Chapter XXV – The White Mourning

The rain fell without end. Meixin walked barefoot along the dirt path leading to the old family temple. She wore no cloak, no umbrella. The white fabric of her dress clung to her skin, translucent from the water and heavy with sorrow. Each step left a mark that vanished instantly, as if the world itself refused to remember her existence.

From that day forward, her life changed completely. She swore, in silence, never to wear bright colors again, as if the world had lost all hue. White —the color of mourning— became her only choice. Her soul wept for those who would never return: for the death of her parents, the loss of her child, and the memories of her loyal Liu Zhen. She walked like a ghost, a shadow of what she once was, wrapped in a dense silence crueler than any scream.

And then he appeared. Dressed in a gleaming iron armor, with a crimson cape billowing behind him, General Wei Ren —a tall man, with dark eyes, streaks of gray in his hair, and a face hardened by years on the battlefield— approached with the resolve of one who has survived the impossible.

When their eyes met, no words were needed. The general took a step forward and, in an unexpected gesture, Meixin threw herself into his arms.

—Uncle... you've finally arrived...— she sobbed.

—I'm sorry I came late,— he said in a deep voice. —Wen Jin was not just my cousin; he was my brother. I won't rest until the truth of his fate comes to light.

Two days later, in the rear gardens of the Wen ancestral temple.

—Meixin,— said Wei Ren. —My men followed a lead… and we found evidence. It was a conspiracy. Someone wanted to erase Wen Jin's name… and yours.

She turned to him, holding back the tremble in her lips.

—Who?

—The Zhangs.

The name fell like a sentence. Meixin looked away, clenching her fists. The puzzle pieces finally fit: the lies, the false witnesses, the sudden downfall of her family.

Wei Ren stepped closer, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

—You are not alone in this. Wen Jin was my brother. I swear his memory will be cleansed with justice, not revenge.

The documents found by Wei Ren's army were not just forgotten papers in dusty chests. They were scrolls sealed with red wax, hidden in a secret compartment inside an old auxiliary residence of the Zhang family on the outskirts of Luoyang. The signatures and seals of high-ranking officials were there, imprinted with still-legible black ink: authorizations of fund transfers, lists of false names, altered reports from the Ministry of Justice, and most disturbing of all, tampered transcripts from the trial that sentenced Wen Jin for treason.

When Wei Ren read them for the first time, he felt something inside him break. Every line revealed a carefully orchestrated plot. Not only against Wen Jin… but against the integrity of the empire itself.

—This is not just a family betrayal,— murmured Wei Ren, handing one of the scrolls to his second-in-command. —It's a poisoned web that reaches the heart of the Court.

The testimonies from servants and officials were just as revealing. Most had kept silent out of fear of reprisal; others, out of blind loyalty to Zhang Tao. But when Wei Ren offered imperial protection and showed them the collected evidence, the tongues began to loosen, one by one.

—I was the one who changed the seal on Wen Jin's exoneration decree,— confessed a trembling young scribe. —Lord Zhang threatened to send my mother to the north if I didn't comply.

—I was offered a position in the prefecture in exchange for my silence,— said a retired judge, eyes cast down.

—I heard Zhang Tao say with my own ears: 'Wen Jin is dangerous, too righteous. If he keeps climbing, none of us will be able to move a single piece on the board,'— confirmed one of the former imperial advisors.

One by one, the threads unraveled until the magnitude of the conspiracy was revealed.

When Meixin learned the details, her legs gave out beneath her. She leaned against a column in the main hall of the Wen mansion, her eyes filled with tears. Not of grief, but of rage.

—They killed him… they murdered him with ink and seals…— she whispered. —And no one said a word.

Wei Ren knelt before her, one knee on the floor, the documents extended in his open palm.

—Meixin, now you have the truth. And with it, justice is on our side. I will make the entire empire know what happened… and Wen Jin's name will be restored.

She looked at him, her face still bathed in pain, but with a new spark —a resolve stronger than ever— shining in her eyes.

—And the Zhang name… will be stained forever.

When Zhang Yun received the news, his world shattered.

He was in his study, dressed in a dark blue robe with a jade belt. The imperial letter trembled in his hands. The official seals, the signatures… it was all irrefutable.

—No…—he murmured, letting the letter fall onto the desk. —Father… how could you?

He collapsed into a chair, covering his face with both hands. Shame seeped into his bones. He remembered Meixin's suffering. Every time he had doubted her. Every time he had left her alone.

The fall of the Zhang family was swift and without ceremony. By imperial decree, all their titles were revoked. Their properties, confiscated. Former allies turned their backs. The nobility whispered their names with disdain, as if disgrace were contagious.

Zhang Tao was arrested on charges of treason, corruption, and forgery of official documents. His trial was public and merciless. Seated in the center of the tribunal, hands in chains and gaze empty, he uttered not a single word. There was no pride left in him.

The sentence fell like an axe.

"Zhang Tao, for crimes against the crown and the people, you shall be executed at dawn on the third day."

Zhang Yun did not attend. He could not face the complete collapse of his lineage.