Chapter 6: Jinling Prefect

Zhao Qin knew that when the court exiled prisoners, there was a route that passed by the foot of Shenxian Mountain. The little girl in the prison uniform in front of her must be one of those exiles. She didn’t know how the girl had escaped the watchful eyes of her escorts, but she was certain that if she sent her back, the government would undoubtedly capture her again, and out of ten chances, she would be sent to the Jiaofang Division—a place where official prostitutes were raised.

Zhao Qin made the decision almost without hesitation. She looked at the timid little girl and smiled softly. “Are you full? I have something else to eat. Would you like some?”

She didn’t have many things in the cave—just some books, an oil lamp, a knife stolen from the Taoist kitchen, and some spices. The only thing the little girl had stolen was the whole grain pancake she had brought with her. The pancake was dry and astringent, scratching her throat. Zhao Qin had taken two bites before she couldn’t swallow it anymore and threw it away in the cave. Unexpectedly, the hungry little girl had devoured the remnants, leaving only a few crumbs.

The little girl looked a bit dazed, not very clever, and when Zhao Qin asked her questions, she just stared blankly, reminiscent of the little rabbit Zhao Qin had encountered last time. But she was determined to help.

She coaxed gently, “You wait here obediently; I’ll get you more food, okay?”

She touched the little girl’s cheek. The girl didn’t flinch; perhaps because Zhao Qin’s hands were warm, she leaned in, nudging her face against Zhao Qin’s palm. This simple gesture filled Zhao Qin’s heart with inexplicable joy.

Zhao Qin used her lightness of foot to return to the Immortal View. There was no one in the kitchen, but the steamed buns were warm on the stove. She took two in her arms, remembering the coldness she had felt when she touched the little girl’s cheeks. She also packed a few pieces of clothing she didn’t wear often and took them back to the cave.

When she returned, the little girl was still in the same spot, sitting obediently with her big black eyes fixed on the entrance of the cave. Zhao Qin felt a sense of anticipation for the first time.

She handed the hot buns to the little girl and let her drink two mouthfuls of hot millet porridge from the water sac. Regardless of the little girl’s small size, she devoured the two steamed buns, each as big as an adult’s fist, one bite after another, until her belly bulged. Zhao Qin couldn’t help but touch it, and she heard the little girl giggle.

“Does it hurt?” Zhao Qin asked.

“It hurts,” the little girl replied.

Zhao Qin asked again, “How long has it been since you last ate?”

The little girl shook her head; she didn’t remember.

Zhao Qin picked her up and said, “Come on, I’ll take you to bathe.”

Outside the cave, there was a gurgling stream nearby. The water on Shenxian Mountain gushed from the ground, and even in summer, the spring water was icy cold. But the little girl was very good; when Zhao Qin bathed her, she obediently let her take off her clothes.

As the cold water poured over her, the little girl shivered but looked at Zhao Qin trustingly with her jewel-like eyes. Her skin was very white and delicate, her hands and feet tender, resembling a pampered child.

Ordinary families couldn’t raise such a girl, and those who were exiled must have committed serious crimes. The most glaring aspect was the scars on her body. Some were clearly from branches and leaves, scattered across her arms and calves, while others were whip marks, likely from the cruel treatment of her escorts. Zhao Qin couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cruel to such a small child.

As Zhao Qin’s fingers brushed over the scars, a sense of killing intent surged within her for the first time.

The little girl spoke very few words. When asked her name, she would stutter and not respond. When asked about her parents, she would show signs of distress. Occasionally, she would manage to utter a word, giving Zhao Qin a glimmer of hope that her words were not in vain.

Zhao Qin didn’t dare to bring the girl back to the Taoist temple, so she kept her in the cave. She stole bedding, clothes, and even a wooden tub for bathing. Zhao Qin, who usually fumbled with her own hair, clumsily learned to tie the little girl’s hair.

She would pick flowers in the mountains and place them in the gaps of the cave. She caught a snow-white rabbit and let the girl pet its soft fur. She would sneak out in the middle of the night, and the girl in the cave would lift the quilt, waiting for her to return so they could sleep together.

That was probably the happiest time in Zhao Qin’s life.

…

The prefect of Jinling, surnamed Zhang, was the top scholar of the 37th year and was deeply trusted by the emperor and the current sage. Twenty years ago, he had galloped triumphantly through the spring breeze, and the young talent who once admired the flowers of Chang’an was now an old man over fifty. He had governed the rich and beautiful Jinling City for six full years and enjoyed six years of peace.

As an old man, his energy was far less than when he was young. After turning fifty last year, he could feel his life fading quickly, as if the toll of death was ringing in his ears, constantly urging him to move forward. He often woke from dreams, haunted by many bloody faces and visions of his own death.

“Master, did you have a nightmare again?”

Noticing that her husband had suddenly sat up, the prefect’s wife, who had always been asleep, opened her eyes in a daze. She sat up, went to the table, poured a cup of tea, and handed it to Zhang Zhifu.

“Master, drink some water and take a moment.”

The cold tea slid down his throat, and Zhang Zhifu’s tense expression finally eased a bit.

