Ye Jingkuan returned somewhat later, his face bearing anger and coldness, his eyes filled entirely with indifference. He strode hurriedly to the place, and upon raising his head, caught sight of Ye Jingchuan standing dumbly in the corridor. He couldn’t help but ask suspiciously, “What are you standing here for?” He had heard that Miss Song the Sixth had also been injured in the runaway horse incident. Instead of going to deliver medicine or show concern, this foolish younger brother was standing here like a wooden post—no wonder the Song family still hadn’t given a definite answer until now.

As soon as Ye Jingchuan saw his older brother, his eyes began to burn. Seeing his brother lift his foot, he naturally followed for a few steps, suppressing the bitterness and grievance in his heart as he gently shook his head. “Elder Brother, I won’t marry Miss Song the Sixth anymore.”

Ye Jingkuan suspected he had misheard. He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Ye Jingchuan. Seeing his dejected appearance, looking as if he had lost his soul, he frowned. “What are you saying so suddenly out of the blue?”

Ye Jingchuan sighed. He had never been one to sigh much—young people don’t know the taste of sorrow. Moreover, he was the legitimate second son of the family. From his parents to his elder brother to his younger sisters, everyone doted on him, indulged him, and respected him. Even when he went to the military camp, there were his father’s close friends to look after him. His parents had paved the road for him completely. He had never suffered any setbacks, except in this one matter concerning Song Chuyi.

Thinking of what Song Chuyi had just said, he felt somewhat sad again. Lowering his head, he felt his lips going somewhat numb. After a long while, he finally met his brother’s eyes. “Miss Song the Sixth doesn’t fancy me.”

Ye Jingkuan couldn’t help but laugh, feeling his younger brother was truly still a child. He currently had matters weighing on his mind, and hearing his brother’s reason being so childishly petulant, he didn’t pay him much attention, reproaching him dismissively, “What nonsense are you talking about? What fancying or not fancying? If she didn’t fancy you, would she let you know?”

Ye Jingchuan didn’t know how to explain it clearly to his elder brother. He was about to say more when his elder brother had already strode upstairs and turned into the Crown Prince’s room. He hesitated outside for a moment, but ultimately followed slowly, shuffling into the room.

Inside the room, the lamps were brightly lit. Imperial Physician Yan and Attendant Hu had busied themselves for quite a while before handing over the prescription they had discussed to Cuiting and Mingtai to prepare. They personally attended to Zhou Weizhao taking the medicine. Seeing them arrive, they said, “Old injuries haven’t healed and new ones have been added. This isn’t a good place for recuperation either. We must hurry back to Jinzhong.”

They also needed to find Master Taibai to see if he had any good methods for nourishing vital energy. These Daoists had many pills and elixirs, and Master Taibai himself was famously known as the reincarnation of Hua Tuo. For now, they could only go to him first. Otherwise, if His Highness the Crown Prince were to develop lasting ailments, it would be no laughing matter.

Ye Jingkuan quickly assented, thanking the two physicians for their hard work. After they had all left, he looked at Zhou Weizhao. “The urgent report about your assassination has already been sent to the capital.”

Just how perilous this journey to quell the rebellion had been—the ministers at court and Emperor Jianzhang all needed to see it clearly. The merit from this journey was won by His Highness the Crown Prince with his life. This weight was entirely different.

Zhou Weizhao nodded. After coughing once, his face finally gained some color as he asked, “How many were captured alive?”

This was the most crucial point. He had used himself, even putting Song Chuyi at risk as bait, all to draw out the people behind the scenes, or at least to make them reveal some evidence from their dark corners. Calculating it, across those three routes, they should have been able to capture some alive.

Ye Jingkuan’s expression became rather unsightly. After expending so much effort, nearly sacrificing His Highness himself, they had captured some people, but he felt it was far too insignificant compared to what they had paid.

“We captured some death warriors on those three routes, but these people won’t talk. Lord Lai is currently trying to find a way.” He tapped on the table, then quickly added, “As for the temple on the mountain, by the time our people arrived, apart from a group of death warriors, there were only dried corpses left, burned by fire. Not a trace was left behind—completely clean. These people clearly made preparations for certain death. When the Imperial Guards went up, the fire had already started, and there were still people alive inside. They originally wanted to go rescue them, but were desperately blocked by those death warriors.”

The people behind this were truly ruthless enough, willing to sacrifice all their own people as well.

“However, it’s not entirely without gains.” Ye Jingkuan changed his tone. Seeing Zhou Weizhao’s expression still calm, he continued, “On that small path beside the official road, we captured quite a few masons and laborers. All these people had been hired, saying they thought the collapsed mountain needed road repairs so the coal inside could be transported out. The person who hired them supposedly had a capital accent. Most peculiarly, he was a monk.”

They had already met San’nan, and he had nearly lost his life at Zhou Weizhao’s hands. That this matter was related to Huangjue Temple was irrefutable. Zhou Weizhao and Song Chuyi exchanged a glance, not finding it strange at all, waiting for Ye Jingkuan to continue.

“Also, there’s a teahouse ahead of the landslide. A waiter there who broke his leg said that when the incident occurred, there was a group of people with Xingyang accents who caused a commotion there for a while. After seeing the incident ahead, they somehow panicked and all ran away.” Ye Jingkuan reached this point and couldn’t help but knit his brows together again. “We carefully walked through that route and discovered it could actually lead to that temple that was burned completely. Unfortunately, we searched through that temple thoroughly and truly couldn’t find anything. However, on the back mountain, we found a corpse whose face had been slashed beyond recognition. Unfortunately, the clothes had all been stripped clean—except for one inner garment, there was nothing. It’s obvious someone slashed his face to conceal his identity.”

Actually, having reached this point in the matter, everyone in the room was sharp—who the culprit behind everything was had now almost clearly emerged. The Fan clan of Xingyang—besides Dowager Consort Fan, who else could command them?

They just didn’t know who this dead person was. In any case, he couldn’t be an ordinary person. To handle such a major matter, the Fan clan would at minimum have to send someone from the direct line of the family. People’s hearts were separated by their bellies—if they had used someone with a different surname, they wouldn’t dare trust them either.

Unfortunately, these were all speculations. Without concrete evidence, they counted for nothing. Ye Jingkuan let out a long sigh, his brows full of gloom, looking at Zhou Weizhao with some hesitation—actually, even if they found proof that the Fan clan was behind it, what of it? The Crown Prince would likely be the first to forbid it from being exposed. Setting aside whether the Crown Prince was blinded by lust, this matter was indeed difficult to speak of publicly. If it got out that the Crown Prince’s only two sons were killing each other, how would the people at court view the Eastern Palace? How would His Majesty view the Eastern Palace?