PCA Chapter 178

Early the next morning, Su Cen and Ning Santong sent their visiting cards to Zhang He’s residence under the pretext of a social call.

 

Whether Zhang He was willing or not, he had to give face to the Imperial Tutor’s residence. Without making them wait long, he sent someone to welcome them in, leading them to the main hall where they were served fine tea.

 

The man himself, however, took quite a while to appear. When he finally did, he looked dispirited and haggard. If not for his age, one might have thought he had been overindulging.

 

Zhang He was about the same age as the Imperial Tutor, but he dared not place himself on the same level. He could only address Ning Santong as “worthy nephew,” speaking with exceptional warmth. After exchanging pleasantries for a long while, he finally realized there was another person present and spared some attention for Su Cen.

 

Su Cen didn’t feel awkward at all. He calmly put down his teacup and smiled at Zhang He, “I’m just a clerk from the Dali Temple. Lord Zhang sent me to ask how the rat situation in your residence is coming along. Does the Dali Temple need to help further?”

 

Zhang He had huge shadows under his eyes, clearly from lack of sleep. Now he waved his hand helplessly at Su Cen, “Forget it, forget it. This is beyond your control. I’ll have to find someone else.”

 

Su Cen was surprised: “What? The rat problem still hasn’t been resolved?”

 

No matter how reluctant Zhang Jun might have been, the people from the Dali Temple had spent most of the afternoon here yesterday. Surely they couldn’t have failed to catch a few rats?

 

Zhang He opened his mouth with an expression of hesitation. Just as he was deliberating, there came some commotion from outside, and the steward entered, saying: “Master, Daoist Master Ling Xiao from Xuanqing Temple has arrived.”

 

Zhang He immediately stood up, “Please, invite him in quickly!”

 

After taking two steps, he suddenly remembered there were still two people in the hall and hastily turned back to Ning Santong: “There’s a small matter at home. Worthy nephew, please sit and enjoy your tea. I’ll be back shortly.”

 

Su Cen and Ning Santong exchanged a glance, and Ning Santong smiled: “Please go ahead, uncle.”

 

After he left, Ning Santong dropped his formal posture and leaned casually against the chair back. “Ling Xiao from Xuanqing Temple? Isn’t that a Daoist priest? Why is he inviting a Daoist to his home? Could it be that it’s not rats but ghosts haunting his house?”

 

Su Cen continued to sip his tea slowly—fine Tieguanyin tea that he probably wouldn’t have been served if not for Ning Santong’s company. He smiled lightly, “What the Dali Temple couldn’t solve, it seems Xuanqing Temple can.”

 

Ning Santong laughed: “If we tell Lord Zhang about this, he’ll surely be furious. They worked so hard for half a day, yet it doesn’t compare to a few Daoists coming to perform some rituals. If this actually works, I should quit being a coroner and find a mountain to become a hermit instead.”

 

“Did you notice the back of his neck?” Su Cen said, keeping his eyes lowered as he drank his tea. “There were a few thin red scratches, as if from something sharp.”

 

Ning Santong frowned: “Could it really be haunted?”

 

Su Cen shook his head noncommittally, but Ning Santong’s interest was piqued. He jumped up from his chair, pulling Su Cen along: “Let’s go see what’s really happening.”

 

The two of them weaved their way from the main hall to where the ritual was being performed. Since they had come without the host’s permission, they couldn’t show themselves openly and had to hide in a corner to observe.

 

In the spacious courtyard, an altar table with incense had indeed been set up. Zhang He sat solemnly to one side, while in the center, a Daoist priest wielded a long sword, dancing and chanting incantations.

 

With a sweep of the sword tip, the Daoist picked up a talisman from the table, then waved it in the wind, whereupon the talisman spontaneously combusted. The ash fell into a bowl the Daoist had prepared, which he then brought forward and handed to Zhang He.

 

“This guy has some skills,” Ning Santong whispered admiringly. “It seems he’s well-practiced in these deceptive arts.”

 

Just as he finished speaking, the Daoist suddenly turned his head in their direction, his gaze falling precisely on their position.

 

Ning Santong was startled and quickly hid behind the wall, unsure if they had been discovered.

 

After Zhang He finished drinking the “holy water,” he also looked in their direction following the Daoist’s gaze and stood up asking: “Master, what’s wrong?”

 

“No matter,” the Daoist withdrew his gaze and smiled at Zhang He. “The aura of evil in your residence is indeed strong. It will require significant effort to dispel.”

 

Zhang He hastily cupped his hands in respect: “Thank you for your trouble, Master.”

 

Having nearly been caught on the spot, Ning Santong felt a lingering fear and had to pull Su Cen back. Before leaving, Su Cen glanced back several times, feeling that the Daoist’s figure was somehow familiar, yet he couldn’t quite place it.

