Chapter 56

The candle flames flickered weakly like beans, gradually burning out as the water in the copper basin quietly cooled.

Gu Lianzhao casually tossed the cloth into the basin. Then he slipped his hand into the sleeve of his outer robe and pulled out the porcelain bottle that Hong Fu had given him.

He had only used the powder inside once, and plenty remained. Gu Lianzhao weighed it lightly in his hand a couple of times before turning to gaze at Liu Yuanxun’s face.

As he looked, he couldn’t help reaching out to cup Liu Yuanxun’s face, rubbing his thumb gently over the skin beneath his eye.

He examined the face before him closely. His gaze fell upon Liu Yuanxun’s eyes like a kiss, then trailed slowly down the straight bridge of his nose, finally lingering for a long time on those pale, soft lips.

His body leaned forward uncontrollably, inch by inch, drawing closer and closer. Just as he was about to touch those soft lips, Gu Lianzhao abruptly turned his head aside and took a deep breath.

A moment later, he lowered his head and took Liu Yuanxun’s earlobe between his lips, sucking on it hard as if to vent his frustration.

The cool, soft earlobe felt like a piece of fine jade. Gu Lianzhao licked it lightly with the tip of his tongue, then nibbled gently. The force was so light that Liu Yuanxun remained utterly unaware.

Only the earlobe gradually warmed, taking on a seductive flush of red.

He had undone Liu Yuanxun’s clothes many times before, caressed his pale skin, and kissed his neck. But those lips—he had never touched them.

Kissing held too much tenderness. And he knew he shouldn’t harbor such feelings, especially not for Liu Yuanxun.

When he gripped Liu Yuanxun’s waist and bit his throat, he felt like the master controlling his desires. In the thick, ink-black night, those crude methods became proof of his superiority, his command over everything.

But if he stole a kiss from Liu Yuanxun under cover of darkness, he would become nothing more than a lowly, disgraceful stray dog, meekly surrendering all power over life and death to another.

Outside the window, the moon slipped quietly behind the clouds, and the night grew even deeper. The atmosphere in the room wrapped itself in dense ink, so dark that love and hate blurred together.

Gu Lianzhao’s hair slid from his shoulder. Because he was so close, a few strands scattered onto the bedside, landing right on Liu Yuanxun’s hand.

Liu Yuanxun’s fingers twitched slightly, instinctively clutching the offending strands.

The tug tilted Gu Lianzhao’s head. He glanced down and saw Liu Yuanxun gripping his hair like a child clutching a piece of candy.

The sight inexplicably lifted his mood. He pushed himself upright, slipping the porcelain bottle back into his sleeve. He decided not to use the drug tonight, after all.

He easily convinced himself: There were important matters tomorrow. Liu Yuanxun needed to rest and recover his strength.

That night, the wind died down and snow began to fall. By the next morning, a thin layer of snow blanketed the entire courtyard.

Liu Yuanxun scooped up a spoonful of plain congee. While waiting for it to cool, he methodically laid out the day’s tasks.

“The household has so many miscellaneous affairs right now, and we’re short on manpower. Some matters are far more complex than I imagined, and Prince Rui’s Mansion alone won’t suffice to handle them. Ling Qing, escort the Feng couple to the Capital Prefecture Yamen and report the assassination attempt on me exactly as it happened. Ask them to treat the Feng couple well while investigating every lead on the ‘woman’ that Aunt Feng mentioned.”

Ling Qing’s expression sharpened, and she agreed solemnly.

“A’Qiao, I need to go to the Ministry of Punishments today to review the records on Feng Yuanyuan’s case. After breakfast, head to the Embroidered Uniform Guard and retrieve Liu Qianyuan’s portrait for Ning Bi to identify. No matter the result, come straight to the Ministry of Punishments and report to me.”

Gu Lianzhao paused in his eating. At Liu Yuanxun’s words, the first thought that flashed through his mind was: After all this time in the prince’s mansion, this would be their first time apart.

But the notion lasted only an instant before fading. He nodded, his tone steady. “Rest assured, Your Highness.”

Finally, Liu Yuanxun turned to Ling Ting. “You’ll come with me to the Ministry of Punishments.”

Ling Ting nodded in assent, though worry flickered across his face. “Master, you were rushing about all day yesterday. Can your body handle it?”

Liu Yuanxun’s expression remained calm. “That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss with you. Didn’t Physician Wang leave two prescriptions? With so many household matters lately, I’m concerned my energy won’t hold up and I’ll delay important business. For now, prepare the second one to brew.”

“You mustn’t, Master!” Ling Ting grew anxious. “That prescription is full of potent drugs like tiger and wolf medicines. It might boost your energy temporarily, but the damage to your body would be severe. It’s just a case that has nothing to do with you. We can investigate without risking your health.”

Liu Yuanxun appreciated Ling Ting’s concern, but their goals differed, as did their paths ahead. Besides, there were many things he couldn’t explain to Ling Ting. He could only shut down all his subordinate’s protests.

His voice was mild. “I’ve made my decision.”

Ling Ting’s heart burned with anxiety, knowing he couldn’t sway Liu Yuanxun. Afraid of overstepping and displeasing him, he swallowed his worries and submitted silently.

After the meal, the four people in the room split into three groups and set off in different directions.

