Chapter 76: The Greatest Crime
Within Yong’an City, there was no curfew; at night, the streets were brightly lit, especially Yiru Street, which was festooned with lanterns in full splendor.
Yesterday, a new batch of young ladies and gentlemen had arrived from Yangzhou in the south, and both the Tianxiang Tower and Songzhu Pavilion had returned to their former bustling glory.
Carriages clattered along the long street. Han Min lifted the curtain to take a glance. Candlelight shone bright; guests came and went.
“Everything else remains the same, only these two towers… they’ll never change,” he murmured.
Fu Xun said, “Everything will change eventually. Just take it slowly.”
Han Min nodded and glanced further back—another carriage was following.
He asked, “Bringing Princess Rongning to a place like this… isn’t it inappropriate?”
“Zhao Cun will be coming today. Let her come see for herself. Besides, there are so many young masters here at Songzhu Pavilion—it’s good for her to witness it. That way she won’t pester you later.”
Han Min retracted his hand and settled back into his seat.
Li Shu sat across from him, inadvertently meeting his gaze, but quickly turned his head away.
Han Min knew that his little uncle was an upright man. But regarding Ji Heng’s matter, he worried Li Shu might misunderstand. He wanted to remind him subtly, but wasn’t sure how. Saying too much would make him seem meddlesome.
He pondered for a moment, then said, “Little Uncle, did you visit the Grand Princess a few days ago?”
The Grand Princess was the emperor’s aunt.
Li Shu quickly understood his meaning—the Grand Princess was, in fact, the legitimate sister of his non-royal nephew, Li Shu.
Han Min added, “Zhu’er will be reaching adulthood in a few years.”
This was the legitimate nephew of Li Shu, despite the different surname. Though he was a non-royal prince, he was recorded in the royal genealogy; he had a legitimate sister and nephew. As for Madam Ji and Ji Heng, the support they’d received over the years was already sufficient. Continuing to meddle would only bring disorder.
That was enough said.
Li Shu smiled at him openly; Han Min returned the smile.
Just then, a carriage stopped in front of Songzhu Pavilion. The attendants set down footrests. Fu Xun rose, grasped Han Min’s hand, and led him away.
Li Shu also descended, followed by Zhao Yin.
She frowned briefly but quickly accepted the situation.
Having decided to kill her brother and betray the state, why should she avoid the male wind hall?
Besides, now she was opposing all the Song envoys; the courier inn was filled with their men. It was quite appropriate for her to be here.
She walked slowly up the steps.
Zhao Yin’s expression was calm. Fu Xun, walking ahead, betrayed displeasure even in his back. He held Han Min’s hand tightly, lips pressed thin, gaze cold. The young masters avoided him, but if anyone’s sleeve brushed Han Min, he would scowl and pull Han Min closer to himself.
A young master in white, holding a zither, came forward to greet them. Fu Xun nodded slightly and, without speaking to Han Min, led him past the young master.
They climbed a few wooden steps when someone called out to the white-clad master, “Master Yun, the prince has arrived.”
Master Yun looked back. Sure enough, Prince Zhao Cun of Guangning entered, flanked by a few attendants.
The siblings were separated by the staircase corner. Zhao Yin glanced back, then calmly lifted her skirt and walked away.
Master Yun smiled, approaching Zhao Cun. “Prince has arrived?”
Zhao Cun’s expression was cold; only the corners of his brows moved slightly. “Mm.”
A month ago, Zhao Cun had been brought to Songzhu Pavilion by a servant. He fell in love at first sight with Master Yun, who was both strikingly beautiful and a masterful zither player.
Since then, he often visited Songzhu Pavilion, requesting Yun to play and even reserving a private room there.
The servants stayed outside while Master Yun placed his zither on the table. “What would you like to hear today, Prince?”
Zhao Cun sat opposite, tossing the jade pendant in his hand. “Whatever you wish.”
Master Yun nodded and plucked the strings.
Most young masters at Songzhu Pavilion were skilled with instruments. To avoid disturbing them, the walls were much thicker than normal: first built with blue bricks, then covered with wood, creating excellent soundproofing.
The room Zhao Cun reserved had one wall hollowed out after he took it, leaving only two thin wooden panels.
Zhao Yin sat behind that wall, listening clearly to their conversation.
The zither’s melody was deep and mellow until a sudden sharp note broke the music.
Master Yun said, “Forgive me. I noticed the prince seemed distracted. Perhaps my music displeased you, causing your mind to wander…”
Zhao Cun’s tone softened slightly. “It’s not your fault.”
