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    Chapter 108

    Before long, Liang Bozhan hurried in; his haste showed—his sash was misbound, and his shoes were on the wrong feet.

    “For this matter, I will certainly give Young Master Huai a full accounting—Elder Brother, please do not be angry.”

    “An accounting? And how will you account for it? Was ruining my examination career back then not enough—now you mean to ruin my disciple as well?!”

    At that, Liang Bozhan dropped to his knees with a thud, eyes bloodshot. “Elder Brother, you must not say such things of me. I knew nothing of that year—and it was not my doing. Do not wrong me so!”

    Master Liang snorted. “Then what precisely is tonight? Is this how you have ‘managed’ the household these years? A maid daring to climb a bed! If this gets out, the whole of Yangzhou will laugh its teeth out!”

    He had no rebuttal; the fault this time did lie at his door. He swallowed and ordered the house steward to investigate at once, through the night.

    The household counted thirty-four maids and matrons. To avoid missing anyone, Steward Liang Li summoned them all to stand in a row in the outer court.

    It was deep night—most had just been roused from bed, blinking, bewildered.

    Liang Li’s face was set. “Which maid entered Young Master Huai’s room tonight—step forward of your own accord.”

    The women looked at one another in dismay, heads shaking. Though they tended household affairs, they rarely set foot in the elder master’s compound; Master Liang had his own personal attendants and disliked strangers near his court.

    With no admission, interrogation had to be one by one. With just over thirty, it went quickly. Four were marked as suspicious—they had been out that evening.

    The four girls were of similar age, eighteen or nineteen, on their knees and shaking, not knowing what storm they were caught in.

    Liang Li pointed to one. “You first. Name. Why were you out tonight?”

    The maid kowtowed. “This slave is Xiaoxia. After supper, my bowels churned. I was in the privy for a quarter-hour and then returned—did not go out again.”

    “The privy?”

    “Truly! Truly—Heaven’s own truth. I passed so much—”

    Liang Li’s brows pinched. The girl’s manners were coarse, her looks plain—hardly the sort to be used in bed-trap schemes.

    “Next.”

    “This slave is Qingya, helper in the kitchen. After supper I returned to my duties. Mama Zhang had me peel a basket of garlic for tomorrow. No one may have seen it, but the cloves are in the kitchen; my thumbnails are split from peeling.”

    She showed her hands; the nails of thumb and forefinger were indeed cracked. The steward said nothing, but his gaze flicked toward the kitchen matron behind. Dragging a girl out of bed to peel a basket of garlic at midnight spoke to bullying—the old hags, grown arrogant with years in service, fancied themselves half-mistresses and commanded without a blink.

    The third was named Chunchao. Compared with the others, she stood out—tall, features fine; even in coarse cloth, her looks could not be hidden.

    Liang Li narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. “Chunchao. Where did you go tonight?”

    “This slave
 this slave did nothing. I felt stifled and went out to get air—only half a quarter and I was back.”

    “To get air?”

    Head bowed, she faltered. “I would not dare lie.”

    The fourth at least was straightforward—she admitted to meeting a lover; worse, the lover was Liang Bozhan’s concubine-born son. Bozhan, white with fury, had the boy called and boxed his ears twice on the spot.

    All four denied entering Chen Qinghuai’s chamber. Who lied, who told truth?

    As the stalemate stretched, Chen Qingyan whispered in his cousin’s ear.

    Summoning his courage, Qinghuai spoke up. “The intruder left in a hurry and tore her clothing on my bedframe—a strip of cloth remained
”

    He had not finished before two pages seized Chunchao by the arms.

    “My lords, I am wronged!” she cried. “I did not enter the young master’s room!”

    Master Liang paced over, hands clasped behind his back. “When Huai spoke, the others glanced at each other’s hems. Only you looked down at your own. Have you anything left to quibble?”

    “I am wronged—I only looked down, not at my hem!” She tried to wriggle free in words, but Liang Li gave her no room.

    Men sent to her quarters found a trove of gold and silver ornaments in her chest—far beyond what a maid might ever wear. Unable to account for their origin, she stood a thief.

    By statute: theft under ten qian, thirty blows; over ten strings, fifty blows; over a hundred strings, tattooing and exile. Her trinkets totaled well above one hundred strings—enough for the brand and the road.

    At that, fear broke her. She knocked her head to the floor. “Spare me, my lord—spare me! Someone paid this slave to approach Young Master Huai—promised that if it succeeded I’d be taken as his concubine, and rewarded with a great sum of silver!”

    “Who?” Master Liang bit out.

    “This slave does not know—only that an outer-court servant called Liang Er met me. The jewelry—he brought those too.”

    Ill luck for Liang Li—the boy was his own nephew; the father served Second Master Liang Botao. Note 1

    Liang Li’s face blued; he glanced at the two masters.

    Liang Bozhan needed no more to see the shape of it. The elder’s return had been underlined by his high seriousness; a move like this, ordered by Second Brother, would both enrage the elder and throw suspicion on him—deliberate and vicious.

