Zhang Luo gave a cold laugh: “You’ve never known how to speak to me properly.”
Yang Wan bowed, “Yang Wan acknowledges her error.”
Zhang Luo watched her straighten up after her bow, then suddenly spoke: “Even if you learn of that slave’s situation from Yang Lun, can you save him?”
Yang Wan pressed her lips together, “He never wanted anyone to save him from the beginning.”
Hearing these words, Zhang Luo stepped closer to Yang Wan, close enough that she could almost smell the sandalwood fragrance on him.
“You’re a smarter woman than Yang Lun.”
Yang Wan braced her hand against the wall, “What do you want to tell me, sir?”
“I want to ask why you rejected me to follow someone who doesn’t even qualify as a man.”
“Does this matter so much to you, sir?”
“Yes.”
Zhang Luo raised his voice, “I care. I saw him at the Ministry of Justice hearing the other day, kneeling on the ground at the mercy of the bailiffs. The Great Ming Code shows no mercy to criminal slaves—during torture they strip them naked, and treat them worse than pigs and dogs, with no dignity left. Would you still want to look at such a body?”
Yang Wan’s mind rang with a buzz, “Why do you humiliate him like this?”
“Heh.”
That cold laugh pierced the heart.
“Yang Wan, your words are wrong. It’s not that I want to humiliate him—it’s the Ming Code that must restrain him.”
Hearing these words, Yang Wan suddenly understood that this man’s oppressive aura didn’t come entirely from his malice, but from his obsession with the feudal era’s order. He wasn’t venting personal hatred on Deng Ying—he simply had no compassion for eunuchs, merely taking the scholar-official class’s contempt for palace servants to its extreme.
Yang Wan recalled her senior’s words—perhaps no one remembered that this eunuch dying in agony had once been the builder of this imperial city.
A surge of uncontrollable grief welled up, and tears spilled from her eyes before she could stop them.
She quickly tilted her head back.
Zhang Luo looked at her, “You cry for him? When did this begin?”
As he spoke, he raised his hand.
Yang Wan dodged to the side.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Hmph.”
Zhang Luo laughed coldly, “Yang Wan, I’ve been traveling east and west these past few years, not inquiring after your affairs. The other day when father asked about you, I was thinking, if I had married you earlier, kept you by my side, and properly restrained you, would you be different from how you are now?”
“Restrain? What are women in your eyes?”
The words burst from Yang Wan’s lips, but after speaking them, a pale sense of futility rose in her mind.
Saying such words to Zhang Luo six hundred years ago was completely meaningless.
Just as she was about to speak again, Yang Lun’s shout suddenly came from behind.
“Zhang Luo!”
Yang Wan turned to see Yang Lun striding quickly up from Huiji Gate, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind him.
“What are you doing? This is the inner palace!”
Zhang Luo stepped back, “No need for such behavior, Minister Yang. Your sister’s character is known throughout the city—I find it too dirty to touch.”
With that, he turned and walked toward the gate.
Yang Lun’s throat ached with anger. He started to pursue but was held back by Yang Wan’s grip on his sleeve.
“Let him talk. It won’t take a piece of flesh off me.”
Yang Lun turned around, “Did he lay hands on you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying…”
Yang Wan hurriedly wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
Yang Lun looked at Yang Wan helplessly.
Back home, Yang Wan used to cry in front of him often, but since bringing her back from South Lake, this was the first time Yang Lun had seen her red-eyed.
“I’m going to question Zhang Luo!”
“Enough, brother! It’s nothing. Don’t antagonize him at this time.”
As she spoke, she stumbled from his pull. Yang Lun quickly turned to steady her, looking down at her face, “As long as he didn’t hurt you, that’s good. Otherwise, your brother wouldn’t let him off.”
Yang Wan nodded, “I know. Thank you, brother.”
Seeing her tears had stopped, Yang Lun straightened up and calculated the time, then asked, “Why are you here?”
“Oh, Hu Siji ordered me to come, there’s business at the Archives Collection.”
“Is it finished?”