Strangers on the street avoided her as she wandered, looking lost and confused. No one understood why on such a festive day, she appeared so distraught, as pale as a ghost.

On the first day of the New Year, Chang’an’s streets were deserted. Except for the major temples and Taoist shrines, the citizens of Chang’an stayed home, not going anywhere. It wouldn’t be until the third day that families would begin visiting and feasting with one another.

Huang Zihua walked alone toward Yongchang District. In the empty alleyways, she headed toward the Wang residence when she noticed a handsome young man playing shuttlecock with two children at the entrance of an alley, proudly counting: “One hundred and twenty-one, one hundred and twenty-two…”

The children beside him were getting impatient, saying, “Hurry up! We’re all waiting to play!”

“You don’t understand, do you? In shuttlecock, no one else can play until the current player stops…”

Huang Zihua couldn’t help but laugh and called out to him: “Jing Heng, aren’t you too old to be stealing children’s shuttlecocks?”

“Ah, Miss Huang, you’re finally back,” Jing Heng stopped and returned the shuttlecock to the children, then walked toward her. “The Wang residence is so eerie with no one who can speak.”

“It’s not like they chose to be deaf and mute. They have no choice in the matter,” Huang Zihua said as she watched him walk to the locust tree nearby and untie two horses. One was chestnut-colored, and the other was Fu Sha. As soon as its reins were untied, it happily ran to her, nuzzling her raised hand with its wet nose.

Huang Zihua stroked Fu Sha’s neck and asked, “The Prince is looking for me? Where are we going?”

“The Huan River in the south of the city.”

The Huan River and Yu River both lay south of Chang’an, converging at Xiangji Temple.

The winter Huan River flowed gently and shallowly, with bare willow branches swaying over the thin ice along its banks, all their leaves long fallen. Under the sparse, long branches, Huang Zihua saw a figure standing in white clothes, tall and elegant like a jade tree in the wind – it was Li Shubai.

She galloped up to him, jumped down from her horse, looked up at him, and asked, “Your Highness, did you need something from me?”

Li Shubai took two steps toward her, then stopped, frowning for a long while without speaking.

Seeing his expression, Huang Zihua suddenly understood the reason for his hesitation. She glanced toward Xiangji Temple behind them and asked softly, “Did you find Prince E?”

Li Shubai nodded once.

“Let’s go,” Huang Zihua took the reins without hesitation and mounted her horse again.

Li Shubai’s horse Di’e naturally wouldn’t stay behind Fu Sha, overtaking it in a few strides and proudly snorting as it glanced sideways at Fu Sha.

Huang Zihua patted Di’e’s head and looked up at Li Shubai: “Your Highness works quickly. We just discussed this last night, and today you’ve already found Prince E’s whereabouts.”

“I do have quite a few people working for me,” Li Shubai raised his head to look at Xiangji Temple and said in a deep voice, “Besides, though Chang’an is large, there are only so many places he could go.”

Huang Zihua looked at him thoughtfully, a flash of doubt crossing her mind, but she didn’t speak.

He noticed her hesitation and said, “I… didn’t want to see him alone.”

She turned to look at him, clearly seeing the uncertainty on his face. She understood that before everything came to light, he and Prince E Li Run truly didn’t know how to face each other alone.

“I don’t know what I should do or say when I meet my seventh brother…” Li Shubai sighed softly, gazing at the distant mountains. Huang Zihua saw his profile, as clear and beautiful as distant mountains and nearby waters, but his handsome features were covered with a barely perceptible hesitation, like mist and drizzle shrouding the landscape. “I’m truly afraid – afraid to hear the truth, afraid that he hates me, afraid that he’s being controlled by someone, afraid of the truth behind the mastermind…”

“Didn’t you once tell me?” Huang Zihua slowed Fu Sha, gazing at him intently, “What comes will come, there’s nowhere to hide. Better to face whatever’s coming, at least—”

She reached down from her horse and gently covered his hand, her voice clear and steady: “I’ll always be by your side.”

The words he had said to her countless times, now coming from her lips, made him instinctively turn his palm over and grip her hand tightly.

They rode together toward Xiangji Temple, passing streams of worshippers along the way. They dismounted at the temple gate and followed the crowd up the mountain steps.

