Chapter Forty-Six: Song Wen and Yao Cong

Di Ying left quickly. He had inquired about Eunuch Su. According to many, Eunuch Su was a man impervious to persuasion, without personal bias or preference, devoted solely to serving the Emperor. Yet, after his own observations, Di Ying felt: Eunuch Su was in truth a man who cared deeply for the Dynasty and for the Emperor’s well-being.

For Di Ying, that was enough.

It is often said that monarchs fall prey to the wiles of cunning courtiers, which shows how crucial are the temperaments and preferences of those who attend the throne day and night. The Empress had Eunuch Su at her side—a blessing for Her Majesty, for the ministers, for the realm.

And for Di Ying himself.

Di Ying reckoned that the only reason his head remained firmly upon his shoulders, despite having made use of Her Majesty several times, was thanks to Eunuch Su’s presence.

He wondered how he might repay Eunuch Su’s favor. Just as he stepped through the palace doors, he saw Wu Desen and Song Wen still kneeling outside.

Song Wen had come in right after Wu Desen to confess his guilt. After all, with the chief official arriving, he had no reason to avoid the matter.

When Di Ying emerged, Song Wen’s eye twitched. He had overheard the conversation from inside the hall, and knew that Di Ying had used him—and exposed his faults.

The Qian Fu case had passed through Song Wen’s hands as well. If Her Majesty meant to hold every official involved accountable, Song Wen felt his official cap was as good as lost.

But seeing Di Ying, Song Wen was unsure whether to hate him or feel something else.

That case hadn’t been unclear to him—someone had “spoken” to him. Everyone knew Qian Fu would have to bear the blame. Who could have guessed that, just as everyone had let the matter slip into obscurity, Di Ying would dig it up again—and so brilliantly?

Song Wen, facing disaster, privately wanted to applaud Di Ying.

He was no corrupt official, but pressures from all sides had forced him to compromise again and again. Suddenly, he felt utterly stifled.

Conscience, if suppressed for too long, is easily lost.

And Di Ying—in his cunning during the investigation, his frankness before Her Majesty, his compassion for the victims—all of it stirred admiration in Song Wen.

He knew he could not escape now. Let fate take its course.

Sure enough, he heard Her Majesty summon him into the hall.

Song Wen rose, staggered a step, steadied himself, glanced at Di Ying, then crossed the high threshold into the grand hall.

Di Ying understood that look: Song Wen was about to spill everything.

He smiled faintly, ignored the furious glare from Wu Desen, and walked away with a leisurely air.

Once outside the palace, he saw Peng Liang.

Earlier, Peng Liang had been ejected from the palace by the guards for causing a disturbance. Seeing his master come out, Peng Liang approached and asked quietly, “Did it go well?”

Di Ying smiled and kept walking.

Peng Liang watched that smile, blinked his bright eyes, the corners of his mouth curving as he lifted a leg to follow.

They hadn’t gone far when squads of palace guards, mounted and galloping, streamed from the imperial city in all directions. At the head of each squad, a man held aloft a scarlet-yellow imperial decree.

Di Ying, on seeing this, was about to flash a grin when someone grabbed his sleeve.

“Master Di, where’s my horse?”

It was Yao Cong, the deputy of the Imperial Stables, responsible for livestock and equine management.

Yao Cong, thirty years old, was as lean as his personality: crisp and efficient. He rushed up at once, clutching Di Ying’s sleeve to demand the return of the two horses lent to him.

Di Ying, recognizing Yao Cong, hooked an arm around his neck in return.

Leading him forward, Di Ying laughed and replied, “No rush, let’s have a drink first, my treat. As for those two horses, someone will find them and bring them back. The Imperial Stables’ mark is on their rumps—who would dare keep them?”

“What? You lost the horses?”

Yao Cong bristled, shook off Di Ying’s arm, and pressed for answers.

Di Ying shrugged, spread his hands, and nonchalantly replied, “Yes. You saw it yourself—I only have Guard Peng with me, both of us went into the palace. What could we do with the horses? Left them outside, and they ran off on their own.”

Yao Cong was speechless.

He pointed at Di Ying, his chest heaving with rage.

Di Ying just chuckled, looping an arm around Yao Cong’s shoulder again, coaxing, “Come on, it’s freezing out—let’s go for a drink. I hear ‘Drunken Tea House’ has good wine, show me the way.”

At this, Yao Cong abruptly stopped being angry.

He eyed Di Ying, squinted, and asked, “So you were waiting for me here? How did you know, as someone new to the capital, that I like the wine there?”

Yao Cong didn’t even realize he’d been swept away by Di Ying’s brotherly manner, and had started using familiar pronouns.

Di Ying, hearing the question, raised his thick brows and admitted with a laugh, “Of course I had to learn your preferences, after all, I lost your horses. I ought to please you, shouldn’t I?”

Yao Cong sighed, “You’re something else!”

Di Ying replied, “Shall we go?”

Yao Cong said, “Let’s go! But listen, whether those horses are returned or not, you’re never borrowing from me again.”

Di Ying said, “Fine, I won’t borrow anymore. I’ll buy them, how’s that?”

Yao Cong retorted, “Go buy them from Her Majesty!”

Di Ying protested, “Buy them? That’s robbery, you’re asking me to seize them outright.”

Yao Cong said, “You said it yourself.”

Di Ying was speechless.

So the two bantered like brothers, heading toward the ‘Drunken Tea House.’

Peng Liang followed, amused but puzzled—his master never drank, so what was this? Was he planning to trick Yao Cong?

Sure enough...

After several rounds, faces flushed and ears warm, deep in conversation.

Di Ying suddenly sighed, face full of sorrow, and said, “Brother Yuan, I envy you.”

Yao Cong, a bit tipsy, shook his head and looked at Di Ying in confusion.

Di Ying continued, “You come from a family of officials, never wanting for food or clothing, indulging in leisure as you please. But me? I was born a farmer. My whole family tightened their belts to put me through school, and I finally became an official. But we’re poor. When Her Majesty pointed and said, ‘I grant you a residence,’ I had a mansion. But all dozen of my family moved in, and we couldn’t even furnish it. As for your horses, I truly didn’t mean to borrow them, much less lose them, because I can’t afford to compensate you.

Do you know where I got the travel expenses for this investigation?

Ha! I went straight to Her Majesty to ask.

The scolding I got—let me tell you, it was brutal. How many officials reach a point like mine?

Give me a little time, once I get my monthly salary, I’ll pay you back for the horses, all right?”