Ranran let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, but the relief was thin and brittle. Her heart hammered against her ribs; she could not calm herself.
She had never expected to run into Xiao Jinghong like that. She wanted to tell someone—her parents would only worry—and not saying anything made her ache. In the end she went to find Xu Maozhi.
When Xu heard what had happened, fury lit in him. Even the most honest men had tempers. After a moment he said to Ranran, “I’m glad you’re unharmed. If I see him skulking about, I’ll deal with him.”
Ranran still felt apprehensive about Lord Yi’an’s household. Once she cooled down she worried Xu would get himself into trouble on her account. “Please don’t,” she said. “Think of it as a dog bite. I’ll keep away from him. Don’t make enemies because of me.”
Xu’s life had never been easy; unlike others who backed themselves with tangled networks of influence, he had only talent and stubborn courage. If the current emperor hadn’t been a model ruler who kept many accusations at bay, Xu would never have risen so far.
“I know what I’m doing,” Xu replied, a cold light flickering in his eyes. If he couldn’t even protect the woman he cared for, he thought, he might as well throw his life away.
A few days later, at court, Xu stood and announced, “I have a memorial to present. I move to impeach Lord Yi’an’s son, Xiao Jinghong—for frequenting gambling houses, lingering in brothels… and for colluding with merchants in smuggling.”
By law, nobles were forbidden from such places. In practice it was old-fashioned talk—no one usually paid it any mind. So when Xu took the floor with these charges, the court didn’t at first raise an eyebrow. He had always been the sort of man who treated rules as absolute; it was typical of him to single out Lord Yi’an this time, nobody could say why.
Still, murmurs ran through the hall. People remembered Lord Yi’an’s return to the capital and suspected he had designs on the general’s estate. The emperor, eating leisurely, feigned surprise. “Is that true? Then send Lord Yi’an home and make him keep better watch over his son. Xiao Jinghan set a high standard—no one expects Xiao Jinghong to match him, but don’t sully Xiao Jinghan’s name. That will do.”
The emperor hoped that would be the end of it; there was talk of letting court adjourn early. He felt weary—he’d been up early for a bowl of bird’s nest porridge, and now his head spun. Being emperor had its burdens.
But Xu did not stop. Calmly, as if reciting a ledger, he went on: “My memorial continues. Lord Yi’an’s son has been secretly liaising with merchants, arranging illicit shipments.”
At that the whole hall went cold. The emperor straightened, his face hardening. “Explain.”
Lord Yi’an’s face flushed; he stepped forward. “Your Majesty, there is absolutely no truth to this.”
He had only just returned to the capital and had planned to keep his head down. To be shamed so soon was infuriating. Xiao Jinghong lacked neither appetite nor vice—drinking, gambling, and worse were no secret—but smuggling? That was a different accusation altogether. If his son had the skill for that, he’d be boasting—and his father would be less worried.
Xu had been digging into Xiao Jinghong for days. He’d found everything: the gambling dens, the brothels, and even the latter’s boastful claims that because Xiao Jinghan stood close to the emperor, the family would be treated leniently. Xu laid the evidence out plainly, every word the same as the boy’s own.
“With respect, Your Majesty,” Xu said, voice ringing with righteous indignation, “General Xiao gave his life to the state and his name is immortal. If we allow his family to squander that legacy and violate the law, his honor will be ruined. Smuggling also causes grave losses to the realm. In the time of the High Ancestor, the son-in-law of a great princess was executed for such crimes as a warning. I implore Your Majesty to follow that precedent: punish Xiao Jinghong severely as an example.”
Lord Yi’an snapped, his temper lost. “Xu Maozhi, you slander!”
He knew his son’s weaknesses—the drinking and gambling were no secret—and the accusations left him humiliation burning at his collar. But the smuggling charge stung like spitting on his honor. If Xiao Jinghong had that cunning, he would already be wealthy; he was illiterate to such things.
Xu answered without haste. “Do not be hasty, Lord Yi’an. I have proof. Your son did not whisper these things in private—he said them openly, with many witnesses.”
The color drained from Lord Yi’an’s face. The emperor saw the gravity and ordered an investigation by the Court of Judicial Review. “Court adjourned. Xu Maozhi, to the study.”
As Xu stepped down, the emperor, slurping a long mouthful of noodles, called after him with a hint of mischief, “Speak. I’m eating, but I can listen. Hungry yourself?”
The emperor was easy with those he favored; he rarely wore a distant manner. Xu drawled, “I am, in truth.”
“Bring him—bring something for Xu Maozhi,” the emperor said, then stopped when Xu, calm as ever, pulled a small oil-paper packet from his sleeve. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Xu said abruptly. From the packet he extracted a handful of tiny, grape-sized sweets and popped them into his mouth.
Curious, the emperor leaned over. “What did you bring? Let me taste.”
Xu shook his head. These were Ranran’s—she had made them small so he could nibble them in court. He replied with mock gravity, “Your Majesty’s health is precious. I couldn’t offer you common fare. Besides, there aren’t any left.” He swallowed the last pieces.
The emperor stared, half-amused, half-exasperated. Then, handing back his empty bowl to the attendant, he wiped his mouth with the napkin and said, “Get to it. Tell me plainly—has Xiao Jinghong wronged you, or is he truly guilty of these crimes?”
Xu regarded him solemnly. “Both.”
The emperor snorted. “Of course. Start with your private grudge—entertain me.”
Xu’s eyes narrowed. “A grievance over a stolen wife.”
The emperor burst out laughing. “You married? Who would have the eyesight to see you?” His tease was easy; he knew about the matter between Xu and Ranran. It was not that the emperor had suddenly decided to investigate—Xiao Tian had made the whole affair awkwardly present in court more than once, and that discomfort had stuck with him.