Fan Changyu unfolded the letter. After reading its contents, her brows furrowed unconsciously.
The Eldest Princess had helped investigate the matter of the Sixteenth Prince, but he had been dead for many years. Jia Guifei had also followed the Late Emperor in death not long after the Sixteenth Prince passed away. The new emperor Qi Sheng's favored consorts had long since moved into their original palaces, and the palace servants had been replaced batch after batch. Finding someone who knew the truth from back then was exceedingly difficult.
After many days of secret investigation, the Eldest Princess discovered that an old palace maid on duty in the Cold Palace had once served in Jia Guifei's palace. However, she had supposedly gone mad seventeen years ago and was cast into the Cold Palace to fend for herself.
The Eldest Princess's people made contact with the mad palace maid over several days by bringing her food and clothing. They subtly sensed that the maid was only feigning madness, but she was very vigilant and refused to let her guard down.
When the Eldest Princess's people found an opportune moment to ask about the Sixteenth Prince, the palace maid became noticeably agitated. Feigning madness, she cried out, "Dead, they're all dead, and I'll die too... Wei Yan had an affair with an imperial consort, and anyone who knows must die..."
The Eldest Princess's people couldn't ask anything more before the matron in charge of the Cold Palace entered the courtyard.
Everyone in the palace was shrewd. For the Eldest Princess's people to suddenly start visiting the Cold Palace every few days, and even bring nice things for a mad palace maid, would arouse anyone's suspicion.
The Eldest Princess's people had given the matron of the Cold Palace a considerable bribe, lying that they had happened to pass by the Cold Palace and seen the mad maid eating a bowl of stinking, spoiled rice. Unable to bear the sight, they had offered some help.
Although the matron didn't press the matter, to be safe, the Eldest Princess's people dared not go to the Cold Palace to probe for information again for the time being.
Fan Changyu looked at Xie Zheng and said, "For now, we must first figure out which imperial consort Wei Yan had an affair with..."
Xie Zheng knew what she was suspecting. After the deaths of the Chengde Crown Prince and the Sixteenth Prince, Wei Yan had propped up the nineteenth prince, who had no foundation, to inherit the throne. The nineteenth prince's birth mother was the most suspicious.
He said, "It couldn't have been the young emperor's birth mother. She was just a palace maid who was favored by the Late Emperor in a drunken state. She died from complications after giving birth to him."
The biggest reason Wei Yan supported Qi Sheng's ascension was likely his youth and lack of maternal relatives, which made him easy to control.
That left only one breakthrough: the "mad" palace maid in the Cold Palace.
His eyes were as cold as snow. "I will personally sneak into the Cold Palace."
Fan Changyu recalled the ten-zhang-high city walls she had seen outside the Meridian Gate when she entered the palace for her investiture. "The imperial palace is heavily guarded. Entering without a decree on a normal day will likely be difficult. I heard from General Tang that there will be a victory banquet in the palace soon. Why don't we investigate the Cold Palace then? It would also avoid alerting the enemy."
Worried for Xie Zheng's safety, Xie Zhong also nodded. "The General of the Cloud Banner's considerations are thorough. Marquis, you should make some arrangements first and go on the day of the palace banquet."
Xie Zheng pondered for a moment, then slowly nodded. Without another word, he strode into the courtyard.
Fan Changyu watched his cold and solitary back, a hint of faint worry appearing in her eyes.
She had originally felt that the idea of Wei Yan single-handedly orchestrating the Jinzhou Massacre was debatable. But with the addition of his affair with an imperial consort, it seemed to be a certainty.
Before, she had thought Wei Yan was simply an enemy to Xie Zheng. But tonight's trip to the Xie family mausoleum made her realize that Xie Zheng's feelings toward Wei Yan were actually very complicated.
With every step deeper they dug into the truth of the past, it seemed like they were pushing a knife pressed against his heart an inch further in.
Though they had rushed about until the middle of the night, Fan Changyu and the others had not yet had dinner.
