The rain fell heavily that night, drumming steadily against the carriage roof. Inside, a damp mustiness permeated the air, making it uncomfortable.
Lu Chang and Shu sat on opposite sides, keeping a person’s width between them. Lu Chang sat upright, stealing glances at Shu. She had her arms crossed, her body slightly curled against the carriage wall, eyes fixed on the floor. Her former vibrant spirit was nowhere to be seen.
“Shu, that night at the Water Fairy Temple, besides Zhou Xiuqing and Gao Shicai, did you truly not see anyone else?” Lu Chang’s voice broke the stifling silence.
Shu clenched her fists but didn’t look at him, answering curtly: “No!”
“But earlier in the room, you said something different,” Lu Chang hadn’t forgotten her reaction when he first raised this matter. At the time, seeing her emotional state, he hadn’t pressed further, but her decisive answer now made him suspicious.
“What did I say then?” Shu countered.
“You said ‘however’…” Lu Chang replied. That transition word hung in the air, but she never completed the thought.
“I was just confused,” Shu turned away and closed her eyes, refusing to engage further.
The carriage lapsed back into silence, filled only with the sound of rain and turning wheels. Shu was exhausted and tried to force herself to sleep to conserve energy, but the rest wouldn’t come.
When she closed her eyes, scenes she had never witnessed flooded her imagination, ultimately coalescing into Jian Jinhai’s face, dead with eyes wide open.
“Ah—”
She screamed and opened her eyes.
“Shu, what’s wrong?” Lu Chang, who had somehow moved beside her, turned quickly at her cry.
Terror lingered in her eyes for a moment before gradually fading, leaving only sweat on her brow.
“Had a nightmare?” Lu Chang reached to hold her trembling hand.
From outside came Cao Hai’s voice calling to stop the carriage. Before Lu Chang could grasp her hand, Shu wiped her forehead and asked, “Are we at the Great Xiangguo Temple?”
Lu Chang nodded and leaned out of the carriage.
“The ground is slippery, step down carefully,” he alighted first and extended his hand to help her.
Shu murmured “Thank you” but didn’t take his hand, lifting her skirts to jump down herself before walking straight into the temple without an umbrella. Lu Chang quickly grabbed one and hurried after her.
After the burning of the Chan platform and two deaths, the Great Xiangguo Temple was tightly surrounded by Imperial Guards. The public had dispersed, and no unauthorized persons could enter. Compared to the bustling Ullambana Festival, the vast temple grounds felt especially desolate. The day-long rain only added to the bleakness.
Lu Chang and Shu were led to the north wing to meet the Third Prince and Wei Zhuo. Song Qingzhao and Ying Xun were still at the temple, having not yet departed.
The Third Prince and Wei Zhuo’s expressions relaxed visibly upon seeing Lu Chang and Shu. Before their arrival, Song Qingzhao and Ying Xun had already detailed the events at the Universal Salvation Assembly and the Lu family case.
The two cases were now being investigated together.
After brief formalities, Shu began explaining Tang Li’s death and its connection to the Lu family case. She was the only one who had dealt with Tang Li before their death, and no one understood the sequence of events better than her.
After Shu finished her complete account, Song Qingzhao added: “I can verify Shu’s words. When I arrived, both Xie Xi and Tang Li were still breathing. Xie Xi intended to die together with Tang Li when striking the fatal blow.” He sighed softly before continuing, “Actually, after leaving Songling Academy, losing his eligibility for the imperial examinations, and being demoted to commoner status, Xie Xi was already broken.
He drowned his sorrows in alcohol daily. Combined with Tang Li using his departure to strike a blow, he became… Besides occasional financial support from his mother and rare visits from a few good friends, he seldom saw anyone.
I had visited him recently, and his mental state was quite unstable. His servant said he would leave mysteriously every day, never allowing anyone to follow, doing who knows what outside. When he returned, he would lock himself in and smash everything in his room to pieces. I think… he had been following Tang Li since then. Last night’s events weren’t spontaneous.”
He looked at Shu before continuing: “Though, fortunately, he acted, otherwise the consequences would have been unthinkable. I investigated the West Chan room – someone had tampered with the incense burner inside. Everyone resting in the wing was drugged unconscious, especially the Lu family and several households connected to the Su family case from years ago. They were even locked in the inner chamber. If the grass materials in the room had caught fire, there would have been no time for rescue.”
