At the third watch of the night, Emperor Jinglong returned to the Yangxin Hall in plain clothes.
“Has anything important happened while I was away?” the emperor asked Lan Xi habitually, as he washed his face and hands.
Lan Xi reported: “Today’s memorials from the Six Ministries were all sent to the Grand Secretariat. The grand councilors likely won’t draft their proposals until tomorrow, then they’ll be sent here to Yangxin Hall for Your Majesty’s review.
“And also, in the past few days, Li Shangshu and the other councilors have repeatedly petitioned for the Crown Prince to return to the palace, saying that his body is precious and that the Ancestral Temple is sparsely staffed, making it unsuitable for prolonged residence. Didn’t Your Majesty instruct that we leak the news to the young master’s side to see how he would react?”
The emperor moved the warm cloth from his face, revealing a pair of long, deep-set eyes still misted with moisture. “Let me guess—he was unwilling to return before, but now he’s suddenly willing?”
“Your Majesty is brilliant. You guessed it perfectly!” Lan Xi laughed. “The young master had originally insisted on staying the full forty-nine days at the Ancestral Temple to transcribe scriptures and pray for the late Empress’s soul, refusing to return. But after last night’s explosion, when he heard that the window frames and glazed tiles of Yangxin Hall had been shaken loose and might’ve injured Your Majesty, he rushed back early this morning to inquire after Your health. But by then, Your Majesty had already left the palace. I had to persuade him at length before he agreed to return to Duanben Hall. He’ll likely come again first thing tomorrow morning. His filial devotion is something anyone with eyes can see.”
The emperor placed the cloth on the basin’s edge for the palace maid to take away. “There’s no need for you to speak in his defense. What happened at Kunning Palace—I’ve yet to forgive him.”
“Yes, yes,” Lan Xi quickly replied. “Your Majesty’s stern rebuke comes from deep love, while the young master’s filial piety is his own virtue. The two shouldn’t be conflated.”
The emperor chuckled and scolded, “Wily old eunuch, always flattering both sides with a single sentence. Anything else?”
Lan Xi pretended to only now recall, “Tongzhi of the Embroidered Guards, Shen Qi, submitted a secret report saying it’s a matter of urgency and requested a personal audience. He’s currently waiting outside the Forbidden Gate. Has been waiting… perhaps over half an hour now.”
“Shen Qi?” The emperor mused for a moment before ordering, “Summon him.”
Lan Xi accepted the decree, exited the hall, and instructed a court attendant to relay the summons.
Before long, Shen Qi arrived in the imperial-bestowed navy blue flying fish robe, escorted by the eunuch, and left his embroidered spring blade at the gate before entering the hall with measured steps.
Previously, the emperor had granted him permission to report without kneeling. Shen Qi cupped his fists in salute, offered blessings for the emperor’s well-being, and then said, “Your servant has an urgent matter to report.”
The aroma of tea filled the air. The emperor sat on a round-backed chair and lifted a yellow-glazed cup from the table.
“What is it?” he said calmly. “Speak.”
Staring at the emperor’s hand holding the cup, Shen Qi declared shockingly, “Ning Wang harbors treasonous intent.”
The emperor’s fingers paused. He asked, “What makes you say that?”
“Ning Wang has planted spies in the capital, secretly observing the court, currying favor with officials, and spreading slanderous rumors about Your Majesty and the Crown Prince. His motives are sinister and his ambitions clear. I beseech Your Majesty to investigate thoroughly.”
“Oh?” The emperor used the lid to push away the tea leaves and sipped. “And how do you know this? Did his spy try to recruit you?”
“Your Majesty is wise beyond compare. Indeed, tonight a spy of Ning Wang approached me and spoke many rebellious words, trying to lure me into defecting. To extract more information, I played along. His words were arrogant and audacious—too offensive to repeat in full for fear of polluting Your Majesty’s ears. But one term stood out to me.”
The emperor seemed intrigued and leaned forward slightly. “What term?”
‘Gatekeeper.’ He called himself the Gatekeeper, and said behind him lay a grand avenue. That word rang familiar. After much thought, I recalled—the old eunuch who guarded the secret passage beneath Linhua Pavilion also called himself a ‘Gatekeeper.’”
