The Eighth Year of Shenchu
The Journey Home (Part 5)
Lingbi searched all night but couldn’t find her wild chicken. When she was sleeping, she held Zhen Wenjun’s hand with a terrified expression and said, “I don’t know if there are ghosts in the mountains. I just went for a quick pee, and when I came back, the chicken was gone. If it wasn’t a ghost that stole it, could it be that the chicken became a spirit and ran away on its own? That can’t be right either. If the chicken became a spirit and ran away, it wouldn’t take the pot with it. Why would it take the pot? It’s not going to make chicken soup!”
Lingbi kept rambling on and on. The culprit, Zhen Wenjun, was already exhausted from the day’s work and couldn’t sleep because of her noise, which could be considered a kind of retribution. She could only comfort Lingbi, “Don’t overthink it. A wild chicken might cultivate for hundreds of years and turn into a spirit, but you already plucked its feathers and cooked it. If it turned into a spirit, it would be a chicken soup spirit. Maybe some wild monkey smelled the aroma and stole it.”
Lingbi nodded in agreement and fell asleep without thinking further.
Zhen Wenjun regretted it, thinking that speaking too quickly wasn’t good, as she ended up scolding herself too.
The next day, they slept until noon before waking up. Probably overhearing Wei Tingxu’s words to Xiaohua last night made Zhen Wenjun feel much more at ease, so she slept more soundly. However, her jaw, which was dislocated yesterday, still hurt occasionally, and her face, which had been punched by Xiaohua, was even more swollen.
When she woke up, Lingbi was already gone. Zhen Wenjun wrapped herself in a cotton coat and walked out of the tent. She saw that Xiaohua had already returned and was standing as usual behind the four-wheeled carriage where Wei Tingxu was sitting. There was a stranger on a tall black horse, his thighs chafed and bloody from gripping the horse’s belly, clearly a messenger who had ridden day and night to deliver urgent news. The black horse had a sharp horn on its head and a bell tied around its neck, indicating it was an official courier horse. The rider rang the bell during the day and carried a torch at night; even if he ran someone over, he wouldn’t be held responsible. The horse was sweating profusely, dripping like blood. It was still restless after its mad dash, constantly neighing and lifting its legs, ready to run again. The rider first leaned back, pressing down with his feet on the stirrups to calm the horse. However, the black horse’s fierce nature made it uncontrollable, so the rider let it run a few more circles to calm down. Gradually, as the circles became smaller, the horse finally returned to its normal state. Only then did the rider dismount, kneeling on one knee before Wei Tingxu.
Zhen Wenjun carefully observed his horse-taming techniques and memorized them, thinking she could use them if Yun Zhong Feixue ever became restless.
Surrounded by guards and Xiaohua, the rider spoke softly, so Zhen Wenjun couldn’t hear what they were saying.
She didn’t get closer but went to find Lingbi to get a piece of cloth. She ran into the woods to dig up some frozen soil, wrapped it, and applied it to her swollen face. She also prepared some herbal medicine for a hot compress. Just as the fire under the stove started to smoke, Xiaohua approached her.
Zhen Wenjun looked at her warily. “What? Wasn’t yesterday’s punch enough?” She pointed to her face, which had become as hard as a rock.
Xiaohua politely bowed to her and said, “Lady Wenjun, the lady requests your presence.”
Zhen Wenjun greatly admired Xiaohua’s tolerance. Yesterday, they had been at each other’s throats, and she had even lost control and struck out. But today, Xiaohua could put away all her temper and invite her. Whether it was thanks to that pot of chicken soup that turned into a spirit last night or simply because of a word from her lady, she couldn’t tell.
Zhen Wenjun walked into the tent, where a few guards, Lingbi, Xiaohua, and the knight who had delivered the message on the fast horse were gathered.
The knight had removed his armor, and his thick inner garment was soaked through. His young face was sharply defined, with a faint mole between his resolute brows.
Zhen Wenjun had developed the habit of observing people’s details while she was in Taojun City. Whenever a stranger appeared before her, she couldn’t help but scrutinize them carefully. This knight looked barely past his coming-of-age ceremony, and his face was covered in mud splattered by the horse’s hooves from the journey. He appeared utterly exhausted but was forcing himself to stay alert, waiting for Wei Tingxu to speak. The bronze armor he wore upon arrival was clearly the standard attire for Da Yu’s official messengers, typically used to deliver urgent reports to generals during wartime. It seemed he had come to Wei Tingxu to ensure an unimpeded passage, so no one would dare to check his urgent travel orders. This way, important messages would naturally reach Wei Tingxu smoothly. It appeared to be a common tactic used by the Wei family.
