Lu Bing's stroke was a top secret, concealed even from the emperor. If his in-law Yan Shifan were to find out, the matter would be like snot—unpredictable where it might be flung.
However, Yan Shifan was both a high-ranking official and an in-law. Lu Bing couldn't simply avoid him, or Yan Shifan would grow suspicious.
Lu Ying suggested, "Just say you're away on business and haven't returned yet."
Lu Bing replied, "He came straight to the Imperial Guard Office, so he must have confirmed I'm here."
Thinking quickly, Lu Ying said, "Father, why not claim you stayed up late last night, trained on the drill ground today, couldn't withstand the intense heat, and suffered heatstroke? Since this isn't something to publicize—to avoid worrying the family and the emperor—you're recuperating in the office until you recover enough to appear in public."
Lu Bing nodded, "That's a plausible explanation for my limited mobility. But this wheelchair must be hidden away—Vice Minister Yan mustn't see it."
Lu Ying said, "I'll move it to Doctor Wei's room."
Trusted aides swiftly arranged the room: two ice vats were placed to lower the temperature, with chilled mung bean soup for heat relief resting atop them. Doors and windows were shut tight, and Huoxiang Zhengqi Shui—a specialized remedy for summer ailments—was sprinkled around the room like Western perfume, releasing its distinctive medicinal scent.
Lu Bing changed into light clothing. Though the room was already cool, Lu Ying directed the guards, "Take away this string of lanterns—the room is too bright."
Lu Bing still had some facial paralysis, and dimming the lights helped conceal his lack of expression.
Wang Daxia pushed the wheelchair to Wei Caiwei's room to hide it. Upon learning Yan Shifan was coming, Wei Caiwei's heart surged with emotion: If it weren't for Yan Shifan advising Thousand Household Chen to frame an innocent man and smear her late father's name, she and her sister wouldn't have been reduced to government slaves, and her sister wouldn't have been manipulated and humiliated by that beast...
Wei Caiwei clenched her fists inside her sleeves.
She hadn't yet taken any action against Yan Shifan for two reasons. First, the gap in their status was like that between wild grass and Mount Tai—she couldn't get close to him, let alone kill him. She was too insignificant.
Second, Yan Song and Yan Shifan had controlled the court for years, causing the downfall of countless ministers and accumulating numerous enemies. There were far too many people who wanted to overthrow or even eliminate the Yan father-son duo—a minor female physician like Wei Caiwei hadn't yet earned her place among them.
Among those opponents was Lu Bing's other in-law—Grand Secretariat minister Xu Jie. The third daughter of the Lu family had married Xu Jie's son. In her previous life, it was Xu Jie who orchestrated the downfall of Chief Grand Secretary Yan Song, leading to Yan Shifan's beheading.
On the day of the execution, the streets emptied as crowds gathered. Wang Daxia and she left the palace to witness Yan Shifan's execution. Thousands of officials and commoners—all victims of the Yan family's persecution who had lost their families and homes—were present. Compared to their years of suffering, Wei Caiwei's hatred was but a drop in the ocean.
And now, reborn into this life, she was about to see him again so soon.
"Vice Minister Yan is coming. They say whenever Grand Secretary Yan hesitates on political matters, he follows Vice Minister Yan's advice." Wang Daxia rubbed his hands excitedly like a fly, then noticed her stiff expression. "Don't get too worked up. High officials are just people—not three-headed, six-armed monsters. This is a rare chance—let's peek through the window crack."
The Imperial Guard Office temporarily removed its threshold to accommodate Yan Shifan's extravagant carriage drawn by five horses—even more luxurious than Lu Bing's, with golden bridles.
The carriage stopped right at the entrance to Lu Bing's courtyard, where Lu Ying waited to greet Yan Shifan.Yan Shifan descended from the carriage with the support of two attendants. He was short and stout, with fair skin. His neck was naturally short, and combined with his plumpness, three layers of chin drooped down, completely obscuring his short neck as if he had none at all. The entire man resembled a round, pale-white glutinous rice ball.
Lu Ying thought to herself: Thankfully, my second brother-in-law doesn’t resemble his father, Vice Minister Yan, but takes after his grandfather, Grand Secretary Yan.
