Chapter 67: The Matter is About to Be Settled
The fire in the study was dying down, the embers of sandalwood condensing into a pale ash at the bronze incense burner's rim, struggling to stay afloat. Outside the window, low-hanging clouds pressed down on the layered eaves of the buildings, a heavy, oppressive atmosphere of impending storm hanging in the air. The snow had stopped, but the chill had only intensified, seeping in through the cracks in the windowpanes.
The sound of a wheelchair rolling over the paved floor grew louder as it approached. After a few light knocks, Wuqing was pushed in. He wasn't wearing a cloak today, just ordinary clothes and a blanket. Lengxue bowed and retreated outside the door, closing the door behind him.
"Master Su."
Without exchanging pleasantries, Wuqing's gaze fell directly on Su Mengzhen. The latter stared down at the ashes of the incense burner on his desk, his pale face almost blending into the ash in the dim light, only a flickering flame reflected in the deep pools of his eyes. Hearing the voice, Su Mengzhen looked up.
He spoke, his voice low and deep, then coughed again. His illness always seemed to worsen in winter, a burden that weighed heavily on his bones: "Any results from the Divine Marquis's Mansion?"
If there were no results, Wuqing wouldn't have come. He didn't bring anything else because what he wanted to say couldn't leave any trace. It would even be better not to tell Su Mengzhen about this, but since Jinfeng Xiyulou had helped, Shenhou Mansion wouldn't be dishonest. He said, "If we investigate the clues you provided earlier, we'll find that the source of that batch of grain was an unexpected shady deal."
Furthermore, he had never imagined that some people would be so audacious: "The distribution of officials' salaries and grain rations has always been done in cash, which is the usual practice. Only some people have been able to take advantage of the emperor's favor and the treasury's leniency to deceive the heavens and the sea, taking only the goods instead of cash, and then using the excuse of consumption to take away an unknown amount more. In the end, the grain was stored in the granary and then resold."
There was no need to mention names; they all knew who it was. Ruthless and composed, his anger had already flared when the investigation was completed. He continued, "The method was shrewd, the traces were meticulously covered, and he even used his subordinate's name. If he hadn't used that money to hire someone, and hadn't happened to run into Miss Xie on her outing, rescuing Little Li Tan Hua and triggering a joint investigation by the Divine Marquis's Mansion, Li Garden, and Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion, uncovering this would have been an impossible task."
After listening, Su Mengzhen didn't say much, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ashes of the remaining incense fall from the stove and scatter on the tray. He had already prepared himself with Xie Huailing, so he composed himself and gave his side of the news: "As for the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion, the investigation into the steward couple who were suddenly expelled from Li Garden for making a mistake has yielded some results. They are dead, found in a small river near an unnamed roadside inn thirty miles outside the city gate, disguised as drowning. No extra items were found on their bodies, but..."
Su Mengzhen pulled a small note from under the town stone and handed it to Wuqing: "We found something else at their residence. This is the statement from their neighbor, saying that they suddenly had an extra hundred taels of silver before they died, and they hid it. If the neighbor hadn't tried to steal it in the middle of the night, they wouldn't have found out."
The air in the study froze completely. The embers in the stove flickered weakly, and a wisp of thin smoke struggled to dissipate—whose final sigh was that? As soon as Wuqing finished reading, Su Mengzhen placed the confession onto the still-warm ashes in the stove. The flames licked it, and the paper hissed and crackled as it burned. Then it curled up, turned black, and rose into a cloud of bitter, burnt ash, finally turning into lighter, colder remains that covered the incense ash.
The fleeting firelight reflected on Su Mengzhen's calm face.
He looked at the embers, his eyes deep and unfathomable, and said, "Now that the game has come to this point, it's time to lay bare who the opponent is."
And remained ruthless and silent.
“This matter is too significant. Even if the evidence is conclusive and submitted…” He glanced at the papers that had turned to ashes in the furnace. Ashes were a metaphor for something powerless. He didn’t finish his sentence.