Xie Zhong ordered the kitchen to prepare a meal. Zhu Youchang, plagued by his old ailments, had already gone to sleep, so only Fan Changyu and Xie Zheng were left to eat. But Xie Zheng had not come out since returning to his room, only instructing his men to see to Fan Changyu's arrangements.
Xie Zhong had a servant deliver a separate portion to Xie Zheng's room, but it was sent back untouched.
Xie Zhong understood Xie Zheng's temperament. He sighed helplessly, dismissed the Blood-Clad Cavalryman who had delivered the food, and said to Fan Changyu, "General, please have your meal. Let His Lordship have some time alone."
Fan Changyu thought of the lonely figure of Xie Zheng she had seen standing before General Xie and his wife's tomb when she had rushed to the mausoleum. "I'll take it to him," she said.
A flash of surprise crossed Xie Zhong's eyes, but when he thought of the many special ways Xie Zheng treated her, a relieved smile appeared on his face. "Then I'll have to trouble you, General."
Faced with Xie Zhong's all-knowing gaze, Fan Changyu could only pick up the meal on the tray and quickly ask where Xie Zheng's room was to hide her embarrassment.
The moon was bright and the stars were few. The lanterns under the eaves cast bamboo shadows on the door and stone steps.
Fan Changyu looked at the room, which glowed with a warm light. Holding the carved wooden tray with one hand, she raised the other and knocked on the door.
From a distance inside the room came Xie Zheng's cold and impatient voice. "I said I don't need dinner. Leave!"
"It's me," Fan Changyu said.
The room was quiet for a long while before that clear, low, and raspy voice sounded again. "The door isn't bolted."
Fan Changyu pushed the door open. At first glance, she didn't see anyone in the outer room, only the faint sound of water coming from the clean room. She had intended to come over and offer Xie Zheng a word or two of comfort, but now she suddenly felt a little awkward. With her back to the clean room, she said, "I've put the food on the table for you. Remember to eat after you're done washing up."
No further sound came from the clean room, not even the sound of water.
Fan Changyu was puzzled and worried that something might have happened to Xie Zheng. She had no choice but to call out again, "Xie Zheng?"
Still no answer.
Fan Changyu turned to glare in that direction. "If you don't answer, I'm going to get someone to come in and check on you."
Finally, a low, mellow, and slightly hoarse voice came from within. "Help me pass in the change of clothes by the bed."
A light pink blush crept up Fan Changyu's ears. She turned away. "I'll go get Uncle Zhong to bring them to you."
A loud splash came from the clean room, and the person inside said, "Forget it. I'll get them myself."
This was immediately followed by a dull thud, then the sound of pottery shattering. Even through the cloth curtain, Fan Changyu could smell liquor.
Why would there be liquor in the clean room?
Worried that Xie Zheng was drunk and had slipped while getting out of the bath, and afraid he might get cut by the porcelain shards, Fan Changyu disregarded everything else and quickly lifted the curtain to enter. "Are you alright?"
When she saw the scene inside, Fan Changyu suddenly felt as if she didn't know where to put her hands and feet.
The weather had turned cold, and the entire clean room was filled with a hazy mist. Xie Zheng was leaning against the edge of the bathtub, his handsome face sullen and tinged with a slight drunkenness. A red mark was on his shoulder and back where he had knocked himself. His fine brows were knitted in slight annoyance; he had clearly hit the edge of the tub when he fell.
A liquor jar was shattered outside the tub. Judging by the amount spilled, Xie Zheng must have drunk most of it. Beside it lay another empty, overturned jar.
He had actually drunk two jars of liquor, and from the smell, it was strong liquor. No wonder he looked a little drunk.
Seeing that he wasn't injured, Fan Changyu's heart settled, but the way he looked... was far too alluring.
His half-tied hair was mostly soaked, clinging to his shoulders and back where the curves of his muscles were prominent. It was a combination of handsome beauty and power, easily bringing to mind a beast of the jungle—dangerous and agile.
