Chapter 61

As soon as Ling Qing arrived, Gu Lianzhao claimed he needed to practice his martial arts and made an excuse to head to the backyard.

Broom Tail was dozing in its wooden hut when it heard its master’s movements. It butted open the deerskin curtain with its head and came rushing out, bounding straight into Gu Lianzhao’s arms.

Gu Lianzhao wasn’t in the mood to play with it. He gave its head a rub before pushing Broom Tail aside and beginning his knife practice.

It was less practice and more like venting his frustrations. The long blade hacked wildly without any form or pattern, while stray bursts of true qi rampaged through the air around him, mirroring the pent-up emotions churning in his chest with nowhere to go.

Broom Tail squatted in the corner of the backyard, cocking its head curiously to one side, its brown eyes full of confusion. The little dog couldn’t comprehend the complexities of human emotions; it only knew that today’s Gu Lianzhao was very different from usual.

Nor was Broom Tail the only one who thought so—Gu Lianzhao knew full well that something was wrong with him.

He felt trapped in a vicious cycle named Liu Yuanxun, unable to find a way out. He tried to break free, but something in the loop kept dragging him back. Just when he wanted to dive in deeper, an invisible barrier repelled him.

Caught in this dilemma, he circled endlessly through his moods like a madman prone to sudden rages. One moment he steeled his resolve; the next, it softened against his will. But no sooner had that tenderness taken root in his heart than the flimsy illusion built on lies leaped up to remind him: You have no right to choose.

Round and round he went in that loop, unable to find an exit.

He knew exactly what held him captive.

On the scales of his heart, Liu Yuanxun sat on one side and he himself on the other. Unable to let go of either, he couldn’t make a decision.

How he longed for Liu Yuanxun to show him the way—even a hint of favoritism, a touch of special treatment, or some tangible affection he could hold in his hands… Any of that would be enough to make him take a step toward Liu Yuanxun.

It didn’t have to be devotion strong enough to lay down his life for the man. Just something to give him the courage to open his heart a little.

No one had ever given him anything unconditionally in his life, so he had grown accustomed to stealing, snatching, and deceiving to get what he wanted. Only when something was firmly in his grasp did he dare let it into his heart.

Yet Liu Yuanxun merely looked at him with innocent gentleness, those soft, water-like eyes conveying a simple message: In my heart, you’re no different from anyone else. Whether you treat me well or poorly, it doesn’t matter to me.

He had once knelt before Liu Yuanxun’s half-naked body, convinced that carnal desire was his escape. But then Liu Yuanxun, marked with ambiguous red traces on his skin, had called his name right when his lust was at its peak.

In that instant, it was as if lightning had struck him, a jolt of numbness racing from his tailbone to the top of his skull. That swift, intense pleasure crushed his surging desire in a heartbeat. A single call of his name, and he had discovered something even more intoxicating than the flesh.

Even now…

Even after all the back-and-forth—making decisions, overturning them, persuading himself otherwise, steeling his resolve again, only to doubt it once more—he finally understood.

Before he could figure out whether it was Liu Yuanxun’s allure that had first stirred his desires, drawing him into that intoxicating gentleness, or whether the gentleness had blinded him first, leading him to crave the man’s physical beauty… he realized one undeniable truth.

All the excuses and rationalizations in the world couldn’t hide it: his heart had been thrown into chaos by Liu Yuanxun.

In that very moment, as awareness dawned that his feelings for Liu Yuanxun went far beyond mere lust, a primal fear gripped him.

His blade, his martial prowess, and the once-impenetrable fortress of his heart had always been his sturdiest armor. But now someone was tickling him from outside that armor with a feather, stroking his sinews soft and intoxicating his soul—yet all with an air of careless innocence.

“Why don’t you blame me? Why do you always forgive me?”

“Because you’re not wrong. There’s no reason for me to blame you.”

Liu Yuanxun had made his stance crystal clear: there was not a trace of romantic desire in his heart.

