Chapter Eighty-Three
"Afraid of what?" Consort Zhuang scoffed, turning her head away. "Ridiculous."
"Oh—" Fu Yixiao drew out the syllable, smiling meaningfully before stepping aside. "If you're not afraid, then please follow me inside to wait a while, Consort Zhuang. The other palace ladies should be arriving soon."
Compelled, Consort Zhuang followed Fu Yixiao inward. As she led the way, Yixiao asked casually, "Do you know why I chose Shu Chen Hall as the place for this interrogation, scheduled at night, and even invited all the palace consorts to attend?"
Pursing her lips, Consort Zhuang sneered, "What else can you do besides flaunt your authority in front of us?"
Yixiao smiled, lightly brushing the gauze curtains hanging along their path. "It's been over a month since Guyu passed, yet I still haven't uncovered the true culprit. So, I thought to borrow the earth's energy of Shu Chen Hall and the spiritual aura of the palace ladies to summon his spirit back—to let him tell me himself who killed him."
Consort Zhuang's heart skipped two beats, but she forced herself to remain composed. "What if one of the consorts is frightened? The consequences would be beyond your responsibility."
"All the ladies are blessed by the Lord of the Nation. Why would they fear a wandering soul?" Yixiao replied without turning back, striding steadily into the side hall where an altar had been set up.
The side hall was separated by only a few walls from the Cold Palace, where deposited empresses and consorts were confined. From the Cold Palace, mournful sobs could be heard clearly, yet Yixiao stood before the altar as if hearing nothing, her reverent and serene expression blending into the swirling incense smoke. She murmured prayers as the flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows across her profile in the rising wind.
Consort Zhuang stood stiffly to the side, while the maidservant who had entered with them trembled like a leaf in the wind. Suddenly, the sound of rolling carriage wheels and cheerful laughter came from outside. Consort Zhuang brightened instantly. "They're here! I'll go greet them." With that, she hurried toward the main hall, leaving Yixiao behind.
From a distance, Yixiao glanced back at her retreating figure, then slowly inserted the incense bundle into the burner with a faint smile. "Guyu, it's your turn now."
Rushing into the hall, Consort Zhuang abruptly halted, her eyes darting around uneasily as if searching for something.
The maidservant was puzzled until Consort Zhuang suddenly seized her arm, asking in alarm, "Did you hear that?"
Startled by her mistress's fear, the maid stammered, "I—I heard carriage sounds and laughter earlier, but I couldn't tell which consort it was. Now... I hear nothing."
Consort Zhuang loosened her grip slightly, only to tighten it again. "If they've arrived, why hasn't anyone come in yet?"
The maid swallowed hard, peering nervously around before forcing a smile. "Perhaps they're walking slowly..."
Her words cut off abruptly—because just as she spoke, a faint sound seemed to echo from somewhere in the hall. A sigh, or perhaps a low, labored breath, distant yet unnervingly close. Accompanying it was the slow, heavy tread of footsteps, each one striking like a blow to the heart.
Consort Zhuang was too terrified to speak, her fingers clutching her chest so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her eyes remained fixed on the pitch-black hall entrance, as though the moment she looked away, a monstrous figure would lunge out from the darkness."Your Highness... Shu Chen Hall has always been... unclean. Perhaps we should leave first..." The maid's voice trembled with tears. Consort Zhuang shuddered at her words, abandoning the maid as she frantically sprinted toward the hall's entrance.
The moonlight streaming through the door, reflected against the plain drapes, resembled undulating blue waves. In an instant, Consort Zhuang had reached the front hall, desperate to escape this eerie, shadowy place—this house of horrors!!
Her chaotic footsteps came to an abrupt halt. Within the moonlit drapery, a towering figure gradually materialized, stepping forward with slow, deliberate movements. Crimson blood dripped from his body onto the floor, staining the pristine Mourning Gauze a deep red wherever he passed...
Consort Zhuang wanted to scream, but no sound escaped her throat. She took one step back, then another, and another—until she collided with something. Turning in terror, she found that the maid who had been chasing her had somehow transformed into Consort Hui, her face streaked with blood and twisted into a grotesque smile, now mere inches away...
"Ah—!" Finally, she screamed, flailing her arms wildly. "Don't blame me... Don't kill me, no no no no—!"
Before the maid could recover from the shock of the figure emerging from the drapes, Consort Zhuang's bloodcurdling shriek sent her into sheer panic. Staggering like a drunkard, the maid stumbled toward the door, wailing hysterically, "It's the Lord of the Nation, it really is the Lord of the Nation... Don't come for me, it wasn't me, it wasn't me..."
Her incoherent cries echoed as she bolted through the door like a gust of wind—only to crash straight into someone's chest. Too petrified to even scream, her eyes rolled back as she collapsed limply backward.
A crowd stood outside—yes, a large one. Not just the palace beauties, but also the assembled court officials. At the forefront, the very person Consort Zhuang had collided with, was the Lord of the Nation himself—Feng Qishan.
Feng Qishan's icy gaze swept over the unconscious Consort Zhuang at his feet before slowly rising to fixate on the figure emerging from Shu Chen Hall. Under the moonlight, his face contorted slightly, his eyes glinting with murderous intent. "So this is what you call overseeing proceedings!"
Yixiao strode forward gracefully, coming to a stop before Feng Qishan. Tilting her chin up slightly, she smiled and said, "Earlier, Yixiao was inside and couldn't quite hear Consort Zhuang's testimony. I can only humbly ask the Lord of the Nation and the assembled consorts to pass judgment on this case."
Silence fell.
Those behind Feng Qishan exchanged uneasy glances, none daring to speak. Some of the more timid even began inching backward. Among the crowd, the Yu father and son looked ashen, their faces deathly pale.
After a long pause, Feng Qishan exhaled deeply and declared in a grave voice, "The Secret Forest Assault Case was orchestrated by the Yu clan, with Consort Zhuang acting as their informant. She is equally guilty. By my decree, Consort Zhuang is stripped of her rank and consigned to the Cold Palace, sentenced to three years of hard labor. The Yu clan, for conspiring to assassinate royalty, merits execution under the law. However, in consideration of Consort Zhuang's years of service and the Yu father and son's repeated contributions to Su Sha..." He paused, glaring venomously at Fu Yixiao. "The Yu clan, down to the third generation, is demoted to commoner status and barred from official appointments for ten years!"
Meeting his gaze, Fu Yixiao smiled faintly, kneeling to press her forehead to the ground in a formal bow. "The Lord of the Nation's wisdom is peerless," she proclaimed clearly. Only then did the crowd behind Feng Qishan snap out of their daze, hastily kneeling and shouting, "Long live the Lord of the Nation!" in disjointed unison.Feng Qishan swept his gaze over the crowd kneeling on the ground before turning to Feng Suige, who had just emerged from the hall with a beaming smile and was quickly approaching. Overcome with shame and anger, he flicked his sleeve and strode away without a word.
Yixiao, having heard the footsteps, had already risen and hurried back to Feng Suige’s side. Feng Suige’s slightly troubled eyes lingered on Feng Qishan’s retreating figure before softening like spring water as they settled on Yixiao’s spirited brow. "Go tell Guyu," he said gently.
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