The Jiangdong Case

“This is Floating Light and Golden Touch, this is Blue Ground Kesi with Colorful Butterflies, and this one—the Auspicious Wish Fan—embroidered in red silk... May I ask which one you two prefer? Or perhaps... all of them?”

The round fan shop owner smiled warmly at the visitors: one dressed in a dark red floral-patterned mandarin robe, the other in a stone-blue embroidered bamboo silk straight robe—either wealthy or noble. The owner’s eyes curved like crescent moons, as if these two were not customers but shining gold ingots before him.

Third Miss immediately favored the Auspicious Wish Fan and asked Summer Yunhe cheerfully, “How about this one?”

Summer Yunhe took the fan, examined it carefully, then suddenly recalled something, shook his head, coughed a few times, and said, “No, it won’t do.”

The shop owner glared, holding his sleeve and pointing at the peony design on the fan. “Oh dear, sir, this style and color would suit your lady perfectly.”

Summer Yunhe furrowed his brows. “No.”

Seeing this, Third Miss lost interest, abandoned the red fan, and casually picked up a white fox silk painted carved round fan nearby. “How about this one?”

The shop owner, sensing the gloomy atmosphere, chuckled. “This one’s good—called White Fox Worshipping the Moon. A very auspicious sign.”

Third Miss paid for it herself, then left the fan shop in a huff.

Summer Yunhe was about to leave too but was stopped by the owner, who twirled his mustache and asked, “Sir, won’t you spend a single coin?”

She was momentarily stunned, then nodded with a smile.

The shop owner was frustrated, muttering to himself about bad luck. Hanging up the fan, he turned back to find Summer Yunhe still standing outside the shop, gazing down the street. Following her line of sight, he saw a man riding a tall horse with a dignified bearing, though a sly glint lurked in his eyes.

He glanced at a frail scholar watching intently, sneering, “That’s Chen Haizhou. He may look decent, but he’s utterly unscrupulous.” Then, his gaze swept over Summer Yunhe as if her refusing to buy a fan was just as irresponsible.

Summer Yunhe couldn’t catch the underlying tone and chose not to dwell on it. Her heart stirred—Chen Haizhou has returned from Jiangdong? Then, the Marquis Anhe... If her memory served, in her past life, the Marquis Anhe committed suicide by swallowing gold, implicating many—it was quite a scandal.

The fan shop was well placed; though blocked by the crowd behind her, the elevated spot allowed an unobstructed view of the street.

Chen Haizhou seemed to notice her, smirked slightly, urged his horse forward, and passed before her eyes. Following came several dozen black-clad guards, dozens of chained prison carts in a long line, flanked by fierce sword guards. The prisoners looked distressed, their clothes tattered. On one cart, a body covered by white cloth was bound with thick hemp ropes to prevent it from slipping; the cloth stained red with dark blood—an unsettling scene.

The crowd along the road held their breath; some children were frightened and just uttered a cry before their parents hurriedly covered their mouths.

How long did Chen Haizhou’s procession last? Summer Yunhe didn’t know, only the clatter of wheels and pounding hooves echoed relentlessly in her mind.

Once the black-clad guards departed, the shop owner sighed, “How pitiful.”

The street slowly cleared, the dark clouds over Vermilion Bird Avenue dispersed, and the sun shone brightly. Yet she felt colder than the dead of winter.

Turning to glance at the fiery red fan inside the shop, recalling Third Miss’s fondness for it, Summer Yunhe’s heart softened. She paid the silver, covered her lips to cough a couple of times, and leisurely made her way home.

...

Inside the Summer residence.

Third Miss was a simple girl, content for a long while with just a red silk peony fan with a bamboo handle.

Summer Yunhe said, “If you go to the Dragon Boat Festival banquet, take the white fan. The red fan is taboo. Consort Wan dislikes others using red. Under so many eyes, it would inevitably invite trouble. The fan shop was bustling, so I couldn’t say much.”

Upon hearing this, Third Miss’s displeasure vanished at once. She tugged Zhenniang to help pick out clothes, then came back to thank her, curiously asking, “Sir, when you were in Jiangnan before, did no one ever call you ‘Miss’?”

