The person asking was Zhu Nanxian.

Su Jin said, “Much better now. Many thanks for Your Highness’s concern.”

Zhu Nanxian paused, then said with an air of profundity, “Magistrate Su, a word in private.”

Su Jin couldn’t help glancing at Liu Chaoming.

Liu Chaoming was also staring at her. After a long silence, he swallowed back the latter half of his unfinished sentence, folded his sleeves and bowed again to Zhu Nanxian, then turned and left.

Zhu Nanxian raised his hand to dismiss everyone around them, then asked, “Magistrate Su, do you have any old acquaintance who committed a crime and was arrested by the Ministry of Justice?”

Su Jin had been looking downward, but upon hearing the words “old acquaintance,” she suddenly raised her eyes.

Her eyes blazed like fire. Zhu Nanxian was seized by this gaze, his heart stuttering before he could continue, “Could this person be the death row prisoner you requested from the Ministry of Justice?”

Su Jin came to her senses, realizing he was speaking of the death row prisoner the Ministry of Justice had brought to Vermillion Bird Lane on the day of the disturbance.

The light in her eyes dimmed in an instant.

Before she left that day, she had glanced at that death row prisoner. Though she didn’t remember what he looked like, she still had a sense in her heart whether or not it was Chao Qing.

Su Jin said, “Your Highness may not know, but this death row prisoner was actually sent by Lord Liu of the Imperial Censorate through the Ministry of Justice. To prevent the situation from spiraling out of control, he was kept as a fallback option to make an example of someone, but unfortunately arrived too late and wasn’t needed.”

However, upon hearing these words, Zhu Nanxian blinked and said, “This Prince has specifically interrogated him, and this death row prisoner says he knows you.”

Seeing Su Jin look at him in surprise, Zhu Nanxian coughed again and straightened his posture, “Naturally, this Prince is tied up with military affairs and didn’t personally interrogate him—my subordinates relayed that this death row prisoner even knows you once passed the imperial examination and later served as a minor official in Songshan County for two years.”

This was rather beyond Su Jin’s expectations.

Since returning from Songshan County to the capital, the people she’d befriended were, apart from those in the Yingtian Prefecture Office, none other than Chao Qing and a few tribute scholars. Besides these, who else could know her so thoroughly?

Su Jin couldn’t help asking, “Then does Your Highness know why this death row prisoner knows me?”

Zhu Nanxian said, “He’s quite clever—only says half of what he knows. He won’t confess anything else, just keeps insisting he’s been wronged.”

Su Jin paused—a death row prisoner who had been wronged?

But Liu Chaoming had extracted him from the Ministry of Justice precisely because his death sentence was ironclad and his execution was imminent, making him suitable for making an example.

Thinking of this, Su Jin suddenly felt something was wrong.

If he was to be made an example of, then the authorities would certainly have to execute him in front of all the scholars. Although this could temporarily control the situation, it would ultimately lead to public outrage and make the aftermath even harder to manage.

Liu Chaoming’s original intention in coming to the capital office was to minimize this case. If a death resulted, wouldn’t that contradict his original intention—like lifting a rock only to drop it on his own foot?

If not for the rioting scholars, what was Liu Chaoming’s purpose in extracting a death row prisoner from the Ministry of Justice?

Su Jin asked, “Does my lord know what crime this death row prisoner committed?”

Zhu Nanxian said, “Can’t pry his mouth open.”

Su Jin carefully recalled that day—from beginning to end, Liu Chaoming had only said one thing: I will extract a death row prisoner from the Ministry of Justice for you.

For her?

Thinking of this, Su Jin couldn’t help asking, “Thirteenth Prince, where is that death row prisoner now? Has he already been executed?”

Zhu Nanxian had laid extensive groundwork precisely to wait for Su Jin at this point.

He had indeed personally interrogated this death row prisoner, but he neither threatened nor tortured him—one could hardly call it not being able to pry his mouth open.

