Chapter 64 The Petition Drum Has Sounded

Chapter 64 The Petition Drum Sounds

"Would Mr. Wen care for another round?" Song Yan asked.

"Of course. Since I was invited by you today, I must get my fill. Surely you won't refuse to accompany me?" Wen Zhong replied with a smile.

He had only met this young Master Song twice at the bookshop and played a few games of chess with him. Neither had revealed their backgrounds, treating each other merely as chess buddies. Yet yesterday, while on his way home from duty, he happened to run into Song Yan, who invited him to play chess at the bookshop today.

Little did he expect that upon arriving, he would encounter officers from the Capital Prefecture. It seemed the invitation to play chess was merely a pretext—the real purpose was to help with the bookshop's problem.

Wen Zhong wasn’t annoyed. After all, as a censor, this was precisely the kind of matter he ought to address.

Song Yan gathered up the pieces into the chess box and replied cheerfully, "I'd be happy to."

This game proceeded somewhat slower as Wen Zhong occasionally chatted with the onlookers. Song Yan didn't rush him, listening attentively.

"Has something happened in the capital these past few days? Why are the authorities shutting down bookshops?" Wen Zhong asked casually after placing a piece.

The one who answered was a scholarly-looking young man, no older than seventeen or eighteen, his tone full of complaints: "It’s all because of that novel. Who knows what powerful figure the author offended? Every bookshop that sold it has been sealed these past two days. I had to visit three different neighborhoods just to buy some paper!"

"Young man, it seems you’ve been too busy studying to read leisure books," a well-fed middle-aged man chimed in with a chuckle. "Word is going around that the novel makes digs at the Duke of Song’s household. That’s a duke we’re talking about—if he wants the bookshops sealed, who dares refuse?"

Song Yan listened quietly, placing his piece immediately after Wen Zhong made his move.

"What are your thoughts on this matter, Master Song?" Wen Zhong asked, turning to him.

"I’m but a commoner and shouldn't speak out of turn."

"Go ahead."

Song Yan shook his head. "Mr. Wen must know the risks of speaking carelessly. Today, bookshops are sealed and their owners arrested. Tomorrow, it may be anyone who voices an opinion. Best to be cautious."

Wen Zhong laughed, catching the implication. "Ah, I see now—Master Song is quite displeased by this affair."

Song Yan lowered his eyes. "I merely think it’s just a novel, with no names named. Why make such a big deal? Sealing the books is one thing, but arresting people? One might think the author committed some terrible crime. Unless... the novel hit too close to home."

"Not necessarily. Perhaps the Duke of Song is simply narrow-minded," Wen Zhong remarked.

The crowd couldn't help laughing at his words. Song Yan was momentarily stunned before joining in.

Perhaps because they had just mocked a high-ranking official together, the onlookers grew more talkative. Though they were all regular folks discussing everyday stuff, the animated talk and Wen Zhong’s occasional commentary turned the bookshop’s exterior into a lively gathering.

By the time the game ended, the sun had grown blazing. The two packed up the board and carried the table and stools back inside.

Inside the shop, two die-hard fans of *Revenge Chronicle* were still grumbling.

A Chan: "I suspect Mr. Baomu got the plot wrong. Maybe it wasn’t just the child who was swapped back then—perhaps the Duke of Song’s brain was swapped too!"

Shopkeeper Xu: "Exactly! A duke with nothing better to do than meddle in what people read—how idle must he be?"

A Chan: "If we never get *Revenge Chronicle*’s second volume, the entire Duke of Song’s household is to blame."

"Ah!" Shopkeeper Xu sighed. "At this rate, the second volume doesn't look likely. Let’s just pray Mr. Baomu isn’t arrested."

Wen Zhong and Song Yan, who had just entered, overheard their conversation. Wen Zhong mused that while the emperor had only heard the Duke of Song’s grievances, perhaps he ought to listen to the people’s discontent as well. It seemed he should read *Revenge Chronicle* himself.

Meanwhile, Song Yan’s eyes twinkled with amusement at the duo’s indignation.

Noticing the newcomers, Shopkeeper Xu ended his chat with A Chan and greeted them: "Have Mr. Wen and Master Song finished your game?"

"Haven't had enough yet, but the sun was too harsh, so we came in to rest," Wen Zhong replied, setting down the chessboard and pot.

"Please, take a seat. I’ll fetch some cooling tea."

As Shopkeeper Xu went to prepare the tea, Wen Zhong turned to A Chan: "Miss Ji, we meet again."

A Chan stood. "Mr. Wen, I hope you’ve been well. I heard you wished to buy more mosquito-repelling incense?"

"Indeed. With the heat, mosquitoes have grown bothersome. Your incense works great, so I hoped to purchase two more."

"My shop will reopen in five or six days. If you can wait, you’re welcome to visit then," A Chan suggested.

