Chapter 148: The Junior Preceptor's Suicide; Snow-white Lotus Roots in the New Market

During the Wu Zhou dynasty, there were numerous notorious officials. Historical records list twenty-seven famous ones among them, though including figures like Ji Xu felt somewhat unjust, as their methods were hardly comparable to the sheer brutality of the others. Men like Fu Youyi, Hou Sizi, Wan Guojun, Lai Zuxun, Wang Hongyi, and Guo Ba were infamous. While Li Wei had never heard of most of them, three names were all too familiar: Suo Yuanli, Lai Junchen, and this man, Zhou Xing. Even with limited knowledge, anyone would recognize the idiom "to invite the turtle into the jar."

Pacing back and forth, Li Wei asked with hesitation, "Where on earth did Court Official Di manage to track this man down?"

Wei Yuanzhong shared Li Wei's deep aversion to this man's notorious methods in Chang'an, assuming the Crown Prince must be displeased as well. He attempted to console him, saying, "This man's interrogation techniques are incomparably cruel."

"Indeed," Li Wei nodded involuntarily. Though it had not yet come to pass, in the future this man would stuff prisoners into giant ceramic jars and roast them just to extract confessions. The mere thought of such torture made one's legs turn to jelly. If Li Wei himself were subjected to such a fate, he would gladly forgo the physical torment and simply beg, "Just tell me what you want me to hear, I will confess to anything!" Or perhaps he would choose to bite his tongue and end it all on the spot.

Yet martial arts novels lied about that. Try biting off your tongue—out of a thousand people, not even one would actually die. Falling into the hands of men like this meant that while survival was out of the question, dying on your own terms before they allowed it was equally impossible.

"However, Your Highness, you must understand the court official's difficult position. Especially that night—if we had failed to extract confessions before the third watch, mounting a search would have been impossible. Even so, due to the fierce resistance of the estate guards and the assassins, one of our guards was killed and three or four others wounded."

"True," Li Wei said, a complex mixture of emotions swirling within him.

"This precedent has been opened only once to purge the state of such a monstrous traitor. It must never happen again."

Yet as soon as the words left his mouth, both Li Wei and Wei Yuanzhong knew the likelihood of that was slim. This case would shake the entire realm, and every single transgression would be laid bare. With this case as a precedent, brutal local officials throughout the provinces would undoubtedly emulate it. After a moment of silence, Wei Yuanzhong added, "Regardless, this treacherous minister has finally been uprooted."

With that, he let out a long sigh of relief.

Despite his usual calm, elegant, and detached demeanor, very few people truly met with his approval. Even figures like Xue Rengui and Xue Ne were, after all, mere men of martial prowess. Yet standing before Xu Jingzong, the psychological pressure had been immense.

When Di Renjie finally tracked him down to relay a message to the Eastern Palace, the sudden release of tension had made Wei Yuanzhong's limbs go limp, leaving him momentarily unable to walk.

News of this monumental case finally broke.

Almost everyone was struck dumb with astonishment, followed instantly by a crowd of officials rolling up their sleeves, cheering wildly, and leaping with joy—the general sentiment of the moment.

The old thief was finally dead. Everyone had lived in terror of him, dreading the moment Xu Jingzong might set his sights on them and sink his fangs in. And once he bit, his accusations were nine times out of ten fatal, invariably resulting in the confiscation of property and the execution of one's entire clan. Consequently, memorials flooded the court, impeaching Xu Jingzong for his countless misdeeds.

In the midst of all this, several other major events had occurred. For instance, the much-ridiculed initiative of merchants transporting grain had finally borne fruit. Some of these merchants possessed vast wealth, owning fleets of river vessels and countless carts and pack horses. Several among them had conceived a brilliant strategy: navigating upstream along the Han River and then utilizing the Ziwu Trail to transport grain directly into Guanzhong. While the costs remained steep, it was vastly more convenient than the current situation where boats ran aground on the Wei River. Others managed to find remote mountain paths through the Lüliang Mountains, diverting grain straight to Danfang and the various prefectures.

Grain supplies were still far from sufficient, and prices remained exorbitant; even with grain available, many could scarcely afford it. Nevertheless, the dire food shortage in Guanzhong was gradually easing.

Another piece of news that surfaced was the sudden death of Helan Minzhi. Additionally, Left Chancellor Jiang Ke was slated to assume the post of Grand Superintendent of Liangzhou and would soon depart. Furthermore, the Emperor was preparing to hold the grand *Da Yu* rain-supplication ritual and personally review prisoners. This was not a general amnesty; rather, Emperor Li Gao, accompanied by a retinue of officials and acting upon Li Wei's suggestions, would release prisoners whose crimes were minor, whose verdicts held questionable evidence, who had elderly parents depending on them, or whose offenses stemmed from extenuating circumstances. Their floggings would be remitted, or they would be recalled from places of exile.

Yet almost no one paid attention to these matters; everyone was entirely consumed with discussing Xu Jingzong.

