Huang Zixa silently nodded, but the Emperor behind her furiously interrupted her questioning: “Stop asking about all these irrelevant matters! First, confess everything about how you killed the Princess!”

Lü Zhiyuan lowered his head and said: “I took the fake Nine-Phoenix Hairpin and hid outside the Princess’s residence, following her to Pingkang Ward. When the Princess was blocked on the road and got out of her carriage, I successfully lured her over. In the chaos, I led her to a secluded spot and confessed to her my crimes of killing the eunuch in her household and Sun Laizi, telling her my daughter was innocent and begging her to save Dicui. But she wouldn’t even look at me, just staring at the grass on the ground with a cold smile. I knelt down and desperately begged her to have the Court of Judicial Review release Dicui. But the Princess was in an extremely bad mood and immediately told us both to prepare for death, saying… saying, not only would I die, but my daughter wouldn’t survive either!”

As the Emperor listened to him describe Princess Tongchang’s final moments, sitting in his chair, he seemed to see again his daughter’s unrestrained, proud, and willful appearance. Those sharp, thin features were like the most easily broken icicle, yet still so stubborn and unyielding.

The Emperor felt his chest hurt so much he could barely breathe. He gripped the chair’s armrests tightly, glaring at Lü Zhiyuan, unable to squeeze out a single word.

“At that moment, I was terrified. If the Princess left, both Dicui and I would die… I had already killed two enemies, and I was old, what did death matter to me? But Dicui… Dicui was so young, like a newly sprouted flower bud, how could she die with me?” At this point, Lü Zhiyuan finally broke from his previous quiet reserve. He excitedly pounded his chest with his fist, as if trying to vomit out the blood inside, “At that moment, that moment I suddenly thought… two people involved in this matter were already dead… if the Princess died too, wouldn’t that prove that Dicui, who was in the Court of Judicial Review, she… she was innocent?”

Among the silent crowd in the hall, Lü Zhiyuan’s hoarse, dry voice left everyone not knowing how to respond.

“So, I… caught up to her and thrust that hairpin tail into her heart…”

Consort Guo let out a crazed cry, looking as if she would rush into the hall. The eunuchs and maids beside her hurriedly held her back, but couldn’t stop her from crying out in anguish: “Your Majesty, Linghui… Linghui died at the hands of such a despicable person! Your Majesty…”

The Emperor sat in his chair, as if completely unable to hear or see anything, just sitting there, overwhelmed by immense grief that left him momentarily unable to move.

Huang Zixa said softly: “Lü Zhiyuan, all of Chang’an was saying that you despised your daughter, drove her from home, and were greedy and shameless… but I know all of this was just to protect your daughter Dicui. Actually, from the moment she was humiliated by Sun Laizi, you had already decided to take revenge. Wei Ximin was a eunuch in the Princess’s residence, and the Princess’s household was determined to protect him. You knew you couldn’t take the official route, so the only way was to take matters into your own hands and kill them yourself!”

Her gaze fell on Zhang Xingying, who stared with disbelief, his face pale and desolate. She paused for a long while before continuing: “But you knew that if this was exposed, not only would you die, but your daughter would certainly be implicated, and if not executed, she would be exiled. So from the moment you decided to kill, you drove Dicui away. You threw her a rope, forcing her to attempt suicide, actually intending to publicly sever ties with her, letting her flee far away to avoid implication. But I think you must have secretly followed her, otherwise, how could you have found Zhang Xingying’s home so precisely, to be discovered by Dicui?”

Lü Zhiyuan clenched his teeth, muttering indistinctly: “I… I secretly went to the Zhang household to see her several times, and although I was careful, Dicui discovered me once… So I said I was there to demand a dowry, thinking the Zhang family couldn’t gather so much money, hoping Dicui would still leave the capital as that would be safest. Who knew she would be so foolish, truly believing I was a brutal father, and even stole that painting from the Zhang family to give to me, saying it was worth ten thousand coins. I said it wasn’t worth that much, but she told me it depicted three ways of dying. When I saw the first one looked like someone being struck dead by lightning from heaven, I immediately thought of Wei Ximin whom I had just killed. So when killing Sun Laizi, hearing he wouldn’t leave his house, I was inspired by the second painting – an iron cage would always have gaps, and the skills I learned years ago in the crossbow unit could be put to use. As for the third picture…”

At this point, his voice grew hoarse, and he could speak no more.