The instant Gu Lianzhao faced this truth, he stumbled into an abyss of emptiness.

Footsteps sounded from the front courtyard—Ling Ting, no doubt, bringing Liu Yuanxun’s medicine.

After taking the medicine, the three of them headed together to the study.

Only when the footsteps had faded into the distance did Gu Lianzhao sheathe his long blade with a flip of his hand. He stood there dejectedly, frozen in place.

He remained like that, staring blankly, for a very long time.

So long that the sun climbed high overhead, past mealtime, and still he stood motionless, as if under a paralysis spell.

Winter gripped the world outside, with howling cold winds battering him. Without circulating his true qi, the icy gusts had thoroughly chilled him to the bone, but that biting cold paled in comparison to the frost in his heart.

…

Liu Yuanxun didn’t want Ling Qing to notice his fatigue, so he used the press of time as an excuse to sketch her likeness in simple ink strokes. Even so, it took him the better part of an hour for the ink to dry, leaving his wrist too sore to move.

Just as he thought to rest, a servant came to report that men from the Capital Prefecture Yamen sought an audience.

The yamen handled countless minor matters, but for them to come straight to his residence meant something important.

Liu Yuanxun straightened up and raised a hand. “Invite them to the study.”

Four men entered, led by an officer from the Capital Prefecture Yamen, followed by two yamen attendants carrying a stretcher draped in white cloth. Beneath it lay a body.

The lead officer wasted no words. After bowing upon entry, he pulled back the cloth. The corpse had already been examined, stripped of clothing to reveal distinctly female features. Her face, however, was hacked to pieces—no father could identify her like that.

Ling Qing was fearless, her eyes wide as saucers. Had the setting been different, she might have vaulted the desk for a closer look.

Ling Ting instinctively reached to cover Liu Yuanxun’s eyes, but Liu Yuanxun gently brushed his hand aside. “It’s fine,” he murmured.

There weren’t many women connected to him, and for the yamen to deliver her corpse here personally, it could only be that one.

Liu Yuanxun understood at once. “Is this the woman who lured Feng Hu to assassinate me?”

The officer in the blue robe cupped his fists. “Replying to Your Highness, yes, it is she.”

“Upon receiving the imperial order, this subordinate immediately dispatched men to investigate. It happened that the Embroidered Uniform Guard brothers were also pursuing her; they had gathered considerable leads. Combining forces, we uncovered her hiding place. Unfortunately, she had been dead for some time, though the freezing cold preserved the body from decay.”

For them to come to him directly, they must have nearly unraveled her background. Liu Yuanxun said nothing, waiting for the officer to continue.

“Her hideout was extremely remote, just beyond the city outskirts in a spot where hunters rested. The Embroidered Uniform Guard followed numerous clues and questioned many people to piece together what happened.”

Liu Yuanxun nodded. “Tell me in detail.”

“Feng Hu must have encountered her by chance while out shopping. Witnesses said she was knocked down hard and couldn’t stand; Feng Hu carried her back to her place. Afterward, he repeatedly left the prince’s residence to visit her, even spending a fortune on expensive jewelry—which we found in her vanity.”

“Her face is ruined now, so we couldn’t confirm if she was the same woman. Fortunately, the Embroidered Uniform Guard has experts in forensic sketching. One felt her skull and reconstructed her features with great accuracy. We then had eyewitnesses to the collision identify her, confirming it was the same person.”

For Feng Hu to hate him so deeply that he risked his life to kill, this woman must have been exceptionally cunning. But with both dead, how exactly she had incited Feng Hu remained a mystery.

The deeper the case went, the more bodies piled up, reminding Liu Yuanxun of his conversation with Xiao Jinye in the Imperial Prison. It was that “interrogation of the heart” that allowed him now to face her corpse without a flicker of self-doubt.

Liu Yuanxun looked at the officer. “Any other leads?”

“According to the coroner, she hanged herself after Feng Hu’s failed assassination. The facial wounds were inflicted postmortem—likely by an accomplice.”

