Chapter 492: Arrival at the Mu Estate

Wouldn't that force Grand Secretary Yang to resign and retire?

Zhu Qizhen thought of Yang Shiqi's years of diligent service, and his heart ached—he said nothing for a while.

Xue Shao swiftly caught it: seeing not triumph in his eyes, but hesitation, he lowered his gaze, concealing his disappointment.

This is a major matter—a political reform, a shift in customs—and once begun, there can be no turning back.

Reform most fears indecision and wavering; if the Emperor lacks the resolve to see it through, this matter must not proceed, or else the backlash will be dire: not only will those who proposed reform and cleansed the bureaucracy die without burial, but the commoners of Jiangnan first subjected to the changes will find their plight even more dire.

Xue Shao suppressed his disappointment, and when he looked up again, his face had returned to normal; he smiled at the Emperor: "Your Majesty possesses a benevolent heart; the three regents have all seen their terms to a good end—this is rare in all dynasties."

When the late Emperor died, the young Emperor ascended the throne at nine, entrusted to the Three Yangs.

Now, Yang Rong among the Three Yangs has passed away—he died of illness, posthumously honored as "Wen Min"; from this posthumous title alone, one can see their lord-minister bond ended well.

Even if there had been unpleasantness along the way, in history, future generations will surely praise both sides, for they fulfilled the duty of lord and minister.

The remaining Yang Shiqi and Yang Pu, though they may quarrel with the Emperor in court, have so far received no severe punishment, nor have they seized control of governance or shown any ambition to become regents.

If nothing unexpected occurs, they too will see their terms to a good end, like Yang Rong.

This is indeed rare in history.

Xue Shao roughly understood: beyond wanting to preserve this reputation, they truly felt affection for each other.

The Three Yangs were not merely regents—they were the Emperor's teachers.

Counting from when he was Crown Prince, they had served as his teachers for over a decade.

In fact, they had spent more time with the young Emperor than with their own wives and children.

Over these years of constant companionship, not only had they grown deeply attached to the Emperor, but the Emperor had grown deeply attached to them.

Though not as deep as his bond with Wang Zhen, it still carried considerable weight.

Under these circumstances, if the Emperor is heavy-hearted, he cannot muster the resolve to force Grand Secretary Yang to retire, let alone prosecute his son.

Xue Shao sighed, and as his thoughts turned, since the Emperor was heavy-hearted, then…

He changed the subject: "Your Majesty is heavy-hearted and loyal; when the sovereign leads, the ministers follow—every official and noble in court will return such loyalty and affection. The Mu family throughout history is a fine example."

Zhu Qizhen could not help but smile slightly and nodded: "Indeed. The Mu family has guarded the southwest for Great Ming generation after generation; though not of my Zhu bloodline, they are more loyal than my own blood."

How many Huangshi Sect relatives, after the reigns of Emperor Taizong, Emperor Renzong, and my father, have vanished or been reduced to idle nobles?

Yet the Mu family—originally an adopted son of the founding Emperor—has held military power continuously, and every Emperor, upon ascending, has relied upon them.

Thinking of the Mu family's loyalty, the Emperor recalled Read Mu Lin, who had grown up in the palace since childhood, then thought of his father Mu Xi, and his brow furrowed slightly.

Taking advantage of the moment, Xue Shao brought it up: "How is the Second Young Master of the Mu family doing? Has Pan Yun arrived in Yunnan yet?"

Zhu Qizhen mentally calculated the time.

A letter had just arrived today, sent three days ago by flying bird: the party had entered Yunnan; the roads there were treacherous, but in three days, they should have reached the Mu estate.

Not yet arrived—but not far.

The guide led them through a forest, ahead lay an official road wide enough for two ox-carts to pass.

Pan Yun stepped onto it, nearly in tears: "Finally, a wide official road!"

Wang Cong and the others nodded with tears in their eyes—they had never imagined they would be moved by a road wide enough for two ox-carts.

The guide chuckled beside them, addressing the dusty, grimy group: "Once you enter the city, you'll see—it's beautiful, our Fucheng."

Pan Yun nodded.

Wang Cong: "Little Master, don't nod yet—have you ever been here?"

Pan Yun: "I've been there in dreams—spring all year round, flowers like brocade, incredibly beautiful."

"Yes, yes, yes!" the guide beamed, speaking halting Mandarin: "Yunnan is beautiful—every official who's come says so."

The Embroidered Uniform Guards looked back at the road with complex expressions: "Dare we say otherwise?"

This journey had crossed mountains and rivers; leaving the capital, they still had carriages, but by the time they reached Yunnan, they had to dismantle them and travel on horseback or foot.

The distance wasn't far, yet it was unbearably hard—despite all their effort, they still covered less than fifty li a day.

