“In my humble opinion, that particular statute is already outdated. I implore the Chancellor to revise the law to preserve such a worthy talent!”
“Yes, yes! Beyond the statutes, there is heavenly reason! The Lord Chancellor’s prestige is peerless; we must not let the hearts of capable officials grow cold!”
The two elderly ministers showered him with “Your Excellency’s brilliance,” their flattery sounding crisper than clappers.
Gu Huaiyu sighed, sounding feigningly troubled. “Since both of you say so…”
“Then let it be done.”
The moment he spoke, an attendant knelt and presented brush, ink, and paper.
Zheng Huai and Zhao You actually lay flat on the floor, using the ground as a desk. With their rears in the air, they began to rewrite the law. The vermillion ink flew across the paper as they occasionally looked up to offer Gu Huaiyu fawning smiles.
“Lord Chancellor, does this revision please you?”
“I have specifically lightened the penalty and added the phrase ‘subject to extenuating circumstances’…”
The statute that originally read “officials who neglect their duty shall never be employed again” was crossed out and rewritten in a few strokes. In the blink of an eye, it became “if due to changes in popular sentiment, errors may be handled with leniency at one’s discretion.”
The blood in Nie Jin’s veins turned to ice.
The Laws of Great Chen, which should have been solemn and inviolable, were currently being treated like a courtesan’s note in a brothel—scribbled over and rewritten at whim. The backs of the ministers’ robes as they crouched on the floor made them look like two old dogs wagging their tails for scraps.
Gu Huaiyu waved a lazy hand, and the two ministers retreated with fawning smiles, clutching the revised statutes as if they had escaped a death sentence.
The moment the door closed, the room became terrifyingly quiet.
“Why is Master Nie so far from me?” Gu Huaiyu asked with the cruel amusement of a cat playing with a mouse. “You’ve already swallowed my saliva. What else is there to be disgusted by?”
Nie Jin bit his lip hard and shuffled on his knees until he was in front of Gu Huaiyu. The muscles beneath his robes ached with tension, yet he forced his spine to remain straight. “What exactly is the Lord Chancellor trying to achieve?”
Gu Huaiyu was in no hurry to answer. He folded the newly revised law into a neat square, tossed it lightly in his palm, and then leaned forward. In a gesture as light and mocking as a flirtation, he patted Nie Jin’s cheek with the paper.
“I heard that Master Nie has always regarded the Law as his Heaven?”
He leaned in closer, until his voice was a mere whisper brushing against the man’s ear.
“Then today, I shall make you understand—”
“In the court of Great Chen, I am Heaven.”
Nie Jin jerked his head up, his pupils trembling. This wasn’t just audacity; this was blatant treason!
Gu Huaiyu pulled the paper back and set it on the desk, watching the man’s shocked expression. “Did Master Nie think I didn’t know? All these years, you’ve been secretly gathering evidence of my crimes, item by item…”
He spoke casually, as if everything Nie Jin had done was beneath notice. “It is only because I appreciate your character that I have allowed you to live until now.”
Nie Jin suppressed the surging fury in his chest and slowly reached into his robes, pulling out a plain white pearl hairclip. The craftsmanship was exquisite, though it had grown dull with age.
“Does the Lord Chancellor recognize this?”
Gu Huaiyu stared at the hairclip for a moment. “I do not.”
“This originally belonged to the daughter of Minister Chen.”
Nie Jin held the hairclip in his palm, his voice as cold as iron. “Three years ago, Minister Chen of the Ministry of Revenue hung himself at home. His wife, his children, his eldest daughter, his concubine’s son, and even the cooks and doormen all vanished in a single night.”
“I found this hairclip at the Minister’s estate the following day. Minister Chen’s daughter was only fifteen. Even if Minister Chen was guilty of a slip of the tongue while drunk… tell me, Lord Chancellor, what was her crime?”
Gu Huaiyu’s expression soured, a hint of impatience surfacing. “Who said I was the one who did it? Does Master Nie have evidence?”
Nie Jin solemnly tucked the pearl hairclip back into his robes and slowly stood up. The melted snow on his robes had dried, leaving behind wrinkled streaks, yet it only made his figure appear more upright.
“The Lord Chancellor may be the Heaven of Great Chen, but beyond this Heaven—”
“There is another Heaven.”
With that, he cupped his hands in a salute, turned, and departed.
When Yun Niang entered with a basin of hot water, she saw Gu Huaiyu still sitting in his seat, looking lost in thought. She couldn’t help but ask, “What is My Lord thinking about?”
Gu Huaiyu looked up at her and beckoned her closer.
As Yun Niang approached, Gu Huaiyu gently patted her cheek. His tone carried a hint of mockery, yet also a genuine sense of wonder. “There are still people out there who remember you.”
