Having left early in the morning and traversed half the capital, Huang Zixia and Zhou Ziqin were both famished. The regular meal time had passed, so today’s standard meal was gone. Cui Chunzhan had the Court’s kitchen quickly prepare some simple food to satisfy their hunger.

After leaving the Court of Judicial Review, Huang Zixia casually inquired with the door guard about the ever-busy Duke Wei, and sure enough, someone said: “Half an hour ago, an official carriage from the Censorate came by, and while the driver was having tea here, he mentioned the Duke was over there.”

Within the imperial city, there were numerous government offices, each with a sign stating which ranks must dismount before this point. Zhou Ziqin and Huang Zixia simply decided not to ride, tying their horses at the Court of Judicial Review before walking to the Censorate.

As they walked, Zhou Ziqin tugged at her sleeve, saying wearily: “Chonggu… I admire you.”

Huang Zixia used the booklet in her hand to shield against the intense sun overhead, turning back to look at him: “What?”

“I mean, I admire your energy…” Zhou Ziqin looked at her admiringly, “We’ve been running around for half a day without rest, I’m exhausted, don’t you need to rest at all?”

“After a case occurs, we must make the most of every minute, not wasting a single moment.” As Huang Zixia spoke, she suddenly remembered something and said, “Oh right, where is Sun Laizi’s body now? Do you remember the shape of his two wounds?”

At the mention of the corpse and wounds, Zhou Ziqin immediately became energized, as invigorated in this scorching summer day as if he’d eaten a large block of ice, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm: “Good, no problem! I examined the wounds and remember them clearly! Whatever you want to know, I can tell you right away!”

Huang Zixia turned back to look at him, saying: “I want to know the exact shape of the wounds, and the direction the weapon was thrust.”

“One wound was below the left shoulder blade, and one was on the right side of the waist near the navel. Both wounds showed signs of being stabbed from the left side diagonally toward the right…” Zhou Ziqin paused mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open, then looked around and lowered his voice to ask, “Does this mean… Di Cui is lying?”

“Yes.” Huang Zixia said quietly, “If Sun Laizi was standing facing her, given how she would have held the knife, the dagger would necessarily have struck downward from above. How could anyone stab from left to right? Wounds like these could only have been made if the victim was lying on his side.”

Zhou Ziqin drew in a sharp breath, his face showing both confusion and shock: “But… but why would Di Cui voluntarily confess and take all of this upon herself? Why would she do this?”

Huang Zixia looked at him silently for a long while, then gently shifted her gaze behind him.

They saw someone crouching by the high wall of the Court.

Zhang Xingying.

He had been crouching there for who knows how long, head down staring at the ground, his gaze vacant and scattered, frozen there for an unknown time without moving at all.

Zhou Ziqin stared at him for a long while before his wide eyes and open mouth slowly returned to normal, unconsciously letting out a soft “Ah.”

Under their watchful gaze, Zhang Xingying seemed to finally sense their presence. He slowly raised his head to look in their direction. After a long while, his scattered gaze finally gained some focus, as if he finally recognized them. He stood up and called out: “Brother… Yang…”

In his hoarse voice, his legs, having crouched for too long, were numb and couldn’t support his body. He swayed twice before collapsing to the ground.

Under the scorching sunlight, on the burning earth, his whole body seemed to have been baked dry, yet he felt nothing, just supporting himself against the wall to stand again, walking toward them step by step.

Huang Zixia watched him with complex emotions.

Zhou Ziqin quickly ran over to support him. Zhang Xingying was very tall – Zhou Ziqin was already considered tall, but he was still two or three inches taller – and when he leaned on him, even Zhou Ziqin staggered.

“Brother Zhang, what’s wrong?” Zhou Ziqin supported him while trying to comfort him, “Don’t worry!”

Zhang Xingying leaned against him but kept staring at Huang Zixia, his lips cracked from the sun moving as his voice came out dry and almost elderly: “You must help Di Cui… she, she couldn’t have, I know she couldn’t have killed anyone…”

Huang Zixia lowered her eyes and silently nodded once.

Seeing her so calm in response, Zhang Xingying suddenly became agitated, lunging forward to grab her shoulders, almost unable to control his strength: “How could such a frail girl kill anyone? I, I don’t know why she turned herself in, but I… I beg you to save her, please save her!”

His voice was hoarse, broken pleas forcing their way painfully from his throat, almost unintelligible.

Huang Zixia let out a long sigh, patting his arm, saying: “Don’t worry, Brother Zhang, I will reveal the truth. When that time comes, the real killer will be exposed to all under heaven, with nowhere to hide.”

Zhang Xingying stared at her with wide eyes for a long time before seeming to understand her words. He released his grip that had nearly crushed her shoulders, letting his hands fall limply as he staggered back two steps, saying softly: “Yes… I trust you… to clear Adi’s name.”

“Brother Zhang, you can return to the Capital Defense Office now, and report for duty tomorrow,” Huang Zixia looked up at him, saying softly, “Don’t disappoint Di Cui’s hopes for you.”

The Censorate had always been the dynasty’s most dignified and serious office, never given to frivolity, yet when they entered now, they found several elderly officials – the Vice Censor-in-Chief, Imperial Censor, and Investigating Censor – all sitting beside Duke Wei with joyful expressions, chatting away with Li Shubai as if completely unaware that office hours had long passed.

As soon as Huang Zixia and Zhou Ziqin entered, Li Shubai gestured for her to wait, then stood and said to everyone: “This is Yang Chonggu who serves at my side, skilled at solving cases, and one of those appointed by His Majesty to work with the Court of Judicial Review on this case. She has likely come to report on the case’s progress, so I shall take my leave of you all.”

“We’ll see the Duke out.” The officials, still beaming, stood to escort him to the door.

