Chapter 104
Chapter 104
After seeing the portrait the artist had painted, the King’s desire for her surged even more intensely. Soon after, the King asked if she was a virgin, and his servant replied that Ha Wanwan was indeed pure, having never received a guest in her chambers. The King then secretly summoned Ha Wanwan to the palace and spent the night with her.
Of course, Ha Wanwan was a renowned courtesan, so while she could not become an imperial concubine, she could still win the King’s favor. But that night, no red blood stained the sheets, and the King, feeling deceived, flew into a rage.
Ha Wanwan wept until she felt she would cough up blood, swearing to the heavens that she was innocent, pure as driven snow. She herself had no idea why there was no blood. Could it have been from riding a horse?
Just then, the collection of poems Li Wenzheng had published suddenly began to sell inexplicably well. It was because Li Wenzheng had become famous. The scandal he had caused in Xuanwu City had even reached the capital. As they say, good news travels slow, but bad news spreads far and wide. Riding the wave of rumor, his poetry collection became a bestseller overnight.
Someone reported to the King that one of Li Wenzheng’s poems praised Ha Wanwan and that this very poem was still hanging in her private chambers. Another person spread a rumor that Li Wenzheng had used his "Poem to a Beauty" to move Ha Wanwan’s heart and had subsequently become a guest in her room.
The King, furious, immediately sent men to search Li Wenzheng’s residence. They found a portrait of Ha Wanwan, and on it were strange stains, like a map. The portrait gave off an odd, stale odor. Not only that, but they also found a silk handkerchief stained with blood in Li Wenzheng’s quarters. The blood on the handkerchief was dark red, suggesting it was old. But the crucial detail was the embroidered weeping rose on the silk—it was Ha Wanwan’s personal emblem.
The evidence was solid, irrefutable. Yet the King could not openly express his anger. He could not let others know he was enraged with jealousy over a mere woman.
‘Li Wenzheng, you dare sleep with my woman? Are you mocking me? Not only that, you write a poem full of resentment, satirizing the court for its lack of discernment, for not giving a talented man like you a proper position and preventing you from realizing your grand ambitions…’
All of this was a fabrication, a setup prepared by Shen Lang. The King was not so foolish as to kill a second-rank scholar of the state purely out of his own anger and jealousy. But what was found under Li Wenzheng’s bed sealed his fate. Under his bed was a small straw doll with the Crown Prince's birth chart written on it, riddled with silver needles.
In the past, Li Wenzheng had an opportunity for an audience with the Crown Prince, during which the Prince had criticized Li Wenzheng’s conduct and appearance as improper. Because of that, Li Wenzheng had waited for months without receiving a single official post.
The fact that Li Wenzheng later became a Silver-Clad Imperial Censor was thanks to the Third Prince's assistance. Thus, this evidence of a curse appeared to be a sign of conflict and political strife between the Crown Prince and the Third Prince.
An ordinary person, upon finding the straw doll, might think Li Wenzheng had been framed. But the King was different. He would never tolerate factional strife and internal conflict in the kingdom he ruled. The King immediately ordered the straw doll to be burned, pretending nothing had happened, and resolved to eliminate Li Wenzheng slowly.
But a raging fire is not easily contained. Officials from the Crown Prince's faction were ecstatic upon hearing the news, rolling up their sleeves and preparing to add fuel to the flames. They intended to seize Li Wenzheng and find out who was behind him, who had ordered him to curse the Crown Prince. Even if the Third Prince himself was not implicated, a few high-ranking officials from his faction surely would be.
Seeing the beginnings of a factional war, the King changed his mind and decided to kill Li Wenzheng at once to extinguish the spark. However, by the time the King made this decision, an imperial edict had already been sent, penalizing Li Wenzheng with a year’s salary deduction. How should he handle this? In the end, the King ordered the experts of the Blackwater Terrace to execute Li Wenzheng by a thousand cuts on the spot, without issuing a new edict or confirming his crimes.