Li Wei let out a long sigh. Finally, some peace and quiet. Ever since he had instructed the merchants to devise ways to transport grain into Guanzhong, the memorials impeaching him could have been stacked several people high. It was only then that he truly understood the immense difficulty of being a ruler: if you tried to find solutions, critics claimed you were disrupting institutions and undermining ritual propriety; if you sat back and did nothing, you were forced to hold the *Da Yu* ritual, and when the ritual failed to bring rain, it was once again proof of the Emperor's failings—proof that he needed to correct his flaws, practice benevolence, show reverence to the heavens, and so forth. Even if the common people starved, the blame was ultimately laid squarely at the emperor's feet.

Why did some emperors eventually turn to unbridled tyranny? Li Wei pondered this and concluded it was precisely the pressure generated by this dynamic that caused a complete imbalance in their mental state.

Yet some individuals remained level-headed. Xu Jingzong's rise and fall, when all was said and done, stemmed from those two grand imperatives within the palace, particularly the Empress's needs. Without Xu Jingzong, there would simply have been a Zhang Jingzong or a Wang Jingzong. It was just that future figures likely wouldn't have "performed as well" as Xu Jingzong.

People like Yan Liben had chosen not to submit memorials; indeed, they even opposed the other ministers doing so. Even without memorials, Xu Jingzong was already a dead man.

Imperial affection was notoriously thin, but executing one's own children was one matter, while having them destroyed by high-ranking ministers was entirely another. In the case of Helan Minzhi, the backlash had at least been framed around the deaths of his mother and sister. But toward Xu Jingzong, the imperial court had never been ungenerous. He had been granted the rare privilege of having his carriage driven directly into the palace grounds—one of only two ministers afforded that honor. Who was the other? Li Ji. And what manner of grand contributions had Li Ji made?

Prince Li Chong had been murdered by Xu Jingzong, but that had occurred in the open: he had followed the Empress's instructions, submitted false accusations, presented memorials, and obtained the Emperor's consent before executing him. The assassination at Mount Zhongnan, however, was an assault on the state itself, carrying an entirely different nature. Moreover, framing Helan Minzhi had displeased the Emperor, and slandering the Empress had displeased the Empress. If the ministers had not flooded the court with memorials demanding blood, the two sovereigns, in a fit of rage, might well have exterminated Xu Jingzong's entire clan down to the ninth generation.

However, overwhelming public outrage was not necessarily a good thing.

The struggle between loyal and corrupt ministers at court was mirrored by the ongoing contest between imperial authority and ministerial power. Without an exceptionally capable minister to assist, imperial authority would inevitably slip away—unless one possessed the peerless personnel-management skills of Li Shimin. With the officials reacting with such frenzied excitement, how were the two sovereigns supposed to feel?

Yet Xu Jingzong proved remarkably self-aware. Despite being guarded closely by imperial guards, he managed to find a moment alone, tore his garments into strips of cloth, tied them to a roof beam, and hanged himself.

By the time Di Renjie arrived in Chang'an to assist the Dali Temple in investigating the major case, he was utterly astonished upon hearing the news. Committing suicide under such circumstances was no simple feat when dozens of guards were watching day and night—yet somehow, those guards had allowed him to end his life undisturbed.

Suddenly recalling certain things Xu Jingzong had done in the past, Di Renjie prudently sealed his lips and said no more.

The common people, ignorant of the intricate court machinations, celebrated the news by setting off bamboo firecrackers all the way from Chang'an to Luoyang. It was virtually a nationwide celebration.

However, the legal proceedings were far from concluded. With so many arrests made, a mountain of illicit wrongdoings had been unearthed, meaning the trials were still ongoing...

It was a pleasantly cool autumn. Following two rounds of rain, the heat lingered, though it lacked its former oppressive strength. Mornings and evenings grew brisk, and even the moonlight began to take on a crisp, chilling edge. The stifling summer was finally drawing to a close.

Zhu Jingzze reprimanded sternly, "Yao Chuhui, I heard yesterday that you paid a visit to a pleasure house?"

"Zhu Buzhi, I merely heard that Xu Jingzong was dead, so I dragged Ximen Chong out for a few cups of wine. I wasn't the only one; many officials in the Eastern Palace drank to celebrate."

"That logic is entirely flawed! Other ministers may do so, but you certainly cannot. As the Crown Prince's trusted aides and members of his inner council, your every move affects not only your own reputations but the reputation of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince as well."

Ever since Old Zhu had "defected" to Li Wei's side, he had become a frequent visitor to the Eastern Palace—though his purpose was less about assisting and more about monitoring Li Wei's studies and personal conduct. Failing to become a mere political advisor, he had instead appointed himself a stern mentor. Furthermore, his temperament was so uncompromisingly upright that even Wei Yuanzhong privately admitted he fell short of him. The crucial point was that Zhu Jingzze didn't just preach; he lived by his own standard, remaining impeccably upright without a single flaw to be picked at. Even Wei Yuanzhong was utterly speechless in his presence, let alone Li Wei.

