Chapter 216: Hello Chang’an
For the sake of one day being able to mount a horse and wield a spear again, he lay still.
As for the date of Chang Suining’s departure from the capital, it was roughly set for after her Elder Brother could get out of bed and walk. Before then, his injured body simply could not withstand the slightest jostling.
But up until today, apart from the Chang family members and Yaojin, she had not mentioned her plan to leave the capital to anyone else.
At this moment, looking at the familiar faces of the Qiao siblings and Cui Lang’s group, and thinking of the parting soon to come, Chang Suining granted their every request, and truly recounted the details of Ming Jin’s execution.
Wang shi, carrying a bowl of tonic soup, was so startled when she overheard that she nearly spilled it. Yet she saw that the group of children were all listening with great relish.
“Lady, there is a guest.” Following behind Wang shi, Xi’er came in from outside and announced: “It is the young master from the Changsun family, saying he has come to visit the young lord.”
She still remembered how that young man had once cursed and struck her own young master.
But Chang Suining spoke kindly: “Since he has come to see my Elder Brother, invite him in here.”
Changsun Ji had come not only to visit Chang Sui’an, but also to offer apology and thanks.
He ought to have come long ago, but his pride and face had made him hesitate many days. Now that Ming Jin was dead, he felt he could no longer delay.
Yet as soon as he arrived, he felt his visit was hasty and ill-prepared.
The moment he stepped into Chang Sui’an’s room, he saw the place full of people and was stunned.
…Why were there so many people here?
Even worse, among them was the sharp-tongued Cui Liu Lang: “Young Master Changsun, have you come today to fulfill your promise and apologize at our door?”
Changsun Ji’s face froze.
That had indeed been his original intention, but when the other party phrased it so bluntly, he suddenly felt embarrassed. Who could understand this feeling?
Yet upon seeing Chang Sui’an, sitting propped against the bed, covered in wounds, Changsun Ji at last overcame the youthful pride and aristocratic arrogance of a noble-born boy. He raised his hand and bowed solemnly: “Before, when the truth was not yet clear, I spoke many words of misunderstanding against Lord Chang, and even struck him in rashness… Today I have come especially to apologize.”
Chang Sui’an shook his head: “It’s nothing, a trifling matter!”
Then, with a look of sympathy: “At that time, when Changsun Seventh Lady suddenly suffered misfortune, the evidence pointed squarely at me… You are four or five years younger than I, so for you to have acted so then was only human nature.”
Changsun Ji: “…” Please stop—every word made him feel less and less like a decent human being.
Just as Chang Sui’an was about to continue, Cui Lang interjected: “I seem to recall… that day Young Master Changsun also said, if my master could help your Changsun family find the true culprit, then Young Master Changsun would kowtow in gratitude, is that not so?”
Already mortified by Chang Sui’an’s generous attitude, the boy’s face turned red at once.
He had indeed said it…
But those words about kowtowing were nothing more than reckless anger in the heat of the moment.
“I ought to thank Lady Chang…” He looked at Chang Suining, caught in an impossible spot: “I…”
The young girl looked back at him. As their eyes met, suddenly the image flashed before his mind: that day at the Temple, she had stood disheveled in the abandoned library pavilion, blood beading and dripping down her arm.
In that instant, all thoughts in the boy’s heart fell away. He lifted his robe and was about to kneel.
But the next moment, the young girl reached out and held his arm, stopping him.
Changsun Ji looked up at her in astonishment.
“There is no need to kneel or give thanks.” Chang Suining said, “That day, when you came to visit, you once showed goodwill to save my Elder Brother. Let that and this cancel each other out, how about it?”
Changsun Ji froze.
So she actually knew of that incident.
He said: “That was nothing, merely a lift of the hand…”
Chang Suining smiled faintly: “For me to help your esteemed house bring the true culprit to justice was also nothing but a small effort, done in passing.”
Chang Sui’an then also thanked Changsun Ji.
Changsun Ji said nothing aloud, but his heart was heavy with guilt.
Afterward, Chang Suining personally escorted him out of her brother’s quarters.