“But…” Yun hesitated, then said, “I’ll fetch another zither.”
“No need.”
“I’ll just keep you company here then,” Yun offered gently.
Zhao Cun appreciated this deeply. Having been neglected since childhood, he had relied on others’ favor for survival. Even as a prince, he knew it was his sister’s doing. People constantly reminded him, intentionally or not, and he resented her dominance—later transforming into hatred.
But now, someone obeyed him wholeheartedly, calling him “Duke,” and relied on him. Naturally, he liked it.
After a pause, Master Yun asked softly, “Prince, are you troubled? Though I am powerless, I wish to help ease your worries.”
Zhao Cun paused, annoyed. “That Chu Yu returned the attendants I sent for interrogation tonight.”
Zhao Yin in the adjacent room understood immediately—no wonder that Chu didn’t accompany him; he’d been delivering corpses.
Master Yun said, “Isn’t that good? They can serve you again, no?”
Zhao Cun slammed something onto the table with a loud clatter.
“They only returned a corpse, claiming they were too rough during questioning and asking for forgiveness. They also sent a group of attendants.”
Master Yun looked shocked. “Is that so?”
Zhao Cun’s voice rose. “That was my favorite attendant! They beat him to death without care, clearly showing disrespect. And the extra attendants? They’re spies, trying to infiltrate me. Do they think I won’t notice?”
Master Yun could only sigh lightly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Earlier, the emperor whimsically instituted labor reform at Songzhu Pavilion. This Chu Yu was in charge.”
“Did he bully you?”
Zhao Cun didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up his zither.
“Did he bully you?” Yun pressed.
Still silent, leaving the answer for Zhao Cun to figure out himself. Of course he was bullied.
They sat in quiet contemplation. Finally, Master Yun whispered, “Prince, forgive my meddling. But I feel the Qi court doesn’t regard people like us as human.”
Hearing this, Zhao Cun’s pity for the beauty and resentment toward Qi rose simultaneously.
Master Yun continued, “The emperor only knows military affairs, not governance. Ruling the world while the people suffer—what good is it?”
Zhao Cun smiled faintly. “True. Don’t worry, once I return to Song, I’ll take you with me…”
“Going alone to Song is pointless. I just hope Song attacks soon, so someone can take charge…”
He acted as if enlightened, brushing off Zhao Cun’s hand. “I spoke too much. I’ll fetch another zither. Wait, Duke.”
Zhao Cun remained, deep in thought.
When Yun mentioned, “I just hope Song attacks soon,” an unprecedented idea surged in Zhao Cun’s mind.
Why wait for Song to attack?
Startled by his own bold thought, he calmed his racing heart and sat down.
Zhao Yin heard everything clearly.
Years of being siblings, she naturally knew what mischief Zhao Cun had in mind.
She silently smiled and left.
After chasing outside with Fu Xun all afternoon, no one had eaten much.
Leaving Zhao Yin to listen to Zhao Cun, Fu Xun’s group ate pastries in another room.
Songzhu Pavilion’s pastries were delicate and flavorful.
Han Min broke open a white jade-like dumpling, curious about the filling—red bean. Fu Xun grabbed half and teasingly smiled.
Han Min looked at him, then generously handed over the other half.
Usually, when Fu Xun took his food, Han Min would scold him, even glaring despite Li Shu’s presence. Today, he even handed over the remaining half.
Fu Xun, overwhelmed by the favor, didn’t know what to do.
He pushed Han Min’s hand back. “You eat. I just wanted to see… if it’s good.”
Han Min smiled. “I tried two already, fillings different, quite tasty.”
He stuffed half into his mouth, then looked for more to try.
Fu Xun observed his jade-like profile, noticing something different today. He bit into a pastry—soft, sweet—like a peeled Han Min.
Han Min sampled all pastries on the table, selecting the best for Fu Xun.
“These are the best,” he said.
Fu Xun noticed the light in Han Min’s eyes—he was truly different today.
Ignoring the system’s warnings, Han Min was open and generous. Was it wrong to treat someone he liked well?
Fu Xun tried one. The pastry Han Min personally chose was better than what he had stolen before.
Though not fond of sweets, he liked them because Han Min did.
After eating most, he still wanted more—sweetly intoxicated by Han Min.
After a while, Li Shu could no longer bear it and cleared his throat.
Fu Xun snapped out of it. “Little Uncle, you should try this—it’s really good.”
Li Shu asked, “Princess Rongning hasn’t arrived. What does Your Majesty think?”
“She will come.”
