Chapter Three: A Day Will Come When All Is Made Clear

Before Liu Xi could finish his sentence, the blade of the captain of Lord Yan’s bodyguards was already pressed coldly against his neck, silencing him entirely.

Di Ying, meanwhile, paid no heed to Liu Xi’s frantic outcry. Steadily and unflinchingly, he laid out, one incident after another, the misdeeds perpetrated by Liu Xi, Cao Ji, and the others involved in these cases.

“Liu Xi, on the fifth of the third month this year, Zhao Qing from Mangda Village came to the city seeking someone to draft a petition and then vanished without a trace. Can you truly claim you had nothing to do with it?
On the sixteenth of the fourth month, three hundred acres of fertile land on the southern outskirts changed ownership overnight, and the original family disappeared. Would you dare say your hands were clean?
On the second of the fifth month, your steward beat a young scholar to death in broad daylight, and you not only sheltered the culprit but let him roam free from justice. Do you think you can still escape guilt now?
On the nineteenth of the fifth month…”

The further Di Ying went, the more his anger and grief mounted. He had only assumed his post in Bianzhou a few months ago, yet already so many such cases had reached his ears. He had quietly investigated each one, but every time, the trail of evidence was severed before it could reach the higher authorities. Yet all the clues pointed unmistakably to Liu Xi and his accomplice, Cao Ji.

Before, as a mere minor official of the eighth rank, Di Ying had been powerless. Now, with Lord Yan, reputed for his integrity, presiding, he could at last voice these accusations openly.

With each charge, Liu Xi’s resolve crumbled further. In less than a moment, he too collapsed onto the ground, as limp as Cao Ji. He knew all too well: the very people who had committed these crimes at his behest were still alive within his residence. If Lord Yan sent men to arrest them, he would have no way left to deny his guilt.

All he could do was plead.

“Lord Yan, I beg you, show mercy beyond the law! I—I was momentarily blinded by greed! I will change, I will have my servants and followers behave, no, I will personally capture the culprits, Lord Yan…”

“Hmph!”

Lord Yan looked at the sniveling, weeping figures of Liu Xi and Cao Ji, his gaze filled with nothing but disdain. Even now, they tried to shirk responsibility, as if he were a fool?

He had traversed the realm, seeking to uncover and promote men of virtue for the court, all in the hope of ridding the nation of vermin like these.

Bang!

He struck the gavel on the bench with a resounding crack and declared, “Liu Xi, Cao Ji—you are unworthy of your office! You have abused the Emperor’s grace, brought harm to the people, and endangered the city! You have disregarded human life and framed your fellow officials. Your crimes are deserving of death!”

Then Lord Yan rose and pronounced, “Take these two, lock them in the death cells, seize their possessions at once, apprehend all those involved, and three days hence at noon, execute them publicly!”

As he finished, and Liu Xi was so terrified that he lost control of his bladder right there in the hall, Lord Yan wrinkled his brow in disgust and averted his gaze.

He continued, “Judge’s assistant Di Ying, courageous and wise, unafraid of power, willing to risk himself for the people and speak on their behalf—your name is cleared, and I hereby restore you to your office!”

The words had barely left his lips when the crowd outside the court erupted in thunderous cheers.

“Lord Yan—Lord Yan the Blue Sky!”
“Wonderful, we can reclaim our land at last…”
“Father, do you see from heaven? The wicked are finally punished…”
“Master Di, our own Master Di!”
“Master Di is safe, how wonderful, how wonderful!”

Their jubilation and excitement soon gave way to solemn silence as, together, they bowed deeply toward the two magistrates and the plaque above the court that read, “Upright and Glorious.”

Di Ying stepped to the side and returned the people’s bow with a deep salute.

Lord Yan descended from the dais, looked out at the people, then back at Di Ying, and after clapping him on the shoulder, praised, “As Confucius said: ‘To observe one’s faults is to know their virtue.’ You, indeed, are a rare gem amidst the vast seas.”

Di Ying cupped his hands and bowed deeply. “My lord flatters me; I am unworthy of such praise.”

“You are most worthy, indeed!” Lord Yan laughed heartily, stroking his beard as he supported Di Ying upright.

Then he said, “Tomorrow at noon, come to the relay station and see me.”