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Zhen Wenjun and Xiaohua came in, and Wei Tingxu seemed to be waiting for someone.
A guard hurriedly entered the room and presented a small wooden slip to Wei Tingxu, saying it was a message delivered by carrier pigeon from the Zhangsun family.
The Zhangsun family? Zhen Wenjun remembered that the Zhangsun family was also a prominent clan in Dongchun, with significant connections to the Wei family.
Wei Tingxu took the wooden slip, and Zhen Wenjun, standing to the side, tried her best to sneak a peek. She strained her eyes so much they almost turned to her temples, but she still couldn’t see what was written on the tiny wooden slip. Instead, Wei Tingxu handed the slip directly to her. Zhen Wenjun took it and, upon closer inspection, realized her eyesight was still good; there was nothing on the slip, it was completely blank.
Wei Tingxu said, “Wenjun, toast the wooden slip over the fire.”
It turned out to be hidden writing using alum water; the characters would only appear after the wooden slip was heated over a fire.
After the wooden slip was heated, three characters slowly appeared:
“Arriving tonight (今夜至).” Zhen Wenjun read out loud.
“She arrives tonight, so we won’t wait for Ah Liao.” Wei Tingxu said to the young knight, “You should explain in detail what happened for everyone.”
Zhen Wenjun thought to herself, she had previously suspected that Ah Liao was someone from the Zhangsun family of Dongchun, and she was right.
The young knight’s first words were: “Young Master Ziyun was framed by villains and was captured on his way to Suichuan. He has now been escorted to the capital and imprisoned in the imperial prison, with Tingwei1 Guan Xun personally presiding over his trial.”
From these words, Zhen Wenjun couldn’t gauge the severity of the situation. It seemed that Wei Tingxu was supposed to meet Ziyun in Suichuan, but something happened along the way. Ziyun was a member of the Wei clan, and their meeting in Suichuan was to discuss the disaster relief for the refugees. Now that Ziyun had been arrested for a crime, they probably wouldn’t be able to meet. After hearing this, Lingbi, Xiaohua, and everyone else in the room looked furious. It was clear that the matter was more complicated than she initially thought.
“What crime led to his imprisonment?” Wei Tingxu asked.
“It is said that while Young Master Ziyun was on his way to Suichuan, his father passed away. He failed to return home in time for the funeral, so the Censorate impeached him, stating, ‘A father dies and the son does not return; he is indeed a disgrace to the family, without father or king, worse than beasts.’ The Emperor, enraged, accused him of being unfilial and unworthy of state responsibilities, and specifically ordered Tingwei Shi to rush to Suichuan to arrest him. Upon investigation, it was found that as soon as Lord Wei passed away, the Wei household had sent someone to inform the young master. However, the messenger mysteriously died en route, and the news of Lord Wei’s death did not reach the young master, leading to today’s catastrophe.”
Lingbi angrily exclaimed, “This must be the scheme of that old scoundrel Xie! Framing the young master for being unfilial!”
Zhen Wenjun’s heart was in turmoil: Wei Tingxu’s father died?
Wei Tingxu said, “I only received the news of my uncle’s death yesterday. This trip Ziyun made to Suichuan to quell the unrest seemed easy, but it turns out a trap had long been set for him to fall into. It’s a pity for my cousin, who has always harbored a heart to help the people and alleviate suffering. Ever since he entered officialdom, he has been deeply concerned about the nation and the people. For this trip to Suichuan, he stayed up several nights to devise a series of strategies for stabilizing the state. Alas, he was still plotted against by those foolish men who would drain the pond to catch the fish.”
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So Ziyun was her cousin, and the deceased was her father’s brother. Ziyun had genuinely gone to Suichuan with the intention of rescuing and providing disaster relief for the people, but he was captured and brought back to the capital before he even arrived. Hearing the words “imperial prison” made Zhen Wenjun’s scalp tingle. When she was young, her mother had grown tired of telling war stories and, during Zhen Wenjun’s mischievous age, had told her many tales about the imperial prison. Stories of being tortured with finger clamps and ankle presses, having noses and knees cut off, castration and confinement, and even the severe punishment of being roasted on a burning cart while being interrogated. Getting flogged was considered a minor punishment. Many people died unjustly in prison or confessed under duress. It was said that those who entered the imperial prison rarely saw the light of day again. The prison was filled with countless wrongful death souls, and at night, these vengeful spirits would float around the foul-smelling cells, gnawing on people’s ears and toes.
