The guards who accompanied the Crown Prince had nothing much to ask. Since entering Five Flavors Hall, they had been stationed outside the private room door, ensuring no strangers—including the tavern’s servers—could approach the Crown Prince. The wine and food brought by the servers were tested first, and only after showing no adverse reactions were they brought inside for the Crown Prince and his party to enjoy.

The situation seemed quite clear—the opportunity to poison the Crown Prince lay with those who had been dining and drinking with him.

“Scholar Yang, Graduate Han, Graduate Zhang—”

Among them, the most famous was undoubtedly Yang Zhe, the top scholar who had failed twice to marry a princess. Thus Minister Shen’s gaze fell on him first, then on Han Baocheng, grandson of the Minister of War, whom he had some impression of, and Zhang Liangyu, son of the Junior Minister of the Court of Imperial Stud.

When Minister Shen’s gaze fell upon Wen Feng and Li Lan, he momentarily drew a blank.

The graduates produced every three years could certainly be called the pride of heaven, but once integrated into the court, they became unremarkable members. Take the top scholar Yang Zhe, for example—he currently held only a sixth-rank junior position. As for Han Baocheng and the others, they hadn’t even been granted official posts yet, merely observing government affairs at various offices.

For Minister Shen, who held the position of Minister of Justice, it was perfectly normal not to recognize Wen Feng and Li Lan.

“Student Wen Feng, currently observing at the Court of Judicial Review,” Wen Feng said with a cupped-hand salute.

“Student Li Lan, currently studying at the Hanlin Academy.” Compared to Wen Feng’s calm demeanor, Li Lan’s voice carried some tension.

Minister Shen nodded. “Graduate Wen, Junior Compiler Li. Now, would the five of you please describe today’s events, starting from when you arrived at Five Flavors Hall.”

The five exchanged glances, and Zhang Liangyu spoke first: “I was the first to arrive. His Highness was already waiting in the private room. Afterward, His Highness and I drank tea while waiting for the others…”

“I was…”

Han Baocheng said with reddened eyes: “I was the last to arrive. His Highness even teased me a bit, then we started drinking…”

“While you were drinking, was there anything unusual?” Minister Shen asked.

Unusual?

The group looked at each other.

After a suffocating moment of silence, Yang Zhe suddenly spoke: “There was something unusual.”

His words immediately drew everyone’s attention.

“What do you mean by that, Scholar Yang?” Minister Shen’s expression grew noticeably serious.

After a moment of silence, Yang Zhe extended his hand. “I was attacked when I went to the privy.”

His hand was long and pale, making the dark brownish color on his fingertips particularly conspicuous.

Those present instantly guessed what it was.

“Brother Yang was injured? Then why didn’t you say anything when you came back?” Han Baocheng asked in surprise.

Yang Zhe frowned slightly. “His Highness’s condition was critical then—how could I think to mention such things?”

“That’s not right. When you came back, Brother Yang, His Highness was still fine. He even made you drink as punishment,” Zhang Liangyu said, looking at Yang Zhe with a strange expression.

Yang Zhe froze. “Punishment drink?”

Everyone nodded.

Yang Zhe’s brow furrowed tightly, his clear eyes becoming confused. “But when I returned after being attacked, I saw that His Highness had already fallen ill.”

At these words, everyone’s faces changed.

“Brother Yang, you must still be drunk. You were made to drink as punishment for returning late, then you went to the privy again. His Highness fell ill while you were at the privy that second time,” Han Baocheng said, puzzled.

Yang Zhe’s confused expression cleared, his tone becoming certain: “I went to the privy after Brother Han. When I regained consciousness and discovered I’d been attacked, I immediately returned to find you all. As soon as I reached the top of the stairs, I heard shouting and saw that His Highness had fallen ill.”

“That’s impossible!” Han Baocheng instinctively looked at the others.

The others looked at Yang Zhe with strange expressions. “Brother Yang, Brother Han is right. His Highness did fall ill after you went to the privy the second time. Are you really that drunk?”

Yang Zhe shook his head. “I’m certain that didn’t happen.”

“Wait a moment.” Cheng Maoming, who had been listening silently, spoke up. “Since Scholar Yang’s account doesn’t match what the rest of you say, why don’t you each tell your version and see where the discrepancy lies?”

The group exchanged glances, and Han Baocheng began: “Then I’ll speak. After several rounds of drinks, Brother Yang said he needed to relieve himself. I happened to need to go as well, so we went together.”

The others, including Yang Zhe, all nodded.

“When we got to the privy, only one stall was available. I went in first. When I came out, Brother Yang told me not to wait, so I returned to the private room and continued drinking. I had a few cups, then Brother Yang came back—”

Cheng Maoming interrupted: “Approximately how long was this?”

“About a quarter-hour, I’d say.” Han Baocheng estimated, looking at the others.

The others nodded. “About that.”

“And then?”

“After Brother Yang returned, we made him drink as punishment. He toasted each of us with a cup. After a while—” At this point, Han Baocheng paused, involuntarily glancing at Yang Zhe. “Then Brother Yang went to the privy again. The rest of us started a finger-guessing game. His Highness—His Highness suddenly fell ill.”

“His Highness also played the finger-guessing game?” Cheng Maoming asked.

“His Highness didn’t play—he just watched us.”

“How long was this?”

Han Baocheng frowned. “It didn’t feel long—probably less than a quarter-hour.”

Cheng Maoming looked at the others.

Zhang Liangyu and the rest all nodded, agreeing with Han Baocheng’s account.

“So while you were playing the finger-guessing game, His Highness wasn’t drinking?”

“We were focused on the game then and didn’t notice…” This was Han Baocheng and Zhang Liangyu’s answer.

Wen Feng didn’t speak. After a moment of silence, Li Lan stated with certainty: “His Highness only toyed with his wine cup—he didn’t eat or drink.”

At that moment, two people entered—an Imperial Physician and a coroner.

Seeing them, Minister Shen knew there were results. He asked impatiently: “Well?”

The coroner lowered his head. “Upon examination, His Highness shows symptoms consistent with poisoning…”

This answer was something everyone who had seen the Crown Prince already suspected in their hearts.

Minister Shen looked at the Imperial Physician.

The Imperial Physician was trembling all over, his voice shaking even more severely: “This humble official detected poison in His Highness’s wine cup. None of the other wine cups or food contained any…”

No matter how boisterous a drinking gathering became, each person’s cup and utensils wouldn’t be mixed up. This was undoubtedly an assassination attempt targeting the Crown Prince.

“Scholar Yang, tell us your version,” Cheng Maoming said, his gaze sharp as a blade as he looked at Yang Zhe.

Yang Zhe appeared relatively calm. “My stomach was a bit unsettled today…”

At first, his account matched Han Baocheng’s, but soon diverged: “I entered the privy stall and was just about to adjust my clothes when I suddenly sensed someone approaching. Before I could react, I lost consciousness. When I came to and returned to the second floor, I saw everyone in a panic and His Highness already fallen ill.”

“Brother Yang, that was your second time returning from the privy,” Han Baocheng said. He didn’t want to doubt his friend, but Yang Zhe’s account was simply too different from what they had all witnessed.

Zhang Liangyu added: “That’s right, Brother Yang. After you came back the first time, you were made to drink as punishment—you had a cup with each of us.”

Yang Zhe’s expression was confused yet resolute. “That truly didn’t happen.”

“Then did we all see a ghost?” Zhang Liangyu blurted out.

“Wait!” Cheng Maoming suddenly spoke, though his eyes were looking at Qi Shuo. “Perhaps there really is a ghost?”