Love Beyond the Grave

Duan Xu had anticipated that Jing Yan, the Chief Minister of the Dali Temple, would seek him out. When the invitation arrived, he simply tidied up a bit before riding to Jing Yan’s residence. As he dismounted at the gate of the Jing household, Jing Yan stood in the courtyard, clad in a wide-sleeved official robe of purple embroidered with peacock motifs, scrutinizing him with a gaze as sharp as an eagle’s—as if trying to pierce through his exterior and peer into his very soul.

Jing Yan was in his early thirties. His elder brother was the consort of the Emperor’s most beloved Princess Anle, and it was this connection that gave the Jing family the confidence to remain unaffiliated with any faction. Over the years, Jing Yan had earned a reputation as the Chief Minister of the Dali Temple for his keen insight and impartiality, overturning many cases sent by the Ministry of Justice for retrial, never once misjudging a person.

Such a gaze had seen through the hearts of countless criminals and prisoners. Duan Xu met Jing Yan’s scrutiny without flinching and bowed naturally. “Greetings, Minister Jing. This junior has come as invited.”

Their acquaintance was not deep. The last time they had met was during the Mid-Autumn Festival banquet before Duan Xu left the Southern Capital. They had played a game of chess, but the match was left unfinished when the banquet concluded. Today, Jing Yan had invited him under the pretext of completing that unfinished game.

Jing Yan gave him a long look before saying calmly, “Please, General Duan.”

They took their seats in Jing Yan’s study, where the unfinished chess game was indeed laid out on the desk, the black and white pieces arranged exactly as they had been left. At the sight of the board, Duan Xu couldn’t help but smile. It seemed Jing Yan had memorized the game long ago, genuinely intending to finish it—until the sudden emergence of the Horse Administration corruption case added another layer to their meeting.

Duan Xu placed a piece leisurely. “Minister Jing is still in official robes, so I presume you’ve just returned from the Dali Temple. Despite your busy schedule, you still remembered our game. I am truly honored.”

Jing Yan countered with a move of his own. “I’ve heard that General Duan is decisive and fearless on the battlefield, unstoppable in his valor. I once thought you were merely a civil official. Now, I must reassess my judgment.”

Duan Xu lifted his eyes to meet Jing Yan’s. “Minister Jing, why not speak plainly? Surely you didn’t invite me here just for a game of chess?”

Jing Yan cut straight to the point. “Have you heard about Sun Changde’s retraction in the Horse Administration corruption case?”

“I have.”

“He confessed that he was coerced into falsely accusing Minister Sun of the Ministry of War and Minister Li of the Court of the Imperial Stud. And the one who coerced him—he claims it was you, General Duan.”

Duan Xu’s gaze remained fixed on the chessboard. He laughed, as if finding the accusation absurd. “Me? A greenhorn who hasn’t even found his footing yet, daring to orchestrate such a scheme? He overestimates me.”

“Three days after last year’s Mid-Autumn Festival, he accidentally fell into the water while crossing Lanqing Bridge at night. You were the one who saved him.”

“That’s correct. That’s my only memory of him. Is saving a man now a crime?”

“According to him, he had prior conflicts with the Minister of the Court of the Imperial Stud and suspected the minister wanted him dead. After that incident, you used your ‘favor’ to extract information from him, coercing and bribing him to fabricate the Horse Administration corruption case and frame the Ministry of War and the Court of the Imperial Stud.”

“Preposterous. I never saw him again after that day. Does he have any evidence for these wild claims?”

Jing Yan adjusted his sleeve as he placed another piece, his tone indifferent. “Naturally, he has produced numerous letters and tokens as evidence. But they are inconsequential, for in my judgment, those pieces of evidence are forged.”Duan Xu raised an eyebrow and looked up at Jing Yan. The chessboard was a tangle of black and white, occupying most of the squares like two opposing forces locked in a struggle of mutual devouring.

Jing Yan met his gaze, his expression unchanging as he said, "Just like the key piece of evidence Sun Changde presented to accuse the Minister of the Imperial Stud of embezzlement—that ledger was also forged."