“…Does Lady Chang blame my family for receiving the witness you sent, but failing to come forth in time to relieve your brother’s plight?” The boy thought for a long time, then asked quietly.
Chang Suining said: “It is not worth blaming.”
Changsun Ji fell silent.
“Not worth blaming” meant “not strange.” She had not really answered him; or rather, his question itself was childish and meaningless.
She seemed unconcerned, and even chatted lightly: “I notice that Young Master Changsun and Changsun Seventh Lady share a rather similar look.”
“Yes, my family always says that I resemble my aunt the most.” The boy’s tone carried both sadness and shame: “But I cannot compare with her—in breadth of heart or in character, whether in mind or in nature… I am not her equal.”
Chang Suining nodded: “Indeed.”
Changsun Ji turned his head: “?”
But saw the young girl smile: “Seeing you sad, I was teasing you.”
Changsun Ji: “…” Why did it not feel like a joke?
Until she added: “Young Master Changsun’s disposition is also very good. It is only because you are still young and your character not yet settled—after you grow up and experience the world, you too will become a person of such talent that others feel ashamed before you.”
Changsun Ji stared blankly, gazing at the girl’s calm, smiling face in the afternoon sunlight.
By the time he came to himself, he wished to say something, but they had already reached the gate. Chang Suining stopped: “Young Master Changsun, take care.”
Changsun Ji nodded: “…I will come again another day to visit Lord Chang.”
Watching the boy depart, Chang Suining could not help but think that such a “next time” might never come.
With the Huainan war and Ming Jin’s case spreading and fermenting, now the gentry officials led by the Changsun clan and Empress Ming were locked in deadly conflict. It had reached the point where only one side could survive.
No one could predict what tomorrow would bring.
…
At the same time, Yuan Xiang, having completed his errand, rode swiftly to seek out his Grand Marshal, and had already arrived in Bingzhou.
---
In the afternoon, outside the Grand General’s residence in Bingzhou, a young man clad in a dark cloak dismounted from his horse.
“Grand General!”
The attendants quickly stepped forward to salute, received the reins from his hand, and reported that Yuanxiang had already arrived.
Upon hearing this, Cui Jing strode into the residence.
Four days earlier, Yuanxiang’s messenger pigeon had delivered a letter into Cui Jing’s hands. On it was written one simple line: “Young Master Chang has successfully escaped danger. Please set your mind at ease, Grand General.”
Cui Jing, after reading it, felt relief, yet could not help but frown—since a letter had been sent, why not write more? Perhaps something like… well, in any case, was it because the pigeon could not carry too much weight?
What the letter had not said, at least, could now be asked face-to-face.
When summoned by the Grand General, Yuanxiang—though he had just returned travel-worn and was preparing to bathe and change—did not dare delay for even a moment. He hurriedly tied his belt again, grabbed the bundle at his side, slung it across his shoulder, and rushed to see his commander.
The discipline of the army was ingrained: when summoned by a superior, one must never be slow.
Upon reaching the outer study, Yuanxiang paid his respects and quickly reported:
“Please rest assured, Grand General, the Ministry of Justice has already cleared Young Master Chang’s name… But can you believe it? The true culprit turned out to be none other than Ming Jin, the heir of the Ming family!”
Cui Jing: “I had faintly heard the news.”
Such a grave matter, within more than ten days, was more than enough time for the most critical part of it to reach Bingzhou.
But this was not what he most wanted to hear.
“So the Grand General already knows.” Yuanxiang gave a sheepish smile before speaking of his own role. “This subordinate failed to live up to the task entrusted by the Grand General. On this trip back to the capital, I was unable to contribute much.”
At last, hearing what he wanted, the young man seated in the chair shifted subtly in expression—visibly taking the matter seriously:
“Did you cause any trouble instead?”
Yuanxiang quickly said: “Of course not!”
“Good. That’s enough.” Cui Jing felt reassured. In her eyes, failing to be of use was the norm—or rather, not causing trouble was already a kind of help.
