On the way back to Chang’an, both remained silent.
Finally, Li Ying asked Yu Fuwei why he had previously sent her to the City of Wrongful Deaths, and why he was now willing to take her back to Chang’an. Yu Fuwei didn’t answer directly, only saying: “After Zheng Yun died, he fell into the evil paths and was imprisoned in the City of Wrongful Deaths.”
Li Ying was slightly startled. Yu Fuwei continued: “Facing those who died because of him, his guilt was immeasurable. Day by day, month by month, his resentment grew heavier. To help him overcome this, the Ten Kings of Hell had him reincarnated as Yu Fuwei, someone opposite to his former self.”
In his previous life, Zheng Yun had achieved nothing, yet could enjoy generous rewards and high positions simply because of his birth. This was precisely the type of person that Yu Fuwei in this life despised most. The Ten Kings of Hell deliberately took away his identity as a member of a prestigious family, making him one of the lowest members of society, constantly scorned and humiliated by people just like his former self. They made it impossible for him to realize his ideals or serve his country, turning what was white in his previous life to black in this life, and what was black before to white now.
Yu Fuwei murmured: “After one grand dream, I finally understand what is right or wrong, correct or incorrect. Since there’s no way to debate right from wrong, rather than dwelling on the past, it’s better to exchange yesterday’s death for today’s life.”
He said: “Before, because I admired the Princess and was concerned for her safety, I wanted to send her to the City of Wrongful Deaths to prevent her from dying alongside Cui Xun. But now, I understand—some deaths weigh heavier than Mount Tai, while others are lighter than goose feathers. Personal love, life, and grievances, when compared to things that weigh more than Mount Tai, are as light as feathers.”
He gazed at Li Ying, his eyes mixed with bitterness, sincerity, and indescribable complexity: “Cui Xun deserves the Princess’s rescue, and the Princess deserves Cui Xun’s deep love. Cui Xun is a son of the Great Zhou, and the Princess is a princess of the Great Zhou.”
As the carriage wheels rattled, Li Ying bit her lip, her eyes filled with tears. She was afraid to ask, but asked anyway: “Cui Xun… how is he?”
Yu Fuwei lowered his head and sighed: “Not good. He’s imprisoned and under torture; all ten fingers have been mutilated. In today’s world, only the Princess can save him.”
Inside the Dali Temple, the Three Departments conducted day and night interrogations, turning it into a human hell. But outside the Dali Temple, Li Ying wasn’t the only one still struggling to help.
He Shisan and several youths stood outside the Xuanwu Gate, looking at the petition drum that was as tall as a person. One youth swallowed nervously and asked He Shisan timidly: “Are we going to do this?”
He Shisan’s expression was impassive: “Think about where the money for your mother’s medical treatment came from. Think about who bought the coffin when your father died.”
The youth’s eyes grew hot, and he lowered his head.
He Shisan said: “I don’t care what he did as the Deputy Director of the Investigation Department—those dirty power struggles that I don’t understand anyway. I only know that without him, we wouldn’t have survived these past few years, let alone had the good life we have now. Even animals know to repay kindness—don’t humans know this too?”
The youths’ hearts surged with emotion: “Good, let’s do it!”
He Shisan was the first to stride toward the petition drum. He took up the drumstick and began to beat it loudly: “Injustice! Injustice!”
The Jinwu Guards watching over the petition drum glanced at each other and quickly went to report to the Gate Guards. Only when more and more citizens gathered outside the Xuanwu Gate did the Left Gate Guard arrive. He scolded: “What are you doing?”
He Shisan shouted: “Injustice! I want to petition against an injustice!”
“Have you already reported to the county, prefecture, and Dali Temple? If not, this counts as skipping levels of appeal! Considering you’re ignorant children, go home quickly!”
“What do you mean by skipping levels? Except for beating this petition drum, which county or prefecture would dare accept my petition?”
“What exactly are you reporting?”
“I’m reporting you all for wronging my brother!”
“Who is your brother?”
He Shisan lifted his head and chest proudly, shouting out the name he had once despised the most: “Cui Xun! You’ve wronged him!”
The Left Gate Guard was stunned. He Shisan shouted: “He beat the petition drum—why did you imprison him in the Dali Temple without any investigation? You call it joint interrogation by the Three Departments, but it’s torture to extract confessions! If His Majesty hadn’t colluded with the Turks, if the Empress Dowager hadn’t protected her son, why would they fear an investigation? Why don’t you investigate the accused, but instead torture the accuser?”
The Left Gate Guard trembled with fear and pointed at He Shisan: “Rebellion! Rebellion!”
The Jinwu Guards swarmed forward, striking He Shisan with their scabbards. He Shisan was kicked to the ground but still shouted to the watching crowd: “Isn’t the petition drum for reporting injustice? Can it not be struck when it involves the Empress Dowager and His Majesty? Or is the saying that ‘when a prince breaks the law, he should be punished the same as a commoner’ just a lie to fool us!”