Di Ying’s heart stirred, but his expression remained composed as he quietly replied, “Yes.”

In truth, Di Ying felt little pride at Lord Yan’s words. What moved him most was the deep gratitude from the people.

As an official, as a judge, it was his duty to unravel cases, return justice to the wronged, and bring evil to account. If he did not, how was he different from an idle drone?

Yet the people’s gratitude was overwhelming. Their expectations of their officials, perhaps, were simple: do not exploit them with corruption, do not oppress them with power, be willing to listen and help when they suffer—that was enough.

Looking out at the cheering crowd, at the faces alight with unadulterated joy and anger, Di Ying fell into contemplation.

Had he truly done all he could regarding Liu Xi and Cao Ji’s crimes? Was the resolution of his own injustice as perfect as it could have been? Must he always be so openly confrontational, wear his emotions on his sleeve, and fight evil head-on?

He pondered these questions long into the sunrise, but found no clear answers.

Still, he remembered Lord Yan’s invitation, so he washed and dressed neatly, and went to the relay station at the appointed hour.

He thought: since he could not figure this out on his own, perhaps he could ask Lord Yan, who had spent many years navigating the court.

Lord Yan was waiting for him in the rear courtyard of the relay station, beneath a golden osmanthus tree.

Earlier, Lord Yan had been speaking of Di Ying with several fellow officials.

“When I first met Di Ying,” Lord Yan said, “I saw not a trace of fear in his eyes—only composure and calm. I have never seen another so unmoved beneath my gaze. It was this courage that convinced me he is the one I have been searching for.”

The other officials all nodded in agreement, evidently sharing the sentiment.

As they spoke, Lord Yan saw Di Ying approach, and dismissed those around him. With a kindly smile, he beckoned, “Come, Huai Jie, come see this painting of mine—tell me, what do you think?”

Di Ying, whose courtesy name was Huai Jie, quickened his steps, saluted Lord Yan, and began to appreciate the painting.

It was a painting of the osmanthus tree across from them. The composition was grand and expansive, bright and open—a rare and striking work.

Yet Di Ying’s gaze flickered with subtle emotion.

Lord Yan was a high-ranking official famed for his artistry, most skilled in painting and fond of gifting his works to friends—each worth a fortune, a testament to his mastery.

But in Di Ying’s eyes, something seemed missing from this painting. It was as if the dragon lacked its finishing touch, or the plum blossoms were devoid of fragrance.

Noticing Lord Yan waiting for his opinion, Di Ying met his gaze and asked, “My lord, is there something weighing on your mind?”

Lord Yan smiled softly, stroking his beard with affection.

“I am a lover of painting,” he said. “In my heart, there are people I wish to paint and some I do not. Among those, there are very few who inspire me to paint at first sight, and you are among those rare few—someone I must depict.”

Di Ying understood at once. He bowed deeply, inhaled, and went to stand beside the golden osmanthus.

Lord Yan watched him, then returned to his desk, lifted his brush, and began to paint.

Golden osmanthus complementing a worthy man—the scent apparent even in the painting.

But this, too, was a test.

When the painting was complete, Lord Yan looked at Di Ying in earnest and posed a sharp question: “Huai Jie, what is your view of the current state of affairs? Speak to me frankly.”

Di Ying, still admiring the painting, paused.

Though the painting was finished, the colors seemed to overshadow the lines, and the scenery dwarfed the figure, making him seem insignificant…

After some careful thought, Di Ying replied with measured candor, “His Majesty has the vision and courage to welcome talent from all walks of life, yet…”

He turned the conversation, gesturing to Lord Yan’s painting. “Forgive my bluntness, my lord, but the colors in your painting are perhaps too vivid. It appears lush and vibrant, but there is a sense of confusion and blurriness.
The interwoven colors are too complex, disrupting the structure and overwhelming the composition, leaving too many shadows behind.”

Lord Yan listened, stroking his beard, and smiled. “Huai Jie, you’re rather crafty. Since I first met you, I have seen you as bold and resolute. Yet now, when it comes to weighty matters, you shrink back and only dare to speak in metaphors. Tell me—if you encountered a jarring color in your painting, what would you do? Erase it? Reinforce the lines? Start anew? Or try to harmonize it?”