Laughter echoed through the hall as everyone present joined in, tapping the tables. Madam Tang, unlike the plump beauties celebrated in Chang’an, was slender and petite. Her willowy frame made her appear more like a victim than a perpetrator.
Undeterred, Zhu Yan stood up and bowed respectfully. “Your Highness King Ying, please understand. I had no intention of suspecting Madam Tang. It’s just that I encountered her outside Ximing Temple this morning. While everyone was alarmed by the news of over ten coffins unearthed in the temple, Madam Tang alone remained remarkably composed, as if detached from worldly concerns. Her unwavering demeanor, even in the face of such shocking news, was truly admirable. That’s why I felt compelled to ask.”
Zhu Yan spoke without a hint of nervousness, catching Shen Du’s attention.
King Ying, Princess Yong’an, was currently the most favored by Empress Zhou Zhao. Rumor had it that her strategic prowess rivaled that of Crown Prince Li Zhong. The Empress had even bestowed her with a noble title. If not for Minister Zhang’s faction’s efforts to protect the Crown Prince, this Princess might well have been sitting on the throne instead.
She was the only princess at court to be addressed as “Your Highness.”
“I see. Coming from a noble family, she naturally possesses a composure that ordinary people cannot match,” remarked Princess Yong’an. Ciran was Madam Tang’s given name.
Not intending to pursue the matter further, and wishing to win over the cabinet, Princess Yong’an changed the subject. “In your opinion, is the culprit truly a woman?”
Zhu Yan repeated her previous answer: “Eighty percent certain.”
“So, you’re not entirely sure,” Princess Yong’an turned to Shen Du. “What does the Grand Secretary think?”
Shen Du furrowed his brow. “Without sufficient evidence, I dare not jump to conclusions.”
“Hehe, the Grand Secretary is cautious in his affairs. It’s a blessing for Her Majesty,” Princess Yong’an chuckled. “However, I do have a question.”
When no one responded, Madam Tang obliged, “What question does Your Highness have?”
Princess Yong’an smiled lightly. “I believe the culprit cannot be a woman, nor could they live far away. Moving over ten corpses would be strenuous even for a man, let alone a woman. The bodies came from different locations, and if the culprit lived far away, it would take considerable time to traverse the streets. How could a woman possibly manage this? Ciran, what do you think?”
Madam Tang agreed, “I share Your Highness’s opinion.”
Zhu Yan kept her gaze lowered, not daring to overstep this time. She remained silent, staring at her feet.
There was no helping it. From the start, her hand had been in Shen Du’s grasp. The recent pain in her palm was his warning.
A warning was fine, but why hold her hand? Before them stood Princess Yong’an, the Empress’s favorite. Shouldn’t Shen Du seize this opportunity to distance himself from her?
“What about the Grand Secretary? Do you share my thoughts on this matter?” Princess Yong’an seemed to have naturally upturned lips, always hinting at a slight smile, disarming those around her.
Shen Du’s expression remained unreadable as if the discussion didn’t concern him. “The cabinet only considers facts and evidence. We don’t engage in baseless speculation.”
“Is that so?” Princess Yong’an lowered her silk fan, pressing her other hand on its surface. She raised her long lashes, her tone shifting. “If I remember correctly, Mother Empress didn’t task the Grand Secretary with investigating this serial murder case.”
The implication hung in the air – she meant protecting the second branch of the Liang family.
This couldn’t be said openly in front of everyone, but Shen Du, known as the White King of Hell, understood perfectly.
Zhu Yan felt the atmosphere growing increasingly tense. So this was how the powerful engaged in their struggles, fraught with danger.
Shen Du nodded, his thin lips curving into a deep arc. “I will report this matter to Her Majesty myself. Your Highness need not concern yourself.”
It was as if a polo mallet had struck, disappearing into the gentle breeze, leaving silence in its wake.
“Very well, that would be best. Mother Empress trusts the Grand Secretary, so naturally, I do too,” Princess Yong’an scrutinized Zhu Yan, narrowing her eyes. “I was merely intrigued by Madam Shen’s analysis of the case and wanted to inquire further. Ciran, don’t you agree?”
“Indeed,” Madam Tang fanned herself, glancing sideways at Zhu Yan with a soft voice. “Madam Shen is truly delightful. To have such insights at the tender age of sixteen, no wonder the Grand Secretary is so fond of her.” Her eyes lingered on their intertwined hands.
Shen Du narrowed his eyes. “Madam Tang flatters us. The deep love between you and your late husband remains a beautiful tale in the city. We pale in comparison.”
Yet he made no move to release Zhu Yan’s hand.
Zhu Yan: “…”
Madam Tang’s fan-waving hand froze for a moment before resuming. “I almost believed Madam Shen’s theory about a female culprit. However, how could a woman transport so many bodies from afar? And why to Ximing Temple? It’s an imperial temple, always bustling with visitors and watchful eyes. How could a frail woman avoid detection while transporting and burying so many corpses?”
“Haha, Ciran asks excellent questions. Madam Shen, please enlighten us,” Princess Yong’an clapped, her eyes twinkling with apparent innocence, though when narrowed, they mirrored Empress Zhou Zhao’s.
A merciless smile.
The questioned Zhu Yan lowered her head in thought, not answering. Or rather, no answer would suffice.
Moreover, as soon as Madam Tang approached, Zhu Yan felt a tightness in her chest, very oppressive.
“Ah!” A sharp pain shot through her. Zhu Yan looked up, glancing at everyone before bowing. “This humble wife doesn’t know.” She glared at Shen Du, who remained impassive, his gaze unwavering.
“This humble wife shares Your Highness King Ying’s doubts.”
“Oh?”
“You don’t know?”
“How disappointing.”
Princess Yong’an seemed to tire of the conversation. She waved her hand lightly, and her attendants came forward to support her. Suddenly, a clear sound rang out as the jade flower and bird-patterned comb fell from Princess Yong’an’s hair onto the table.
Zhu Yan quickly picked it up and offered it to Princess Yong’an, but the princess merely glanced at it briefly before withdrawing her apricot-colored half-sleeve robe.
“What’s lost is lost. Since this jade comb and I are not fated, consider it payment for the Grand Secretary and his wife’s meal. Let it commemorate our chance meeting today.”
Zhu Yan: “…”
Shen Du: “…”
“We thank Your Highness, King Ying. May Your Highness live ten thousand years. Safe journey, Your Highness.”
The atmosphere in the hall didn’t improve with Princess Yong’an’s departure. Shen Du and Zhu Yan sat facing each other, wordless.
Jing Lin held his chopsticks, eyeing the untouched dishes, repeatedly reaching out but not daring to take any food.
After a long while.
Shen Du moved, his clothes rustling. He looked at Zhu Yan. “Is this the extent of the Zhu family’s sixth daughter’s courage? Pale as a sheet, scared by King Ying?”
He never missed a chance to mock her.
Zhu Yan endured the pain: “Grand Secretary, if you don’t let go soon, it won’t just be me looking pale.”
Only then did Shen Du realize he had been gripping Zhu Yan’s hand too tightly. He abruptly released it, looking somewhat embarrassed. He coughed lightly:
“Did you notice?”