Compared to his obedience and restraint before his father the Emperor, the Crown Prince was composed and sharp when facing Ye Han, a boy almost his own age.
After all, he was the true son of Emperor Jingxi, the heir groomed to become the next emperor.
He coldly administered punishments, extracting confessions from Ye Han.
From Ye Han’s words, he uncovered many things: the boy’s youthful experiences with A wu, their secret marriage, and the fate of A wu’s father and brothers. Â
As for Ye Han and A wu’s elopement this time, Ye Han finally told the truth.
Emperor Jingxi stood in the shadows of the dungeon, his eyelids lowered, his long, neat fingers slowly stroking a jade finger ring.
Ye Han crawled disgracefully before the Crown Prince: “This commoner now speaks only the truth. I was once a fisherman of the Eastern Sea and was betrothed to Ning A wu. Knowing she had become the Imperial Noble Consort, I grew resentful and schemed to extort money from her. During the last Daoist ceremony at the palace, I secretly sought out the Noble Consort and demanded she leave with me. Otherwise, I threatened to reveal all her past to the Emperor.”
The Crown Prince said sternly, “So under your threat, did Imperial Noble Consort leave the palace and follow you?”
Ye Han replied, “It wasn’t only because of that. I knew the Consort worried about her father and brothers, so I deliberately fabricated news about them. The Consort, concerned for her family, was deceived and agreed to come with me to find them.”
He paused, then continued, “I also insisted she bring some valuables, so it would be easier to search for her family.”
His eyes reddened as he whispered, “His Majesty is wise and all-seeing. A simple inquiry would reveal that I deliberately approached the Consort to deceive her. I cannot hide this and accept my punishment.”
The Crown Prince questioned Ye Han further, and Ye Han no longer denied anything, confessing fully.
From the dark corner, Emperor Jingxi stepped forward and silently stared at the boy crawling on the floor.
The boy’s legs were bloody from the punishment, he cowered in the straw, pitiful and disgraced.
Emperor Jingxi curled his lips and sneered before leaving the prison.
After a moment, the Crown Prince followed him out.
Emperor Jingxi slightly tilted his head and lowered his gaze, glancing at the Crown Prince from the corner of his eye: “What do you think?”
The Crown Prince frowned, “His initial testimony was absurd. Mother Consort is as weak as a newborn chick; how could she have forced him? What means could she have used? It’s clear he shifted all blame onto her just to save himself.” Â
Emperor Jingxi asked, “And then?”
The Crown Prince replied, “After much coercion, he finally spoke the truth. Mother Consort was forced—she is simple-hearted and only cares for her brothers lost at sea. Upon hearing news of them, she became distraught and was exploited by this despicable man. She had no choice.”
He should have been satisfied with this conclusion, but for some reason, something felt off.
Emperor Jingxi didn’t even glance at his son: “What do you think of Ye Han?”
The Crown Prince lowered his eyes, hesitating briefly before saying, “In my opinion, he is just a coward desperate to survive. At first, he tried to shirk responsibility and deny his guilt to save himself. But under torture, knowing resistance was futile, he had no choice but to confess.”
Emperor Jingxi sighed softly and smiled.
The Crown Prince was taken aback.
In that smile, he sensed an all-seeing awareness. Â
It made him feel uneasy deep within.
Emperor Jingxi said, “Are you afraid I’ll be angry with her?”
The Crown Prince exhaled slightly and murmured, “Father, this matter cannot entirely be blamed on her. She was just frightened… she…”
He faltered.
A wu had indeed run away with that man—that was a fact.
Emperor Jingxi looked deeply into his son’s eyes, sensing his worry and plea.
“Mo Yao, she knelt before me in tears, begging me to spare her childhood friend’s life.”
His voice was calm, as if recounting someone else’s story.
The Crown Prince silently watched his father.
Emperor Jingxi said, “That’s why I’ve been wondering—why?”
He sneered coldly, “But now I know.”
With that, he turned and left.
The Crown Prince stared after him, recalling every detail from the interrogations these past days, a cold knot tightening in his heart.
In truth, he had sensed something was wrong but had subconsciously ignored it.
Now, his father’s words made him realize he had been deceived.
Ye Han’s initial absurd and ridiculous denial was a ruse.
Under harsh interrogation, he revealed the so-called truth only to gain their trust and convince them of his confession. Â
He was using his last ounce of strength to shoulder more blame for A wu, trying to secure some hope for her survival.
That boy—about the same age as himself—could craft lies for her, tarnish himself, drop his stubborn pride, and become a trembling dog.
It was exactly such a boy who was worth A wu’s tears, her desperate kneeling, begging the emperor to spare his life.
***
Light and shadow.
A wu fiddled with the Nine Linked Rings, panting softly as she played with them for a long time.
When she looked up, she saw Emperor Jingxi.
He stood beside a white marble screen carved with immortal figures.
Nearby, a blue jade lamp cast a faint glow, tracing the sharp, narrow bridge of his nose.
Light and shadow mingled, casting a long shadow beneath his thin lips. Â
But his eyes were deep and dark, impenetrable.
A wu was puzzled and tried to look more closely, but he lowered his gaze and, wearing a light robe, approached her.
His tall figure suddenly stopped in front of her, towering so high she had to tilt her head to look up.
A wu hesitated to speak but no words came out.
Emperor Jingxi sensed it but calmly ignored it.
He gently stroked her hair, then took the Nine Linked Rings from her hands.
“Can’t untangle it?” Â
A wu lowered her head in disappointment, “A wu can’t.” Â
Emperor Jingxi chuckled softly and sat down, pulling A wu into his arms, “Zelang will teach you.” Â
A wu obediently nestled against him, letting his long fingers hold her hand as he patiently showed her how to twist the rings.
In just a short while, she solved the puzzle. Â
Emperor Jingxi tilted his head slightly, pressing his cheek against her pale skin.
He whispered, “Have you learned it?” Â
A wu replied, “I think I have.”
His voice encouraging: “Good, try it yourself?”
She tentatively tried again and this time truly unlocked it.
Emperor Jingxi praised, “A wu is indeed the smartest.”
A wu pursed her lips and smiled, her eyes sparkling with shifting light.
Emperor Jingxi lowered his gaze at her: “A wu, can you call me Zelang? Just once?”
A wu froze, then looked at him blankly but said nothing.
Emperor Jingxi asked, “Why? Don’t want to call me?”
A wu moved her lips, attempting to speak.
He patiently waited.
But in the end, she shook her head sadly without speaking.
Emperor Jingxi looked down at her, “You don’t want to, do you?” Â
A wu frowned, her expression confused.
She shook her head, “I don’t know… I don’t know.” Â
Emperor Jingxi said, “Then you don’t have to call me.”
He then brought some account books, “Look at these. Do you remember them?” Â
A wu looked at them with confusion.
Emperor Jingxi showed her the old methods she had learned long ago.
She frowned, completely at a loss—why insist on asking if she remembered?
Her head ached.
Ached terribly! Â
At that moment, Emperor Jingxi bent down and held her close.
“A wu, do you remember I once taught you this Account Book Method?” Â
Without thinking, A wu said, “I don’t remember!”
Emperor Jingxi grew even more patient and gently suggested, “Take another look.”
But A wu suddenly snatched the books away and threw them aside.
Then she shouted, “I don’t remember! I don’t remember! I remember nothing!” Â
Emperor Jingxi did not expect her to suddenly break down like this.
Covering her ears, she stomped her feet and cried out, “Don’t bother me! Go away! Stay away from me! I don’t want to know!”