“……” Yuanxiang fell silent for a moment, then defended himself:
“I kept your instructions firmly in mind, never daring to act on my own. In all matters I obeyed Lady Chang’s arrangements. So although I did not provide any great assistance, it’s not as if I did nothing at all.”
He proceeded to recount the various tasks Chang Suining had given him. It sounded like a lot, but in Cui Jing’s judgment, they could be summed up in two words—running errands.
Yuanxiang explained:
“Most of Lady Chang’s plans were executed in secret, so she didn’t need much manpower… Half of the errands, I think, she only gave me because I’d come all the way back, and it wouldn’t do to let me have made the trip for nothing.”
Cui Jing fell silent for a moment. She had been thoughtful enough, indeed.
He asked: “And the other half?”
Yuanxiang puffed up with some pride:
“The other half, I seized for myself!”
He was quick-eyed; whenever an errand needed doing, he took it all on, leaving the two little beggars under Lady Chang—called Xiao Duan and Xiao Wu—with nothing to do. They almost lost their tempers at him.
But what could be done? Too many monks, too little porridge.
Still, he was a guest—surely it was proper he take the lead!
Cui Jing: “……” he could imagine well enough how scarce and competitive the tasks must have been.
He looked at his subordinate: “Tell me the entire course of events.”
Yuanxiang froze—for had he not already told her when speaking of Lady Chang’s assignments? But upon meeting the Grand General’s gaze, he quickly understood… oh, he didn’t want to hear the version with him at the center!
So Yuanxiang recounted again, this time focusing on Lady Chang—how she arranged and laid her traps, how she exposed Ming Jin’s crimes before the gathered scholars at the Confucian Temple, and so forth.
By the end of this vivid narration, Yuanxiang’s mouth was dry. But Cui Jing, instead of marveling, only frowned.
“She was injured?”
Yuanxiang nodded.
But—after all his thrilling account, was that truly the only part the Grand General had taken in?
Cui Jing’s expression grew solemn. “How serious? What did the physician say?”
“Grand General, don’t worry. Lady Chang was hurt on the arm. The physician said she only needs some time to recuperate, and she’ll be fine.”
Yet Cui Jing’s face did not ease.
Yuanxiang could have kicked himself—if only he had held his tongue! Lady Chang’s injury could have been glossed over. Why had he described it in such detail?
So he tried to lighten the mood:
“…After it was all over, Head Master Qiao even had Lady Chang kneel and kowtow before Master Kong to apologize, saying he feared Confucius might be angered, and might make her stupid if she didn’t!”
As he spoke, Yuanxiang forced a laugh.
Cui Jing lifted his gaze to her subordinate’s forced grin.
Yuanxiang’s laughter faltered.
So the Grand General didn’t find that funny…?
Wait—he still had one last lifeline!
Yuanxiang suddenly remembered, and quickly unfastened the bundle on his shoulder:
“Oh, Grand General, this is something Lady Chang entrusted me to bring to you!”
He swiftly unwrapped it, revealing a square object wrapped in layers of silk, and presented it with both hands.
Cui Jing took it without hesitation, holding it in one hand while untying the silk with the other.
But layer after layer, he discovered it had been wrapped seven or eight times.
Her brow softened. She had taken such care… what could be inside?
Yuanxiang grinned: “Those extra layers were my doing—just to make sure nothing got damaged on the way.”
“……” Cui Jing’s hands paused.
Beneath the wrappings lay a brocade box. Opening it, she found within a plain-colored pouch.
Yuanxiang grinned again: “The brocade box was my idea too!”
After all, it was a gift from Lady Chang—there had to be a sense of ceremony!
Cui Jing was rendered completely speechless. He tossed the box aside, keeping only the pouch in hand.
After opening it, a chestnut fell into his hand.
Yuanxiang’s eyes twitched in surprise.
Just a chestnut?
He had thought at the very least it would be a note in Miss Chang’s own handwriting…
It was over—the sense of ceremony was too heavy, the expectations raised too high. The Grand General would surely be disappointed!
Yet, upon a closer look, he realized he had worried too much.
The Grand General looked at that chestnut with an expression as though it were dearer than his own son!
