Chapter Sixty-Seven: When You Ask of My Return

“It’s not, it’s really not. Why are you so agitated, brother?” Seeing the sly look in Jiang Si’s eyes, Jiang Lan felt that trust between people vanished utterly beneath the lure of curiosity.

Calming herself, Jiang Lan explained again, “This matter really has nothing to do with my request to change cells—not even the slightest bit.”

“Fine, fine, it has nothing to do with brother, nothing at all.”

Hearing this, Jiang Lan realized the girl still didn’t believe her. Well, if she had secrets with her, she wouldn’t believe it herself. What else could she possibly trust?

Jiang Lan waved her hand, signaling the attendants to clear away the game pieces.

Xi Chi and Chun Ming each brought their mistress a cup of freshly brewed tea.

“Brother, aren’t you the least bit curious about those who should have been here, but were switched out?”

Jiang Lan sipped her tea, then lay back on the bed, legs propped up, hands folded behind her head, adopting a leisurely, carefree posture.

“You truly don’t want to know?”

Jiang Lan shook her head. “Even you suspect it was my doing. Wouldn’t everyone in Jiankang now think the same? In less than half an hour the news will spread, and then your brother will surely be blamed.”

Her brows knit slightly; the clever Jiang Si caught the underlying meaning at once.

“So, brother, this really wasn’t your idea?”

Jiang Lan nodded. “It truly wasn’t. I only wanted to change cells. This investigation of mortals must be Qin Shu’s doing.”

“Then why not release the news and clear your name?”

Jiang Lan yawned, unconvinced. “A prisoner disappears from the capital’s jail—whoever orchestrated it, Qin Shu will be implicated first. He’d have to be a fool to set himself up for trouble, and those whose kin were switched out will surely think the same. And as for why Qin Shu is investigating, it’s easy enough to discover it’s because I wanted a new cell. Now, which explanation do you think they’re more likely to believe: the conspiracy of a fifth-rank prefect, or the scheme of a noble heir? If we do nothing, so be it, but if we try to explain, those wily old foxes will only become more suspicious. Qin Shu’s official record is spotless; he rose through the exams, hasn’t joined any faction—he’s just a fish caught in muddy waters, incapable of stirring up real trouble. In the end, all eyes will fall on your brother. It’s thankless work—best not to clarify at all.”

Jiang Si was alarmed. Who would dare swap prisoners in the capital’s jail? Only the most powerful ministers at court, or great non-royal noble houses. If her brother earned their enmity, what then?

No matter how much the Empress Dowager favored him, she could never outlive the emperor, and should some mishap occur, those houses would tear her brother to pieces.

“Brother, what should we do?”

Jiang Lan shook her head; she had no answer for now. The enemy had yet to reveal themselves, and she had no one trustworthy enough to devise a plan. No use worrying—better to get a good night’s sleep and pay a visit to Cell No. 23 tomorrow, perhaps meet that Xie Muyun.

As for Gu Chengwu, the other, given his nature, Jiang Lan thought there wasn’t much to discuss—force would suffice.

“It’s getting late, and breakfast is done. You should go home. Keep an eye on things there. I’ll handle this. Don’t worry too much or others will notice. I, for one, want to see just how many people are truly involved.”

Jiang Si nodded. Though her brother could be unreliable, often defending her at great personal cost, after what happened with Fang Yi, she knew he had changed.

“All right. What would you like for lunch?”

Jiang Lan choked, realizing that in all her days here, she’d simply eaten whatever was served, never asking for a particular dish. “How about braised chicken?”

Jiang Lan’s eyes lit up, suddenly recalling a poem Ming Ge’er had recited that morning. She blurted out, “You ask when I’ll return; there’s no set date—braised eggplant and braised chicken await.”

Then she clapped enthusiastically, paying no heed to the stunned maids and servants around her.

“Sister, bring another plate of braised eggplant.”

Jiang Si nodded, hurriedly ordering the food boxes cleared away.

Jiang Si donned a felt cap, flanked by the lovely maids Xi Chi and Chun Ming, and outside, sturdy housemaids formed the first ring, with an even more robust group of attendants beyond them.

Surrounded on all sides, Jiang Si left the jail and entered the Jiang family’s carriage, followed by a grand procession.

Inside the carriage sat only Jiang Si and the two maids.

“Why do we have an extra one?” Jiang Si looked at the black food box in Xi Chi’s hands, baffled.

She never forgot to collect the ones her brother had finished with, and this wasn’t from her, nor from the household.

Jiang Si reached out, Xi Chi handed it over but did not let go; the box was heavy, filled with leftovers in several dishes.

“Whose is this?” Jiang Lan examined the jet-black box—fine pearwood, its dark surface flecked with gold dust: black-gold lacquer, worth fifteen taels of gold per tael!

There were no ornate patterns on the box, its simplicity belying its value. Black-gold lacquer topped the list of tributes from Huainan, and only a pound or two was produced each year.

It was not only made of rare materials but also carried the fragrance of plum blossoms, and had miraculous effects repelling insects and snakes.

Jiang Si lowered her head to sniff. “It really is black-gold lacquer.”

“Black-gold lacquer?” Chun Ming, puzzled, watched as her mistress’s gaze grew ever more fervent—could this box be some sort of treasure?

Jiang Si offered no explanation, merely instructing Xi Chi to stow the box carefully.

“This is precious. I wonder why its owner left it behind. Given its size, perhaps all of this year’s black-gold lacquer went into making it.”

“When you go at noon, remember to bring it along. Who knows if its owner will send someone to fetch it?”

It was far too conspicuous—even palace concubines would balk at such extravagance.

“Did anyone visit my brother last night?” Jiang Si muttered to herself.

She had not seen the box when dining with her brother the previous evening, so someone must have come after she left. Could it have been Cousin Xue?

She shook her head. Knowing Cousin Xue’s temperament, the box would be displayed on his antique shelf—he’d never use it for greasy food; that would pain him more than death.

So who could it be? Her brother had no friends aside from the two Xue cousins, not even any idle companions.

Jiang Si was lost in thought, oblivious even as the carriage halted at the mansion gate.

“Sister, we’re here.”

Chun Ming’s gentle call drew Jiang Si from her reverie, but still her eyes lingered on the box in Xi Chi’s hands.

As soon as Jiang Si stepped through the gates, she clenched her silk handkerchief and turned to Xi Chi. “Find a way to get word of today’s events in the prison to Cousin Xue’s attendant, Xue Kai. Make sure it reaches Cousin’s ears—let’s see how he handles it.”

The thought of her brother facing a pack of lurking wolves alone left Jiang Si uneasy. It was better to inform Cousin Xue, who had always been loyal to her brother. He was a good man, and would not abandon him.

Xi Chi nodded. Though she didn’t quite understand what the prefect’s investigation had to do with the heir, it was clear that swapping a condemned prisoner was a crime near treason. For the heir to be entangled in such a mess was truly troublesome.

Xi Chi glanced at the sturdy maid following behind, then handed the food box to the strongest of the lot.