PCA Chapter 140

A flash of lightning split the sky outside the window, illuminating that sinister face. Though he was smiling, it inexplicably sent chills through one’s heart, making one instinctively want to back away.

 

Su Cen dug his fingertips deep into his flesh to suppress his body’s natural reaction. He had always known Song Fan was near the temporary palace, but never imagined this person would dare to enter so brazenly and appear before him like this.

 

“It’s been a long time, Lord Su,” Song Fan raised his lips in a smile at Su Cen. “Have you missed me?”

 

Su Cen squeezed his fingers tightly, forcing himself to calm down. From past encounters, he had learned that Song Fan became more pleased the more fear one showed. So he had to maintain a fearless demeanor—at least on the surface.

 

After composing himself, Su Cen raised cold eyes, glanced at Song Fan, then crouched down again, continuing to handle the matter at hand unhurriedly.

 

Song Fan made a light “tsk” sound. This reaction was somewhat unexpected. Leaning lightly against the doorframe with his arms crossed, he said: “Is this how Lord Su treats an old friend who’s come to visit?”

 

Su Cen carefully transferred the thin paper from the floor to the desk, then looked up and said to the servant beside him: “Give me the candle.”

 

A Chun’s gaze was still fixed on this mysterious uninvited visitor. He was stunned for a moment before realizing Su Cen was calling him, and hurriedly handed over the candle.

 

Song Fan pouted, his expression quite frustrated. He had originally wanted to see the usually cold and proud Lord Su pale with fear, but this person showed only a brief moment of surprise before quickly composing himself.

 

How boring.

 

Song Fan straightened up, walked forward, casually sat on the desk, and leaned down toward Su Cen’s face. “What’s this?”

 

Su Cen rarely responded: “Evidence of your crimes.”

 

Song Fan lowered his head and laughed lightly, raising his slightly narrowed peach blossom eyes to look innocently at Su Cen: “What have I done now?”

 

Su Cen ignored him again. After drying the paper about eighty percent, he handed it to A Chun with instructions: “Take this back to my room.”

 

Only after giving these instructions did Su Cen finally raise his head to look directly at Song Fan. “Then let’s carefully go through your list of crimes.”

 

A Chun took the paper and was about to leave when he felt a hand gently tugging at his clothes under the table. Looking down, he saw that hand with pale knuckles lightly pulling his clothes four times.

 

Prince Ning was the fourth son, so this meant he should go out and call for help.

 

A Chun furtively glanced at Song Fan, saw that he was engrossed in conversation with his master and hadn’t noticed their small movements, then lowered his head and hurriedly walked toward the door.

 

Near the door, as the conversation continued, A Chun breathed a slight sigh of relief. Just as his hand touched the door, he suddenly felt a coldness in his chest. Looking down, he saw a sword that had somehow been unsheathed, piercing through his chest from the front.

 

The sound of flesh being pierced was real and cruel. Even before blood appeared, the person had already collapsed to the ground.

 

Su Cen suddenly stood up, watching A Chun gasping like a fish out of water, his gaze gradually dispersing, twitching and convulsing, until he gradually became still.

 

The maintained facade finally collapsed, and Su Cen cried out hysterically: “Why did you kill him?!”

 

“Why did I kill him?” Song Fan frowned thoughtfully, then raised his lips in a smile. “He was secretly conspiring with you behind my back. Doesn’t he deserve to die?”

 

He saw it! Su Cen bit his lower lip hard. Song Fan had clearly seen it but didn’t react, waiting until the person reached the door before striking, just to see this moment of Su Cen’s vulnerability!

 

Song Fan reached out to grip Su Cen’s hand, which was trembling slightly from excessive tension, and smiled gently: “You’re still so likable with this demeanor.”

 

Half of Su Cen’s body went numb. He pulled hard several times, but Song Fan, who looked gentle and weak, actually had astonishing arm strength. His hand was like a branding iron stuck to Su Cen’s wrist, pulling at his skin and flesh, not moving a bit.

 

“Let go!” Su Cen looked up angrily.

 

Seeing that Song Fan was unmoved, Su Cen grabbed a brush pen from the table and stabbed downward with all his might.

 

Song Fan withdrew his hand at the critical moment, and when the pen stopped, it was only a hair’s breadth away from Su Cen’s own hand.

 

“How fierce.” Song Fan rubbed his hands with lingering fear, narrowing his eyes to examine the person before him. Just now, Su Cen’s expression was identical to that day in Marquis Ding’an’s mansion when he held a dagger to his heart and said word by word: “Whoever loses next will get a one-inch stake in their chest.”