That day Su Jin had been seriously injured, and he had truly been worried. He had originally wanted to personally visit the capital office to check on her condition, but the estate’s chief steward had desperately blocked him, saying that if he, a dignified prince, condescended to visit a mere eighth-rank minor official, not only would it shock all the large and small officials of the office, but Magistrate Su would also be unable to recuperate in peace afterward.

Upon careful consideration, Zhu Nanxian also thought this made sense. After digging out from the death row prisoner’s mouth that he was Su Jin’s “old acquaintance,” and determining nothing else mattered whether he spoke or not, he ordered the prisoner placed in his别苑 villa, daily hoping Su Jin would come to claim him.

Unfortunately, he waited left and right without seeing anyone, and truly couldn’t bear it any longer.

Zhu Nanxian had arranged all this for many days and had his emotions perfectly under control, saying as if casually, “Oh, the Ministry of Justice didn’t know how to handle him and turned the death row prisoner over to this Prince. This Prince could only reluctantly place him in the Prince’s residence.”

He glanced at Su Jin’s expression from the corner of his eye and asked knowingly, “What, does Magistrate Su wish to see him? Then tomorrow morning this Prince will have subordinates go to the office to fetch Magistrate Su?”

Su Jin thought again of Liu Chaoming’s words, “extract a death row prisoner for you.”

What did a death row prisoner have to do with her? Currently, what worried her most was Chao Qing’s whereabouts.

Coming to the palace today, Yan Ziyan’s fire had burned not only the essay but also the debt of gratitude from her protecting Yan Ziqi that day.

With kindness and grudges both settled, he was also unwilling to let her trace Chao Qing’s whereabouts through Yan Ziqi.

Su Jin also felt she was becoming paranoid, but suddenly, she couldn’t help placing her hopes on Liu Chaoming, hoping this death row prisoner of unknown origin might somehow be related to Chao Qing’s disappearance—otherwise, why would he be “for her”?

Not willing to let more troubles arise from delay, Su Jin said to Zhu Nanxian, “If Your Highness has time, could this subordinate meet with this person tonight?”

At the Prince’s residence.

The estate’s chief steward Zheng Yun was already waiting at the gate. Seeing Su Jin following behind Zhu Nanxian, he was overjoyed and didn’t greet His Highness first but instead said, “Magistrate Su has finally arrived.”

Su Jin thought to herself, what did he mean by “finally”?

Seeing her puzzled expression, Zheng Yun continued, “Magistrate may not know, but His Highness has had this humble one waiting here for several days, insisting we wait until you arrived. This humble one has hoped day and night to see you come.”

Zheng Yun’s original intention was to say something favorable for his prince, but unexpectedly upon these words, Zhu Nanxian stumbled, turned around, and gave him a meaningful look.

Zhu Nanxian invited Su Jin to the southern garden, changed out of his restrictive python robe, and ordered servants to bring the death row prisoner.

The bright moon of early summer hung high in the sky, and a pool of fresh lotus flowers clustered together. Lotus seed and lily soup was currently fashionable, and Zheng Yun had someone present a bowl to Su Jin as well.

Before long, the death row prisoner was brought over.

The person had an unfamiliar face, wore coarse short clothing, was large and burly, and first poked his head in to ask Zheng Yun, “Which one wants to see me?” Hearing it was Su Jin, his whole body trembled, and with a thud he knelt before her.

This person was named Zhang Kui and had once been a coroner at the capital office. Two years ago, finding the office work too exhausting, he had requested to resign.

He didn’t actually know Su Jin, but before resigning, the office had mentioned that a magistrate surnamed Su was being transferred from Songshan County, someone who had once passed the imperial examination, causing quite a stir.

In Zhang Kui’s view, those who passed the imperial examinations were people of great talent who should properly present governance strategies in Fengtian Hall. Even if assigned to local offices, they should at least be given positions as prefect or vice prefect, or at minimum county magistrate—there was no reason why becoming a magistrate should count as a promotion.