Summer Yunhe was momentarily at a loss. Seeing this, Third Miss quickly smacked her own mouth. “I spoke out of turn.”

Waving Third Miss away, Summer Yunhe took up her brush and copied from the military records anew; the past was unchangeable, and she wished only to do well in the present.

...

News of Chen Haizhou’s return spread throughout the city in less than half a day. Over the next fortnight, dozens were executed by secret guards, totaling 633 people including those from Jiangdong. The sky remained overcast with persistent drizzle for ten days, quelling the usual clamor of the capital, leaving only the sound of raindrops.

The court was restless as well. Chen Haizhou’s first appearance at the court caused an uproar. Wan Jing led a group accusing Chen Haizhou of arrogant and wanton killings of dukes and marquises, while the faction of Liu Rongshan bitterly condemned Wan Jing and others for embezzling Jiangdong funds.

The two sides assailed each other, the court rife with gossip.

Summer Yunhe rubbed her temples and stepped back a few paces from the spatters of flying spit. Though all officials were civil servants, tempers flared fiercely, and wooden tablets were sometimes thrown at heads.

She stole a glance at the emperor, who ruled with calm authority, watching the debate silently. Summer Yunhe’s heart skipped—a rivalry among princes that had intensified since the crown prince’s instigation of the fifth prince to abduct the seventh prince was now fully underway, seemingly accelerated in this life.

Gradually, the ministers split down the middle, each side hurling insults at the other.

Summer Yunhe’s rank was low, and nearer the door, so she moved further back, clarity dawning—The emperor was distinguishing factions, perhaps one of the purposes of this court session.

She looked toward Chen Haizhou, who smiled at her with a curl at the corner of his mouth that unsettled her.

Summer Yunhe frowned—Chen Haizhou knew she disguised herself as a man, and if Emperor He knew, she would be immediately dismissed and imprisoned. Her continued presence meant Chen Haizhou kept silent. Such secrecy was terrifying, like a hand grasping her throat. The situation was bleak. He claimed to be her friend, but she didn’t believe a word.

Suddenly, someone clutched his forehead and cried out. The quarrel ceased instantly as the man fainted, collapsing backward.

The court session ended abruptly with the man’s injury and collapse.

After the court, street performers gathered at the roadside, their gongs drawing crowds. Summer Yunhe was amused by one performer’s comical face and stopped.

After a few opening words, the performer struck a small gong and sang:

“Evil tiger, ugly and hairless,
Bites wildly, woof woof woof,
Falsely accusing the good,
Vengeful spirits block the way,
Raise your sleeves to wipe tears,
Both lapels soaked through...”

Someone remarked, “I heard after the Marquis Anhe died, Chen Haizhou ordered his belly cut open to retrieve gold!”

The crowd murmured sympathetically, muttering “What a sin,” shaking their heads.

Summer Yunhe stepped away. Behind her, the gong fell with a clang. Suddenly, people screamed and scattered. She turned to see the performer clutching his neck, collapsing in a pool of blood, gasping, eyes fixed on the street.

Nearby, a rice ball shop swayed a bamboo sign in the wind—its “Heji” characters flipped with the bamboo.

Her nose flared, catching the scent of blood on the breeze. She felt nauseous, retching but nothing came out. The fleeing crowd left her alone, ears ringing in silence, fingers unsteady, the world spinning black—she knew nothing.

Memories flashed like a revolving lantern: her father whipping her with a long whip, her mother shielding her, words she couldn’t catch. She wanted to go home so badly, to drink another bowl of hot pork rib and lotus soup...

“Father.”

Her throat moved slightly. She forced her eyes open, tears wetting the pillow, propping herself up and looking around. Her mind was blank except for the unwilling, pained eyes of the performer. She clutched her head, sitting dazed.

Someone parted the curtain and entered.

Summer Yunhe was startled but, after a long look, recognized a handsome young man.