…

News of Liu Yuanxun carrying a special imperial edict had already spread through the upper echelons of the capital. Everyone secretly speculated on his every move, baffled as to why the reclusive Prince Rui had suddenly stirred up such a commotion. They worried even more that wherever this led, it might implicate them.

Thus, when Liu Yuanxun entered the Ministry of Punishments Archives alone and specifically requested Feng Yuanyuan’s records, the spies from various court factions embedded there melted silently into the crowd and dispersed to report back.

Liu Yuanxun knew full well that the matter couldn’t be concealed, so he had never intended to hide it from the start.

His time was running short. He didn’t want to waste it on futile efforts, nor did he wish to prop up his increasingly frail body with mere tonics.

He had been plagued by illness since birth, spending his life struggling just to stay alive. He exercised diligently, nurtured his health in every way, and endured three bowls of bitterly nauseating medicine each day—all to live like an ordinary person.

Yet even so, he remained a patient with no tomorrow, no future.

Three years ago, when he learned his death was inevitable, he wasn’t sure whether he felt more fear or relief in that moment.

He only thought that since his life had reached its end, he should make the remaining time as meaningful as possible. At the very least, he should accomplish a few good deeds.

So even though Ning Bi hadn’t provided any useful clues, he still pored through every detail of Feng Yuanyuan’s records.

Like Xiao Jinye’s case, the files on Feng Yuanyuan were meticulously documented. Unearthed account books and a massive hoard of gold and silver buried in his backyard provided ironclad proof, nailing the charges.

On the surface, it was an airtight case.

But it wasn’t without an opening…

Liu Yuanxun leaned back against the soft cushion, his eyes on the records while his mind replayed Ning Bi’s words from yesterday.

She had said her family lived in dire poverty. Her brother’s official post had been usurped due to lack of connections, and her mother even subsidized them by doing embroidery.

Liu Yuanxun didn’t doubt the truth of it. After all, a top embroiderer’s piece fetched at least several dozen taels of silver. If she produced one every two or three months, her annual earnings would likely exceed Feng Yuanyuan’s yearly salary.

But Feng Yuanyuan was a Fourth-Rank Official, after all. No matter how frugally he lived, it shouldn’t have come to that.

If it were simply a matter of lacking money, one might suspect vices like gambling or whoring.

But if her brother’s lost post was real, that became the biggest anomaly in Feng Yuanyuan’s corruption case.

Feng Yuanyuan was an official himself. He couldn’t possibly not understand that power mattered more than money. With power, money flowed endlessly; without it, no amount of wealth could save you.

No official would sacrifice his son’s future prospects just to pinch pennies.

Thus, if he truly had the money, he would spare no expense to pave a smooth path for his son.

Yet the same logic held: Whoever spent the silver was the true embezzler.

And the Jiangnan Governor Meng Qian’an, whom Ning Bi suspected…

He was no simple figure. He was the son of Grand Secretary Meng Yannian.

Liu Yuanxun recalled that a month ago, he had spotted the name “Meng Yannian” in a memorial in the Imperial Study, leading him to suspect that his Imperial Brother might be moving against Grand Secretary Meng.

He instinctively connected the two: Could Grand Secretary Meng’s troubles be linked to this corruption case?

But he dismissed the idea as soon as it arose.

Grand Secretary Meng was an elder who had watched him grow up alongside his Imperial Father, a meritorious minister who had fought to found the dynasty.

He had lived a life of integrity, with only an elderly wife at home. Every move was scrutinized by countless eyes.

If he were corrupt, Liu Yuanxun couldn’t even imagine where he would spend the money.

Grand Secretary Meng had but one son and one daughter. His daughter was the palace’s esteemed Noble Consort, renowned for her virtue. His son had just entered officialdom and been posted to distant Jiangnan.

Liu Yuanxun knew little about affairs there, given the distance…

Could Meng Qian’an have stepped out from under his father’s watch and done something reckless in private?

But these were mere conjectures. Without solid evidence, he couldn’t condemn anyone on a whim.

Still, he could pay a visit to Grand Secretary Meng’s residence and test the waters…

“Ling Ting,” Liu Yuanxun closed the records, his expression calm. “Grind some ink. I need to write a calling card. Then trouble you to deliver it to Grand Secretary Meng’s residence.”

The timing was perfect. The ink on the calling card for Grand Secretary Meng’s residence had just dried when Gu Lianzhao arrived at the Ministry of Punishments Archive Pavilion, holding Liu Yuanxun’s token.

With a light creak of the door, Gu Lianzhao strode in, clad in his qilin-patterned uniform.

Strangely enough, though he and Gu Lianzhao hadn’t known each other long and weren’t close confidants, in that single glance, Liu Yuanxun somehow divined the outcome of his errand.

The words slipped out unbidden. “Third Brother is Liu Qianyuan?”

Just then, Gu Lianzhao stopped in front of the desk.

He wasn’t surprised that Liu Yuanxun had guessed the answer early. He merely nodded. “Not only that. I discovered something else.”

Liu Yuanxun’s heart tightened with a bad premonition.

Then Gu Lianzhao continued, “Liu Qianyuan’s death was no accident. It was murder.”

The words landed, and Liu Yuanxun slowly leaned back against the cushion behind him. A sense of inevitability settled in his heart.