“What happened to Dicui… we all sympathize with her. However, the Princess was after all unintentional in her actions, and Qian Guansuo and his family were even more innocent. You shouldn’t have involved them,” Huang Zixa sighed softly, “And what I admire most is how well you disguised yourself, not only fooling us but even your daughter.”

“Perhaps… it’s because I truly wasn’t good to Dicui.” His voice was hoarse, his gaze falling on an empty spot in the air, looking at it as if seeing his daughter standing before him, like a dying person unwilling to part with the only thing left beside them, preciously measuring his daughter’s illusory face inch by inch with his gaze. Huang Zixa heard his murmuring voice, like sleep-talking: “When she was just born, I already disliked this daughter… She was premature, and after Spring Lady gave birth to her, she died from hemorrhaging. I could only numbly hold the newborn, sitting by the bed watching Spring Lady’s face slowly turn white, then slowly turn blue…”

At that time, he looked down at the loudly crying child in his arms – because of this wrinkled baby, his wife was gone. At that moment, he only wanted to throw this child to the ground in exchange for Spring Lady’s life.

But she was so small, a premature baby lying in his arms like a little kitten, crying loudly, her red little face wrinkled like a frog, so ugly, so fragile, that he could only hold her tight, burying his face in her swaddling clothes, sobbing.

He had been poor since childhood, then served as a soldier for ten years. It wasn’t until he was over thirty that he met Spring Lady, the only woman willing to marry him. They had a good marriage, but Spring Lady couldn’t conceive. They prayed everywhere for a child and finally had this one, who knew that as soon as she arrived, she would take away the person he thought would accompany him into old age.

What was more hateful was that she was a girl.

A boy could be thrown in the grass and still grow up, and when a bit older, could accompany him fishing in the streams and hunting birds in the mountains. Someone would drink wine with him, work together with him, their blood ties boiling together – that was a son, one day growing even more flourishing and sturdy than oneself.

But he only had a daughter, soft as a rosebud, easily broken by the spring wind. He could only ask his neighbor, Mrs. Wu, to help bathe her, wash her urine-soaked pants in shame, clumsily braid her ugly pigtails… She grew day by day, from an ugly premature baby like a skinned frog into such a pretty and refined young woman. This made him increasingly worried, not knowing who would eventually transplant this rosebud, planting it in someone else’s flowerpot, after which, whether she bloomed or withered, he would no longer be able to protect her.

Who would want to give birth to a daughter? What was left for him was destined to be only lonely old age. His temper grew worse and worse, becoming increasingly prone to scolding his well-behaved daughter, and increasingly envious of families with sons.

Seventeen years, a single father raising a child, nurturing her from a four-pound bundle of flesh into a beautiful, considerate, and capable young woman – the hardships of these years were unimaginable to outsiders. He had stayed up countless nights watching over Dicui when she had fevers; he had waited at street corners to catch and severely scold her when she went out to play with others; he had also talked to Spring Lady while cutting the wild grass on her grave, saying, “Our daughter looks just like you…”

He had once found another woman, trying hard to have a son, but that woman abused Dicui behind his back, which he couldn’t tolerate, and finally drove her away in a drunken rage. By then, he was already over fifty and finally gave up that hope. He thought perhaps this was just how his life would be. Alone, and when he died, Dicui would bury him beside Spring Lady, living out his life in such a pathetic way.

Time flew so quickly; in the blink of an eye, the daughter who had once called him “Papa” in baby talk had become a young woman who wore white orchids in her hair, graceful and delicate, so fresh and lovely that young men would make excuses to visit his shop just to catch a glimpse of her.

At that time he was both worried and delighted, dismissively turning away one matchmaker after another, feeling that no man in the world was worthy of his daughter.

But what he never imagined was that his daughter, who always smiled and laughed, would encounter such an unbearable fate just from delivering incense to the Princess’s residence.

Sun Laizi spread the word of that shameful incident everywhere, and all of Chang’an delighted in discussing his daughter’s misfortune. Dicui secretly hid a wax stick intending to fight Sun Laizi to the death, but he, who had been watching her closely, discovered it, seized the wax stick, and slapped her.

That was the only time he had hit her since she had grown into a young woman.

