In the deep night of the Northern Suppression Bureau’s imperial prison, it was so quiet that every moan from each cell could be heard clearly.
Although there had been an empire-wide amnesty during the Zhenning era that emptied most of the prisons across the land, the imperial prison operated outside the judicial system and wasn’t included in the amnesty. The prison held too many inmates, and some cases had dragged on for so long that even the Emperor had forgotten about certain people still languishing in their cells.
In the third year of Zhenning, White Cabinet Minister Bai Huan and his son, Minister of Justice Bai Yuyang, jointly petitioned Emperor Zhenning to review the major cases in the imperial prison. That prison cleanup had resolved over a hundred cases and emptied a third of the cells. However, due to the Imperial Guards’ subsequent widespread surveillance and their tendency to make mountains out of molehills, along with the rise of literary inquisition cases, the prison became overcrowded again within a year. When the people from Tongjia Academy were arrested, they had to squeeze ten people into a single cell.
Due to his special status, Zheng Yuejia wasn’t imprisoned with the others but was locked in a cell closest to the torture chamber.
As evening approached, the day’s heat gradually dissipated, and moisture condensed on the stone walls, dripping down drop by drop. Zheng Yuejia lay on the straw mat, each breath carrying the taste of blood. Just as he was about to ask for water, the main door outside his cell suddenly opened. The prison warden led Deng Ying down the stone steps, saying, “How would you like to question him? Should we take the prisoner to the torture chamber, or…”
“No need,” Deng Ying interrupted. “I don’t have many questions.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man opened Zheng Yuejia’s cell door and roughly pulled him up from the ground, forcing him into a kneeling position.
“Commander, while you question him, I’ll fetch you a chair.”
Zheng Yuejia steadied himself against the ground, enduring the pain in his lower body as he raised his head to look at Deng Ying.
“I somewhat understand now why you insisted on competing with the Ancestral Faction for the position at the Eastern Depot…”
Deng Ying said softly, “You don’t need to kneel. If you can’t bear it, lie down.”
Zheng Yuejia shook his head. “Between us, neither should pity the other.”
After speaking, he hunched his shoulders and coughed several times until his spine collapsed, blood and phlegm dripping from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with his prison sleeve and, trembling, pushed himself back up with both arms.
“While I still have some strength… let me tell you what needs to be said.”
“Speak.”
Zheng Yuejia caught his breath and tried to steady his voice. “You Guichun was from a military household in the capital’s outskirts. When the Wet Nurse Bureau was selecting a wet nurse for the Second Prince, I investigated her background and her husband’s family history. They were all clean. Looking back now, perhaps too clean. As for me…”
He pressed the corner of his mouth. “I never instructed her to do anything, but at this point, I have no way to defend myself, so you must keep yourself clear of this.”
Deng Ying said, “His Majesty is convinced someone must be behind you. Though you have no way to defend yourself, you must still try, otherwise, this case won’t be resolved and will implicate even more people.”
Hearing this, Zheng Yuejia’s arms trembled slightly.
“What way is there…” He looked up at Deng Ying. “Let me die quickly.”
“Zheng Yuejia.”
Deng Ying called his name loudly. “His Majesty forbids execution and suicide. Don’t think about a quick death. I can’t even stop the Northern Suppression Bureau from torturing you…”
“What can I do now?”
Zheng Yuejia interrupted Deng Ying, looking up. “Tell me… I’ll do as you say.”
Deng Ying crouched down. “Only during questioning will we know who’s really behind this and what exactly they want you to confess to. But during this process, you can’t confess to anything. You need to give me time.”
Zheng Yuejia coughed out a laugh. “Resist, you mean?”
He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and sighed, “Very well…”
The next day, the Northern Suppression Bureau interrogated Zheng Yuejia.
Visitors weren’t allowed in the imperial prison except during formal questioning when family members could kneel in the courtyard and see the prisoner from afar.
Zheng Yuejia’s family had been disbanded, with only his uncle’s family remaining in the capital, living off his support. Now hearing of his crime, his uncle came alone, hoping to bring him some medicine and food.
Though well-intentioned, when he saw Zheng Yuejia covered in wounds, he was heartbroken and couldn’t help but kneel in the courtyard, crying, “Back then you insisted on entering the palace to give us a way to survive. Now, we’ve survived thanks to you, but who can save you…”
Zheng Yuejia shouted from the platform, “What place is this? How dare you come here! Go back quickly!”
His uncle, hurt by Zheng Yuejia’s rebuke, became even more distraught and spoke more chaotically.
“Don’t send me away… The young miss at home didn’t dare come see you openly, but she made some food for you. Nothing can be delivered to you there, and we can only see you at this moment. You’ve been so good to me, your uncle, and to our family’s young miss, a thousand times good, ten thousand times good. Seeing you like this, how can I bear it… Oh, great officials of justice, this child of our family is truly innocent…”
He continued crying and shouting incoherently, repeatedly describing Zheng Yuejia’s filial acts. The Imperial Guards kept ordering him to stop and finally simply arrested him too.
This arrest unexpectedly led to something that could turn everything upside down, as something slipped from his mouth.
Zhang Luo sat in the main hall of the judiciary office, with Zheng Yuejia’s uncle’s confession under his hand. Two rounds of tea had gone cold without him taking a sip.
Unfamiliar footsteps approached from outside, and he half-raised his eyes and called out coldly, “Who’s outside?”
“It’s this old servant.”
Zhang Luo recognized He Yixian’s voice and quickly folded the confession, setting it aside.
“Enter.”
He Yixian entered the main hall and bowed to Zhang Luo.
“This old servant has come today to tell you something, sir.”
Zhang Luo said coldly, “A message from His Majesty?”
He Yixian shook his head. “It concerns the case of the Second Prince’s assassination attempt. His Majesty doesn’t know yet.”
“Then speak tomorrow during the continued questioning in open court.”
He turned to leave as he finished speaking.
“Commander Zhang.”
He Yixian called out to stop him, speaking slowly, “What this old servant has to say concerns the royal family’s reputation. It cannot be spoken of in open court, only discussed privately between us before reporting to His Majesty.”