Chapter 233: The Prisoner’s Demise

Yan Congzheng lost his mother in childhood. Though his stepmother fulfilled her duties, warmth was scarce. His father, absorbed in political ambitions, treated him with cold indifference. He cherished Ye Jiao, yet a friend had already stepped forward to propose marriage before him. Though enraged, he could only slowly fade from Ye Jiao's life. Yearning to study and enter officialdom, he was instead assigned to serve in the Imperial Guards. Though unwilling, bound by filial piety, he offered no resistance. Rescuing the emperor in the palace was the sole choice he made for himself—even if that decision meant betraying his family and condemning his entire clan to the executioner's axe. Beyond shared death, he could conceive no other atonement.

Ye Jiao remained silent. In times past, she might have scolded him for his wild imaginings; today, she merely sat quietly beside him, her alabaster arms like lotus stems folded together, knuckles clenched tightly. Yan Congzheng turned to look at her face. Today, she wore the bridal coiffure of a married woman, adorned with a gold-inlaid jade phoenix clutching a peach blossom at its heart—no other ornament. Though less dazzling than before, she exuded a gentler charm. In the dim light of the room, a single tear traced a silver thread down to her knee. She wept.

Yan Congzheng's desolate, withered heart suddenly softened.

"What's the matter?" he asked anxiously, propping himself up. His emotions surged, and a coughing fit overtook him.

Ye Jiao drew her shoulders inward, like a red flower trembling in the wind. She wiped away tears, only for fresh ones to fall. Reaching for a handkerchief, she found none and had to use her shawl to cover her face.

"Stop crying," Yan Congzheng urged gently.

"But you said you wanted to die." Ye Jiao's voice was choked with sobs. "When a friend dies, one must mourn. Today I weep here; tomorrow, I might not visit the grave—saving myself the pain of cursing you there."

Yan Congzheng sighed helplessly. "What would you scold me for?"

Suddenly rising, Ye Jiao pointed at him with fierce emotion. "I scold you for your foolishness and absurdity! When the Prince of Wei and your father conspired to seize the throne, did they ever consult you? Did they treat you as kin? No! They poisoned you, locked you at home—yet you risked your life to break free, to save the realm. They deserve death, not you. Do you know the Prince of Wei even colluded with the Tibetan princess? He's a traitor beyond redemption, yet you choose to die alongside him?"

Yan Congzheng's face froze, struck as if by thunder. The Prince of Wei colluding with the Tibetan princess? Such treason! Though he had witnessed Gesang Meiduo pay homage to Li Chen, he never imagined Li Chen could stoop so low.

Ye Jiao took a deep breath and spoke deliberately:

"Brother Yan, in my heart you are a man who stands tall and unwavering. I know your life is hard now—living in misery is far worse than death. If you refuse officialdom, then consider: are there responsibilities left unfulfilled, dreams yet unrealized, promises unkept?"

Yan Congzheng stared intently at Ye Jiao, tears streaming as she reproached him, his mind a chaotic storm of pain, struggle, and a strange tenderness. Ye Jiao cared deeply for him; she wished him to live. If he sought death, she would truly grieve—and curse him. Perhaps, in her fury, she might even shatter his tombstone.

Before leaving, Ye Jiao arranged for a cook and a servant to be sent to the Yan residence to attend to Yan Congzheng's daily needs—cleaning, changing his dressings. A filthy, disordered environment erodes willpower and drags one into despair.

Lying on freshly changed bedding, Yan Congzheng pondered long and hard. Unfulfilled responsibilities, unrealized dreams, unkept promises… A man owes loyalty to family and country, but now he had neither. Without official rank, he could not serve the state. His dreams were forever out of reach. Promises unkept… A shiver ran down his spine, coldness creeping over his chest and forehead.

In his self-absorption, he had forgotten his sister's two children—Hua Ge'er and little Yu. Hua Ge'er so young, and Yu only three, frail and sickly. According to Tang law, traitors' entire clans were executed, regardless of age. They too—yet he had vowed to Li Chen to protect Hua Ge'er until adulthood.

Leaning on the bed, Yan Congzheng struggled to rise. His wounds and days of near starvation left him weak.

"Someone! Someone!" he called out, "I want to eat." To save others, one must first survive.

Outside the dungeon on the main street, a physician carrying a medicine box retreated hastily, then turned to flee. Swift-eyed Li Jing, Prince Zhao, grabbed him, pleading:

"Saving a life is saving a life. Doctor, show mercy and come in."

The old doctor swayed under Li Jing's grip, face pale.

"Your Highness, that is the dungeon."

