Hot flashes

Cui Yin was in his study. He was not asleep, nor could he sleep. News from Jiangnan kept coming back, each one like a dull knife sawing at his heart.

Han Zhang surrounded the Cui family's money shop in Songjiang—those shops, estates, and fortified villages were the wealth accumulated by the Cui family over generations, and the foundation of the Cui family in Jiangnan.

Cui Yin took the letter, opened it, and held it close to the candlelight. The letter was short, with only a few lines of text, written in Shen Duan's handwriting—strong and vigorous strokes, each character as if carved with a knife.

After he finished reading it, he brought the letter close to the candlelight. The flame licked the edge of the paper, causing it to curl up, turn black, become brittle, and finally turn into ashes. The ashes fell into the teacup beside him, floating on the cooled tea like a small piece of black duckweed.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened his eyes and called over the steward who was waiting outside the door.

"Go and invite Lord Lu and Lord Zheng here," he said. "Tell them that you have important matters to discuss."

The head of the Lu family in Jiangbei is named Lu Yuan, Lu Jing's cousin. He is in his early fifties, with a thin face and refined manners. He looks like a scholar who is indifferent to worldly affairs, but when his eyes occasionally sweep over people, they can send chills down one's spine.

The head of the Zheng family in Jiangbei was named Zheng Yun. He was a few years younger than Cui Yin, in his forties. He was big and burly, looking like a warrior, but he was more meticulous than anyone else.

They arrived very quickly.

They also received news from the Shen family.

They were already restless. When Han Zhang seized Cui's money shop in Songjiang, Zheng's businesses in Songjiang were also affected. Several shops were sealed off, account books were moved away, and managers were taken away for questioning.

Zheng Yun looked very unpleasant. He didn't even greet anyone when he entered the room. He plopped down in a chair, picked up a teacup, and took a big gulp, not caring whether the tea was hot or cold.

Lu Yuan was more composed than him.

The three of them sat there, and Cui Yin spoke first.

"When the Shen family first proposed this plan, all of our families agreed. But things have changed so much in the last few years, and we never expected it would actually come in handy."

Zheng Yun spoke, his voice a little dry: "Is that person reliable?"

"Shen Shiyu is watching," Cui Yin said. "The Shen family won't make any mistakes in this matter."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Besides, what we need is not what he can do. He is a descendant of the previous dynasty's royal family. With him around, we are not fighting a rebellion, but rather purging the court of corrupt officials."

Lu Yuan's hand, which was twirling his beard, moved again, twirling it a few times.

"Okay." Lu Yuan nodded first.

Zheng Yun looked at Cui Yin, then at Lu Yuan.

He thought of the shops in Songjiang that had been sealed off, and the managers who had been taken away. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles cracked.

"Fine," he said, the word squeezed out between his teeth, carrying an uncontrollable fierceness.

Cui Yin nodded.

"Go back and prepare yourselves," Cui Yin said. "Wait for news from the Shen family."

That night, Cui Yin sat alone in his study until dawn.

He knew that once he took this step, there would be no turning back.

Treason is a heinous crime punishable by the extermination of nine generations of one's family. If successful, the Cui family might be able to continue its glory for another hundred years; if it fails, all hundreds of members of the Cui family, from top to bottom, from the old to the young, even infants in swaddling clothes, will not survive.

But he had no other choice.

As dawn approached, he stood up, walked to the window, and opened it.

The snow has stopped, and the yard is covered with a thick layer of white, enveloping everything in a pure, false tranquility.

The rooftops, treetops, and walls in the distance were covered in snow, gleaming with a faint blue light in the morning glow, like a watercolor painting that hadn't quite dried yet.

He stood there, looking at the vast white world, and suddenly remembered something from many years ago.

At that time, he was still young, and the Cui family was at its peak. One-third of the fertile land in the seven prefectures of Jiangnan belonged to the Cui family, half of the salt, iron and canal transport in Jiangbei was controlled by the Cui family, and most of the officials in the court were protégés of the Cui family.

At that time, he thought that the Cui family would continue like this forever, generation after generation, without end.

He was wrong. Nothing in this world lasts forever.