Chapter 78

Chapter 78

Lian Cheng forced himself to keep up the act for a while longer, then made the excuse that sitting like that was uncomfortable and made it hard to sleep, and moved off Lian Xiusheng's lap. Not long after he left, he suddenly wondered—could Lian Xiusheng have schemed to steal his armchair by tricking him into leaving?

Then he thought this wasn't Lian Xiusheng's style; he himself was more likely to do something so pointless.

Lian Cheng would rather Lian Xiusheng be so bored that he'd fight over a chair with him than act on some hidden emotional impulse.

Didn't he say he didn't love his brother anymore? Why did he still steal a kiss?

Realizing that Lian Xiusheng had probably just been putting on an act all these months, Lian Cheng closed his eyes in despair—he had been too naive.

But it wasn't his fault; he'd never been in love, never been stirred by anyone. When Lian Xiusheng said he could start and stop at will, Lian Cheng had truly believed such feelings could be turned on and off.

Lian Cheng was agitated, his stomach churning as if he'd been force-fed several jars of sorghum liquor. He picked up a cup and downed two bowls of the cold tea. Madam Fu watched him drink and came over to touch the teapot, quietly telling him not to drink cold tea in the middle of the night. She instructed a maid to brew him a pot of hot tea instead.

"No need—I'm just thirsty. Cold's better than hot anyway." Lian Cheng thanked his second sister-in-law, said he wanted to go check on his father, and left.

In Lian Pu's room, Lian Feng was wringing out a cloth to wipe the hot sweat from their father's face. Seeing Lian Cheng enter, he turned and said, "Father won't stop sweating at this hour—I'm afraid he might really be on his way out." Lian Cheng went over and held the basin so Lian Feng wouldn't have to keep running back and forth. Lian Feng glanced at him and said while busy at work, "You've grown up now. Even in the ground, Father could rest easy."

Lian Cheng had been feeling down, but his eldest brother's words made him crack up. "Father is lying right there on the bed."

"I'm just running my mouth—don't take it seriously. If Father wakes, no need to tell him what I said." Lian Feng picked up the wet cloth and wiped his own sweat with it instead.

Then he set down the basin and the cloth, and the two brothers sat on the low couch by the bed talking. Mostly Lian Feng talked and Lian Cheng listened; often Lian Cheng didn't listen and Lian Feng talked anyway.

Lian Cheng's mind wandered, thinking that the one in the family most like Lian Pu was Lian Feng. Even on the verge of death, Lian Pu never forgot to nag endlessly—though Lian Feng lacked Lian Pu's sly old fox cunning.

"If Father passes, I'll send Fu Guang at first light to notify the relatives. Father only has one sister; there aren't many close kin to notify. But in the auxiliary capital there are still two aunts and three uncles. Second Grand-Uncle had a falling out with Grandfather when the family split up their property years ago and most likely won't bother to come. Eldest Aunt was closest to Father, and in recent years they stopped visiting only because her health declined—otherwise the two families would have been even closer."

"As for the Lu family on Mother's side, how should we break the news? Mother left home at a young age and hasn't been in contact with her family for years. Three years ago at the Dragon Boat Festival, I had a classmate serving as a provincial administrator in Lu Prefecture, and I entrusted him to deliver festive gifts of tea and wine. Who would have thought the maternal uncle would have him beaten and thrown out the door... Should we try again? Maybe we should ask Mother first? Mother favors you more, so it would be better for you to ask than for me. The Lu family seems to hate us to the bone. Forget about me and the other siblings—even when you were born, they didn't send so much as a kind word..."

Lian Cheng's head kept drooping, and he was about to fall asleep.

Lian Feng fetched a cloak and draped it over his third brother, then sat cross-legged beside him and resumed his rambling. When he got choked up, he couldn't help shedding a few tears.

In short, Lian Cheng never got a single moment of peace. He learned everything: how each concubine had entered the Lian household, what tricks they'd used to lure Lian Pu into their rooms, which sister cried the most as a child, who was still wetting the bed at seven or eight, and how the servants in each courtyard were entangled with each other.

