Chapter Nineteen: Floating Clouds Obscure the Eyes

It was a night without a moon, the darkness dense as freshly ground ink. Within the palace, the lanterns still burned as the palace maids withdrew one after another.

The clouds parted, and suddenly the moon shone bright. Under the eaves, the shadows of blossoms trembled; a figure clad in black leapt down from the wall, gliding like a wraith into the hall.

“Your Highness,” he greeted respectfully.

The man stood before the latticed window, hands clasped behind his back. Half his face was illuminated by lamplight, the other half veiled in shadow.

His voice was low and hoarse. “Du Zhong has gone to Jiangzhou. I do not wish for further trouble. If it becomes necessary, eliminate him.”

The man in black nodded and vanished swiftly into the darkness.

The man’s gaze fell upon the pitch-black night beyond the window. He watched those power struggles and intrigues that the night could not conceal, surging in the blood—a clamor of undying desire.

The journey from the capital to Jiangzhou was long, passing through desolate mountains and wilds, rough and jarring. Considering Chen Shishi in the sedan, Du Zhong occasionally allowed the group to rest along the way.

This was a covert investigation, and he had brought only five men.

Chen Shishi alighted from the sedan and approached Du Zhong, who was leaning against a tree, drinking from his water pouch. He nodded to her in greeting.

Once a woman of mature grace, Chen Shishi still bore traces of her former charm, though now her face was pale and lined with weariness.

Suddenly, she knelt before him, tears streaming down her face. “Sir, I beg you, please help me!”

Du Zhong straightened. “You need not kneel. This is my duty—I will do my best.”

With a look, he signaled Wang Chengcheng, who gently helped Chen Shishi up.

Tears still stained her cheeks as she spoke, “My husband is a kind man, always on good terms with the Su family. He could never commit such a cruel act. I truly don’t understand why he would take the blame upon himself.”

“Since I have come to Jiangzhou, I will see this case through to the end.”

Prefect Wang Tuo had sent men to wait for them at the entrance of the city. Though surprised, Du Zhong composed himself and went to meet Wang Tuo—since he was here, he would adapt as needed. Wang Tuo received him with great enthusiasm, but whenever the case of Lin Songchang came up, his answers were vague, evading the subject with empty words.

“Prefect Wang, you know very well why I am here. Don’t play games—I am not a patient man.” Du Zhong’s gaze was cold as he looked across at Wang Tuo, who was known as a smiling tiger—pleasant on the surface, ruthless underneath.

“Sir Du, I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you.” Wang Tuo kept smiling.

“The Su family massacre is riddled with doubts—motive, method, whether there were accomplices. Are you certain you know all the facts?”

“Oh, that matter.” Wang Tuo smacked his lips and grinned. “I am simply following protocol. Lin Songchang confessed of his own accord; there’s no need to go over the process. Such a savage man should be executed quickly, for the good of the people.”

“Are you sure about that, Prefect Wang?”

“How could I not be?”

Du Zhong curled his lips in a faint smile and saw no need to continue. “Very well then, I shall take my leave.”

Wang Chengcheng followed behind as they reached the door. Wang Tuo called out, “Sir, please wait.”

Wang Chengcheng looked back in confusion. Du Zhong replied coolly, “Is there something else, Prefect Wang?”

Wang Tuo’s smile remained, but a chill and mockery edged his voice. “Sir Du, though you are Lord of the Court of Justice, some matters are beyond your reach. My advice is to return home while you still can.”

Du Zhong’s heart sank, his brows knitting together. Since covert means had failed, he would proceed in the open. He turned and declared, “From this moment, the Su family massacre will be investigated by the Court of Justice. I do not wish to see you interfere further.”

Wang Tuo smiled politely, nodding as he watched Du Zhong depart, shaking his head. “Overestimating himself.”

He and Du Zihong had entered officialdom the same year and were once close, but their views diverged and they grew apart. Today, his warning was well-intentioned; he had done his utmost.

Personally investigating cases was beyond the scope of the Lord of the Court of Justice, but Du Zhong had come nonetheless. He sensed Jiangzhou was not simple—there was a deeper story here.

Even before meeting Wang Tuo, he had anticipated this outcome. But just whose man was Wang Tuo?

“Sir, three months ago, the assassination of the Second Prince’s tutor—could it be linked to this case?” Wang Chengcheng asked.

“Wang Tuo was once a protégé of Minister Huang Han of Public Works, who seems quite close to the Second Prince,” Du Zhong replied. “Have men watch Wang Tuo’s every move. You come with me to the Su residence.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Su residence door was sealed, with two yamen guards standing watch. As the two approached, the guards barked, “Who goes there?”

“We are investigating on behalf of the Court of Justice,” Wang Chengcheng announced, showing his token. The two exchanged glances and immediately stepped aside.

“Why is the door sealed?” Du Zhong asked.

“Sir, the Su family is gone, their assets confiscated. We are here by order to guard the premises.”

The once-grand Su residence was now deserted, its pavilions and towers echoing with the memory of former prosperity. Du Zhong entered a room, breathing in the faint scent of blood lingering in the air.

“Sir! Come look at this!” Wang Chengcheng called from the garden.

Du Zhong approached. By the wall grew a peach tree, and on one of its branches lingered a smear of dark red. He crouched, touching the soil beneath—it, too, reeked faintly of blood.

“What do you think?” Du Zhong asked.

“In my opinion, there was a struggle here,” Wang Chengcheng replied.

“A struggle? Massacre is more apt,” Du Zhong said softly, his eyes turning icy.

Wang Tuo was furious. “I told you to watch Chen Shishi—what good are you, letting her slip away to the Court of Justice?”

The subordinate’s forehead beaded with sweat. “It was just a lapse, sir. Please punish me.”

“Get out. I’ll deal with you later,” Wang Tuo snapped, annoyed at this new complication.

Du Zhong sat in Chen Shishi’s home, questioning her about Lin Songchang’s last days. As they spoke, a youth burst in, sharing her features.

“Mother, I’m home.” The boy had a blade of grass in his mouth, slouching with a roguish air.

Seeing Du Zhong, he asked, “Who’s this?”

Chen Shishi hurriedly pulled him over. “This is Lord Du of the Court of Justice, here to investigate your father’s case. Thank him, quickly.”

She gave a shy smile. “This is my son, Lin He. He’s a bit unruly; forgive us, sir.”

Du Zhong nodded, his gaze fixed intently on the boy. Lin He’s sudden anxiety did not escape him.

Lin He’s eyes darted about, never meeting Du Zhong’s; his fists clenched, breath quickening.

Even Chen Shishi noticed. “He’er, what’s wrong?”

“I…I…” Fear flickered in the boy’s eyes. “Nothing, Mother. I’m going to bed. Forgive me, Lord Du.”

“What’s gotten into him?”

“Madam Chen, has he acted strange recently?” Du Zhong asked.

“No, not really. Although…one day, I remember he came home with my husband. Both of them looked unwell, but when I asked, they wouldn’t say. Not long after, the incident occurred,” Chen Shishi replied with a bitter smile.