He had his passions, for the current situation and the imperial court, but reality also presented its own difficulties. Having been in the Divine Marquis's Mansion for so long, Wuqing couldn't possibly be unaware of this.
Whether it's the deaths of the two managers or the deficit in the granary, the investigation will likely only end up on some subordinate who 'committed suicide out of fear of punishment.' Cai Jing only needs to say 'I have deeply failed the Emperor's grace and failed to manage my subordinates strictly,' and throw out one or two scapegoats to cut off the main thread, and the Emperor will not investigate further.
Afterwards, even if the disheartened Grand Tutor Li gave up on protecting himself and continued to fight Cai Jing, he would only sink deeper into the swamp.
Cai Jing's plan was bound to fail when the emperor was incompetent.
"With this matter concluded, I am deeply grateful to Lord Su and Miss Xie as well." Wuqing thanked him. "I will inform Grand Tutor Li of the investigation results. The Divine Marquis's Mansion will provide full support to Li Garden in terms of how to handle the matter and what the outcome will be, but ultimately, the decision rests with Grand Tutor Li. Neither the Divine Marquis's Mansion nor the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion should reveal themselves. However—"
Wuqing made a promise that carried immense weight: "Li Garden and Shenhou Mansion will remember the kindness of Jinfeng Xiyu Tower in helping us, and will never forget it."
Su Mengzhen remained silent, only nodding slightly. The dust had settled, or rather, temporarily settled. This was a game of chess destined to have no outcome and no winner; Xie Huailing had made it all too clear.
With a ruthless bow, the sound of a wheelchair rolling over the ground rang out again as he slowly withdrew from the study, bringing the final discussion to a complete end.
The study fell silent. He didn't draw the curtains, yet he knew dusk was falling outside, the last glimmer of light soon to be swallowed by thick clouds, like every day, every year in Bianjing. Year after year, it was the same. He had no memory of Bianjing with its clear, cloudless skies. Even snow that could blanket the world in white had its limitations. The world was never truly pristine and white simply because of a heavy snowfall.
Mengzhen sat alone in the chair, already knowing what choice he had to make. He sat there, the fire in the stove extinguished, a chill creeping into his bones, and before his eyes seemed to float the ashes of the burnt paper, those words about blood and tears, treachery and virtue, and the truth.
What was Li Taifu's choice?
He could almost foresee the grief and despair that old minister would feel upon learning all the news. But what could he do? As long as Cai Jing was willing to cut his losses, the emperor could dismiss him with a casual remark like, "You are old now, do not be upset," and a few more gifts.
There's nothing the Divine Marquis's Mansion can do. As long as the Divine Marquis's Mansion still has some hope for the Emperor, there's nothing they can do.
The world's intrigues are far more corrupt and dangerous than the battles of the martial world. The road ahead for the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion is long, long enough to require paying the price of indifference.
He sat silently for an unknown amount of time, until the night outside the window was completely dark, and the chill seemed to freeze on his thick, long eyelashes. Su Mengzhen stood up.
He did not call for anyone to add lamps or warm the stove.
He pushed open the study door, his tall, slender figure disappearing into the deep darkness of the corridor.
He had to see someone; he had to find Xie Huailing. Only now, he absolutely had to see her.
.
Xie Huailing is easy to find; she usually just stays in her room.
The night outside the window was thick and inky, the last rays of sunlight sinking into the heavy clouds, but none of this mattered to her, because the curtains in her room were drawn even tighter than those in Su Mengzhen's study. A few lamps illuminated the room, and the charcoal brazier and stove together provided her with warmth. Xie Huailing sat with her eyes closed on a low couch covered with a thick, soft felt mat by the window, not asleep. Her face, illuminated by the warm light, showed a rare serenity, like a wooden sculpture stranded in the mundane world.
Su Mengzhen did not knock. He pushed the door open, stood at the door for a moment, and then sat down on the couch next to Xie Huailing.
"Bai Feifei is gone?" Su Mengzhen asked.
"I'm leaving," Xie Huailing said.
After a few seconds of silence, the sound of the wind outside the window seemed to subside.
"Cai Jing?" she asked softly again.
