Chapter 6

A quarter of an hour later, most of the officials had cleared out of the vast government office, leaving only Luo Jiao, the woman in red, and the blue-robed official.

Luo Jiao lounged insolently at the bottom of the hall while the woman in red sat smiling above on the raised dais, Zhou Zhaoyue standing at her side without a word.

Oblivious to the two women’s grand theatrics, Luo Jiao merely lifted her eyelids with a listless air.

“I didn’t want any of this. I just swaggered around the courtroom a bit, and somehow it stirred up so much attention from the Eldest Princess of the Zhouqi Dynasty that she has to dismiss every clerk in the building just to interrogate me alone.”

“Mm.” The Eldest Princess played along, teasing. “Stumbling into a string of shocking, bloody murders, yet dodging all blame in the assessments, sending the Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review into a rage… I must say, you are truly a marvel, honored guest.”

Luo Jiao snapped, “How many times do I have to say it? I didn’t kill anyone.”

The Princess smiled. “And that is precisely the crux of the matter.”

“In these cases, every victim died in a strange manner. Looking only at the surface, it’s nothing more than mutual slaughter. It has nothing to do with you.” She tapped a finger against the desk. “Because you and I both know these two cases cannot be judged by conventional means… can they?”

“If not by convention, then by what?” Luo Jiao gave a laugh. “Gut feeling?”

The Princess’s eyes narrowed.

She studied Luo Jiao in silence for a long moment, waiting until the smile faded from her eyes before speaking slowly. “Who are you?”

Luo Jiao said, “Xu Liangdi.”

The Princess gave a soft laugh. When she spoke again, her tone was even, without a trace of doubt. “I know you are not Xu Liangdi.”

“Ha. If I’m not Xu Liangdi, then who is? You?”

Luo Jiao talked back with her mouth, but inside, alarm bells were already ringing furiously. This Eldest Princess has thin spiritual qi. She’s nothing but a mortal, not a cultivator, let alone a spellcaster. So how is she so perceptive?

Revealing her true identity in a place like this would bring nothing but harm. Thankfully, this Eldest Princess had never been close with the real Xu Liangdi, so as long as Luo Jiao behaved in a way that fit common sense and reason, even if it didn’t match Xu Liangdi’s actual temperament, nothing could go too far wrong.

So Luo Jiao lifted her chin and said with exasperation, “The Eldest Princess of the Zhouqi Dynasty has learned to call a deer a horse, has she?”

“You!” Zhou Zhaoyue slammed a hand on the desk, about to erupt, but the Princess stopped her.

“Enough, A-Yue.” The Princess smiled, her gaze settling on Luo Jiao as if trying to see straight through her.

Luo Jiao wasn’t the least bit afraid.

Who was Luo Jiao? She was confident these mortals, who knew nothing of soul arts, could never see through her.

There was only one problem. Her strength had yet to recover, and she was dragging along Xu Liangdi’s sickly body. If it came to a fight, she would lose for certain.

So she really couldn’t afford to play hardball.

Admitting anything would be reckless; bickering too boldly would be arrogant. All she could do was flatly deny everything.

The Princess studied her, the smile slowly draining from her face.

In the end, she sighed. “Fine then. ‘Xu Liangdi.'” She chose to let the matter of Luo Jiao’s identity drop, adding only, “You know, that is not a good name.”

Seeing that she truly seemed to have no intention of pressing the identity question further, Luo Jiao let out half a breath of relief and said offhandedly, “If the name’s no good, just change it.”

The Princess asked, “And how would you change it?”

Luo Jiao stared at her for a moment, then answered honestly. “No ideas. I’ll decide when one comes to me.”

The Princess asked again, “Your parents treated you so terribly. Do you still want to keep the surname Xu?”

Luo Jiao assumed it was a trap and feigned hesitation. “What do you mean?”

The Princess only watched her with a teasing look and gave no answer.

Here we go again, Luo Jiao thought. In barely a quarter of an hour, this Princess has fixed me with that probing stare countless times. It’s giving me chills.

Thankfully, the Princess didn’t keep up that half-smiling expression for long. She straightened in her seat and said with a smile, “What I mean is, you may take my surname. Zhou.”

