Everyone else looked bewildered.

The Commander of the Jinlin Guard said there was a ghost—why was he looking at the Heir of Prince Jing? Could it be that the Heir of Prince Jing—

Qi Shuo and Lin Hao instantly understood what Cheng Maoming was thinking: he had thought of that master of disguise.

“Commander Cheng, what do you mean by that?” Minister Shen spoke, breaking the brief silence created by Cheng Maoming’s words.

“This—” Cheng Maoming hesitated.

Qi Shuo suddenly spoke: “Commander, in the early stages of an investigation, it’s best not to be influenced by outside interference.”

Cheng Maoming started, then nodded. “The Heir is quite right.”

Preconceived notions were indeed undesirable.

Cheng Maoming’s gaze returned to Yang Zhe’s face. “Scholar Yang says someone attacked you. Where were you injured?”

Yang Zhe turned around. “On the back of my head.”

Everyone looked and indeed saw a faint brownish color among the thick black hair.

“Scholar Yang wouldn’t mind having the coroner take a look, would you?” Though Cheng Maoming asked politely, his tone brooked no refusal.

Whether one was a top scholar who had passed all three imperial examinations or a prince consort favored by the Emperor, once connected to the Crown Prince’s death, none of it mattered.

Never mind Yang Zhe—whoever had harmed the Crown Prince was finished.

“Naturally not.” Yang Zhe cooperatively sat down to facilitate the coroner’s examination.

The coroner carefully parted the hair and observed the wound.

“It appears to have been struck by a blunt object like a smooth stone. The force wasn’t great.”

Cheng Maoming glanced at Yang Zhe. Though it offended people, he still asked: “Could someone take a blunt object and inflict such an injury on themselves?”

The coroner couldn’t help but glance at Yang Zhe as well, his voice somewhat hesitant: “It’s possible… mainly the wound is very shallow, and without the weapon to compare, it’s difficult to determine from the angle of impact whether it was self-inflicted or done by another.”

Yang Zhe smiled bitterly upon hearing this. “It seems this humble official cannot prove his innocence.”

Han Baocheng and the others all spoke up for Yang Zhe.

“Distinguished sirs, Yang Zhe could not possibly harm His Highness.”

“That’s right. His Highness valued Yang Zhe most—he has no reason to do this.”

“Although what Yang Zhe says differs from what we saw, we all understand his character…”

“What does the Heir think?” Cheng Maoming suddenly asked, drawing everyone’s gaze involuntarily to Qi Shuo.

Qi Shuo’s expression was composed, his unhurried tone inspiring trust: “As things stand now, there are two scenarios. First, Scholar Yang is lying. The attack in the privy was a self-inflicted injury scheme to exculpate himself, fabricating a real culprit out of thin air. The second is that he’s not lying, and Graduate Han and the others haven’t misremembered either. In that case, someone used the time difference to impersonate Scholar Yang and poisoned the Crown Prince’s wine.”

“That’s impossible. Even with disguise and makeup, how could someone be identical enough that none of us noticed any difference?”

“There truly are such masters of disguise.” Cheng Maoming added, and seeing everyone looking at him, he touched his nose. “But even if the appearance is the same, what about behavior and mannerisms? Think carefully—were there any unusual aspects?”

The group was stumped by the question.

“We’d drunk quite a bit at the time and it was rather boisterous. I didn’t notice anything unusual,” Han Baocheng said.

Zhang Liangyu nodded in agreement.

Wen Feng thought carefully. “Brother Yang didn’t say much. I thought I heard some change in his voice, but I’m not certain. After all, we’d drunk quite a bit and were talking and laughing the whole time—it wouldn’t be strange for his throat to be somewhat hoarse.”

Li Lan said much the same as the others.

Listening to all this, it really came down to the fact that they’d all drunk quite a bit of wine, affecting their judgment.

“What about his clothing?”

The group looked at Yang Zhe in his bamboo-green robe, not quite certain. “It should be this outfit.”

Men’s clothing styles were fundamentally similar to begin with. If the color and material were the same, especially for grown men who’d been drinking, it was difficult to notice differences.

“Let’s go look at the privy,” Cheng Maoming said, scanning the group. “Scholar Yang and Graduate Han, come with us. The rest of you stay here and think carefully about any details you might have missed.”

The tavern inside and out had long been controlled by constables, and the privy area was no exception.

Cheng Maoming had frequented this old establishment Five Flavors Hall many times and had used the privy here before. He glanced at it and frowned. “At a time like this, both privy stalls are occupied?”

The wooden plaques hanging on both privy doors unmistakably showed the characters facing outward, indicating they were occupied.

Han Baocheng pointed to the stall on the left, doubt appearing in his eyes. “When Brother Yang and I came together, there was someone in this stall.”

Cheng Maoming instructed a subordinate: “Go in and look.”

The subordinate walked straight in and emerged a moment later. “Commander, there’s no one inside.”

No one inside, yet the wooden plaque showed it was occupied—this was intriguing. Either the last person to use the privy had forgotten to turn the plaque over when leaving, or someone had done it deliberately.

“Check the other stall.”

The subordinate quickly checked. Similarly, no one was there.

“After Scholar Yang came out, did you turn the plaque?”

Yang Zhe shook his head. “I forgot.”

“Forgot?” Cheng Maoming’s gaze was suspicious.

Yang Zhe smiled bitterly. “When this humble official regained consciousness, the back of my head was throbbing with pain. When I touched it and found blood on my hand, I worried something had happened and hurried back to the private room. I didn’t think to turn the plaque.”

This explanation was flawless.

Cheng Maoming stared at the privy entrance, murmuring: “That means after Scholar Yang came out, no one else entered this stall.”

He simply called Yang Zhe to go inside with him.

The privy was rather long, divided into outer and inner sections by a row of thick screens. The outer section had a bronze mirror on a stand for people to adjust their clothing and appearance. Beside it were two wooden buckets—one filled halfway with clean water with a ladle hanging on the rim, the other for people to catch water when washing their hands. In the corner, a tall stand held burning incense with a faint fragrance.

As for the inner section, that was where people relieved themselves.

Yang Zhe pointed to the area near the entrance by the screen. “This humble official was attacked when I’d almost reached this spot. When I woke up, I was probably lying about here.”

The privy floor was paved with bluestone tiles. Though there were many traces like footprints, there were almost no discarded objects, so the blood stains on the blue tiles were easily discovered.

Cheng Maoming first stepped over the bloodstained area and walked into the inner section. Holding his nose, he looked around and found nothing unusual, then came back out and crouched down to examine the blood on the floor.

There wasn’t much blood, which matched Yang Zhe’s minor head injury.

Cheng Maoming quickly walked out.

Though there was incense in the privy, it ultimately wasn’t a pleasant place.

“Well?” Minister Shen asked.

“Nothing unusual in the privy,” Cheng Maoming said, looking at Yang Zhe. “Nor did I find the weapon that attacked Scholar Yang.”

Everyone looked at Yang Zhe.

“When I woke, I didn’t think to pay attention to such things,” Yang Zhe said regretfully.

At that moment, Chief Clerk Jia from the Ministry of Justice approached. “Sir, we’ve questioned everyone in the tavern. A total of six people went to the privies in this area. Four of them used the facilities, while two found them occupied and went back.”

Minister Shen immediately said: “Bring all six here.”

Soon six well-dressed tavern patrons were brought before them.