"Just pretend you don't know." Li Jing retorted.

"I know how to die, no need for your lessons."

To treat a condemned prisoner in the dungeon was to court death tomorrow and meet the ancestors. Yet with no choice, the doctor removed his robe and fled so fast he left his medicine behind. Li Jing angrily tossed the robe to the ground, eyes blazing, then, after a few steps, returned to retrieve the medicine box and handed it to his attendant.

"What now?" he sighed, mounting his carriage. Evening fell, and the carriage moved slowly through smooth roads, faint scents of cooking drifting from the neighborhoods.

"Turn! Turn!" Li Jing suddenly commanded, "To the Prince Chu's residence!"

The driver hesitated. "Prince Chu just wed yesterday. Is it appropriate to visit so soon?"

Li Jing decided what was proper. He had raised Li Ce long enough; Li Ce should manage his affairs now. Most importantly, Li Ce had many doctors acquainted since childhood. Finding a reckless one inside should be easy.

Unexpectedly, Li Ce and Ye Jiao were not home. After waiting, he saw Li Ce escort Ye Jiao inside; tears stained her face.

Li Jing's expression darkened.

"Xiao Jiu, what's going on? Already bullying my sister?"

Li Ce sat beside Li Jing, setting out tea.

"When was Jiao Jiao ever your sister?"

"Since yesterday!" Li Jing answered solemnly.

"Sister, come sit with your brother."

Ye Jiao obediently sat beside him.

"No need to visit the sacred hall for trivial matters. Speak, is my elder brother here for a free meal, or something else?"

"Tch!" Li Jing scoffed, "You've learned all your tricks from Xiao Jiu, growing more cunning."

"Am I?" Li Ce asked. "If not, we're all tired today, so we'll excuse ourselves."

"Enough, enough," Li Jing pleaded, "I'll eat first, then borrow a doctor from you."

"For whom?" Ye Jiao asked cautiously, holding her tea cup.

Li Jing hesitated but confessed,

"For Xiao Yu, the fourth brother's daughter. She's ill, and the jailers found me. We're family—I can't just stand by."

Little Yu, Li Chen's three-year-old daughter, was at that fragile age when children often succumb to illness. Even the imperial family, with all its medicine, often lost children. Seeing Li Ce's expression, Li Jing patted his chest.

"Xiao Jiu, rest assured! I'll borrow a doctor, take him to see her, bring medicine inside, and keep you out of trouble."

It was clear he felt compelled to act.

"I'm not worried about myself," Li Ce said cautiously, "but I fear you might be falsely accused."

"Who cares!" Li Jing shrugged, "Li Chen deserves death, as do the Lu clan, but little Yu is only three. During the festival, I gave her protective charms; she knelt and called me Uncle Wang, wishing me health and fortune."

His voice choked with emotion. A helpless child, yet the law was ruthless; her family's treason doomed them all.

"Here's what we'll do," Li Ce declared firmly, his fingers sliding over the tea cup, "I'll use the pre-sentencing identity check as an excuse to bring the Ministry of Justice doctor inside to examine and dispense medicine. You must not visit the dungeon again today."

Li Jing was left empty-handed, while Li Ce bore full responsibility.

"That won't do," Li Jing protested, "If the Censor finds out and impeaches you..."

Li Ce smiled calmly, "Then I'll accept exile."

Li Jing snorted. So you want to leave the capital and me? Fine, if you go, so will I.

Still uneasy, he pondered quietly. Ye Jiao had already begun preparing the evening meal, instructing the servants:

"Fifth brother is here. Make his favorite dishes and bring the best wine."

Li Jing smiled broadly, nodding eagerly,

"Jiao Jiao, you may be a handful to carry, but that trip was truly worth it."

Unexpectedly, before the doctor arranged by Li Ce arrived at the dungeon that night, news came that the Wei Prince's legitimate daughter had died. As Li Ce now oversaw sentencing and imprisonment, officials reported the news to him.

Li Ce donned his robe and listened silently to the report outside the door.

"The Wei Princess was distraught and struck her head against the wall but was restrained." The official's tone brimmed with sorrow. From nobility to prison, then witnessing her daughter's death, no mother could remain composed.

Li Ce opened the door and stepped outside. The summer night buzzed with insects; fireflies danced near and away. Even in darkness, the world thrived—except a three-year-old child had perished in the dungeon.

"I understand," Li Ce said calmly.

"One more thing…" The official hesitated, "The Wei Princess wishes to see Lady Ye."

To see Ye Jiao? A cold glint flashed sharply across Li Ce's eyes in the night...