Meridian Gate was louder than usual.
When Jianyan and his escort of two inner-court guards approached, the commotion snapped into rigid silence. Guards straightened, officials stepped aside, and everyone bowed deeply.
"Qinghe Wangye!"
Jianyan nodded once, but his eyes were already fixed on the massive Mingyuan Drum.
Three fresh dents marred the lacquered surface. One dent bore a streak of dried blood.
The petitioner, Qiu Fen, lay on a stretcher nearby, surrounded by palace physicians.
Jianyan took in the scene calmly, but with the focus of a man raised among generals and ministers.
"Report," he said.
Captain Xu of the Gate Guards stepped forward.
"Wangye, the petitioner struck the drum three times. After the third strike, he collapsed forward and hit his head against the drum surface."
Jianyan knelt near the blood smear.
"Did he use the mallet?" he asked.
"Yes, Wangye."
"Then why is there blood on the drum?"
"He fell before he could step back, Wangye."
A palace physician added quietly,
"His body is weak. Malnutrition, exhaustion. The blow was severe."
Jianyan straightened. "Where is the mallet?"
A guard presented it. Jianyan examined it—rough wood, worn edges, faint dirt. Nothing unusual.
But he noticed something else.
A thin scrape on the stone, barely visible, running from the drum to the small plaza.
"Chen-daren," Jianyan said, without turning.
Footsteps approached.
Vice Minister Chen Yuantai of Dali Temple bowed deeply.
"Wangye, this humble official answers your summons."
The Dali Temple robes looked stark beneath the Gate's afternoon light—black, severe, authoritative. Behind Chen stood three Dali Temple scribes, carrying inkstones and bamboo slips.
Jianyan gestured to the scrape on the stone.
"Something was dragged."
Chen knelt beside it. His eyes sharpened. "Wangye, this looks like the mark of a document satchel. Long, rectangular."
Captain Xu one of the vice comander of palace guard, the one who guard the scene, blanched. "But, Wangye… the petitioner carried no satchel when he arrived."
Jianyan's voice remained calm.
"Which means it was taken after he collapsed. Before the guards knew what happened."
Chen nodded grimly.
"And in front of dozens of witnesses."
The crowd of minor officials began to buzz nervously.
Chen turned sharply. "Silence."
They froze.
Jianyan approached the stretcher.
Qiu Fen's eyes fluttered open. He recognized the princely robes and struggled weakly to bow.
"Wang…ye…"
Jianyan lifted a hand gently. "Lie still. Your courage brought you here. That is enough."
Qiu Fen's eyes watered. "They… changed everything, Wangye… My family's land… the prefecture—"
"Rest," Jianyan said. "Tell us only what you must. Who altered your documents?"
Qiu Fen shivered. His lips trembled.
"S…Seal… Master… Jinzhou… black sleeves… embroidered… night…"
His voice faded. He went limp again.
A physician bowed. "Wangye, his pulse is fragile. We must return him to the infirmary."
"Go," Jianyan said.
As they carried Qiu Fen away, Chen stepped closer.
"Wangye," he said quietly, "for a petitioner to strike the Mingyuan Drum with such desperation… there must be layers beneath."
Jianyan nodded. "That is why His Majesty assigned us."
Chen exhaled deeply. "This case… should not fall to a prince. But His Majesty values your clarity."
"And Dali Temple has the authority," Jianyan replied. "Benwang only assists."
Chen bowed.
"Then let us proceed together."
"Bring the petition scroll," Jianyan said.
Two guards presented it with extreme care.
Dali Temple scribes laid out a lacquer board, placed the scroll atop it, and unrolled it under afternoon light.
Chen bent over first.
Two tones of black.
Two brush pressures.
Two different handwritings.
One date overwritten.
A prefectural seal tilted clockwise by exactly three degrees.
"This is deliberate falsification," Chen murmured. "Not amateur tampering."
Jianyan looked at the seal. "Tilt consistent?"
Chen nodded slowly.
"Yes. Whoever stamped this scroll—has stamped many."
A murmur rippled through the observing officials.
Jianyan raised his voice just slightly.
"All of you witnessed the drum being struck. Did anyone see a satchel being removed?"
Everyone shook their heads.
Captain Xu said, "Wangye, all eyes were on the petitioner. It is possible someone slipped around the crowd."
Jianyan studied the plaza.
"Possible—but bold."
Chen motioned to his scribes.
"Record the seal angle, ink discoloration, overwritten date, and handwriting differences."
The scribes began writing rapidly.
---
"Bring the Gate scribes," Jianyan ordered.
Four nervous scribes knelt in a line before him.
"Which of you handled the scroll after the petitioner collapsed?" Jianyan asked.
"No one, Wangye," one stammered.
"W-we only guarded the area, Wangye," another said.
Chen Yuantai stepped forward, voice calm.
"Gate scribes, understand clearly: this scroll is evidence in a Dali Temple investigation. Touching or altering it—even mistakenly—will be interpreted as obstruction."
The scribes paled to ash.
"W-we swear, Minister Chen! None of us touched it!"
Jianyan watched their faces closely. None seemed bold enough to lie. All were terrified enough to tell the truth.
"Good," he said.
"Then someone else removed the satchel."
Sudenly a palace clerk sprinted toward them, breath sharp.
"Wangye! Minister Chen! Forgive this servant—there is a contradiction!"
Chen frowned. "Explain."
The clerk held out two sealed slips.
"The Ministry of Justice just reported that Qiu Fen's case is closed by prefectural ruling."
Jianyan's eyes narrowed.
"And the county?" he asked.
"The county archive says the case is open, Wangye. Unresolved. Still under local review."
Even Captain Xu looked horrified.
"How… how can both be true…?"
Chen's expression hardened.
"It cannot. Prefectures cannot close cases without county concurrence. Someone fabricated the closure."
Jianyan looked at both slips.
"This is not simple bribery."
Chen nodded.
"No. This is organized tampering."
Chen looked to Jianyan.
"Wangye… this case is properly under the jurisdiction of Dali Temple. But His Majesty has clearly instructed that you take part."
Jianyan nodded once.
"Benwang will not overstep Dali Temple's authority. Lead the judicial portion. Benwang will oversee what requires rank and palace access."
Chen bowed gratefully.
"Then we begin at the Ministry of Records. We must compare the original Jiangzhou transmission with the altered one."
Jianyan turned to the guards.
"Clear a path to the Ministry."
"Yes, Wangye!"
"Seal this area," Jianyan added. "No one approaches the drum or the strike stones."
"Yes, Wangye!"
Dali Temple scribes gathered their notes.
Chen folded the petition scroll into a protective bamboo case.
Jianyan gave one last look at the dried blood on the drum.
"Chen-daren," he murmured, "someone wanted this man to reach the drum… but not with all his evidence."
Chen nodded grimly.
"Then let us find who benefits most when truth disappears."