Chapter 91

Proofreader: Mim

“Don’t worry, Zhaoyi. His Majesty will surely take care of this matter for you,” the palace attendants tried to reassure Lu Yao, who was pacing anxiously in the Changqiu Hall.

“Sister Li, where do you think Jianxi could have gone? Could she have been… captured?” Lu Yao’s voice trembled as tears welled up in her eyes.

Li Zhi took her hands firmly and said, “Jianxi is clever and quick. Nothing will happen to her.”

As she finished speaking, a eunuch’s clear voice rang out: “His Majesty has arrived!”

Everyone in the hall dropped to their knees in unison, bowing in the direction of the Emperor.

Xie Shencong walked in, helping Lu Yao up from the ground. “Zhaoyi, why are you so anxious? What’s the matter?”

“Your Majesty, Jianxi is missing!” Lu Yao cried, her tears flowing freely. “Please, I beg you, send someone to find her!”

Xie Shencong chuckled, wiping the tears from her face with his thumb. “You’re this distressed over a cat? Perhaps Jianxi is just basking in the sun somewhere. Cats do that.”

“No, that’s impossible. Jianxi never stays away this long. The palace staff who feed her said she hasn’t returned for meals in two days,” Lu Yao explained, clutching the Emperor’s arm. “Please, Your Majesty, help me find her!”

“Alright, alright. It’s just a cat. No need to panic—Gao Shan!”

At the Emperor’s command, Gao Shan stepped forward from the shadows, bowing respectfully. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Have the palace guards assist in searching for the Zhaoyi’s cat,” Xie Shencong instructed.

“Understood.”

As the Emperor stayed to comfort Lu Yao, Li Zhi tactfully excused herself from the hall.

The imperial guards quickly mobilized, and by the afternoon, news came back: Jianxi had been spotted on the red walls of the Eastern Palace.

What had initially been dismissed as “just a cat” turned into a significant matter once the Eastern Palace was involved.

The Eastern Palace, abandoned since the treason case years ago, remained a forbidden zone sealed with heavy iron locks. Only Gao Shan, the Emperor’s trusted aide, held the key. When informed that the cat had entered the Eastern Palace, Xie Shencong was reluctant to get involved. However, he eventually caved under Lu Yao’s tearful pleas.

With a sigh of exasperation and a hand pressed to his temple, the Emperor finally allowed the Eastern Palace to be unlocked, but only on the condition that one person be sent inside to retrieve the cat—and they were to exit immediately upon finding it.

After leaving Ziwei Palace, Lu Yao practically skipped down the stairs, her excitement evident as she grabbed Li Zhi’s hand.

“Sister Li, you were absolutely right!” she whispered quickly before Gao Shan caught up to them. “The more I throw a tantrum, the less angry the Emperor gets with me!”

Li Zhi smiled knowingly. She wasn’t surprised.

Take Noble Consort Yi, for example. She had remained the Emperor’s favorite for years, not just for her childlike appearance but for her childlike personality as well. The Emperor seemed to enjoy this kind of naivety.

Lu Yao began debating who to send into the Eastern Palace. Li Zhi volunteered immediately. “I should go. Jianxi grew up under my care. If she hears my voice, she might come out on her own.”

Li Zhi successfully secured permission to enter the Eastern Palace.

At the gates of the long-sealed palace, Gao Shan stepped forward, unlocking the rusty iron chains that had kept the Eastern Palace shut for years. The heavy locks clattered to the ground as the gates creaked open.

Li Zhi followed closely behind Gao Shan, stepping into the desolate grounds.

“Where does Director Li wish to search?” Gao Shan turned to her, his calm gaze betraying no emotion.

Li Zhi had a gut feeling that her true intentions were an open book to Gao Shan.

“Jianxi loves playing near water. Where is the lake?”

“There is a Lakeside Pavilion in the Eastern Palace,” Gao Shan said. “Head north, and you’ll find it. I’ll search the other direction. Let’s meet back here before sunset.”

Li Zhi silently thanked Gao Shan for his apparent willingness to turn a blind eye and quickly made her way north.

The Eastern Palace, abandoned for years, was a shadow of its former glory.

Lush ivy crawled over the palace walls, while thick layers of dead vines blanketed the walkways. After some time, Li Zhi caught sight of the pavilion standing in the center of a small lake.

The summer breeze stirred the purple gauze draped over the pavilion’s windows and doors, making them sway like ghostly hands beckoning her closer.

Circling the lake, Li Zhi found a small boat grounded on the shore.

She pushed it into the water, grabbed the oar, and began rowing toward the pavilion.

With only an hour to spare, she rowed with all her might. Despite her limited time, her determination and fitness paid off as the boat steadily glided toward the small island.

By the time a stick of incense would burn out, her oar finally dug into the muddy bank of the lakeside island.

Li Zhi secured the boat, stepped ashore, and made her way to the pavilion.

The wooden doors groaned loudly as she pushed them open, revealing the long-abandoned interior.

On the first floor, she found a main hall, a side room, and a tiny kitchen. She explored them quickly, even peeking into a rice jar, finding nothing but dust and cobwebs.

The rice jar was empty—so clean that not a single grain of rice remained. In the corner, the remnants of fish scales and bones, long since weathered, lay in the waste bucket.

Li Zhi stepped out of the kitchen and ascended to the second floor.