Xiangji Temple was a famous monastery in Chang’an, with towering pagodas and majestic halls. On this first day of the New Year, it was packed with worshippers, incense smoke wreathing through the various halls, and voices rising in a bustling atmosphere.

Li Shubai led Huang Zihua through the crowded halls to the back mountain of Xiangji Temple. The small path was deserted, littered with fallen leaves and dead branches. At the end of the path, a person holding a broom was slowly sweeping the branches and leaves from the path.

Li Shubai stopped under a pine tree, watching the man in plain clothes who was single-mindedly sweeping.

Huang Zihua followed his gaze to look at the person. This man sweeping with his head down, wearing rough monk’s robes but not yet tonsured, appeared to be about twenty years old, with pure white skin and very delicate features. In the center of his forehead was a perfectly centered cinnabar mole, which against his snow-white skin and jet-black hair, gave him an extraordinarily ethereal, otherworldly air.

Usually accustomed to seeing him in silk and brocade, in purple royal garments, now in plain unadorned cloth, his transcendent quality seemed even more pronounced.

He swept the mountain stone steps one by one, carefully and almost reverently.

They didn’t announce themselves, just quietly stood on the other side of the path, watching him.

The leaves had all fallen, and the winter wind brought down a few withered thin branches onto the area he had already swept. He looked back, then turned with his broom to go back.

After a few steps, he finally sensed something and slowly turned his head toward where Li Shubai and Huang Zihua stood.

His gaze fixed on Li Shubai, and from extreme shock and fear, the muscles in his face began to twitch slightly. He stood there frozen, the broom in his hand falling with a soft “pat” onto the stone steps.

The distant temple bells rang out, echoing faintly through the secluded mountains and valleys, the reverberations from the steep mountains rippling through their ears, lingering endlessly.

Li Shubai walked toward him, his steps somewhat heavy but unwavering. As he approached Li Run, Li Run finally came to his senses and instinctively turned to flee.

But Li Shubai had already reached his side and softly recited: “Ancient trees on a lonely path, deep in the mountains bell tolls ring. Spring waters choke on dangerous rocks, sunlight cold on blue-green pines…”

Li Run’s body involuntarily went limp, weakly leaning against the pine tree behind him, closing his eyes.

Li Shubai looked directly at him and said slowly: “Seventh Brother’s favorite Wang Wei poetry verses. Now you’ve achieved your wish, living in Wang Wei’s poetic realm. Should Fourth Brother congratulate you?”

Li Run leaned against the pine tree, biting his lower lip hard, desperately trying to control his emotions, but no matter how hard he tried, the twitching muscles in his face and his increasingly wide eyes betrayed the fear and hatred in his heart.

Li Shubai looked at this utterly unfamiliar brother before him, feeling a dull pain in his chest that choked his throat, leaving him momentarily unable to speak.

Huang Zihua walked up behind him and bowed to Li Run: “Greetings, Prince E.”

Li Shubai finally collected himself and asked: “Why has Seventh Brother chosen to live in seclusion here? That day when you disappeared from Xiangluan Tower, it shocked the entire court and also caused Fourth Brother to face much suspicion. Only yesterday did Fourth Brother hear that a lay Buddhist had taken up residence in the secluded back mountain of Xiangji Temple after the winter solstice, with several skilled warriors protecting him—I thought it might be you, Seventh Brother, so I came to visit.”

Huang Zihua looked around but saw no sign of the warriors protecting Li Run, presumably already dealt with by Li Shubai’s men.

Li Run clenched his jaw, standing before them, still refusing to speak, only staring at Li Shubai with eyes full of grief and hatred.

Seeing him like this, Li Shubai sighed and said: “Seventh Brother, today Fourth Brother only wants to ask you one thing: in all these years, have I ever done anything to wrong you?”

Li Run’s gaze was like sharp blades and ice, filled with endless venom. This gaze reminded Huang Zihua of Wang Zongshi, the snake-like cold stare the same.

“Who is… your Seventh Brother?”

Li Run finally spoke, his voice harsh and desolate, forcing out each word through his throat with intense hatred.

Li Shubai stood motionless before him, looking directly at him, but not speaking.

Li Run breathed heavily, trying to suppress the fury in his chest, but his breathing trembled, the thin mist from his nose and mouth obscuring his features, making it impossible to tell whether he was more afraid or more resentful.