At those words, not only Luo Jiao was stunned. Zhou Zhaoyue, too, drew in a sharp breath.

Even having slept for a hundred years, with little involvement in court affairs in her past life, Luo Jiao still understood what taking the surname Zhou meant: from then on, she would enjoy the protection of the Princess’s Manor. And in return, she would owe it her service.

Luo Jiao had no idea who else the Princess had made similar offers to, but one thing was certain. The surname Zhou was definitely not being handed out wholesale!

Staggered by this dramatic reversal, she couldn’t help clicking her tongue. She had barely walked out of some desolate mountain wilderness, and already she’d gotten tangled up in something this big? What was this? Faction politics? Which factions? Was she expected to pick a side already? And wasn’t that…

Wasn’t that a little hasty?

Perhaps because Luo Jiao took so long to answer, the Princess’s patience finally ran out.

She drew a gold leaf token from her sleeve and tossed it toward Luo Jiao. “In a moment of crisis, this token can save your life. I know you will never confess to any so-called crimes. After all, judged purely on the surface, none of it has anything to do with you. To dig any deeper, one would have to seek out cultivators from Lanjie Prefecture, Dragon Chant Island, or perhaps Sanqing Mountain, and invite them to make a determination. You won’t agree to that, and I have no particular appetite for it.”

“Let this matter end here.”

Paying no mind to Zhou Zhaoyue’s astonished stare beside her, the Princess rose to her feet and started to leave.

Then she cast one last glance back at Luo Jiao. “As for changing your surname, honored guest, think it over carefully.”

By mid-morning, Luo Jiao, deciding that obedience was the better part of courtesy, picked up her little bundle and left, leaving behind a glaring Zhou Zhaoyue and a crowd of utterly bewildered officials.

The instigator of it all, the Eldest Princess herself, was striding briskly out of the compound. Meeting the astonished looks of everyone around her, she simply smiled and said, “The day is fine and bright. Why not ride out and enjoy the spring? I grant you all one day’s rest. Set down your work, saddle your horses, and go enjoy the season. Anyone who doesn’t have a good time will be punished.”

With that, she swept out of the office like the wind.

No one knew what game the Princess was playing, and none dared approach. Only Zhou Zhaoyue hurried after her. “Your Highness, this, this is far too reckless!”

The Princess didn’t turn her head, though her voice carried a smile. “Reckless? Does Vice Minister Zhou have a better solution?”

“Your Highness!” Zhou Zhaoyue was sweating with anxiety, one step away from dropping to her knees.

Seeing that no one else was nearby, she stopped maintaining her man’s voice, and when she spoke again, her true timbre returned at once.

“Zhou Kong!” she hissed, low and urgent. “This is harboring a criminal!”

The Eldest Princess’s true name was Zhou Kong; her title was Qianjun.

In the entire court, only Zhou Zhaoyue would dare address the Eldest Princess by her given name.

Zhou Kong merely yawned lazily at the words. “A-Yue, do you know how many people at court are watching you like hawks, waiting for you to slip? Do you know what would happen if you made one careless mistake?”

Zhou Zhaoyue didn’t grasp her meaning, so she simply turned the same sentence back on her. “So many people at court are watching the Princess’s Manor like hawks. If we’re careless even once and get stamped with the crime of harboring a criminal… isn’t that situation just as dire?”

To her surprise, Zhou Kong resumed her smiling demeanor. “Isn’t that perfect? When word reaches the capital, it will simply be that I, hungry for political achievement, forced my way into the case, then bungled it through incompetence and stubbornness, closing it in haste.”

“You remain the innocent Vice Minister Zhou, forced to bow under my coercive might.”

“The Eldest Princess and the Vice Minister of Judicial Review, gradually at odds.”

“And in the eyes of outsiders, it will merely be two incompetents banding together, incompetence squared.”

At this point, Zhou Kong nodded slowly, as if quite approving. “Very good. After ‘drowning in the pleasure of handsome men,’ I’ve now earned myself another fascinating accusation.”

“…Your Highness!”

Zhou Zhaoyue cut her off. “Stop joking!”

