Chapter Eighteen: The Interview

There were only two people in the room. One stood with his hands behind his back, facing away from the door, seemingly admiring the ancient painting hanging in the hall.

He wore a wingless black gauze cap, beneath which silver-white hair draped down. His black round-collared robe was cinched with a jade belt, and the back bore a dragon motif. The hem resembled the pleated skirt commonly seen on television depictions of imperial guards. Even from behind, he radiated a commanding aura.

Peng Lun stood at his side with hands lowered. Upon seeing Lingran enter, he turned and fixed her with a stare. “Come at once and pay your respects to Director Liu, Keeper of the Seal of the Western Bureau.”

Lingran thought to herself that her guess was indeed correct. In history, the Western Bureau was established by Emperor Xianzong of Ming, notorious for its misdeeds and swiftly abolished. But here, it was founded by Chu Liuxiang, and its true purpose remained unclear. Perhaps a fresh perspective was needed. She decided not to treat this old eunuch as she did Peng Lun, and strove to appear properly anxious and reverent as she stepped forward to pay her respects.

Liu Yongcheng slowly turned, looking down at her from a lofty height.

Lingran dared not raise her head, nor could she discern his expression.

After a long silence, he finally spoke. “So this is the daughter of Zhang Ning you mentioned? What are her strengths?”

Peng Lun clasped his hands and replied, “Director, this girl is responsible and possesses notable determination.”

As they spoke, Lingran swiftly stole a glance at Liu Yongcheng.

He looked kindly, almost like a grandfather one might meet on the street, lacking the sinister ferocity she had imagined. They say appearances reflect the heart, and Yuan’er and the others had spoken well of Liu Yongcheng’s reputation. It seemed he was not the heartless old villain she had feared.

“So frail a body, yet it’s hard to see any merit,” Liu Yongcheng commented, then continued, “Rise and speak.”

With that, he seated himself in the grand chair, lifted a porcelain cup from the table, and took a sip.

Lingran knew the director of the Western Bureau wielded immense power and quietly wondered why they seemed to pay such undue attention to her, a mere nobody. But his gentle tone dispelled much of her fear.

“This girl shows no hint of fear—your judgment appears sound,” Liu Yongcheng praised Peng Lun, and by extension, Lingran as well.

Lingran barely suppressed the urge to respond, remaining obediently upright with only a faint smile.

Liu Yongcheng’s own face softened with a smile. “What is your name?”

“Director, my name is Zhang Lingran.” Pleased with her phrasing, she felt a twinge of pride.

“What insights can you offer about matters of state? I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

She hadn’t expected this—being interviewed before undertaking such a dangerous undercover role. She wondered whether to impress him or simply make him abandon her as a pawn. Hesitating, she noticed Peng Lun watching her anxiously. A chill ran through her. “This is the Ming Dynasty; one misstep could cost me my life. Seeing how Peng Lun reveres Director Liu, he may not be as harmless as he appears. If he discards me, it may mean silencing me for good—I’d be truly wronged!”

She cleared her throat, recalling the words Peng Lun had spoken days before: “I believe loyalty to one’s sovereign and country is the foundation of humanity. With loyalty comes filial piety. The Emperor is the Son of Heaven, ordained by fate. If officials disrespect him or harbor dissent, they are guilty beyond measure! Nowadays, powerful ministers dominate the court, disregarding the Emperor; in my view, they are no better than Wang Mang or Cao Cao of the Han dynasty!”

Lingran expected Liu Yongcheng to praise her for such a firm stance, but instead he slammed the table, causing the porcelain cup to jump and ring sharply, startling her.

“A mere girl, spouting nonsense! How dare you compare Prime Minister Chu to Wang Mang or Cao Cao?” Liu Yongcheng’s eyes were hawk-like, his face fierce, as if he might strangle her then and there.

Lingran remembered the terror of being throttled when she first awoke in this world and almost changed her answer. But glimpsing Peng Lun unshaken by Liu Yongcheng’s outburst, still standing motionless, she suddenly saw through the act. With righteous resolve, she straightened her back. “My father taught me thus from childhood! If you wish to kill me for Prime Minister Chu’s favor, I will not yield. To die for justice is weightier than Mount Tai; to bow to power is the mark of a petty soul!”

Silence hung for a moment. Lingran’s heart struggled under the oppressive air, her palms slick with cold sweat.

“Hahaha! A teachable child!” Liu Yongcheng laughed, standing up, his aged face aglow.

Lingran felt cold sweat trickling down her back, but her gamble had indeed paid off.

“In that case, prepare yourself for long-term infiltration in the Prime Minister’s residence. If you slip up, do you know what must be done?”

“To die, nothing more!” Lingran answered crisply, not even frowning.

Peng Lun’s bold brows drew together as he handed over a silver bracelet.

Lingran looked at it, baffled.

Peng Lun gently twisted the bracelet, and it split in two. He then joined it again. “Inside is deadly poison—just a touch to your lips and you’ll die, painlessly. If ever you are exposed, take it.”

“Your parents and family have all been properly settled. If you perform your duties well, they will live peacefully. But if you try any tricks, don’t blame us for being merciless,” Liu Yongcheng added coldly.

Lingran accepted the bracelet, thought for a moment, then knelt. “I dare not.” Yet inwardly she breathed a sigh of relief, thinking: So there’s no mind-controlling poison after all! That makes things much easier. At the critical moment—Zhang Ning, forgive me!

Liu Yongcheng nodded and sat again. Peng Lun then carefully explained secret codes for contacting agents, emphasizing that each code must be discarded after use and replaced with a new one. Watching her put on the bracelet, they finally dismissed her.

Lingran walked a few steps, hearing Liu Yongcheng’s appraisal behind her: “A clever child. Besides, since she knows no martial arts, it won’t arouse suspicion. As long as she’s careful…”

All the way, she fingered the bracelet, uneasy at the thought of the lethal poison within, calculating that escape was now her only option. They must believe that holding her family gives them absolute confidence, never suspecting that Zhang Ning’s daughter is already but an empty shell!

If not now, then when? Lingran resolved, and after leaving the brightly lit courtyard, she walked a few steps before pausing, glancing back to check for any pursuers. All the way, she sensed not a trace behind her. Reaching an empty courtyard, she determined the path to the outer compound and extinguished her lamp.

She had just crept quietly through two sections of the residence when suddenly the sound of copper gongs erupted, flames flickered in the distance, and voices rang out clearly: “Someone has escaped! Report to the general—Princess Qianjin is fleeing!”

Lightning struck—she could not understand how her escape had been discovered so quickly. Desperate, she broke into a run, heading away from the light. She had barely gone a few steps when—bang!—she crashed solidly into a wall of flesh. The wall was unmoved, but she was thrown to the ground.

“Who’s there?” A familiar male voice called out in the darkness. A firelighter flared, revealing Peng Lun’s sharply defined face.