The upper floor appeared to be the living quarters of the master of the pavilion. The long corridor was stark and empty, devoid of flower vases, tea tables, or even paintings on the walls.

Two rooms stood at opposite ends of the corridor: a bedroom to the left, equipped with a dressing table, and a study to the right, furnished with a bookshelf and desk. Aside from these essential pieces of furniture, the space was entirely bare.

Standing in the room with traces of a young boy’s belongings, Li Zhi couldn’t help but recall Xie Lanxu’s bamboo grove in Mingyue Tower and his residence in the Prince Langya’s manor in the capital.

So this was his way of life—used to emptiness.

The entire second floor had only these two rooms. No side chambers. No trace of servants.

The pavilion was isolated, a lonely island on the lake. The boat she had found earlier was likely the only way in or out, used sparingly by those who lived here.

To search for the clues Crown Princess Wei might have left behind, Li Zhi started with the most suspicious location—her living quarters.

A strange odor lingered in the air of Crown Princess Wei’s bedroom, though Li Zhi couldn’t quite place its origin.

After searching the room thoroughly, she found little of note apart from scratch marks left by broken objects.

But one thing caught her attention—the bed.

While everything else in the pavilion appeared intact, the bed in Crown Princess Wei’s room was conspicuously bare. No bedding, no mattress, only the wooden frame and boards.

Approaching the bed, the strange smell grew stronger. On the floor beneath, a dark, irregular stain marked the wood as though something had been spilled.

Crouching beside the bed, Li Zhi peered underneath.

To her relief, she didn’t find anything particularly horrifying—only an overturned teacup lying forgotten in a corner.

Finding nothing in Crown Princess Wei’s room, Li Zhi returned to the first floor.

After circling the area again, she discovered a concealed stone staircase leading downward. Following the steps, she found herself in a cold, dimly lit underground chamber.

At first glance, it appeared to be an ice cellar, but the more Li Zhi looked around, the more disturbing details she noticed.

On the stone walls were iron rings, likely for restraining someone. The chamber contained not only a stove but also a toppled water bucket, tattooing tools, and a large wooden rack, stained with what seemed to be old, dried blood.

This was where Xie Lanxu had endured the so-called “exorcism rituals.”

An inexplicable wave of unease swept over Li Zhi.

Though she herself had not suffered much in life, she couldn’t escape the echoes of pain and torment that had been inflicted upon those close to her.

Standing there, she could almost see the shamans performing cruel rituals in the name of exorcism, torturing a helpless child.

Suppressing her discomfort, Li Zhi quickly searched the room and left.

It seemed unlikely that Crown Princess Wei would have hidden her secrets in a place where her son was tortured.

Emerging into the sunlight, Li Zhi let out a sigh of relief as the heat of the day chased away the chill clinging to her skin.

Where else could there be clues?

“I buried her beneath the willow tree outside the pavilion.”

Xie Lanxu’s words echoed in her mind.

Crown Princess Wei’s remains…

Guided by instinct, Li Zhi’s gaze drifted toward the willow trees around the pavilion.

Part of her reasoned that it was unlikely for Crown Princess Wei to have hidden anything underground. Another part of her, however, was compelled to search.

Among the sparse willow trees surrounding the pavilion, one caught her eye.

Near the edge of the lake stood a willow with an unmarked stone tablet at its base. The earth in front of the stone was slightly raised, forming a mound that appeared to have been deliberately shaped.

Li Zhi hesitated for a moment, standing before the stone. But the thought of leaving empty-handed won out.

After glancing around to ensure no one was watching, she picked up a piece of dry wood from nearby and began digging.

The loose soil formed a small hill beside the mound as the sun slowly sank toward the horizon.

Sweat dripped from Li Zhi’s forehead, her breathing grew heavy, and the piece of wood in her hand splintered repeatedly as she dug deeper.

Finally, she stopped.

Something emerged from the dirt.

Holding her breath, Li Zhi carefully swept away the remaining soil with the broken piece of wood—

A skull.

As she continued to uncover the bones, fragments of decayed clothing fell away, mixing with the dirt to reveal a complete human skeleton.

Though Li Zhi lacked formal knowledge of forensic analysis, even she could tell something was wrong. Bones were supposed to be white. These were dark, almost black.

Xie Lanxu had said that Crown Princess Wei took her own life.

But the discoloration of the bones suggested otherwise—this was the result of poison.

Li Zhi’s breathing became shallow, her chest tightening with a nameless dread. An inexplicable impulse drove her forward, like an unseen force guiding her hand.

Trembling, she brushed away the tattered fabric covering the skeleton’s legs.

The skeleton, though mostly intact and uniformly blackened, was missing one shinbone.

Scattered fragments of memory began to coalesce into a startling hypothesis in Li Zhi’s mind.

“Whenever it rained, her lame leg would ache unbearably. Even in agony, she refused to show weakness by letting anyone massage or tend to her. In those moments, everyone around her became her enemy—her captors, her tormentors.”

“How did the Crown Princess become lame?”

“She fell from her horse while fleeing south to escape pursuit. She’s been lame ever since.”

Was Crown Princess Wei truly crippled by a fall?

And where had the missing shinbone gone?

Li Zhi’s heart pounded as if she were on the verge of unraveling a long-buried truth.