“I’m not joking.” Zhou Kong blinked. “That’s genuinely what I think.”

The Eldest Princess had always been like this, her moods unpredictable, her judgments capricious. No one ever knew what she was truly thinking.

So although Zhou Zhaoyue visibly froze for a moment, she soon resigned herself and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Letting her go was far too careless.”

“Pressing her too hard would only do harm, no good,” Zhou Kong replied. “Writing tales of ghosts and spirits into an official report? That would truly be a sign of a broken mind.”

Zhou Zhaoyue said, “Tales of ghosts and spirits are obviously out of the question. It should be…”

“Should be?” Zhou Kong cut her off sharply. “Demonic arts? Sorcery?”

She pressed relentlessly. “Or perhaps you intend to write the Forbidden Art passed down through the ages, the Heart Illusion Art, into an official report and present it to the capital?”

The Heart Illusion Art was a form of Delusion Arts, one that drove and manipulated the hearts of men, bending them to the caster’s will. So recorded the old histories and unofficial chronicles.

When she first encountered this baffling case, Zhou Zhaoyue had already suspected some connection to the art of Heart Illusion, though she had never said so aloud. She knew perfectly well that as long as those three characters went unspoken, everything remained mere speculation. An outright accusation would ignite a storm. Caution upon caution was the only proper course.

Now Zhou Kong had brought it up so candidly, and Zhou Zhaoyue could hardly conceal her shock.

“You, you knew all along! Then all the more reason not to let that Xu Liangdi go!” Zhou Zhaoyue’s eyes shot up. “If she does evil again, you’ll be an accomplice!”

The word “accomplice” was an ugly one no matter how you sliced it. Even attached to the current Eldest Princess, it might be brushed off as trivial, or blown up into a formal impeachment.

Zhou Zhaoyue expected Zhou Kong to at least show a flicker of alarm. Instead, the other woman remained as nonchalant as ever. “Accomplice? How wonderful.”

Then her tone shifted. “Do you know who, in this world, has wielded the art of Heart Illusion better than anyone else?”

“Ye Qingzhou.” Before Zhou Zhaoyue could answer, Zhou Kong continued in a measured voice. “Ye Qingzhou of the Wind Grace Sect.”

“I once watched her conjure mirrors. She transformed the entirety of Sanqing Mountain, stretching a thousand li, into a sea of mist.”

“But the Heart Illusion Art is not one of Wind Grace’s secret teachings. There is a saying that before entering the Wind Grace Sect, Ye Qingzhou studied under Daoist Sanqing. My guess is that she learned the art from that person.”

“Everyone assumes Ye Qingzhou is the only person alive who knows this illusion technique.” Zhou Kong’s eyes narrowed. “But today… I believe I have found another.”

Zhou Zhaoyue said, “So that’s why you asked that Xu Liangdi about changing her name. You want to make her serve you?”

Zhou Kong gave an “mm.” “I offered her my surname so that she, too, would submit to me—”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Does that displease Vice Minister Zhou? Am I at fault for letting this little girl from the countryside also carry the surname Zhou, so she might stand on equal footing with you, Vice Minister of Judicial Review?”

Zhou Zhaoyue had originally been named Zhao Yue, taking the surname Zhou only after marrying into the Princess’s Manor. A scholar of common birth, receiving the imperial surname was itself a form of submission.

Now Zhou Zhaoyue froze, then immediately bowed low. “Your minister would never dare! I have never thought such a thing…”

“Vice Minister.” Zhou Kong cut her off with a cold laugh. “It seems I have treated you too well for too long, and it’s made you forget your place.”

“That’s not it!” Zhou Zhaoyue said hurriedly. “Your minister simply doesn’t understand. If she truly has such ability, then letting her go… wouldn’t that be more dangerous?”

Zhou Kong countered, “Zhou Zhaoyue, we are nothing but mortal flesh and bone. If we tear off all pretense and imprison her, or leave each other a way out and let her go… which is truly the safer path?”

Then she smiled. “I imagine you’re still startled that she saw through you at a glance, that you’re not a man. Vice Minister Zhou, a person who can wield the Heart Illusion Art, what difficulty would there be in seeing through your sex?”