He said to his wife, “You don’t have to be busy. Come back to sleep; I’ll go to the study for a while.”

The madam picked up her clothes, shook them out, and said, “Then I will put on your clothes, Master. The night is heavy; be careful of the cold.”

After getting dressed, Zhang Zhifu touched his wife’s hand and said with emotion, “If I have a wife like this, what more could a husband ask for?”

The prefect’s wife chuckled softly, a shy look on her face. She whispered, “Master, as a parent official, you are dedicated to your responsibilities, working day and night. I have no ability to share your troubles, and I can’t understand your distress. I can only take care of your household and your health, doing what a wife should do.”

After talking with his wife for a while, Zhang Zhifu opened the door of the room and walked toward the study with a lantern. It’s no wonder people say he is incorruptible; he has served as an official for many years. Prefect Zhang lived in a mansion issued by the court, with three daughters and two concubines sent by Shangguan, along with three or five servants.

Even when the prefect went out late at night, there was no one to serve him.

He walked through the courtyard gate, crossed the promenade, and soon arrived at the study in the front yard. Just as he was about to enter, he suddenly heard a rustling sound.

Zhang Zhifu’s nerves tightened.

He shouted angrily, “Who is there?”

Chu Baige was so startled that he almost twisted his ankle. He couldn’t understand why, no matter how much Prefect Zhang loved the people like his own children, he would be awake in the middle of the night, running out to work again. Was it because he was too old to satisfy his wife at home and had been kicked out?

Chu Baige thought maliciously but slowly turned and slipped out of the study window.

At the same time, Zhang Zhifu opened the door, and Chu Baige gently closed the window behind him. The sound of the window closing was masked by the sound of the door opening. The prefect Zhang looked into the dark study, paused for a moment, and walked in with his lantern.

He lit the candles in the study with the flame from the lantern. As the candles flickered to life, everything in the room became visible.

The bookshelves were filled with all kinds of books and documents, stacked haphazardly, clearly having been flipped through frequently.

Zhang Zhifu sat at the desk, reached under it, and felt a piece of snow-white hair. He breathed a sigh of relief.

All of this was witnessed by Shen Fu, who was squatting on the beams of the room.

…

The next morning, Chu Baige knocked on Shen Fu’s door.

Bang bang bang—”Shen Fu! Open the door, Shen Fu! Why don’t you dare to open the door?”

With a creak, the door opened. Leaning against the door, Chu Baige staggered inside.

“Ouch—” He fell to the ground, face down, clutching his sore nose as he got up, complaining, “You really are a pain in the neck. You should let those who call you chivalrous see what a terrible person Shen Shuangdao is!”

Shen Fu was eating the steamed buns sent by the innkeeper, enjoying a crisp and refreshing side dish with her chopsticks, chewing contentedly. “The false name is spread by outsiders. You can go and get a dozen people to see what my Shen Shuangdao looks like, but the condition is that the money cannot be less.”

Chu Baige spat at her.

He sat down, took a bun, and gnawed at it, asking, “You didn’t come back in the middle of the night yesterday, but you found something good. Is it true that the prefect you mentioned is really a hypocrite with a good face but a beast inside, like you said?”

Shen Fu kicked his stool. “Go and close the door.”

Seeing that she had something to say, Chu Baige quickly went to close the door. He poured a cup of hot tea for Shen Fu and served it with a curious expression.

“I really didn’t find any gold or silver jewelry,” Shen Fu said.

“Hey.” Chu Baige sighed suddenly, showing a disappointed expression.

Shen Fu slowly continued, “…but I found a ledger.”

Chu Baige’s eyes lit up. “What ledger?”

Shen Fu didn’t directly reveal the mystery. Instead, she changed the subject and suddenly asked, “Do you know the average land per capita for the people of Jinling?”

Chu Baige patted his thigh. “I know this.”

“A Ding male over twenty is granted a hundred acres of land, of which twenty are Yongye fields, which can be passed down from generation to generation, inherited by their descendants. The other eighty are divided fields, which revert to the court upon death.”

He came from a family and still remembered this basic common sense.

Shen Fu’s expression suddenly turned cold and stern. “Then do you know that outside Jinling City, there are poor peasants who have worked hard for a year but have no harvest? A family of three, unclothed, can’t even eat enough!”

Chu Baige murmured, “…Why, why?”

“It’s the incorruptible prefect in your mouth, secretly buying and selling land, selling the land that belongs to the people, and selling it to the wealthy, leaving the common folk with no land to cultivate and no food to eat. They have to become tenant farmers, squeezed by the landlords. It’s their own land! According to the laws of Zhao, the harvest on an acre of land only needs to be handed over in three layers, keeping seven for themselves. Now, after a good year with smooth weather and abundant grain, they have to sell their sons and daughters just to get enough food and clothing!”

“Do you think the official with the surname Zhang is good or bad?”

Chu Baige wanted to defend him. “But my father…”

Shen Fu looked at him and said calmly: “Your Chu family is also a noble family.”

Chu Baige fell silent.

—