Chapter 298: Impeachment

Chapter 298: Impeachment

The next day, when Song Tingzhou attended the morning court, he reported on government affairs to the Emperor as usual. Before he could even step back to his original position, one of the thirteen Censorate Supervising Secretaries jumped forward.

"Your Majesty, I wish to impeach the Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture, Song Tingzhou! As an Imperial Official receiving salary and provisions from the state, Song Tingzhou ought to have been devoted to his duties and prioritized official matters. Yet during official working hours, while on duty, he openly patronized courtesans!"

The Supervising Secretary spoke with righteous indignation. As the only seventh-rank official in the hall, many matters that the higher-ranking Censorate officials found inconvenient to raise personally were left to these subordinates to spearhead.

As soon as he finished speaking, the assembled officials exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of reactions. Consorting with courtesans was an accepted practice among officials—civil officials appreciated elegance, and courtesans were known for their romantic flair and literary talent, far bolder in speech and thought than the rigidly disciplined young ladies and gentlemen raised by aristocratic families.

Military officers cared little for such refinement; when they visited brothels, they went straight to the point—they went to find someone beautiful.

The laws of the Yu State did indeed contain a provision prohibiting officials from patronizing courtesans, and being called out for it did constitute a moral failing. However, generally no one bothered with such matters because everyone did it, which was why the assembled officials now wore such mixed expressions.

The higher-ranking Censorate officials, all fourth-rank or above, rarely impeached lightly, but when they did, it usually meant extermination of the family and confiscation of property.

The seventh-rank Supervising Secretaries below were different—low in rank and easily manipulated. Among the thirteen, their relationships were complex and tangled, with two or three banding together.

Sure enough, no sooner had the first Supervising Secretary finished his impeachment than another stepped forward. "Your Majesty, I beg you to see. Lord Song of Shuntian Prefecture carries on wantonly and shamelessly. Not only does he openly patronize courtesans, but he has frequently displayed intimate gestures with his husband in public. Whenever they travel together, they invariably hold hands, and this has been a daily occurrence, not merely for a day or two. He flouts the law and defies the rules of propriety. If this is allowed to go on, it will undermine the dignity of the entire official class. I humbly request that Your Majesty order an investigation and punishment to rectify official conduct."

Wang Zan glanced back at the two Secretaries, then shot a sidelong look at the Right Vice Censor-in-Chief beside him, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth. Since the Crown Prince's disappearance, all sorts of lowlifes were crawling out of the woodwork. Those hoping to curry favor with the new Emperor and become ministers of a new reign would find it no easy task.

The officials in the hall heard the wild accusations. Instead of thinking them absurd, they marveled that Song Tingzhou was so incorruptible that this was the best they could dig up.

Still, his relationship with his husband was the talk of the court and the realm. Everyone knew they were always all over each other at the Ministry of Justice, completely improper.

Someone used their hu tablet to sneak a peek at Song Tingzhou's reaction.

Hmm?

Was he seeing things?

The Lord Song who was always as stern as a cold-faced grim reaper was actually smiling?

Smiling after being impeached?

The Emperor on the dragon throne took in everyone's reactions below. He let out a helpless sigh. "Lord Song has always been prudent. He probably went there to investigate a case, right?"

The Emperor flat-out ignored the second impeachment about being too intimate with his husband, his words dripping with protection for Song Tingzhou.

Clearly, the rumor that the Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture had the Emperor's favor wasn't just talk.

Everyone figured Song Tingzhou would just own up to it and let the whole thing blow over. But to their surprise, he held his hu tablet to his chest and actually knelt down to confess. "Your Majesty, I beg your understanding. Yesterday, I did go to Tingxiangxie in the south of the city during work hours and slacked off on my duties. I know I messed up and let Your Majesty down. I humbly ask to be allowed to reflect on my mistakes at home, and I hope Your Majesty will grant it."

The two Secretaries who'd impeached him were stunned. They stood there dumbfounded in the grand hall, not knowing what to do, and slunk back sheepishly.

The Emperor was silent for a moment. "In that case, I'll grant your request. Prefect Song, reflect at home... for five days."

The Emperor said nothing more, and that was that. Song Tingzhou didn't even get a single word of scolding. The Emperor also didn't explicitly say Song Tingzhou should step down from his post.

Five days?

How was that any different from a regular day off?

After court let out, Song Tingzhou walked out of the hall and suddenly smiled. If no one had stepped up, with this many officials in the capital, he'd have had no way to investigate them all one by one.

By the time court ended, it was already broad daylight outside. The eunuchs had swept the palace grounds clean of snow, not a speck left. The sun broke through the sky, but its light brought no warmth.

Officials of the fourth rank and above, like Song Tingzhou, got to attend court inside the hall, out of the winter cold. Everyone below the fourth rank had to wait outside in the freezing cold.

Chai Jun watched from a distance as Song Tingzhou's tall crimson-robed figure left, surrounded by senior officials who looked at him with awe but didn't dare get too close, their heads bowed in respect.

