After Shen Du became the Cabinet Leader, the Court of Inquisition continued to exist and remained the Empress’s most valued institution. Shen Du also became the Empress’s right-hand man in eliminating her opponents.
“I originally thought the Empress would bring about a golden age of peace and prosperity. But in the end, what we got was the Black and White King of Hell,” Marquis Mo Qianzhi lamented.
“Denouncing meritorious officials everywhere, inventing a bunch of bizarre torture devices, throwing the entire court into chaos.”
He let out a long sigh.
“Without the Empress’s permission, who could accomplish such things?”
Anything related to Lai Luozhi was bound to be ruthless, brutal, and tyrannical.
“With someone who takes pleasure in killing in power, what hope is there for this country? And you,” Mo Qianzhi pointed at Shen Du, his eyes roiling with emotion, “you did nothing. Instead, you became that woman’s executioner. You forgot your true nature once you gained wealth and status.”
Looking at the current state of the court, it was clear the Empress would stop at nothing to consolidate imperial power. First, she established the Court of Inquisition and then set up the Grand Cabinet.
On the surface, she claimed it was for the people’s benefit.
In reality, it was merely to strengthen her own authority.
After a moment’s contemplation, Shen Du sneered, “I’m well aware that I’m nothing more than a tool in her hands—a rather useful tool.”
Many expected him to be grateful for the Empress’s grace in reemploying the son of a convicted criminal. Indeed, it was an act of benevolence, and he acted accordingly. He maintained a cold demeanor and cold heart, serving only the Empress. At her command, he became her swiftest sword.
But he never forgot his purpose for surviving in this world—to clear the Shen family’s name.
He turned over the small woven pig, examining it closely. Memories of his father weaving it, the image of it falling to the ground and being kicked away during a body search only for him to retrieve it, and the scene of his father’s beheading—all these remained vivid in his mind.
He had never forgotten.
“The old case of the Shen family must be related to the Lai Party,” Shen Du attempted to sit up, but his weakened body forced him to fall back. “After the establishment of the Cabinet, I pursued the investigation. But the case against the Shen family was ironclad, without any loopholes. Although there were many indications of the Lai Party’s involvement, there was no concrete evidence to prove it. I was helpless, having worked alongside him for many years in court.”
Mo Qianzhi retorted sarcastically, “Now you can say whatever you want.”
Shen Du remained silent, acknowledging the truth of this statement. He did not attempt to defend himself. “You should leave quickly. It’s not safe to linger here.”
Mo Qianzhi shared the same thought. “After we part today, there will be no chance of meeting again. Is there anything left unsaid?”
Shen Du lowered his head to look at Zhu Yan, his worry intensifying. His body, already barely holding on, could not withstand it. A sweet, metallic taste rose in his throat, and a mouthful of fresh blood gushed out, staining the bed curtains and quilt. It seeped into the fabric, like the spider lilies by the Bridge of Helplessness, exuding a beautiful yet deadly allure.
His gaze lingered on Zhu Yan. Since she had married him, she hadn’t known a single day of peace.
He had truly burdened her.
Guilt welled up, making him feel wretched. “If you succeed one day, please spare her and my brothers in the Imperial Guard.”
Mo Qianzhi agreed verbally and turned to leave, but his feet hesitated, as if unsure whether to speak.
“Please, speak freely,” Shen Du gestured, wiping the corner of his mouth.
Seeing this, Mo Qianzhi narrowed his eyes, his lips bitter: “Regarding the old case of the Shen family, I’ve been investigating the inside story all these years. Although the Lai Party led the case, it was carried out with the Empress’s tacit approval, and even pushed forward by the Li Party.”
To bring down the Shen family, even opposing factions were willing to set aside their differences and cooperate.
“The reason?”
“Because your father was indifferent to court politics and unwilling to get involved in factional struggles. But the fact that he was highly valued by the previous Emperor Gaozong was enough to offend everyone’s interests.”
Shen Shijie didn’t care who held power; he was concerned about the common people. No matter who was in power, he served loyally, as long as the people were at peace.
After a moment of contemplation, Shen Du looked up at Mo Qianzhi. “If that’s true, the Empress wouldn’t have spared me just because you knelt and begged.”
He was sixteen at the time, not a three-year-old child. He remembered the grudge of his father’s murder.
The Empress’s actions were too illogical.
“After the Empress ascended the throne, she left a trail of blood and violence. How could she not know the principle of eliminating problems at the root? Keeping me alive is like nurturing a future threat.”