Even Song Qingzhao shuddered at the thought. His mother had been in Chan’s room at the time. When he went to check on her, Lady Xu only mentioned feeling dizzy. He had assumed she was merely overtired and didn’t investigate further, letting her continue resting while he left the room.
“It’s also fortunate we stopped the lantern ceremony in time. That batch of Kong lanterns was indeed problematic – over half had been tampered with. They would likely have fallen halfway through their flight, and given the wind direction that day, the probability of them landing on the West Chan room was high. A fire at that point would have seemed purely accidental,” Ying Xun explained.
This must have been Tang Li’s initial plan, but relying on the Kong lanterns couldn’t guarantee success. With Tang Li personally present, the backup plan was deliberate arson if the lanterns failed.
“Outrageous! Outrageous! To set such a vicious trap and harm innocents for personal vengeance!” The Third Prince slammed the table as he stood up, enraged.
Wei Zhuo remained calmer, asking: “According to what you’re saying, was the Chan platform incident also her doing?”
“Let me explain,” Lu Chang interjected, revealing how he had been threatened by Tang Li and convinced the Third Prince to play along with the scheme.
“She wanted to use the power of her patron for revenge, which meant she had to prove useful to them first – otherwise, why would they lend their strength to Tang Li? Threatening Master Lu to get the Third Prince onto the platform was both her way of proving herself to that person and a means of revenge, since if His Highness had truly met with an accident on the platform, the Lu family would have been implicated. Her arrangement aimed to achieve three goals at once, ultimately to destroy the Lu family completely.”
“But how did Zhou Xiuqing end up in their hands? Are they connected to that case too?”
“Probably not,” Shu answered.
Everyone turned to her in surprise.
“Shu has remembered something,” Lu Chang said softly.
The others were greatly puzzled – no wonder Shu had been different tonight.
She hadn’t smiled once since entering the room.
“Shu thanks the Third Prince, the Commander, and everyone for their concern regarding the Jian family case,” Shu bowed to the group before continuing slowly, “The Jian family case likely has no connection to Tang Li’s patron. Otherwise, they would never have allowed Zhou Xiuqing to live until now, let alone almost deliver this crucial witness into our hands.”
If Prince Yu had been involved in the Jian family robbery, his first action would have been to silence witnesses, not use them for threats against Lu Chang, as Zhou Xiuqing’s existence posed the greatest threat to the true culprit.
Though no one named Prince Yu directly, everyone understood.
“Yes, I agree with Shu’s assessment,” Lu Chang added, “The Third Prince taking over the Kaifeng Prefecture already posed a significant threat to that person. The Jian family case was the first major case His Highness personally petitioned the Emperor to handle. If solved successfully, it would establish his authority and credibility. That person… would naturally want to interfere.”
The best way to prevent Zhao Jingran from achieving merit was to muddy the waters.
Song Qingzhao’s encounter with Prince Yu’s subordinates in Jiangning was likely due to the Prince’s spies there learning of developments. They then used Lu Chang to intercept Zhou Xiuqing outside the capital, making the case increasingly complex.
“The assassination attempt on Shu that day must have also resulted from that person informing Gao Shicai of her existence. As one of the main culprits, knowing Shu was still alive, Gao Shicai feared his crimes would be exposed and, in desperation, sent assassins to the capital.”
This had been what puzzled Lu Chang most – even if his men sent to Jiangning had stirred things up, they hadn’t mentioned Shu. Gao Shicai couldn’t have learned so quickly that Shu was hiding in the capital and was the Top Scholar’s sister. At the time, he suspected Gao Shicai had connections in the capital, but now it appeared different. Prince Yu’s reach didn’t extend to Jiangning.
It was now impossible to determine how much Tang Li was involved in this – whether it was her idea or that person’s. But looking at the chain of events that followed, they likely originated from Tang Li.
“If so, these two cases have no connection to the Jian family robbery. Then the culprits in the Jian family case…” Zhao Jingran frowned as he looked at Shu.
Wei Zhuo and Song Qingzhao also turned to her.
Shu spoke quietly: “I’m sorry, that night I only saw Gao Shicai and Zhou Xiuqing. I didn’t see anyone else, nor did I hear a third name.”
As she finished speaking, she saw Zhao Jingran’s disappointment.
