Chapter 150: Night Interrogation, The Estate Assassin

Will they ever fight side by side again?

After Feng Ze's words trailed off, a brief silence fell over the side hall.

Back in the day, when the Founding Emperor and the first Prince Xuan carved out the empire and vied for supremacy, that was true camaraderie, sharing life and death. Regrettably, people in this world can share adversity, yet often cannot share prosperity. Once the soaring birds are gone, the good bow is put away. Although the Prince Xuan's Estate had remained utterly loyal for generations, it still could not withstand a single secret imperial decree from the Emperor's hand.

Today, the standoff between the imperial court and the Prince Xuan's Estate, though lamentable and sigh-inducing, was ultimately a helpless predicament.

The night was cool as water, the moonlight like fine silk. Shen Qianmo bid farewell to Feng Ze at the entrance of the side hall, while Meng Yuanheng remained seated inside, choosing not to come out. He was not entirely unreasonable; naturally, he trusted Shen Qianmo's feelings for him, but he occasionally enjoyed acting a little spoiled before her, relishing the feeling of being coaxed by her gentle words.

"Feng Ze, it has been many days. Is Madam Chu well?" Shen Qianmo recalled the affectionate wife of the General Conquering the West. If Feng Ze were to lead troops into battle once again, she would be left alone in the capital, yearning for her husband and son.

Feng Ze offered a faint smile. "My mother is still in good health, but she misses my father dearly, as he has not returned to the capital for many years."

At this, thinking of how heartbroken his mother would be if she learned he, too, was to lead troops into battle upon returning to the capital, his gaze instantly dimmed.

Understanding what was on his mind, Shen Qianmo hesitated for a moment before speaking softly, "Feng Ze, actually Princess Qionghua... no, she should be Grand Princess Qionghua now. Because of you, she remains unmarried to this day. Why don't you—"

"Qianmo!" Feng Ze sharply interrupted her. "You know full well how I feel about you... Even if anyone else in this world were to say such words to me, I would not wish for that person to be you. I know that between the two of us... there is simply no possibility in this lifetime, but no matter what, my feelings for you will never change."

Gazing intensely at Shen Qianmo with a firm and resolute expression, Feng Ze turned and strode away without waiting for her reply.

Even if his heart turned to ash, even if all hope was entirely lost, his feelings for her would remain unchanged.

Watching Feng Ze's fast-retreating figure, Shen Qianmo could not help letting out a soft sigh.

Feng Ze, why must you torture yourself like this...

She truly did not wish to lose him as a friend. Originally, she had hoped to use this opportunity to persuade him to let go, but alas, it had completely backfired.

Turning around, the sight that met her eyes was Meng Yuanheng's profoundly gloomy, handsome face. No doubt, although he had remained inside the hall, every single word of her conversation with the general must have reached his ears.

Naturally, Meng Yuanheng trusted Shen Qianmo's devotion to him, but watching another man pour his heart out to his wife would displease anyone, let alone Meng Yuanheng, whose possessiveness knew no bounds. Shen Qianmo could even distinctly sense the heavy killing intent emanating from him.

Knowing how fiercely jealous this fellow could be, Shen Qianmo stepped forward, embraced him, pulled him by the hand, and said softly, "Alright, Ah-Heng, I am tired. Let us return to our chambers."

Under her gentle pacification, the sharp and murderous aura surrounding Meng Yuanheng gradually dissipated once they returned to their room.

Since neither Meng Yuanheng nor Shen Qianmo liked having attendants hovering about, there were no servants inside the room. Lüzhu had already laid out the bed and quietly withdrawn. Carefully helping Shen Qianmo into bed, Meng Yuanheng sat on the edge, wrapped his arms tightly around her, and muttered in a muffled voice, "Mo'er, you are not allowed to be nice to other men. It makes me angry."

