LBLCPCB C24

Chapter 24

After days of rain, the skies finally cleared. Dark clouds broke apart, sunlight spilled through, and cheers from the city drifted over the high walls into the tense Provincial Yamen.

From within, Zhu Song opened the door. His reddened eyes showed a sleepless night; his clothes looked as if they’d been crumpled and toyed with for ten years. Look closer, and even his steps were slightly unsteady.

Worried, Zhu Lingye asked at once, “Brother, how are you?”

Yi Kangning laughed freely. “A night of spring breeze, Lord Zhu—how delightful, how congratulatory indeed!”

Zhu Lingye shot him a sharp look. “Speak nonsense again and do not blame me for what follows.”

Unfazed, Yi spread his hands. “Whether it’s nonsense—we can go in and see.”

Yi’s brazen confidence, and Zhu Song’s odd condition—Zhu Lingye even noticed scratch marks hidden at Zhu’s collar, clearly not self‑inflicted—made doubt creep in.

Zhu Song’s eyes turned cold on Yi Kangning. His face expressionless, he gave the order: “Jizhou Prefect Yi Kangning has attempted harm against an imperial envoy. Crime beyond pardon. Seize him, lock him in the dungeon, strict watch—no one is to approach him.”

Yi’s smile drained away. He glared. “Are you certain, Lord Zhu?”

Zhu Song flicked a glance at Lingye. “Still standing there? Did you not hear me?”

Lingye seized Yi at once. Yi struggled, shouting toward the room, “Fengli! Come out! Fengli, come out!”

“Shut up,” Zhu Lingye snapped, ramming a cloth into his mouth. Amid Yi’s muffled curses, he escorted him to the dungeon.

Zhu Song swept a hard gaze across the gathered officers. “By imperial appointment and with the granted Imperial Sword, I am charged with the Jizhou case and empowered over all its affairs. Oppose me, and I will not be merciful. Understood?”

Thundered heartbeats, fear in their eyes. “Understood!”

Zhu Song asked, “What did you hear last night?”

They hesitated. Silence thickened. Zhu’s brows knit deeper. “Absurd. If one more lie is told, I will make an example and cleanse the Jizhou bureaucracy.”

Cold sweat broke across faces. None dared meet another’s eyes. Zhu had no time for this. “Speak. Or all shall be held to account.”

Finally, they stammered: “We… heard strange sounds. Like…” “Like someone crying…” “As if begging for mercy…” “Broken, unclear…”

Rage leapt hot in Zhu’s chest. That idiot Yi Kangning meant to grind his face into the dirt. If this was not clarified today, neither he nor Wen Fengxuan would survive the court’s judgment. “Yi Kangning summoned you?”

This time the answer came quick. “Yes.”

“What else did he say?”

“He only told us to stand guard. Nothing else.”

“Stand guard—afraid I’d run?” Zhu’s voice iced. “I sit straight and walk upright, but that does not make me anyone’s soft persimmon. None of you leave this post. I shall see exactly how he intends to slander me.”

Their certainty wavered; Zhu’s open stance unsettled their earlier assumptions.

Soon, Zhu Lingye returned. “Brother, Yi Kangning is locked up.”

“The rain has stopped,” Zhu said. “Have Lingwang seek out Lord Zhang and ask if the rains will return. If not, begin arranging for the refugees to return home.”

Lingye nodded—then hesitated. “Without funds—how?”

Homes swept away, fields drowned—sending them back empty‑handed was the same as pointing them off a cliff.

“Then Yi Kangning will disgorge every tael he swallowed,” Zhu replied.

He did not lower his voice nor hide the words. The officers heard every syllable, stunned faces unable to conceal their shock.

“I will interrogate him. His Highness and I staged a play last night; he is now resting. Tell the kitchen to prepare food.”

Lingye blinked. “Highness? Which Highness has come?”

Zhu cut him a look. Lingye understood the purpose of speaking thus in public and shifted tack. “And why would His Highness perform a play with you?”

Zhu asked back, “Why else?”

“Relief funds!” Lingye cried, in feigned enlightenment.

“Softer,” Zhu chided, equally feigned. “Walls have ears. I’m going to question Yi.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No need. See to your tasks.”