"Very well," Wen Zhong agreed readily.

After speaking with Wen Zhong, A Chan turned to Song Yan: "Master Song, have you finished the calligraphy for the signboard?"

Song Yan hurriedly replied, "It’s done. Not knowing when you’d come, I entrusted them all to Shopkeeper Xu."

Once the tea was served, Shopkeeper Xu retrieved a bundle of scrolls from the back. A Chan unrolled them one by one—each matched their prior agreement, and the large characters had real presence.

Delighted, A Chan couldn’t help but praise: "Master Song’s handwriting is amazing."

Wen Zhong, who had leaned in to admire them as well, nodded. "Not only is Master Song’s chess skill superb, but his calligraphy already bears the mark of a master. Truly impressive."

Knowing who Wen Zhong was now, A Chan felt she'd really scored by his praise of Song Yan.

Not one to be left out, Shopkeeper Xu added, "Master Song’s painting is no less remarkable than his calligraphy."

"With such talent, have you ever considered pursuing the civil service exams, Master Song?" Wen Zhong asked.

Though music, chess, calligraphy, and painting differed from the exams, being good at so many things spoke to Song Yan’s rare talent. If he focused on the exams, his intellect might well land him an official post.

Song Yan said with a hint of regret, "In my youth, I attempted the exams but failed repeatedly. Later, I thought, ‘Better to travel ten thousand miles than read ten thousand books,’ so I journeyed from my hometown to the capital. Indeed, I’ve witnessed many wonders. If the opportunity arises, I may try the exams again someday."

"That’s a sound approach," Wen Zhong said with the wisdom of experience. "There’s no harm in taking the exams later. Achieving office too young isn’t necessarily a blessing."

A Chan and Shopkeeper Xu exchanged glances—such worries were unique to someone like Mr. Wen, who had become the top scholar before turning twenty.

Song Yan sipped his tea and gazed at the harsh sunlight outside the shop. The imperial exams...

But then, he couldn't take them.

After chatting a while longer, A Chan paid Song Yan the remaining fee for the calligraphy and left with her bundle of signboard scrolls.

She and Hui Niang still needed to commission the signboards, lest they delay the shop’s reopening.

At least seeing Shopkeeper Xu safe had set her mind at rest.

As she climbed into the carriage, another thought struck her: Earlier, she’d overheard Master Song and Mr. Wen discussing the novel. Had Mr. Wen taken it to heart? If only he could file an impeachment against the Duke of Song tomorrow.

The next morning, while A Chan still slept soundly, the morning court session had already begun. Little did she know, her passing thought from yesterday had come true.

An hour later, as the ministers wrapped up their business and prepared to disperse, Wen Zhong stepped up.

From the throne, the emperor watched as every official turned in unison toward Wen Zhong.

"Does the censor have something to add?" the emperor asked.

"Your Majesty, I impeach the Duke of Song," Wen Zhong declared, his words ringing clear, leaving the emperor no pretending he hadn’t heard.

"Oh, what offense has the Duke of Song committed recently? Why not come clean?"

The Duke of Song immediately stepped forward: "Your Majesty, I have committed no wrongdoing. I don't understand Censor Wen's accusations."

"Recently, the Duke of Song has used the excuse of being slandered to massively close down bookshops across the wards. Not only has this severely disrupted the lives of the common people, but it has also caused damaging consequences."

The Duke of Song quickly retorted, "This matter I already sought approval from Your Majesty."

"Is that so? Then, Duke of Song, would you care to tell His Majesty how many bookshops you coerced the Capital Prefect into closing? In just two days, over eighty shops were shut down across the 108 wards of the capital. The skyrocketing paper prices in the capital are all thanks to the Duke of Song. I wonder if the Duke has any underhanded arrangements with paper workshops?"

"Lord Wen, mind your words. There are reasons behind this. All the banned bookshops were selling banned texts. Once the Capital Prefecture completes its investigation, the shops will naturally reopen."

"Funny you should mention. Yesterday, I also read this so-called prohibited book. I am very curious—has the author ever explicitly stated that the book's contents originated from the Duke of Song’s estate?"

Wen Zhong kept pushing. The Duke of Song, flushed with anger, couldn’t help but say, "I may not be as eloquent as Lord Wen, but the content of that book is clearly taking veiled shots at and slandering my estate."

"Then this matter is indeed serious." Unexpectedly, Wen Zhong suddenly shifted his tone and addressed the emperor, "Your Majesty, I believe banning bookshops is not the answer, but the reputation of the Duke of Song’s estate is also important. Therefore, I request Your Majesty to immediately order a thorough investigation into whether the account in the book about the Duke of Song’s heir's alleged murder is true."

The Duke of Song hastily interjected, "Your Majesty, the content of that storybook is complete fiction. My son has not killed anyone."

