Chapter 1455: The Ripples Spread

The fine horse galloped wantonly through the streets of the ward, splashing up remnants of snow, its hoofbeats rapid and carefree, until it came to a stop before the vermilion gates of the Duke of Rong's mansion.

Having long occupied a high position did not seem to have affected Zhao Kuangyin's agility—he dismounted with ease, landing with a crisp sound. Glancing down at the snow residue on the ground, he immediately said to the guards before the gate: "Have someone clear away this snow residue. My household servants have grown lazy—can't you see this mess everywhere?"

"Yes!" The guards at the gate clearly maintained a military bearing, responding with clasped hands and not a moment's hesitation, as if receiving a military order—though clearing the area was hardly their responsibility.

Zhao Kuangyin's attire did not match the winter scene—his vermilion-purple robe was somewhat gaudy, but even redder than his clothing was his wine-flushed face. He had been summoned to the palace by Emperor Liu to drink and converse, and judging by his demeanor, it had clearly been a pleasant exchange. Lately, fewer and fewer ministers could enjoy such treatment from Emperor Liu, and those qualified were gradually dwindling away.

He casually tossed his horsewhip to an attendant and strode straight back into the mansion. Just as he crossed the threshold, he saw Zhao Dezhao coming out to greet him upon hearing the news: "Father, Fourth Uncle has come to visit—he's been waiting quite a while!"

"Oh?" Zhao Kuangyin was somewhat surprised, but quickly broke into a smile and said: "Kuangmei is here! Perfect—it's been some time since we brothers have seen each other. I'll have him join me for a few more cups of wine!"

Zhao Kuangyin had once merely enjoyed good wine; now one could say he was addicted to it. His method of socializing also tended to revolve around drink—the closer the relationship, the more he drank. Knowing this fondness of Zhao Kuangyin's, Emperor Liu, besides summoning him from time to time to drink together, would also specially bestow upon him any fine wine he received, as a mark of favor and trust. Thus, the wine cellar of the Duke of Rong's mansion was hardly lacking in imperial vintage.

"Father!" Seeing the excitement on Zhao Kuangyin's face, Zhao Dezhao hesitated slightly.

"What's the matter?" Zhao Kuangyin noticed the faint hint of something hidden in Zhao Dezhao's expression.

Zhao Dezhao clasped his hands and said: "Fourth Uncle didn't come to drink with you, I'm afraid. I saw that he seemed weighed down with worries—as if he's run into some trouble!"

"What trouble?" Zhao Kuangyin's expression finally returned to composure.

Zhao Dezhao shook his head: "Fourth Uncle wouldn't say!"

"Where is he?"

"I led Fourth Uncle to the study and served him tea while we waited!"

"Let's go! Let's see!" Zhao Kuangyin quickened his pace.

Inside the mansion's study, a young man sat in silence, his posture not quite proper, exuding an air of dejection. It was Zhao Kuangyin's fourth brother, Zhao Kuangmei. His face was heavy and gloomy, vaguely distracted; the tea on the small table had long gone cold, yet he hadn't asked a servant to refill it.

Only when he heard the commotion outside did he snap back to attention, rising impatiently. Seeing Zhao Kuangyin's imposing figure, he hurried forward as if greeting a savior, and said with a hint of reverence: "Second Brother!"

The relationship among Zhao Kuangyin's brothers had always been quite good—the eldest brother was like a father, and Zhao Kuangyin was especially solicitous toward his younger brothers. Looking at Zhao Kuangmei's face, which was forcing a smile, Zhao Kuangyin nodded, sat down behind the desk, and, looking at his fourth brother who seemed at a loss, extended a hand and said in a deep voice: "Sit!"

Perhaps having found a pillar of support, Zhao Kuangmei sat a bit more steadily, though his body remained somewhat tense. Observing his behavior all the while, Zhao Kuangyin watched for a moment, then said softly: "You haven't come by the mansion in quite some time!"

Hearing this, Zhao Kuangmei opened his mouth, his face flushing slightly. Not daring to meet his brother's gaze, he hesitated for a moment, then said: "I came to see you, Second Brother!"

Taking in Zhao Kuangmei's reaction completely, Zhao Kuangyin pondered for a moment, then couldn't help shaking his head and said: "Between us brothers, there is nothing that cannot be spoken. Whatever it is, just say it directly!"

Perhaps that was exactly what Zhao Kuangmei had been waiting to hear. He grew somewhat agitated, but his face was mournful: "Second Brother, you have to help me!"