Yan Song had been a handsome man in his youth, and even in old age, he remained a lean and distinguished-looking elder.
As Yan Shifan stepped down from the carriage, Lu Ying approached him, performing a familial salute and addressing him with the familial title, "Uncle Yan, you’ve arrived."
By now, the sky had darkened. Yan Shifan tilted his left cheek forward, examining Lu Ying under the lantern light.
Squinting at someone was, of course, improper etiquette, but Yan Shifan suffered from weak vision in his right eye, nearly half-blind. Thus, when he looked at people, he instinctively closed his right eye and used his left eye to see.
Yan Shifan chuckled, "Oh my, it’s only been half a year, and Ying’er has grown into a... fine young man."
He had initially intended to say "young lady," but since Lu Ying was disguised as a man, her true identity as a woman could not be openly acknowledged. Instead, she was tacitly recognized as Lu Bing’s illegitimate son, Lu Ying.
Lu Ying smiled and replied, "Indeed, Uncle Yan, you grow younger by the day."
Yan Shifan had recently acquired a beautiful concubine, and in his old age, he was indulging in youthful exuberance, cherishing her dearly. Lu Ying’s words pleased him greatly. However, he hadn’t come today merely to hear flattery from a junior. He remarked, "Your father is even harder to meet than the emperor. He’s been so busy lately, he doesn’t even return home."
Yan Shifan had a face as broad as a basin and cared deeply about appearances. In the past, Lu Bing would personally greet him. Today, only a junior had come, which naturally displeased Yan Shifan.
Lu Ying maintained a smiling facade, pretending not to detect the sarcasm, and gestured invitingly, "Father has prepared fine tea, awaiting your arrival, Uncle Yan."
Yan Shifan strode into the main courtyard.
In the guest room, Wei Caiwei and Wang Daxia were both peering through a crack in the window, watching as a rotund, portly man waddled along on short legs, with Lu Ying always maintaining a respectful position half a step behind.
Wang Daxia widened his eyes and whispered, "Tsk tsk, Vice Minister Yan is truly a character straight out of a book."
Wei Caiwei observed the "rolling ball" on the path and seriously wondered if Wang Daxia had overindulged in meat at dinner, to the point where grease had clouded his vision, enabling him to utter such words. "A character from a book? Vice Minister Yan? Are you certain?"
"Character from a book" was an expression used to describe someone exceptionally handsome. Her fourteen-year-old deceased husband had been flirtatious, unrestrained, and somewhat... as they said in Tieling dialect, "cheeky." She never expected that, aside from these "outstanding" qualities, he was also blind.
Wang Daxia nodded earnestly, "Yes, Vice Minister Yan is a character from a book—almost as if Wu Dalang from Water Margin has stepped right out of the pages."
Water Margin, written in the early Ming Dynasty, had taken the Great Ming by storm. Though once banned, its popularity among officials and commoners alike could not be suppressed, and it was eventually unbanned, becoming the best-selling storybook of its time. The tales of Wu Dalang, Pan Jinlian, Wu Song, and Ximen Qing were the most widely circulated. Wu Dalang, born with deformities, short and stout, was famously known as the "Three-Inch Nail," a figure recognizable to every commoner.
Hearing this, Wei Caiwei couldn’t hold back her laughter. She leaned against the windowsill, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles. Wang Daxia’s humor had lightened her sorrow.Wang Daxia saw her shift from tension to delight and felt quite pleased with himself: I told you so, she likes a dashing, charming, witty, and handsome young man like me. How could someone as rigid and unresponsive as Lu Ying ever catch her eye?
Wang Daxia possessed an extraordinary ability to bounce back, instantly regaining his usual confidence.
Yan Shifan entered the study and nearly recoiled from the chill inside.
It was far too cold. Not only were two large vats piled high with ice like small mountains, but several additional ice basins glittered in the corners, turning the room into a veritable winter wonderland.
However, Yan Shifan, being a large man who feared heat, rather appreciated the temperature.
Lu Bing, seated in a rosewood chair, leaned on the desk and struggled to stand on his own strength. "Donglou, you've come to see me."
Standing unaided was Lu Bing's current limit; he needed support to walk, or he would collapse.
Yan Shifan, styled Donglou.
