Chapter Forty-Five: Interrogation

Xue Fanzhi watched as Xue Jiaoyue and the other girl approached, quickly leading her maids to hide among the flowers. Only after the pair had passed did she emerge. Since she was accompanied by maids from the Xue family—especially those serving the old madam—she turned and warned them sternly, “If any of you dare breathe a word about what happened today, I’ll have Grandmother sell you off!” She was currently in favor with the old madam; who would risk courting her displeasure? The two maids obediently replied, “Yes, miss, we wouldn’t dare speak!” Satisfied, Xue Fanzhi gave a soft grunt and led them onward.

As they neared the place where she had just experienced her recent unpleasantness, Xue Fanzhi halted. The lanterns ahead glowed even brighter than before, and at the gate stood guards clad in the uniforms of imperial bodyguards. The two at the front wore armor, their imposing presence unmistakable. Xue Fanzhi, having spent time in the palace, recognized them at once—they were the Golden Crow Guards, the emperor’s personal protectors. The emperor himself was here. She had no idea whether King Shou was alive or dead, nor if the Xue family would be implicated. Now that Xue Jiaoyue had come out, perhaps things were not so dire after all.

Just as Xue Fanzhi hesitated, unsure whether to advance or retreat, a shadowy figure suddenly appeared before her, making her start. The newcomer spoke, “Greetings, Eighth Miss. This is not a place for you tonight. Please return home in peace; there’s nothing further you need concern yourself with.”

Xue Fanzhi looked closely and recognized the man; she had seen him at the Xue residence before. Wasn’t he one of Xiao Yi’s personal guards? Even if this guard had never visited the Xue family, in her previous life she had known him—he was Xiao Yi’s loyal retainer, called Xiao Yi, utterly devoted to his master, one could even say his lapdog.

In her past life, Xue Fanzhi’s relationship with Xiao Yi had been neither good nor bad; Xiao Yi was simply a functionary, carrying out no tasks save those commanded by Xiao Yi. “Is your master inside? What is King Shou’s current condition?” Xue Fanzhi asked.

Xiao Yi had been instructed by Xiao Yi to answer truthfully any questions posed by the Eighth Miss, and to treat her with the utmost respect. After all, wasn’t it because his master had finally developed feelings for a woman? This was the first time since childhood! Xiao Yi replied respectfully, “King Shou is still unconscious. The emperor has arrived, but my master is handling things inside. Please be at ease, my lady. With my master present, you may as well pretend that none of this ever happened.”

Was it truly so formidable? Xue Fanzhi harbored a secret: she had seen Xiao Yi kill King Shou. Now that King Shou was not dead, he would certainly not be fooled. If he awoke, he would surely say that Xiao Yi had tried to kill him—committing treason and attempting to murder his own uncle, a grave crime indeed.

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Accompanying the emperor to see King Shou was the Eighth Prince, Xiao Miao. Compared to the crown prince, Xiao Miao’s mother, Consort Xu, was the emperor’s favorite, making him the most favored son after the crown prince. When word of King Shou’s mishap reached them, and learning that Xiao Yi had been present, Xiao Miao had come along. The throne was coveted by all; to attain it meant eliminating one’s brothers.

The crown prince’s position was relatively secure for the moment thanks to the empress. Aside from the crown prince, Xiao Miao’s greatest annoyance was this Ninth Brother. Normally unassuming, people like him were the most dangerous. Of course, Xiao Miao would never admit that his dislike stemmed from how, at the age of ten, while playing with his cousins, his favorite little cousin declared that Xiao Yi was the most handsome—his jealousy was certainly not sparked by childish affections.

Xiao Yi had been present, yet his uncle was stabbed; Xiao Miao thought, if only he could associate this brother with the assassination, Xiao Yi would be doomed. King Shou, gravely wounded, had been taken to a guest chamber for the imperial physicians’ treatment. In the main hall remained only the witnesses.

Xiao Miao first questioned King Shou’s attendants: “Did you really see the assassin clearly? Was it someone familiar—have you seen him in the palace or at any prince’s residence?” The attendants shook their heads in haste. “It was an unfamiliar face, never seen in the palace.”

“Not a palace man, yet he dared to swagger into the Xie family’s home and, after striking, managed to escape!” Xiao Miao looked incredulously at Xiao Yi. “Ninth Brother, you were supposed to protect your uncle. What exactly happened? The force behind those sleeve arrows shouldn’t have been enough to injure him so badly!”

Xiao Yi smiled. “If that were so, why is Uncle still unconscious?”

Xiao Miao, momentarily stunned, grew angry. “That’s exactly why I’m asking you!”

Xiao Yi replied, “Then my answer is simple. You saw it yourself—he’s injured and unconscious, isn’t he?”

“You—” Xiao Miao seethed, realizing just how dangerous this brother was—far too adept at arguing. He pressed on with his questions to the attendants: “You claim the Ninth Prince sent a beauty to Uncle. Wasn’t that woman in league with the assassin? Wasn’t she?”

But how could the attendants know? With the emperor himself present and seemingly favoring the Eighth Prince—after all, he hadn’t interrupted Xiao Miao’s questioning, a display of respect rarely seen even among the wealthiest families—the attendants dared not fabricate anything. They simply told the truth.

Their conclusion was: “We didn’t see any interaction between the presented woman and the assassin. It was only after the woman was beaten down that the Ninth Prince entered.”

Xiao Miao snorted, feeling these people were all lying. “Just because you alone didn’t see any interaction, does that mean there wasn’t any?”

The attendants were at a loss for words.

Xiao Miao pressed further: “Before the assassin escaped, did the Ninth Prince give him any instructions? With so many people surrounding him, how could he escape unless someone let him go on purpose?!”

The attendant truly didn’t know; but thinking carefully, the assassin had been quite far from King Shou at the time—could he really have wounded him from such a distance with a single shot? And with so many pursuing the assassin, how had he managed to get away?

The attendant’s gaze toward Xiao Yi became complicated, but seeing the Ninth Prince standing quietly to the side as his father admonished him—showing no sign of involvement with the assassin—he kept his doubts to himself.