Lifting a hand to gently stroke the hair he had intentionally dyed black that afternoon, and sensing the lonely and desolate aura about him, Shen Qianmo understood the lingering grudge in his heart regarding Feng Ze. She pulled back from his embrace, looked him straight in the eyes, traced his slightly furrowed brows with her fingertips, and said softly, "Ah-Heng, no matter how many outstanding men there are in this world, and no matter what you become, in my heart, you are the absolute best and most exceptional one. Do you understand?"

Hearing these words, the gloom in Meng Yuanheng's heart finally cleared. Winning Shen Qianmo's exclusive devotion made him even happier than receiving praise from his father in his childhood.

"Mo'er..." His ink-dark eyes flashed brightly, a low, soft murmur escaping his lips before he tenderly pressed his mouth to hers.

Just as they were lingering in each other's arms, a gentle knock sounded at the door, followed by Yan Mo's purposely lowered voice.

"Reporting to Your Highness, there is an urgent dispatch."

Shen Qianmo pushed him away, caught the unmistakable annoyance in his eyes, patted the back of his hand, and said softly, "Go. If it weren't urgent, Yan Mo wouldn't disturb you at this hour."

Reluctantly, Meng Yuanheng pressed a light kiss to her cherry lips and murmured gently, "Go to sleep first. Don't wait up for me."

"Mn." Shen Qianmo nodded. She watched him open the door and step outside, followed by the sound of a low inquiry once the door was shut.

"What is it?"

Then came Yan Mo's low report. Shen Qianmo could not catch every detail, but she knew it must be related to the waves of assassins that had been sneaking into the prefect's residence over the past few days.

Ever since she arrived in Jingzhou, assassins had frequented the prefect's residence from time to time. Fortunately, Meng Yuanheng's security measures were watertight, and the hidden guards of the Prince Xuan's Estate were everywhere. No matter how many assassins came, they were quietly and invisibly eliminated. Thus, up until now, Shen Qianmo had never actually laid eyes on an assassin. She had only been told by Meng Yuanheng that those assassins belonged to the Shadowless Sect, and all of them were sworn death-pledged agents. It seemed they were undoubtedly coming for the Moji Token in her possession.

What kind of secret was hidden within this Moji Token that made Mo Hanshan expend so much effort and manpower? Shen Qianmo found it truly hard to fathom.

Perhaps once Mo Qingshan arrived in Jingzhou, all of this would finally find its answer.

However, what Shen Qianmo did not expect was that tonight's assassin was not a hitman from the Shadowless Sect.

Inside the dimly lit dungeon of the prefect's residence, Meng Yuanheng lounged lazily in a chair, gazing at the middle-aged man tied to an iron rack, his entire body soaked in blood. He smiled coldly and said, "The Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guard? One of the top martial arts experts in the inner court? Rong Yunhe, the Emperor's trusted confidant and capable general? Or perhaps... Noble Consort Rong's brother? Hmph, Meng Tianxu certainly spared no expense, actually dispatching you to the northwest to assassinate this prince!"

The middle-aged man, whose head had been drooping, suddenly jerked upward. The man before him possessed breathtaking facial features and a smiling gaze, yet it filled his heart with involuntary terror. In a dark, filthy place like a dungeon, this man wore pristine white robes without a single speck of dust, a sight all the more shocking to the senses.

What truly panicked him, however, was that his trip to Jingzhou had been a completely covert operation. Even the Seventh Prince and the others currently on a diplomatic mission to Jingzhou were unaware of his whereabouts, yet Meng Yuanheng had already investigated his background down to the smallest detail.

Seeing Rong Yunhe maintain a formidable aura and an expression of unyielding resolve, Meng Yuanheng raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Commander Rong surely doesn't think that having entered my Jingzhou city and fallen into my hands, you can still walk away unscathed?"

Rong Yunhe let out a cold laugh and rebuked angrily, "Is this Jingzhou city yours, Prince Xuan? Under the vast heaven, all land belongs to the sovereign. Does Prince Xuan truly believe that by occupying Jingzhou, this place becomes your personal territory? Who could have imagined that the illustrious Prince Xuan's Estate, by your generation, Meng Yuanheng, would degenerate into a nest of rebellious traitors! When Meng Baichuan and Meng Langqing face the founding emperor and former emperors in the netherworld, with what face will they meet them?"