The emperor fell into deep thought. This was a detail his personal guards had not reported. Last night’s explosion in the underground tunnel had happened while Shen Qi, Yu Wang, and Su Yan were present. If this were untrue, it would be easily disproven. Shen Qi wouldn’t, and couldn’t, risk telling a lie that would be quickly exposed. As for the spy accusation’s credibility…
Shen Qi continued: “So I began to suspect there may be some connection between the Hidden Sword Sect, the Seven Kill Camp, and Ning Wang. Could last night’s explosion at the gunpowder depot—and earlier accidents—also be linked to him?”
The emperor remained noncommittal, and asked instead, “One thing I don’t understand—how did you confirm the spy’s identity?”
Shen Qi replied: “Before his execution, Feng Qu’e confessed while imprisoned at the Northern Surveillance Bureau. I initially assumed he was lashing out recklessly before death and didn’t investigate his so-called contact. But after meeting the man last night, I realized his testimony was likely true. Ning Wang, dissatisfied with Xin Wang’s death, has been recruiting loyalists from among the court and cultivating forces in the martial world, raising death warriors. If this isn’t treason, what else could it be?”
“Feng Qu’e…” the emperor said slowly, “It’s been a long time since I heard that name.
“I recall the last time I heard it, it was from your mouth—wasn’t that also tied to Ning Wang?”
Shen Qi understood what the emperor meant.
It was late last June, the day before Su Yan was due to leave the capital. The emperor had summoned him to answer for secretly escorting a drugged Su Yan out of the palace, falsely invoking an imperial decree. Shen Qi had been punished with half a month’s imprisonment.
But actually, that wasn’t the first time the matter had come up. He and the emperor had first discussed it on the seventh day of the sixth month—Su Yan’s birthday.
While Su Yan waited in Yangxin Hall for the emperor to personally crown him, the emperor had been delayed—because, on his way back from Yongning Palace, he’d summoned Shen Qi for a private audience.
“I interrogated Feng Qu’e,” Shen Qi had said then, “and learned that Ning Wang had sent agents to approach him last year. I suspect he’s secretly colluding with a county prince. I searched his house for evidence but found nothing. Still, I believe the matter is grave and came to report it.”
The emperor had taken the matter seriously. They’d talked for a long time, suspecting Ning Wang of buying off court officials and personal guards of the emperor, with some hidden plot.
So why, more than half a year later, did the emperor seem to have forgotten it entirely—taking no action? And just now, when Shen Qi brought up Ning Wang again, his expression was unreadable…
A foreboding unease crept into Shen Qi’s heart.
With a thud, the emperor slammed the teacup onto the table. “Shen Qi… oh, Shen Qi. Do you not understand the saying, ‘The clever are often ruined by their own cleverness’?”
Shen Qi bowed his head. “If I have misspoken, I beg Your Majesty to enlighten me.”
The Emperor rose and paced to stand before him. “Raise your head. Look at Zhen—I shall enlighten you.”
Shen Qi forcibly suppressed countless emotions in a blink. Only when he was certain his expression and gaze revealed nothing did he lift his head, gazing obediently at the ruler’s composed, inscrutable face.
The Emperor looked him directly in the eye and said, “Ning Wang could not possibly rebel.”
This statement was made with absolute certainty. Shen Qi was momentarily stunned, and couldn’t help but ask, “Why does Your Majesty say this?”
“Because he lacks both the will and the reason to rebel—he is dying, and has no heir. Who would he be fighting for this throne?”
Shock rippled through Shen Qi’s heart. His expression froze slightly. “Dying…?”
“Otherwise,” the Emperor said gravely, “do you think I’ve done nothing for over half a year because I was indifferent to the matter? Ning Wang has contracted tuberculosis. He does not have long to live.”
That ominous premonition grew heavier, like a sky full of dark clouds pressing down on his head. Shen Qi clenched his fists, voice hoarse. “Ning Wang is far away in his fief in Henan. The truth of his illness still needs to be verified.”
“When I first received the news, I thought the same,” the Emperor replied. “So I dispatched an envoy of concern, bringing three imperial physicians from the Imperial Medical Institute to Henan to examine him.”
He turned to Lan Xi: “Summon Director Wang.”
Soon after, Wang Chunfu arrived, carrying his medicine chest. He thought the Emperor’s chronic head ailment had flared up again and had rushed over, breathless.
The Emperor said, “Director Wang went as well. Let him tell you about Ning Wang’s condition.”
