Chapter 7: Eating the Last Meal

The morning court session had been such a chaotic affair that it was inevitable the officials would be buzzing with discussion on their way out.

Yan Kuang, however, maintained his usual composure, walking toward the palace gate alone with his ceremonial tablet in hand. Han Shaozhen, after offering a few perfunctory words to others, ignored the need to avoid suspicion and hurried to catch up with him.

"Commander Yan, slow down, please... wait for this old man!"

Clutching his own tablet, Han Shaozhen reached Yan Kuang’s side and lowered his voice. "Kuang’er, you did well this time!"

Yan Kuang did not respond; in fact, he slightly quickened his pace.

Seeing that he wouldn't take the bait, Han Shaozhen was not offended. He remained smiling and asked, "How are your wounds, Commander?"

Because Han Shaozhen had leaned in so close, other officials began to gather around them.

Han Shaozhen was genuinely curious, so he asked again, "Commander Yan? The wounds—how are they?"

Though Yan Kuang was loath to respond, he chose to give the man face in front of the others. He replied coldly, "Do not trouble yourself, Minister Han. I have already recovered."

"Good...! That is good, truly good..."

Han Shaozhen exhaled a long breath, his expression instantly relaxing as if, were he not inside the imperial palace, he would have set off firecrackers to celebrate.

"Minister Han." Yan Kuang suddenly stopped. Han Shaozhen was clearly caught off guard but came to a halt as well.

Yan Kuang’s gaze was heavy and sincere as he said, "I will be submitting my resignation in a few days to leave my post and depart the capital."

"What?"

Resign and leave the capital? Had he heard correctly? The smile on Han Shaozhen’s face froze instantly. Once he confirmed he hadn't misheard, he thought to himself that this brat was having another episode of madness! He prayed no one else had heard him!

Yan Kuang seemed to see right through his thoughts and raised his voice—

"Minister Han, I will be submitting my resignation to His Majesty in a few days to leave my post and depart the capital."

"Kuang... Commander Yan, do not talk nonsense!"

Han Shaozhen’s heart, which had just settled, was now hoisted ten stories high. The rope had snapped, and his heart had come crashing down with a thud!

It was shattered into pieces.

Han Shaozhen thought to himself: We are in the imperial palace! How can he say whatever he wants? This "nemesis" of his was truly courting death!

Han Shaozhen gripped his sleeves tight, took a deep breath to steady his emotions, and spoke—but not to Yan Kuang.

With a spring-like smile, he looked around at the still-shocked officials and laughed awkwardly. "Hahahaha...! Look, just look! We old folks are always so serious and rigid, making life bitter for ourselves and for others... It is the young ones like Commander Yan who truly understand what it means to be relaxed and free! A little banter now and then makes life less dull, does it not?"

The officials, regaining their senses, hurriedly agreed and offered their praises. Yan Kuang frowned, about to speak, but Han Shaozhen caught it instantly.

Terrified that Yan Kuang would utter more "nonsense," Han Shaozhen made a split-second decision.

With a sudden cry of "Ouch!" the purple-robed elder, the current Prime Minister, tripped over his own feet and collapsed right in front of the palace gate.

Yan Kuang couldn't help but roll his eyes: "..."

Surrounded by the panicked crowd of officials, Yan Kuang ended up half-carrying and half-supporting Han Shaozhen all the way to the carriage waiting outside the palace.

***

"Minister Han, I take my leave." After helping Han Shaozhen into the carriage, Yan Kuang turned to depart.

It seemed the man called out "Commander Yan" again, but Yan Kuang did not look back.

Walking into a deserted area, Yan Kuang slowed his pace slightly. He felt raindrops landing on his face. Lifting his hand, he realized the sky had indeed begun to drizzle.

Autumn was approaching; it was common for the weather to be unpredictable.

By the time he returned to the Secretariat of the Imperial Guard, his red robes were stained a deep crimson by the fine rain.