Wen Zhong’s voice remained gentle, "Duke of Song, no need for concern. I also believe the heir has not killed anyone. But for the sake of your estate’s reputation and the heir’s innocence, it is better to get to the bottom of this. Otherwise, the common people might easily believe the content of the storybook. Once the truth is uncovered, we can also set the record straight to the people."

"Your Majesty, this seems improper." At this moment, the Minister of Rites stepped forward. "If every time someone writes a book insinuating a court official, we must conduct a thorough investigation, I fear we will soon be stretched too thin. What does Lord Wen think?"

"I believe that if anyone who writes a book is accused of insinuating court officials and is then made a target, an investigation is indeed necessary. Who knows whether they are truly slandering court officials without reason or are forced to resort to storybooks to air their grievances to the court?"

"If there are grievances, they can be taken to court." The Minister of Rites was clearly displeased with such behavior.

"Minister, have you ever heard the phrase, 'Why not eat meat porridge?'"

"Hmph, Lord Wen, you're misapplying that saying. It seems you were careless in your studies."

Wen Zhong smiled, "The point stands. I was quite meticulous during the imperial examinations, as the Minister knows."

The Minister of Rites rolled his eyes. If only he hadn’t admired Wen Zhong’s essays so much over a decade ago.

Now, over a decade later, serving in the same court, he had to watch Wen Zhong make waves in the imperial hall without respite.

Seeing the two about to engage in a lengthy debate, the emperor rubbed his temples and declared, "Order the Capital Prefect to free those being held immediately and rescind the arrest order for the storybook’s author. It is good for the people to become enlightened, but the content of storybooks must be strictly reviewed in the future."

"Your Majesty is wise."

Only the Duke of Song seemed dissatisfied, "Your Majesty, you clearly promised me..."

The emperor’s voice turned cold, "For the sake of your estate’s reputation, I agreed to ban this book. But you, Duke of Song, have used my name to carry out many unnecessary actions."

"I beg forgiveness." The Duke of Song immediately knelt.

The emperor waved his hand, "Considering you are the wronged party, I will not pursue this matter further today. Let this issue rest."

Wen Zhong did not push the issue further. He had long known the emperor would not agree to an investigation.

One reason was as the Minister of Rites had said—the content of a storybook was too flimsy for the court to investigate a duke’s heir.

The second reason lay with the Duke of Song’s heir himself. At present, the stability of Xiling was paramount. Without concrete evidence, the emperor would not easily recall him.

Wen Zhong’s goal today was simply to bring the matter to light and have the emperor take a clear stance in court to put the matter to rest.

Now that his objective was achieved, nothing else mattered.

On the day of the emperor’s decree, many detained bookshop clerks and owners were released, and the shops reopened. Their only loss was the first volume of *Revenge Chronicle*.

The court had explicitly banned this book, forbidding any future private printing.

The bookshop owners lamented and turned to printing more copies of *God of War Record*. Capitalizing on the scandal, many would surely want to read Mr. Baomu’s masterpiece.

After all, this was the author who'd penned a banned book—his works were certainly worth studying.

A few days later, A Chan’s house was finally ready for her to move in.

Two days prior, Hui Niang had hired workers to thoroughly clean every room and the courtyard. The newly custom-made furniture and decorations had been arranged, and the shop sign had been hung, still covered with red cloth, waiting for the reopening day.

A Chan had thrown her things together in one night and urged Chen Hui the next day to move back to Changping Ward. Settling into her new home in Changping Ward, A Chan finally felt at ease. She truly preferred this place.

On the day of the shop’s reopening, firecrackers crackled as A Chan pulled off the red cloth covering the sign, revealing the two characters for "Incense Shop" written in seal script. The ancient elegance of the script made her feel as though her shop had gained a refined aura.

Many familiar shop owners from the neighborhood came to congratulate her, and regular customers arrived upon hearing the news to purchase incense.

During this time, A Chan had prepared many types of incense at home, including a newly blended calming incense and a jasmine-scented powder for perfuming clothes. Though the mosquito-repelling incense pellets sold the best, the other varieties also sold well.

Throughout the morning, A Chan counted her earnings several times, her eyes shining with delight. Indeed, the feeling of earning money herself was entirely different from inheriting wealth.

By noon, the weather grew hotter, and no more customers came. A Chan rested in the shade of the backyard. She had just eaten cold noodles mixed with shredded chicken and cucumber—a refreshing meal.

Hui Niang had also bought a watermelon, which was now cooling in the well. A Chan kept peeking into the well, dying for some chilled melon—she was so hot.

Just then, the sound of a drum echoed from afar. She stood up, puzzled—it wasn’t yet curfew, so why was there drumming?

She lifted the curtain and stepped to the front, where she saw Chen Hui also looking out the door. Unable to resist, she asked, "Hui Niang, what is that drum sound?"

Chen Hui replied, "It’s the petition drum. Someone must be filing a grievance."