The return carriage moved slowly, and by the time they reached the main palace grounds, dawn was already breaking.

It was the seventeenth of the first month, the second day of the reopened court, with government affairs already back on track and the court session full of pressing matters to discuss. With recent unrest in the Lingnan region besides, Emperor Zhaoyuan had specially moved the morning audience an hour earlier.

Xuan Zhi led Cheng Chang and the other two into the palace, and seeing that the court session at the Golden Throne Hall had already begun, said, “Please wait in the side hall for now, Third Young Master, Lord Wei, Colonel Yun. Once the morning audience concludes, I’ll report your presence.”

Cheng Chang said, “There’s no need to trouble yourself, General of Guide. I have an urgent matter to petition His Majesty about — I’ll go directly to the Golden Throne Hall to seek an audience.”

Xuan Zhi hesitated, instinctively feeling he should stop Cheng Chang. But then again, setting aside his status as the Young Prince, his rank alone as a fourth-rank Attendant Censor qualified him to participate in the court session.

Xuan Zhi nodded and glanced at the palace attendant outside the hall. Understanding the gesture, the attendant went inside to announce him, and soon emerged, saying, “Third Young Master, His Majesty requests your presence.”

Within the Golden Throne Hall, civil and military officials stood arrayed on both sides. Privy Council Commissioner Yao Hangshan had just finished reporting on the unrest in Lingnan and, seeing Cheng Chang enter, retreated to the right side of the hall.

Cheng Chang lifted the hem of his robe and knelt, requesting punishment. “Last night, in defiance of Your Majesty’s prohibition, this subject trespassed into Mingyin Temple. I beg Your Majesty’s judgment.”

Emperor Zhaoyuan naturally knew why Cheng Chang had broken into Mingyin Temple. To mete out punishment, he would need to inquire into the reason, which he had no wish to do, so he said, “No matter. Rise.”

Cheng Chang thanked him and stood, but did not step aside. Instead, he continued, “Reporting to Your Majesty, the reason this subject trespassed into Mingyin Temple concerns the campaign at the northern frontier six years ago.”

“Around the New Year, while sorting through old case files, this subject stumbled upon evidence that there may have been hidden circumstances surrounding that campaign six years ago. At first this subject merely suspected as much, but after making careful inquiries, finally found two witnesses at Mingyin Temple who confirmed that the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s costly death in battle was connected to Prince Yun’s disaster relief efforts in Huaibei.”

At these words, the entire hall was thrown into shock.

Years ago, during the great drought in Huaibei, with refugees numbering in the tens of thousands, relief grain had failed to arrive for days on end, and unrest had spread among the desperate populace. Local authorities had reported the crisis to the court overnight, yet no official in the entire court had dared take on such a thankless, dangerous task.

Emperor Zhaoyuan, unable to sleep for nights on end with worry, had finally seen Prince Yun — a prince with no notable achievements to his name at the time — volunteer for the mission, and successfully handle a task no one else could manage.

There had been dissenting voices at court back then, but with over ten thousand soldiers just having died on the northern frontier, no one had wanted to provoke Emperor Zhaoyuan’s wrath at such a sensitive time.

By the time Zhaoyuan’s betrayal, General Xuanwei’s death in battle, and the Crown Prince’s passing had thrown both military and civil affairs into chaos, no one had had the leisure to look closely into how Prince Yun had handled the relief effort.

And now, with the Princess Consort of Prince Yun pregnant and Emperor Zhaoyuan inclined to name Prince Yun as heir — with only the formal decree of investiture still pending — the Third Young Master of Prince Cong’s household had chosen this very moment to bring impeachment charges against the future heir apparent.

“Where does the Third Young Master get such an idea?” A high official in peacock-patterned robes stepped forward from the ranks.

Cheng Chang studied him carefully and recognized him as the Vice Minister of Personnel — one of the officials who, upon news of Prince Yun’s consort’s pregnancy earlier that year, had submitted memorials advocating for Prince Yun’s investiture as heir.

“Back then, Prince Yun was providing disaster relief in Huaibei, while the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor was commanding troops against the enemy on the northern frontier — the two places were a thousand miles apart. How could they possibly be connected?”

Cheng Chang said, “A thousand miles apart, true enough. But at the time, the Marquis urgently needed grain, and Prince Yun urgently needed grain as well. Both places required provisions — naturally, that creates a connection.”