"Oh?" Duan Xu feigned surprise, as if hearing for the first time that the ledger he had forged was fake. "Sun Changde's ledger was forged too? He’s got quite the nerve."

"The ledger was forged, but not by Sun Changde. When he made the accusation, he likely believed it was genuine. There was indeed someone behind the scenes pulling the strings, providing him with so-called evidence to beat the drum and expose the case. But Sun Changde doesn’t know who that person is. Now, he’s merely following certain arrangements to shift the blame onto you," Jing Yan stated calmly.

Duan Xu’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Your insight is impeccable, sir."

Jing Yan placed a piece on the board and said evenly, "Forging a ledger is no simple matter. Several officials in the Ministry of Justice handled it without spotting any issues. When I first received it, I too believed it was real. It wasn’t until Sun Changde retracted his accusation and I scrutinized it repeatedly that I discovered the ledger was fake. Whoever created it must have seen the original and copied at least half of it verbatim."

Duan Xu’s hand, holding a chess piece, paused briefly. Jing Yan continued, "There are only two possibilities: either this person had the original ledger but, for some reason, refused to produce it and instead forged a copy. Or they had seen the original, but it was lost or destroyed, making it unusable as evidence, forcing them to fabricate one. Sun Changde’s bold retraction suggests someone confirmed the original ledger had been destroyed, giving him the confidence to do so. That points to the second scenario—the person who saw the original did so hastily, without time to take it away. Yet afterward, they managed to reproduce most of it from memory alone, indicating an extraordinary memory."

Jing Yan’s sharp gaze bore into Duan Xu’s eyes. "Last July, General Duan returned to Dài Province to pay respects to your ancestors. The Shunzhou horse farm Sun Changde exposed lies along your route home. The ledger also originated from Shunzhou. And the timing of your memorial attacking Yun and Luo Provinces aligns suspiciously well with this case."

Duan Xu burst into laughter, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Has Your Excellency also fallen for those baseless rumors, believing me to be some prodigy with a photographic memory? That’s nothing but empty praise from people currying favor with the Duan family. Memorizing half a ledger after a glance? I couldn’t possibly do that."

"Is that so?" Jing Yan placed another piece calmly. "This game was one we played over half a year ago. I reconstructed it because I drew the board as soon as I returned home that day. When you entered earlier, you seemed surprised to see the game, likely recognizing it as identical to the one from half a year ago. Yet you sat down and played without hesitation. Not only do you remember our game from half a year ago, but you also recall exactly where you intended to place your next move. With such a memory, reproducing a ledger would be child’s play, wouldn’t it?"

Duan Xu’s expression gradually darkened. He tapped the chessboard idly with a black piece before finally smiling again. "Is that all? Your Excellency’s words are pure conjecture, without a shred of evidence. What does it prove?"He bent down, rubbing the black piece in his hand as he studied the deadlocked board, and said lazily, "As Lord Jing said, apart from the witness, all the key evidence in this case turns out to be forged. And this witness keeps changing their testimony—one version today, another tomorrow. In the end, Sun Changde is merely a pawn in this game. The real players aren’t us, yet we’re still trapped within the board. The Ministry of Justice has already concluded the case, but just as it reached the Dali Court for review, the witness recanted. Isn’t it because the Ministry is under Duke Du’s influence, and Duke Pei insists on stirring up trouble outside his domain? Now the case, the witness, and the evidence are all dumped into your hands. Each side hopes you’ll use their prepared false evidence and witness to attack the other. No one cares about the truth—they only care about the outcome."

"No, I care about the truth."

"Since Lord Jing cares about the truth, do you believe the Horse Administration corruption case is real or fabricated?"

Jing Yan shook his head calmly. "There’s insufficient evidence to conclude."

