Chapter 105: A Thousand Years in the World (Part 1)

Page 1 of 3

Deep in the mountains of Mount Song, at a secluded estate, several tiny Fulin hounds romped and leapt about the garden. Each was a single solid color—some black, some white—and they darted swiftly to and fro, leaving streaks of black or white in their wake. Every so often they yapped and whimpered, making a merry commotion. They were still puppies, their voices soft and childish, and they were utterly adorable.

A woman in red came gracefully along the garden path. The Fulin hounds circled her feet, running and wheedling for affection, yet unlike before, she did not scoop them into her arms and fuss over them. She simply continued on her way, as though she heard nothing.

She was Ruilai. From the servants attending her, she had vaguely heard that Quan Ce had been thrown into prison, but the news was uncertain. She knew neither the cause nor the circumstances, and the lack of clarity left her distraught and restless. She had no heart for anything she did. Her heart felt hollow, with nowhere to settle. She had counted the days as the sun rose and the moon fell, and at last today had arrived—the day Quan Li was due to come and attend upon her.

As her thoughts turned and twisted, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she shifted uneasily. When had she begun to care about him? And when had she stopped inquiring after news of Princess Taiping’s household?

“Bah, bah.” Ruilai secretly spat several times. That could not possibly be it. It was all a false impression. Quan Ce had saved her life, after all. She merely wished to repay his kindness.

She smoothed away the tangled thoughts in her mind. A grave expression crossed her face. Glancing up at the sun, she set off for the front courtyard. She had to learn the precise details. What crime had he committed? Could some way be found to undo the situation? Though he was still young, he was the pillar of his family. If he remained in prison for long, the household would surely become unstable.

Quan Li arrived at the estate precisely on schedule. Whenever he came, he brought Ruilai some rare and unusual gift. The several Fulin hounds from the Western Regions had been brought by him as well. This time, too, he had not come empty-handed. He had brought her a small chestnut pony, short in stature but thick-hoofed, able to climb hills and mountains as easily as though it were walking on level ground.

“This horse is called a fruit-tree pony. It comes from Silla and is exceptionally gentle and hardworking. It will serve Your Ladyship well,” Quan Li explained in his usual mild voice.

But his face could not deceive anyone. His cheeks had grown dark and gaunt, hollowed out by a full circle. He had spent his days in trade and endless social engagements, and he had once possessed the prosperous look of a well-fed man. Now even his pointed chin showed plainly.

“At a time like this, you still remember to bring me toys. I suppose I ought to thank you properly,” Ruilai said, her voice filled with complicated emotions.

“There is no need for Your Ladyship to thank me. These are all matters ordered by the First Young Lord. I am merely doing my utmost to carry them out,” Quan Li replied calmly, his tone unwavering.

Ruilai was bewildered. She had no patience for verbal fencing and asked bluntly, “Why was the First Young Lord imprisoned? Has the judgment and sentence been decided? Are the family businesses all in order?”

Quan Li fell silent. He had been ordered to look after Ruilai and had been given a separate portion of the family’s commercial affairs to manage, but he was not involved in anything else. He knew nothing of the details. All he knew was that this woman’s origins were complicated, and that she owed her life entirely to the First Young Lord’s benevolence. Yet in this world, there was no shortage of people who repaid kindness with treachery.

Ruilai smiled faintly. “You are a loyal man, and I am not a wicked one. Very well. The First Young Lord’s personal guard is called Juedi. Go and ask him to come here. I have something to say to him.”

Quan Li hesitated for a moment. “Your Ladyship’s command should naturally be obeyed, but it may have to wait a few days. Juedi accidentally offended a nobleman and was beaten with staves. He is recuperating in bed.”

Page 2 of 3

“Whom did he offend?” Ruilai sensed at once that something was amiss and pressed him immediately.

After a moment’s hesitation, Quan Li answered, “The Third Young Lord of the Nayan household, Wu Yanzhi.”

“Hmph.” Ruilai gave a cold snort and issued her orders without hesitation. “Apart from Juedi, who handles affairs at the First Young Lord’s side? Bring him to me at once.”

Also on Mount Song, Quan Yi, who was staying at Songshan Academy, received the letter and learned that Quan Ce had been imprisoned.

His expression was deeply complicated—half smiling, half weeping. He shook his head, his lips trembling as he muttered to himself, “This world… in the end, it cannot bear to let a man live…”

A trace of excitement flashed across his face. He hurried to his desk, seized his brush, and wrote a letter, then arranged for Quan Fu to deliver it to a woodcutter’s home in the mountains.

That very night, the woodcutter’s corpse was discovered at the foot of the mountain. His family had not been harmed, but the old parents, sick wife, and young daughter he had left behind huddled miserably in their thatched hut, helpless and without the faintest idea what the future held.