 

After waiting for almost half an hour, Zhang He finally returned, having changed out of the clothes that had been permeated with smoke. His complexion also looked much better. He smiled apologetically at Ning Santong: “Sorry to keep you waiting, worthy nephew.”

 

This time, Ning Santong noticed that Zhang He indeed had small scratches on the back of his neck, but he pretended not to know anything and asked: “Has something happened in your residence?”

 

“Ah,” Zhang He sighed, whispering to Ning Santong: “My home has been troubled by unclean spirits!”

 

“Unclean spirits?” Ning Santong raised an eyebrow. “Rat spirits?”

 

Zhang He tensed, looking around cautiously before carefully saying: “Indeed! Look at this—” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal small scratch marks all over his arm. The shallow ones were just thin lines, while the deeper ones showed blood. Zhang He sighed heavily again. “At night, I don’t dare to sleep. As soon as I close my eyes, I can hear those rats chattering by my ears, and they speak human language, in high-pitched voices. When I open my eyes, they disappear. If not rat spirits, what else could they be? I thought having people come to catch the rats would solve the problem, but these rats are supernatural! Last night was even worse. I truly had no other choice but to invite a Daoist master from the temple early this morning to perform rituals. I must look quite foolish to you.”

 

Su Cen, who had been silent until now, asked: “Is Lord Zhang certain that these injuries are from rats?”

 

Zhang He, who hadn’t paid much attention to Su Cen, was displeased by this young man’s sudden questioning. He frowned: “What else could they be?”

 

Su Cen smiled, holding his teacup without further comment.

 

As they were speaking, a woman entered, her figure graceful and appearing to be only around twenty years old. She carried a bowl of medicine and approached Zhang He, calling softly: “Master, it’s time for your medicine.”

 

Zhang He took the medicine bowl from her hand, not missing the opportunity to linger on her delicate hands.

 

While Zhang He was drinking his medicine, the woman’s almond-shaped eyes swept over the two men. Her gaze lingered on Su Cen, her eyebrow arching with a seductive look that gave Su Cen goosebumps.

 

Only after Zhang He finished the medicine did the woman withdraw her gaze. She took the bowl and used a silk handkerchief to wipe the corner of his mouth before gracefully departing.

 

Ning Santong couldn’t help but tease: “Uncle is indeed fortunate.”

 

Zhang He didn’t mind at all. With a smile that revealed several missing teeth, he pointed to the departing figure: “Little Butterfly was selling herself on the street to bury her father. I felt sorry for her and brought her back.”

 

Ning Santong’s mouth twitched—she certainly was pitiful.

 

Once things had settled down, they could return to the main topic. Ning Santong stated the purpose of their visit: “I’ve heard that uncle was the chief examiner for the imperial examination in the 22nd year of Yonglong. We’d like to ask about someone.”

 

Zhang He smiled proudly, lifting his chin with arrogance. Being able to preside over an imperial examination was a supreme honor, and all examinees from that year would be considered his disciples, obliged to respectfully address him as teacher. By this calculation, Zhang He could claim a nation full of students: “Just ask, nephew. No need for such formality.”

 

Ning Santong: “Tian Pingzhi, does uncle remember him?”

 

Zhang He stroked his beard and thought for a while. Among his current and former students in the official circles, there didn’t seem to be anyone named Tian. He couldn’t help but ask again: “Tian who?”

 

“Tian Pingzhi,” Su Cen said. “A candidate in the 22nd year of Yonglong who later died suddenly in the examination hall and was buried under the jujube tree behind the examination hall. Has Lord Zhang forgotten?”

 

Zhang He’s face instantly turned pale.

 

Ning Santong called “Uncle” twice before bringing him back to his senses, then smiled and continued asking: “Does uncle recall the circumstances at that time? How did Tian Pingzhi die suddenly in the examination hall? Who examined the body, and who ordered the burial?”

 

A flicker passed through Zhang He’s cloudy pupils, clearly remembering something, but his expression became increasingly troubled. Finally, he stood up abruptly and directly asked them to leave: “I’m not feeling well today. Nephew, please go back first.”

 

At this point, Ning Santong could only stand up and cup his hands in farewell, but he saw that Su Cen had no intention of leaving.

 

“Tian Pingzhi was still alive when you buried him. Did you know that?”

 

Zhang He’s hunched figure visibly stiffened.

 

“Impossible!” Zhang He exclaimed with raised arms. “He had already died when I ordered his burial! He couldn’t have been alive!”

 

Ning Santong stood frozen in place—so it was indeed Zhang He who had ordered the burial.

 

“Tian Pingzhi didn’t die from distress over being unable to answer the questions. If you had looked at his examination paper, you would have known how well he had answered,” Su Cen approached Zhang He step by step, resembling the young man who had been buried by his order many years ago. “He suffered from asthma, which already caused chest tightness and difficulty breathing, yet you ordered him to be buried! I want to ask Lord Zhang, how do you account for this living person’s life?!”