He said indistinctly: “Li Run only wanted to find a quiet place to study Buddhist scriptures… but never thought… never thought that just wanting to stay and glimpse the Buddha’s relics would cost him his chance to escape…”

Hearing his broken, incoherent speech, Li Shubai interrupted: “Seventh Brother, come with me. Whatever grievances you hold against Fourth Brother, whatever you fear, please return with me to clear Fourth Brother’s name. Or tell me exactly what wrong I have done to make you resent me so.”

“Go back with you?” Li Run’s face showed a bitter smile as he slowly stepped back, asking softly, “Can I even go back?”

Huang Zihua stood quietly behind him, preventing him from turning to flee and alarming others.

But Li Run didn’t look back and showed no signs of wanting to escape. He just stared at Li Shubai, slowly stepping backward, his voice dry and difficult, hoarse as if it wasn’t his own: “Four… no, Li Shubai, your various schemes may fool everyone else at court, but you finally showed your true colors, you can’t fool me!”

Seeing him so obstinate yet refusing to explain why, Li Shubai could only walk toward him, saying: “Seventh Brother, you need not accuse me, just explain everything first!”

“Don’t come any closer!” Li Run’s right hand flipped over, revealing a thin dagger gleaming faintly, now pressed against his own heart.

Behind him, Huang Zihua saw Li Shubai’s face turn ashen in an instant. He stopped, not daring to approach further, only his eyes revealing boundless terror. He gritted his teeth to control the surging fear in his chest and said one word at a time: “Seventh Brother, put it down!”

But Li Run kept one hand holding the dagger to his heart while raising the other to point at Li Shubai, hysterically shouting: “Li Shubai, in this life and the next, you will face retribution!”

Before his words finished, the dagger in his hand had already plunged fiercely into his own heart.

Li Shubai rushed forward and grabbed his hand, but the dagger was extremely sharp, and Li Run’s strike against himself was so vicious that the blade had already sunk deep into his chest.

Li Shubai held Li Run’s falling body like a madman, roaring frantically: “Why? Why? What could be worth dying for?”

Huang Zihua heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the mountain path. Though she was in extreme shock, she rushed to Li Shubai’s side and urgently said: “Your Highness, quick, leave! Someone’s coming!”

Li Shubai was finally startled to awareness – people had already surrounded them, and they were well-trained guards. Though he was usually extremely alert, his mind was so agitated that he hadn’t noticed being surrounded at all. He gritted his teeth, holding Li Run’s body as he stood up.

Huang Zihua said urgently: “Prince E stabbed his heart, he can’t survive!”

Li Shubai knew he should abandon Li Run and leave immediately, but he had always been closest to Li Run, they were the most intimate of brothers, close for many years. Now seeing him die before his eyes threw his mind into chaos.

Holding Li Run’s body, feeling it still warm, blood still flowing through his limbs and body, how could he let go and leave his seventh brother on the ground?

Huang Zihua grew desperate, pulling Li Shubai’s arm to make him put Li Run’s body down, then pulling him to flee backward. But unexpectedly, the dying Li Run gripped Li Shubai’s arm with all his remaining strength, holding on desperately, refusing to let go.

Li Shubai gripped Li Run’s wrist, seeing his eyes fixed on him, those eyes full of venomous hatred until death.

He felt his chest turn ice cold, all his blood rushing to his head in an instant, his temples throbbing, making him momentarily dizzy. Suddenly he wondered, did I do something too wrong Seventh Brother? Did I commit some unforgivable crime that even I don’t know about?

In just this moment of confusion, he lost his last chance to escape.

A purple figure rushed over, bringing a fierce cold wind as it landed before them – it was Wang Zongshi. Over a hundred elite Divine Strategy Army soldiers had arrived, surrounding them.

The dying Li Run painfully turned his gaze to Wang Zongshi, his throat making rasping sounds, but he finally gathered his last breath and, in a voice almost inhuman, hoarsely said: “Prince Kui Li Shubai… killed me!”

With his last word spoken, his breath ceased, and the hand pointing at Li Shubai finally went limp, falling into Li Shubai’s arms. Li Shubai only looked down at his closed eyes, motionless, no longer having the strength to reach out and hold him.

