While Lin Hao and Qi Shuo were seeking out Jinlin Guard Commander Cheng Maoming, the Minister of Justice was clutching the portrait he’d obtained from his subordinates and hurrying into the palace to claim credit—oh no, to report the investigation’s progress—to Emperor Tai’an.

“You’ve already learned what the murderer looks like?” Upon hearing this, Emperor Tai’an was delighted.

Minister Shen held up the scroll with both hands. “I request Your Majesty to examine it.”

Liu Chuan took the scroll and returned to Emperor Tai’an’s side, slowly unfurling it.

Emperor Tai’an stared intently at the figure in the painting, his voice revealing an icy quality. “How was this portrait obtained?”

“In response to Your Majesty, a chief clerk discovered that a teahouse worker had seen the suspect. The Heir of Prince Jing heard the worker’s description and painted this portrait.” Minister Shen naturally wanted to claim all the credit, but he also knew the principle of not biting off more than one could chew.

This was the Heir of Prince Jing, not just any random person. Moreover, as the chief official responsible for this case, he was grateful that the Heir of Prince Jing had provided such great assistance.

“The Heir of Prince Jing painted it?” Emperor Tai’an was somewhat surprised to hear this and couldn’t help examining the portrait more carefully.

The man in the painting had a thin, elongated face, his sharp gaze seemingly condensed into something tangible, confronting the viewer through the paper.

Such realistic eyes, such superb painting skill!

In Emperor Tai’an’s impression, this nephew was quiet, reserved, and steady. Compared to those imperial clan members who were either flamboyant or arrogant, he was so low-key as to have almost no presence. He hadn’t expected his painting skills to be so outstanding.

Great Zhou had a flourishing culture of the arts, and there were many skilled painters, but among the imperial clan members this was rare. Developing good painting skills required enduring tedium, which wasn’t easy for imperial clan members accustomed to extravagance.

Emperor Tai’an developed an interest in meeting his nephew.

After Qi Shuo and Lin Hao obtained the address from Du Qing, they didn’t rush to investigate but instead returned to their respective residences.

The sky quietly darkened, and the wind stopped as well. The red lanterns in front of both residences hung motionless, as if a giant steamer basket had covered the capital, dark and stifling.

Lin Hao bid farewell to Qi Shuo. After returning home, she washed away her sweat and slept soundly until dawn.

Chen Mu’s portrait was quickly posted throughout various locations in the capital. Everywhere there were crowds of common people gathered around, pointing at the portrait and discussing it. Cheng Maoming walked through the streets, pretending to see it by chance. After expressing shock, he hurried toward the imperial palace.

Qi Shuo had arrived before Cheng Maoming.

“Greetings, Imperial Uncle.”

Emperor Tai’an looked at his respectfully bowing nephew, his tone gentle. “Are you puzzled why I summoned you to the palace?”

Qi Shuo hesitated slightly, then asked candidly, “Is it about the portrait your nephew painted yesterday?”

Emperor Tai’an was momentarily stunned, then showed a rare hint of a smile. “Correct.”

Perhaps having had enough of the various exasperating behaviors of the deposed Crown Prince, at this moment looking at his nephew with his clear gaze and frank, open expression, Emperor Tai’an found him more and more pleasing to the eye.

“I didn’t expect Shuo’er’s painting skills to be so accomplished.”

“Your nephew spends much time at home—it’s merely a way to pass the time.”

Emperor Tai’an nodded. “Regarding Yi’an’s matter, we are much indebted to you.”

Qi Shuo hastily replied, “Imperial Uncle does your nephew too much honor with such words. Anyone would have done their utmost to clear Yi’an’s name.”

These words were very much to Emperor Tai’an’s liking. “Indeed! That villain who attempted to frame Yi’an is utterly detestable!”

Uncle and nephew chatted for a few more moments until a palace attendant reported that Cheng Maoming was requesting an audience.

“Shuo’er may return now.”

“Your nephew takes his leave.”

When Cheng Maoming followed the palace attendant inside, what he saw was this warm scene. His heart jolted, and as he passed Qi Shuo, he glanced at him suspiciously.

Had the Heir of Prince Jing gotten here first to speak?

Qi Shuo inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his expression calm as he walked out.

