Chapter 335 Dismissal

Chapter 335: Stripped of Rank

"Well met, my royal brother." Guo Qixiu, draped in imperial yellow, stood silently before the dragon couch. His face was that of a man in his forties, yet his voice carried the weariness of ages.

The Emperor's eyes strained wide, nearly splitting at the corners, as if in utter shock, or perhaps terror, "How is this possible? I ended your life with my own hands back then!"

"Ha." Guo Qixiu let out a cold laugh. "You cast aside our father's decree, conspired with Nie Chuan to forge the imperial edict, and then hunted down and exterminated my descendants to the last. How can you still sleep soundly, night after night, without a single nightmare?"

"Dream? Yes, this must be a dream!" Reminded by his words, the Emperor seemed to realize that the dead don't return as ghosts—they return as nightmares. As the Son of Heaven, he was immune to all evil influences, and since he had killed his elder brother with his own hands, there was no way he could come back to life. So this must be a dream!

The old emperor's face contorted with fury as he suddenly tore the sword from its place beside the bed, shouting harshly, "I am the Son of Heaven, the most exalted being under heaven! You are but a snake in my path. I am the true dragon!" He raised the sword and slashed wildly, "I killed you once, and I can kill you a thousand times more!"

Consort Nie's eyes snapped open to the sound of his anguished, blood-curdling screams, her lovely eyes utterly devoid of sleepiness. She rose calmly and settled onto the daybed in the outer room, watching the emperor, once so high and mighty, now raving like a madman.

A palace maid on night watch draped a robe over her shoulders. Consort Nie gathered her garments and ordered coldly, "Tell everyone outside to keep their lips sealed. If they value their tongues, they'll keep them still—otherwise, cut them out and feed them to the dogs."

After the maid withdrew, Consort Nie continued watching the emperor's deranged state—he thrashed about on the bed, arms and legs flailing, his ruddy face contorted with rage.

"What goes around comes around. Look at you now, huh?" A cold smile curled on Consort Nie's lips. She felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her entire body, the shadows that had weighed on her heart for years finally lifted.

She would never forget the days when the exalted emperor first took the throne. She was only eighteen then, at that age when she loved and revered him with her whole heart.

When she realized she was with child, she was overjoyed, practically skipping to the emperor to share the wonderful news.

But what did she overhear? The man she loved most was giving orders to the shadowy Qianlong Guard that no matter who took the throne in the future, no child born of the Nie clan would ever be allowed to rule. If he ever died, the Qianlong Guard was to wipe out the Nie clan and bury them alongside him in the imperial tomb.

That cold, callous tone wasn't the hope of lovers sharing a grave—it was the death trap the emperor had set for her long ago.

Consort Nie had no intention of dying. The memory of all those sweet, tender moments now turned her stomach, and this man made her sick too.

Whether the child in her womb was a boy, a girl, or a xiaoge no longer mattered. She had to survive!

Consort Nie sat on the daybed all night, only rising when the sky began to lighten, having finally savored enough of the emperor's pathetic state. She rose, and with the maids' help, washed and dressed herself.

Her weary expression transformed the moment the emperor woke—into a mask of feigned simplicity, gullibility, and fawning deference, the perfect picture of a foolish woman who was easy to push around.

The emperor clearly still remembered last night's nightmare. His face was grim, and he spoke not a single word to Consort Nie. Instead, when a palace maid served a dish he didn't like during the meal, he flew into a fury and ordered Zheng Rui to drag her off and hand her over to the National Preceptor.

No one pitied the young maid, and no one was foolish enough to ask what happened to her. Everyone knew that any maid or eunuch sent to the National Preceptor would vanish forever once they stepped through those doors.

Consort Nie watched the palanquin leave, then changed into her ceremonial pheasant robes to meet her father, Nie Chuan, in the Hall of Family Reunions.

Inside the Hall of Family Reunions stood two eunuchs and two maids, along with the four attendants of Consort Nie—eight superfluous people in all.