Wang Zongshi’s icy gaze fell on Li Shubai and Huang Zihua. Li Shubai’s white clothes were now stained with Li Run’s fresh blood, like several crimson plum blossoms blooming in white snow.

Wang Zongshi slowly stepped forward, his voice as cold as clashing ice: “May I ask Prince Kui, why did you kill your brother, this dynasty’s Prince E?”

Standing beside Li Shubai, Huang Zihua felt fear surge through her, making her body tremble slightly, not knowing who had designed such a terrifying trap, leading them step by step until, despite all their efforts, they had fallen to this point.

Li Shubai lowered his eyes to look at Li Run’s corpse in his arms, ignoring Wang Zongshi’s question. After a long while, he finally gently laid him on the withered grass, stood up, straightened his clothes, and asked: “If I say that I didn’t kill Prince E, would you believe me?”

Wang Zongshi shook his head, raising his hand to point at the Divine Strategy Army soldiers around them, saying: “Your Highness killed Prince E, and Prince E himself identified his murderer. Over a hundred of our Divine Strategy Army soldiers witnessed this with their own eyes and heard it with their ears.”

“Then let’s go,” Li Shubai said flatly.

Huang Zihua grew anxious, hurrying toward Wang Zongshi, saying: “Chief Eunuch Wang, there’s more to this matter, please let me examine the scene carefully!”

Wang Zongshi looked at her, his lips curling almost imperceptibly: “Miss Huang, why are you here?”

“She has nothing to do with this. She broke up with me days ago and has been living in a residence in Yongchang District,” Li Shubai walked past Wang Zongshi, pausing slightly, then said softly, “As for whose residence it is, I don’t know.”

Wang Zongshi understood his meaning – if he pursued Huang Zihua, he wouldn’t escape scrutiny himself. So he said to several people behind him: “Miss Huang is a famous detective known throughout the land. It’s most appropriate to let her examine the scene. You can leave two people to help Miss Huang investigate the scene, the rest will escort Prince Kui back to the capital.”

Huang Zihua watched Li Shubai leave, seeing his figure still straight and his steps steady, which slightly eased her mind.

She walked to Li Run’s corpse, rolled up her narrow sleeves, and knelt to examine him.

The dead Li Run’s skin appeared even more translucent, his body still warm, the cinnabar mole between his brows startlingly red. Such a beautiful face, but sadly twisted with muscles, dying so tragically.

Though he wore plain clothes, the cotton came from the Western Regions, and this garment was finely woven with cotton padding inside, actually more expensive than silk clothing. Even though he had turned his heart to Buddha, hiding in the back mountain of Xiangji Temple, he was still quite different from ordinary monks.

She pulled the dagger from his heart. Li Run’s heart had stopped beating, leaving a bloody hole in his chest that only oozed a little blood. She held the dagger in her hand, and when she saw its shape, her heart sank. After wiping away the blood and seeing the ancient seal script characters for “Fish Intestine” on it, her heart shook violently.

The Fish Intestine Sword had been Li Shubai’s weapon, but later when they were attacked in Shu, Li Shubai had given it to her. She had carried it always, until that argument when she left Prince Kui’s mansion. Because she left in such a hurry, she had left everything there, and later only had someone retrieve some of her things, naturally leaving this short sword still at the Prince’s mansion.

And now, somehow Li Run had obtained it and used this Fish Intestine Sword to kill himself.

Many at court naturally knew the Fish Intestine Sword belonged to Li Shubai, and now this physical evidence confirmed the crime of killing Prince E.

Sure enough, as soon as they saw the short sword in her hand, the two soldiers left behind immediately recognized it: “The Fish Intestine Sword! Isn’t this Prince Kui’s sword?”

The other nodded: “Yes, it should be that sword.”

Huang Zihua handed them the Fish Intestine Sword, barely controlling the trembling in her heart, and asked: “You know about the Fish Intestine Sword?”

“Who doesn’t know about it? When Prince Kui returned to court after pacifying the Xuzhou rebellion, the current Emperor personally bestowed it upon him. Those Divine Might and Divine Martial fellows were always bragging about it then, acting as if having an imperial weapon meant they could lord it over us.”

The other soldier carefully took the Fish Intestine Sword, fondling it admiringly, saying: “It’s sharp.”

