Chapter 49

Gu Lianzhao finished speaking and walked around the screen, heading straight for the door. He lifted the curtain with one hand, only to come face-to-face with Ling Qing.

Ling Qing was straightforward and carefree by nature, and her temper flared only briefly. The last time, she had been so extremely frustrated that she couldn’t help snapping at Gu Lianzhao a few times. But once that had passed—and especially after seeing Liu Yuanxun embracing him so intimately—her attitude toward Gu Lianzhao had naturally softened.

She turned to look at Gu Lianzhao and asked curiously, “Hey, Lord Gu, where are you off to?”

Gu Lianzhao tossed out his usual reply: “To train.”

His tone was as aloof as ever, but Ling Qing couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a hint of anger in his retreating back. She rubbed her nose absentmindedly and muttered under her breath, “That’s a bit odd…”

Ling Qing stepped into the room and saw Liu Yuanxun sitting on the bed, his brows slightly furrowed in thought. She asked casually, “Master, are you and Lord Gu on the outs?”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Ling Ting said as he returned from the side room, having overheard her. He immediately frowned and shot back, “Why on earth would the Master quarrel with him?”

Liu Yuanxun looked equally baffled. He knew there had been anger in Gu Lianzhao’s words just now, but after some careful reflection, he couldn’t find anything wrong with what he’d said.

Since it wasn’t his fault, he saw no need to soothe the other man.

At Ling Qing’s question, he just waved her off. “Let him do as he pleases.”

Ling Qing glanced perplexedly from Ling Ting to Liu Yuanxun, then pouted. “Fine, I won’t ask. Has the Master finished his medicine? I’m here to collect the bowl.”

Not wanting to keep her waiting—and with the medicine at just the right temperature—Liu Yuanxun braced himself against the bitterness and downed it in a few gulps.

Ling Ting promptly handed him water to rinse his mouth. Once the medicinal taste had faded, Liu Yuanxun rose to prepare for his bath.

Thanks to Gu Lianzhao’s True Qi infusions over the past few days, his energy levels were holding up decently.

But the steam from the bath could still make him dizzy, so he had Ling Ting attend him as usual.

When it came time to undress, however, he glanced down at the marks on his body. Shame flooded him, and he refused to let Ling Ting approach.

The bruises on his skin always faded far more slowly than on others—taking at least half a month to vanish completely, when most people saw theirs gone in a week.

It had been less than seven days since that night in the palace with Gu Lianzhao, so the marks were still starkly visible.

He slowly sank into the bath barrel, the warm water rising to cover his shoulders and mercifully conceal those embarrassing imprints.

That night, in the heat of the moment, he had gone with the flow—hoping to thoroughly quash his Imperial Brother’s suspicions. The timing had been perfect, so he and Gu Lianzhao had shared that intimate act…

Fortunately, Gu Lianzhao’s demeanor afterward had shown no change, so Liu Yuanxun had gradually put the matter behind him. But now, confronted with the marks again, and with his mind fogged by the steam, vague memories began to resurface…

He took a deep breath, lifted his dripping hand to cover his eyes, and forced the images from his mind.

…

After his bath, with time still early, Liu Yuanxun took a short nap. It wasn’t until dusk that he changed clothes and set out for Lamp Melody Alley, intending to meet the Ning Bi that Xiao Jinye had mentioned.

Gu Lianzhao hadn’t shown his face all afternoon. Just as Liu Yuanxun began to think he wasn’t even going to bother with official business, Gu Lianzhao reappeared—this time out of his official robes.

His expression was neutral, betraying no emotion, and aside from his damp hair, he looked much as usual.

With Gu Lianzhao present, Liu Yuanxun assumed his mood had settled. “A’Qiao, where did you go this afternoon?”

After the afternoon’s time to cool off, Gu Lianzhao had regained his composure, reverting to his usual cool and distant teenage demeanor.

“I went to the Imperial Prison to review the files on Lamp Melody Alley and Ning Bi,” he said.

Liu Yuanxun’s eyes lit up. “Tell me the details.”

Gu Lianzhao lifted the carriage curtain. “Your Highness, get in the carriage first. I’ll explain on the way.”

Liu Yuanxun nodded and boarded with his assistance.

Ling Ting watched as Gu Lianzhao effortlessly reclaimed his place at the prince’s side with just a few words, a tangle of mixed emotions churning in his chest.

Before Gu Lianzhao had appeared, Ling Ting had always believed his feelings for Liu Yuanxun were pure and genuine. He wasn’t a ger or a woman—he was a real man, one whom Liu Yuanxun would never consider romantically.

