Chapter 65: No. 23, Block C

Gu Ruo stepped forward, placing his palms together. “In my humble opinion, Lord Xue trusts the character of the heir, and Lord Yan reveres the law. There is no true conflict here.”

“Oh?” Chen Qing’s interest was piqued. As expected of the eldest son of the Gu family—only he could resolve this matter. “What do you mean by that, Scholar Gu?”

“Since the matter falls under the jurisdiction of the Capital Magistrate, and since Lord Yan believes in the law, why not wait for Magistrate Qin’s findings? If any issues arise, we can discuss them then—it won’t be too late.”

He turned to the Duke, “And Lord Xue, since your heir is blameless, I trust that Magistrate Qin will handle the case fairly.”

Xue Zuo nodded, cupping his hands in acknowledgment. “Scholar Gu speaks with reason.”

Though Yan Jin harbored some resentment that Gu’s eldest son did not side with the censors, he had to admit the sense in his words. While the scions of noble families could be vexing, if the young lord truly acted with integrity, it would be unjust to condemn him. “Indeed, that is reasonable.”

Yan Jin was second-in-command among the censors. With the Chief Censor away, all eyes now turned to him. He was famous for his candor—fearless before heaven, earth, and even his own conscience. Well into his fifties, he dressed simply, owning little beyond his official robes and a few sets of worn clothing. Of his five children, three had died young, leaving only an eldest daughter and youngest son.

His threshold was often crowded with common folk, bearing their petitions and grievances. Among the people, he was nicknamed Upright Yan, for he spent most of his salary aiding those in need. His faction of censors took no sides among the court’s three parties, existing only to serve the people and uphold justice.

With Yan Jin’s concession, the other censors quickly echoed their agreement; best to follow their leader. If disaster struck, they would face it together.

With both the Empress Dowager’s faction and the censors in accord, no one else dared object. The emperor’s stance had been clear—he would favor no one. Yet the heir in question was his own cousin, and the boy’s father had once rescued the late emperor on the battlefield; respect for kin and merit could not be ignored. It would not do to leave Jiang Jie’s orphaned son to suffer unjustly.

The Prime Minister Gu also voiced his approval, supporting his eldest son’s judgment. Thus, only Prince Anping’s faction remained, but the heir had already requested they not obstruct matters, leaving no dissent.

And so, the thorny matter was left to Magistrate Qin Shu of the Capital Prefecture, sparing the rest any further involvement.

The court dissolved. From afar, Magistrate Qin, who had been napping and now found several superiors casting him sympathetic glances, was startled and confused. What was going on? These men usually looked down on him—what had changed?

Dazed, Qin Shu was summoned to remain.

In the imperial study, Qin Shu was a bundle of nerves. After passing the civil service exam, he waited over half a year for a post as a backup official in Huainan, only securing it after much silver greased the way. After several transfers, he finally became a capital official—albeit the lowest and most embattled, but still, it was an audience with the emperor.

“The emperor is indeed handsome!” Qin Shu stole a glance, inwardly marveling, but his furtive look did not escape Chief Eunuch Xu Nuo.

“Impudent, Qin Shu! Kneel at once!”

Busted, Qin Shu’s face flushed red. Though he attended court daily, he always stood at the farthest edge; never had he glimpsed the emperor’s face, nor overheard the ministers’ discussions. Even so, he sensed today was unusually lively—then promptly nodded off again.

“You are Qin Shu? Second class of the eleventh year of the Tai Jian era, rank fifty-one, native of Xiaqu County, Julu Commandery, eldest son of your family, with two younger sisters.”

The elder, now married, is wed to a certain Yang, a scholar from Xiaqu County, their household prosperous and loving, blessed with two sons and two daughters.

The younger, born late, remains unmarried and lives with you.

Your wife, Lady Yan, is the daughter of a wealthy merchant in Xiaqu.”

Listening as the young emperor recited these details with ease, Qin Shu broke into a cold sweat, his discomfort plain as he wiped his brow with his undershirt. Truly, if the emperor wished to know anything about you, even your most trivial secrets were laid bare.

Qin Shu nodded vigorously, unable to speak. Chen Qing, seeing the magistrate trembling on his knees, could not help but laugh softly—a sound even Qin Shu heard. Just as he was about to look up, Eunuch Xu coughed meaningfully, and Qin Shu hastily bowed his head, not daring to be impertinent.

“I had thought that the magistrate who dared imprison his own cousin, favored by the Empress Dowager, must be bold. Now I see these rumors were unfounded, unworthy of belief.”

Chen Qing shook his head and ordered Xu Nuo, “No need to summon him to the Empress Dowager’s presence. Let him return to his yamen; I trust he’ll give both her and the Duke’s household a proper explanation.”

Qin Shu breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Leaving the imperial study, he bowed deeply at the threshold, his heart full of gratitude for the imperial favor. Had he been summoned to Chaoyun Hall, he would have been skinned alive—especially since today was the day the Empress Dowager’s beloved pet was to enter the palace.