“It seems the capital’s rumors are true, Prince Kui has… been possessed by Pang Jun. Prince E exposed his plot, so he silenced him.”

Huang Zihua was searching Li Run’s pockets when she heard this and said coldly: “Nothing has been determined yet, don’t spread unconfirmed rumors.”

The man quickly fell silent and carefully put away the Fish Intestine Sword.

Li Run had come to sweep the mountain path and had nothing on him. Huang Zihua stood up and walked toward the small house where he had been living. The broom still lay on the path; she picked it up and examined it, saw it was an ordinary broom, and left it by the door as she entered the house.

The furnishings inside were simple to the point of being sparse – one table, one cabinet, one bed, and a shelf with a few books. The low bed had neat bedding, and there were several pieces of clothing in the cabinet. The bedding and clothes were new but in muted colors, matching the ancient Buddha statue and oil lamp.

Huang Zihua searched the house thoroughly but found nothing. She could only stand inside, looking at the dim light coming through the narrow window, pondering Li Run’s life here.

A prince who had been born to silk and jade, who had publicly accused his formerly close brother of treason, then faked his death and fled to live in seclusion behind a Buddhist temple, dedicating his life to ancient scrolls by lamplight.

Even if his heart truly turned to Buddha, wanting to escape the mundane world, why then did he ask them to investigate his mother’s past? And between him and Prince Kui, what had happened that was worth using his own life to falsely accuse his fourth brother?

Huang Zihua stood in this dark room, listening to the waves of pine sighs outside like roaring seas. Thinking of Prince E’s resolute death, the blood on Li Shubai’s clothes, and the character for “death” on the charm, she stood frozen in the deep fog of confusion for a long while, unable to move.

The two soldiers urged her from outside, and Huang Zihua had to walk out of the house. The howling wind surged through the forest, the roar of pine winds drowning her ears, making her tremble almost uncontrollably as she involuntarily raised her hands to cover her ears.

The mighty wind rolled over the mortal world, grinding everything to dust before its tremendous force, unstoppable by anyone.

The first day of the first month, the beginning of a new year.

When Huang Zihua returned to Chang’an, it was already dark. The citizens of Chang’an were celebrating. Firecrackers sounded everywhere, and lanterns and decorations brightened every corner.

Mischievous children chased each other with lanterns, girls wore colorful flowers in their hair, and everyone on the street smiled and bowed to each other with New Year’s greetings.

Strangers on the street avoided her as she wandered, looking lost and confused. No one understood why on such a festive day, she appeared so distraught, as pale as a ghost.

Huang Zihua arrived at Yongchang District and stood at the entrance for a long while before finally entering the Wang residence.

Wang Zongshi was already waiting inside. Seeing her walk in step by step, he calmly sipped his tea and said: “I told you before I would help investigate this matter. Why were you so anxious to go risk danger yourself?”

Huang Zihua lowered her head and said softly: “Please forgive my impatience, Chief Eunuch, and thank you for saving me today. What will happen to Prince Kui now?”

Wang Zongshi placed his teacup on the table and said: “We have reported Prince Kui’s matter to the Emperor. The case is now being handled by the Court of the Imperial Clan, and for now, Prince Kui will stay there rather than return to his mansion.”

Being detained at the Court of the Imperial Clan was essentially imprisonment.

Huang Zihua asked again: “Then, Chief Eunuch, your appearance on the back mountain of Xiangji Temple was so timely today. Why did you happen to be there?”

“It was quite a coincidence. Originally the entire Divine Strategy Army was to rest today, but at noon we suddenly received the Emperor’s command. A court official who went to Xiangji Temple for first incense at dawn had heard someone who seemed to be Prince E. He had quickly sent his people to protect him, but considering the circumstances of his disappearance, he also ordered the Divine Strategy Army to depart immediately to escort him to the palace, ensuring – that no one would harm him.”

At this point, Wang Zongshi’s face showed an icy smile as he said: “The Emperor is wise, but unfortunately I still failed my mission, unable to save Prince E from Prince Kui’s hands.”

Huang Zihua silently bowed to him and said: “Thank you, Chief Eunuch, for sheltering me these many days. Prince Kui is my benefactor, and now that he is in trouble, I think perhaps I should return to help him.”