Zhang Kui had now committed a crime and had originally thought death was certain. Unexpectedly, after several twists and turns he was brought to the Prince’s residence, where daily he was questioned about his relationship with Su Jin.

Not understanding the situation, he guessed it was because of Su Jin that his life was spared, so he dug out the only threads he had in his mind and told them to Zhu Nanxian.

Unexpectedly, it was quite effective. The Thirteenth Prince, a dignified legitimate imperial son, truly hadn’t done anything to him.

Su Jin momentarily didn’t know where to begin questioning.

However, Zhang Kui, as if seeing a life-saving bodhisattva, kowtowed three loud times to her and directly recounted his alleged crime.

According to Zhang Kui’s account, he truly had been wronged—

That night, Zhang Kui went to the mass burial grounds outside the city as usual.

He had been a coroner at the office for ten years. Although he no longer did that work, he always had some ways to make money.

Bodies at the charity cemetery had all “passed through his hands” and had no valuables, but the mass burial grounds were different—one might encounter something “lucrative.”

That night, he found something lucrative.

Zhang Kui said, “I saw from afar a young woman standing at the mass burial grounds, dressed in silk and brocade. Thinking she was the wife of some wealthy family, I called out twice. She didn’t respond, so I walked over and patted her. Who knew she would fall at a touch? Only then did I discover she had already stopped breathing, yet her complexion was still rosy and she looked very beautiful, just like she was alive.”

Zhang Kui felt somewhat afraid in his heart, but thinking wealth comes from taking risks, he gritted his teeth and reached toward the corpse. Just as he touched a jade pendant, he was struck on the back of his head and lost consciousness.

After that, the Ministry of Justice had its records.

Zhang Kui woke up in the office prison. The madam of Xinyue Pavilion accused him of raping and murdering their top courtesan Ning Yan’er. Unable to withstand torture, he made a false confession. He was originally to be executed that very day when inexplicably someone extracted him and brought him to Vermillion Bird Lane.

Su Jin heard just the beginning and already had numerous doubts.

Such cases should ordinarily be handled by the capital office—how did this one go directly to the Ministry of Justice?

She asked, “You served at the office and should know this matter wouldn’t reach the Ministry of Justice. Did you never suspect anything?”

Zhang Kui said, “I did ask, but would those damned jailers waste words with someone like me?”

Su Jin asked again, “Can you remember exactly which day you went to the mass burial grounds?”

Zhang Kui thought carefully and said, “I remember—the seventh day of the fourth month! That was my father-in-law’s birthday. I wanted to strip that jade pendant to celebrate his birthday!”

The day Chao Qing disappeared was the ninth day of the fourth month.

Su Jin froze for a moment. She had finally found a faintly visible thread among the countless trivial details.

According to Ministry of Justice records, the deceased woman was Xinyue Pavilion’s top courtesan Ning Yan’er.

Xu Yuanzhe had told her that before Chao Qing disappeared, he had gone alone to the pleasure district.

Su Jin asked again, “Can you prove what you say is true?”

Zhang Kui made a bitter face, “I cannot.” But he suddenly added, “I hid the jade pendant I stripped off in a wall crack in the Ministry of Justice prison. It won’t be easily discovered. Officer Su can have someone search for it.” He thought again and said urgently, “I know that jade pendant cannot exonerate me, but it can at least prove I truly sought money and didn’t covet beauty, much less intend to take a life.”

Hearing these words, Su Jin felt troubled again. She was merely a magistrate—how could she break into the Ministry of Justice prison to find evidence?

Zhu Nanxian had been standing to the side listening for a long while and finally his turn came to be useful again. He coughed and said, “If Magistrate Su finds herself stretched thin, this Prince can first order people to investigate this matter.”

Fearing Su Jin wouldn’t be reassured, he volunteered, “Since there’s an injustice, investigating is good. This Prince will personally monitor it. With any progress, I’ll immediately have someone inform you, and you can make all the decisions.”