The youth brought a bowl of white porridge. Seeing her awake, he brightened and sat on the edge of the kang (heated brick bed), blowing on the spoonful of porridge. “Sir, you’ve been asleep for two days. Have some porridge.”

The word “sir” slowly pulled Summer Yunhe back to herself, piecing together memories. This was the Summer residence, a place meant for peace. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her mind and reach for the porcelain bowl, but Xie Yi gently dodged her.

“Sir, you’re too weak; the bowl is heavy. I’ll feed you.”

Summer Yunhe turned her head to avoid him, frowning slightly, her breath faint. “Your Highness, what are you doing here?”

Xie Yi smiled ruefully, “Knowing you’d faint, I lost my appetite and couldn’t sleep, so I begged the emperor for permission to come see you.”

Summer Yunhe closed her eyes and replied weakly, “I thank Your Highness for your concern, but I can manage myself.”

The youth pursed his lips, reluctant to hand over the bowl.

“Where are the servants from my residence? Let them come.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Xie Yi reluctantly said, “They’re waiting outside. I’ll go fetch them.”

He took the porridge away again. Summer Yunhe rubbed her forehead, having slept two days and feeling terribly thirsty.

Once everyone arrived, Summer Yunhe saw Zhenniang, Third Miss, and Li Fushun. Zhenniang and Third Miss squeezed close on either side of her; when she said she was thirsty, they quickly brewed tea, which she drank in several long sips, finally quenching her thirst.

Xie Yi pushed Third Miss aside with the porridge. “Sir, have some porridge.”

Li Fushun called to him, “Your Highness, it’s getting late; we should go.”

Xie Yi looked at the porridge longingly, hesitated, then handed it to Zhenniang. He looked at Summer Yunhe, “Sir, I’ll come see you again in a few days.”

Summer Yunhe nodded to Li Fushun, who smiled and told her to rest.

Zhenniang escorted Xie Yi and Li Fushun out. Third Miss leaned against the doorframe, watching Xie Yi disappear beyond the gate before turning around, patting her chest and exhaling.

She came over, set the kang table right, then brought a warm bowl of eight-treasure porridge. “Dear, that seventh prince is truly dangerous. When he arrived, his brow was dark, matching Chen Haizhou’s sly look. He insisted on borrowing the kitchen to cook porridge for you. Zhenniang said it was already done, but he said no, he had to cook it himself.”

Summer Yunhe lowered her head, slowly eating the porridge, interrupting her, “Don’t speak recklessly.”

Third Miss fell silent, sitting quietly to the side. Seeing Summer Yunhe eat slowly, she grew anxious. “Sir, the day before yesterday, the military officer from the patrol camp brought you back. The capital is chaotic lately. I heard from Chief Steward Li that the emperor ordered you to rest.”

Summer Yunhe paused, then said slowly, “You seem to know quite a lot.”

Third Miss chuckled proudly. “Of course. I know everything happening in the neighborhood. Sir, let me tell you about it…”

Summer Yunhe coughed twice, finished the last spoonful of porridge, forced a smile, and said, “Another time. I’m a bit tired.”

Third Miss said “Oh,” nodded, and left.

The next day at noon, Summer Yunhe felt her strength restored and wished to sit quietly in the courtyard. Yet two attendants took turns watching her, forbidding her to be exposed to the wind. On the kang table lay a game of Go; she played both black and white alone.

Her thoughts drifted back to the past life: after the performer’s death, some spoke out at court.

The Marquis Anhe case implicated hundreds in Jiangdong; she could not change that. The innocent performer died before her eyes; she could not change that either.

Third Master had taken her copied military records to the border city. She wanted to leave the capital; to waste away in political scheming here, seventeen years later, the northern barbarians would breach the city.

If she could truly escape this mess, she would leave, no matter the cost.

But before then... Summer Yunhe tapped her head, picked up a black stone from the Go box, and, as a cluster of white stones was about to surround, she extended three lines upward, placing a stone in the upper left corner’s empty space. She wanted to try and save the two ministers who had died speaking out at court.

If she succeeded, it would be the most meaningful thing she had done since rebirth.