After leaving the Censorate, Zhou Ziqin couldn’t help saying: “The difference in how the Censorate treats people is huge! When I came before, those old men all had their noses in the air, as if I were the shame of the dynasty – they wouldn’t even spare me an extra pair of chopsticks. But when Duke Wei comes, look at them, their old faces blooming like chrysanthemums, every wrinkle smoothed out!”

Li Shubai couldn’t help but twitch his lips slightly, saying: “They’re just in a good mood today.”

“Oh? Censorate officials be in a good mood? Don’t they just scowl and lecture people every day?”

Li Shubai turned to glance at Huang Zixia, saying: “The Emperor summoned several high officials regarding the theft of the Nine Phoenix Hairpin, saying he wanted the three judicial offices – the Ministry of Justice, Court of Judicial Review, and Censorate – to jointly investigate this case. The other two departments were fine with it, but these old men at the Censorate immediately objected, saying that a joint investigation by the three offices should be reserved for major cases concerning state affairs – how could they mobilize all three offices for the mere theft of a princess’s hairpin? The Emperor replied that the case had already resulted in two deaths and one injury, and with the princess possibly in danger, it must be thoroughly investigated without delay. While they were still arguing, news came from the Court of Judicial Review that the suspect had turned herself in! Naturally, the Censorate was overjoyed that the Emperor’s family matter wouldn’t become a state affair.”

Zhou Ziqin frowned and said: “But… Di Cui isn’t the killer…”

“Whether she is or not, at least her coming forward to take the blame presents a very convenient opportunity, doesn’t it?” As Li Shubai spoke, he cast a faint glance at Huang Zixia, “The task assigned by the Emperor – do you want to continue investigating, or stop here?”

“Di Cui and I have had some interaction, and her circumstances are so tragic, I cannot let her perish like this,” Huang Zixia frowned and said, “Moreover, even with her confession, I believe this case will not find peace so easily.”

Li Shubai raised an eyebrow and asked: “You mean the killer might not stop?”

“Yes, very possibly. Because the third death shown in the painting hasn’t appeared yet.” Huang Zixia handed the scroll to him.

Li Shubai walked with them while unrolling the scroll to look.

One glance was enough to stop him in his tracks.

This Duke Wei, who was always unflappable, stood there in the imperial city, under the shadows of various government offices, staring at this scroll of messy scribbles in his hands, frozen for a moment beneath the vast sky.

The azure sky was pristine, the sunlight intense, and a long wind swept by, stirring the wide sleeves of their robes with a fluttering sound.

Li Shubai’s lowered eyelashes finally raised slowly. He rolled up the painting and handed it back to Huang Zixia, saying: “Keep it safe.”

Zhou Ziqin quickly asked: “My Lord, did you see the scenes of three people dying tragically?”

Li Shubai nodded slightly, saying: “It’s a forced interpretation, barely resembling anything. How could such an absurd thing be connected to the late Emperor’s handwriting?”

Zhou Ziqin immediately lost interest, saying: “Right.”

He stole a glance at Huang Zixia, seeing that she was becoming more and more like Li Shubai, her face as impenetrable as water-tight, and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly, saying: “My Lord, I still have doubts about Di Cui killing Sun Laizi, so I’ll go to the mortuary to take a look. I’ll take my leave.”

Watching Zhou Ziqin leave, Li Shubai gestured for Huang Zixia to get in the carriage.

As the carriage passed the Court of Judicial Review’s entrance, the guard untied the sand-colored horse’s reins, and it obediently followed along, so well-behaved it was remarkable.

Huang Zixia sat down in her usual spot – the low footstool.

Li Shubai extended his hand toward her, and she immediately understood, taking out the scroll from her robes and presenting it to him.

He opened it and spread it on the small table. The table was rather short, so part of the mounting draped over his knee. He placed his hand on the scroll, his fingertip slowly tracing down the first image that seemed to show a person being burned to death: “Last time you said you thought this showed someone being burned to death?”

“Yes… and that thin vertical line above, we thought it looked like a bolt of lightning striking from the sky. So this image appears to show someone being struck by lightning, their whole body burning as they struggle to death.”

“The Zhang family says this painting is the late Emperor’s handwriting – do you believe that?” He slightly raised his eyes to look at her.

Huang Zixia pondered, slowly saying: “I’ve never seen the late Emperor’s calligraphy, so I dare not be certain.”

“I can be certain.”

Li Shubai silently placed his hand on the painting, saying: “This ink was specially made for imperial use by the Zu family. In his later years, the late Emperor developed an aversion to the smell of ink due to his poor health, so the Zu family changed their formula. Besides pearl and jade powder, they added a new type of fragrance from foreign lands to the ink stick. They only made ten sticks – seven were used, and three were buried with him. It’s been ten years now, yet the fragrance from that time remains.”

Huang Zixia bent down to smell it – there was only the faintest trace of scent, but that strange fragrance was indeed distinctly different from other perfumes.

She looked up at Li Shubai again, and he continued: “When the late Emperor wrote or drew, he would often make practice strokes to the side first – it was a habit of many years that only those constantly by his side would know. And look here-“

Besides the vertical line they had taken for lightning, there was another line so fine it was almost invisible as a hair.

“This line isn’t parallel to the one beside it, clearly not a stray brush hair, but rather an accidental mark made while practicing the stroke.”

Huang Zixia said: “I will go to the Zhang family to inquire in detail about this painting’s origins.”

“Yes, we should ask why Father Emperor would draw such a painting, and why he would bestow it upon a civilian doctor,” Li Shubai said slowly.

Huang Zixia gazed at the painting, thinking of Prince E Li Run’s unusual reaction, and sure enough, Li Shubai also said: “And now, we should visit Prince E’s manor – since you say he reacted unusually upon seeing this painting.”