To Rong Yunhe's angry scolding, Meng Yuanheng appeared completely unbothered. His gaze remained as cold as ice, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a sneer. "I never took Commander Rong for a loyal and righteous man. Such profound loyalty and patriotism truly command this prince's admiration. However, I wonder if Commander Rong holds that same loyalty toward your beloved confidante and the unborn child in her womb?"

Rong Yunhe's expression shifted dramatically, panic flashing across his fiercely glaring eyes. Only then did he truly believe that Meng Yuanheng had indeed investigated him thoroughly.

If Meng Yuanheng were to threaten him with his family and his wife, he might not care at all; as a concubine-born son who had suffered endless cold treatment in the Rong family since childhood, he held no attachment to the family, including his wife. But the confidante Meng Yuanheng mentioned was the true love of his life. Through all the storms of these past years, it was thanks to her companionship that he had never felt so lonely and desolate. Now she was even pregnant with his child, and he had planned to petition the Emperor for an imperial decree upon returning to the capital after finishing this assignment in Jingzhou, to marry her properly as his official wife.

Seeing his sudden change in complexion, Meng Yuanheng chuckled softly, looking thoroughly pleased with his reaction. With a flick of his hand, Yan Mo immediately stepped forward and handed a portrait to Rong Yunhe.

Upon seeing the painting, Rong Yunhe's eyes widened in horror, his hard-won self-control instantly collapsing. Indeed, the woman depicted on the scroll was lifelike—it was precisely his beloved confidante.

Glaring furiously at the leisurely man before him, he was shaken to his core. It seemed that even though Meng Yuanheng was stationed in the distant northwest, he maintained absolute mastery over the situation in the capital, able to dig up the background of an obscure Imperial Guard officer down to the roots.

Leaning back in his chair, Meng Yuanheng raised his eyes to look at him. "Commander Rong may wish to give this careful thought. This prince respects you as a stout fellow and will not subject you to torture. Do you intend to speak of your own accord, or shall this prince find a way to make you speak?"

"What do you want to know?" Rong Yunhe stared viciously at Meng Yuanheng, speaking through gritted teeth.

Meng Yuanheng stood up, dusted off the lapels of his robe, and said indifferently, "Commander Rong is a favorite in the Emperor's inner circle, having served by his side through thick and thin ever since His Majesty was the Prince of Xu. No doubt you know a great deal about His Majesty's affairs. This prince wishes to know only about that incident seven years ago—tell me everything you know. If Commander Rong holds nothing back, this prince promises to let your family reunite. Otherwise, this prince has no rule against killing women, should you wish for your confidante and her unborn child to perish together."

A faint, bloody red flashed across Meng Yuanheng's placid eyes. Terrified, Rong Yunhe stared at the tall, slender man standing before him, clad in pristine white like snow, with a chilling expression akin to a deity standing atop a snowy peak overlooking all living beings. Such a handsome and refined face appeared to Rong Yunhe at that moment like the visage of a demon.

"Meng Yuanheng, you are a demon! You will die a wretched death!" he shouted furiously, his eyes wide with rage.

"A demon?" Meng Yuanheng gave a cold snort, his tone utterly detached. "Commander Rong knows full well at whose hands this prince was reduced to what I am today. If this prince were not ruthless enough, I would have died ten times over by now, so I do not fear death. I wonder, Commander Rong, do you?"

Faced with Meng Yuanheng's disdainful and icy gaze, Rong Yunhe's face turned ashen, and his limbs went completely limp as he slumped against the iron rack.

Of course he feared death. Having suffered cold treatment since childhood and believing he would never rise in the world, he had stumbled upon the fortuitous opportunity to be taken under the command of the Prince of Xu. Now that the Prince of Xu had ascended the throne, the days of his own prominence were right before his eyes—how could he possibly wish to die?