After Li Wenzheng’s death, they could simply say he died of a sudden illness, which would not affect the political signal the King had already sent. The King had publicly issued an edict docking his pay for a year, and he would ensure Li Wenzheng’s reputation was preserved even in death. This was the nature of Shen Lang’s unpredictable and vicious scheme. The key was that the straw doll cursing the Crown Prince was real, and the writing on it was Li Wenzheng’s. Shen Lang had merely brought the two things together.
It was true that after Li Wenzheng passed the imperial examinations, he had been unable to secure a post for several months because of a single comment from the Crown Prince that had ruined his prospects. Later, he had pledged allegiance to the Third Prince and finally obtained the position of Silver-Clad Imperial Censor. One might say Li Wenzheng was wronged, but what did it matter? The case of the curse on the Crown Prince could not be investigated deeply. What if the mastermind turned out to be the Third Prince? Thus, the seed of a major incident that could trigger a factional war had to be thoroughly stamped out as quickly as possible.
The incident of Ha Wanwan losing her virginity to Li Wenzheng was not enough to warrant the punishment of death by a thousand cuts, but with the added crime of cursing the Crown Prince, Li Wenzheng’s death was inevitable. Of course, the success of this plot was half due to Shen Lang's brilliant mind, three parts due to the complex political strife in the State of Yue, and the remaining two parts to luck.
During the reigns of Emperor Wu of Han and Empress Wu Zetian in ancient China, how many people lost their lives, caught up in conspiracies? Moreover, Li Wenzheng was a commoner; his life was cheap, easily discarded. What if Tang Yun had been the one caught in this plot? Even if it had been that fatty Jin Mucong, the King could not have killed him so easily, even if he wanted to.
* * *
“Shen Lang, what did you do? What scheme did you use to make the King kill me? Shen Lang, tell me! Let me die with my eyes closed!”
Li Wenzheng screamed and thrashed desperately. Shen Lang felt quite tormented. What was the most important thing to a man? Showing off. A brilliant man shows off openly. His painstakingly designed plot had succeeded perfectly, yet he couldn't boast about it. Was this not like wearing brocade clothes in the dead of night, unable to show them off to anyone? How agonizing.
In the past, the day after Shen Lang became the live-in son-in-law of the Count of Xuanwu's Estate, he couldn't wait to put on his fine clothes, ride in a carriage, and parade through his hometown. Now, he had pulled off such a magnificent scheme, yet he couldn't speak of it to anyone. He was dying of frustration.
‘Brother Li, I want to tell you, but it’s a secret that must not be told. How about I write it down and burn it for you later, so you can read it in the afterlife?’
“Shen Lang, tell me! Otherwise, I won’t forgive you, even as a ghost.”
Li Wenzheng screamed so hard his throat bled.
“Brother Li, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t understand a single word. When did I ever harm you? I’ve been lazing around at home with my wife every day recently. Where would I find the time and energy to harm you? If you don’t believe me, look at the circles under my eyes. Look at my back. Isn’t this the very picture of a man who has overindulged in his passions?”
As Shen Lang spoke, he pointed to his dark circles and patted his aching lower back. Even the Chiliarch of the Blackwater Terrace couldn’t help but glance at Shen Lang. It was true. One look was enough to see that his body had been weakened. He glanced at Mulan and instantly understood. With a wife like Mulan, any man would become as drained as Shen Lang.
Li Wenzheng, convinced in his heart that Shen Lang had driven him to his death, screamed desperately.
“Sirs of the Blackwater Terrace, please tell the King! It was all Shen Lang’s plot! All of it!”
The Chiliarch of the Blackwater Terrace said coolly.
“You’re overthinking things. Do you think he’s a god?”
Li Wenzheng wailed loudly.