“Yes.”

Before the dungeon, Zhu first stopped at the kitchen for ten buns and two bowls of porridge. Only after taking the edge off the hunger did he go.

With manpower needed for relief, the cells were empty—Yi alone occupied the last one. Zhu took the keys and walked in alone, footsteps echoing loud on stone.

Yi strained to peer out before he arrived. Seeing Zhu’s calm, a guilty prickle ran through him. He should not have let Fengli go—an outsider was unreliable. He had been careless.

Yi struck first. “Lord Zhu, what is the meaning of this? To imprison a regional governor without cause—Imperial Sword or not, you have no such right.”

Zhu’s most urgent goal was the antidote. He kept his tone measured, even relaxing his face. “Yi‑daren, before laying snares for me, you should have checked whom you were dealing with.”

The words told Yi what he needed: Fengli had turned. He pasted on a smile. “Lord Zhu, misunderstanding! You toil day and night. I merely meant to add a little pleasure to ease your burdens. No malice.”

Zhu returned a perfect smile. “I thought so too. A capital envoy and a local prefect—without this great flood, we would never cross paths.”

“Yes, yes,” Yi bobbed eagerly, unsure of Zhu’s intent but liking his tone. “Why would I make things hard? Even if the Emperor favored me with a transfer to the capital, I’d never be competing with you.”

Zhu’s smile grew. “Exactly. The skies are clear. I won’t be in Jizhou long. I hoped we might tidy things together and let it rest. But you seem to have other ideas.”

“No—no!” Yi protested. “I will cooperate fully.”

“Then I’ll speak plainly,” Zhu said. “Though I did not touch the one you sent last night, I greatly disapprove of your poisoning him. Hand me the antidote. Then we turn the page—and remain colleagues.”

Yi blinked. “Poison? I didn’t poison him.”

Zhu’s smile faded. He stared unblinking. “So—you still won’t cooperate?”

“No—no, I will, truly,” Yi sputtered. “But I didn’t poison him. Truly I didn’t.”

Zhu’s face chilled. “If you did not, how would he dance to your tune?”

Yi’s features scrunched with panic. “I told him that if the deed were done, I’d ensure his whole family lived in silk and meat all their days. He agreed readily. Why would I need poison?”

Zhu snorted. “Save that story for children. You take me for a fool?”

Yi all but folded in half from anxiety, babbling, “I truly didn’t. The urgency last night—where would I even find poison?”

Zhu stepped closer. Taller than Yi, his brows like swords and features cut from stone—stern as a judge when he did not smile. His anger made his voice ring low and dangerous. “You refuse to produce the antidote?”

Yi clung to the line. “If I never poisoned him—where would I find an antidote? Lord Zhu—who told you I did?”

Zhu’s eyes narrowed. He spoke, each word weighted. “Do you think the Crown Prince would lie?”

Yi’s face went from troubled to shocked. “The… Crown Prince?”

As the words left him, the fault line he’d sensed clicked into place. With such a face—if that man were ordinary—what would have become of him by now?

“All this time and you never investigated his background?” Zhu’s voice was ice.

“I… saw him among refugees,” Yi stammered, stumbling back, “thought he was some fallen son of a noble house. How—how could he be the Crown Prince?”

“You need not tremble so,” Zhu said coldly. “His Highness and I share acquaintance. He is merciful and low‑key. Hand me the antidote, and we close this matter.”

Yi slumped into the chair, eyes pleading, head shaking. “I don’t have it. Truly.”

Zhu’s gaze grew frigid. “Soft words don’t move you? Then I’ll use hard ones. Perhaps you’ve not heard of the Judicial Court’s tools. Nine out of ten are brand new—for most confess at the sight. You are in your prime, Yi‑daren. I wonder how many strokes you can bear.”

Gray‑faced, Yi could only repeat, “I truly did not poison him.”

Zhu flicked his sleeve, rage kept on a tight leash, and turned.

“Apply the instruments.”

Footnote

 

1. “Spring breeze once” (春風一度) — idiom alluding to sexual intercourse; Yi taunts Zhu with this crude insinuation.