SS CH64

For a moment, the small courtyard fell so quiet that a falling pin could be heard.

Even though Qin Lanshang had already anticipated something after hearing Dr. Li’s words, the news was far too sudden, catching her completely off guard.

Stumbling, Qin Lanshang felt none of the satisfaction of revenge she had previously imagined upon hearing Ruan Feiyu’s death. All color drained from her face as she looked helplessly at those around her, muttering, “How could that be… When we left that day, wasn’t he still fine?”

Lu Mingyuan replied, “I’m not lying. Master really passed away two nights ago—assassinated at Prince Li’s manor… I saw it with my own eyes.”

Ye Fusheng’s brow twitched. “What happened?”

“That night, Master finished discussing his return to the capital with Prince Li and went to his room to rest, telling me to fetch him at the hour of the Monkey,” Lu Mingyuan said with a wooden expression, yet speaking in an orderly manner. “I went as instructed, only to see him sitting behind his desk, head drooping, bleeding from all seven orifices, staining the books on the desk…”

Qin Lanshang suddenly grew agitated. “And then?”

Lu Mingyuan continued, “I alerted everyone in the manor, and the imperial physicians rushed over, stating Master died from a powerful palm strike to the crown of his head delivered by a high-level master.”

Chu Xiwei knit his brows. “Given the Southern Scholar’s capabilities, who in the world could accomplish such a feat?”

“The imperial physicians found traces of a slow-acting anesthetic in the cloth used to wrap Master’s wounds, capable of quietly paralyzing a martial artist within six hours.”

Qin Lanshang’s voice turned raspy. “The wounds were wrapped by Prince Li’s men—did you not investigate? A senior minister dies in his residence, and Prince Li bears no connection whatsoever?”

Lu Mingyuan let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “He certainly couldn’t escape suspicion, so he turned the entire manor upside down. However, the physician who had bound the wounds had already committed suicide, and in his quarters, they found Prince Duan Chu Yu’s jade pendant.”

The moment these words were spoken, all three froze. They already knew the true story behind Prince Duan’s jade pendant. Yet that item should have been in Ruan Feiyu’s hands—how did it appear beside the physician who delivered the poison?

Qin Lanshang’s mind was a complete jumble. She looked helplessly toward Chu Xiwei, but didn’t catch his eye.

Ye Fusheng, however, let out a long sigh. “I finally understand.”

Qin Lanshang turned her head to look at him. Ye Fusheng raised his eyes and fixed his gaze on Lu Mingyuan. “Minister Ruan didn’t die at another’s hand. It was suicide… am I right?”

Before Lu Mingyuan could speak, Qin Lanshang’s eyes widened. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

Before her words could land, Lu Mingyuan spoke: “Master said Master Ye would certainly understand, and indeed you do.”

Qin Lanshang stood rooted like a wooden post, while Chu Xiwei frowned. “Explain clearly.”

“Six years ago, when Master resigned his post and left the capital, he suffered an assassination attempt on the road. For the sake of the greater picture, Master suppressed the matter and kept silent. However, although the injury wasn’t severe, it was tainted with Youmeng, almost causing the poison to flare up on the spot,” Lu Mingyuan said, staring at Qin Lanshang as the grief on his face hardened into an indelible, heavy ink. “Though many means were employed over these six years, Master’s health steadily deteriorated. The physician at the academy said… he wouldn’t survive past the end of this year at most. Thus, Master had a secret letter delivered to His Majesty, proposing his return to court and reinstatement.”

Qin Lanshang didn’t understand. “If he knew his own condition, why would he still want to return to court?”

Ye Fusheng spoke calmly, “Because Minister Ruan never intended to actually return to court. He merely joined forces with His Majesty to put on a show to deceive the world.”

Chu Xiwei’s mind turned, and he said, “I thought it strange before. Back at Anxi Mountain, Prince Li’s appearance was far too coincidental. Furthermore, the flash flood happened abruptly, sweeping all the way toward the valley entrance. Anyone arriving at that moment without prior knowledge would have suffered heavy casualties, yet they came up by a side path from the very beginning.”