Sensing his subordinate’s gaze, Cui Jing closed his hand around the chestnut, then asked,
“Did she mention what plans she has for the future?”
Was there anything he could help her with?
“Grand General, you and Miss Chang truly share the same heart!” Yuanxiang’s eyes lit up as he asked, “Before I came, guess what Miss Chang told me to say to you?”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Yuanxiang regretted them.
The Grand General always disliked idle talk. Phrases such as “guess what,” or “I don’t know if I should say this,” all such deliberate mystifications—the Grand General would never respond!
Yuanxiang was about to grit his teeth and continue bluntly when, to his shock, the young man asked patiently,
“What did she say?”
Yuanxiang was stunned.
How could a person have two such utterly different faces?
After a while, he pulled himself together from his astonishment and forced a smile.
“Miss Chang said, if you were to ask about her plans, I was to tell you she intends to take Young Master Chang and leave the capital. Once they are settled, she will write you a letter so you need not worry.”
He added, “Miss Chang also asked after your injuries.”
Cui Jing looked at him. “And how did you answer?”
Grinning, Yuanxiang said, “Of course I told her you are brave and peerless, that such a minor wound was nothing, and you are already well!”
Cui Jing nodded, satisfied with the answer.
Though his wounds were far from healed, first, he did not wish her to worry; and second… he thought, surely no one would refuse the chance to appear courageous before the person they cared about?
Still, since she had confirmed he was injured, she must have already met Master Wu Jue.
Had she revealed her identity to him?
He recalled the night they parted at the Tower of the Celestial Maiden.
When Cui Jing left his study, night had already fallen, and a round moon had just risen above the treetops.
He paused, raising his head to gaze at the moon.
As Yuanxiang recounted what had happened at the Confucian Temple, in his mind’s eye Cui Jing seemed to see a general returning alone from battle, victorious yet bloodied, bathed in glory.
Yuanxiang had said that many had spontaneously blocked the tower gates for her. He thought: this was only natural.
In this world, there are such people for whom it is only right.
And such people are destined for a vast world, never to bow their heads in compromise.
He was no fool. Knowing things others did not, he could read between the lines of Yuanxiang’s words, and from them discern the Emperor’s attitude.
Within the Tower of the Celestial Maiden, the Emperor had failed to extract the answer he wanted.
This time again, he had failed to force it out.
Twice she had been tested with ruthless force, and twice she had chosen injury over yielding. Cui Jing thought, he could almost guess the reason why.
He ached for her blood and wounds, understood her refusal to yield, and admired the radiance she bore.
But… ached?
Those two words appeared clearly in his heart, startling him. Now that he knew who she truly was, was such aching not a transgression?
So, in treating her thus, did it mean he already harbored a “transgressing heart”?
The young man stood silently beneath the moon, tightening his grip on the object in his hand.
A moment later, he lowered his eyes to the chestnut, the corners of his lips lifting slightly.
Now, he had three precious chestnuts.
He tucked the chestnut away and descended the stone steps.
“Grand General.”
An officer of the Bingzhou Grand General’s Office came forward and saluted Cui Jing.
“It has been five days, but Dai Cong still refuses to confess.”
He hesitated slightly, then asked, “With both witness and evidence at hand, Grand General… shall we use torture to force a confession?”
Cui Jing gave no answer, only walked forward. “I will see him myself.”
Dai Cong was the Chief Secretary of the Bingzhou Grand General’s Office. Previously, upon learning of his correspondence with Xu Zhengye, the Holy Emperor had feared he might rebel, and secretly ordered Cui Jing to rush to Bingzhou to investigate and stabilize the situation.
Bingzhou governed Taiyuan, a crucial region. The founding emperor of the Da Sheng Dynasty had raised his troops there, and it was said to be the origin of the dragon vein.
Thus, Bingzhou could not tolerate the slightest mishap.
Cui Jing believed that for this very reason, amid such turmoil, there would surely be many coveting the region.
By secret decree, he arrived swiftly, uncovering evidence of Dai Cong’s attempted collusion with Xu Zhengye. Now, on the fifth day of his imprisonment, Dai Cong still refused to admit any dealings with him.