Seeing Zhou Zhaoyue’s stubborn expression, Zhou Kong plainly lost patience. “Zhao Yue, let me put it another way.”

If it weren’t for me, you, a false Prince Consort who snuck into the examination hall dressed as a man, guilty of deceiving the sovereign… your head would already have hung from the city gate for seven days and seven nights.

Zhou Zhaoyue said, “…Your minister would not dare.”

Zhou Kong took a step forward. “Not dare to do what?”

Zhou Zhaoyue only bowed her head. “…Not dare to overstep.”

Watching Zhou Zhaoyue lower herself so completely, Zhou Kong showed no emotional reaction at all.

She only sighed, slow and quiet.

“Zhaoyue, you once asked me: we all read the same sage’s books, so why must the women of this world disguise themselves as men before they can touch the halls of power?”

“From childhood, I wondered too. Why was it that my swordsmanship, my horsemanship, my statecraft essays, my memorization, in every one of these I surpassed my sickly brother, that walking medicine jar, and yet Father the Emperor always favored him?”

“Later, I understood.”

“It comes down to power.”

“Power is never held by one person alone, yet those who hold it always cut down whatever differs from them. And so everyone who is different becomes a pawn beneath the wheels of power.”

“And I intend to be the one who changes the dynasty.”

Zhou Zhaoyue had always known that the dynasty Zhou Kong meant to change was more than a name. What she wanted to transform was the rites; what she wanted to overturn was the law itself. She wanted to strip the shackles from women, so they would no longer be confined to the hearth by notions of “men outside, women within” and “men exalted, women debased.”

Zhou Zhaoyue understood what she was doing. Or rather, she understood what they were doing. It was a brutal road. If they succeeded, ten thousand generations would benefit. If they failed…

Zhou Zhaoyue didn’t dare think it through. It would hardly be difficult to arrange for a minor Vice Minister of Judicial Review to quietly drop dead. And even Zhou Kong, the Eldest Princess herself, if she were ever branded a traitor to the realm, would surely lose her head as well, wouldn’t she?

Zhou Zhaoyue could not bear the thought.

She had always believed in the old creed: to hear the Way in the morning is worth dying for in the evening. She herself could perish. But not Zhou Kong. Zhou Kong carried ambitions that pierced the clouds. Such a woman deserved her name in the annals of history.

Zhou Kong spoke on, unhurried.

“Look at that Xu Liangdi. In her family, one healthy elder sister and one sickly younger brother. However stark the contrast, the former was dutifully sacrificed to fulfill the latter. And in this world, how many households endure in exactly that fashion?”

Zhou Zhaoyue knew what Zhou Kong meant.

She sighed. “This world of ours has far too many ‘Xu Liangdis.'”

“And so, I need power,” Zhou Kong said. “Ye Qingzhou of Wind Grace shut her gates against me. Her loss, for failing to read the room.”

“But the person before us now possesses ability second to none, happens to have no standing whatsoever, is utterly alone in the world, and is perfectly easy to handle. I will not let such an opportunity slip by.”

Zhou Zhaoyue cut in, astonished. “Whose ability… is not… beneath whose?”

Zhou Kong answered with conviction. “Xu Liangdi’s ability is not beneath Ye Qingzhou’s.”

“…………”

Zhou Zhaoyue said, “Your Highness must be joking.”

The Changsheng Sword. Ye Qingzhou. Foremost swordswoman of the Nine Provinces. And the Eldest Princess was comparing her to some brat who had come out of nowhere, even claiming the girl’s “ability was not beneath hers”? Forget the Old Sect Master of Wind Grace twisting his nose in fury; any random passerby on the street would laugh their teeth off hearing it.

Catching the doubt on Zhou Zhaoyue’s face, Zhou Kong’s lips curled into a smile. “You needn’t believe me.”

“A-Yue, you need only stay by my side, and serve me.”

Suddenly Zhou Kong reached out, caught Zhou Zhaoyue’s collar, and pulled her close.

Her voice dropped, low and husky.

“Our golden age is one we shall build with our own hands.”