Deng Ying listened quietly to this conversation, then looked up to see Zheng Yuejia gripping his teacup so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and gave a gentle cough.
Though Zheng Yuejia came to his senses, he nearly dropped his teacup.
As they chatted, time passed quickly. After noon, the Grand Secretariat’s memorials were delivered.
He Yixian flipped through the first few and gestured for Deng Ying to come over. “You review and endorse these.”
Deng Ying accepted them reverently and stood at a long table near the window, opening the memorials.
The topmost one was written by Censor Huang Ran, its contents still requesting the establishment of a Crown Prince.
This man was the third-ranked scholar in the imperial examinations of the second year of Zhenning, known for his careful word choice and literary brilliance.
Deng Ying rolled up his sleeves, and dipped his brush in vermillion ink, feeling melancholic.
In his youth, he had imagined himself becoming someone who would write petitions on behalf of the common people, offering counsel for the empire, with his elegant writings spreading across the four seas and his social connections spanning the capital. But now, he had become someone who read such petitions and memorials. Though he still held a brush, each character he wrote was a crime under the iron plaque.
As he was about to write, he suddenly remembered Noble Consort Ning’s question to him: “How would people live if they knew their fate?”
Did he truly know his fate?
He did know, but he didn’t want to tell Yang Wan, fearing she couldn’t bear it – that despair he was still struggling to process.
By the You hour (5-7 PM), Deng Ying left the Supervisorate of Imperial Ceremonial and made another stop at the Depot office, and by the time he returned to his quarters at the City Moat Direct Office, the sky had completely darkened. Li Yu brought food to his room, placed it on the table, and wiped his hands on his clothes. “I heated it again, eat while it’s hot.”
Deng Ying took off his official robes, put on a grey-blue robe, casually lit a lamp, and took out a key to open the cabinet beside his bed, retrieving the medicine he had brought back from the Imperial Dispensary.
Watching his actions, Li Yu asked puzzled, “What are you doing? Aren’t you going to eat?”
Deng Ying looked at the food on the table and smiled at Li Yu. “You eat it.”
Li Yu swallowed. “Really?”
Deng Ying stood up straight. “Yes, Wan-wan said you’re still growing.”
Li Yu’s eyebrows raised slightly.
“Wan-wan? Who’s that?”
Deng Ying started, quickly coughing. “Oh, Lady Yang.”
Li Yu said, “My sister never lets Chief Secretary Chen call her by her name, you’re quite bold.”
Deng Ying unconsciously nodded. “Yes, I shouldn’t call her that. Don’t tell her.”
Li Yu said, “I’d say you should be more careful. Yang Wan is even tougher than my sister, she’s quite formidable.”
He took a bite of meat and vegetables, then continued, “Today I passed by the Palace of Extended Joy’s entrance, and it was quite satisfying to see. Palace Superintendent Chen from the Palace Administration brought quite a few people and gave those servants who looked down on everyone a good beating. Afterward, they were made to beg Noble Consort Ning’s forgiveness. I later heard from my sister that Yang Wan dragged those loose-tongued people before the Empress, and coincidentally, His Majesty was also having lunch with the Empress and hadn’t left yet. After hearing Yang Wan’s words, he didn’t even protect Noble Lady Jiang, and immediately ordered the Palace Administration to arrest people.”
Deng Ying asked, “What did she say?”
Li Yu, with his mouth full of food, said indistinctly, “You can ask her yourself, but it might have to wait a few days. My sister said that although the Emperor punished the Palace of Extended Joy, Senior Lady Jiang also got angry at Yang Wan. Who knows where she’s being confined right now.”
Deng Ying didn’t ask further.
Li Yu put down his chopsticks and said, “By the way, what’s the medicine for?”
“Oh, it’s for soaking my foot injury.”
He pulled his robe tighter and walked toward the door. “I’ll go brew it first. Could you close the door for me later?”
Li Yu stood up. “You’re always doing these things yourself, boiling water and carrying basins. The Supervisorate gave you several eunuchs to serve you, but you won’t accept them. How about letting me serve you instead? Following you might lead to success someday.”
Deng Ying smiled but didn’t respond.
When he returned with the medicinal brew, Li Yu had already cleaned up the table, bowls, and chopsticks and left.
Though the charcoal was burning in the room, it was still somewhat cold. Deng Ying pulled the brazier closer, took off his shoes and socks, and sat on the edge of the couch, rolling up his trouser legs.
Although the injury had reached the bone and couldn’t be completely cured, following Yang Wan’s advice about using medicine for warm soaks, it truly didn’t hurt as much as before.
He straightened up and casually picked up a book from the bed. He hadn’t read more than two pages when he suddenly heard Li Yu outside saying, “Hey, why are you limping?”
Then came Yang Wan’s deliberately lowered voice: “Shh… can’t you be a little quieter?”
“You… you… what are you sneaking around for?”
“I’m bringing him food and secretly getting medicine. I saw him leave earlier, so I came back with food. He… hasn’t returned yet, has he?”