Chapter 132: Drum of Hearing Petitions
“These past two days, the manor has been in mourning. While I was sorting through Fan Bing’s belongings, I found these…”
Wen Jia finished speaking and then took out a faded pawn ticket from Bao Rui Zhai from the silk coin purse she carried. The edges were gnawed by mice and ants, but Ping Le’s personal seal was intact.
“This was found in an old chest under Fan Bing’s bed.”
She then produced several paper slips of varying ages and handed them to Xue Sui.
“This was found in a hidden drawer in the study room.”
“This was found under the wardrobe.”
The faint morning light filtering through the window illuminated her dark eyes, making them resemble deep pools.
“Fan Bing was mediocre and incompetent, but cunning. For years, he acted as a broker for Ping Le. He likely understood her character, which is why he secretly kept these pieces of evidence. Fearing discovery, he hid them very discreetly…”
“It’s a pity he wasn’t very capable, and Ping Le wouldn’t entrust him with important tasks. These were all minor matters of reselling contraband…”
Wen Jia’s eyes sparkled, and her back was straight.
The window of the rouge shop faced the street. The soft sunlight cast a flickering shadow on her face. Inside her cloak, she wore mourning clothes. Despite the stark white funeral attire, it made her appear resolute and brave.
This was entirely different from when Xue Sui first met her.
Three years ago, on the night of the Lantern Festival, Xue Sui had personally seen Wen Jia being dragged away by a drunken Fan Bing, who was grabbing her arm, in a corner. The silk flower by her temple had been crushed…
Fan Bing’s death was like a mountain being lifted from her head. The long-standing shackles were gone, and she was reborn.
“I remember once, after getting drunk, Fan Bing bragged that he had leverage over Ping Le, making her fear him. At the time, I thought he was talking nonsense. Only now, after finding these, do I realize he had always kept a fallback plan for himself. It’s also fortunate that his cowardly and suspicious nature led him to leave behind this evidence…”
“Sixth Sister, please take a look. Are these useful?”
Xue Sui sat down and slowly began to examine them.
Fan Bing’s handwriting crawled like a centipede.
“Winter of the eighth year of Chong Zhao. One jade peace buckle, acquired while working for Princess Ping Le, exchanged for fifty taels of silver. Lost.”
“Spring of the tenth year of Chong Zhao. Found a pair of Western exotic treasures, night-glowing cups, for Princess Ping Le through the dealer Ma San. Cost over thirty thousand taels of silver. The payment was made by the new Jinshi scholar, Master Li Liang Sheng. Received a reward of five hundred taels. Lost.”
“Early winter of the eleventh year of Chong Zhao. Sun Da, Assistant Director of the Ministry of Works, oversaw the renovation of the Princess’s Mansion, falsely reporting expenses of twenty thousand taels. The surplus went into Princess Ping Le’s private treasury. Assisted in procuring materials, received a reward of two hundred taels. Lost.”
Those damp pages contained years of sordid dealings between Fan Bing and Ping Le. They were trivial, and few could directly implicate Ping Le. However, it was clear that Fan Bing had been carrying out all sorts of unsavory acts under Ping Le’s orders.
The most damning was a confidential letter. It was unclear if Fan Bing had stolen it from Ping Le’s residence, but it clearly stated, “Flood control funds transferred by ten thousand.” It bore the seals of Ping Le and Xiao Zheng Yuan, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works, and the date was half a month before the Luo River dike burst.
“The flood control funds, after passing through Ping Le’s hands, were misappropriated elsewhere.”
Xue Sui clenched the confidential letter, her elbow hitting the carved window heavily. The window frame vibrated incessantly.
“The Luo River flood disaster caused hundreds of thousands of people downstream to suffer… Famine and death were rampant, and the number of casualties was countless!”
Wen Jia sighed, “The secret room in the West Mountain Villa is clearly filled with Ping Le’s crimes. Unfortunately, Imperial Father favors her. Not only does he refuse to punish her, but he also conceals evidence and pacifies the court and country’s criticism…”
Xue Sui looked at the evidence.
“Fan Bing committed so many wicked deeds. It’s not unjust for him to die at Ping Le’s hands.”
Wen Jia gave a bitter smile, “He deserved to die, he should have died long ago!”
Xue Sui raised her eyes and met Wen Jia’s gaze. “What are your plans next, Princess?”
Wen Jia pursed her lips slightly, revealing a faint, sad smile.
“I want to rescue my Mother. She has waited too long in the Cold Palace. She has been confined for eleven years, and the moss in the Cold Palace has already grown over the threshold. I have grown up, and her hair has turned white…”
Xue Sui nodded slightly, put away the confidential letter, and touched the stray hairs by her temple.
“The numerous crimes in the West Mountain Villa couldn’t lead to a severe punishment for Ping Le. These likely won’t be enough to deal with her either…”
Sensing Wen Jia’s body stiffen, she changed her tone.
“However, to save the Princess’s mother, I do have a good idea…”
Wen Jia curtsied, “I am eager to hear it.”