Cheng Maoming’s heart settled somewhat.

It seemed he hadn’t.

Just as he’d thought—the Heir of Prince Jing wasn’t that kind of person.

He stepped forward to pay his respects. “This humble subject greets Your Majesty.”

“Has there been unusual activity at the guesthouse?” Upon seeing Cheng Maoming, this was Emperor Tai’an’s first reaction.

Early this morning, the Yulin envoys had come making a commotion. Though they had been informed of the discovery of a third person’s involvement, Emperor Tai’an knew the Yulin side wouldn’t easily believe it.

Or rather, even with ironclad evidence, the Yulin envoys wouldn’t give up on transmitting news of Princess Lingque’s death back to Yulin for their king to decide.

Great Zhou and Yulin had once made a peace treaty. With Yulin’s development and growing strength, that agreement had long since become a fragile layer of window paper—breaking through it required only an insignificant excuse.

Emperor Tai’an didn’t want to gamble on the Yulin King’s intentions at present.

The troops weren’t yet trained, the heir hadn’t been designated—if at this time Yulin and Northern Qi joined forces, it would be greatly disadvantageous for Great Zhou.

Thinking of designating an heir, Emperor Tai’an naturally thought of Prince Wei.

Recently, memorials requesting the designation of an heir had become increasingly numerous.

It wasn’t that Emperor Tai’an was dissatisfied with Prince Wei. Ever since he’d become disappointed in the Crown Prince, Prince Wei had naturally entered his field of vision. His fourth son was far superior to his eldest, but that dejected feeling was somewhat difficult to shake off for the time being.

Emperor Tai’an was a rational person who knew that with no other choice, the matter of designating an heir couldn’t be delayed any longer. He couldn’t keep dwelling on his feelings indefinitely.

“There’s no unusual activity at the guesthouse for now. This humble subject saw the murderer’s portrait posted in the streets and has an important matter to report.”

Upon hearing this, Emperor Tai’an’s expression immediately turned grave. “Speak.”

Cheng Maoming lowered his head slightly, steeling himself before speaking out. “The person in that portrait… is the fish that slipped through the net from the group that attempted to blow up Jinxiu Street!”

“What?” Emperor Tai’an’s expression became extremely ugly. The fury he was trying hard to control made his voice cold and sharp as a blade, cutting painfully at the ears. “I knew those people wouldn’t give up!”

He swept a glance at Cheng Maoming and swallowed his reprimand. “You, together with the Ministry of Justice, the Five Cities Military Commission, and other offices—even if you must dig three feet into the ground, you will dig out this fish that slipped through the net for me!”

“This humble subject receives Your Majesty’s decree.” Only after Cheng Maoming left the palace did his anxious heart settle down.

It had gone better than imagined—he actually hadn’t been scolded.

Because of this, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat more grateful toward Qi Shuo.

The common people of the capital soon discovered that officials were everywhere in the streets. The doors of households were knocked on one by one, and pedestrians walking the streets might suddenly be stopped and compared against the portrait the officials held.

Besides the officials, even more common people joined this vigorous activity of searching for the wanted criminal—not out of an excess of righteousness, but because the reward money was substantial.

For a time, the entire capital was enveloped in an atmosphere of nervous excitement, with “suspects” being continuously delivered to government offices by enthusiastic citizens.

The common people were relatively simple-minded. They certainly didn’t dare deliver anyone to the Jinlin Guard, and they weren’t familiar with other offices either, so they sent them to the Shuntian Prefecture instead.

After once again driving away a delivered “suspect,” the minor Shuntian Prefecture clerk responsible for comparisons completely broke down. “The fat man just delivered was at least twice as wide as the person in the portrait! How did they have the nerve to send him in!”

Under such circumstances, Chen Mu seemed to have vanished into thin air.

On this day, several officials knocked on a household door according to their assigned area. After the door opened and they glanced at the young man inside, they didn’t even speak before moving on to the next household.

They had looked at the portrait so many times they were sick of it—they didn’t need to compare to know it wasn’t him.

The young man casually glanced outside the door and calmly closed it.

Compared to the young man’s composure, Xuan Yi, who was hiding in the shadows keeping watch, fell into self-doubt. Had his eyes been playing tricks on him?