“From what Mingying is implying,” Prince Yun said, staring at Cheng Chang, his tone measured, “it sounds as though he suspects this prince secretly diverted grain that should have been sent to the northern frontier.”

He stepped forward into the center of the hall and cupped his hands upward. “Father, please judge clearly. During the great drought in Huaibei, the provisions this son used for disaster relief are all clearly recorded in the court’s records: first, the local authorities opened their granaries to distribute grain; second, wealthy merchants from Huainan, Huaixi, and Jiangnan made donations; third, the court urgently requisitioned grain from various southern regions and sent it to Huaibei. It’s true the transport routes for grain delivery weren’t ideal at the time, but that was because the drought had sparked unrest among the populace, and to ensure the grain reached Huaibei safely, we sometimes had no choice but to take detours.”

“Mingying has only held the post of Attendant Censor for barely a month — how much cause and consequence could he possibly uncover from simply reading through old case files? This prince knows he enjoys Father’s favor and is eager to establish merit for the court, but surely he cannot simply pin such a grave accusation as private diversion of military grain on this prince based on the flimsiest ‘suspicion,’ erasing entirely the hardship this prince endured in providing relief!”

He flicked his sleeve and bowed deeply toward Emperor Zhaoyuan. “Father, when this son went to Huaibei for disaster relief and witnessed the suffering of the refugees firsthand, he nearly wept with sorrow. Every grain of provisions gathered was hard-won through sleepless days and nights — this son’s conscience is entirely clear!”

“Is your conscience truly clear?” Cheng Chang said. “As you yourself said, there was unrest among the populace in Huaibei at the time, and to avoid being ambushed and robbed while transporting grain, you had to take detours. But such detours should have, at most, gone around nearby hills and villages. Why would they extend all the way to the northwest, even to the northern border regions?”

Prince Yun was taken aback. “Northwest? Northern border? This prince has no idea what you’re talking about.”

Cheng Chang said, “Grain from the court serves different purposes. The grain you used for disaster relief, aside from merchant donations, was mostly official government grain. The grain the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor used to fight on the northern frontier was stockpiled military grain from the border garrisons. There’s been no fighting in the northwest or northern border regions these past years, so most of the grain produced by the border troops through their own farming has been sent to the northern frontier. You claim you never privately diverted any grain — then why would your grain transport route pass through the northwest at all?”

Prince Yun said, “This prince has already explained this clearly — the grain this prince requisitioned, aside from what local authorities donated, came mostly from Jiangnan, Huainan, and Huaixi. This prince never diverted any grain from the northwest or northern border regions.”

Cheng Chang said, “Long-distance grain transport passes through thousands of relay stations along the way. You may alter the transport route, but you cannot alter the number of relay stations the route passes through, or the figures won’t match what local authorities have recorded. That’s precisely why, in modifying your transport route, you used avoiding the unrest as an excuse to repeatedly circle back through the same locations, passing through certain relay stations two or even three times over. But out of a thousand-plus relay stations, you were bound to miss a few — and the ones I found happen to be right near the northwest. Setting aside the unreasonable nature of your grain route, you claim you took detours to avoid the unrest — I understand that. But as I understand it, when you went to provide disaster relief, the Privy Council assigned you five thousand troops, plus the local authorities had many soldiers of their own. Combined, wasn’t that enough to control the unrest?”

“Perhaps you’d say the rioters were also common folk, having turned to banditry only because of the drought, and you didn’t wish to harm them. But at the time, the situation was urgent, with tens of thousands of disaster victims waiting on grain to survive. Surely you understood the difference in priority? By taking detours to avoid rioters and delaying the grain’s arrival, weren’t you putting the trivial before the essential?”

“In truth, the reality was quite the opposite,” Cheng Chang continued, looking at Prince Yun. “Upon first arriving in Huaibei, eager to establish merit, you rushed to requisition grain without properly surveying the routes and local conditions, and urged all parties to speed up transport. As a result, a large batch of grain being transported from Jiangnan and Huaixi was seized by rioters along the way.”

“With the grain you’d carefully gathered lost, what were the tens of thousands of disaster victims in Huaibei waiting for relief supposed to do? Knowing you’d caused a disaster, you scrambled to make up for it and turned to Lord Yao at the Privy Council for help. At that same time, the Marquis also urgently needed grain, with the northwest and northern border’s stockpiled grain about to be sent to the northern frontier. The two of you then conspired together, claiming the courier had been delayed on the road, suppressing the Marquis’s urgent request for grain reinforcements, secretly altering the transport route, and privately swapping the stockpiled grain with official grain — leaving the Marquis waiting in vain for reinforcements that never came, forcing him to seek a swift resolution and pursue the enemy beyond the border.”