Lian Feng revealed even more about court affairs—big things like how Lian Ming had once wiped out his own teachers, students, and closest friends in one fell swoop; how the Imperial Inner Court's annual expenditures were ten times that of the previous reign; how Li Xi had no talent for governing; down to how minor clerks in various government offices used their positions for personal gain.

He also said that as a vice minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, in charge of the nation's rites and ceremonies, he'd observed that the Yongchang reign had been the most disorderly and improper in the past ten years. He could only hope the current emperor would wise up soon—or kick the bucket soon—and put his hopes on that little prince of barely ten to run the country.

Perhaps because Lian Feng was simply too nosy and talked too much, he actually woke Lian Pu from his stupor. Both brothers at the bedside immediately snapped to attention and rushed over to tend to him.

But Lian Pu wasn't truly awake—he remained delirious, breathing unevenly, only making vague sounds from his mouth—aahing, oohing, and groaning.

Lian Feng pronounced: "Father is on his way out!" He rose from the couch with the air of a head of household, sending servants and maids from Liufang Pavilion to every courtyard to summon everyone to see Father off on his final journey.

Lian Cheng was sharp enough to check Lian Pu's pulse first, and found it noticeably stronger and clearer than an hour before. He felt a bit reassured—at least the old man wouldn't die before the third watch.

The various courtyards got the news and soon came one after another, all wailing together. A physician also arrived with his medicine box and did the full exam—looking, listening, asking questions, and taking the pulse. The questioning was, of course, directed at the room full of relatives. He understood the situation, made his call, and announced that the Old Master had turned the corner and was out of danger. He offered his congratulations, then wrote a new prescription for nourishing the blood and building strength.

Everyone who'd rushed over in the night let out a sigh of relief, their tense muscles loosening. Though they each went back to their own courtyards, no one actually rested. With no one managing the household, if the Eldest Brother and Third Brother couldn't hold things together, and the siblings started fighting among themselves, outside troubles would surge. They could lose their standing, have their influence stripped away—the family could collapse in the blink of an eye.

Despite what the physician said, everyone waited until dawn before heading back to their quarters. The one who stayed behind to watch over Father was Third Madam, who rarely came out of her quarters. Lian Cheng was curious why she'd stepped up to watch over Father, so he dawdled until last to leave—and saw Third Madam wipe her tears with her sleeve, then—smack!—slap Lian Pu across the face.

Scary, scary! She loves her man but can't say it out loud, huh? Lian Cheng scurried away, thinking this family really didn't know how to be straightforward. If they were more open, maybe the whole family-destruction disaster from the books would never happen.

-

At noon that day, Lian Cheng was still catching up on sleep when he was yanked out of bed to wash and dress, told that an imperial edict had arrived. Half-asleep, he knelt before several eunuchs. The edict had been written by Li Xi the night before. It said that, having learned of Lian Pu taking a blade meant for his son, and to comfort him in his injury, three thousand taels of silver were bestowed. Lian Pu was also ordered to rest and recover at home, not to bother with official duties until fully healed.

The edict not only comforted Lian Pu but also lavishly praised Lian Cheng's deed of rescuing his father the previous day—words like "young in years but frail of body," "carrying his father and breaking the bandits," "the ultimate filial piety." Lian Cheng listened, dazed—was this really him?

Eunuch Chen smiled warmly as he handed the edict to Zhang Ailian. "Princess, you've raised a fine son."

After Eunuch Chen and his party had left with all their fanfare, the "fine son" rushed over to grab Zhang Ailian's arm and ask if Mother would split the three thousand taels with her child.

Lian Cheng got a knock on the head for that and obediently returned to Penglai Pavilion. As he was almost there, he ran into Lian Xiusheng. He didn't know what to do with his hands or where to put his feet.

"Sixth Brother, heading out? Haha."

Lian Xiusheng glanced at his third brother and said, "Mm. The matter of Lord Wang's son using forbidden timber to build a polo field hasn't been sorted out yet—I plan to discuss it further with Minister Luo."

