Jia Huan’s methods were taught by Ying’er. Forget about royalty and nobles who were delicate and pampered; even elite assassins and guards trained for death might not have been able to endure it. Qin Qiancheng had fought on battlefields for many years and seen all sorts of scenes, endured all kinds of injuries. Yet, he had only lasted an hour.
With an hour left until the morning court, Ji Hong returned to the palace through the secret passage, without waiting for the interrogation results.
Ji Jinmo stood up and walked to the bedside.
Raindrops rolled down from the eaves, splattering onto the steps beneath, where a pool of water had already formed.
The entire night sky was shrouded in rain. The sounds echoing in his ears were like war drums. Ji Jinmo frowned slightly, his hand resting on the window frame. The coral bracelet hung loosely, absorbing some of the wind and rain.
Ji Jinmo had a vague feeling, one he couldn’t quite articulate. It lingered in his heart, as difficult to quell as the wind and rain at this moment.
…
Snow fell in Wucheng, and it snowed all night, blanketing the eaves and treetops, adorning everything in white.
As dawn broke, Shou Yi was sweeping the snow off the steps with a broom. The only sliver of sunlight in front of him was obscured by a shadow. He saw a pair of white boots, his gaze slowly moving upward, past the person’s robes, and landing on her face.
Shou Yi was momentarily stunned. He suddenly felt as if the sunlight above had cleaved through the clouds, and a brilliant beam of light shone down upon the other person, casting a halo. Even the strands of her hair seemed to be gilded by the light, dazzling and blinding.
He was stunned for a long time before slowly coming back to his senses. After clasping his hands together and chanting “Amitabha,” he said to the person, “Benefactress, our temple has not yet opened. You…”
“Shou Yi!”
The other person interrupted him and said, “Could you take me to see your martial uncle, Master Yuanrong?”
Shou Yi’s mouth opened. He recognized the voice and the eyes of the person.
“Miss Luan?”
Shou Yi’s voice was distorted by surprise, and the tone at the end startled birds perched on the treetops, causing them to flutter down, shaking off a layer of snowflakes. Shou Yi glanced at the steps, now covered in snow again, and recited the Heart Sutra silently.
Nan Shiying nodded. Shou Yi still couldn’t connect the beautiful, peach-blossom-like, peerless beauty before him with Luan Fengjiu. Apart from her deep and sparkling eyes, there was no other resemblance between them.
Seeing Shou Yi hesitate, Nan Shiying took out a token.
Shou Yi waved his hand, put down the broom, and signaled Nan Shiying to be careful of the slippery ground, then led her into the temple.
Their Linlong Temple was not a national temple, and they did not have the right to refuse an imperial envoy investigating a case. Shou Yi led her to the backyard and apologized, “Please wait here, Benefactress. Allow this humble monk to report first.”
Nan Shiying nodded slightly. Shou Yi hurried to knock on Yuanrong’s door.
Monk Yuanrong opened the door, his eyes still heavy with sleep. The biting cold wind rushed into the room, making Yuanrong shiver violently. He quickly tightened his collar, his gaze towards Shou Yi full of anger. His shiny, bald head seemed to ignite with a fiery temper at that moment. “You’d better have a good reason!”
Shou Yi felt that his martial uncle was truly unlike a monk; he was irritable and easily angered. If not for frequently drinking calming tea, his elderly self would probably be practicing a set of Dragon-Tiger Fist in the backyard.
“Martial Uncle, the imperial envoy is looking for you!”
Shou Yi stepped aside, allowing Yuanrong to see Nan Shiying standing in the courtyard behind him. Yuanrong’s face stiffened, and the anger in his eyes instantly receded and extinguished. He clasped his hands in front of his chest and bowed to Nan Shiying, then, the moment he averted his gaze, he shot Shou Yi a fierce glare.
Shou Yi read a threat in his mouth that moved but uttered no sound. Shou Yi remained silent for two seconds, deciding to tell his master about his martial uncle’s behavior.
Yuanrong returned to his room, dressed neatly, opened the door, and invited her in.
Nan Shiying entered the room. Yuanrong did not close the door, but merely instructed Shou Yi to boil a pot of water.
“Benefactress, why do you seek this humble monk?”
Yuanrong sat cross-legged on a futon, facing Nan Shiying across the table. He opened a teacup and took out a box of tea leaves from a drawer beneath the table. While waiting for Shou Yi to bring the water, he asked her the reason for her visit.
Nan Shiying did not engage in wordplay and replied directly, “I want to ask Master, where is Wang Xun now?”
“Why do you believe this humble monk would know?”
“Master knows!”
Nan Shiying smiled without saying anything. Yuanrong sighed. The other party had no intention of persuading him; she wasn’t suspecting, she was certain he knew Wang Xun’s whereabouts. Yuanrong felt a degree of pressure.
“Where Benefactor Wang is now, this humble monk does not know. This humble monk only knows that he went to the capital.”
Yuanrong did not conceal anything.
“When did he depart?”
“It should have been after Benefactress Feng came down from Changming Mountain.”
Nan Shiying thanked Yuanrong and then rose to take her leave.
As she walked towards the door, Yuanrong suddenly asked, “How will the imperial court deal with those people?”
Nan Shiying did not turn back and replied with a smile, “Extermination of three generations!”
Wucheng was without a magistrate and deputy magistrate, and the yamen was implicated with many personnel, effectively crippled for the time being. All current affairs were now taken over by the Langhuan Army. Cheng Chongyu and the entire Cheng Manor were thrown into the imperial prison, awaiting further judgment.
“Time to eat!”
The jailer pushed a cart and brought the lunch in.
The Cheng Manor residents were imprisoned separately. Those implicated were put in death row, while the rest were held in relatively clean and comfortable cells, with different meals. Those not implicated received meat with every meal. The imperial envoy had specifically given instructions to look after them.
Cheng Zimo took the day’s food and, as usual, scooped out a little of each dish and threw it in the corner of the cell for the cockroaches and mice to eat first.
Usually, nothing happened. Today, however, the mice and cockroaches that had eaten the food dropped dead on the spot.
“Don’t eat! Don’t eat it yet!”
Cheng Zimo threw away the food in his hand and yelled at everyone.
But some people had already finished eating their meals.
The person who heard Cheng Zimo’s shout instinctively stopped, but the next moment, a searing pain rose in his abdomen, and within an instant, he bled from all seven orifices and died.
Cheng Zimo felt his blood rush backward, all flowing towards his heart. Before being imprisoned, the imperial envoy had told him to be extremely careful with anything he consumed after entering prison. He had heeded this advice and instructed everyone in the Cheng Manor to check their food before eating, precisely to prevent what happened today.
Fortunately, the person who was poisoned was not from the Cheng family.
The jailer, startled by the incident in the cell, quickly reported it. But before he could run out of the cell, he was silenced with a sword by a black-robed figure who appeared suddenly.
Cheng Zimo heard a loud thud. Without hesitation, he quickly took out the signal flare he had in his pocket and fired it out the window.
The signal flare shot into the sky with a “whoosh” and then exploded. The cook, carrying a boning knife, rushed towards the cells at full speed.
No one was captured alive. Seeing that his plot was exposed, the person committed suicide on the spot.
Nan Shiying tutted, “Better than nothing, I suppose!”
She picked up the teacup and took a sip, then said to Ying, “Send the Cheng Manor personnel not implicated in the case to the Langhuan Army camp.”
“Yes!”