“Your Majesty—” Before Cheng Chang had even finished, Yao Hangshan stepped forward and knelt on the ground, pleading earnestly, “The soldiers guarding the northern frontier endure great hardship, and this official has always shown them the utmost consideration. Whenever the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor requested grain, this official never once delayed by even a single day. The Third Young Master’s accusations are baseless and purely speculative — this official has absolutely never done such a thing, absolutely never!”

“I admit I have no concrete proof,” Cheng Chang said.

“But heaven’s net is vast, and nothing escapes it in the end. Records of grain transported from the northwest can be falsified on paper, but the relay stations the grain actually passed through cannot be faked. If you two truly have clear consciences, then let someone go and ask, station by station, through all thousand-plus relay stations, asking the station masters and local soldiers whether any large shipment of grain passed through here six years ago on its way to Huaibei — everything would become clear at once. Do you dare?”

“As for the stockpiled grain at the border, the annual yield is recorded every year by both the Privy Council and the Ministry of Finance, and its production figures differ from the official grain of other regions. You may have managed to falsify the numbers for grain swapping in one particular year, but you couldn’t possibly have altered every single year’s figures retroactively. As long as someone retrieves the yellow registers from the Ministry of Finance and compares them, calculating the average annual yield across the years, any discrepancy will surface immediately. Do you dare?”

“Furthermore,” Cheng Chang paused, “though I lack concrete evidence, I have learned through careful inquiry that after the Marquis’s death, the late Crown Prince suspected foul play in his cause of death and sent people to investigate thoroughly at the northern frontier, only to discover it was you who secretly diverted the stockpiled grain. Enraged, he fell gravely ill from the shock and passed away. Two maidservants who once served at the late Crown Prince’s side can testify to this. I brought these two women out of Mingyin Temple just yesterday, and they are currently waiting outside the palace gates. I now humbly request that Your Majesty summon them to the Golden Throne Hall for a direct confrontation. Do you dare?!”

Prince Yun had assumed Cheng Chang was ignorant and unlearned, and even though he’d reformed somewhat these past months, he still lacked familiarity with official documents and would struggle to dig through them properly. How could a mere month of poring over case files uncover anything meaningful? Yet unexpectedly, Cheng Chang had been thorough and meticulous, not only reading through all the case files but cross-referencing them against the geographical records of Great Sui to pinpoint every unreasonable detail in his grain transport route, identifying the exact relay stations near the northwest out of over a thousand. He had even, at some point, learned arithmetic, mastering how to calculate and analyze even the most complex financial and grain records of the Ministry of Finance.

Only now did Prince Yun finally begin to panic.

Disaster relief was a matter of major state importance. Even as an imperial prince, with Yao Hangshan’s help, he couldn’t possibly have concealed every flaw so perfectly that a determined investigation would find no trace of evidence.

Back then, only because state and military affairs had been so chaotic, and the Crown Prince too gravely ill to survive, had the assembled officials been unwilling to add fuel to the fire, allowing him to muddle through unscathed.

More importantly, Emperor Zhaoyuan had been determined to protect him at the time.

But even if the Emperor wished to shield him, right and wrong ultimately reside in the hearts of the people. Emperor Zhaoyuan cherished his reputation — faced with irrefutable evidence, before the assembled court, would he really still favor him?

Moreover, if his guess was correct, the two palace maids Cheng Chang had brought back from Mingyin Temple were precisely the two who had once served at Cheng Yang’s side, who had witnessed him deliver the poisoned broth to the Crown Prince’s bedside.

The late Crown Prince had been benevolent and beloved by all. The assembled court officials might not risk offending the future heir apparent for the sake of a mere Marquis, but if they learned he had once poisoned the late Crown Prince, they would surely demand justice for him.

Thinking this through, Prince Yun’s mind raced, and a sudden idea struck him: back when he’d poisoned Cheng Yang, his father had known about it. His father’s shielding of him made him an accomplice in the matter. Seen this way, his father was on his side — as long as he could prevent those two maidservants from taking the stand and revealing the truth of that day, the matter of the Ministry of Finance’s records and the grain transport routes that Cheng Chang wanted investigated could be dealt with later; there might still be room to maneuver.