Xue Sui’s gaze swept over her fair fingertips and then turned to the rising sun outside the window.
“This action may violate imperial taboos and is somewhat risky.”
Wen Jia’s eyes were firm, and she said without hesitation, “To save my Mother, even if I have to walk to the gates of hell, I am not afraid. It’s just my Niu Niu…”
She bit her lip, suddenly clasped Xue Sui’s hands tightly, and a sob rumbled in her throat.
“I have placed Niu Niu in Pu Ji Temple, where a wet nurse is taking care of her. If… something were to happen to me. I implore Sixth Sister to look after her and find a way out for Niu Niu—do not allow her to be recognized by her paternal family, and do not let her know her birth father.”
She bowed deeply.
Xue Sui clasped her cold hands in return and helped her up.
“It won’t come to life or death. You must remember, like Ping Le, you are of imperial blood, a Princess of Daliang… At least, on the imperial jade tablet, you and Ping Le are no different.”
Wen Jia nodded emphatically, “I will do as you say.”
“This matter—requires a favorable wind.”
Xue Sui dipped her fingers into the cooled tea soup and wrote the character “uproar” on the desk.
The water dripped slowly along the grain of the wooden desk, like tears of blood…
The next day.
Before the thin mist of the fifth watch had dispersed, Princess Wen Jia, clad in mourning clothes, held a blood-written petition and stood outside Chengtian Gate. Her bare feet trod over the bluestone, each step firm and heavy, startling the patrolling Imperial Guards into retreating three paces.
“This subject accuses Princess Ping Le of colluding with officials to embezzle flood control funds, causing the Luo River to burst its banks and the people to suffer, and of murdering the Imperial Son-in-law to silence him! I beg Imperial Father to deliver justice for this subject!”
The Dengwen Drum was located in the west corridor outside Chengtian Gate. It was a drum three *zhang* high, its vermilion paint mottled with the traces of time.
Behind it was the Dengwen Drum Bureau.
Once a commoner beat the drum to petition for justice, the officials on duty at the Dengwen Drum Bureau would immediately handle the case.
If the case was significant, it could reach the Emperor directly.
The drumstick struck, and the large drum resounded. Several birds nesting under the eaves took flight in alarm—
Passersby, porters, laborers, and early morning vendors were all drawn by the commotion and gathered around, the noise of the crowd growing.
“Isn’t that Princess Wen Jia, whose Imperial Son-in-law just died…”
“Her Imperial Son-in-law just died? The gambling one from the Fan family?”
“It’s him, who else could it be?”
“Even a dignified Princess has to beat the Dengwen Drum to file a complaint?”
“I heard that Princess Wen Jia’s Imperial Son-in-law was entangled with Princess Ping Le…”
The commoners pointed and chattered incessantly.
Alimu, a foreign merchant in the crowd, gripped his curved saber, his expression grave. Beside him, High Priest Amun Rah turned his wolf bone prayer beads, murmuring incantations.
Not far away, Lu You’an clenched the reins in his hand, so tightly that his palm turned red without him realizing it.
Xue Sui stood calmly behind the support window on the second floor of the Rui Xiang Pavilion on Vermilion Bird Street, her fingertips moving back and forth on the window frame, as if suppressing inner turmoil.
The door of the Dengwen Drum Bureau slowly opened—
Zhao Rucheng, the duty judge for the day, saw the person beating the drum dressed in mourning clothes, her hair disheveled, and her face devoid of color. It was none other than the current Princess Wen Jia. He turned pale with fright, stumbled forward, but kicked the threshold, his official hat askew.
“Oh dear, Your Highness the Princess…”
Zhao Rucheng fumbled to straighten his hat and rushed to Wen Jia, extending his hands as if to snatch the drumstick from her.
“Please put down the drumstick first, Your Highness. We can discuss anything…”
Li Fuyin sidestepped, unmoved, and continued to swing her arms.
Each beat of the drum was like thunder, as if to split the oppressive heaven and earth.
The frail woman swung the drumstick with the ferocity of a general on the battlefield.
Cold sweat soaked Zhao Rucheng’s back, and his scalp tingled.
“Princess, can we discuss this privately? If not, you can petition before His Majesty. Why, why make such a public spectacle, letting everyone know?”
Wen Jia’s face was pale as she stated loudly.
“I have a grievance to report!”
“Princess Ping Le is corrupt and disregards human life. I request His Majesty to thoroughly investigate the Luo River flood case, severely punish the traitors, and bring justice to the wronged!”
The drum surface vibrated, kicking up fine dust.
Then, from the crowd, commoners began to shout in unison.
“Severely punish Princess Ping Le, and deliver justice to the people!”
“Justice must prevail, severely punish the traitors!”
These shouts were like sparks, instantly igniting the emotions of the crowd. The commoners responded one after another, their voices growing louder and more unified. People from all directions were drawn in, like a surging tide, threatening to engulf Chengtian Gate.
