In the early spring of the first year of Jinghe, He Yixian and others were transferred to the Northern Command Prison for judgment. When this news spread through the capital, it triggered a wave of case reversals for wrongful convictions across the regions. He Yixian had controlled the Ceremonial Office for fourteen years, embezzling countless amounts of money and grain fields. The number of criminal cases involved made even the Ministry of Justice officials gasp in amazement. Qi Huaiyang had no choice but to borrow officials from the Imperial Academy and Censorate to assist with the trials. However, due to severe injuries from torture, He Yixian didn’t survive past the second month, dying in prison.
Yet He Yixian’s death did not quell the anger of the court and common people.
The Donglin scholars spoke as if drawing swords and wrote as if wielding knives, prying open and condemning case after case from the previous reign. Among them, the most heartbreaking were the Tongjia Tragedy and the Zhang Zhanchun case.
In early February, the Ministry of Justice requested to retry both the Tong and Zhang cases. Relatives of the academy students, together with Zhang Zhanchun’s son, came to the capital from various regions. Three years had passed—parents’ temples had grayed, while their children were still young. They supported each other as they walked through the city streets, and onlookers couldn’t help but shed tears at the sight.
The combined voices of the educational officials and the common people created such intense public sentiment that the Northern Command had to order He Yixian’s body temporarily kept in prison.
The other accused eunuchs in the Ceremonial Office, seeing He Yixian die with no one to claim his body and thinking of their fate, were all too terrified to sleep. Though Deng Ying was imprisoned like the others, when the three departments’ joint release document reached the Command, he was no longer interrogated nor restricted in food and water like other prisoners.
“Director, only you can escape with your life…”
Several recording eunuchs from the Ceremonial Office wept before Deng Ying, pulling at their chains.
“If we had known it would be like this, we would never have followed the old patriarch.”
Deng Ying looked down at these two men, “It’s all the same.”
“How can it be the same?”
The man wept bitterly, “The Ministry of Justice and the Censorate have started investigating old cases. Following the old patriarch, we don’t even know if we took lives or not. Now, we can’t survive. Forget about leaving with you, Director; we can’t even keep our lives. My heart is full of regret…”
As he finished speaking, the others began weeping too.
Deng Ying looked out of the cell.
The spring air was humid, with large drops of water clinging to the blue-black walls.
Perhaps because of the brilliant spring sun, occasional warm rays could be seen through gaps in the walls, though they didn’t linger long before him.
“What are you all wailing about? Wait until the charges come down, then you’ll have something to cry about!”
The jailer’s shout came from outside the cell, and everyone quickly fell silent.
“Deng Ying.”
The jailer opened the cell door and called his name from the entrance.
“Here.”
“Get up and come out.”
Deng Ying stood up, and suddenly a eunuch beside him grabbed the chain under his arm.
“Director…”
The man’s voice was hoarse.
Deng Ying steadied himself and turned back, crouching down to support him, saying evenly, “Let go of your hand.”
The man shook his head and cried, “You are our patriarch, please save our lives. Your son kowtows to you… kowtows…”
At this, the others also prostrated themselves, several elderly recording eunuchs, now white-haired, each calling themselves ‘son’ and heavily striking their foreheads against the ground.
“Get them all up!”
The jailers rushed forward at the order, quickly pulling these people up and pressing them against the wall.
Deng Ying listened to the sobbing throughout the cell, took a few steps forward, and raised his voice, “All lives are precious, but if the law could make exceptions for personal feelings, how could the spirits of my teacher and the Tongjia Academy students rest in peace? You want to live, but did they want to die? Besides, I am twenty-seven years old, once the son of a criminal official, and my family registry has already been erased. I view myself with shame and dare not even speak of human relationships.”
“Director…”
Deng Ying said no more, turning to leave the cell and being led to the Northern Command court hall.
Zhang Luo sat waiting for him in the hall, and seeing him brought in, put down the official documents and said, “No need to kneel, today is not a formal hearing.”
He stood up and walked out from behind the desk, telling the jailer, “Remove what’s on him.”
Deng Ying cooperatively raised his hands, looking sideways toward the outside of the court hall.
On this sunny day, willow catkins floated softly in the air. Though the wind was still cold, it blew very gently, entering his sleeves without feeling chilly.
“No need to look anymore.”
Zhang Luo placed the release document before his eyes, “After signing, you can leave here.”
Deng Ying withdrew his gaze and nodded to Zhang Luo.
“Give him his clothes.”
As Deng Ying took the clothes, he suddenly heard Zhang Luo ask, “What’s your given name?”
“Fu Ling.”
“Who gave it to you?”
Deng Ying paused before saying, “Master Zhang gave it to me.”
“Zhang Zhanchun?”
“Yes.”
Zhang Luo lowered his head and was silent for a while, then turned to look at Deng Ying, “The Ministry of Justice has requested to retry both the Tongjia case and Zhang’s case. I’m reviewing the files from back then. Zhang’s case involves you—do you have anything to declare?”
Deng Ying bowed deeply to Zhang Luo, “Please clear my teacher’s name, sir.”
“Clearing his name makes you the criminal in the Liuli Factory case.”