Prince Yun’s gaze fell on Emperor Zhaoyuan, and seeing his father’s eyes fixed coldly on Cheng Chang, he seized the moment and said, “Father, Mingyin Temple has long been sealed off — Mingying’s unauthorized trespass alone is already a crime, and yet he claims to have found witnesses inside. He accuses this son of being eager to establish merit, but I say it is he who is eager for merit! He wants to demand the Ministry of Finance’s yellow registers, calculate grain figures, and send people to investigate transport routes in Huaibei and even the northwest — this son is entirely innocent, let him investigate all he likes! But I beg Father not to be swayed by his slanderous words and mistakenly summon two people whose very identities can hardly be verified for confrontation. This is the Golden Throne Hall, the seat of imperial majesty — how can he simply stage some dramatic vindication based purely on his own claims? This is far too reckless!”

Hearing Prince Yun’s words, Emperor Zhaoyuan fell silent for a long moment before saying, “Chang’er, hand over the two witnesses you brought back from Mingyin Temple to the Ministry of Justice for now. Once the Ministry has questioned them and confirmed their testimony is accurate, I will order the Three Judicial Offices to formally open an investigation into the truth of Fang’er’s disaster relief efforts in Huaibei back then.”

“Reporting to Your Majesty,” Cheng Chang said, “these two people I brought back from Mingyin Temple once served personally at the late Crown Prince’s side — Your Majesty surely recognizes them. It’s only because, after the late Crown Prince’s sudden fatal illness, believing they had failed in their duty to care for him, Your Majesty, in your grief, sent them to be confined at Mingyin Temple. After all these years, you may simply have forgotten.”

Hearing this, Emperor Zhaoyuan’s heart gave a slight jolt.

He remembered the events of that time very clearly. The reason he had kept those two maidservants who had served Yang’er alive was precisely because they had witnessed Fang’er poisoning Yang’er. Keeping them confined rather than executing them was meant to ensure Fang’er never forgot that lesson.

Now, hearing what Chang’er was implying, was he trying to set aside the matter of the poisoning entirely, and speak only of the injustice done to the Marquis?

If the poisoning were set aside, then the fact that he, as Emperor, had shielded his own son from justice would also be conveniently glossed over.

Emperor Zhaoyuan was somewhat taken aback, his gaze involuntarily fixing on Cheng Chang.

Since when had this nephew of his, once known only for causing trouble, become so perceptive, so skilled at navigating delicate situations, so attuned to the hearts of others?

The matter of the poisoning was, in the end, a private family matter between Emperor Zhaoyuan, the late Crown Prince, and Prince Yun. If laid bare in public, it would only bring shame upon the imperial family. Though it could seal Prince Yun’s fate entirely, that step was too dangerous — he might not be willing to take it after all.

So he chose to take a step back, setting Emperor Zhaoyuan aside from this sordid affair entirely, mentioning only Prince Yun, only the Marquis’s injustice.

But this step back wasn’t a complete concession. Thinking it through carefully, it was actually a strategic retreat — he was telling Emperor Zhaoyuan that if the two witnesses weren’t brought before the court immediately, he still had another card to play: he could choose to break entirely with restraint and, using the accusation of Prince Yun poisoning the late Crown Prince, harness the fury of the assembled court to bring the two witnesses forward as testimony regardless.

Only now did Emperor Zhaoyuan fully grasp the situation.

So Cheng Chang had done all of this deliberately — deliberately leading his own Palace Guard to Mingyin Temple, deliberately delaying his return until the second day’s court session, deliberately interrupting the proceedings.

Because only this way could he expose all his actions before everyone, leaving no room for evasion, no place to hide, no way to stall — forcing a direct confrontation with every question raised against him.

As the son of a prince, he had suffered repeated assassination attempts this past year. Yet as Emperor, Zhaoyuan had refused to see justice done for him.

Unable to seek redress through law, unable to seek redress through justice, he had chosen to seek justice for himself.

Well then, Emperor Zhaoyuan thought — back then, Fang’er had dared to poison the Crown Prince; that had been his own wrongdoing. Yun Shuguang had died an unjust death, and the more than ten thousand soldiers on the northern frontier had died unjustly as well. Chang’er had seized upon this to demand accountability from Fang’er — call it karma, then, and let it run its course.

Emperor Zhaoyuan said, “Then bring the two witnesses before the court.”