Those of them outside had to wait for the senior officials to file out before they could trail behind. This wasn't the first time he'd secretly watched Song Tingzhou.

"What? Jealous? With your personality, you're not envious of Lord Song, are you?" A mocking voice suddenly came from the row of civil officials behind Chai Jun.

Chai Jun did not need to turn around to know who was speaking. His face flushed with anger, but since he was in the palace, he had to swallow his fury. "Wu Qianzhang, feeling pretty smug, are you? I hear your uncle's been pulling strings to get you posted out of the capital since Song Tingzhou arrived? How is it that a first-rank big shot in the Ministry of Rites is scared of a third-rank prefect with no backing?"

A few years back, Wu Wei had pulled strings to get Wu Qianzhang into the Hanlin Academy, showing he still had hopes of boosting him up again. But after Song Tingzhou came back, he seemed to have given up on that last hope. He claimed illness and stayed home to keep a low profile, even trying to send his nephew out on assignment—like he was making his final moves.

Everyone who'd passed the exams the same year as Song Tingzhou and Chai Jun knew Wu Qianzhang and Song Tingzhou had bad blood. The Wu family was clearly on the decline, while Song Tingzhou was basking in imperial favor. People who used to flock around Wu Qianzhang to get in good with Wu Wei now kept their distance, afraid of being dragged down with them.

Chai Jun jabbed right at Wu Qianzhang's sore spot—the Wu family's decline. Even though the Emperor was gone, the palace was full of his spies. If Wu Qianzhang dared to lose his cool and argue, word would reach the Emperor by tomorrow, making things even worse for the Wu family, who were already walking on eggshells.

"No need for Lord Chai to worry about the Wu family's business. Prince Lian has gained power and begun courting high officials like Lord Song. Little fish like you, Brother Chai, have nobody pulling strings for you. Your position didn't budge at the end of last year—getting nervous, are we?" Unexpectedly, Wu Qianzhang was not provoked. Instead, he coolly retorted with a sarcastic jab at Chai Jun before calmly walking away.

Chai Jun, having had his soft spot struck, wore an expression so ugly it defied description, yet he still managed to suppress his anger. Seven years had passed, and not only Song Tingzhou but everyone else had undergone transformations.

Whether their hearts burned with anger or resentment, they kept it buried deep, not daring to give vent to it within the palace walls.

And Song Tingzhou, the subject of their discussions, stood at the center of the storm yet remained calmer than anyone else. He did not even return to the Shuntian Prefecture office but boarded his carriage and headed straight home. He even stopped along the way to buy two packages of pastries, leaving those who had been watching for his reaction utterly bewildered.

"Why are you back so early today?" Chang Jinhua came in carrying a slab of pork belly, planning to make dumplings for dinner. She was growing moldy staying home all day—cooking was her only remaining pleasure.

Song Tingzhou stepped down from the carriage, took the rope tying the pork from her hand, and carried it himself. "I requested leave from His Majesty and will rest at home for a few days. Wan'er has sprained his ankle, so I'll personally go to the property brokers to look at houses."

The house on Shichun Lane was small. By the time Song Tingzhou reached the second gate, Meng Wan had already spotted him.

He was holding a handful of melon seeds, warming himself by the stove. Seeing Song Tingzhou return, he tossed the seed shells into the fire, where they crackled and popped, then trotted out. "Back so early?"

Although Meng Wan asked this, his face showed no particular surprise, clearly not caught off guard by Song Tingzhou's "leave."

Song Tingzhou gathered his loose collar. "Mm, I also bought you some chestnuts—still warm. Go inside and eat."

He had bought several bags of chestnuts in total. Chang Jinhua, as she grew older, cared less and less for sweets. Meng Wan kept one bag and had Huang Ye distribute the rest among the children.

Meng Wan peeled a chestnut and tasted it. "They're big, but not as sweet and chewy as the little chestnuts we used to eat back home."

Song Tingzhou sat down beside him by the stove. "When we return to Changping, we'll buy some in our hometown."

The two chatted by the fire for a while, until Xue Sheng returned from the courier station with a letter. "Husband, it's a letter from Fengtian Prefecture."

Meng Wan wiped his hands with a handkerchief, took the letter, and said in surprise, "That fast?"

He tore it open and read it through quickly, then handed it to Song Tingzhou. "A letter from Huang Zheng. He's been developing connections in the north over the years and has a wide network. I asked him to look into Bian Erxing's affairs."

Unsurprisingly, Guo Wanzhen had lied—but she had also told half the truth.

Bian Erxing and his family of three had indeed been sold to a small town within Fengtian's jurisdiction, and the man had indeed been a small landowner with some property. But they had not been driven away by the landowner—they had fled on their own.

The reason was easy to uncover. The landowner was searching everywhere for them, vowing to beat Bian Erxing to death, because Bian Erxing had bitten off four fingers of his two-year-old grandson!

Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou exchanged a glance, both wearing expressions of "just as we suspected." Bian Erxing had definitely been poisoned by the mermaid pearl.

