The shop assistants began lighting lamps as it was past the hour of You, but the street market remained as lively as ever.
Shen Du withdrew his cold gaze, raising his hand to brush open his brocade dragon-patterned cloak. He lowered his head to re-examine the sesame seed in his hand, then chuckled and flicked it away to join the dust.
Suddenly, a voice interjected: “What’s the bet? The Grand Commander doesn’t gamble, but I’ll bet with you.”
Jinglin felt deeply that he needed to reclaim the face for his Grand Commander and put this Zhang family spy in her place, making her realize one thing:
Fighting against the White King of Hell was a dead end.
After this passionate mental preparation, he saw the woman’s doe eyes curve into crescents: “Very well.”
Jinglin felt that today’s sunset seemed slightly inferior compared to the woman before him.
However, seeing the calculation in Zhu Yan’s eyes, Jinglin shook his head. It was just an illusion.
“If you win and the culprit is male, I’ll request a divorce. Even…” Zhu Yan’s eyes dimmed slightly, “My life will be at the Grand Commander’s disposal.”
Jinglin was shocked, but before he could respond, Zhu Yan continued:
“If I win and you lose, proving the culprit is female, then the Grand Commander will personally divorce me, and my life remains my own.”
Shen Du lowered his eyes, his right hand toying with a teacup. Hearing this, he suddenly raised his gaze, cold light flashing.
Beads of sweat formed on Jinglin’s temples: “I can’t decide the Grand Commander’s affairs.”
Zhu Yan ignored him:
“I want to add one more condition.”
“Please speak!” Jinglin replied as if at a funeral, his voice weak.
Zhu Yan grinned, pushing forward the lamb bone she had finished eating, and pointed: “You must then beat drums and gongs around Chang’an City once, shouting ‘Internal Guard Jinglin’s judgment is inferior to Sixth Miss Zhu’s’. How about that?”
Her almond eyes sparkled with cleverness and the mischievous triumph of successfully teasing someone.
Shen Du’s eyes curved slightly, rarely seeing such a playful side of her personality.
Under everyone’s gaze, Jinglin slowly knelt before Shen Du, cupped his hands, and kowtowed. The atmosphere was heavy.
The diners in the hall didn’t dare breathe, some even casting sympathetic glances at Zhu Yan.
Sixth Miss Zhu must have a death wish.
“Agreed!”
With the man’s words, the matter was settled. Jinglin wiped his sweat, secretly punching himself a few times. Why did he provoke this woman again after being tricked once?
He shouldn’t have, truly shouldn’t have.
No one noticed the fleeting, precious smile that flashed across Shen Du’s lips.
Today, just this one meal, just this moment, was similar to their wedding night. However, if the wedding had truly proceeded smoothly today, what awaited him would probably not be a meal, but… swords, spears, halberds, and the eighteen tortures of the Internal Guard’s prison.
Of course, Shen Du would never have allowed the wedding to proceed smoothly.
“Hehe…”
A sudden coquettish laugh rang out. Zhu Yan lightly stroked the unpleasant feeling on the back of her hand, only to see a glimpse of a red skirt with gold trim emerge from behind the curtain on the second floor. Someone with a butterfly and peony silk fan in one hand beckoned with the other, wearing phoenix shoes and a phoenix hairpin, sweeping down to the two of them like a gust of wind.
This person had a broad forehead and strong chin, dragon eyes and a phoenix neck, an extraordinary bearing with a subtle aura of authority – the air of someone who had been in a high position since childhood.
Zhu Yan roughly guessed the newcomer’s identity, imperceptibly shaking her head. What a pity – though the features were fine, the sun and moon angles at the temples were a bit shallow. In a fortune teller’s words, probably not destined for the throne.
But rumor had it that this person didn’t lack imperial ambitions.
“Prince Ying.”
Shen Du stood up to salute, kicking Zhu Yan under the table to alert her.
Zhu Yan suddenly came to her senses and also stood to salute: “Long live Prince Ying.”
“Hehe, no need for such formalities. Please rise.”
The crowd in the hall finally stood up. Princess Yong’an of Prince Ying lowered her head to examine Zhu Yan, her phoenix eyes carrying a trace of sharpness:
“So you’re the Sixth Miss of the Zhu family?”
Zhu Yan was startled. Before she could answer, a lady-in-waiting beside the princess softly said: “It must be her. She just wagered on the case, seeking divorce. Look how clever she is, even manipulating the Grand Commander. Zhang Xiang’s skill in training people is no exaggeration.”
Zhu Yan frowned. She could roughly tell that this person beside Princess Yong’an was targeting her. Every sentence, though unrelated, made her the target. To praise someone at this level, could they be some kind of refined spirit?
“This lady jests. This lowly official…” Zhu Yan paused, staring at the silk fan in the hand of the lady beside Princess Yong’an. It was the same white peony silk fan she had seen outside Ximing Temple.
“This lowly official is but a ninth-rank scribe in the Ministry of Justice, responsible for recording case inquiries. I don’t know what connection there is with the Zhang Xiang this lady mentions?”
Zhu Yan looked at Shen Du again: “Now that I’m married to my husband, I naturally defer to him.”
Shen Du’s gaze fell on her. Zhu Yan pursed her lips and smiled, looking natural. Those words seemed sincere. Shen Du didn’t look at her, instead turning to the lady:
“What? Does Lady Tang think I, Shen, have some collusion with Zhang Xiang?”
The woman addressed as Lady Tang brought the peony white silk fan close to her nose bridge and lowered her eyes:
“I wouldn’t dare. The Grand Commander jests.”
Zhu Yan bit her lip. Her gaze had just fallen on Shen Du’s eyes when he immediately looked away…
After a brief moment of calculation, Zhu Yan stepped forward and took one of Shen Du’s hands in hers, gentle and sorrowful:
“Husband, please let your wife investigate the case. I won’t mention divorce again. I’ll listen to you from now on.”
Zhu Yan’s doe eyes were misty, her cat-like lips cherry red. As she shook Shen Du’s arm like this, she resembled a cat asking for attention in the morning…
Shen Du’s expression was intriguing. Jinglin’s outstretched hand hung in the air, unsure whether to withdraw.
His master had been… taken advantage of.
“Haha, I wondered what was happening. So it’s bedroom play. I misunderstood you two.”
Princess Yong’an was helped to sit down, with Lady Tang seated to her right. The thin veil slipped, revealing a fair wrist with distinct joints and slight calluses.
Almost simultaneously, Zhu Yan caught a whiff of borneol incense and couldn’t help but glance at Lady Tang a few more times.
“Has the lady been to Ximing Temple? Today at the hour of Chen?”
Lady Tang nodded slightly: “Yes, I set out at the end of the hour of Yin to go to Ximing Temple to pray for my late husband.”
“Indeed,”
Zhu Yan hadn’t expected Lady Tang to admit it directly. “There was a serial killing at Ximing Temple today, with twelve bodies dug up in total. The temple gates were closed long ago. Why did Lady Tang remain there?”
Lady Tang didn’t answer immediately. She first glanced at Princess Yong’an, then swept her gaze over Shen Du before withdrawing it. She maintained her calm demeanor:
“If others could stay, why couldn’t I?”
Those black eyes carefully scanned Zhu Yan, while the face below them remained carefully covered.
“Is Madam Shen suspecting me?”
At this, Princess Yong’an also looked over curiously:
“You were just betting on whether the killer was male or female. What’s this? Madam Shen, are you suspecting Lady Tang to be the female killer you mentioned?”