"Your subject, Nie Chuan, Duke of Dingxiang, kowtows to the Consort. May the Consort be in good health." Nie Chuan waited in the hall and, from behind a green gauze curtain, performed the fourfold bow to Consort Nie.

Imperial authority was paramount, and the Consort was a noble figure at the sovereign's side. Even as a first-rank noble, the Duke of Dingxiang had to strictly observe the proper hierarchy.

Consort Nie gave a slight nod from behind the curtain. "Thank you for your trouble, Duke. Please, sit."

Once the pleasantries were done, the Consort's maids led the four palace maids and eunuchs outside the hall.

Silence fell. Neither Nie Chuan nor Consort Nie spoke.

"Lan'er." Duke Nie spoke first.

Nie Chuan was a first-rank martial master. His calm demeanor indicated that no Qianlong Guard agents were nearby.

Consort Nie relaxed. "Father, can you stop the Qin family?"

"You are too impatient. The moment I learned the Crown Prince was still alive, I dispatched troops to seal off all official relay stations. The Qin family remains stationed at the southeastern border. Even if he returns, he is no match for your father." Though Nie Chuan's hair and beard were white, his presence when seated was like an immovable mountain.

Consort Nie said coldly, "Wen Zhao's return to the capital is imminent. Prince Lian has sent word that the Crown Prince holds correspondence between him and the King of Annan, including a reply stamped with the King of Annan's royal seal. If he is allowed to enter the city unhindered, not only will all of the Nie family's years of planning be for naught, but under the charge of high treason, the entire Nie clan will lose their lives."

"The cavalry is already prepared. The Consort need not worry." Nie Chuan remained seated calmly. Consort Nie's information had been delivered by his own people—how could he not know?

"Father still resents that I failed to save Sixth Brother's life back then?" Consort Nie's tone was heavy. She was displeased by the Duke's indifferent reaction and wanted to prick at him.

Nie Chuan replied flatly, "These are all old matters. Why bring them up again?"

Perhaps because she had recalled the past so early in the morning, Consort Nie insisted on pressing further. "Sixth Brother was Father's favorite son. Among all your children, you alone said he was most like you. Whether in scholarship or martial arts, there was nothing he couldn't master. Had he not died, he surely would have inherited your legacy and upheld the Duke's mansion's century of glory..."

Nie Chuan rose to his feet, raised the fist hanging at his side, and slammed it into the chair beneath him. The finely carved wooden chair, crafted by imperial artisans, shattered to pieces under his blow. "Enough!"

Consort Nie was startled by the tremendous noise, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. "All these years, Father has always believed Sixth Brother's death had something to do with me, haven't you?"

Nie Chuan glared at her through the gauze curtain. "Is it not true? Do you think I don't know you planted people around him? Do you think all your brothers' injuries and disabilities were mere accidents?"

Nie Chuan had many children. From sons to grandsons, whenever anyone showed signs of talent, misfortune would soon befall them—some by the current emperor's hand, some by the Crown Prince's, and some by his own daughter's.

A maid from Consort Nie's quarters timely reminded them from the doorway in a low voice, "Consort, Duke, the time is nearly up."

Nie Chuan took a deep breath and resumed his unshakable composure. "Rest assured, Consort. This old minister will help Prince Lian ascend the throne."

Consort Nie glanced sideways, the five-tailed phoenix hairpin brushing against her powdered cheek. "In that case, this Consort and Prince Lian shall rely on the Duke."

The Crown Prince Wen Zhao was different from the current emperor. The emperor was overly cautious and timid, skilled at scheming but lacking resolve. He had been propped onto the throne by Nie Chuan's own hands, and though he wanted to discard him afterward, he lacked the ability—soft and easy to manipulate.

But the Crown Prince was decisive by nature. Even before taking the throne, he was already plotting how to weaken the great families. If he ascended, the Nie family would have no path to survival.