Su Mengzhen responded. Without any further explanation, this brief sound encompassed the ashes of the burned paper in the study, the corpses lying in the roadside inn, and the tangled darkness beneath the majestic mansion in front of Xuande Tower.
Xie Huailing finally opened her eyes, her gaze clear and bright. She turned her head to look at the person beside her and asked, "So, you came to see me to continue the topic we didn't finish last time, about whether or not to do as I said, or... to have a heart-to-heart talk?"
"Heart-to-heart talk" is a word that doesn't quite fit her. But hearing it come from her mouth now, it sounds absurd yet strangely comforting. Su Mengzhen looked at her face, their eyes meeting: "Heart-to-heart talk?"
“Yes, we had a heart-to-heart talk.” Xie Huailing nodded affirmatively, a few stray strands of hair brushing against her porcelain-white cheeks before being casually tucked behind her ear. “You’re not in a good mood.”
Su Mengzhen pursed her lips slightly: "It's certainly not good. But why are you bothering with this?"
Xie Huailing leaned back against the soft pillows, adjusting to a more comfortable position, and said, "You really are a forgetful person. You said you wanted to understand me, so I should understand you too. Let's chat, just say whatever you want, and the first time won't be considered overtime pay."
This is Xie Huailing's kind of patience; she rarely takes the time to suggest going with his current state of mind. Su Mengzhen has long been accustomed to forbearance and rigidity, often dealing with his own emotions on his own, which is how he has reached his current position. He is more like a knife, a mountain, a tree, or an illness.
But he accepted her offer, which was indeed the first time between them, and it seemed to be the first time he had made such a decision, putting aside urgent official business, without any orders that had to be completed, and with only someone who seemed willing to listen to whatever he wanted to say.
So he spoke, as if opening a long-sealed box; every word and phrase seemed distant and destined for a very distant place.
“When I was young, I learned to use the sword and I also saw snow, but it was not like the snow in Bianjing, which hit my face painfully when it fell. The snow I saw when I was young was the kind of snow that is often described in poems. At that time, I practiced the sword in the wind and snow, thinking that only by not being afraid of the cold could I grasp the killing intent of the red sleeve and also my own illness. I always practiced from morning to night without stopping for a moment.”
Su Mengzhen recalled the icy chill in her memory: "Wilderness and boundlessness, the world was only two colors: white was snow, black was withered branches, and bright was the red-sleeved knife. I would occasionally think of it after returning to Bianjing. The snow in Bianjing, pressing down on the layers of vermilion pavilions and green towers, was nothing more than a layer of embellishment."
"After the snow, I saw a vague territory marked with cinnabar on a map: the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun, which had never been recovered from Emperor Taizong to the present day. By then, I was older and realized that even with the courage of a common man, and a knife that could split stone and cut gold, one could not sever the pain of losing one's homeland. It was also at that time that I heard of Grand Tutor Li."
"The Grand Tutor was a man of integrity and uprightness, a veteran of two dynasties, and rose to the position of prime minister. He once went alone to the border to pacify the refugees and reorganize the military; he once managed the floods in Jiangnan, sleeping in the mud with the disaster victims; and he was not afraid of powerful figures, submitting a memorial to the throne to speak frankly about the disaster caused by Cai Jing's faction and the suffering caused by the Flower and Stone Tribute. Before he became disheartened, he was truly determined to save the day from collapse."
Su Mengzhen's voice calmed down, as calm as a deep lake covered with thick ice, beneath which lay a silent flame and a cold contempt: "Some people believe in sorcerers, favor auspicious omens, and are easily swayed by slander. Honest advice is seen as noise, and uprightness is condemned as being out of touch with the times. They regard white stones as jade and treacherous officials as virtuous ministers. This is why evil has been allowed to flourish, and why we have come to this day, using such despicable methods as assassins to sever the bloodline of virtuous ministers and destroy their hearts."
"It shouldn't be like this."
Xie Huailing's voice rang out, clear and melodious, cutting through the melancholy and sorrow in Su Mengzhen's words.
