Though the emperor consented to the search of the residence, he imposed a further stipulation. He forbade the Three Departments from deploying their own officers and insisted that the Imperial Guards conduct the search personally. To others, this appeared to be a harsher inspection, but in Yan Congzheng's heart, it was the sole glimmer of hope amid the looming peril. As the deputy commander of the Imperial Guards, he could swiftly inform Ye Jiao of the impending search before it began. Perhaps she might escape and return to the capital once the case was resolved.
"Furthermore," after Yan Congzheng received the decree and withdrew, a cold gleam suddenly flashed in the emperor's previously gentle eyes. "Today, this Xuanzheng Hall shall serve as the court for your Three Departments. The case of Duke Anguo's household will be tried here—let truth and falsehood be laid bare. If Tibet harbors designs to collude with Tang officials to pilfer military secrets, then this peace negotiation might as well be abandoned!"
The declaration struck like thunder, turning every face in the court pale. At the Tang imperial court, all officials of fifth rank and above, along with those holding posts such as imperial attendants, assistant ministers, censors, and grand scholars, were required to attend the morning assembly daily. Added to this were over a dozen royal scions wielding authority. The vast Xuanzheng Hall was filled with more than a hundred listeners, all to witness the trial.
The emperor's intentions were clear: either to utterly crush Duke Anguo's household or to bestow such favor that no defamation could touch them.
Baili Xi, the deputy censor-in-chief, paled slightly but still raised his tablet respectfully. "I shall obey the imperial command." Before offering counsel today, he had only thirty percent confidence that the emperor would approve the search. Now, though elated beyond measure, sitting in the Xuanzheng Hall for the trial filled him with unease.
Fortunately, before entering, he had arranged for Feng Ming to disguise himself as an attendant and await outside the palace gates. Baili Xi requested permission to depart and assist the Imperial Guards in the search. The emperor nodded solemnly and commanded, "Go, and bring Ye Jiao here for me as well."
Since the case of embassy theft implicated Ye Jiao, her arrest was justified. Yet suddenly, an official in the court raised his tablet and knelt, pleading, "I must protest."
The emperor's gaze fell upon Liu Yan, the reticent Prefect of Jingzhao Prefecture. The office of Jingzhao Prefect was notoriously difficult—a post governing the capital region and twenty-four counties including Chang'an and Lantian. The position demanded managing numerous cases both great and small, navigating complex relations with other departments, and avoiding offending high-ranking officials or nobles. Many failed to hold the position long, but Liu Yan had done admirably.
His secret weapon was his impenetrable silence and emotional detachment. Even the emperor's inquiries often received but a single curt answer. Colleagues found conversing with him more futile than speaking to a tree. The leaves rustled with the wind, yet Liu Yan's lips remained sealed. He neither engaged socially nor attended any weddings or funerals in the capital, greeting invitations with a mere polite phrase before setting them aside. At first, he was scorned as a miserly, aloof guardian of the treasury, but over time, people grew accustomed to his nature and ceased expecting more.
To the emperor, Liu Yan was a rare solitary minister. Though many could keep him company, few were truly loyal to him alone. The emperor admired Liu Yan and was willing to hear his objections.
"I am prepared to vouch for Military Marquis Ye Jiao," Liu Yan declared. "Among the thousand or so marquises in the capital, it is impossible that all abide by the law. Yet I do not believe she would abuse her authority, nor does she deserve to stand trial before the Three Departments."
A trial meant corporal punishment. Even ten strokes would cripple that lively and clever girl for life. This was the only commendation Liu Yan had ever voiced for a colleague since entering officialdom through the imperial examinations.
The emperor studied him intently and asked, "Prefect Liu, what do you offer as guarantee?"
"Myself…" Liu Yan's face flushed scarlet. Finally, he grasped his headwear, removed the black gauze official's cap, and raised it high. "I offer this as surety."
A chorus of gasps filled the hall. An official kneeling beside Liu Yan tugged his sleeve, whispering, "Prefect Liu, be cautious!"
But Liu Yan remained unmoved, lips trembling but resolute. Ye Jiao was his subordinate, the one who had helped him tame the military marquises and resist treachery at the city gate. He could not believe she would break the law—he simply could not.
"Prefect Liu," the emperor expressed mild surprise, "since you offer your guarantee, then hold fast to your cap and witness the Three Departments' trial. You trust her, but do you not trust the justice of our Tang law?"
"I dare not," Liu Yan replied blankly. Justice of the law? Those who wield it for personal gain—can they truly be just?
Still, however foolish, Liu Yan would not dare offend the Ministry of Justice, the Censorate, and the Ministry of Punishments all at once.
Seeing the imperial will was unwavering, Baili Xi stepped back, then turned and left. Clad in his fifth-rank embroidered crimson robe, he moved through the court like a drop of blood spattered on the executioner's platform.
