Chapter Sixty-Four: Resigning from Office
Alone, Mu Lian trudged through the first snow towards the Ruyang Prince's mansion, now completely sealed off by the Imperial Guards and resembling a colossal tomb. The once magnificent gates were now heavily guarded, utterly silent except for the soft patter of falling snow. From deep within the mansion, the suppressed weeping of women and the terrified whispers of servants could be faintly heard.
Ignoring the sounds, she walked straight to a secluded corner on the west side of the palace. There stood a small courtyard, once the old gardener's residence, now abandoned. In the courtyard, an old plum tree with gnarled branches stood silently in the wind and snow, its branches stubbornly blooming with a few scattered, blood-red buds.
She stood beneath the plum tree and carefully took out the portrait of her mother from her bosom. The silk unfurled in the cold air, and the gentle, sorrowful face of her mother in the painting appeared somewhat unreal against the backdrop of falling snow.
Mu Lian stretched out her slightly trembling fingers and, for the last time, gently stroked the cheek of her mother in the painting, as if trying to feel the warmth that had long since vanished. All she felt at her fingertips was the coolness of the silk and the roughness of the ink.
“Mother,” she murmured softly, her voice as light as a sigh, disappearing into the wind and snow, “the revenge has been taken. We… are going home.”
There was no tinderbox. She simply took out the flint and steel she always carried and struck the flint forcefully, again and again.
"Snap!"
A tiny spark landed on the edge of the dry silk.
"Snap!"
One more thing.
Finally, a faint flame, like a spirit born from the darkness, licked the ancient silk and spread greedily. The flames gently yet mercilessly swept over the mother's gentle eyebrows, sorrowful eyes, and soft features in the painting... and also devoured the eight characters in the corner of the painting that carried endless possessiveness and destructive desire—"To have it is my fortune, to lose it is my fate."
The firelight gradually brightened, leaping and rising, casting flickering light on Mu Lian's pale and serene face. The heat of the flames scorched her cheeks, dispelling the biting chill brought by the wind and snow, but it could not warm the desolate wasteland deep within her eyes.
The scroll quickly curled, charred, and turned to ashes in the flames. The bright firelight illuminated the silent tears rolling down her cheeks. The tears were scalding hot, sliding down her cold cheeks and dripping onto the snow, instantly melting into a small indentation.
She simply watched silently. She watched her mother's final face turn to ashes in the flames, watched the nightmare that had imprisoned her mother for a lifetime be utterly destroyed. The firelight danced in her tearful eyes, like a silent memorial, or a belated release.
The snow fell heavier and heavier. The pure white snowflakes fluttered down, landing on her dark hair and shoulders, and also on the pile of ashes that was gradually dying down, leaving only a few dark red embers, gently covering them.
Beneath the plum tree, Mu Lian's figure stood alone, straight as a spear, lingering for a long time amidst the swirling snow and the lingering warmth of ashes. The wind and snow whipped at the hem of her dark robe, fluttering like a banner summoning a spirit…
One year later.
After the Empress dealt swiftly with Liu Zhang, the military governor of Luocheng, Li Chong, the Prince of Ruyang, and others, a new atmosphere immediately emerged both inside and outside the court. The government was clean and efficient, the people were at peace, and there was no trouble in the surrounding areas. The Daxing Dynasty once again ushered in a period of "restoration".
On this day, Mu Lian submitted his third memorial requesting to resign and return to his hometown. The Empress stroked the memorial in her hand, remaining silent for a long time, a deep melancholy seemingly churning within her dark eyes.
"Ah Lian, have you thought it through?" The Empress had forgotten how long it had been since she had called out this name, her gaze still fixed on the character "Lian" in the memorial. The ink on the character was dark and thick, clearly indicating that it was not written at the same time as the memorial itself.
Lowering her head even further, Mu Lian took a deep breath and nodded cautiously. Now that the Mu family's great revenge had been avenged, she had no more attachments; moreover, who in the world didn't know that the head of the Judicial Office was the Empress's weapon? Now that the cunning rabbit was dead, she, the lackey, would likely not have a good end either. If she withdrew now, perhaps there would still be a glimmer of hope; otherwise, if too much time passed and their feelings faded, even leaving a complete corpse would be difficult.
A tense atmosphere hung in the air. The Empress's slender fingers tapped repeatedly on the elegantly written character "潋" (Lian), producing a dull thud in the empty imperial study. The Court of Judicial Review always held the secrets of the court, and Mu Lian's duties were of paramount importance. His sudden departure now might... The Empress's tapping fingers abruptly stopped, her eyes narrowing, a hint of murderous intent flashing within them. Since wielding power, she hadn't harmed her own people in a long time.
"Your Majesty, please have some tea..." Just then, a deep, mellow voice rang out at the door. The Empress looked up and saw Zhang Songzhi, dressed in white, gracefully entering with a teacup in hand.
Zhang Songzhi seemed to have dressed up carefully today, his white robe with gold trim exuding elegance and nobility. A faint scent of pine wafted from his movements, bringing a touch of freshness and comfort to the somber imperial study. Youyou took the teacup from Zhang Songzhi's hand, and the two exchanged a glance; the melancholy in the Empress's eyes slowly dissipated.
The Empress stroked the character "潋" again, looked at Mu Lian who was still bowing her head, and sighed, "Then let it be as A-Lian wishes."
In late spring, March, the capital city was a time of blooming flowers and fluttering birds. The day Mu Lian moved out of the somber stone office of the Judicial Office was a rare, beautiful day. Standing on the steps, she looked up at the clear blue sky and squinted uncomfortably. Accustomed for years to the cramped view concealed by a silver mask, she was now suddenly greeted by this vast expanse of light, even the gentle breeze carrying an unprecedented sense of freedom.
With the resignation letter approved, the handover of official seals and documents became much simpler. The Empress's decree was issued swiftly, granting him not only permission to retire but also bestowing upon him an exquisite mansion in the east of the capital, along with a considerable amount of gold, silver, and silk. This was a way of acknowledging the bond between the Empress and her subject over the years and a gesture of leniency towards a meritorious former official. The eunuch who delivered the decree was respectful and spoke with impeccable discretion, but Mu Lian still sensed in his overly cautious wording a final test and reassurance from the royal family towards someone who knew too many secrets.
She understood perfectly, and calmly thanked the emperor and accepted the imperial decree. Returning to the old house that held countless glories and sorrows of the Mu family—now restored and renovated by the empress—the first thing Mu Lian did was to enter the ancestral hall and, before the memorial tablets of her parents and younger brother, personally remove the silver mask that had accompanied her for nearly eight years and had become a symbol of fear throughout the court and the country.
The cold metal left her face, bringing a strange sense of detachment. She gently placed the mask on the altar, opposite the silent memorial tablets. In the flickering candlelight, the mask's empty eye sockets gleamed coldly, as if it were the end of an era.
"Father, Mother, Brother," she whispered in prayer, her voice clear and melodious, a voice long forgotten and belonging to a woman her age, rather than the cold, suppressed tone she used to intimidate her subordinates. "The injustice done to the Mu family has been redressed, and the enemy has been killed. A-Lian... has returned..."
She no longer wore any coverings.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com