Seeing his third brother about to step through the gate, Lian Xiusheng called after him. "Third Brother can rest first. When I come back later, I'll be quiet and won't disturb you."

Lian Cheng, whether from the all-nighter or something else, felt light-headed and asked in a daze, "How could you possibly disturb me?"

"I'm going to rest with Third Brother—did you forget?" Lian Xiusheng stepped forward. Though he was looking up at the young man on the steps, his gaze was intense. "Third Brother's been acting strange today. Why..."

"No, I'm not being strange." Lian Cheng cut him off, hurriedly stepping over the threshold to put distance between them. He walked away with his hands clasped behind his back, saying as he went, "Go do your thing. I'm tired—I'm going to bed."

After such a harrowing exchange, Lian Cheng's drowsiness had completely vanished. He tidied himself up, changed into a green round-collared patterned robe, strapped on his saber, mounted his horse, and rode straight out the gate.

-

In yesterday's incident, two of the attackers had been captured alive and thrown into the imperial jail. Because the Lian household had been in chaos, no one had gotten around to questioning them. Now that Lian Cheng had the chance, he came personally to interrogate them.

As soon as he arrived at the government office and his horse was led away by the stable hand, the first to come over wasn't Ji Xing or Qiao Yuer, but Wei Xiaoyu. Wei Xiaoyu told Lian Cheng that as soon as those two had been brought into the imperial jail, Vice Prefect Meng had come to look at them and even requested to conduct the interrogation.

"He already interrogated them?" Lian Cheng thought to himself, what business was this of Meng Chong's that he had to stick his nose in? Since when did an official of the Vice Prefect's rank personally handle interrogations? Didn't people in ancient times say this was dirty work—and he was fighting to do it?

"I stopped Vice Prefect Meng," Wei Xiaoyu said. "Officers Ji Xing and Qiao Yuer even coordinated with me to put on a little act. They suggested letting Vice Prefect Meng handle the interrogation to close the case fast, but I refused, saying this was your case and it involved your esteemed father—if anyone wanted to interfere, they'd have to go through you first."

"Well done." Lian Cheng pulled out a few bits of silver to reward Wei Xiaoyu.

Then he looked up and saw Ji Xing and Qiao Yuer standing in the pitch-black doorway of the imperial jail, each with a face full of jilted grievance. "..."

Lian Cheng was never short on money, so he naturally gave rewards to Ji Xing and Qiao Yuer as well—but not without reminding his three stooges, "Do your jobs well. Minor harmless mischief is fine, but don't stir up baseless trouble or harm innocent people just to compete for my favor."

Ji Xing quickly said, "Of course."

Lian Cheng then said to him by name: "Ji Xing, you need to lose weight. All the way here, all I heard was you huffing and puffing."

"Sir..."

"I want you to live a long life," Lian Cheng said. Ji Xing's build had to be at least two hundred jin.

They chatted along the way, but once inside the prison, everyone instinctively fell silent, leaving only the rustle of armor and the scuff of boots. Qiao Yuer led the way holding a torch, and when they reached the torture room at the end, he used the torch to light several oil lamps. Lian Cheng looked around, found a stool, and sat down. Looking up again, he saw Qiao Yuer bending over a furnace, lighting a fire.

Lian Cheng didn't speak, only wondered inwardly—this imperial jail was underground to begin with, with no daylight and no ventilation. Up on the surface, summer hadn't even arrived yet, but here you broke a sweat after a moment. Why start a fire?

But this innocent question lasted barely two minutes before Lian Cheng had his answer—torture required red-hot branding irons, so of course a fire was needed.

The other instruments hung on the walls, ready to grab whenever. Only the torture rack had to be brought from the adjoining cell, since the number of prisoners to be interrogated varied each time—more prisoners meant more room needed. Some prison officers also had their own preferences: no rack, but hooks, long benches, or tiger benches. In any case, the center had to be kept clear, depending on how the officer in charge chose to dole out punishment.

From behind came the sounds of pushing and cursing, and Lian Cheng heard his own name.

"Lian Cheng, you'll die a terrible death!"

