After changing back into her clothes at Zhou Ziqin’s house, Huang Zixia bid him farewell, picked up Zhou Ziqin’s skull, and prepared to return to Prince Kui’s manor.
As Zhou Ziqin saw her out, he couldn’t help but ask, “Are you going to report Dicui and Brother Zhang’s matter to the Court of Judicial Review?”
Huang Zixia shook her head and said, “No.”
Zhou Ziqin breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Yes, Dicui… is quite pitiful.”
“If we excuse murder out of pity, what use are the empire’s laws?” Huang Zixia said slowly, gazing at the westering sun before continuing, “But while they are suspects, there isn’t concrete evidence yet, so it’s not appropriate to bring them in for questioning right now.”
Zhou Ziqin sighed, looking at her with a dejected pout.
She ignored his expression and said, “This is a murder case—don’t let emotions cloud your judgment. I’ll have the Court’s people watch Lü Zhiyuan, Dicui, and Brother Zhang closely. Don’t you dare warn them!”
“Yes…” Zhou Ziqin watched pitifully as she carried the bag containing the skull and reconstructed head out of sight, feeling even more dejected.
When she arrived back at Prince Kui’s manor carrying the bag, the doorkeeper immediately ran down upon seeing Huang Zixia step out of the carriage, eagerly trying to take her bag: “Eunuch Yang, you’re finally back! The Prince has been waiting for you for ages!”
“No need, thank you, I’ll carry it myself.” Huang Zixia quickly protected her bag—, if people discovered what was inside, wouldn’t she be called crazy at the Prince’s manor forever? “The Prince is waiting for me?”
“Yes, he originally said to have you go to the Jingyu Hall when you returned, but after waiting and waiting without you showing up, the Prince came to sit at the gatehouse himself to wait for you.”
Huang Zixia was startled, not knowing what major issue could make Li Shubai personally wait for her at the gatehouse. She hurriedly rushed in with the head and saw indeed all the doorkeepers standing nervously while Prince Kui sat alone inside reading documents, with only a few sheets remaining from what had been a thick stack.
She quickly stepped forward and bowed: “This servant deserves death for my offense.”
He didn’t look at her, leisurely turning a page as he asked, “What offense?”
“This servant… forgot about what Your Highness… instructed last night.”
“What instructions?” He turned another page unhurriedly.
Huang Zixia had to force herself to say: “The Noble One’s appointment.”
“If you hadn’t mentioned it, I would have forgotten too.” He finished reading the last page of documents, closed them, and tossed them on the table, finally raising his eyes to look at her. His gaze was as cold as his expression, revealing nothing, yet it made Huang Zixia’s scalp tingle and her chest fill with foreboding.
Behind them, Jing Yu helped Li Shubai gather the documents, which he took and walked past Huang Zixia toward the door without so much as a glance at her.
Huang Zixia steeled herself and followed behind him, seeing him get into the carriage that was already waiting there. Only then did she sense something unusual and ask, “Your Highness is… going to the Supreme Palace?”
“What would I do at the Supreme Palace?” He glanced at her coldly, “I’m overwhelmed with affairs everywhere every day, where would I find time to manage you?”
“Yes…” Feeling guilty and at fault, she quickly lowered her head and bowed to show her remorse.
“Get in,” he said coldly.
Huang Zixia made a sound of surprise.
“The Six Ministries’ offices are before the Supreme Palace. I can take you part of the way.”
“Oh… thank you, Your Highness.” She responded miserably, without any genuine gratitude. It was obvious that being caught by Li Shubai meant she was in for a difficult journey.
The atmosphere in the carriage was indeed oppressive.
Even the little fish in the crystal bowl knew better than to move, staying buried deep in the water to avoid disturbing the Great Tang’s most fearsome Prince Kui.
As they traveled, the afternoon sunlight filtered through gaps in the carriage windows. Occasional rays fell on Li Shubai’s face, the golden light making his features appear even more sculpted and profound, with an unreachable air of detachment.
While Huang Zixia was still stealing glances at his expression, she heard him suddenly ask, “Did you see Yu Xuan at the Princess’s manor?”
Though she knew this interrogation in the carriage was inevitable, she never expected his first question to be this. She was stunned for a moment before hesitantly responding, “Yes, when I was at the Princess’s manor this morning, I saw him come to visit.”
Li Shubai slightly narrowed his eyes as he watched her, noting that while there was a faint melancholy in her expression, it wasn’t particularly obvious.
Looking at her expression, his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly. He gazed at her for a long while, his voice becoming somber as he lowered it: “What are your thoughts?”
Huang Zixia suddenly understood—he was asking about Princess Tongchang and Yu Xuan’s intimacy.
In that instant, all her composure seemed to crumble under the heat in her forehead, and she spoke without even understanding her own words: “This is Your Highness’s niece’s matter, this servant dares not concern herself with it.”
Li Shubai glanced at her lightly, but suddenly smiled, though his eyes remained cold. The only thing resembling a smile was the upward curve of his lips, forming an ambiguous arc: “You’re flustered.”
