Ink Burns

Chapter 310 No Sins (Part 2)

With various interactions involving renting a courtyard, settling people in, and helping with lawsuits, Zhou Fangniang's visits suddenly increased in the days leading up to the Lunar New Year. She was also more grateful to Shanyue and her attitude became closer, with a sense of relief and release of her true nature.

Things that were difficult to say before, and ideas that were inconvenient to communicate, can now be said.

Gossip from the east and west—Shanyue had never heard so much everyday chatter in her life.

They might talk about which concubine, a "Qingfeng," refused to accept her fate and was beaten to death by her own wife; or which official secretly tried to find an antidote after taking "Qianji Yin" and ended up dying from it; or how the "Qingfeng" sent to the palace fared relatively well as palace maids, but those who became concubines had much worse fates, none of whom managed to establish themselves during the Yongping era. Some were caught making mistakes before they even had a chance to work, and were either confined to their quarters and never allowed to leave the palace again, or directly sent back to their homes.

Zhou Fangniang's evaluation of Emperor Yongping was quite good: "The emperor is benevolent and kind. In all these years, he has never ordered anyone to be executed. Perhaps it is because of this benevolence that he has managed to escape the pursuit and interception of 'Qingfeng' many times by chance."

Shanyue smiled.

Renhe?

That's clever.

He was so clever that he protected himself when he was in a vulnerable position, which everyone thought was just good luck.

However, in times of chaos and power transition, people would rather have a cold but wise emperor than a benevolent monarch.

When talking about Emperor Yongping, one cannot avoid mentioning the funeral and posthumous title he prepared for Jing'an a few days ago.

"The Emperor is ultimately concerned with his reputation. His Highness has never been particularly close to or biased towards the Emperor. Yet, to this day, he is willing to bestow such a fine posthumous title upon His Highness," Zhou Fangniang sighed.

It's just empty fame, not involving any real benefit, and any emperor would be willing to give it.

Shan Yue paused, then suddenly remembered that the 30th of the twelfth lunar month was the day when Jing'an's coffin was buried. She suddenly asked, "Has the tombstone for Grand Princess Jing'an been erected yet?"

Zhou Fangniang shook her head: "No, the tombstone will only be erected after the date of burial is determined."

Shan Yue pursed her lips, but suddenly remembered that after Xue Xiao took on the task of searching the Grand Princess's residence, he had been returning home at sunset and going out at sunrise for the past few days. Since Emperor Yongping had chosen to let Jing An go, he had already sealed the fate of Jing An. Why should Xue Xiao search his residence as meticulously as if he were investigating a criminal?
Unless, Xue Xiao is going to disobey.

The emperor may bestow posthumous fame upon them, but powerful ministers are unwilling to embellish the truth.

Shan Yue let out a long breath: Xue Xiao is the anchor, which can set the course. But everyone has forgotten about the anchor, like a whale falling to its death, unwilling to change course even if it is shattered to pieces.

Sure enough, it was the last day of the twelfth lunar month in the ninth year of Yongping.

The Twelfth Alley in the east of the city, where the Grand Princess Jing'an's residence is located, was in an uproar.

A crack appeared in the wooden planks of the high wall surrounding the Grand Princess's residence, and bones covered in soil were pieced together into human shapes, lying quietly on the ground. Some of the bones even had tattered pieces of cloth still attached to them, not yet completely corroded by snakes, insects, rats, or the passage of time.

The skeletons were made of bones, some so small that some of the finger bones were even shorter than a rusty key.

Some of the tattered fabric still retains a faint resemblance to its original color and pattern.

Curious onlookers squinted and peered through the crack, then cried out in alarm, "Little Wu! It's our Little Wu's clothes! Little Hua was wearing this blue and white floral linen coat when she went missing! The flowers were embroidered by her mother!"

This winter, six or seven young children went missing in the neighboring alleys, the oldest being four or five years old and the youngest only two or three.

I still can't find it.

The loss of a child in the capital was a serious matter, and the matter was reported to the authorities. However, the officials in charge could not find any clues after investigating and could only say that the child had been kidnapped by beggars and sold to another place.