"Lian Cheng, even if we sink to the eighteenth level of hell, we'll eat your flesh and sleep on your hide!"

Lian Cheng stood up abruptly—he hadn't even done anything yet, and they were already cursing him?

Ji Xing and Wei Xiaoyu brought the prisoners in, both of them towering over Lian Cheng, with disheveled hair, clad in prison garb, barefoot, and radiating the fierce, reckless bravado of legendary warriors Zhang Fei and Lü Bu.

For a moment, Lian Cheng found himself doubting—how could two men with such a chivalrous air have taken up the trade of assassinating an upright official like him?

Could they be from Crown Prince Jiao's faction?

Lian Cheng didn't dare ask; it wasn't a question he could casually pose. He furrowed his brow, cleared his throat, and had Ji Xing and Wei Xiaoyu bind the men to the torture rack first. The two prisoners then opened their mouths and roared curses, spewing filth that was unbearable to hear, repeatedly declaring that Lian Cheng had committed great sins and would suffer every torment of hell.

Ji Xing chuckled and warned that once they took a couple of lashes, they'd stop cursing. Wei Xiaoyu, lacking Ji Xing's easygoing temper, drove his elbow hard into the bald man's gut, watching him spit out a mouthful of water, then sneered, "You're in the imperial prison and still this arrogant—curse once more, and I'll stuff a live rat down your throat to gnaw through your guts."

Lian Cheng picked up a whip and cracked it twice in his hand—it stung.

He wasn't suited to administering torture; his hands were unpracticed, his heart too soft—he was a good socialist boy.

So Lian Cheng hung the whip back up and rummaged through a cabinet nearby, pulling out a tea set. After rinsing it with water, he opened a drawer and found two packets of aged tea leaves. While he was playing the refined gentleman, everyone else—including the two on the rack—was utterly baffled.

Qiao Yuer came over and whispered, "Sir, if you can't bring yourself to do it, our hands are already dirty—just let us handle it."

Lian Cheng said, "Question them first. If they won't talk, then we'll deal with them."

Qiao Yuer took the whip, dipped it in saltwater three times, walked up to the rack, and asked the two who had sent them to disrupt the Song family funeral and harm the Lian father and son.

The bald man's eyes blazed red. He first threw his head back in wild laughter, then spat at Qiao Yuer, saying, "You little shitbird, you think you're worthy of talking to me?"

He then turned and cursed Ji Xing, who was preparing instruments nearby, "Hahaha, you fat-headed, flop-eared tub of lard—you'd make a fine side dish for us two gentlemen!"

Ji Xing and Qiao Yuer had long been stationed at the southern yamen, full of petty cunning but long since lost their bite. Though they grumbled and lashed the prisoners a few times, it did little good.

Wei Xiaoyu watched from the side for a while, then sent the two lesser officers to rest. He set down the whip, picked up a hammer, and went over to deliver ten heavy blows to each man's fingers, smashing them to pulp as they screamed without end. Afterward, Wei Xiaoyu held the hammer and said with a smile, "When we ask you something, answer if you know—don't give me any bullshit."

Lian Cheng listened to the screams behind him and felt a cold sweat break out on his back. He figured he couldn't just stand by; this kind of brutality didn't sit well with him either.

He carried over some tea, dragged a stool to sit before the two, and looked up to ask, "Who sent you?"

The previous day, they hadn't gotten a clear look at him, but now the oil lamp wasn't far off—it sat on the table beside them—and the two on the rack finally saw what the barely twenty-year-old Vice Commander Lian actually looked like.

He was a tender-faced, fair-skinned young gentleman, sitting there like a jade figurine, his bearing and demeanor rivaling even Guanyin, the Bodhisattva of Compassion.

But figures like him, since ancient times, wore a snake's heart behind a Buddha's smile, concealing daggers behind a smile—lovely as peach blossoms, yet deadly as scorpions, far more dangerous than tigers, leopards, or wolves. Both men instantly went on high alert, exchanging a glance: this man was unfathomable—they must not let their guard down and had to tread carefully.