He had accepted his fate, even convincing himself to accept that Liu Yuanxun might one day marry and have children.

Yet somehow, he could tolerate the idea of Liu Yuanxun starting a family and raising heirs—he could bear to stand guard as a loyal retainer by his side for life. But ever since Gu Lianzhao entered the picture, his heart had been restless time and again, burning with jealousy.

Was it that his so-called acceptance had only ever existed in his imagination? It didn’t quite seem that way.

But when he tried to probe deeper into his own heart—to pinpoint exactly why Gu Lianzhao, of all people, provoked such envy—he found no clear answer…

Ling Ting drove the carriage absentmindedly while, inside, Liu Yuanxun and Gu Lianzhao discussed Ning Bi.

“According to Tianyong law, anyone guilty of crimes that implicate their kin faces execution if male and over ten years old; those under ten are sent to the palace. Women and ger are branded as base commoners—some become slaves, others forced into prostitution. Ning Bi was sold to a brothel ten years ago as a flower girl, implicated by her father’s crimes.”

Liu Yuanxun frowned slightly, sensing something. He ventured uncertainly, “Her father—was he also guilty of embezzlement?”

A flicker of surprise crossed Gu Lianzhao’s eyes; he hadn’t expected such keen insight. Since Liu Yuanxun had guessed that much, Gu Lianzhao rephrased his next question.

“Your Highness, care to guess where Ning Bi’s father held office?”

Gu Lianzhao’s question made it unnecessary to guess. Liu Yuanxun replied confidently, “In Jiangnan as well?”

“Yes.” Gu Lianzhao toyed with the dagger at his waist and continued, “Since Your Highness is so perceptive, why not guess his position too?”

The question seemed like searching for a needle in a haystack at first, but upon reflection, the answer was obvious.

During the Late Emperor’s reign, embezzlement cases were investigated rigorously, but punishments weren’t simply execution for all offenders.

The bureaucracy was a web of deep connections, with officials at every level dipping into public funds to some degree. Executing them all would spark panic in the court and exacerbate fiscal woes.

The wisest approach was to recover the embezzled sums and impose fines. This eased financial strain without destabilizing local economies.

In most embezzlement cases, then, officials like Xiao Jinye—who couldn’t pay up—faced the consequences, while others who settled their debts kept their lives and spared their families.

But when it came to a case severe enough to implicate three generations of kin…

Liu Yuanxun’s expression grew grave. “Could Ning Bi be Feng Yuanyuan’s daughter?”

Gu Lianzhao nodded slowly, his calm gaze holding layers of unspoken meaning.

Feng Yuanyuan had once served as Jiangnan Grain Transport Supervisor, a Fourth Rank Principal Official overseeing grain collection and transport in the region.

A key court minister, he had let greed consume him. Ignoring the laws, he abused his authority, colluding with merchants to sell off the National Treasury’s stockpiled grain for massive profits.

Jewels and gold only fueled his avarice. He falsified ledgers, passed off inferior goods as premium, and fabricated disasters to deceive the court time and again.

Over the years, he fattened his personal coffers with public grain, living in utmost extravagance—his private estate said to hold treasures piled like mountains, with even the floor bricks edged in gold.

But what made his crimes unpardonable—warranting the extermination of three generations—was a horrific natural disaster.

Ten years ago, a once-in-a-century drought struck the northwest. Fields cracked open, crops withered, and the people starved.

The court urgently ordered relief grain from Jiangnan, only to find the warehouses empty. A hundred thousand souls perished, the northwest resounding with the cries of the starving, transformed into a living hell.

Thus, Feng Yuanyuan’s scheme to peddle official grain was laid bare—but the lives of those hundred thousand could never be reclaimed.

Inspectors raiding his estate uncovered vast hoards of gold and silver, along with meticulous ledgers detailing years of embezzlement and illicit sales.

Under Tianyong law, where physical evidence trumped confessions, and with the crime’s logic airtight, the Ministry of Punishments could convict him even without his admission.

Yet could the deaths of a hundred thousand be atoned by implicating his kin? Feng Yuanyuan himself was dragged to the streets and subjected to death by a thousand cuts, drawing his final greedy breath only when the thousandth blade pierced his heart.

This embezzlement-spawned tragedy struck like a hammer, sounding the alarm for court reforms.

The Late Emperor, heartbroken, resolved to purge the bureaucracy—ushering in the three-year crackdown on corruption.

And now, the very person Xiao Jinye wanted him to find… was Feng Yuanyuan’s daughter.