Cheng Ruyi was still asleep. Perhaps the scholar's constitution was too frail, worn down by wounds, poison, and repeated shocks; he was simply exhausted.

Yes, truly exhausted. Yan Kuang felt a sense of empathy and sighed softly.

He unlocked the shackles on Cheng Ruyi’s wrists, removed his outer robe to let it air out, and began tidying up the desk.

What needed to be thrown away, he discarded; what needed to be packed, he bundled.

Perhaps the noise was too loud, for Cheng Ruyi was startled awake, rubbing his eyes in a daze.

"Hm...?" Cheng Ruyi realized with a start that his hands were free. Looking up through the dim light, he saw it was Yan Kuang who had returned.

"Yan... Lord Yan?" Cheng Ruyi tried to climb out of bed.

He found it miraculous.

Previously, after being whipped and having his "shrimp thread" (tendons) picked by Yan Kuang, even the slightest movement had been agony. He had suffered from a high fever, feeling as though his very soul had been half-burned away. Although Yan Kuang had applied medicine, the later poisoning had been silent and deadly, almost taking his life.

Yet, he didn't know what this "King of Hell" had fed him, but now, Cheng Ruyi only felt his wounds tightening; they didn't hurt unless touched. The fever was gone, and upon waking, he even felt somewhat refreshed.

"Lord Yan?" Cheng Ruyi adjusted the oversized robe belonging to Yan Kuang that he was wearing and carefully approached him.

Seeing him actually packing, Cheng Ruyi suddenly remembered what Yan Kuang had once told him: "One day, sooner or later, I will leave this place."

Could it be that he was truly planning to leave? Cheng Ruyi’s heart was filled with doubt and curiosity.

"There are cakes and congee on the table; eat when you wake up," Yan Kuang said without looking up, continuing to organize his things.

Cheng Ruyi turned to look; there was indeed a food box on the table. He had slept for so long and was indeed hungry, but after taking two steps wrapped in the robe, he turned back.

Cheng Ruyi hesitated. "Lord Yan... when you raided my home, did you... did you bring back any clothes I could actually wear?"

"No." Yan Kuang looked up, his eyes landing on Cheng Ruyi’s pitiful appearance, still huddled in the robe he had given him.

The difference in their build was significant. Wrapped in the robe, Cheng Ruyi looked like a tiny chick tucked inside an eggshell.

"Then, Lord Yan... surely you could at least give a prisoner some clothes to wear?" Cheng Ruyi thought to himself that even if he were heading to the executioner's block, he shouldn't be dressed so shabbily.

Yan Kuang didn't respond, but he set down his work, opened a cabinet, and from a few dark-colored garments, chose a dark cyan cross-collar robe, tossing it onto the bed. "Wear that."

"Ah, thank you, thank you, Lord Yan..." Cheng Ruyi scrambled to pick up the clothes and scanned the room before choosing to change behind a screen.

Yan Kuang only heard him grunting "ouch" repeatedly behind the screen. After a long while, Cheng Ruyi finally walked out, moving slowly.

***

"Lord Yan, are you... are you really leaving?" Cheng Ruyi sat down and opened the food box, finding crispy cakes, steamed buns, and a bowl of congee.

Yan Kuang seemed unwilling to answer, bluntly changing the subject. "Today I presented the testimony. Du Hai, the Vice Minister of War, fought with Yuan Shanqi in public. But Yuan Shanqi denied everything vehemently, even going so far as to strike his head against a pillar to prove his innocence."

"What..." Cheng Ruyi grew excited upon hearing this. "You mean he was beaten? Du Hai hit him? Why..."

Before Cheng Ruyi could finish, he realized the implication. He looked at Yan Kuang in disbelief, stuttering, "Wait, you... how did you know?"

Yan Kuang was packing his belongings, his gaze indifferent as he looked up. "I investigated it long ago. Someone gave false testimony regarding the hiring of the assassin. It was not your doing, but rather had some inextricable connection to the Yuan estate. Since you denied it was Miss Yuan’s doing, it must have been Yuan Shanqi himself."