Recalling the rumors swirling in the capital, Qin Shu’s legs nearly gave out. No wonder his superior, Lord Chen, had offered him a rare look of comfort that morning, even patting his shoulder with a grave air. He had thought he was about to receive a great boon; now it seemed the heir’s case had thrust him into the fire.

At the palace gates, with the help of his attendant, he finally managed to climb into his sedan. Then came more troubling news. “What? The young lord wants to change cells?”

The constable beside him was equally perplexed. The cell reserved for nobles was the best in the prison—even Liu Heng, son of the Liu family, had paid handsomely and still failed to secure it. Why would the heir be dissatisfied?

“Yes, there’s quite a commotion inside. You’d best go see for yourself.”

Qin Shu quickly lowered the sedan’s curtain. “Hurry!”

The porters rushed forward, attendants and constables hurrying after, a small crowd charging through the streets.

“Sir, would you like to change out of your official robes first?” his attendant suggested.

Qin Shu shook his head, handing his hat to his long-time servant, Yue An. Hitching up his robes, he strode toward the prison.

“Any progress on the Xue family’s case?”

Yue An shook his head. “The registration is genuine. Secretary Liu has gone to see the coroner; there should be news soon.”

“And from Captain Cai?”

Turning a corner, they finally reached the noisy cluster of men.

“The magistrate is here!” The crowd parted at once, revealing a group of burly men, each exuding a powerful masculine presence, arms crossed as they blocked the door.

Qin Shu felt awkward, but a voice from within saved him.

“Let Magistrate Qin enter.”

The voice was as clear as spring water. As the men stepped aside, Qin Shu finally saw the cell’s interior.

The straw-covered floor had been swept clean and layered with thick sheepskin rugs. The low bed was draped with lustrous silver fox fur—top quality. The heir had changed into a pale yellow outer robe over an ivory undergarment; the white jade hairpin had been replaced by an intricately carved wooden one.

The heir was playing chess with a woman.

Qin Shu quickly dropped his gaze, not daring to look further, but a single glance had told him all he needed to know: the only legitimate daughter of the third branch of the Duke of Wei’s household, the county princess conferred by the Empress Dowager herself. Though a county princess was not especially prominent in this city of wealth and rank, the title “Chen” surpassed even the daughters of princes.

Jiang family’s third master—a figure of celestial beauty, famed as the most exquisite among the capital’s noble families! His only daughter, the sole young lady of the Duke of Wei’s household, was rumored to have inherited six parts of her father’s looks. Aloof since childhood, she was untouched by the mundane world—a solitary flower atop a high peak, unattainable by all.

“Heir, County Princess Chen.”

“No need for formalities. Chun Ming, bring a seat for the magistrate.” Jiang Lan greeted Qin Shu with a smile, showing no sign of resentment at having been detained. Each had their duty and served their own master, after all.

Qin Shu thanked her and, seeing the low stool, sat down without hesitation. The princess never spared him a glance, her hands moving deftly over the chessboard—a frosty beauty with cold eyes and unearthly grace.

He dared not look again, for rumor had it the heir doted on his cousin; even the beloved daughter of Grand Preceptor Fang had been struck by his hand. Girls might quarrel with words, but the heir had not hesitated to use force—if Qin Shu stared too long, would he lose his eyes?

Thus, he shifted his stool to focus entirely on Jiang Lan.

“I hear you’re dissatisfied with this cell and wish to change?”

Jiang Lan nodded and signaled. Xichi, from beside him, took out a plump, pear-blossom-embroidered purse and presented it to Qin Shu.

“It’s not dissatisfaction. It just feels damp and heavy here—not to my liking.” As he spoke, Jiang Lan frowned, looking troubled.

Qin Shu was about to explain that this cell was the largest, most comfortable, and best-lit, but before he could, a chill wind drifted by—a cold, dark presence that sent a shiver through his bones.

“Very well. I’ll see to it immediately.”

Jiang Lan shook his head. “No need for special arrangements. I wish to be moved to Cell B, Number Twenty-three.”

Now, Qin Shu was truly in a bind. Not that the request was excessive, but Cell B was reserved for the most serious state offenders—those doomed never to see the light of day. It was the worst cell in the entire prison; many powerful and wealthy men had died there, unable to bear its conditions. The cells were large, crowded, and closely packed.

Seeing the magistrate’s hesitation, Jiang Lan set down his chess piece. “Does the magistrate have any objections?”

Qin Shu shook his head at once. “None at all. I’ll make the arrangements—may I ask you to wait here for half a day?”

Jiang Lan nodded and thanked him, gesturing for Xichi to pass the purse over.

Qin Shu declined repeatedly, but finally accepted resolutely, determined to transform Cell B, Number Twenty-three into a luxury suite.