Hearing this, Zhao Kuangyin's heart sank, and he snapped: "Get to the point!"

"Second Brother, the Zhang Jin case..."

No sooner had he begun than Zhao Kuangyin glared at him, his tone severe: "You were involved in it too!"

If there was one sensational affair in the court during this twelfth month, it was none other than the great Huazhou corruption case. Though the officials involved were not of high rank, the circumstances were grave, and it was a case being personally watched by both the Emperor and the Crown Prince.

More importantly, regardless of Zhang Jin's own standing, he was nonetheless a core scion of the meritorious nobility. Though merely an insignificant Zhang Jin, it inevitably invited speculation.

For a long time, there had been the Twenty-Four Ministers before—these meritorious nobles and their descendants were all shrouded in a layer of glory, a kind of near-immunity privilege. Though not codified as explicit prerogatives, they did indeed enjoy this heavy favor.

Even if they committed some offense, so long as it was handled according to law and didn't cross the bottom line or fall into the hands of certain formidable figures, there was always room for maneuvering.

However, this seemingly unbreakable halo now appeared to be fading, losing its efficacy. Just like the Han Qingxiong case back then, this time almost everyone knew that Zhang Jin was finished—unless Emperor Liu issued a special pardon, no one could save him.

But Emperor Liu's edict had already been issued, stern and unequivocal in attitude—strict investigation and severe punishment. That man's fate was all but sealed. Zhang Jin's death might not be worth regretting, but one couldn't help feeling sympathy for one's own kind, grief for one's fellow.

And compared to Han Qingxiong, Zhang Jin's fate was perhaps even more miserable. At least Han Qingxiong's death had been granted mercy beyond the law, leaving behind a posthumous son who could inherit the title and carry on the family line.

But Zhang Jin—after the sentence was carried out, the entire political force of the Duke of Yu's branch would likely collapse and wither, until it vanished from the upper echelons of the Great Han.

This was perhaps one of the less friendly aspects of the Han peerage system established by Emperor Liu. Wang Zhang had no sons, which meant his lifetime of achievements and legacy could not be passed down—truly ending after three generations.

But no matter what, Zhang Jin was Wang Zhang's closest blood relative. Given Emperor Liu's "nostalgia for old ties," this time he showed not a trace of leniency, which inevitably made some people uneasy.

And the matter seemed not to end with Zhang Jin. The impact was expanding, the implications multiplying. What had originally been a river-works corruption case was intensifying, threatening to evolve into a large-scale campaign to purify officialdom.

Originally it had only involved the Ministry of Works, the Ministry of Revenue, and Huazhou, but one led to ten, ten led to a hundred—this anti-corruption campaign gradually expanded, its influence fermenting, more and more people implicated, more and more officials arrested.

By now, it was no longer confined to the Huazhou case. Investigations of this sort often worked that way—as interrogation and inquiry deepened, more and more related crimes were dragged out. The Ministry of Justice alone had already opened thirteen separate cases.

Some things truly were unknown until investigated—and shocking once they were. It proved that the Great Han's so-called clean governance had its limits; beneath the sunlight, there were always shadows.

And as the matter fermented, more and more people were implicated. Within the court, unease began to spread—some even feared for their own safety. A political storm triggered by corruption seemed to be surging forth.

Zhang Jin naturally had his circle, and those in his circle were, without question, mostly scions of the meritorious nobility. Now that his case had broken, it was inevitable that his friends and noble associates would be implicated—even if not in the Huazhou case, other matters would surface.

Zhao Kuangmei was a member of that circle. At first he had merely been somewhat surprised by the matter, but as the Huazhou case's influence grew, and even some noble scions were summoned by the Ministry of Justice for questioning over various incidents, Zhao Kuangmei's surprise turned to fright.

When trouble came, there was no doubt that the first person one sought help from was one's own blood brother.

The atmosphere in the study was heavy and oppressive. Zhao Kuangmei's eyes darted evasively; faced with Zhao Kuangyin's stern interrogation, he was too frightened to speak.

Seeing this, Zhao Kuangyin grew angry and said: "Let me tell you—if you're implicated in this case, then I can't save you either. You needn't come to my mansion begging for help. Go turn yourself in to the Ministry of Justice. All I can do is swallow my pride and put in a good word for you—that's all!"

"Speak!" Zhao Kuangyin said sternly, startling Zhao Kuangmei into a shudder.