His long lashes were like fans, dotted with tiny water droplets. Near his neck, on his shoulder, was the bite mark she had left before she went out. It suddenly gave the illusion that this beautiful, perverse beast could be tamed.
Even knowing it was inappropriate, Fan Changyu could feel the heat rushing to her face. She quickly turned her back. "I... I'll go get Uncle Zhong..."
She had just taken a step when a low, hoarse voice sounded from behind her. "No need."
Xie Zheng pressed his temples, which were throbbing faintly. The impatience on his face intensified. Blessed with such a fine appearance, even his angry expression was exceedingly handsome. He said, "I can do it myself."
The water rippled. He pushed himself up forcefully, bracing against the edge of the tub, but his figure was clearly unsteady. He nearly fell again, but fortunately, Fan Changyu heard the commotion and caught him in time.
Feeling the weight of most of his body pressing down on her, Fan Changyu gritted her teeth in frustration. "I've never seen anyone as stubborn as you!"
Because he was unclothed, Fan Changyu kept her head raised as much as possible, not daring to let her eyes wander.
A drop of water from the damp strands of hair on his forehead fell onto her neck. The cool touch made her shrink back instinctively.
Fan Changyu remembered his clothes were still outside. She fumbled to press down on his shoulders, wanting to push him back into the tub first. "You wait in here. I'll go get you some clean clothes."
The half-drunk man lowered his head slightly, staring at her red lips as they opened and closed. It was unclear if he had heard what she said. Just as she was about to turn and leave again, he pulled her into his arms.
The water on his body soaked through her clothes. Fan Changyu's heart leaped into her throat in an instant, but he only buried his head in the crook of her shoulder. After a long moment, he said hoarsely, "A Yu, you're all I have left."
This was the first time anyone had ever called her that. The overly intimate name left Fan Changyu at a loss for how to respond.
They were too close, and his body was scorching hot. Fan Changyu felt a hot, tingling numbness spread from the side of her neck to half her ear. A strange feeling rose in her heart, as if she were stepping on clouds, light and adrift.
Fan Changyu remained stiff for a long while before she reached out to pat his back reassuringly. "I've always been here."
The skin of his back under her palm was not smooth; she could clearly feel the slight curve of raised scars.
Remembering the one hundred and eight lashes Xie Zhong had told her he had once received, Fan Changyu's eyes flickered. Her tone took on a coaxing quality. "Sit down. I'll help you wash your back."
This was something Fan Changyu would never have offered on a normal day. Xie Zheng seemed about to obediently sit down. The alcohol had slowed his thoughts. The corners of his eyes were tinged with red, and his usually cold face even held a bewitching charm. But perhaps some lingering shred of sobriety made him remember something. He grabbed Fan Changyu's hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. "Next time," he said.
Then, he gave his head, which was stinging from the alcohol, a slight shake. He tried to stand up on his own by bracing against the edge of the tub, but Fan Changyu forcefully pressed down on his shoulders. She had already moved behind him and seen his back, which, though the scabs had fallen off, was still a crisscrossing mess of scars.
Fan Changyu froze.
Seeing those twisted, overlapping whip marks with her own eyes, she finally understood what Xie Zhong had meant by "not a single patch of good skin."
She had applied medicine to his back before. Back then, he was as wretched as a stray dog on the street, and the wounds on his body were not as hideous and dense as they were now. Fan Changyu could hardly imagine what this body full of injuries had looked like when it was bloody and raw.
Her heart ached fiercely.
The knife wound that slashed across his entire back was from when he had cut himself to consecrate his blade with blood. It had split open countless times, and the scar was especially wide, ferocious, and terrifying.
When Fan Changyu's fingertips traced over it, they trembled uncontrollably.
Her throat felt tight. She asked him in a hoarse voice, "How long did you plan to hide all these injuries from me?"
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