After leaving Huichun Hall, Song Huaiyu passed by a noodle stall along the street. Remembering that Ji Ping’an liked tangbing (soup ftbreads), he packed a portion to go. He also picked up a few pastries from the shop next door—snacks that could both entertain and fill the stomach—before returning to the cramped cell in Kaifeng Prefecture.

  Inside the narrow prison cell, Song Huaiyu unfolded a small portable table and set the noodles and pastries upon it, then called Ji Ping’an over to eat.

  The cell was so tiny that with a table set up, there was only enough space for one person to sit and eat. So, Song Huaiyu voluntarily moved to stand by the door.

  He lowered his gaze and looked at Ji Ping’an.

  She was still wearing that red hat he had bought in a rush the other day—the one with a little tiger face embroidered on it. It didn’t match her otherwise elegant and refined outfit at all.

  But what could he do? That was the only style the vendor had at the time.

  Still... it was strangely cute.

  Especially when she puffed her cheeks and blew on the hot noodles to cool them down.

  Song Huaiyu quickly reined in his overly direct gaze and said, “Dongchun is at Huichun Hall now. She’ll be staying there for the time being.”

  Ji Ping’an looked up. Through the bars of the cell, a light mist of steam swirled in front of her face. And then her eyes lit up with warmth and relief even in the gloom of the dungeon. “Really?”

  Song Huaiyu nodded. “Mm.”

  Ji Ping’an clutched her chest and let out a sigh of relief. “You kept dodging my questions before—I thought something had happened.”

  Song Huaiyu: “You were that worried about Dongchun?”

  Ji Ping’an: “Mm.”

  Song Huaiyu: “Why?”

  Ji Ping’an frowned slightly. “What do you mean, why?”

  Song Huaiyu, as if affected by her frown, furrowed his brow too. “This is the first time I’ve seen a young miss care so much for a maid. You pnned her way out, even humbled yourself to beg others for her sake.”

  Ji Ping’an: “…”

  Ji Ping’an asked him, “Cousin Huaiyu, do you think I’ve been wronged in this matter?”

  Song Huaiyu nodded.

  Ji Ping’an said calmly, “Then Dongchun and I are in the same position.”

  Song Huaiyu still couldn’t quite understand. He slowly crouched down so that they were eye-level and said, “Ji Ping’an.”

  Ji Ping’an: “Hmm?”

  Song Huaiyu said seriously, “I won’t let the Princess punish you.”

  …

  At dusk the next day, Kaifeng Prefecture constables hid themselves in the alley across from Ma Lishui’s home.

  Ma Lishui had worked at the Princess’s residence. With a decent monthly wage, he had managed to buy a modest two-bedroom home in the suburbs, tucked deep within a ne. A short walk from there led straight to a bustling market.

  Everyone knew Ma Lishui was addicted to gambling at Xingrong Gambling Den. He had racked up a mountain of debt, even mortgaging his house. Since the repayment deadline hadn’t come yet, the den hadn’t evicted Ma Lishui’s wife, Liu Shuya, and their son, Ma Xiaotian.

  As usual, the gambling den’s thugs made a big show of arriving at the Ma residence—banging on the door, kicking it in, barging inside with practiced ease.

  The leader, Zhao Tie, held a thick wooden stick. “Time’s up. Where’s the money?”

  Liu Shuya trembled as she clutched her son, her legs shaking. “Master Zhao, could you give us just a few more days? My husband died without a proper expnation… His body’s still at the prefecture office…”

  “Your husband dying has nothing to do with me!” Zhao Tie had no patience for her pleas. “Let me tell you, I don’t deal in people, I deal in silver. If you don’t hand over the money today… heh…”

  Zhao Tie’s cruel gaze nded on Ma Xiaotian. “That little brat should fetch a decent price at the market.”

  Liu Shuya quickly shielded her son behind her.

  Zhao Tie gave a signal, and six hired goons stepped forward, surrounding the mother and child.

  He toyed with his stick. “Money or the kid. Choose.”

  When Liu Shuya still didn’t answer, Zhao Tie motioned for his men to grab the child.

  Ma Xiaotian burst into tears, wailing in terror.

  Realizing she had no way out, Liu Shuya gritted her teeth and said, “Don’t touch my son. I’ll get the money.”

  She led them to the kitchen, where she pried open a dirt stove with some tools. Soon, she dug out a blue cloth bundle. Inside were five heavy silver ingots.

  “I knew you were hiding money, you sneaky wretch!” Zhao Tie shoved her aside and weighed the silver in his hand. “Well, well—twenty taels apiece.”

  Five ingots of silver—one hundred taels in total.

  Zhao Tie packed the silver up and asked, “Where’s the rest?”

  Liu Shuya was stunned. “What rest?”

  “Don’t f**king py dumb with me!” Zhao Tie kicked Liu Shuya to the ground, then stepped on her head. He pulled the IOU from his chest and spped it against her face again and again. “Look at it clearly! Your man owes the gambling den three hundred and sixty-eight taels, principal and interest included. You think a lousy hundred taels is enough to send me packing? What do you take me for, a beggar?”

  Liu Shuya cried out, sobbing, “That’s impossible! My husband only earned ten taels a year—how could he borrow over three hundred taels? You’re lying!”

  “Lie to your damned grandma!” Zhao Tie pressed down harder with his foot, distorting her face. “Look! Right there, that’s his fingerprint on the paper. He signed it himself. He was all smug when he borrowed the money, and now you tell me you’ve got nothing to pay me back with? Are you trying to die, b***h?”

  As he spoke, Zhao Tie raised his thick club high over Liu Shuya’s leg.

  Liu Shuya stared at the club in terror—it was thicker than her arm. If he brought it down, her leg would definitely break.

  “Master Zhao, I’m begging you, just give us a little more time! I really don’t have the money! I swear I’m not lying!” Liu Shuya wept and wailed. “My husband only brought back seven ingots in total. Then he took two with him and left us with five. These five ingots are all we have left. My son and I were clinging to this money to get through the rest of our lives; that’s why we didn’t tell the truth before. Zhao Tie, we’re just a poor widow and a child—we really have nothing left!”

  Just then, someone grabbed Zhao Tie’s wrist, halting the club midair.

  A voice came from behind him: “You said Ma Lishui brought back a total of seven ingots. At twenty taels apiece, that’s a hundred and forty taels. Ma Lishui only made ten taels a year—where did he get a hundred and forty taels?”

  Liu Shuya blinked, dazed. “I… I don’t know.”

  She was just an ordinary woman, sold to Ma Lishui for a tael of silver by her parents. She couldn’t read and had never gone to school. Her days were spent washing clothes and cooking meals. She didn’t know anything about anything.

  And Ma Lishui never told her anything either.

  Song Huaiyu stepped out from behind Zhao Tie. “Your husband didn’t tell you anything at all?”

  Liu Shuya nodded desperately.

  Her head was still covered in dirt and leaves from being stomped into the ground earlier.

  Looking at the bnk and clueless expression on her face, Song Huaiyu judged that she truly didn’t seem like she was lying.

  “Do you want to find the person who killed your husband?” he asked.

  Liu Shuya thought for a moment, then shook her head.

  Song Huaiyu was startled. “You don’t want to?”