Leaving Zhao Yin alone gave her a choice. Though ruthless, she still cared for family. She hesitated until hearing Zhao Cun’s attendants confirm his ill intent before believing him.
Only when she resolved to act would Fu Xun trust her.
Sure enough, there was a knock.
Han Min opened the door, initially calling her Princess Rongning, then realized: “…Miss Zhao.”
Zhao Yin smiled, “Lord Han Min.”
Han Min closed the door. Zhao Yin saluted Fu Xun lightly.
She said calmly, “His Majesty’s people are skilled; a few words have already stirred Zhao Cun’s thoughts.”
Fu Xun ignored her, focusing on the pastries Han Min selected.
To provoke Zhao Cun into committing a great crime, a zither-playing Yun alone wouldn’t suffice.
Zhao Yin was too clever; if she sided with Zhao Cun, things wouldn’t go smoothly.
Thus, Fu Xun had to sow discord between the siblings.
Zhao Yin continued: “To execute a Song envoy within Qi, they must commit a serious crime. The gravest crime cannot exceed treason. Zhao Cun already has thoughts of usurping the throne. If Master Yun fans the flames a few more times… I know him too well; he has no brains and will follow whatever others say—”
Zhao Cun wasn’t exactly foolish, just inferior to his sister.
“Those who usually lack brains, when they start using them… that’s most dangerous. Everyone says so—even I egg him on. Say it enough times, he might believe it. Once he’s prepared and it escalates, everyone will know. Then he can be charged with treason, the Song envoy with aiding a usurper. Even Song’s ruler won’t interfere.”
Fu Xun stayed silent; Zhao Yin realized he understood.
For him, dealing with Zhao Cun and the envoy personally brought no benefit, only risk to the throne and the people.
Fu Xun could have sent Zhao Cun away immediately but left him, planting the seed of treason.
Zhao Yin asked, “What does His Majesty want?”
Fu Xun glanced at her. Zhao Yin continued: “Zhao Cun plans usurpation under the guise of an envoy mission. His Majesty will be furious. When he questions Song, I can mediate. Though Song doesn’t know, Zhao Cun is their son and envoy; they must appease His Majesty. What does His Majesty want?”
Fu Xun: “You’ll know later.”
“Now…”
“Go provoke him.”
“But…”
To usurp, one needs military power. Zhao Cun, though foolish, isn’t that naive to think the Song envoys could join him and storm Qi’s palace.
Fu Xun glanced at Li Shu: “There will be soldiers—our Qi army.”
If Zhao Cun refuses, Fu Xun creates conditions to push him onto this smooth yet brief path.
Only if he attempts usurpation will there be consequences to write about.
After talking a while, Zhao Yin, wary of suspicion, prepared to return to the courier inn.
Fearing Fu Xun’s change of mind, she drew a small dagger across her palm. Blood dripped as she raised her hand in oath: “Today, I sever all ties with the Song royal family. From now on, I dedicate myself fully to Qi’s cause.”
Fu Xun smirked. “Is that necessary?”
“Once Your Majesty gets what he wants, I hope you protect me.”
“Of course.”
They agreed. Zhao Yin accepted the handkerchief Han Min offered and bandaged her palm.
“Lord Han, will you escort me?”
Han Min paused, knowing she had something to say, then agreed: “…Very well.”
Fu Xun insisted on joining. They walked out: Fu Xun ahead, Han Min and Zhao Yin side by side, Li Shu at the rear.
Zhao Yin pinched her palm, asking, “Lord Han, in your scholarly view, is this unfilial, disloyal?”
Han Min shook his head: “A loyal lord serves a true lord; a filial child honors a true parent. If the ruler or father is unworthy, one need not force loyalty or filial piety.”
“You speak more wisely than Song’s pedantic scholars. They pride themselves on central orthodoxy, yet fall short of your learning.”
Fu Xun looked back at Han Min with quiet resentment.
Han Min puzzled: “What is it?”
Fu Xun beckoned him over. Han Min approached silently, grasping his wrist—so Zhao Yin could see:
—He is mine, decided since childhood.
At the gate, Zhao Yin saluted, then boarded the carriage.
Fu Xun pushed Han Min in, glancing at Li Shu.
“Little Uncle, prepare the Xuanhu army’s military token tonight; it will be needed.”
“Yes.”
Han Min poked his head out: “Little Uncle, will you still protect Ji Heng?”
Li Shu was silent, then said: “Let me test him one last time.”
That night, Li Shu took Ji Heng from his warm bed, raising a whip.
Ji Heng, groggy, and Madam Ji came crying.