Baili Xi planned first to head to the Imperial Guards' headquarters. Approaching the palace gate, he deliberately approached a carriage and handed a letter from his sleeve to Feng Ming. "Half an hour until the Anguo residence."
"Understood." Feng Ming grasped the gravity of the matter.
As he hurried toward Yujie Street, Feng Ming suddenly sensed someone watching him. He spun around sharply and saw a lame man leaning on the alley wall, slowly shuffling forward. A cripple? What was there to fear? Feng Ming snorted and quickened his pace down the lane, unaware that the lame man soon steadied himself, led a horse from a corner, mounted it clumsily despite the stiff, hobbling leg, and assumed a solemn, resolute expression as if commanding a thousand troops on the battlefield, aiming his spear at the enemy.
Before the Imperial Guards moved, the search notice had already reached Ye Jiao—Yan Congzheng had deliberately slowed the assembly to grant her time.
Holding the brief note, Ye Jiao stood beneath the vermilion plaque of the Anguo residence's gate, trembling uncontrollably. Anger, grievance, unwillingness, along with worry, fear, and shock—these emotions overwhelmed her. Beyond all, a fierce self-reproach gripped her heart, making every breath short and heavy. She had failed to protect her mother and safeguard this home.
The Anguo residence would be ransacked by the Imperial Guards, its dignity shattered. Her mother would be frightened, her sister ashamed.
Yan Congzheng intended to prepare her. Anything within the household easily misconstrued by the court must be destroyed or concealed. He granted her half an hour—ample time for many tasks.
Yet Ye Jiao wished only to comfort her mother.
The Anguo matron sat in the front hall, instructing Ye Rou in embroidery. "On this single plum blossom, embroider a cluster of snow. Red plum blossoms within snow symbolize resilience."
Ye Jiao entered, took her mother's hand, and spoke gently. "His Majesty has only ordered a search. Mother, please avoid the residence temporarily and retreat to the estate, to spare yourself distress."
Ye Rou's needle trembled and pierced her fingertip. A drop of blood fell onto the red plum blossom, vivid and shocking.
"No need," the matron reassured, patting Ye Jiao's hand. "I was indeed afraid before, but I have come to understand. You are my children; I know well who you are. If they wish to search, let them search. Better to detain me in the Court of Justice—I will inquire why these men all possess dog's eyes!"
Ye Jiao's heart lightened slightly. She then urged Ye Rou, "Sister, you lack the courage. Go live at the estate for a while."
"I won't," Ye Rou's face paled, her almond eyes brimming with tears, stubbornly refusing. "If they search, they'll seize the ledgers. I kept the accounts—if interrogated, I must have an explanation."
Their mother resumed teaching embroidery, calm and composed, only the fingers clutching the hand warmer betrayed tension, turning white with strain.
When Ye Jiao reached the gate again, she met Feng Jie riding swiftly back. Feng Jie, a retainer of Ye Jiao's grandfather, lame and without kin, had lived at the Anguo residence all these years. He had secretly taught Ye Jiao martial arts and archery.
"How is it?" Ye Jiao asked, stepping forward. She had found Feng Ming and instructed Feng Jie to shadow him.
"The wolf is upon us!" Feng Jie's expression was tense yet exhilarated. "Right behind me."
"Good." Ye Jiao smiled for the first time in a long while and strode into the courtyard.
"Guards!" she called, and the household guards answered in unison.
"You have kept vigil night and day without respite, haven't you?" Ye Jiao asked. Since the Ye family's troubles began, she had commanded strict security, not allowing even a fly inside.
"Yes!" the guards replied together.
"If there were wolves, tigers, hawks, snakes, could you catch them?" she pressed.
"Yes!" came the resolute chorus.
"Excellent!" she clapped her hands. "Disperse!"
When Yan Congzheng led a hundred Imperial Guards to the Anguo residence, Ye Jiao stood calmly before the jade screen. Except for a single carriage outside, nothing had been moved from the residence.
Baili Xi entered and nodded to Ye Jiao. "By imperial order, we shall search the Anguo household. Military Marquis, we regret this duty."
Ye Jiao smiled faintly and raised a hand. "By all means."
"Also," Baili Xi continued, "Deputy Commander Yan delayed to find suitable shackles. They have now been procured. Please accompany us to the palace for an audience."
Shackles—wooden boards pierced with three holes for the head and hands, locked behind—facilitated the escort of prisoners. Ye Jiao was now a suspect.
"Very well." Ye Jiao nodded serenely, offering no resistance.
Yet when Yan Congzheng took the shackles from his subordinate, his hand trembled. As he approached Ye Jiao, the pain and fury in his expression were unmistakable.
Baili Xi had already led the Imperial Guards in a chaotic search; desks were overturned, cupboards ransacked, the household in turmoil.
"Perhaps…" Yan Congzheng said, "I should help you escape."
Escape—and thereby avoid this humiliation...