Because of her words, Su Mengzhen stared at her intently. This was what he had been thinking, and it was also the reason why he had put aside Xie Huailing's suggestion for the first time: "Yes, it shouldn't be like this. Loyal ministers and patriots should not be treated like this."
The grief and repression finally found an outlet; he didn't even need her to ask, his emotions poured out. In this gray sea, Xie Huailing quietly watched him.
Perhaps people need moments like this. She seemed to understand him and continued on his behalf: "However, the author also knows that he is destined to witness such absurdity: the times are unfavorable, power struggles are rampant, the virtuous and the wicked are mixed together, and the emperor is incompetent. How many innocent people have turned into a handful of dust? In comparison, why don't the blood and tears of virtuous ministers flow away? Such things will not be rare in the martial world, and they will only increase in the imperial court in the future. People are the most precious, and people are also the most worthless. This is the state of affairs."
"But it is precisely because of this situation that something needs to be done. In the author's heart, it is precisely because the tragedy of today is unbearable to look at that we should remember it and never let it happen again."
His chest heaved slightly from the emotional impact, aggravating his chronic illness, causing Su Mengzhen to cover his mouth and cough softly.
The crackling of the charcoal fire mingled with his suppressed coughs. After a long while, he calmed down, his gaze piercing through the endless fog. Su Mengzhen was not one to hesitate too much. Having endured many years of suffering, he would not let suffering hold him back any longer: "Not a single word is wrong. Jin Feng Xi Yu Lou cannot jump into the court and invite trouble. Cai Jing is powerful and favored by the emperor. Faced with an unshakeable outcome, all we can do is wait until the dust settles before making any calculations."
"So I have made my decision," he said. "Grand Tutor Li has dedicated his life to the country and its people. I dare not say that I have never received any favors from Grand Tutor Li. Countless people in the world have received favors from Grand Tutor Li. Right now, I am powerless to seek justice for him and have no way to help him. I can only feel resentful and have lingering hatred in my heart. So I will wait until the future, until the time of justice, to settle this great hatred. I will never forget any of these things."
"Your suggestion is indeed the best solution at present, and I will do as you say."
The firelight from the fireplace danced on Xie Huailing's face, outlining her solitary and elegant features. She listened quietly, without interrupting, mocking, or agreeing, until Su Mengzhen finished speaking her final words.
Finally, she abruptly shook her head.
That was the solution she had proposed, but now, her slender fingers were pointing at Su Mengzhen's hand again, and she had something new to say.
"But I don't think so. OP, you've made your decision."
Su Mengzhen was taken aback, then realized that Xie Huailing had struck at the deepest, most intense part of her heart. Under the heavy gaze, Xie Huailing lifted her head.
"Since we have to make the final decision..." She looked into Su Mengzhen's eyes, seemingly sighing but not quite, vaguely seeing a rolling river flowing away, its surging waters flowing eastward with regret, unable to recall the countless sorrows of the land.
Standing at the highest point, she had a clear view of history, but it was only at this moment that she clearly realized that what she saw in Su Mengzhen was a speck of dust in history. The "more than ten years later" that she had always taken for granted in books was the life of someone struggling and despairing, and the endless hatred of countless people.
So she said, "Why not just ask for another one... so that I can have a clear conscience?"
Su Mengzhen remained silent for a long time, almost lost in thought. Finally, the flame in his eyes burned even brighter. Xie Huailing's meaning was crystal clear. It was as if he had returned to that day of listening to the rain, returned to the autumn rain. He felt that rare tremor from his very core, as if something was driving him to uncover the closest idealistic thought that was suppressed beneath the surface of reality: "If one has a clear conscience, where does one begin?"
Xie Huailing said casually, "It's possible, it's worth a try."
She was often so arrogant, as if she had no idea of the difficulties she was about to face, or perhaps she even despised them. But it was always her arrogance, her talent, that complemented him; he needed it so much.
"Even if it's futile, we can still give it a try?"
"What does it matter if it's futile?" Xie Huailing asked.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s futile,” Su Mengzhen replied.
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