“He’s already been in the Dali Temple for you once. You want to beat him to death? You’re his uncle!”
Li Shu: “For me? He only acted for his own amusement. Sister, ask him: what heretical words did he speak this afternoon at the Dali Temple?”
Ji Heng had been confined too long and lost his wits, asking Li Shu, “Do you want to be emperor?”
Recalling it, he broke into cold sweat.
Madam Ji asked; he dared not answer, bowing to the ground.
Li Shu continued: “When you said that, did you consider others were present? Were you not afraid they’d report this to the emperor? Were you not afraid the whole Xinwang residence would perish for you? Luckily, the emperor trusted me; otherwise, neither of us would survive.”
Ji Heng’s expression shifted slightly. “The emperor trusted my uncle. That’s enough. But uncle… why return so late?”
“You think the emperor would trust me otherwise? I knelt before him for two full hours…”
He left it unsaid, dropping the whip to the ground and turning away.
Ji Heng’s friendship with Zhao Cun meant that if Ji Heng repeated anything, Zhao Cun would know, leaving Ji Heng with no leverage once matters settled.
Discontent between the emperor and Xinwang was the perfect opportunity. Xinwang controlled the army; if Zhao Cun attempted usurpation, he would come.
If Ji Heng stayed silent, he had heard but not acted. Li Shu would still protect him.
This was Li Shu’s final test.
The next day was the grand court assembly on the first day of July.
Han Min was on duty, following Fu Xun into Zichen Hall.
Beside the dragon throne was a small stool—Han’s personal stool.
Ministers presented trivial petitions. Then the Minister of Rites said, “I have a memorial,” stepping forward and bowing.
“Your Majesty, the autumn hunt in September approaches. Preparations should begin in July.”
Autumn hunts were ceremonial, praying for harvest and practicing martial skills, overseen by the Ministry of Rites.
Fu Xun said, “Proceed as in previous years.”
The Minister of Rites bowed again. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The Minister of War stepped forward: “Generals are dispatched to clear hunting grounds and ensure safety. Which general this year?”
Fu Xun asked, “Who last year?”
“Xinwang.”
Li Shu stepped forward, bowing low.
Fu Xun glanced at him; through the crown’s tassels, his gaze seemed cold.
Earlier, he replied quickly. This time, he flipped the petitions silently, tapping them urgently on the table.
The ministers realized: His Majesty was displeased—over Xinwang.
After a long time, Fu Xun tossed the petitions onto the table.
“This year, let Wei return. Xinwang is old; he shouldn’t always be tasked.”
Wei Gu looked confused, nudged by a colleague to acknowledge the order.
As Li Shu was about to leave, Fu Xun added: “I recall Xinwang returned some time ago, but half of the Xuanhu army’s token hasn’t been submitted. Take it today after court.”
“Yes.”
After court, others congratulated Wei Gu.
“This is a good assignment. Not only clearing grounds, but accompanying His Majesty—promotion is sure if the emperor is pleased.”
Some allies spoke to Li Shu: “His Majesty is considerate. Xinwang has done this for years; now he gets a break. He should rest and consider personal matters.”
Li Shu shook his head. “I’ll prepare the military token; you all go ahead.”
He descended Zichen Hall quickly, leaving ministers bewildered.
Xinwang and the emperor were close—uncle and nephew. The emperor had been taught archery by both the late emperor and Xinwang. Later, Li Shu led him in the northwest until he could stand independently. When Gongwang tried to seize power, Xinwang led the army to escort the emperor.
Now, they seemed at odds.
A cunning ruler fears powerful ministers. Xinwang still held military tokens. No wonder the emperor demanded their submission.
After submitting the tokens, Xinwang stayed home, leaving the capital. The emperor’s edict essentially confined him. Rumors of mistrust spread quietly in Yong’an.
Those hoping to sway him stirred with ambition.
That day, Fu Xun reviewed memorials in Funing Palace. Claiming hand pain, he asked Han Min to stay and write for him.
Han Min read several memorials: “All petitions plead for my uncle, claiming his loyalty and begging His Majesty for mercy.”
Fu Xun said nothing.
Han Min added: “He must be restless cooped up in the mansion.”
Fu Xun took Han Min’s brush, pretending to sigh: “You can’t write harsh words; I’ll do it.”
A moment later, Han Min noticed something wrong.
He grabbed Fu Xun’s right hand: “Your hand is healed! I won’t stay here—I want to go home!”
Author’s note:
Princess’s famous line: “Those who usually lack brains, when they start using them… that’s most dangerous.”