No one knew that he had already made up his mind at that moment.

He would protect his daughter; he would repay blood with blood, washing away the shame Dicui carried; he would drive away her nightmares, letting her live again.

“Why should the Emperor’s daughter be able to toy with my daughter’s fate just because she’s in a bad mood, throwing my daughter into hell?” Tears rolled down Lü Zhiyuan’s wrinkled cheeks, falling onto the blue brick floor. He seemed to be talking to himself, speaking very, very softly, “Seventeen years, I spent seventeen years raising my daughter from such a tiny baby into such a fine young woman… In my entire life, I have only this one child. I’m just a lowly craftsman, I couldn’t give her a noble family background, couldn’t give her great power, couldn’t give her abundant wealth… but I, even at the cost of my own life, must ensure my daughter lives on well!”

Huang Zixa felt a surge of warm blood in her chest, making her eyes ache and burn. She fought back tears, but couldn’t help seeing her own father’s figure before her eyes.

In Yizhou, when her father had scolded her, she had stubbornly refused to eat. As her mother brought over soup and bread to persuade her, she turned her head and happened to see her father hiding behind a tree in the courtyard, secretly watching over her.

When she caught sight of him, her father immediately turned away, pretending he was just passing by, strolling deeper into the courtyard.

She still remembered how the sunlight cast tree branch shadows on her father’s body, those clear shadow patterns she hadn’t cared about then, but now thinking back, remained so vivid, as if those patterns weren’t cast on her father’s clothes but were drawn in blood on her heart.

She didn’t know how long she had been lost in thought until Li Shubai gently touched her, bringing her back to reality.

Lü Zhiyuan still knelt in the hall, now in shackles put on by the guards.

Cui Chunzhan sat in the hall, struck his gavel, paused, then asked: “Kneeling prisoner, you killed Princess Tongchang, the Princess’s residence eunuch Wei Ximin, and Sun Laizi of Daning Ward in the capital. The evidence is conclusive, with both witness testimony and physical evidence. Do you submit to the law?”

“Yes.” His voice was decisive and clear.

Cui Chunzhan glanced at the back of the hall, seeing that although the Emperor’s chest heaved violently, he remained motionless in his chair, then turned back to ask Lü Zhiyuan: “Do you have anything else to say?”

Lü Zhiyuan was silent for a moment.

Zhang Xingying, standing diagonally behind him, opened his eyes wide, expecting him to turn around and say something about his daughter, to say he was entrusting Dicui to him.

But no, Lü Zhiyuan finally just silently shook his head.

Cui Chunzhan looked again at the Emperor, whose face was still pale, but his breathing had finally steadied. His lips moved slightly, speaking four words to Cui Chunzhan: “Death by lingchi.”

Cui Chunzhan froze for a moment, but before he could speak, there was a “thud” as Lü Zhiyuan, his face turning purple-blue, collapsed in the court.

In the midst of shocked chaos, Zhou Ziqin was the first to run over, quickly checking his breathing, then forcing open his mouth to look, freezing in place.

Huang Zixa quickly asked: “What happened?”

“He must have been hiding a poisoned wax pill in his mouth, and bit into it at some point. Now he’s… died from the poison, beyond saving.”

Huang Zixa crouched down numbly, looking at his blackened purple face, silent.

Zhou Ziqin glanced at her and said softly: “Perhaps it’s for the best.”

She sighed, and stood up to report to the Emperor, who gripped his armrest tightly, veins bulging, roaring in fury: “Dead? Just died like that, how can this satisfy my hatred!”

Consort Guo cried: “Your Majesty, doesn’t he still have a daughter? Such a criminal… must not be allowed peace even in death!”

The Emperor asked harshly: “Where is his daughter? Since he escaped, I will have his daughter suffer the thousand cuts in his place!”

Zhou Ziqin jumped up in fright, but Huang Zixa, quick to react, grabbed him, signaling him not to move.

“Your Majesty…” Cui Chunzhan said fearfully, “The one who fainted and was just carried out on Your Majesty’s orders… was his daughter Lü Dicui.”

The Emperor suddenly remembered this previous event, immediately flying into a great rage, but since it had been his order, he could only fume with nowhere to vent his anger. He violently flung his sleeve, shouting: “Search immediately! Turn the entire capital upside down to catch her!”