"Lord Yan’s judgment is divine... I am in awe..." Cheng Ruyi praised him sincerely, shaking his head with a bitter smile. Worried, he hurriedly asked, "But... Miss Yuan won't be in trouble, will she?"

"You are a mud bodhisattva crossing the river, yet you still have the heart to worry about others?" Yan Kuang retorted. "Could it be that there truly are feelings between you two?"

"No, no, no..." Cheng Ruyi shook his head earnestly. "Cheng was once harassed by Yuan Shanqi and forced to kneel in the scorching sun outside the Yuan estate; it was she who saved me... I have only met Miss Yuan that once. There has never been any 'affection' as you suggest, and I ask you not to mention it again, lest you ruin the reputation of an innocent woman."

Yan Kuang nodded, accepting the correction easily. "His Majesty chose to believe him and will pursue the matter no further. The Yuan family will be fine, and naturally, she will be too."

Cheng Ruyi was stunned for a moment, then burst into a laugh. As he laughed, his eyes shimmered with light. It was true that the Yuan girl had been kind to him and he didn't want to implicate his benefactor, but he truly had hoped Yuan Shanqi would suffer.

But now, even a major crime was dismissed with a light, "no further investigation"...

Yan Kuang watched from the side, feeling an inexplicable sense of discomfort. Just as he wanted to say something, he heard Cheng Ruyi let out a cold, disdainful snort.

He smiled. "Forget it. I never truly expected to pull him down. You might as well have pinned all the crimes on me... He is a pillar of two dynasties, the Censor-in-Chief, and the Empress’s own uncle. He has been in office for years, his influence deeply rooted... For me to fight him is like a mayfly trying to shake a tree..."

Yan Kuang continued packing, unable to resist interjecting: "You are no mayfly. If you were, he wouldn't have gone to such lengths to poison you."

"I knew it... It must have been that old curmudgeon who wanted my life." Hearing about the poisoning, Cheng Ruyi was not surprised. The matters he was involved in only concerned the Yuan and Han families. Han Shaozhen had come on the first day; he had seen Yan Kuang, yet he hadn't let this "King of Hell" kill him directly.

That left only Yuan Shanqi.

Cheng Ruyi pondered further: "But Lord Yan, how did you know? Did you get a confession?"

"I recognize that poison." Yan Kuang’s expression stalled for a moment before he said frankly, "No confession needed. When I took your pulse, I knew it was his doing. Although the Yuan girl came to cause a scene that day, I could see she was reluctant. I fear Yuan Shanqi sent her to distract me so that his informant could secretly add the poison to your food."

Cheng Ruyi was stunned, his hand holding the chopsticks pausing. Yet, he still picked up half a cake and put it into his mouth.

"So... Lord Yan, are you Yuan Shanqi's man? But why did Minister Han come to see you too?" Cheng Ruyi asked after swallowing the cake and taking a sip of congee.

Yan Kuang’s expression turned cold. "I have said it before: no one can bribe me. Since the Secretariat of the Imperial Guard answers to His Majesty, I only take orders from His Majesty."

"Oh, I see..." Cheng Ruyi thought he understood, but now he was confused again. He couldn't be bothered to think about it, though; he was surely a dead man walking, so what did anything else matter to him?

Seeing Yan Kuang’s displeased expression, Cheng Ruyi felt flustered under his cold gaze and quickly changed the subject. "Those old accounts of mine—the patricide and matricide—those were also dug up by Yuan Shanqi, right? Only by proving I am a piece of scum, a monster worse than a pig or a dog, would my testimony become worthless..."

"Yes." Yan Kuang gave a low response, then suddenly leaned in, curious. "So, did you really kill your father and mother?"

Yan Kuang’s voice was deep and resonant, making Cheng Ruyi feel a tingle through his whole body; he couldn't help but tremble.

The question hit him where it hurt, and it sent a chill down his spine. But he managed a forced, polite smile. "That is a long story. However, I think... I probably do not have enough time left to tell it to you, Lord Yan."