Huang Zixia opened her mouth, wanting to retort, but being under his authority and dependent on his salary—though pitifully small—and having worked so hard to get close to him, how could she throw it all away?
So she could only lower her eyes, turn her face aside, and say softly, “Thank you for Your Highness’s reminder, this servant understands… He and I are in the past, and likely can never be together again in this life.”
“What if the truth about your parents’ case comes to light and he realizes he misunderstood you?” he countered.
Huang Zixia stared blankly for a while, then said, “When that day truly comes, we can discuss it then.”
Li Shubai said nothing, only reaching for the crystal bowl and lightly tapping its wall with his finger. At the clear ring, the redfish inside startled and began darting about in the water.
He watched coldly, then made seven more taps in the air, and the little red fish completely calmed down. Li Shubai placed the bowl on the small table and tapped it again, causing the fish to startle and swim about anxiously once more.
Huang Zixia watched him with puzzlement, not understanding why he was toying with the fish this way.
Li Shubai didn’t look at her, only saying indifferently: “Long ago, someone told me that a fish’s memory only lasted seven finger-taps. Whether you treat it well or poorly, after seven taps, it will forget everything you’ve done to it.”
Huang Zixia silently shifted her gaze from the fish to his face, but saw his expression was still as cold as ever, without even a change in expression, consistently icy.
His gaze fell on her, watching her quietly, his voice cool and slow: “So even if I were to love a fish, what meaning would it have? No matter how much of my heart I invest, just seven taps and it would forget me. When it swims back to its world with a flick of its tail, it won’t even look back.”
Huang Zixia looked at him in confusion, half-understanding, but he had already turned his gaze away and asked, “You’ve been busy all day today, what have you discovered?”
Huang Zixia was confused by his jumping thoughts, not understanding why he would suddenly switch from one topic to another, as if deliberately preventing her from pondering the meaning of his words.
So after a moment’s pause, she related everything she had learned at the Princess’s manor, Lü’s candle shop, and Zhang Xingying’s home, only omitting her meeting with Yu Xuan.
By the time she finished speaking, the carriage had already arrived at the Supreme Palace.
Li Shubai alighted with her and, seeing her pick up the bag, asked, “What’s that?”
She opened the bag slightly to show him the skull inside.
Having a natural aversion to uncleanliness, he didn’t reach for it, only glancing at it and asking, “Have you caught Zhou Ziqin’s habit of carrying such things around?”
She carefully tucked the skull back into the bag and said, “It’s for Empress Wang. I hope she might show me some leniency in light of this gift.”
Li Shubai finally frowned and asked, “Cheng Xuese?”
Huang Zixia nodded.
Li Shubai’s frown deepened: “How did it come to be in your possession?”
“It’s complicated… anyway, I thought it would be better to bring it in and give it to Empress Wang.” That was all she could answer.
Li Shubai showed no interest in asking further, only saying, “If you want to live, don’t take it in.”
Huang Zixia looked at him in surprise, blinking.
“I understand the Empress’s temperament better than you. I don’t think she’ll thank you for this. On the contrary, if it touches some wounds in her heart, I suspect you might face consequences beyond what you can bear.” As he spoke, he stepped down from the carriage, “If you don’t believe me, you can try and see.”
Huang Zixia looked at the bag, smiled bitterly, and secured it before tucking it into the cabinet under the seat where she had once hidden herself.
Li Shubai walked with her toward the Supreme Palace, both signaling the guards to follow at a distance as they walked slowly, speaking in low voices.
After hearing her account, Li Shubai asked, “So you’re saying the current suspects should be the Lü father and daughter and Zhang Xingying, these three?”
“It’s not clear yet, but obviously, these three have emerged as suspects. However, looking at the method of the crime, Lü Zhiyuan had an alibi at the time, and while Zhang Xingying and Dicui’s mutual testimony has issues, there seems to be a lack of concrete evidence to prove they killed Wei Ximin.”
“Wei Ximin was disrespectful to ghosts and gods, correct?”
“Yes, people at the Princess’s manor mentioned that firstly, he was always disrespectful to ghosts and gods; secondly, he had chronic headaches and hated crowded and noisy places; and thirdly, he had already disappeared the night before his death. I think his disappearance the night before might be a crucial lead in this case. So, the next step should be to investigate his whereabouts that night.”
“Mm.” Li Shubai nodded, affirming her thinking.
He escorted her to the inner palace gate. The sky had grown late, and brilliant sunset clouds floated above the Supreme Palace and Chang’an City, illuminating both their faces brightly and casting scattered, luminous shadows behind them that merged, appearing quite ethereal.
In this chaotic, dreamlike glow, Li Shubai gestured toward the Lizheng Hall ahead and said, “Go on in.”
She nodded, took a few steps, then turned back to look at him: “Isn’t Your Highness going to the ministry?”
The sunlight fell from behind him as he stood still amidst the brocade-like clouds of sunset, looking at her with clear eyes: “The sunset is brilliant, the evening clouds beautiful. I want to stay here and watch a while longer.”
She bowed to him and turned to walk away, but couldn’t help looking back at him once more.
He still stood there, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed at the sunset, like a majestic jade mountain, always standing behind her, just a turn away from view.