The citizens were dumbfounded. The other Tianwei Army youths surged forward, all shouting “Injustice!” and beating the drum. When one person was beaten to the ground, another would pick up the drumstick and continue. In front of the petition drum, the ground was covered with blood. The youths, disregarding their lives, continued one after another, just like their older brothers who, six years ago at Luyan Ridge, knowing they would certainly die, had raised their swords and charged at the Turks’ iron cavalry.
In the Penglai Palace, the Empress Dowager sat behind a pearl curtain, listening silently to the rise and fall of the drum beats. The Left Gate Guard reported to her with trepidation: “They’re all twelve or thirteen-year-old troublemakers who can’t be driven away or frightened off. Your servant has already imprisoned them all, but more troublemakers keep coming to beat the petition drum. Your servant believes they are slandering His Majesty, and we should execute some as a warning to others.”
The Empress Dowager’s expression was cold: “You mean, kill twelve or thirteen-year-old children?”
“But they’re causing trouble and rebelling, committing treason…”
“Just keep them imprisoned for now,” the Empress Dowager said wearily. “Lock them up one by one. Eventually, they’ll stop coming.”
The Left Gate Guard answered “Yes,” then continued: “These troublemakers are beating the petition drum without permission, damaging the reputation of Your Highness and His Majesty. Your servant believes we should first deploy the Jinwu Guards to protect the petition drum, prohibiting citizens from striking it, and deal with this matter after the situation has settled.”
The Empress Dowager didn’t indicate approval or disapproval. The Left Gate Guard left with his orders and met Lu Huai, who was waiting outside the hall wearing crimson official robes. When the Empress Dowager summoned him, Lu Huai knelt, kowtowed, and then rose, sarcastically saying: “Since ancient times, there has never been a dynasty that forbade beating the petition drum. The Great Zhou seems to be setting a precedent.”
The Empress Dowager raised her eyes to look at him. Lu Huai had lost considerable weight. He had dug up Wang Xuan’s body from the wilderness outside Changchun Temple. Wang Xuan’s corpse had already begun to decay, but one could still see the terrible torture this frail scholar had endured before death. Lu Huai’s hands trembled as he caressed his close friend, then wept until he fainted several times in front of Wang Xuan’s remains.
After sending Wang Xuan’s body back to the Wang family, Wang Xuan’s wife and two children cried until they were heartbroken. Lu Huai repeatedly promised to take care of their future livelihood, but this couldn’t alleviate their grief over losing a husband and father. Surprisingly, Wang Xuan’s elderly mother was calm. She told Lu Huai, “My son died for righteousness, leaving behind an honorable name. He lived a fulfilled life—why should we grieve?”
Lu Huai was deeply moved. After carefully choosing his words, he asked Wang Xuan’s mother, a servant born to the Wang clan of Langya: “Between righteousness and loyalty, which would you choose?”
Wang Xuan’s mother said: “Righteousness is true righteousness, while loyalty can be blind loyalty.”
The choice was obvious without further explanation.
During this period, the Empress Dowager seemed to have lost all her spirit. Her once raven-black hair now had several strands of white at the temples, and her eyes had lost their former sharp brilliance. She remained silent even in response to Lu Huai’s sarcastic remarks. She said, “Lord Lu, previously I ordered you to return home to await punishment and prohibited you from participating in the joint interrogation by the Three Departments. I have indeed treated you coldly. But you privately released Cui Xun, and I must give His Majesty and the court officials an explanation. After this matter is settled, you may return to the Dali Temple.”
Lu Huai shook his head: “I will not return to the Dali Temple.”
The Empress Dowager was somewhat surprised. Lu Huai said: “My uncle was arrested by my own hands. He took poison in his residence. Before his death, he made me promise to be loyal to the emperor and serve my lord, and not let unworthy people harm His Majesty.”
Lu Huai slowly continued: “The four words ‘loyal to the emperor and serve one’s lord’ have always been my uncle’s principle as an official, as well as mine. But these days, I’ve been thinking—as a subject, one should indeed be loyal to the emperor and serve one’s lord. But what if the emperor is wrong? What if the lord is wrong? Should one still be loyal and serve? Though I am a subject of the Great Zhou, I am also a human being. As a human being, should I be loyal to the emperor, or loyal to principles?”
His eyes were resolute, indicating he had already found his answer. The Empress Dowager behind the pearl curtain remained silent. Lu Huai listened to the sound of the petition drum outside the hall and said, “My uncle raised me, and I used to follow his words without question. But this time, I fear I must disobey. As a human being, I must seek my principles. This process might cost me my life, but I am willing to pay that price.”
His words caused a trace of bewilderment to cross the Empress Dowager’s face. Loyal ministers, common people—she was opposing them all for the sake of her beloved son. Did she still remember, once upon a time, when she didn’t even have a pair of shoes to wear, when she looked up at the majestic and solemn Daming Palace, the bold thought that had flashed through her mind:
Is my dream just to be the concubine of the most powerful person in the world?
Couldn’t I ensure that all the people of the Great Zhou have shoes to wear?
Even though I am a woman, can’t I have such aspirations?
What men can achieve, I can achieve too.
The Empress Dowager’s expression was distant. Lu Huai continued: “I will not serve as an official, nor will I return to the Dali Temple. The instruments of torture at the Dali Temple should not be used to torture a person with a pure heart.”