Lu Chang’s heart ached as he said: “You have nothing to apologize for. This isn’t your fault.”
“Shu, we’ll get to the bottom of this case eventually. If this path is blocked, we’ll find another,” Song Qingzhao consoled her gently.
Wei Zhuo said gravely: “Girl, don’t worry. We’ll find the true culprits and give your family justice.”
“Thank you,” Shu whispered, head bowed.
Zhao Jingran was about to offer more words of comfort when suddenly someone outside announced that an Imperial Eunuch had arrived from the palace, summoning him for an audience with the Emperor.
“Third Prince, please go ahead. Leave this to me,” Wei Zhuo cupped his hands in salute.
An Imperial summons couldn’t be delayed. Zhao Jingran straightened his robes and hurriedly departed with his men. Lu Chang watched him leave before turning to Wei Zhuo: “Uncle Wei, have you found evidence of the plot against the Third Prince?”
Though unconnected to the Jian family case, the attempt on the Third Prince’s life was certain – surely they could track down the culprits.
Unexpectedly, Wei Zhuo shook his head: “The Chan platform was burned clean. Though we can’t find physical evidence of tampering that would have caused a fall, the Ministry of Works’ investigation did uncover the culprit who sabotaged it. A carpenter responsible for building the platform was bribed to tamper with the mortise and tenon joints, but he can only implicate Liu Wan’er.”
“What about Liu Wan’er then?”
“We’ve interrogated Liu Wan’er, but she’s no ordinary person. Even under torture, she insists her only superior was Tang Li, with no one else involved. Everything was done on Tang Li’s orders. But Tang Li is dead now, leaving no one to confront. The only questionable point is that Tang Li frequented that person’s residence, but she held no official position as concubine, making it difficult to make direct accusations,” Wei Zhuo explained.
“Uncle Wei, have you questioned Liu Wan’er about the platform fire? Was she behind it?” Shu suddenly asked.
Wei Zhuo shook his head: “She admits to tampering with the platform but denies involvement in the fire, even under pain of death. I’ve also questioned the temple monks, finding no suspicious points. Everyone allowed near the platform that day had their identities strictly verified by the Imperial Guards before entry. Outsiders were strictly forbidden, so the possibility of problems seems low.”
That fire did appear to be an accident.
Shu lowered her eyes without argument.
But there had been an exception that day, hadn’t there?
The sky grew increasingly dark, and the rain fell harder, its sound unceasing.
The case analysis drained everyone’s energy, and they retired to the temple wings to rest as midnight approached.
It seemed like no time had passed before dawn broke and the rain stopped, leaving only water dripping from the eaves.
Lu Chang had only slept for two hours before waking. When he left his room dressed, only a few monks were sweeping in the courtyard. Shu’s door remained tightly closed – he didn’t know how she had spent the night. He paused briefly in the courtyard before walking toward the Main Hall.
Life in the temple hadn’t changed despite recent events. The monks continued their morning prayers as usual. As Lu Chang stepped into the empty courtyard outside the Main Hall, the bell marking the end of morning prayers rang out solemnly.
The burned platform framework hadn’t been cleared away, the surrounding devastation preserved as it had been that day. Lu Chang walked a complete circuit around it before climbing the pavilion on the Main Hall’s west side.
The two-story pavilion had a viewing gallery on the upper floor – the place Wei Zhuo had used to oversee everything that day. Lu Chang walked to the gallery, where a gust of wind blew his temple hair askew.
He leaned on the railing and gazed into the distance, standing there for nearly half an hour before descending and slowly making his way back to the wing. Just as he reached the Chan courtyard entrance, he encountered the Imperial Eunuch bearing an edict.
“Deputy Magistrate Lu Chang of Kaifeng Prefecture, receive the Imperial Edict…”
The Emperor had just issued the decree that morning – for impersonating a prince and ascending the Chan platform, desecrating the sacred, and appearing to deceive the Emperor, he was to be immediately stripped of his position as Deputy Magistrate…
“Your subject receives the edict with thanks,” Lu Chang knelt to accept it.
As he rose, the eunuch patted his shoulder and left with words of sympathy. Lu Chang’s expression remained unchanged as he turned to see Shu’s door now open, her figure quietly leaning against it, watching.
Ten years of diligent study had earned him this opportunity for advancement. His career should have been smooth sailing, it shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have ended this way…