Chapter One: An Earnest Plea for Justice

The crisp air of autumn carried the scent of ripening fruit. Lord Yan, the Inspector of Henan Circuit, had come to Bianzhou to assess the conduct of local officials. Upon hearing of a particular case, he summoned the accused—Di Ying.

Nineteen-year-old Di Ying, shackled in chains and manacles, his hair disheveled and his prison garb filthy, was escorted by constables, step by step, into the main hall. His posture was upright and resolute; facing the constables’ threatening batons, the assembled officials of various ranks, and the presiding judge at the head of the hall, he remained unafraid.

His hands bound, he brought them together as best he could and performed a respectful salute, his voice clear and bright. “I am your humble subordinate, Di Ying, Assistant Judge of Bianzhou, here to pay my respects, my lord.”

Having finished his salute, he straightened and looked directly between the brows of the presiding official. Lord Yan let out a soft “hmm” in his heart, sat up straighter, and released the full weight of his authority, his brow furrowed and his gaze bearing down on Di Ying.

“You are a disgraced official; how dare you address yourself as a subordinate?” he demanded.

“Your words are mistaken, my lord,” Di Ying replied, calm in the face of such pressure and the harsh interrogation. He clasped his fists and said, “Judgment must be based on evidence; without proof, how can I be condemned as a criminal?”

Lord Yan leaned back in his chair, a trace of a smile flickering in his eyes. He, too, sensed something amiss with this case—hence his decision to personally interrogate the accused. Seeing Di Ying’s clear, phoenix-like eyes and upright demeanor, he became even more certain that there was something suspicious in the matter.

“If you believe yourself falsely accused, tell me the details of the case,” Lord Yan said, waving his hand to signal the constables to remove Di Ying’s restraints.

At the end of the hall sat Judge Cao, who, upon seeing this, grew anxious, but a stern glance from Lord Yan froze him in place, unable to move. His superior, Magistrate Liu, was also uneasy. Judge Cao was a relative whom he had recruited; when the case first broke, he instinctively listened to Cao’s account and had Di Ying thrown into prison, disregarding his insignificance.

There had been no trial, no questioning.

Now, he sensed that things had taken a turn for the worse.

Di Ying, meanwhile, was invigorated. Having been falsely accused and imprisoned, he had been waiting for this moment—the chance to plead his case openly before the court, to clear his name.

He believed that regardless of the officials’ integrity, as long as he was given the opportunity to speak, no one would dare condemn him to death and leave him without vindication before so many witnesses.

“My lord, before I begin my appeal, I ask that you send your own trusted subordinates to summon the manager, Physician Liu, and the apprentices of ‘Ji Huai Apothecary’ as well as the complainant, Wang Dashun, to the court.”

Lord Yan’s eyes flickered at these words. He thought to himself: This young man is clever. To prevent interference, he specifically requested that trustworthy people bring in the witnesses. This was also a subtle warning to those involved that the case implicated certain officials present, and a reminder not to act rashly, lest they disrespect the presiding judge.

Understanding these layers, Lord Yan’s fingers twitched slightly. In his old age, apart from painting and craftsmanship, his greatest desire was to discover talents for the imperial court. Yet, despite traveling far and wide, none had ever caught his eye.

Now, encountering the young Di Ying, he suddenly felt the urge to immortalize him in a portrait.

But first...

He would see just how capable this youth truly was.

Lord Yan turned his head and whispered a few instructions to the captain of his guard behind him. The captain received his orders and left.

Di Ying watched calmly, and only then continued his account.

“Twelve days ago—on the seventh day of the ninth month, at the third quarter of the morning—a young woman carrying a six-month-old baby boy came to ‘Ji Huai Apothecary’ seeking treatment for the child.

I do not know how long it had been since she arrived, but the child, suffering from a high fever, was already flushed red, his lips blue and purple, his eyes bloodshot, and his skin cracked. He was convulsing.

Yet because the young mother could not pay, Physician Liu, despite seeing the dire condition, refused to treat the child and even told her to place the baby on the ground.

I happened to be passing by, and anger surged in my chest. Without stopping to argue with Liu, I rushed forward to rescue the infant.”

At this point, Di Ying’s eyes were bloodshot. He clenched his fists, his grief overwhelming. “Though I am an official of criminal cases, I have studied medicine since childhood and am confident in treating such emergencies.

But I was forcibly thrown out by the apothecary’s manager, Physician Liu, and their apprentices, beaten with sticks. They even brazenly told me: ‘You’re just a minor Assistant Judge of the eighth rank—what are you? Why meddle in other people’s business?

Do you even know who owns our apothecary? You’re like a dog chasing mice—meddling in things you shouldn’t. Be careful, or you’ll lose your official hat!’

My lord, I do not understand.

I have studied diligently for over a decade, burning midnight oil to pass the imperial examinations. I wear the court’s uniform and tread the land of the empire—how can I be so insulted by these vile dogs? Is an eighth-rank Assistant Judge not an official?”

Recalling the beating and humiliation, Di Ying took a deep breath and continued, choking with emotion, “I wished to save them, but could not... The child... did not survive...

He was dragged to death—alive—because of a mere cold, a high fever! He died at the hands of these beasts!

The mother, too, was lost... Upon realizing her child had passed, she dashed her head against the doorpost of the apothecary and died…”

Di Ying’s tears finally fell. He clutched his chest, his eyes brimming with boundless sorrow and fury, staring at Judge Cao and Magistrate Liu.

“These beasts, after the deaths of mother and son, when the husband and father came to seek justice, shifted all blame onto me.

Without a proper trial, without questioning, they accused me of practicing medicine without credentials, interfering recklessly, abusing acupuncture and medicinal remedies, causing the infant’s death and the mother’s suicide, and threw me into a death cell!”

Di Ying closed his eyes, suppressing his rage, and looked once more to the presiding judge.

He spoke calmly: “If you doubt me, my lord, you may examine the wounds on my body. If I was beaten so severely, it proves the apothecary folk resented my intervention. Many on the street witnessed it and can testify.

‘Ji Huai Apothecary’ dares to beat even court officials; it has a notorious reputation among the people—an investigation will reveal the truth.”

Lord Yan nodded inwardly at Di Ying’s clear and reasoned account, greatly admiring his logic and clarity. From these words alone, he could already determine that Di Ying was indeed wronged. He also noticed that beneath Di Ying’s calm exterior, there lay an unending storm of righteous indignation against the injustice of the world.

The court was never short of officials, but always lacked those of virtue and talent, who possessed a spirit of integrity.

Lord Yan stroked his long beard, about to speak.

But unexpectedly, Judge Cao burst out, pointing at Di Ying and rebuking him, “Ignorant wretch! How dare you lie brazenly before the court?!

You claim your wounds are from beatings, but in truth, when the woman killed herself, you panicked, fled wildly, and resisted arrest—that’s when the constables had to use batons to subdue you!

On this matter, I too can find witnesses to corroborate!”