    That he would sink to such tricks!

    Master Liang, too, had the matter clear. He lifted a weary hand. “Take the girl to custody. The rest—disperse. Not a word leaves this compound. If I learn otherwise, I will not forgive.”

    “Yes!” Liang Li moved to have Chunchao removed, and the others filed back to bed.

    After such tumult, sleep was past saving; they remained in the elder’s room.

    Master Liang soothed Qinghuai. “You did well—not falling to a seduction. In office, you may meet all manner of situations; crude tricks like this are simple—but effective. They can unseat your innermost steadiness. If the inner chambers are not at peace, all fails. Remember it.”

    Qinghuai and Qingyan nodded deeply. In their small town, one-wife households were the norm; concubinage was uncommon. Their fathers had each married only once; in their bones, they held that a man should take but one wife.

    “Second will come in the morning,” Master Liang said. “I will have him lay it out and clear your name.”

    “Perhaps
 let it go?” Qinghuai murmured. Liang Botao was already of years, and no irreversible harm had been done.

    Qingyan squeezed his arm and shook his head. This was not merely about Huai—it was a contest among brothers. Best they kept out of it.

    At first light, Liang Li led men to the second lord’s quarters and summoned all concerned.

    Liang Botao came feigning ignorance. “Elder Brother, calling me so early—what has happened?”

    Master Liang cleared the room, leaving only Bozhan with them. “With no outsiders present, there’s no need to dissemble. The maid was at your orders, was she not?”

    “I don’t understand what you say.”

    Bozhan pushed forward, urgent. “The maid was instructed by Liang Er—whose father serves by your side. You didn’t know?”

    Botao forced a smile. “Third Brother, I still don’t follow. ‘My orders’? Have you proof?”

    “Oh, very good. Must I tear the veil before you’ll admit it?”

    “On a charge contrived, who lacks a pretext?”

    “Enough—both of you, stop.” Master Liang slammed the table; they fell still.

    A sleepless night had left the elder pale; he coughed twice into a closed fist. “Second. I have long known you placed a crib in my inkstone. I have not spoken these years because Father, at his end, begged me to let it pass. Out of filial respect, I did not reveal it. But why will you not change your nature?”

    Blood drained from Botao’s face. “E
 Elder Brother, what are you saying?”

    “The day before the provincial exam, you entered my study and switched my inkstone, hiding the original in the five-drawer chest in the east wing.”

    “N-no—no, I did not—”

    “I investigated every soul in my study after the scandal broke. The sweeper boy saw you slip in. I recovered the switched inkstone myself. Had Father not stayed my hand, you would have been sent down to the country there and then.”

    “Impossible
” He kept shaking his head—whether in disbelief that his brother knew, or that Father had blocked retribution, even he did not know.

    “Why else do you think Father sent you out early—separating your household?”

    Botao slumped, cold sweat dripping off his brow. His heavy face sagged and quivered like a soaked boar—disgust welled in the onlooker.

    Bozhan added, “Liang Er has confessed. His father took a trove of silver and gold, had him find a maid to climb the bed and place blame on me—smearing the reputations of the three young gentlemen. Only you did not reckon on Elder Brother’s students being men of upright core.”

    Suddenly Botao howled. “How is it my fault? Tell me how! I was two years behind you, compared to you from birth. You—legitimate eldest—Father’s favorite; bright beyond measure, a child prodigy. You took all the world’s good.

    “The same father’s son—and I the butt of jokes!”

    “Six years old—it was just such a winter. Father took you to call on friends. I begged to go—he did not wish to take me, but at last, wearied by my pestering, he did—only to leave me outside, not permitted to set foot in the hall—left to sit in the carriage with the boy.

    “Yangzhou’s eleventh month is bitter cold. I sat in the carriage waiting, the sun slanted west, and you were still not out. I went back hungry and exhausted and fell into a grave sickness. Father
 Father never said even a word of comfort!

    “What father is that? What father!”

    Master Liang did not recall that incident—but as a child, Father had indeed liked to take him when visiting; early-bright and blessed with a prodigious memory, he had mastered the Four Books and Five Classics as a boy—and Liang senior had used him as a token of pride, trotted out to amaze guests.

    In time, the elder came to hate such outings—he was no monkey for a ring; he did not enjoy being gaped at.

    He had not imagined that a boyhood display could wound a concubine-brother so deeply.

    Beside him, Bozhan said coldly, “Whatever the case, this is no reason to harm others. Father favored Elder Brother for his talents. Had you talent, would he not have favored you?”

    “Easy to say when you stand unbent.” Botao sneered. “If it weren’t for your vixen of a mother, would you be managing this vast estate?”

    “How dare you insult my mother!” Bozhan’s hand flashed for his face. Two men in their forties tumbled together like schoolboys.

    Master Liang’s palm cracked the table again. “Enough! Let go—both of you!” He raised his voice. “Attend me! Attend!”

     

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