“He’s now detained in the Court of the Imperial Clan. How can you help him? Do you think the leaderless Prince Kui’s mansion still has anyone who can help you investigate this matter?” Wang Zongshi said as he slowly stood up, walked to her side, and stared at her with those cold eyes, falling silent.

Huang Zihua pressed her lips together silently, knowing he spoke the truth – she truly had no way to save Li Shubai now. After a long while, she finally spoke weakly: “Please guide me, Chief Eunuch, teach me how to repay my debt of gratitude.”

“I’ve said that I admire you – in my view, all those so-called young talents of your age, even Wang Yun, aren’t worth half of you,” Wang Zongshi looked down, studying her silent profile, and shook his head, “If you could become part of the Wang family, it would be our fortune.”

Huang Zihua stood motionless, silently biting her lower lip.

“Of course, you went back on your word – you agreed to consider becoming a Wang family bride, then ran off to get involved with Prince Kui. This displeased me greatly.”

Huang Zihua finally spoke: “I only agreed to consider it, I never agreed to the matter itself.”

“Heh, playing such little mind games with me ultimately won’t help,” Wang Zongshi sneered, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked to the window, gazing at the newly hung lanterns outside. His leisurely voice reached her ears, inescapable: “Now give me a definite answer – would you rather watch Prince Kui die, or be willing to serve the Wang family and let us help you assist Prince Kui?”

Huang Zihua pondered for a long while before asking: “With such powerful forces behind this, can the Wang family truly help Prince Kui?”

“That depends on you, not us,” Wang Zongshi’s gaze remained fixed outside the window, not turning to look at her, his tone almost as if talking to himself, “I can only promise to help you get involved in the case, to give you opportunities to investigate.”

Huang Zihua stood in the hall, the cold lamp casting her shadow long and thin on this lonely night.

Only this fractured shadow accompanied her now. She stood alone in the world, with no one to rely on – how could she fight against the enormous storm before her?

She was just one woman, and before the most powerful forces in this world, she could only be crushed to dust, scattered into mud.

Tears of weakness suddenly welled up in her eyes. On this cold night, she couldn’t stop her body from trembling. She knew the abyss she faced, covered only by the thinnest layer of ice – one move and she would fall in, with no chance of return.

But the person already fallen into that abyss was Li Shubai.

Even if thousands tried to stop her, even if a bloody path lay ahead, even if she knew she would be swept up by these enormous forces and ground to dust, she had to walk this path.

She bowed formally to Wang Zongshi’s back, slowly kneeling, and said softly: “Thank you, Chief Eunuch Wang.”

Wang Zongshi turned to look at her and asked: “Well?”

“I will seriously consider this matter. Please give me a few days,” she shook her head slightly, her voice choked, her eyes rimmed red from unshed tears, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall, “When Wang Yun returns, I will give him an answer.”

She had come here with Wang Yun originally just hoping to use the Wang family’s power to get involved in the case. But now, she could no longer distance herself and probably lacked the strength to resist. Even though she so desperately wished that at the end of her life, she could hold the hand she wanted to hold, faced with this storm now breaking over her head, she ultimately couldn’t withstand it alone.

She bowed to him silently. Wang Zongshi seemed about to say something but finally turned back and said: “As you wish. You may continue living here, and if you need anything, you can come to me.”

After Wang Zongshi left, Huang Zihua stood alone in the room. Everything was deathly quiet except for the pair of Agashni fish he had given her, still swimming in their crystal vase, stirring rippling waves. The slight shimmer of water reflected in her eyes, mirroring the turmoil in her heart that wouldn’t settle.

Unable to bear this eerie rippling, she walked out of the Wang residence into the cold night under brilliant, icy stars. She raised her head to look at these unreachable stars, the Milky Way silent, spread across the heavens. The world was so vast, both earth and sky, and she lived in it alone, sustained only by the burning feeling in her chest.

She clenched her fists tightly, letting her nails dig deep into her palms, causing slight pain.

She headed east without hesitation.

Passing through countless bustling, noisy crowds, she reached the tightly closed gates of Prince Kui’s mansion and knocked.

A voice came from inside: “Who… is it?”

“Uncle Liu, it’s me, Yang Chonggu,” Huang Zihua raised her voice.

