, but she lifted her skirt and flew forward. The officials were startled, shouting harshly, "Who is this? Who let her in?"

Hongce walked over, his throat tight as he looked at the person lying on the ground. He struggled to steady his voice as he saluted. "The person is with me. I ask for your leniency."

The Ministry of Justice officials knelt the moment they saw him, kowtowing repeatedly. "Our incompetence led to a prisoner dying in our custody. It is our dereliction of duty. Tomorrow, we will submit a memorial to the court and willingly accept punishment."

Punishment? A life had been extinguished just like that. Who could pay for it with their own?

Dingyi could not believe it. She simply could not accept that the Rujian who had been busy sunning straw just two days ago was now lying on the cold mud, a lifeless corpse. She collapsed, crawling forward on her hands and knees. She felt his nose and checked his pulse, whispering, "Third Brother, why aren't you using your quilt? Are you lying on the ground to fool me? Get up. I won't care if you catch a cold."

He was silent. Though his face was pale as paper, his brow was smoothed out. She didn't remember what he was like before the age of fifteen, but since their reunion, he had always been weighed down by troubles, rarely showing happiness. Now, he was no longer troubled, but he was dead.

She stroked his face; it had lost all warmth. She murmured, "I came too late." She wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth and jaw, suddenly losing all strength, her forehead coming to rest heavily on his arm.

She gasped for breath, as if it would not continue, the pain numbing her heart. Their connection had been so brief; she was once again left all alone. If Heaven intended to take back this grace, why had they allowed them to reunite in the first place? It turned out that after all her struggles, they had only earned one year together.

Finally, she let out a wailing cry, shaking him violently, like a madwoman. "Third Brother, you cannot leave me... answer me, speak to me, I beg you..."

Hongce was helpless against her agony. He tried to pull her close, but she was so strong she shoved him aside, stumbling. She turned back to look at him, her gaze so sharp it was terrifying.

"Who killed my Third Brother?" She stood up, glaring at the officials. "Is the Ministry of Justice not an iron fortress? Are there not experts everywhere? Why did my Third Brother die in prison? You must give me an answer, or I will go and beat the drum of the Imperial Grievance Board myself and beg the Emperor to seek justice for me!"

The men present looked at one another in dismay. They had heard whispers of her relationship with the Prince, and no one dared to cross her. The coroner stammered, "According to the livor mortis, the incident occurred around the hour of the Pig (9:00 PM to 11:00 PM). I have examined the body and found no external wounds, but a silver needle test suggests signs of poisoning..."

"So you're saying he was poisoned to death?" Hongce gritted his teeth. "The Great Qing’s Ministry of Justice, the very place where law is upheld, yet a man is allowed to die right under your noses? I ask you, you who carry the ranks of high officials—what exactly are you eating your salaries for?"

He was livid. The senior officials were silent, shivering. The Minister, Chen Liutong, bowed repeatedly, trembling. "It is our oversight. But all food and tea in the prison are checked by special personnel, and records are kept for all visitors. I have already ordered a detailed investigation into the supplies provided between dusk and the second night watch, and every jailer on duty has been questioned. Nothing abnormal was found. Could it be..."

Hongce frowned. "Could it be what?"

"Could it be that Wen Rujian... feared the consequences of his crimes..."

His anger flared even higher. He spat out a harsh word of derision. "Are you the one presiding over the case, or am I? Haven't you already determined whether Wen Rujian deserted or was trafficked? Since his crimes do not warrant death, why would he commit suicide out of fear? He was murdered, not killed by your administrative negligence. How did the poison get into the prison? Don't tell me he was carrying it on his person for a rainy day. Ask yourself—do you even believe that?"

Chen Liutong was left speechless. After a moment, he saluted, "I am guilty, and the Prince’s rebuke is just. Since the coroner has finished the examination, the body should be dealt with soon. I ask for your instruction, Master: should we send it to the public mortuary, or will his family take him back?"

Sent to the public mortuary, to lie all alone in a black room filled with vermin, waiting to be buried in a random pit once the yamen decided they had no use for him—was that how his life was to end? Dingyi shook her head, gritting her teeth. "I will not let him be a lonely ghost. I will take him home, hold a funeral, and let him leave with dignity."

It should have been this way. Hongce felt eternally guilty toward the siblings and did not dare to say more. He turned and ordered Lu Shenchen to prepare a coffin. Dingyi swayed like a leaf in the wind. He was worried and reached out to support her, but she rejected him, pushing him away with a cold face. "Have someone send him back to Wine and Vinegar Alley. The rest is none of your business; I can handle it myself."

His heart turned cold. "Why must you be this way..."

She acted as if she hadn't heard him. She knelt to pull Rujian’s hands, weeping silently. "Third Brother, you have suffered. Your sister is taking you home."

The officials had a stretcher for moving bodies. Two jailers moved him onto it, and Dingyi steadied him as they went. Just as they reached the prison gate, she heard a shout from one of the runners. She turned back and saw that beneath the withered grass in the corner, there was a faint, bloody character scrawled crookedly on the wall: "Zhuang.”