Seeing Lu Bing's sickly pallor, Yan Shifan was startled, the plump flesh of his cheeks quivering like unshaken jelly. "Donghu, what's happened to you?"
Lu Bing, styled Wenming and also known as Donghu. Because both shared the character "Dong" in their styles, Yan Shifan used "Donghu" to address his in-law, emphasizing their closeness.
"Bring tea," Lu Bing said as he sat down, sighing. "Old age is catching up. Drinking and staying up late have left me exhausted. Today, I pushed myself to drill troops under the scorching sun and ended up with heatstroke. It's not life-threatening, but I'm left weak and limp. To avoid worrying my family and His Majesty, I've kept it quiet, recuperating here at the office until I'm better."
Yan Shifan caught a faint scent of patchouli, confirming Lu Bing's story.
Lu Ying added, "Father intended to greet you at the gate, Uncle Yan, but the night is damp and hot. I advised against it and hope you'll understand."
Yan Shifan waved a hand. "Of course, health comes first. Why stand on ceremony? You're a filial child. Donghu, duties and social engagements are important, but you mustn't overexert yourself. You're only in your fifties—His Majesty needs you, and there are many years ahead. Take care of yourself. With my constitution, I avoid going out in summer for fear of heatstroke. It can be fatal."
"Your two sons, Lu Yi and Lu Cai, are still young and can't assist you yet, but your daughter—" Yan Shifan pointed at Lu Ying, "—is highly skilled in martial arts, a heroine among women, surpassing even men. Leave tasks like drilling troops to the young."
Lu Bing replied, "Understood. I won't push myself anymore. At fifty, one must accept aging."
Changing the subject, he asked, "With summer's heat, you rarely venture out, Donglou. What brings you here today?"
Yan Shifan said, "Recently, someone at court submitted a memorial pleading for Ding Rukui's innocence, seeking to overturn the case."
Ding Rukui was the perfect scapegoat Yan Shifan had found for his father, Yan Song, to take the fall. If Ding Rukui were exonerated, the guilt would fall on Yan Song.
If Yan Song fell, the entire Yan family and all their dependents would collapse—like skin perishing, leaving the hair with nowhere to attach. That was why Yan Shifan, who usually stayed indoors all summer, had braved the heat to seek out Lu Bing.
Lu Bing responded, "Ding Rukui was once Minister of War, after all. Some in court owe their positions to him and remember his kindness. Such memorials appear every year. His Majesty has consistently set them aside without action. There's no cause for concern, Donglou. Don't worry."Yan Shifan sighed, "He was sentenced to death ten years ago. He's been lucky—every annual review passes without his name being crossed by the Emperor's vermilion brush. Surviving a decade after sentencing, I fear delays may bring complications."
"It was my doing. I paid each year to bury his case file at the bottom pile, where the Emperor never reaches," Lu Bing remarked. "He's imprisoned here, aged beyond recognition—people die in various ways, not necessarily by execution."
Hinting that Ding Rukui might perish from old age in prison.
Yan Shifan lowered his voice, "Could we expedite—" He drew a finger across his throat like a blade, "People die in many ways—besides execution or old age, illness is always an option."
This was no mere illness; he was plainly urging Lu Bing to devise a method to kill Ding Rukui.
Lu Bing understood perfectly but said, "The Emperor reviews death row inmates annually yet never marks his name with vermilion ink. What does that signify? The Emperor doesn’t wish him dead. I dare not defy the Emperor’s will."
Between in-laws and the sovereign, the Emperor always prevails.
Yan Shifan pressed, "This year, there have been especially many memorials about Ding Rukui. This liability grows riskier. I believe in preparing for rain before it falls—clearing obstacles for my father. Donghu, may I see Ding Rukui in person?"
Lu Bing’s mind raced with alarm, but his expression remained unperturbed. "We’re family—such a trivial request is nothing. But the Imperial prison’s death row is foul and chaotic, unfit for your esteemed presence. I fear it might harm your noble health. Ying’er, go make arrangements at once."
Lu Ying grasped his meaning. "Yes, Father."
Lu Ying rushed to find Wei Caiwei. "Do you have a way to make a healthy person appear half-dead?"
Author’s note:
Caiwei: Since when did such requests exist?
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