chapter 25
The one who ultimately settled the case with a decisive verdict was Yan Zhan, who had been appointed as a temporary coroner by the Dali Temple Minister.
Yan Zhan had studied under a renowned physician since childhood, traveled south to treat floods, and north to heal the sick-a remarkable man.
It was said that he had just returned to the palace and was immediately entrusted with this important task. He didn’t even have time to remove his cloak before hurrying into the main hall to investigate the suspicious case.
When the trial reached an impasse, Yan Zhan happened to step out from the main hall and presented the results of the autopsy.
The firelight illuminated his pale yellow cloak. I couldn’t see his face beneath the brim of his hat, but I remember his voice, clear and cold as ice striking jade:
“…Death was caused by excessive blood loss, with the only wound located on the abdomen. The shape of the weapon matches the wound…”
The Dali Temple Minister hesitated to speak, but Yan Zhan said, “As for whether it was suicide or homicide, my knowledge is limited and I cannot make a judgment. I beg your pardon.”
Yan Qing suddenly stood up, about to argue, but was silenced by Yan Zhan’s next words:
“There is one more thing.” He raised his hand to signal the Government Soldiers to present the evidence, and spoke slowly: “Inside the deceased’s shoe, I found a suicide note.”
Thousands of words, written in Madam’s tone, accusing Yan Qing and Wen Mu of their misdeeds.
Delicate handwriting densely filled the white paper, every detail vividly depicted, leaving all who heard it shocked and horrified.
Yan Qing, who had collapsed to the ground, stared blankly for a long time before shakily getting to his feet.
Knowing he had lost everyone’s trust, he laughed bitterly: “Heaven sees all that man does. Yan Ci, aren’t you afraid? You will face retribution!”
“If there is any falsehood,” Yan Ci stood firm and swore to the heavens, “may lightning strike me down.”
A thunderclap struck! Blinding daylight crashed to earth, and in an instant, wind and rain swept through. The palace attendants rushed to clear tables, escort prisoners, and shelter from the rain, creating chaos. Scattered shoes trampled the flowerbeds, stems and leaves bent and plunged into puddles, a scene of utter misery.
Yan Qing and Yan Ci were both taken to prison, Yan Qing’s curses fading away along with the three large tables carried out of Huai Ci Palace.
Inside Huai Ci Palace, the ground was covered with pale purple petals and sticky sap.
These were Madam’s favorite flowers. I crouched down to pick up the tiny petals, gathering them in my skirt to take them under the eaves for shelter from the rain.
I was not on duty this morning and had plenty of time to collect flowers, avoid the rain, and catch up on sleep.
On my third trip, no rain fell on my head. I looked up and saw Yan Zhan lifting his cloak to shield me from the rain.
“Thank you,” I gestured to him, “but I’m already soaked.”
We sheltered from the rain beneath the yellow tiles. Raindrops fell from the eaves like beads, each transparent drop reflecting Yan Zhan’s face.
His brows and eyes were clear and sharp, his pupils jet-black, and when he lowered his gaze, there was a kind of compassionate beauty.
I had heard Momo praise Yan Zhan: lofty as a mountain, broad as a road. The towering mountain inspires awe, the wide road welcomes travelers.
She said Yan Zhan was the mountain, Yan Zhan was the road.
Palace attendants came and went. Yan Zhan removed his cloak, revealing a jade-colored robe with narrow sleeves, and said to me, “Open your mouth, let me check your throat.”
Yan Zhan didn’t have a bamboo spatula, so he broke off a flower stem and used it to press down my tongue.
After a moment, he withdrew the flower stem, bringing out a strand of saliva as fine as silver thread: “It’s too late, your throat has been scorched.”
Knowing I had been beaten, he wrote me a prescription and then left.
I loosened my grip on my skirt and unfolded the prescription. There were no words, only a drawing of a stool. Wait.