Once on the official road, speed increased greatly; the group quickened their pace for seven or eight li, and finally saw the city walls.

Mu Yuan exclaimed excitedly: "Master Pan, we've arrived!"

Pan Yun also tilted his head to gaze at the distant city gate, sighing: "Truly rare…"

Someone waited at the city gate—Mu Yuan hadn't returned to Yunnan in years, or he wouldn't have needed a guide.

After all, spring in Yunnan is still dangerous.

The Mu family's men sat with the city guards; seeing a group approach along the road, leading many horses, they took notice.

The servant glanced twice, recognized the Embroidered Uniform Guards' uniforms, then recognized Mu Yuan.

He leapt up and rushed forward to embrace Mu Yuan: "We received the falcon message long ago—Your Majesty's great grace has granted us another Physician, and ordered you and the Embroidered Uniform Guards to escort him. The Left Grand Marshal long ago ordered me to wait here, but I waited and waited, and still you didn't come."

Mu Yuan said: "We should have arrived two days ago, but the bridge collapsed when we crossed the river—if not for…"

He quickly glanced at Pan Yun and the Long Hushan Daoist Priests, lowering his voice: "If not for these Daoists, half of us would've fed the fish."

The servant was astonished and opened his mouth to ask more, but Zhang Ziming interrupted impatiently: "Didn't you say Mu Xi is near death? How can you afford to idle here chatting?"

The servant's face darkened; the soldiers nearby glared at Zhang Ziming.

Zhang Ziming looked bewildered and asked the calm Pan Yun: "Did I say something wrong? Don't you suspect they're deliberately delaying to kill Mu Xi?"

Pan Yun crossed his arms: "Why rush? They haven't seen each other in years—let them catch up. Besides, if he dies, he dies. If he dies before I arrive, it has nothing to do with me."

Mu Yuan and the servant both paled; even the Mu family soldiers began to eye them suspiciously.

Mu Yuan didn't dare delay: "No more idle talk—take Master Pan to see the Left Grand Marshal at once."

The servant finally glanced at Pan Yun once, then stepped aside to invite them into the city.

Fucheng in Yunnan was indeed prosperous; houses were mostly built of stone, roads paved with blue flagstones, clean, tidy, and orderly.

Everywhere—corners of houses, both sides of the road—blossoms bloomed; vines climbed walls, covered in flowers, turning the cold stone city into a riot of color, purple and red.

Quiet yet lively, lively yet calming; vendors and pedestrians along the road wore smiles, and children chased each other through streets and alleys.

It's clear that the Mu family has governed Yunnan well.

Pan Yun glanced left and right as she walked without slowing, closely following the servant—taking in everything she should see, yet never reducing her pace.

The Mu residence lay in the southwest corner of the city, requiring passage through many streets.

Along the way, everyone stared at them curiously.

Someone seemed to have recognized the clothing on An Chen and his party; a naive child rushed out, picked up a stone, and hurled it at them—"Bad people!"

An Chen whirled around sharply.

A woman snatched the child into her arms, clamped a hand over his mouth, and struck his buttocks hard twice before kneeling to beg An Chen's forgiveness.

Pan Yun turned back, clicking her tongue twice: "Has the infamous reputation of the Embroidered Uniform Guard reached even here? Who was the last Embroidered Uniform Guard sent to Yunnan? Cao Ye?" She sized An Chen up from head to toe, then nodded. "Hmm. The clothing looks similar. Your build matches too."

An Chen's face turned black: "You're saying I resemble that Cao Ye?"

Embroidered Uniform Guard Jia, who had grown familiar with Pan Yun over this period, grinned: "Master Pan, our Chief An is a paragon of elegance—how could he possibly compare to that fat-faced Cao Ye?"

Pan Yun turned and walked away: "Children don't judge beauty or ugliness—they only recognize clothing."

An Chen made no further protest, waved to the mother and child, and hurried after her.

The group arrived at the Mu residence.

The servant told them to wait in the main hall while he went to report to the Left Grand Marshal.

An Chen frowned: "Mu Er Lao Ye's condition is urgent—why can't Master Pan see him right away?"

The servant insisted: "Er Lao Ye is now confined to a separate courtyard for treatment. To enter, you must have the Left Grand Marshal's permission."

An Chen looked at Pan Yun.

Pan Yun shrugged indifferently: "I leave it to your discretion."

Please... Your Majesty... collect_(!)

Seeing her indifferent expression, the servant's temper flared.

He turned to leave and find the Left Grand Marshal—but the moment he stepped out, a foot kicked him back violently.

His body flew backward; Pan Yun retreated three quick steps, and he crashed onto the very spot where she had just stood.

Pan Yun looked up, eyes gleaming, and met a face frozen with frost.