Regardless, Nie Chuan would place Prince Lian on that throne.

On this point, both of them were well aware.

Duke Dingxiang emerged from the Hall of Family Reunions. The maid who had been dragged to the National Preceptor that morning was waiting outside the palace gates. "Duke, the Consort has recently been sending people to investigate Lady Jing's residence. She may be planning to make a move against the Sixth Prince."

"Good. Truly my worthy daughter." Duke Dingxiang let out a cold laugh.

Duke Dingxiang instructed, "Return to the Duke's mansion. Have your younger brother take your place in the palace."

The maid's hands trembled within her sleeves. "Yes."

—

Song Tingzhou was often at home now. Even without being told, Chang Jinhua had sensed something was wrong. A nephew could never compare to a son. Chang Jinhua had no energy to deal with Yu Geer's marriage prospects, nor did she dare ask Meng Wan or Song Tingzhou. She simply fretted in silence.

Then, the day after Aunt Chang ran off, Meng Wan suddenly told her they needed to pack up and return home.

"Back to the old village? Sanquan Village?"

Meng Wan smiled. "Where else would we go? Xiwu Prefecture?"

Chang Jinhua was both shocked and delighted. She hopped off the kang and bustled about packing, while Yu Geer stood by at a loss.

Meng Wan flipped through the ledgers in his hands, handing them one by one to the servants nearby to inventory, and said to Yu Geer, "The household is preparing to leave. Are you coming back with us, or have you decided to marry into one of those two families?"

Yu Geer twisted the handkerchief in his hands, unable to make up his mind. When he had left, he'd told all his friends, and they'd teased him about marrying into the capital—the envious looks on their faces he still remembered to this day.

If he were to return in such a dejected manner, they would surely mock him behind his back.

But did he really want to marry?

"Cousin's husband, I know you're clever. Can you give me some advice?" Yu Geer said, tears streaming down his face. At his age, he had never experienced anything like this, torn between pride and the fear of never finding a good match, completely at a loss.

Meng Wan handed the last ledger to Zhi Mao. "Then hear me out. The families in the capital are not easy to deal with. Even a sixth-rank capital official, without connections and influence, cannot stay in the capital."

Yu Geer, seeing that he was willing to guide him, quickly wiped his tears and poured him tea.

"Even if you stay in the capital as the wife of a minor official, you'd likely have no grip on the household. You'd just watch your husband take concubines, and after having children, you'd glare at the concubines with jealous eyes." Meng Wan spoke the unvarnished truth.

The noble families in the capital trained their daughters and young men (xiaoge) in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, as well as managing money and running a household. Even if they couldn't master it, they were immersed in it from a young age, accompanied by capable maids and senior servants. They'd surely keep concubines and servants firmly under their thumb.

But what did Yu Geer know how to do? By the time he learned after getting married, he'd already lag far behind the daughters and young men of the capital.

Yu Geer understood now. He bit his lip. "Then... then I'll go home with you."

Meng Wan hadn't heard what he said, just stared blankly at the two tea leaves floating in his cup.

Early that morning, Song Tingzhou was summoned to the palace. Meng Wan had been on edge for days. He woke when Song Tingzhou stirred but turned his head away, pretending to sleep.

But now he regretted it, wishing he had said more to Song Tingzhou.

---

"Your Majesty, Song Tingzhou, Prefect of Shuntian, favored by the emperor and holding a key position, has knowingly broken the law by interfering in a local County Magistrate's rulings. His brother-in-law's deliberate murder case is well-documented, yet Song Tingzhou, abusing his position, wrote letters to intimidate the Guyang County Magistrate, attempting to cover up the murder."

"His sister-in-law, Wang, has been arrested by the Ministry of Justice, and the evidence in my hands comes directly from her!"

Count Chengen, holding an impeachment memorial, stepped forward and knelt before the hall, declared with righteous fury, "Song Tingzhou, as an Imperial Official, shielded his relatives and perverted the law, using court authority to interfere with local justice. If not severely punished, this may set a precedent for officials shielding relatives and disrupting governance, undermining the very foundation of Ming law. I beg Your Majesty to investigate!"