The imperial prison had been her nightmare since childhood. Now that Wei Ziyun had been falsely imprisoned by an imperial decree, it would be incredibly difficult for him to get out.
“This matter will be the Xie family’s self-dug grave. I have already thought of a good countermeasure,” Wei Tingxu said, holding a feather fan. Although it was cold, she did not wave it but liked to hold it, as if having the fan in her hand meant victory was assured. Her words showed no surprise, as if she had anticipated this all along.
“Xiaohua.”
“Here.” Wei Tingxu did not say what she needed, but merely raised her hand, and Xiaohua immediately understood, quickly preparing the brush, ink, and bamboo slips. With just a small gesture, Zhen Wenjun realized that she had lost—to the tacit understanding built over years between master and servant. If she wanted Wei Tingxu to be dependent on her, she would have to find a way to replace Xiaohua.
Wei Tingxu swiftly wrote on the bamboo slips, her elegant small script falling neatly onto the surface. Standing beside her, Zhen Wenjun openly watched as Wei Tingxu wrote a segment from Wang Zhongxuan’s 《From the Army Poems》, one of the Seven Masters of Jian’an: “With one strike, wipe out the Xiongnu; with another, subdue the Qiang and Yi.” Clearly, this was a hidden message in the form of a poem, meant to be understood only by the recipient.
After finishing, Wei Tingxu placed the bamboo slip into the white cloth bag that Xiaohua handed her. The bag had a black cord tied at the opening, a style used in funerals. The entire Wei family entourage had been disguised as a mourning procession during their journey, a common tactic of Wei Tingxu.
It was unclear to whom she was sending the message or what it contained, but her words, “I have already thought of a good countermeasure,” left Zhen Wenjun feeling a bit unnerved.
Could it be that she had long anticipated her cousin would be imprisoned, and that his misfortune was part of her plan? This person’s ruthlessness and scheming truly send chills down one’s spine.
The young knight remained on high alert, as if ready to leave upon receiving orders. However, Wei Tingxu did not give the item to him but handed it to another guard instead. The guard mounted his horse and quickly disappeared at the end of the long road.
Zhen Wenjun initially thought that Wei Tingxu did not trust the young knight, but this did not make sense, as it was the young knight who had delivered the news of Ziyun’s peril.
Wei Tingxu took a medicine bottle, placed it on her lap, and wheeled herself in the four-wheeled cart to the young knight, handing it to him.
“This…” The young knight was somewhat confused.
Wei Tingxu gently said, “Sir, you have endured much hardship on your journey. A warm bed, wine, and meat have been prepared for you. Please rest early. Once you have recovered from your injuries, there are important duties that I will entrust to you.” As she spoke, she had Xiaohua drape the mink fur shawl from her shoulders onto his.
So, it was a plan to win his loyalty. The young knight appeared deeply moved and bowed deeply to the gentle lady in front of him, saying, “I will go through fire and water for the lady without hesitation!”
The guards took him away to rest. Wei Tingxu stayed up late into the night, waiting until Ah Liao’s carriage arrived under the cover of darkness.
She had thought that Ah Liao, traveling discreetly to avoid attention, would come with a light entourage. Unexpectedly, over ten carriages arrived. When Ah Liao descended from a luxurious four-horse carriage, she was accompanied by four or five beautiful women clinging to her like plaster, unwilling to leave. Their sweet, coquettish voices filled the air, instantly transforming the solemn camp into a bustling pleasure district.
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No wonder Wei Tingxu did not want to travel with her.
Wei Tingxu’s face turned dark, and Ah Liao did not persuade her concubines to leave. Xiaohua stepped forward and angrily shouted, causing the young ladies to retreat in fear.
Ah Liao, dressed in luxurious purple robes and a jade crown, with a face powdered in peach pink, was a style Zhen Wenjun was quite familiar with. She stepped forward, clasped her hands in apology, and said:
“Tingxu, please don’t blame me. Upon hearing the news about Ziyun, I traveled day and night to join you. However, my companions are delicate and couldn’t endure the hardships of the journey, so we arrived a bit late. Come, come, let’s go inside to discuss.”
Wei Tingxu said, “First, wipe off the lipstick mark on your neck.”
Hearing this, Ah Liao raised her hand and wiped, leaving a bright red mark on the back of her hand. She apologized again, embarrassed.
The group filed into the tent in single file. Lingbi lit the lamps, and everyone sat around Wei Tingxu. The atmosphere of conspiracy immediately arose.