Chapter Forty-Nine: Trust and Forgiveness

A few people noticed the subtle movements among the three, and they quietly stepped back; others turned away, pretending to admire the flowers out of boredom. Two of them, observing the actions of the others, moved to block Yang Jixuan’s path.

Yang Jixuan also sensed something strange in these people. He rose to his feet, drew a dagger from his black boots, and assumed a desperate, battle-ready stance. Seeing this, some of the others produced various short blades from their bosoms, sleeves, or boot shafts. Tension hung suspended in the air.

In the silence, Yang Jixuan could distinctly hear the pounding of his own heart. He tightened his grip on the dagger, his eyes sharp and vigilant like a wolf, scanning everyone around him. Lord Song was the one who had supported him; now, it was time to repay that favor. He only hoped Lord Di was safe. As long as Lord Di was unharmed, Lord Song would also be safe.

…

Meanwhile, on Di Ying’s side.

After hearing Yao Cong recount the case, Di Ying sipped his tea thoughtfully, then spoke: “Wu Jianhui is in trouble now. Yuan Zhi, what do you think—have Wu Jianhui and Wu Xiangjin had any dealings with each other?”

Yao Cong, who had been sunk in gloom, suddenly looked up, his eyes flickering with a trace of hope, only to dim again in the next instant. He shook his head and replied, “There’s no connection. There’s too much of a generational gap; if there’s any link, it would be with Wu Qiongsi. But you know His Majesty—no matter what, she would never move against Wu Qiongsi.”

“Yes,” Di Ying sighed heavily. The table fell silent for a moment.

His Majesty had always used “outside ministers” like them merely to patch up the cracks, never to deal with those who were knocking holes into the wall itself.

Di Ying was already aware of the case Yao Cong mentioned. It was one of the many lingering unsolved cases at the Court of Judicial Review. Di Ying never forgot a case, especially not this kind. Moreover, the files for these unresolved cases were always brief; some, like Wu Minzhe’s, were summed up in just a few lines.

As he slowly sipped his tea, Di Ying’s mind worked quickly. Once his cup was empty, he set it down and asked Yao Cong, “To solve Wu Minzhe’s case, we need evidence first. Do you know where the incident occurred?”

Yao Cong nodded.

Di Ying continued, “That common woman disappeared—what about her family? Do you know where they are? Are they still around?”

Yao Cong nodded again.

Di Ying pressed further, “You know where Wu Minzhe’s body was buried, don’t you? And what about the attendant Wu Xiangjin put forward to take the blame—where is he? Still working at Wu Qiongsi’s residence, or has he vanished?”

“That man’s name is Ma Cai, and he’s still at Wu Qiongsi’s estate. But the other attendants who went out with them that day have all disappeared,” Yao Cong replied, nodding as he spoke.

Di Ying pondered aloud, “Wu Qiongsi is Minister of Rites. Ma Cai is likely a houseborn servant, and his family all works at the Minister’s residence… Very well. Quietly have someone abduct Ma Cai and keep him hidden away. Otherwise, the moment I start investigating, they’ll likely kill him to silence any witnesses.”

Ma Cai was alive only because Wu Xiangjin believed the affair had blown over. Besides, a scapegoat is more useful alive than dead. But as soon as Di Ying began his investigation, the Wus would quickly hear of it, and Ma Cai’s death would soon follow. Wu Xiangjin or Wu Qiongsi would make sure the case was buried for good.

Di Ying meant to strike first. In any case, Ma Cai was implicated, and the case was unresolved; he could be detained at any time for questioning.

Yao Cong was taken aback for a moment before he understood. He stood, cupped his hands in a deep bow to Di Ying.

Di Ying did not evade the gesture. Since he had taken over this cold case, he would see it through to the end.

The reason he let his horse go was threefold: first, as an excuse to approach Yao Cong, currently the only “aggrieved party” in the case; second, to keep the Wu family from discovering that he and Peng Liang had slipped into the flower house in advance, which was why, after leaving the house, they circled back into the city through the East Gate; third, because he truly was poor and genuinely needed the horse.

Yao Cong’s reason for demanding the horse today was probably much the same. In a roundabout way, the two ended up of one mind.

Originally, Di Ying had intended to wait until Wu Jianhui’s case was concluded, so that the success would instill more confidence in Yao Cong before bringing up Wu Minzhe’s case. Who could have foreseen that Yao Cong would come to him so urgently?

But perhaps it was for the best. It meant Yao Cong now had some trust in him, and that was enough.

Di Ying rose, returned half a bow, and said, “Let’s prepare for all contingencies. Take the families of both the missing woman and Wu Minzhe somewhere safe—they are all victims.”

“And another thing: have Wu Minzhe’s remains exhumed and properly kept. I will need to examine them myself in due course.” As he spoke, he placed a reassuring hand on Yao Cong’s shoulder. “I’m taking this case. Be patient and proceed carefully, step by step.”

Feeling the warmth of Di Ying’s hand, Yao Cong nodded emphatically. He was prepared to wait as long as necessary.

…

Elsewhere.

The notoriously arrogant Wu Jianhui was completely unconcerned when he heard there was a decree for his arrest, even preparing to ride into the palace himself. But the Imperial Guards wasted no time in knocking him to the ground and hauling him, bound, to the imperial study.

Only then did Wu Jianhui sense a change in the wind.

Upon seeing His Majesty, he fell to his knees with a thud, crawling forward until his forehead touched the emperor’s feet. He wailed, “Your Majesty! Long live the Emperor! I am your nephew—haven’t you always been so kind and affectionate to us? Whatever you wish to say, just tell me—I will change, I promise! Please, show the mercy of a great elder and spare me this once!”

“Spare you?!” The old emperor sneered, kicking Wu Jianhui aside. Pointing at him, the emperor scolded, “I’ve treated you all better than my own kin, yet how have you repaid me? All of my food, clothing, and supplies—the imperial merchant quotas—have been handed over to our Wu family. And what did you do? You gave me poisonous things to use! Today it was on my face; tomorrow, would it be in my body? Are you dissatisfied with how long I’ve lived? Do you think that since I keep a close watch on the Wus, you should get rid of me? But if I really fell, do you think you’d see better days? Answer me!”

Wu Jianhui was utterly terrified. He shuddered, finally understanding what was happening, and kowtowed desperately.

He tried to explain, “That time, it was a careless servant who picked the poisonous flowers and put them in the basket. But I discovered it quickly and destroyed them in time… It’s just that some had already been sent into the palace… Your Majesty—Aunt! I swear I had no ill intent! That mistake left me with no other choice. I only secretly had the tainted rouge switched out… Aunt, please forgive me. I dare not ever again, never again!”