Chapter Thirty-Seven: Awareness

Now, all that King Pingyi had to do was wait until the mourning period at the Prime Minister’s residence concluded, and then he could present himself to Feng Yewu and take his leave. After all, even if he had no involvement, the Prime Minister’s daughter had been betrothed to him by imperial decree. The wedding had not even taken place, and now the bride was dead in her family home. If he were to leave before the funeral rites were completed, tongues would wag, and now was not the time for confrontation.

“Last night, while I was watching the Prime Minister’s residence, I discovered someone else secretly investigating the cause of the Prime Minister’s daughter’s death,” Zhao Xiyan reported, casting a sidelong glance at King Pingyi, her brow furrowing slightly as she recounted her encounter with Lu Jue. At the time, Lu Jue had concealed his face and worn dark clothing for night travel, so Zhao Xiyan could not confirm his identity.

“Oh? Could it be someone the Prime Minister sent to look into it?” King Pingyi grew more alert at this.

“I exchanged a few blows with him last night. I am certain he does not belong to the Prime Minister’s household—he too wore night clothing,” Zhao Xiyan said, unable to vouch for Lu Jue’s identity but reporting the situation as it was. After all, if the Prime Minister sent someone to investigate, why would they conceal themselves in such a clandestine way?

“Your Highness, please look,” Zhao Xiyan said, producing a silver needle that Lu Jue had used and offering it to King Pingyi.

“This needle?” King Pingyi examined it, puzzled.

“This needle belonged to that man. Does Your Highness recognize its origin?” Zhao Xiyan studied the needle as well; it was no ordinary object. Though small, it was exquisitely crafted—not the sort of thing found in any common clinic.

“This needle…” King Pingyi narrowed his eyes, clearly recognizing it. “This is a palace item. In the imperial medical bureau, these were the standard silver needles.”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xiyan suddenly understood. She had quietly checked the capital’s clinics after acquiring the needle, but none had anything like it. Now that King Pingyi had revealed its origin, it was all clear.

The imperial palace was not a place she, Zhao Xiyan, could enter at will. Though she had entered before, it was only under the guise of an official event when the palace was open to outsiders. Now, with no such occasion, how could a mere wanderer like her hope to enter again?

Since ancient times, the palace had been the very heart of the nation. Its high walls and vigilant guards were built with the utmost care—one could not simply scale them with skilled lightness of foot. Every time Lu Jue left the palace, he had to do so by presenting his identity, or with an order from Feng Yewu, before changing into night clothing. Upon returning, he would change back before re-entering.

“It seems His Majesty has also sent someone to investigate,” Zhao Xiyan murmured. As someone from the martial world, she could not have guessed more. Now, knowing Feng Yewu was personally looking into the poisoning, she grew all the more uneasy.

King Pingyi glanced at the visibly anxious Feng Yewu and let out a cold laugh. “Hmph, she wants to investigate this matter? It will not be easy.”

Zhao Xiyan watched as King Pingyi slowly picked up a scroll from the desk, looking perfectly composed. “This was within my expectations,” he said, his eyes narrowing with a hint of amusement. “If Feng Yewu did not pursue the matter, I would be uneasy. Now, knowing her methods, I am at ease.”

After all, when this incident occurred, suspicion would naturally fall on him first. He had wondered what means Feng Yewu would employ; now that she had made her move, her hand was revealed.

Within the capital, the death of the Prime Minister’s daughter had sent shockwaves through the political landscape. Not only did Feng Yewu and King Pingyi eye each other with suspicion, the other princes were likewise speculating and watching. For them, Feng Yewu’s reaction to this affair was of vital importance. Anyone with discerning eyes could see the shadow of King Pingyi behind this event. Had Feng Yewu not possessed the memories of her previous life, perhaps none would have felt such apprehension.

But Feng Yewu’s conduct now was utterly changed—her handling of state affairs repeatedly defying the calculations of the princes. In such times, every move she made was of the utmost consequence.

Though Feng Yewu had clearly gained the upper hand in recent days, the more she pressed on, the less delighted she felt. Once she had been naïve and ignorant; now, living through it again, she discovered that beneath her former ignorance, treacherous currents had always been surging.

“Your Majesty, King Pingyi seeks an audience.”

Feng Yewu was reviewing memorials in the imperial study when Eunuch Mingde entered quietly to announce King Pingyi’s arrival. Feng Yewu was surprised; this was a moment of high tension. Though nothing had been spoken openly, her standoff with King Pingyi was already poised for confrontation. For him to seek her out now could only mean he had ulterior motives.

“Admit him.”

Though puzzled, Feng Yewu’s expression remained unchanged, her voice cold as she gave the order. Mingde withdrew to carry it out.

Moments later, King Pingyi entered, his expression severe. “Your Majesty,” he announced, bowing formally but otherwise unmoved.

“Rise, King Pingyi. To what do I owe this visit?” Feng Yewu asked, her face revealing nothing though displeasure simmered beneath the surface at his lack of respect.

“Your Majesty, regarding the imperial betrothal announced at the banquet, I have yet to properly give thanks. Now that the engagement is null, I have come to report this to Your Majesty,” King Pingyi replied, his eyes brimming with pride. Though he did not speak plainly, the implication was clear: he alluded directly to the murder of the Prime Minister’s daughter.

Hearing this, Feng Yewu lifted her head from the memorial she had been reading, understanding at last. King Pingyi had come to flaunt his position.

The death of the Prime Minister’s daughter had become a touchstone for every prince in the realm. If she chose to endure in silence, from this day forward, the princes would become ever more brazen, her own ministers would lose faith in her. King Pingyi’s visit was not only intended for her, but also for the many who watched from the shadows.

Feng Yewu gazed at him in silence for a moment, then allowed herself a faint, chilly smile. The speed with which her attitude changed caught King Pingyi off guard. He had expected her anger or outrage, and was prepared to respect her for it; but now, as Feng Yewu smiled, he found himself strangely on the back foot.