When Emperor Gaozong heard of this back in the main palace, he was greatly pleased and bestowed three hundred bolts of silk and two hundred thousand strings of cash upon Zhu, along with a residential estate. Though the estate was modest, it was a supreme honor. Yet this stubbornly upright Comrade Zhu, brimming with righteous pride, had declared, "I serve merely by the Emperor's command to assist the Crown Prince in correcting his faults; it is my fundamental duty. As for the estate, I accept it, but the money and silk shall be used entirely to aid the refugees stranded in Luoyang."

With him being this impeccably righteous, even Wei Yuanzhong treated him with utmost reverence whenever they met.

In truth, Li Wei wasn't overly rigid about such matters. Yao Chong was in the prime of his youth, at an age when youthful hormones naturally stirred. Considering he hadn't indulged excessively in wine and women, he was already doing quite well. Therefore, Li Wei simply asked, "Yao Jun, when do you plan to marry?"

"Your subject wishes to wait until after the spring imperial examinations."

It seemed he shared the exact same sentiment as Ximen Chong.

Li Wei tapped his desk and murmured thoughtfully, "You gentlemen toil day and night for my sake, and I have nothing with which to repay you. Coincidentally, my imperial father recently transferred a batch of female entertainers from the Inner Academy of Music into the palace—all of them fine young women. I intend to bestow several of them upon you as a reward."

With a wave of his hand, he instructed Chief Eunuch Jin to lead six young maidens into the hall. One for each man. It was hardly an injustice to them; even Di Renjie, the eldest among them, was only a little over forty. At the very least, it beat withering away in the Eastern Palace for a lifetime. Unexpectedly, Ximen Chong stepped forward and said, "Your Highness, this must not be done."

"What? Is your young bride-to-be going to be jealous?"

Though Ximen Chong had not yet passed the civil service examinations, the mere fact that he served by the Crown Prince's side had caused his former landlord in Shangzhou to drastically change his attitude. The family had built a new house for Ximen Chong's relatives and frequently sent letters, clothes, and money to support him.

"That is not the reason, Your subject is merely fortunate enough to attend upon Your Highness and manage day-to-day affairs; to add another person to my household would violate propriety..." He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say more, given his deeply humble background.

"This is my gift to you. Since they originate from the Eastern Palace, I have no desire to see them cast out and treated unjustly by your households. Therefore, I shall provide a sum of money and silk to serve as their dowry." Though his funds had taken a hit—having spent five thousand strings of cash—over the past few months, his workshops had indeed generated a substantial profit.

"This..."

Li Wei lowered his voice. "This is not merely for your benefit. These women were meticulously selected by the eunuchs from the Inner Academy of Music. Keeping them in the Eastern Palace would largely ruin their lives. My bestowing them upon you is both an expression of gratitude and a chance to give them a brighter future."

Zhu Jingzze remained unpersuaded, adding, "Even so..."

"Zhu Buzhi, I know your character is unyielding, but if it truly displeases you, you may select a respectable commoner's family to marry them off into, and I will not interfere. Do not speak of this matter further."

"Your Highness possesses true benevolence."

Ah, earning even a word of praise from Comrade Zhu was no easy feat.

At that moment, several eunuchs carried in a large wicker basket filled with tender lotus roots. Having been harvested long ago, their skins had turned a brownish hue. Furthermore, they had not yet fully formed; strictly speaking, they were merely thick, plump lotus shoots. One of the eunuchs explained, "These are tender lotus roots sent as tribute from the Jiangnan region. Upon hearing of their arrival, the Empress instructed the inner palace to send a portion to the Eastern Palace to taste."

Luoyang produced lotus roots as well, but they were even less developed. Occasionally, a slightly uniform batch would appear for sale in the North or East Market, referred to by the common folk as "snow lotus roots" and prized as an extreme luxury. Yet in terms of thickness and size, they still fell short of these tribute roots. Despite their slightly browned exterior, once peeled, they remained a seasonal delicacy.

Li Wei replied offhandedly, "Convey my thanks to the Empress."

Once the eunuchs had departed, he turned to Chief Eunuch Jin and instructed, "Divide these up. Share some among the eunuchs and palace maids of the Eastern Palace so they can have a fresh taste. Also, send a portion to Di Renjie's family, and Zhu Buzhi, you and the others should take some back with you as well."

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck him, and certain thoughts began to crystallize. The first was that with Xu Jingzong dead, his mother would likely harbor deep resentment toward him—so why had she sent lotus roots to him? Pondering this carefully, he called out, "Bi'er, Wan'er, bring me brush and ink."

He began to write. The letters were addressed to Di Renjie, Dai Zhude, and the others. Their contents were largely identical: arguing that since the principal culprit Xu Jingzong had already been executed and Heaven itself cherished all living things, the ongoing investigation should be handled leniently and brought to a close as quickly as possible to prevent further widespread entanglements. He urged the officials in Chang'an overseeing the Xu Jingzong case to exercise leniency and settle the matter swiftly.