When Quan Yi heard the news, he went personally to offer his condolences. His compassion was deeply stirred, and he generously presented the family with a hundred strings of coins. He instructed the magistrate of Songyang County to investigate thoroughly and ensure that the murderer did not escape justice. Only after sighing over the matter at length did he depart.

That night, Quan Yi behaved like a madman, spending more than half the night exerting himself with his new favorite. As a result, he could not rise from bed early the next morning. A physician was summoned and diagnosed him with a weak constitution aggravated by exposure to wind. He was instructed to remain secluded and recuperate quietly, and not to leave the house or expose himself to the open air.

At Lijing Gate, Quan Ce’s cell lay on the third underground level, the most unbearable place of all. Yellow-brown sludge and water covered the floor. The surrounding walls were heavy with damp and thickly coated in green moss. They were slick and slimy to the touch, enough to make one’s skin crawl. Above, there was neither sun nor sky, and not the slightest ray of light could be seen. In the entire third underground level, the only somewhat bright place was the execution chamber, where flames burned without pause throughout the seasons and waves of heat struck anyone who entered.

Lijing Gate had not earned its reputation as the Execution Gate without reason. Whoever entered its doors—regardless of whether he had been wronged or truly deserved his punishment, even if he was due to be released without charge that very afternoon—would still be made to experience the instruments of torture at noon. They did not torture people to extract confessions. They tortured people simply because torture was what they did.

Quan Ce was the first exception.

The Eastern Capital Imperial Guard had arrested him during the court assembly and handed him over. Following tradition, the officers of Lijing Gate had worked him over for more than two hours. The flesh of his entire body had been ravaged in an instant. After court was dismissed, Hou Sizhi did not dare return to Lijing Gate. He went instead to Quan Ce’s office and waited there until Shangguan Wan’er brought an oral decree from Empress Wu: Quan Ce’s will was firm and could not be broken through torture. They were to attack his mind instead, and not act rashly.

Hou Sizhi acted the moment he received the order, moving with the speed of wind and lightning to rescue Quan Ce from the torture frame.

He took charge of the task of breaking Quan Ce’s spirit, unceremoniously claiming it for himself. He served him rich meats and fine delicacies to erode his will, confined him on the third underground level to torment his mind, and spoke with him each day about matters of consequence, striking at his defenses until they collapsed. It sounded quite reasonable, and the hardened officers of Lijing Gate smacked their lips and accepted their commander’s arrangement.

Page 3 of 3

“I heard some news today. Princess Gao’an of Chang’an submitted a memorial requesting permission to move to the Eastern Capital. Her Majesty has approved it.”

“The Prince of Yu has shut his doors at his residence in Mianchi and refuses all visitors. Apart from what is necessary for daily life, no one in the entire household leaves the estate. It is practically self-imposed confinement. Also, no infant’s cries have been heard from the Prince of Yu’s residence for a long time. One of his pregnant concubines accidentally fell from a building and died last night.”

Quan Ce sat upright and listened. His heart was filled with conflicting emotions. He had always thought highly of himself, believing that he was protecting the several branches of Consort Xiao’s family. In the end, he had become the one who dragged his relatives down with him.

More humiliating still, he had yet to discover who had plotted against him from behind the scenes.

Quan Ce covered his face with both hands and rubbed it forcefully twice. He seemed to be murmuring to himself, yet also asking a question.

“What of Li Ruochu? How is he?”

“He is alive, though he might as well be dead.” Hou Sizhi picked up the teapot and poured him a cup of tea. “Her Majesty showed mercy and dismissed him from office, sending him away. But the Li clan of Zhao Commandery considered him a disgrace to the family and cast him out.”

He paused, then chose his words with deliberate indirection.

“His wife and children have been scattered, his household destroyed, his family ruined.”

At this, a sharp glint flashed through Quan Ce’s eyes.

“The man who died was Fan Cilu,” Hou Sizhi continued with a sigh. “You have been in prison for only a few short days, yet the world outside has turned a thousand years.”

Quan Ce remained wooden and unmoved.

Hou Sizhi sat with him for a while before rising to leave. The great door was covered in rust. When he pulled it open, a layer of yellow-brown residue came away on his hand. He suddenly became agitated, seized a long bench, and brutally beat the guards until the blows rained down over their heads and faces.

“Do not let your thoughts run away with you. I hear that Her Majesty’s mercy was won by Princess Taiping’s appeal. There may yet be a turn in the matter.”

Hou Sizhi’s voice was hoarse. He waited for Quan Ce to look up and meet his eyes, but his wish went unanswered.