“It was really him who harmed me! It’s his scheme! Sob, sob, sob…”
This was the classic situation of screaming until your throat was raw, yet no one believing you. Li Wenzheng was dragged into a large carriage to begin his execution by a thousand cuts. The King had ordered that the execution be carried out while the carriage was in motion and that Li Wenzheng must die only after entering the capital. So, as they began the slow slicing, they also fed him ginseng soup to keep him alive. A moment later, horrific screams echoed from within the carriage. The torture had begun. The King clearly hated him immensely. No words could describe the despair Li Wenzheng felt in that moment. If his thoughts could be summed up in one phrase, it would be this:
‘Shen Lang, you motherfucker!’
It was a miserable end.
* * *
Back in his room, Shen Lang was singing again.
“How lonely it is to have no enemies. How empty it is to have no enemies.”
Mulan gritted her teeth, enduring it for as long as she could before finally speaking.
“My lord, I can listen to you sing that song countless times, but could you please not sing only those two lines?”
Shen Lang replied, looking helpless.
“My lady, I only know these two lines.”
Mulan finally couldn't hold back and said with an air of authority.
“Then stop singing. Can’t you just wait quietly?”
‘You want me to be a quiet, handsome man? That’s my specialty.’
Shen Lang then sat down quietly and properly, waiting for news. With Li Wenzheng sentenced to death by a thousand cuts, the Chiliarch of Yanshan must have been shocked. He would probably release Mulan’s subordinate, Jin Jianniang, and the dozen or so cavalrymen. Two hours ago, Jin Zhong had taken his men to the Yanshan Chiliarch to demand their release. A mere Chiliarchy wouldn't dare to defy the Count of Xuanwu's Estate. After about a few minutes of silence, Shen Lang felt like a long time had passed and couldn't help but speak.
“My lady.”
“What is it?”
“How about I give you a riddle to solve?”
“No.”
She knew without even thinking what kind of riddle her husband would propose. He would surely say something crude, and she had to cut him off right here.
“Fine.”
Shen Lang turned away with a pout, and Mulan sighed.
“Hah! Alright. Tell me, what’s the riddle?”
Mulan felt a pang of pity. He was her husband, yet why was it always she who had to soothe him? Shen Lang said excitedly.
“I’ve composed a rather clumsy verse. It contains the true voice of my heart, four words I chant to myself day and night. See if you can guess them, my lady.”
“Alright, let’s hear it.”
“Dazed and confused, I sought a partner for life, / My lady, you offered a heart so kind. / A new thought is born in my heart today, / Let's turn our hearts to face the bright moon's light!”
It was indeed a clumsy verse, a complete mess. Mulan wracked her brain, trying to solve the riddle hidden in the poem. It was a four-character riddle. Mulan was very clever and soon found the solution. As she figured out the first three characters, her expression remained normal. Those three characters were "I," "really," and "want." But when she solved the last character, Mulan’s face turned beet red, and for a moment, she gritted her teeth, her fists itching to fly.
‘Jin Clan precepts: I must not hit my husband. I must not hit my husband.’
Because the last character meant "to roll around."
Just then, Jin Zhong entered.
“Young Master, Young Lady. The Yanshan Chiliarch wasn't there. The Deputy Chiliarch has our cavalrymen detained.”
Mulan asked him.
“The Deputy Chiliarch? A mere Deputy Chiliarch is detaining our cavalrymen on his own authority and refusing to release them?”
“Yes. And he’s adamant about not releasing them. He said that if you want them released, the Young Master must come and beg him personally.”
Shen Lang immediately cast aside all other thoughts and said in a cold voice.
“Who is this Deputy Chiliarch? To speak like that, he must not value his life.”
“He’s a new appointee who just arrived two days ago. You know him, my lord. It’s Lin Zhuo, the son of the owner of the Splendid Pavilion, the one you tried to sell the dye formula to. He passed the military examinations and was immediately appointed as the Deputy Chiliarch of Yanshan.”
‘Lin Mo’s son? It’s true what they say: enemies always meet on a narrow bridge.’