That aligned with his expectations.

What puzzled him was this: if she had hanged herself, why destroy her own face? Corpse disfigurement was usually for substitution, but if she was the culprit, what was the point?

Liu Yuanxun turned to the blue-robed officer. “Do you have a portrait of her?”

The officer nodded and pulled a blue cloth from his robe, unfolding it to reveal the sketch.

Ling Qing stepped forward quickly, took the portrait, and handed it to Liu Yuanxun.

As a forensic reconstruction, it wasn’t perfectly lifelike, but even from the drawing, her striking beauty was evident—no wonder she had so easily ensnared Feng Hu.

Liu Yuanxun asked further, “Since they went to the trouble of disfiguring her, her true identity must hold secrets. Have you investigated?”

“Brilliant, Your Highness,” the officer replied. “We’ve posted her portrait on the Imperial Edict List. Anyone who’s seen her face before will come to the yamen for the reward.”

Liu Yuanxun nodded and glanced again at the woman in the portrait. Certain he’d never met her, he began to fold it and set it aside—but his hand froze midway…

“No…” As soon as Liu Yuanxun spoke, the three men below looked up. He continued, “Posting it on the Imperial Edict List would reveal her identity in a day or two at most—nothing to derail the investigation.”

The blue-robed officer nodded instinctively, though puzzled. They’d found the body, had the portrait—posting a reward for her identity was the logical next step. What was wrong?

Liu Yuanxun spoke faster. “Moreover, if her identity was so secret, why just ruin her face instead of disposing of the body entirely? You said the area is near the outskirts, sparsely populated. There are countless ways to handle a corpse—burn it, bury it, feed it to wild dogs. Any would be more discreet than simply disfiguring and leaving it there.”

Even though the bailiff in blue still didn’t quite understand, Liu Yuanxun’s urgent tone made his heart tighten involuntarily.

Delivering that long string of words had taken some effort out of Liu Yuanxun. He caught his breath, his expression grave as he looked toward the blue-clothed bailiff. “If what she truly wants isn’t to cover up her identity, but rather…”

“Not good!” The gatekeeping servant boy came tumbling into the study, too panicked even to salute. With a thud, he dropped to his knees on the floor and shouted, “The Left Deputy of the Tongzhengsi is beating the Drum of Grievances right outside the Meridian Gate! He keeps saying… saying…”

The Drum of Grievances!

That was the drum specially placed outside the Meridian Gate since the founding of the Tianyong Dynasty, meant for people to sound their injustices and grievances directly to the throne. Once it rang out, there was sure to be a grave injustice!

Ling Ting’s heart clenched. He snapped harshly, “Out with it!”

The servant boy gritted his teeth and blurted it out. “He says the Prince… the Prince seduced and raped his daughter!”

In an instant, several pairs of eyes converged on Liu Yuanxun. Yet the man at the center of all those gazes grew calm.

He let out a sigh and quietly finished the sentence he’d left hanging before. “Her true goal might not be to buy time or hide her identity at all. It might be to have her face posted high up on the Imperial Edict List, right there in plain view for everyone to see. Only then could word of who she is and what happened to her spread from mouth to mouth, becoming an unstoppable rumor throughout the Imperial City.”

And now, it was no longer just a guess—it was fact.

At the time, he’d assumed those people couldn’t breach the Prince’s residence’s tight defenses. They’d also worried that sending someone skilled in martial arts might alert Gu Lianzhao and the others to the shifts in their inner breath, so they’d taken a gamble and sent Feng Hu.

But looking at it now, Feng Hu had only been the beginning.

So this was where the follow-up move had been waiting.

“Since the Drum of Grievances has already sounded, I’ll have no choice but to head to the Capital Prefecture Yamen in person.” Liu Yuanxun rose slowly to his feet, then turned to Ling Ting. “But you’ll need to make another trip to Grand Secretary Meng’s residence and push back this gathering once more. As for when we can reschedule it for next time… who knows.”