The late spring breeze blew willow catkins across the vermilion walls of the Meridian Gate. The bronze bells on the eaves shone with a subtle golden gleam in the sunlight. Su Jinli, holding Si Yan's hand, stepped across the bluestone slabs. The hem of her skirt, embroidered with lotus flowers, swept the moss along the steps. Behind her, the hem of Jiang Yan's ink-black robe fluttered with each step, like a flowing ink painting.
"Stop! This is a restricted area of the palace, no trespassing!"
The gilded waist badge on the commander's chest gleamed coldly. The muscles in his arm, gripping the spear horizontally, tensed, the red tassel on the tip trembling slightly with his scolding. When Su Jinli raised her eyes, the red gold and kingfisher hairpin in her hair shattered a patch of sunlight, sending tiny diamond-like droplets splattering across the animal-head motifs on the commander's armor.
"I am Madam Jiang Yan, Su Jinli, the legitimate daughter of Prime Minister Su." She tightened her fingers slightly at her waist, and her moon-white cuffs slipped down half an inch, revealing the mutton-fat jade bracelet on her wrist. "My son Jiang Siyan has been slandered for corruption. Today, I must meet with His Majesty to seek justice!"
The sound waves bounced off the heavy wooden doors of the Meridian Gate, startling the swallows nesting under the eaves. Passing officials in crimson robes stopped to take notice, their jade belts with python patterns looming in the crowd. Some subconsciously touched the goldfish pouch at their waists, the jade buckles clacking against each other with a soft, crackling sound.
"Mrs. Jiang is so arrogant."
A gap opened in the crowd, and Censor Li emerged, twirling his long beard, his Xiezhi patch rustling in the wind. Disdain etched itself in the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, and the Xiezhi head embroidered in gold thread on the corner of his robe seemed to sneer, "There's irrefutable evidence that your son embezzled disaster relief funds. Instead of returning home to discipline himself, he's come to the palace to cause trouble?"
"Is the evidence conclusive?" Su Jinli sneered, the ruby pendant on her hairpin flashing with a bloody light. "Just a few mismatched accounts, and you want to convict my twelve-year-old son? Does Censor Li think that the beads on the abacus of the Imperial Academy will pop out of the treasury on their own?"
Jiang Yan took a half-step forward, his wide sleeve brushing against Su Jinli's wrist, just enough to entrap her trembling fingers. As he bowed to Censor Li, the coiled dragon pattern on the jade belt hook at his waist brushed the air, making a barely audible sound. "Si Yan is young; if there are any omissions, they should be taught a lesson. However, embezzlement is a serious crime. Censor Li, please provide us with solid evidence."
"Real evidence?" Censor Li suddenly raised his voice, startling the officials nearby so much that their hats tilted half an inch. "When the Imperial College's account book stated in black and white that twenty taels of silver had disappeared, your son was the only one present. Who else could it be but him?"
"Who says I'm the only one!"
Si Yan suddenly wriggled free from behind Jiang Yan, the cuffs of his moon-white gown still stained with spilled porridge from that morning. The sharp edges of an abacus peeked through his clenched fists, the clatter of beads mingling with a childish voice: "Senior Wang and Assistant Professor Zhang were there that day! They watched me finish checking the last account and even praised my neat handwriting!"
Censor Li's face instantly turned the color of liver, his official boots leaving fine marks on the bluestone slabs. "Of course they'll speak for you! The daughter of the prime minister, the wife of the number one scholar, who dares not give the Jiang family face?"
"You're wrong, Censor Li," Prime Minister Su finally spoke, twirling his beard and clacking his ivory imperial scepter against his palm. "The Imperial College is a place of enlightenment. Senior Wang once won the highest imperial examination, and Assistant Professor Zhang is the 37th generation descendant of Confucius. How could they perjure themselves for a child? The Censorate has always been fair and impartial. To convict someone based on solitary evidence is likely to chill the hearts of students everywhere."
Before he could finish his words, the sound of horse hooves suddenly filled the distance. Young Marquis Su, on his red horse, rushed around the corner, his golden hair crown tilted to the back of his head, the rice paper he waved in the wind rustling. "Sister! Brother-in-law! We've found it! The receipt with Madam Zhang's handprint from the charity cemetery!"
As the chestnut horse's front hooves rose, gravel splashed onto Censor Li's official boots. As Young Marquis Su dismounted, the ruby pendant on his golden crown wobbled. He thrust the rice paper into Siyan's hand and said, "Quick! Show that old fellow!"
Siyan's fingers trembled as he took the receipt, the cinnabar handprint on the rice paper like a blossoming plum blossom. He tiptoed and held the paper before Censor Li, the porridge stain on his sleeve rubbing against the gold thread of his Xiezhi patch. "Last month, I gave all my monthly allowance to the charity cemetery. Madam Zhang said it could buy five shi of rice!"
Censor Li glanced at it and turned his head away. The Xiezhi beast head on the corner of his robe seemed to sneer: "Who knows if this receipt was forged overnight? Maybe they were caught embezzling money and they're looking for an excuse to cover it up!"
"You're talking nonsense!" Si Yan suddenly raised his voice, tears welling up in his eyes, "Madame Zhang is cooking porridge at the charity cemetery outside the city right now, let's go call her over!" His fingers holding the receipt turned white due to the force, and the abacus beads made a rapid sound against his waist.
"That's enough!"
The vermilion palace gate suddenly creaked open, and the emperor, beneath a bright yellow umbrella, emerged, rubbing his brow. His robe, emblazoned with twelve emblems, billowed in the wind. The gilded spittoon held by the chief eunuch nearby swayed, its longevity patterns grazing the sunlight, casting flickering spots of light on the blue bricks.
"His Majesty!"
As everyone knelt in unison, Su Jinli caught a glimpse of Si Yan's knee colliding with the bluestone, his moon-white trouser legs immediately smeared with dust. She wanted to reach out to help him, but Jiang Yan's eyes stopped her. His fingers beneath his wide sleeves were quietly making soothing gestures.
The emperor's eyes fell on Siyan's dusty knees, and a smile suddenly appeared on his lips: "Isn't this the young master of Lord Jiang? Why is he so sad? Who are you arguing with?"
Siyan gazed up at the bright yellow umbrella, his Adam's apple moving nervously. He suddenly remembered the sugar painting the emperor had bought him during his incognito visit to the Lantern Festival last year. Summoning his courage, he took a half-step forward. The cinnabar handprint on the receipt glared in the sunlight. "Your Majesty," he said, "Censor Li accused me of embezzling disaster relief funds, but I donated them to the charity cemetery! This is the receipt from Madam Zhang!"
As the emperor took the receipt, the twelve emblems on the cuffs of his dragon robe brushed against Siyan's head. His fingertips brushed against the cinnabar handprint, and he suddenly laughed out loud: "What a money-grubber! You actually donated all your monthly allowance?"
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