Qin Lanshang suddenly realized something and looked at Lu Mingyuan, who picked up the line: “Indeed. Though Prince Duan harbored great ambitions during the late Emperor’s reign, he drew back his claws following General Qin’s case. Based on Master’s understanding of him, he didn’t believe Prince Duan still possessed treasonous intent; otherwise, he wouldn’t have remained in the capital under His Majesty’s nose for so long.”

Qin Lanshang asked, “So, the one truly collaborating with Burial Soul Palace… was actually Prince Li?”

Ye Fusheng added, “Everyone was suspect, which is why Minister Ruan put on this show, leaking news of his reinstatement. Those with ulterior motives would naturally move upon hearing the wind—he turned himself into bait, waiting for the willing to bite.”

“Master said that when he saw Prince Duan’s jade pendant in the underground palace, he already suspected Prince Li. Because after the pendant shattered ten years ago, even though Prince Duan repaired it, given his pride, he would never use it again to socialize with him,” Lu Mingyuan lowered his eyes. “When he saw Prince Li at Anxi Mountain and the Palace Master of Burial Soul Palace retreated without a fight, Master knew for certain it was him.”

Precisely because of this, back at Anxi Mountain, Ruan Feiyu had subtly belittled them to distance their connection, allowing them to escape unscathed.

Qin Lanshang muttered, “Then why did he still go with Prince Li? Why… did he have to die?”

“Silly girl, as you said earlier, Minister Ruan dying suddenly at Prince Li’s manor is an event larger than poking a hole in the heavens,” Ye Fusheng composed his features. “If I’m not mistaken, that night, Prince Li likely went to see Minister Ruan before Lu Mingyuan did, wanting to plot together, only to find Minister Ruan had already committed suicide.”

Chu Xiwei’s brow twitched. “The whole world knows the Southern Scholar was returning to court. His death could never be covered up. Even if Prince Li didn’t strike the blow himself, an investigation would likely uncover his prior deployments, so he could only alter his plans and frame someone else.”

Lu Mingyuan let out a cold sneer. This scholar usually possessed an impossibly mild temper, yet this sudden, sharp sneer carried a sense of fierce severity.

“The anesthetic on the wrapping cloth was applied by Master himself,” he whispered. “Actually, I had sneaked into Master’s room very early that night, listening to him instruct me on various matters, and then watched as he altered his palm technique to strike his own crown. I couldn’t make a sound or move, hiding in the rafters the entire time… Prince Li indeed came. He was terrified out of his wits, then flew into a rage, taking the jade pendant Master had intentionally gripped in his hand, before shutting the doors and windows to pretend he had never been there.”

He recounted the events smoothly, making Qin Lanshang’s hair stand on end. Lu Mingyuan continued, “After he left, I secretly slipped back to my own room without anyone noticing. At the hour of the Monkey, I went to find Master as instructed, pretending to be terrified to call for help… Prince Li was indeed prepared, silencing witnesses and leaving the pendant to frame Prince Duan. Everything Master said was completely correct.”

Qin Lanshang murmured, “Why did he have to do this?”

Chu Xiwei said, “Because when two tigers fight, one is bound to be injured.”

Prince Li used Burial Soul Palace with Prince Duan as a cover, while spreading news to draw out remnants of the old case—first to coerce, second to frame. Ruan Feiyu was pushed to his wit’s end along the way; to return to court alive, his only path was to collaborate, which was Prince Li’s objective.

If it succeeded, he would gain the Southern Scholar’s backing, winning over all scholars under heaven—a joyous outcome. If it failed, he would find a way to silence him, eliminate a formidable rival, and shift the blame elsewhere.

“Prince Duan staying peacefully in the capital all these years doesn’t mean he’s a declawed tiger. Don’t forget, among the late Emperor’s princes, he was the first to grasp military power,” Ye Fusheng curled his lips. “Though the late Emperor has long passed, the old court faction still predominates. His Majesty’s wings aren’t fully fledged yet, and despite his capability, he remains powerless in many aspects… Minister Ruan’s existence was always His Majesty’s right hand, but his days were numbered. If he didn’t want the new reforms blocked by these people, he had to leave behind new support for His Majesty before he died.”

Qin Lanshang shuddered. “Prince Duan?!”