“Oh! You’re back!” The voice inside immediately grew louder, and someone quickly opened the small door. Uncle Liu and a group of others were gathered around the stove in the gatehouse, talking, everyone’s faces full of anxiety and uncertainty.

Uncle Liu quickly closed the door and asked anxiously: “Miss Huang, have you heard? His Highness has been taken to the Court of the Imperial Clan!”

“I know, Prince E’s death has implicated His Highness.” The room was closed up, and the heat from the stove made her feel weak. She hadn’t eaten for a long time, and after today’s dramatic events, now with the heat affecting her, she realized she was both hungry and exhausted, barely able to stand. She took the water Uncle Liu offered and drank a few sips, then asked: “I’m looking for Jing Yi, is he here?”

In the Prince’s mansion, after that ambush in Shu, many of Li Shubai’s useful people scattered, and Jing Yu died in that great fire in Chengdu. The mansion’s steward was old and had retired outside the mansion. Now, only Jing Yi and Jing Heng remained capable.

The three of them gathered, and Huang Zihua detailed the day’s events to them.

Jing Yi said: “Now that Prince Kui has entered the Court of the Imperial Clan, we cannot mobilize the Divine Might and Divine Martial armies, meaning external support is cut off. Though the mansion has over a hundred ceremonial guards, what good are they? We’ve become isolated.”

Jing Heng nodded and added: “Those friendly to His Highness at court are not few, especially those promoted by him. They absolutely won’t stand idle, since the rise and fall of Prince Kui’s mansion affects their own lives and fortunes. If we seek their help, they will surely respond.”

Huang Zihua slowly shook her head: “However, His Highness’s alleged crimes are too shocking. Even if court officials jointly petition, how can anyone protect against charges of killing one’s brother and plotting rebellion?”

Jing Heng sighed mournfully, holding his head: “Yes, everything else could be explained, but now Prince E himself has accused our Prince, and Prince E was always close to His Highness – his words carry the most weight. Coincidentally, His Highness was beside him when he died. This is… impossible to defend against!”

Jing Yi lowered his voice and asked Huang Zihua: “Did Prince E name His Highness as his killer with his dying breath?”

Huang Zihua nodded once, remaining silent.

“What in the world… happened?” Jing Yi frowned wordlessly.

Huang Zihua shook her head without speaking. What could she say? All the rumors in the capital were now irrefutable. Only she and Li Shubai knew that Prince E Li Run had committed suicide, but who would believe them? Who would believe Prince E would use death to frame Prince Kui? Who could accept such an incredible thing?

Perhaps even Jing Yi and Jing Heng didn’t dare fully believe such a thing.

Huang Zihua changed the subject, saying: “We have no way of knowing the internal reasons for this matter. Now Prince E is dead, leaving no clues to follow. In my view, we should approach from another angle.”

Jing Heng glanced at her and asked listlessly: “Where?”

“Prince E used His Highness’s personal Fish Intestine Sword to kill himself. This short sword, His Highness once gave to me, and later I left it here in the mansion. Do you know how His Highness disposed of it?”

“This sword was bestowed by His Majesty himself, and His Highness gave it to you?” Jing Heng asked with wide eyes.

Huang Zihua said casually: “It was a rushed situation, His Highness didn’t say he was giving it to me, just letting me use it for a while. I left it in the mansion when I left a few days ago.”

“Oh… but His Highness never mentioned it afterward,” Jing Heng glanced at Jing Yi and asked, “Did you take it?”

Jing Yi looked at Huang Zihua and said: “After you left, His Highness refused to speak of you at all, until he learned where you were staying, then had someone pack your things to send over. I assigned people to pack your things, thinking you were just angry with His Highness and would surely return, so I had them only take your clothing and some money and valuables. Everything else I had them leave as it was in your room. If they had found the Fish Intestine Sword, they would certainly have told me.”

“So, it must have been taken right after I left?” Huang Zihua pressed her lips together, thinking for a long while before saying softly, “We should investigate who entered my room after I left. Of course, it could have been a guard who slipped in quietly during night patrol and took it without anyone noticing.”

“A guard?” Jing Heng raised his eyebrows, muttering to himself.

Huang Zihua nodded, hesitation in her eyes, but after taking a deep breath, she finally spoke: “Zhang Xingying.”