This reasoning wasn’t without merit. Even Mo Qianzhi had doubted his own investigation because of it.
“If that’s the case, the Empress’s willingness to spare you, the son of a convicted criminal, might be part of a larger scheme.”
This conjecture sent chills down both their spines. Could today’s situation also be part of that grand plan?
Shen Du coughed up another mouthful of fresh blood, his spirit waning. He turned away from Zhu Yan and collapsed on the other side, continuously vomiting blood.
It seemed his time would come tonight.
Mo Qianzhi’s eyes filled with pity. He walked over and bent down to support Shen Du. “Perhaps death is for the best. Once dead…”
What then?
Shen Du looked up and was shocked to see Mo Qianzhi’s eyes bulging, blood spurting from his mouth and nose. His body, half-supporting Shen Du, swayed unsteadily.
The sudden turn of events left Shen Du stunned. He abruptly widened his eyes, looking behind Mo Qianzhi.
Zhu Yan had drawn a knife. Her hands trembled as she dropped the dissecting scalpel, which clattered noisily on the ground. She stood frozen before the two men.
Having never killed before, she hadn’t recovered from her panic. Seeing Shen Du’s bewildered and pale face, she hurriedly pushed Mo Qianzhi away and cried out:
“Shen Du, don’t die. I don’t want you to die.”
Shen Du, still in shock, asked in a hoarse voice, “I’m fine. Did you think he was trying to kill me?”
Zhu Yan, alarmed, helped him sit up properly and exclaimed, “Wasn’t he?”
For a moment, Shen Du didn’t know how to respond.
Seeing Shen Du’s hesitation, Zhu Yan understood.
When Zhu Yan had awakened, she saw Mo Qianzhi leaning towards Shen Du, who was hunched over, vomiting blood incessantly. She thought Mo Qianzhi was attempting to kill Shen Du.
Without a second thought, she had taken the thin dissecting scalpel from her personal bag and stabbed Mo Qianzhi in the heart.
Years of dissecting bodies had made her intimately familiar with human anatomy. One strike was fatal.
Mo Qianzhi bent slightly, looking at Shen Du, managing a bitter smile.
“It seems I’ll have no chance to investigate the truth behind the Shen family case with you.”
Before he could finish, another mouthful of blood gushed out. His body swayed, no longer able to stand. He half-knelt on the ground.
“It looks like I’ll be leaving a step ahead of you.”
Shen Du wanted to object, but Mo Qianzhi stopped him. He coughed incessantly, his throat seeming to have a hole in it, his speech accompanied by a wheezing sound:
“These past few days, I discovered that Chen Huoe’s body houses a woman. It’s very strange.”
“Of course, because he is actually a woman.”
Shen Du looked at Zhu Yan, who stood dumbfounded, staring at the blood on her hands.
Gripping Shen Du’s shoulders and staring intently at him, Mo Qianzhi sought to confirm the truth of his words. Shen Du spoke again:
“He is Lai Luozhi. I told you about her skill in changing her voice. The Fire Moth Party is just a tool Lai Luozhi uses to throw the Great Zhou into chaos.”
What?
Mo Qianzhi felt a throbbing pain in his temples. He spat out blood, his expression frenzied:
“I thought you were deceiving me, but it turns out to be true. Haven’t I then been conspiring with the tiger, aiding the tyrant?”
Silence fell. Shen Du didn’t know what to say, but suddenly Mo Qianzhi grabbed Shen Du’s wrist and pushed the dissecting scalpel an inch deeper into his own body.
The sound of the blade entering flesh was painfully clear.
Mo Qianzhi’s eyebrows and eyes trembled with pain, his neck arching from the agony. But his face showed a resolute determination to die. He abruptly pushed Shen Du away, kneeling on the ground and gasping for air, his laughter tinged with sorrow:
“Shen Du, cough cough cough, you must obtain the antidote. You cannot die. You must uncover the truth and fulfill my lifelong wish,” his breathing became labored, “Overthrow, overthrow…” this world.
With these words, his breathing ceased. He collapsed onto Shen Du, no longer moving. Shen Du’s hand rested on his shoulder, a chill running through his body, his eyes filled with sorrow, his face grim.
Mo Qianzhi had come to bid farewell to him, yet he had departed first, dying in a gesture of concern for an old friend due to a cruel twist of fate.
Perhaps it was heaven’s jealousy of talent, or perhaps it was destined to be so.