When he saw Cui Jing, Dai Cong, chained hand and foot, immediately rose.
“Grand General, I swear I harbor no disloyalty!”
Cui Jing raised his hand, signaling the guards to withdraw.
“Grand General, I…”
Dai Cong tried to speak, but Cui Jing cut him off.
“I know. I have already investigated.”
Dai Cong’s eyes widened. “Grand General…”
“Someone has deliberately framed you, ensuring the Holy Emperor would take notice, and drawing me here to condemn you.” Cui Jing said calmly, “This snare was set both for you—and for me.”
He had already suspected as much midway through.
Dai Cong said anxiously, “Then why would you risk coming here…”
“Bingzhou, Taiyuan, must not be endangered. Since I bear the office of Grand General of Bingzhou, even if there were but a one-in-ten chance of truth, I could not refuse to come.” Cui Jing said, “Our enemy surely counted on this, certain that I, holding a secret decree, would travel light and swift, lest we alert the foe.”
Thus, it was both borrowing the knife to kill—and luring the prey into the trap.
Dai Cong paled. “These past days trapped here, I thought only that someone sought to frame and eliminate me… I did not realize this plot was aimed at you as well!”
Two birds with one stone!
“There must be a traitor within the Grand General’s Office. You must be cautious, Grand General.” Dai Cong looked at the young man, feeling the encroaching peril, his heart deeply unsettled. “Whoever is behind this has grand ambitions. Having set such a trap, Bingzhou must already be in dire danger…”
“If we detect it midway, perhaps it is not too late.” Cui Jing met his eyes. “But with the enemy hidden and us exposed, the situation is against us. From here, I will need the Chief Secretary to play a part in a performance with me.”
Dai Cong’s gaze turned solemn, nodding as he awaited the young man’s plan.
…
The Prince of Huainan had yet to be buried when further ill tidings reached the capital.
Since the first defeat at Mount Duliang, the army led by Li Yi had fought many battles against the rebels, losing far more often than winning.
Worse still, the battle at Yangzhou had come suddenly. The supplies hastily gathered before the army set out had only been enough for three months. Now the grain was exhausted, and the reinforcements sent from court had been intercepted by Xu’s rebel forces.
The Son of Heaven was furious, but the urgent task was to order the Ministry of Revenue to raise more supplies.
Yet the harried Ministry protested: the coffers were empty, and demands for funds came from more than just Yangzhou. They truly could not raise enough again.
The next day, Marquis of Ying—who, not long before, had struck his head against a pillar in the Golden Throne Hall out of shame for his unworthy son—arrived at the Ministry, head still bandaged, bringing carts loaded with chests of silver. He declared he was willing to give up more than half the Ming family fortune to support the suppression army, easing the crisis somewhat.
With the Ming family taking the lead, how could other ministers and nobles remain unmoved?
The Ministry of Revenue promised all would be recorded, to be reimbursed when the treasury was replenished. But how much truth was there in that promise?
Watching the silver amassed over the days, the Ministry now struggled with how to distribute it.
The silver could not simply be sent in raw form; it had to be converted into grain and supplies, which required time, and discussions with the Ministry of War.
On one such day, someone from the Great General of Cavalry’s residence came, saying they had sold off some of the Chang family’s estates and gathered some silver and grain. They proposed not to wait for the Ministry’s process, but to escort it themselves to Yangzhou.
First, the Ministry’s procedures were cumbersome and slow. Second, the crippled veterans who had followed Chang Kuo for years insisted that, with the last convoy robbed, it was safer to send multiple escorts separately. Leading one themselves, they could also scout ahead.
For the Chang family, with kin still at war, such worry was only natural.
The Ministry of Revenue and Ministry of War agreed, issuing documents of authorization.
Under Chang Suining’s arrangements, the Chang family quickly escorted the funds and supplies out of the capital.
The very next day, a major incident shook the court.
🌙 Good night, and please remember to vote!
(Yuanxiang: He’s really become a hopeless romantic!)
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