Who would have thought that the child had been in the capital all along?

They were simply buried in the ground. The onlookers were instantly enraged. In the ensuing scuffle, they pushed the wooden barriers that had been erected to the ground, and dust billowed up. The white bones on the ground finally saw the light of day.

The snow gleamed like a quenched knife, cleaving through the rotten dampness!
The seven child skeletons pieced together are like seven cries that were never uttered, piecing together a complete truth.

"Ah-ah-ah!"

"Old Zuo's dog, Chen Laosan's son, Cui Niang's youngest daughter, and Bai's fifth son... how did they all become skeletons?!"

"My son! Where has your skin and your life gone?!"

The people roared and surged forward!

The cries, screams, and wails mingled together, like the humming of a red-hot iron rod inserted into water, filled with grief and indignation. Someone frantically dug through the bones and found the longevity lock, now stripped of its bronze color, around their child's neck in the mud. They looked up to the sky and let out a long cry: "My son—my son!"

The gates of the Grand Princess's residence were wide open. The grief-stricken commoners, who seemed to have found some extraordinary courage, grabbed the usually respectful official and cried out, "Were these bones dug up from the Grand Princess's residence?!"

The guards on the perimeter stumbled unexpectedly, their eyes filled with pity. They didn't utter a word, yet they said everything.

No one knows who started it, but one stone after another was smashed against the grand red-lacquered gate of the Grand Princess's mansion with a "bang bang bang"!
At this point, the insults had long since disregarded the law that insulting members of the imperial clan could result in the execution of nine generations of their family.

An official tried to step forward to dissuade him, but was stopped by an arm that blocked his way.

"Let them curse."

Xue Xiao's face was ashen, and his voice was low and heavy: "Why can't they curse? — If there are consequences, I will take responsibility."

******
On New Year's Eve, a young eunuch stood guard outside the Linde Hall. In his boredom, the white mist he exhaled coincided perfectly with the direction from which the smoke from the auspicious beasts inside the hall drifted.

At this moment, the hall was quiet and tense, with no trace of the joy of welcoming the New Year.

Emperor Yongping leaned forward slightly, his right hand clenched into a fist, and the protruding knuckles of his hand tapped the table twice with impatience: "Xue Xiao—"

The young emperor is now systematically reclaiming power, and the real feeling of having absolute power and the power to command is gradually giving rise to the solemnity and sternness in his voice.

"I told you before that you are free to raise any objections."

Emperor Yongping's pent-up anger, like water gradually rising from a mountain gorge, said: "If you are dissatisfied with my bestowing a posthumous title upon Jing'an and allowing her to be laid to rest, you may raise your objections. Why wait here for me?"

Xue Xiao knelt on one knee in the hall, his strong back like a continuous mountain range, his eyes lowered: "If I were to speak, would you condemn the deceased Jing'an and drag her out of her coffin to whip her corpse?"

Emperor Yongping was momentarily speechless, his tall, thin figure leaning against the table, filled with melancholy: "Why do you care so much about your posthumous reputation and your writings?"

"If one does not care about one's posthumous reputation, why should a sage fear the purge of Jing'an?"

Xue Xiao pressed on, "Jing'an has spent her life oppressing loyal ministers, neglecting the common people, coveting the foundation of the nation, and abusing her power. She has committed countless evil deeds. Why should she be granted a posthumous title? Why should she be allowed a proper burial? Why should her wrongdoings be forgotten?"

Although Xue Xiao was kneeling, his voice was like thunder, each word like a heavy hammer striking the ground: "Your Majesty! Your humble servant has believed in you, respected you, and followed you for fourteen years! Jing An is the culprit who killed my birth mother and harmed my maternal family. I, Xue Qishu, will avenge this crime even if it means my death!"

"Even if it's against the Emperor's will?!" Emperor Yongping raised his voice.

“Even if it goes against the Emperor’s will!” Xue Qishu declared decisively!
The hall was instantly plunged into boundless silence.

At some point, Xue Qishu's choked voice finally rang out: "And those children."

"If the sun never rises again, for thousands of lifetimes to come, one will be imprisoned underground—never to be reincarnated."