Zheng Rui went down, took the memorial and letters, and presented them to the emperor.

The emperor sat upright, skimming both documents in moments. Though his cheeks were ruddy and glowing, his eyes were dark, clearly holding back a rising fury. "Song Tingzhou, at this point, do you have anything else to say in your defense?"

He was already in a foul mood, and Song Tingzhou, now impeached, touched a raw nerve.

Song Tingzhou, dressed in a crimson official robe and black gauze cap, knelt in the hall but kept his back straight, showing no sign of retreat or fear. "Your subject has not returned home in seven years and knew nothing of my uncle and cousin's crimes. Nor did I write letters to conspire with the Guyang County Magistrate to seek protection for my kin."

The emperor laughed in rage, hurling the letters and memorial at Song Tingzhou. "The letters are here, with your official seal on them. How dare you still deny it?"

Song Tingzhou picked up the letters from the ground. The contents indeed matched Count Chengen's claims, and even the handwriting resembled his own, with the seal of Shuntian Prefecture neatly stamped below.

Even so, he refused to concede, speaking firmly. "Your subject did not write them, nor did I do such a thing."

"Your Majesty, I also have a memorial to present." The one stepping forward was Censor Ding, who had once impeached Song Tingzhou.

The emperor let out a rough breath. "Speak!"

"Song Tingzhou, Prefect of Shuntian, was previously confined to his home for visiting prostitutes, yet he defied imperial orders, openly flaunting his power with his husband in a brothel, threatening the courtesans to break the ice and open the river, dancing barefoot on a flower boat for their amusement. He also had Shuntian's constables arrest imperial officials, privately threatening them on grounds of moral misconduct. I have testimonies from other minor officials as evidence!" Censor Ding's face was filled with the satisfaction of avenging a past humiliation.

Vice Minister of Works Xia Heng, standing near the front, also stepped out unhurriedly. "Your Majesty, I too have a memorial. During Song Tingzhou's tenure as Prefect of Xi Wu Prefecture, he frequently had private contact with the Crown Prince. His husband, Meng, opened the Zhen Guan Workshop, and the Crown Prince personally wrote a letter, privately requesting craftsmen from the Guanyu Bureau in the palace to assist in Lingnan."

Xia Heng hit the nail on the head. "The Zhen Guan Workshop flourished, with exorbitant prices, reaping profits beyond measure, even comparable to the annual salt tax collected by the Ministry of Revenue!"

Minister Kou Wen of the Ministry of Revenue, who had been nervously wondering which deity Song Tingzhou had offended, was startled to hear that the Zhen Guan Workshop was co-owned by Song's husband and the Crown Prince, and looked up abruptly.

Not just him, but many others were quietly watching Song Tingzhou, whose back remained as taut as a bowstring.

"Let all who wish to speak come forward! I want to see what else within this imperial city and this court I don't know!" The emperor was furious. Song Tingzhou was his carefully chosen candidate—clean family background, outstanding ability. Other matters aside, but involving the Crown Prince was too much.

He knew Meng Wan had opened the Zhen Guan Workshop, but to think the Crown Prince had a hand in it?

He wasn't dead yet, and the inner court had already bypassed him to open doors for the Crown Prince. Were they also seeking to curry favor with the future ruler?

The emperor slowly rose from his dragon throne, the five-clawed golden dragon embroidered in gold thread on his bright yellow robe seeming to bare its claws with his movement. A blaze of fury burned his eyes red.

Looking down at Song Tingzhou's unbending posture, the emperor spoke in a low voice, each word laden with authority and wrath. "Arrest Song Tingzhou, Prefect of Shuntian! Strip him of his post immediately and hand him over to the Three Judicial Offices for a thorough investigation. If the charges are confirmed, punish him severely without leniency!"