Duan Xu repeated, "Insufficient evidence? So this matter will just pass like that? Great Liang has no natural pastures—every horse farm occupies farmland that could feed the people. The land needed to raise one horse could sustain twenty-five people. Three thousand horses mean seventy-five thousand lives. If the corruption is real, those seventy-five thousand livelihoods have been swallowed by greed. Yet at the frontlines, we lack warhorses, our cavalry is in disarray. We can only rely on surprise attacks, never facing the enemy head-on. Every victory is hard-won. How can we defend our homeland like this?"

Jing Yan met his gaze steadily, his deep, sharp eyes piercing straight into Duan Xu’s. The incense smoke from the burner on the table curled hazily between them as Jing Yan said slowly, "I know all this. I understand it better than you."

"I called you here today to tell you this: if we accept false evidence as truth today, anyone can fabricate it tomorrow. Where then does the truth stand? General Duan, you’re still young. You must understand—falsehoods can’t uncover truth, and unjust means can’t achieve justice. As the Chief Minister of the Dali Court, the only thing I trust is solid evidence."

A flicker passed through Duan Xu’s eyes, but he remained silent.

Solid evidence—easier said than done. The traces of this affair had been thoroughly erased. The ledger he’d painstakingly uncovered had been destroyed. To investigate now would mean starting with the Minister of War, the Chief of the Imperial Stud, or even Qin Huanda and Duke Pei behind them. Not only would it expose him, but every step would be obstructed.

"Lord Jing, can solid evidence really be found?"

"I will do my utmost to investigate. But if we can’t find it, we can’t convict based on false evidence." Jing Yan placed a piece on the board and looked up at Duan Xu. "General Duan, for someone so young navigating the court, depth of thought isn’t a bad thing. But don’t let obsession lead you astray. Today’s conversation will remain in this study. Once you leave, we’ll speak no more of it. I trust you’ll act wisely."

Duan Xu lowered his gaze briefly before meeting Jing Yan’s eyes again. He placed a piece on the board and said, "Thank you for your guidance, Lord Jing."

In the end, Jing Yan won the unfinished game. As Duan Xu took his leave, he bowed and said with a smile, "I’ve long heard of Lord Jing’s mastery of chess. Seeing it today, the reputation is well-deserved."

Jing Yan merely nodded slightly and said, "You honor me."

Duan Xu mounted his horse, holding the reins as he looked back at Jing Yan. "Lord Jing, may your governance ensure Great Liang is forever free of wrongful convictions."The words sounded like sarcasm, yet they came from the heart. The schemer paved a path woven with truth and lies, while the enforcer upheld the true law—each fulfilling their role without fault.

Jing Yan would always be the sturdiest shield, protecting the laws of Great Liang, not some individual’s unproven justice.

Duan Xu left Jing Yan’s residence but did not return home. Instead, he rode south along Shengxin Street until he stopped beside a wall the color of apricot blossoms. Beneath the upturned eaves, wind chimes tinkled merrily in the breeze, while crowds of commoners passed through the wide-open vermilion gates, their expressions reverent and joyful.

This was the Lotus Birth Pavilion of the State Preceptor’s residence.

To demonstrate his compassion and solidarity with the people, the Emperor had ordered the construction of the Lotus Birth Pavilion adjacent to the State Preceptor’s residence. It opened on the first and fifteenth days of each month, as well as during festivals. On these days, the State Preceptor—who usually only performed divinations and blessings for the imperial family—would preside within the pavilion, listening to the people’s prayers and easing their sorrows.

All commoners could enter to make their wishes, but only those chosen by the State Preceptor as "fated ones" could pose questions directly to him. It was said that the State Preceptor’s disciples would leave tokens at the homes of these chosen individuals or present them in person, inviting them into the pavilion for guidance.

Those who carried a red lotus umbrella were the fated ones.

Duan Xu retrieved the paper umbrella He Simu had given him on the streets of the Southern Capital from the bag tied to his horse. Vivid red lotuses danced across its surface.

A few days prior, during morning court, he had encountered the State Preceptor, who had casually remarked—"Fated one, won’t you come return the umbrella?"

Weighing the umbrella in his hand, Duan Xu chuckled softly and stepped through the vermilion gates.