A mermaid pearl was worth a thousand taels of silver—a servant like him could never afford one. It must have been casually bestowed upon him by Lord Bian when he took the pearl himself. That was why, after the Bian family's downfall, Bian Erxing could no longer obtain the pearl and rapidly descended into madness.

"The remains dug up at the Bian estate were probably someone Lord Bian killed when he lost control, right?" Meng Wan said, then felt something was off. "But Lord Bian wasn't like those rich merchants on Ji Po Island. He held a high position. The fifth must have sunk a lot into controlling him—why would he just let him snap like that?"

There were too many prying eyes in the capital, and "the fifth" was Meng Wan's nickname for Prince Lian.

Song Tingzhou had basically figured out the Bian family case by now, but pinning it on the dead Lord Bian was tricky. As he shelled chestnuts for Meng Wan, he said slowly, "He definitely wouldn't, but someone else might."

Meng Wan leaned on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, "Was it the Emperor or the fourth?" The Emperor was the sovereign, and the Crown Prince ranked fourth among the brothers.

Song Tingzhou's ears turned red. He pulled Meng Wan into his embrace and whispered back in the same manner, "The Emperor." Then he pecked his ear twice—it was shaped like a little gold ingot.

"Haha." Meng Wan covered his ears and laughed, then ran to the side table to grab some melon seeds for Song Tingzhou. "Those salted plum seeds you bought yesterday were really good. Let me crack a handful open for you."

Song Tingzhou rose to his feet. "No need. It's a rare day off—let me take you out."

"I want to go too! Father, you're being unfair!" A Yan yelled, hanging off the doorframe.

Meng Wan said impatiently, "Fine, come on then. What are you yelling for? You're giving me a headache." He went into the back room, grabbed two money pouches, and told A Yan, "Go fetch Tong'er too. Your dad's taking you both out to see the world."

"I'm off to find Tong'er!" A Yan's eyes lit up, and he darted out like a rabbit.

Song Tingzhou smiled helplessly and grabbed the heaviest cloak off the screen. "The wind's strong by the river. Put on something thick."

Meng Wan handed him his short rabbit-fur cloak, swapped it for the sapphire-blue one, and looked wistful. "This mink-lined cloak was a gift from my master the year before last. It was too thick for Lingnan, so I never wore it. Good thing Huang Ye kept it safe for me."

Xiang Yun was easygoing about small stuff and carefree about big stuff—she never really noticed what Meng Wan was missing. She would simply send something over if she thought it was nice and happened to remember him.

But what touched Meng Wan most was how Xiang Yun paved the way for him, hiring tutors from the arts academy for the young ladies and gentlemen.

After Song Tingzhou fastened the pale gray otter-fur hood of the cloak, he took Meng Wan's hand with practiced ease, warming his cool fingertips with his own warmth. "Don't overthink it. Master and Master's husband grew old together and were buried side by side—even on the road to the afterlife, they won't be lonely."

Meng Wan hugged him, feeling emotional. "You're right. I hope we can be like that too."

Song Tingzhou's eyes brimmed with tenderness. His arms tightened around Meng Wan's waist, and he said, half sighing, half promising, "We will."

As the twelfth month arrived, the weather grew colder. The family didn't bother with appearances—they just threw on the thickest, warmest clothes they had and headed out. Even so, A Yan was shivering in the carriage. He couldn't adapt to Shengjing's climate; when he first arrived at Shichun Lane, his lips cracked after just three days.

"A Yan, big brother, want me to hold you?" Tong'er said very seriously.

A Yan's strong pride wouldn't allow him to accept a hug from his younger companion. He refused, shivering, "N-no... no need, Tong'er."

Damn it, he was starting to regret coming out. Riding in the carriage was torture—might as well have walked!

His wish wouldn't come true, because Shichun Lane was far too distant from the "sights" Meng Wan had mentioned.

When they finally reached Yongle Street, A Yan couldn't wait to say, "Father, I want to get off. Let me off."

"Fine, get off, but don't wander too far from Uncle Xue Sheng, or the traffickers will snatch you up, and then you'll be crying your eyes out." Meng Wan's legs were cold too, so after the two kids jumped out, he and Song Tingzhou also got down.

Gui Cheng found a spot to tie up the carriage and the horses ridden by Chi Yu and Xue Sheng, then stayed behind to watch them.

"Is that Tingxiang Pavilion up ahead?" Meng Wan pointed at the small building at the end of Yongle Street and asked Song Tingzhou.

In the twelfth month, every street in Shengjing was crowded. A passerby overheard Meng Wan and glanced over with amusement, muttering, "A married young gentleman, talking about a brothel's name right on the street?"

A few women also pointed at their tightly clasped hands. Meng Wan tilted his head slightly, his well-shaped lips curving into a beautiful smile, and deliberately raised their joined hands a little higher.

Look all you want—since Song Tingzhou had already been impeached, what did it matter if they held hands? Once people got used to it, they could go home and hold hands with their own spouses too.