 

“Someone! Someone!” Zhang He shouted as if seeing a ghost in broad daylight. “Get these people out of here, out!”

 

With the situation having escalated to this point, it was clear they would get no more answers. Ning Santong had to pull Su Cen away first, to avoid the embarrassment of being forcibly expelled.

 

Only after leaving Zhang He’s residence did Su Cen’s expression improve somewhat. He said apologetically to Ning Santong: “Sorry for getting you thrown out with me.”

 

“It’s no matter,” Ning Santong waved dismissively. “Watching him call me ‘worthy nephew’ at his age was making me uncomfortable anyway. But I’m afraid we won’t be able to enter Zhang He’s gate so easily in the future.”

 

Su Cen lowered his eyes and sighed, “I couldn’t control myself.”

 

“Brother Su is seeking justice for someone wronged, what’s wrong with that?” Ning Santong looked back at the gates of the Zhang residence. “But can Zhang He truly be considered the murderer of Tian Pingzhi?”

 

“In Tian Pingzhi’s case, Zhang He certainly bears inescapable responsibility,” Su Cen paused, then continued: “But the real culprit is the person who put hazelnut powder in Tian Pingzhi’s food. If Tian Pingzhi hadn’t had an asthma attack, he wouldn’t have been mistaken for dead and buried alive.”

 

Ning Santong nodded, pulling Su Cen’s sleeve. “Let’s go back first. If there’s really no other way, I’ll ask my grandfather for help. No matter what, Zhang He will still have to give face to my grandfather.”

 

Su Cen never expected that a few days later he would see Zhang He again, and it would be Zhang He himself who came to their door.

 

To be precise, he came to Xingqing Palace.

 

Prince Ning had invited these old ministers to his residence to appreciate chrysanthemums. Zhang He was among the invited, while younger officials like Su Cen, Zheng Yang, and Ning Santong were called to accompany them.

 

No one dared to decline an invitation from Prince Ning. Zhang He was the last to arrive, walking with light steps, his cheeks sunken, looking even more haggard than a few days before. His loose robes and wide sleeves made him appear increasingly gaunt and weak.

 

This didn’t look like someone troubled by rat spirits, but rather like someone becoming a spirit himself.

 

Even Li Shi couldn’t help but ask, “What has happened to Minister Zhang?”

 

Naturally, Zhang He didn’t dare mention such supernatural matters in front of Li Shi, and could only evade the question by praising the chrysanthemums in Xingqing Palace. After Li Shi left, he finally let out a sigh of relief. But as he turned around, he lost his balance and nearly fell into the Dragon Pool.

 

Su Cen, quick-eyed and quick-handed, stepped forward to support him. Zhang He repeatedly thanked him, but upon recognizing who had helped him, he immediately stepped back. He had become afraid of these young people, avoiding them like snakes and scorpions, like floods and fierce beasts.

 

Su Cen, however, no longer displayed his previously imposing attitude. He was respectful and courteous, his expression gentle, as he smiled warmly at the man: “Be careful, Lord Zhang.”

 

Zhang He watched Su Cen vigilantly, and only when he saw that Su Cen made no further moves did he relax slightly. Just as he was about to leave, he heard Su Cen ask: “Does the rat spirit in Lord Zhang’s home still cause trouble frequently?”

 

Zhang He wasn’t sure what this person’s intentions were. He looked at Su Cen suspiciously, and after a long while, reluctantly nodded.

 

“I may not have a solution for spirits and monsters, but I do know a folk remedy for calming the mind and aiding sleep. I wonder if Lord Zhang would like to try it?”

 

Zhang He’s eyes brightened. He truly hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time and was genuinely interested in what Su Cen had to say. But because of the frightening things Su Cen had said previously, he hesitated to agree immediately.

 

While he was wavering, Li Shi approached from behind, pulled Su Cen toward him, but spoke to Zhang He: “What are you discussing that’s so engaging?”

 

Zhang He stared at Li Shi’s movement, momentarily stunned. The gesture was smooth and natural, appearing intimate at first glance, yet upon closer inspection seemed like mere care for a junior. Zhang He, having served as an official for many years, was highly skilled at reading facial expressions and gestures, yet he couldn’t quite determine the relationship between these two.

 

It was an undisputed fact that this young man was highly regarded by Li Shi. No wonder he had dared to be so aggressive in Zhang He’s residence that day—he had strong backing.

 

Su Cen tilted his head and smiled at Li Shi: “I was just telling Lord Zhang about my folk remedy for insomnia.”

 

“That’s indeed true,” Li Shi patted his shoulder gently. “My chronic headache was cured by Zixu. If you are troubled similarly, Lord Zhang, it might be worth trying.”

 

Su Cen smiled at Zhang He, thinking that with calming incense, there would be no one who couldn’t sleep.

 

After some hesitation, Zhang He finally relented, “Let’s give it a try then.”

 

 

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