“To protect himself, Prince Li framed Prince Duan. This matter could have been large or small, but escalating to this point, no one dares take on the charge of murdering a senior minister and plotting rebellion,” Lu Mingyuan raised his head, his fingers slowly clenching into fists. “Master used his own life to scheme against Prince Duan, forcing him—who originally intended to stay out of it—to act in self-defense. Yet Prince Li was fully prepared; if Prince Duan didn’t want to be framed and controlled, his only choice was to pledge loyalty to His Majesty and become a new core pillar of the court. However, to win His Majesty’s trust and persuade Prince Duan, both rely on the personal secret letters Master wrote before his death.”

The corner of Ye Fusheng’s mouth turned up slightly. “The letters are in your hands.”

Lu Mingyuan nodded. “Yes. I must return to Sanmei Academy as quickly as possible and send trusted confidants to secretly deliver these two letters. But at this juncture, Prince Li already suspects me, so he naturally won’t let me leave.”

“Which is why he had us stay here for three more days—to act as your backup, leveraging the power of the Baigui Sect to escort you safely back to Sanmei Academy,” Chu Xiwei sneered cold-heartedly, though without much resentment. “Court matters are settled by political maneuvering, while Jianghu matters must ultimately be settled by the Jianghu. Burial Soul Palace daring to interfere in treasonous affairs makes them scum of the Jianghu, but dealing with them requires Jianghu strength. The Baigui Sect presenting itself at his door was quite convenient, wasn’t it?”

Killing three birds with one stone, orchestrating a board where even his own life was a chess piece—a single tug moving the entire structure—across the whole world, only the Southern Scholar could pull this off.

Regrettably, such a figure capable of calculating the universe was gone after all.

Qin Lanshang’s throat choked up, barely forcing out her words: “He clearly said… he would give me an explanation… He’s the Southern Scholar, how could he break his promise?”

“Speaking of which, Master instructed me to inform Miss Qin of a few things,” Lu Mingyuan reached into his robes, searching for something as he continued without pause: “Miss likely knows Master’s original name was Zhou Shen. Then let me tell you one more thing… Forty-five years ago, the commander whose head was severed by General Qin’s father, Qin Jingwu, as a strategy to gain the rebel king’s trust—his name was Zhou Ye, Master’s biological father.”

Qin Lanshang’s whole body trembled, and then heard him continue: “Over thirty years ago, among the three thousand Qin family troops submerged by the flash flood at Anxi Mountain, Military Advisor Zhou Xi was Master’s elder brother, and his last remaining family member.”

A flash of shock crossed Chu Xiwei’s eyes, and Ye Fusheng’s expression shifted as well.

Lu Mingyuan pulled a yellowed, hand-bound volume from his chest—the very book Ruan Feiyu never let leave his side, except now a small patch was stained red, unclear whether it was Lu Mingyuan’s blood or Ruan Feiyu’s.

With hands covered in blood, sweat, and dirt, he held the book out to Qin Lanshang, saying, “The explanation Master gave you, Miss, is all inside this book.”

Qin Lanshang froze in place. Shaking uncontrollably, she reached out to take it, then suddenly snapped her hand back. Her face turned ghastly white, her voice trembling: “I… I don’t want it! Tell him to say it himself! I won’t read it!”

Lu Mingyuan said in a deep voice, “Miss Qin, please accept it.”

Qin Lanshang looked toward Chu Xiwei and Ye Fusheng, but neither gave her a glance. In silence, they reached a tacit agreement to let her take this explanation with her own two hands alone.

She had nowhere left to retreat, nor could she retreat any further.

When Qin Lanshang took the book, she nearly dropped it to the ground. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled multiple times before finally opening the first page.

She realized at last that this was not a book, but a volume bound together from dozens of letters.

A total of thirty-seven letters, yet bearing only a single signature: Zhou Shen.

And only one recipient: Qin Hebai.

The dates stretched from the time he changed his name and entered Ruan Qingxing’s tutelage down to the beginning of this month—one letter every year, without missing a single one.

Suddenly, a feeling rushed over her: she wasn’t reading letters, nor was she reading a so-called explanation. She was witnessing the wind and frost of the past thirty-seven years.