Both froze upon seeing each other.

Pan Yun snapped out of her shock, nodded, and smiled: "Young Master Mu."

The frost on Read Mu Lin's face vanished; he stepped forward two quick strides: "It really is you!"

He seized Pan Yun's hand: "Please, save my father!"

"Where is he?"

Read Mu Lin pulled her away: "Come with me."

Wang Cong glanced at his hand, rushed forward, and pulled them apart—one hand gripping Read Mu Lin's, the other holding Pan Yun's, exclaiming: "Come, come, let's all go together."

Read Mu Lin turned and saw him, breaking into a wide smile: "Wang Brother is here too? Quick, follow me!"

The group followed Read Mu Lin in a rush to a small courtyard in the northwest corner.

The servant who had been kicked down in the room only rose after everyone had left, rubbing his chest and gasping twice before scrambling off to find Mu Ang.

"Left Grand Marshal, the eldest son has taken the Embroidered Uniform Guard and those Daoist Priests to the small courtyard."

Mu Ang was polishing his blade; at this, he lifted his eyes and asked: "How many Daoist Priests came?"

The servant replied: "Nine in total, but the leader is an extremely young female Daoist Priest—she looks even younger than the eldest son."

"Did the Embroidered Uniform Guard come too?"

"Yes. This group is entirely from the Northern Surveillance Office."

Mu Ang fell silent for a moment, then gave a slight nod: "Good. Let them see for themselves."

"But Er Lao Ye's condition…"

"Lin'er never gives up—he's only made Er Xi suffer longer than necessary. Let him see the truth this time. Let Er Xi rest in peace sooner."

The servant bowed his head in assent, paused a moment, then ventured cautiously: "Will the Left Grand Marshal go to see for yourself?"

Mu Ang remained silent longer this time—so long the servant thought he wouldn't answer—that he finally rose, blade in hand, and said calmly: "Let's go. See for ourselves."

The small courtyard was isolated, surrounded by an empty space encircled by a ditch one meter wide and two meters deep.

But the ditch held no water—it was dry, filled with charred black ash.

As Pan Yun crossed the ditch on wooden planks, she caught a faint odor of protein—the smell of meat.

A high-protein smell.

Her step hesitated slightly; she glanced again at the ditch.

Read Mu Lin's face darkened: "It's to repel insects. Earlier, your talismans weren't enough—Father's corpse worms stirred violently, some burrowed through his skin and scattered, seeking new hosts. Grandfather ordered the ditch dug, using living people to lure the worms in, then burned them all once they entered."

Pan Yun was stunned, glancing involuntarily at Zhang Ziming.

Zhang Ziming frowned deeply—he had participated in the capture of the man infested with corpse worms and knew how agonizing it was for the worms to burst from the body. He asked: "Is Mu Xi conscious?"

Read Mu Lin: "My father is sometimes awake, sometimes unconscious."

Zhang Ziming: "When he's awake…"

"Enough," Pan Yun interrupted sharply. "We'll know when we see him."

Read Mu Lin pushed open the door.

Inside stood three strong servants, clad in armor, their faces covered with woven bamboo masks, limbs, wrists, and necks tightly wrapped.

Seeing Read Mu Lin arrive with so many people, they paused: "Eldest Young Master, these people…"

"They're here to see Father," Read Mu Lin turned and said. "Master Pan, only you and your companions enter. The rest wait outside. Though no worms are out now, you lack protection—better to keep your distance, just in case."

An Chen said flatly: "I am here on official orders. I must remain nearby to supervise. I must report to Your Majesty upon returning to the capital."

Pan Yun: "Then follow us."

She looked at the other brocade-clad guards.

They all stepped back one pace, their gazes at her and An Chen filled with fear and pleading.

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow slightly at them: "Wait outside."

An Chen agreed.

Pan Yun turned to Zhang Ziming and the other three.

Zhang Ziming urged: "Hurry up. No need to look at Zhang Weiyi and Xue Hua—let them gain some experience. As for him..."

Zhang Ziming glanced at Li Wenying. "He shouldn't be this cowardly and inept, right?"

Li Wenying walked straight past him into the room.

Wang Cong and the others would naturally enter as well—this illness is said to be the only case of its kind in the entire world.

Whether or not it can be cured, it can be recorded in the Three Pure Ones Monastery's Medical Register and Odd Events Register.

The room was cool and damp—the temperature corpse worms favored.

Around the screen, Pan Yun saw the person lying on the bed.

Mu Xi was only about thirty, clad in a plain white undergarment, pale-faced and gaunt, lying motionless; had it not been for the faint rise and fall of his chest and the barely perceptible breath from his nostrils, she would have thought him dead.

Because his body radiated corpse qi. (End of chapter)