Hot flashes

Outside the window, the night was deep.

For the next three days, Jiangling City was like a pot of water about to boil.

After news of Zheng Mingyi's house arrest spread, the Xie family was the first to make a move. Xie Xun returned home and did not visit again, but the Xie family's stewards traveled to every prominent household in Jiangling City.

Then came the Wang family. Then the Zhang family. Then the Zhao family.

On the third day, the entrance to Zhou Heng's post station was filled with carriages and horses.

One group of people after another came to the door, some pleading, some persuading, some probing, and some threatening. Some greeted us with smiles, some were sarcastic, some beat around the bush, and some got straight to the point.

Zhou Heng met with some and declined others. Of those he met, he only said one thing: "The case is under investigation. Once it's cleared up, the sentence will be handed down accordingly."

Among those who were pushed, he couldn't even be bothered to say that.

On the third night, when Chen Shen came in to report, his face was very grim.

"Young master, several powerful clans in Jiangling City have jointly submitted a memorial to the capital."

Zhou Heng was looking at the account book when he heard this and looked up.

"What folding?"

"The memorial impeaching you," Chen Shen said, "accuses you of abusing your power, arbitrarily detaining court officials, intending to extract a confession through torture, and settling personal scores."

Zhou Heng nodded.

"Furthermore," Chen Shen continued, "the Xie family sent word that Zheng Mingyi's health has been poor recently, and if he continues to be imprisoned, something might happen to him..."

He paused, then didn't continue.

Zhou Heng finished for him: "If anything happens to you, it'll be because I forced you to your death, right?"

Chen Shen nodded.

Zhou Heng smiled.

"Young Master," Chen Shen asked, "what do you plan to do?"

Zhou Heng did not answer.

He lowered his head and continued looking at the ledger.

On the fourth day, Zhou Heng went to the government office.

Zheng Mingyi was locked in a small hut in the backyard. He had lost weight in the three days since they last met, his eyes were dark, and the fear in them was impossible to hide. But when he saw Zhou Heng enter, he forced a smile.

"Lord Zhou, you've finally arrived. I've been imprisoned for three days and still don't know what crime I've committed—"

Zhou Heng sat down in front of him.

"Judge Zheng," he said, "did you kill that peddler?"

Zheng Mingyi smiled.

"Lord Zhou, you can't say such things lightly. How could I, a high-ranking official of the imperial court, kill a peddler who roams the streets? The peddler's death has absolutely nothing to do with me—"

Zhou Heng took the note out of his pocket and placed it in front of him.

"This is your handwriting."

Zheng Mingyi looked at the note, his expression changed, and then he argued, "Yes, this is my handwriting. But what does this note prove? Perhaps I wrote it casually, and somehow it ended up in that peddler's hands—"

Zhou Heng then took out something else.

It is a confession.

When Zheng Mingyi saw the confession, his expression changed completely.

Those were the confessions of his men—the ones who killed for him, set fires for him, and dealt with "trouble" for him. They confessed. They confessed everything.

Zhou Heng looked into his eyes.

"Judge Zheng," he said, "why did you kill that peddler?"

Zheng Mingyi's face flushed red, then turned pale. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but couldn't utter a word.

Zhou Heng waited for him for a while.

Then he stood up and walked outside.

"Lord Zhou!" Zheng Mingyi lunged forward to pull him away, but was stopped by the guards at the door. He shouted at Zhou Heng's retreating figure through the guards, "You wouldn't dare kill me! You know who's behind me! If you kill me, you won't survive either!"

Zhou Heng stopped in his tracks.

He turned around and looked at Zheng Mingyi.

"Judge Zheng," he said, "do you think I'm afraid?"

He turned and walked out.

Zheng Mingyi stood there, trembling all over.

When Zhou Heng returned to the post station, several more cars were parked at the entrance.

The people who came this time were several unfamiliar faces, dressed plainly but with an extraordinary air about them. The one in the lead was in his forties, with a thin face, three long wisps of beard under his chin, and wearing a slightly worn blue robe.

Chen Shen whispered in his ear, "From the capital. From the Shen family."

Zhou Heng paused for a moment, then resumed his normal pace.

He walked over and bowed with his hands clasped in greeting.

The Shen family returned the greeting with great courtesy.

"Lord Zhou," the man said, "I am Shen Qing, a cousin of Prime Minister Shen. I apologize for my intrusion in visiting you."

Zhou Heng said, "Mr. Shen, you're too kind. Please."

The two entered the inn and took their seats as host and guest. After the tea was served, Shen Qing took a sip, put down the teacup, and looked at Zhou Heng.

"Lord Zhou," he said, "I'm here to deliver a message on behalf of Minister Shen."

Zhou Heng remained silent.

Shen Qing continued, "Prime Minister Shen said he had heard about Zheng Mingyi's matter. Zheng Mingyi deserved to die; Prime Minister Shen had no objection to that. But Prime Minister Shen would like to ask Lord Zhou one question: What happens after he is killed?"

Zhou Heng looked at him.

Shen Qing's gaze was deep.

"Has Lord Zhou found out who's behind Zheng Mingyi? If so, does he dare to take action? And if he does, can he walk away unscathed?"

He paused, then spoke even softer.

"Minister Shen said that Lord Zhou is a wise man. A wise man should know when to stop."

The room was quiet for a moment.

Zhou Heng picked up the teacup, took a slow sip, and put it down.

He looked at Shen Qing with a calm gaze.

"Mr. Shen," he said, "I appreciate your kindness, but I'd like to ask you a question—"

He paused.

"When Zheng Liushi and Zhaodi died, did Prime Minister Shen ever consider the meaning of 'knowing when to stop'?"

Shen Qing's expression changed.

Zhou Heng stood up.

"Mr. Shen, please leave," he said. "Tell Prime Minister Shen that I'm going to kill Zheng Mingyi."

Shen Qing looked at him with a complicated expression.

Then he stood up, cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, and turned to leave.

The door closed.

Chen Shen entered from outside and whispered, "Young Master, it's the Shen family—"

"I know," Zhou Heng interrupted him.

He walked back to the desk and sat down.

Then he picked up a pen and wrote a command.

Execution.

Tomorrow at noon.

The vegetable market entrance in the west of Jiangling City.