Only then did Wang Chunfu realize he had been summoned as a witness. He carefully recounted the events at that time, finally concluding: “His Highness Ning Wang is indeed afflicted with tuberculosis, and it’s quite advanced. This is not a recent illness. I swear upon my over forty years of medical practice that the diagnosis is accurate. Even if I were wrong, could all three of us physicians be mistaken?”
Shen Qi’s mind buzzed. Out of habit, he asked, “Are you certain it was Ning Wang himself? What if it was a lookalike, a substitute…”
Wang Chunfu laughed. “Lord Shen! His Highness Ning Wang is only twenty-seven. Before he was even born, I was already serving as a physician in the late emperor’s Qin Wang’s Residence. How could I not recognize him? He has three red moles along his ribs on his chest—I saw them clearly while examining him. It could not be anyone else.”
Tuberculosis… Yes. A prince with a terminal illness, and no offspring—what will or reason could he possibly have to plot rebellion?
If Ning Wang was cleared of suspicion, then what of Feng Que’e’s testimony? What of this supposed spy? The wonton vendor Shen Qi encountered tonight, and Chu Yuan who had been shadowing him—what were they?
Shen Qi’s face turned cold, his voice indifferent. “I request to see Chu Yuan—the Vice Commander.”
Lan Xi shrieked, “Insolence! You think just because you request it, His Majesty must summon someone? Who gave you the audacity to behave so wildly before the Emperor?”
The Emperor raised his hand, signaling calm. “He wants the truth—let him have it. Summon Chu Yuan.”
A short while later, Chu Yuan entered in full uniform, cupping his fist. “Your subject obeys the summons.”
The Emperor nodded slightly toward Shen Qi. “Whatever he asks, answer truthfully.”
“As Your Majesty commands.”
Shen Qi asked, “Was Vice Commander Chu accompanying the Emperor tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Did you leave midway? If so, where did you go?”
“I did not leave midway. Oh—when His Majesty was at Lord Su’s residence, I received intelligence from one of our agents that remnants of the Hidden Sword Sect were on the move—near Yu Wang’s residence. I reported it to His Majesty and left early to inform His Highness Yu Wang to strengthen defenses. Then I waited for the royal procession on the avenue outside the residence.”
So Gao Shuo had indeed seen Chu Yuan leave. But he hadn’t been tailing him—he’d gone to Yu Wang’s estate. Then who was the figure resembling Chu Yuan watching him near the wonton stall?
No… That shadow might not have been Chu Yuan at all—only someone with similar complexion and build. Under the dim lights, from a distance of over ten paces, it was only a fleeting glance. He may well have mistaken the person, influenced by assumptions.
—No, not a mistake, but a deliberate setup. The other party had intentionally created the illusion that Chu Yuan was following him, leading him to believe the Emperor already knew, forcing him to rush in and “confess” about Ning Wang.
—But Ning Wang had already been cleared by the Emperor—Shen Qi just hadn’t known. Everything he told the Emperor was now baseless accusation.
—To falsely accuse a royal prince of plotting treason—what an unforgivable crime!
—Even if the Emperor were merciful and forgave this rash misstep, would he ever again believe anything Shen Qi said—about Feng Que’e, Ning Wang, the Hidden Sword Sect, or the Seven Kill Camp?
What a brilliantly crafted trap—one that had anticipated his character and behavior to the finest degree. Shen Qi had walked right into it. He had no one to blame.
Shen Qi let out a deep breath, lifted his robe hem, and knelt in a full kowtow. “Your subject… is guilty.”
The Emperor waved for Wang Chunfu and Chu Yuan to withdraw.
Chu Yuan, uneasy, reminded: “Your Majesty’s safety must come first…” clearly hinting that Shen Qi was untrustworthy and should not be left alone with the Emperor.
The Emperor said calmly, “I’m well aware.” He looked down at Shen Qi’s back. “Lord Shen was injured last night during the arrest. He can barely lift his arm—what danger could he pose?”
Only then did Chu Yuan take his leave.
The Emperor returned to his desk, wrote a brief note, and handed it to Lan Xi, motioning for him to withdraw as well.
Lan Xi understood the Emperor intended to speak to Shen Qi in private. The decision was made; there was no changing His Majesty’s mind. He could only bow and leave.
Once outside the hall, Lan Xi opened the note. It read: “Secretly summon Su Yan to Yangxin Hall. Do it immediately.”
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