Chapter 321: Who Is He Really?

Chapter 321: Who Exactly Is He?

If he truly dares to order the massacre of Yicheng, then His Majesty may as well abdicate.

"This is troublesome," Prince Duan said with surface-level concern, utterly insincere.

"I'll draft a memorial at once to report this matter to His Majesty. Before the floods wreak havoc, it will be submitted to the court alongside Director Yan's report, supporting each other's claims."

"If His Majesty has any inquiries, I will naturally shoulder some of the blame for Director Yan to ease his worries."

The bewildered Director Yan was profusely grateful.

Prince Duan was indeed benevolent.

"This humble official thanks Your Highness for your great kindness."

Director Yan was genuinely afraid that the Emperor would vent his anger on him, wiping out his entire family line in a fit of rage.

Now, with Prince Duan shielding him, he had essentially been spared his life.

Prince Duan waved his hand dismissively. "This concerns heaven's punishment—it has nothing to do with human effort."

"Director Yan is also an innocent party."

Hearing the words "heaven's punishment," Director Yan's heart lurched.

Was His Highness Prince Duan dismissively labeling Master Xuanxi's death as such?

He couldn't help but feel that he had boarded a treasonous venture—where it's succeed or die.

Recalling the disordered heavenly signs, a chill ran down his spine, spreading rapidly through his entire body.

Was it possible that Prince Duan intended to rebel and seize the throne?

Suddenly, Director Yan couldn't stop trembling.

"Director Yan, are you cold?" Prince Duan asked, frowning as he looked out at the pouring rain outside the window. He removed his raincoat and draped it over a nearby clothes rack.

It was mid-May, the height of summer.

Even with the heavy rain, the air shouldn't be chilly enough for this.

"My old bones can't take it," Director Yan muttered, shaking his head. "I must have caught a chill. This humble official will return to his quarters and prepare a tonic to drink."

"My apologies," Prince Duan said, stepping aside to let him pass.

Director Yan managed a strained smile before hastily retreating.

All he wanted was to play the harmless fraud, free from any involvement in court intrigues.

How had the previous Director of the Imperial Observatory died?

Wasn't it because he forgot his place—a mere Daoist practitioner foolishly trying to dip his hands in the schemes of power players?

He had learned his lesson: turn a blind eye and deaf ear, ask nothing.

In the end, regardless of who won the throne, he'd still be the same useless official.

Prince Duan instructed his accompanying guards to find vacant rooms to rest, while he himself repeatedly observed the utterly disfigured body of Master Xuanxi, feeling a surge of spiteful glee deep inside.

If their spirits were watching, the Xie family could take some solace.

Indeed, even Empress Dowager Xie, long residing in Changning Palace, would grin from ear to ear upon hearing the news.

As for his father, the emperor—so what if he throws a fit?

His father fancied himself the actual Dragon Emperor—a little rage won’t scorch his imperial scales.

After a long while, Prince Duan finally looked away, satisfied, and turned to leave.

After changing into a fresh change of clothes, he knocked on Lu Mingchao’s door.

Lu Mingchao: …The hell?

Seriously, does the imperial family have some family curse?

Always fond of doing things like sharing a room with a married woman at godawful hours.

Lu Mingchao sighed, lit all the candles in the room, gave the wall a warning knock with a small hammer, and then opened the door.

Prince Duan and Lu Yao stood side by side.

One gentle and refined, the other ice-prince handsome.

Lu Yao’s raven hair was loosely tied with a dark gray ribbon. The night breeze stirred, making it hard to distinguish between the ribbon and his fluttering strands.

Half-asleep, he covered a yawn with his hand and was the first to step inside, casually choosing a chair to sit in.

His elbow rested on the wooden armrest, his palm propping up his cheek.

Underneath that cool exterior, there was now a touch of weariness and laziness.

Lu Yao made it clear—he was truly exhausted.

During his time in Wanxing, his days were spent digging ditches, carrying soil and stones, while at night he had to haul bags of grain—conjured up by Mingchao—to stockpile in warehouses on higher ground. During whatever breathers he could steal, he still had to write letters to Headmaster Yu, detailing his observations and reflections.

He felt like a mule, hitched to a grindstone without rest.

Even mules get tired, okay?

Prince Duan sat on the wooden chair beside Lu Yao, the sharp scent of incense faintly permeating the air.

Lu Yao mustered some alertness, stealing a few inconspicuous glances at Prince Duan. Must be nice being royalty—even in such circumstances, his robes were still scented.

Outside the window, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, raindrops hammering down against the tiles and panes.

At times like this, even the sharpest ears couldn’t make out whispered plans inside the room.

"How did you do it?" Prince Duan blurted out, unable to suppress his curiosity.

Lu Mingchao took a sip of water from her cup, playing dumb with a natural expression. *Do what now?*

Lu Mingchao gently set down her teacup and frowned, "Your Highness, it truly wasn't me."

"After receiving Your Highness's message, I did plan to deal with Master Xuanxi as ordered."

"I intended to use the rising floodwaters to do the deed, but before the right moment arrived, Master Xuanxi's house was struck by lightning."

"Strangely enough, the lightning appeared targeted—it only struck Master Xuanxi's house."

"In such a situation, no one dared to rush in to save him."

"By the time the thunder subsided, Master Xuanxi had already been badly crushed by the fallen beams."

"Your Highness, Master Xuanxi was struck by lightning twice, both times in plain sight of everyone."

Prince Duan was skeptical, his suspicious gaze sweeping over Lu Mingchao repeatedly.

"Truly not you?"

"Truly not me."

"I thought this might be a surprise you prepared for me."

Lu Mingchao gave a half-hearted smile and retorted irritably, "If I had the ability to summon lightning at will, I would have zapped Lu Minghui dead the day she was acknowledged by the family."

Prince Duan thought this over and saw the logic, dispelling his doubts. He said quietly, "Perhaps it truly was the heavens' will."

Lu Mingchao lowered her eyes slightly, hiding the glint in her eyes.

Her fingertips played with the rim of the cup on the table as she asked casually, "Why does Your Highness hate Master Xuanxi so much?"

*Is it also because he urged the Emperor to kill his nephew and seize the throne?*

Prince Duan's fingers flexed inside his sleeves. He looked up and countered, "And you?"

"Why do *you* hate him?"

This was also a test.

Lu Mingchao kept her cool and answered without hesitation, "Because he wanted to 'enlighten' me."

"I am rooted in this world—I have parents, siblings, a husband, children, and friends. Yet that old bald priest always insisted I had a karmic bond with Buddhism and urged me to take monastic vows."

"And Your Highness's reason?"

Prince Duan said each word with icy precision, "He deserved to die."

"Lu Mingchao, before coming here, I visited the Empress Dowager at Changning Palace. Her Majesty gave me the prayer beads she'd kept for years."

Lu Mingchao replied mildly, "Your Highness is dutiful and kind."

"That's it?" Prince Duan looked surprised.

Lu Mingchao seemed puzzled, "What else?"

"Does Your Highness require a flood of compliments?"

"What I mean is—who exactly is Xie Sui?" Prince Duan got right to it.

"A Yan's elder brother," Lu Mingchao said matter-of-factly.

Prince Duan fixed her with an intense stare. "Before leaving the capital, I sneaked into Emperor Jingxiang's mausoleum through a hidden passage left by craftsmen and opened Grand Director Shu's coffin."

"Grand Director Shu's coffin was empty."

*“I will take her into the palace.”*