 

Now this person had already composed himself, lowering his head to rub his wrist, a red ring appearing on his pale wrist.

 

Between the two of them, it was hard to say who was the real madman.

 

Outside the window, lightning flashed and thunder boomed. The howling wind carried torrential rain, beating against the precarious window. For a moment, Su Cen actually hoped the storm would grow stronger, blow open the window, even blow away the roof—being with Song Fan, he couldn’t breathe.

 

Fortunately, Song Fan didn’t press further. Raising an eyebrow, he looked at Su Cen: “Didn’t Lord Su want to charge me with crimes? I’m all ears.” He pointed a finger at A Chun behind him. “This one asked for death, it doesn’t count.”

 

Su Cen looked at A Chun’s eyes, which couldn’t close in death, and in his heart, he had already marked this debt against Song Fan.

 

Song Fan looked at Su Cen with a playful smile: “So, who lied?”

 

Su Cen raised his eyes to look at Song Fan and calmly said: “No one lied.”

 

Song Fan snorted with laughter, clearly disagreeing.

 

Su Cen was unconcerned and continued: “Huang Ting did allocate funds for river repairs, and Liang Fang indeed didn’t receive those five hundred thousand taels. Furthermore, the one hundred thousand taels Liang Fang allocated also never reached the hands of the Cao Village people. A full six hundred thousand taels actually went into your pocket.” Su Cen paused. “You’re from the Secret Door, aren’t you?”

 

“Oh?” Song Fan raised his eyebrows with interest. Though Su Cen’s words were framed as a question, his tone left no doubt. Song Fan couldn’t help but smile: “What makes you say that?”

 

“Impersonating the son of a marquis, kidnapping Huang Wan’er, deceiving Abbot Huikong, threatening Huang Ting to allocate funds, and then collaborating with Uncle Cao to intercept the river repair funds, leading to the Xuzhou flood breach and tens of thousands of people becoming homeless—these aren’t things one person could accomplish alone. There must be a powerful organization behind you, and I can’t think of any other than the Secret Door.”

 

“And how did you know I collaborated with Uncle Cao?” Song Fan’s peach blossom eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a murderous glint. “Did those two little friends tell you?”

 

Su Cen shook his head: “They only said that Liang Fang killed someone.”

 

“If Liang Fang killed someone, why do you suspect Uncle Cao?”

 

“Liang Fang did kill someone,” Su Cen paused, “but the one working with you is Uncle Cao. Those present that day, besides you, Liang Fang, and that yamen runner, included Uncle Cao, right?”

 

Song Fan didn’t speak, which was as good as tacit agreement.

 

Su Cen continued: “I don’t know how you lured Lord Liang to the forest, but if I’m not mistaken, you must have bribed that yamen runner and used him to threaten Liang Fang into helping you. But you didn’t anticipate that Lord Liang would be so skilled in martial arts, killing that runner with a single palm strike, a process that was witnessed by Huzi and Er Ya.”

 

“I said we should have killed those two little brats,” Song Fan said viciously. “Uncle Cao didn’t understand the principle of eliminating future troubles. He deserved to fall into your hands.”

 

“You only know about cutting the grass and eliminating the roots, but don’t understand the affection one has for children,” Su Cen laughed coldly. “Huzi and Er Ya never betrayed Uncle Cao, and Uncle Cao never thought about killing them out of fear of exposing his identity. My suspicion that Uncle Cao is from the Secret Door isn’t because of the two children, but because of something else.”

 

Song Fan looked up: “What thing?”

 

“First, the Ministry of Revenue refused to allocate funds, then the one hundred thousand taels Liang Fang earmarked for diverting the Nanqing River disappeared, and then the five hundred thousand taels allocated by Huang Ting vanished within Xuzhou territory. It all seems inextricably linked to Liang Fang. But what appears to be a one-way connection isn’t entirely so. For instance, when the imperial court’s river repair funds were transported to Xuzhou, Cao Village was directly on the route!”

 

Su Cen paused before continuing: “I didn’t suspect earlier because I hadn’t connected Cao Village to the Secret Door. I thought they lacked the capability to intercept imperial convoys. But once connected to the Secret Door, everything makes sense.”

 

“That Chanzhou County magistrate was also one of your people, wasn’t he? First, with Liang Fang’s one hundred thousand taels, Cao Village successfully obtained documents bearing Liang Fang’s official seal. Then, after techniques to remove the surface text, they replaced it with the transfer document for those five hundred thousand taels. Huang Ting had a guilty conscience, so naturally, he wouldn’t scrutinize the details, while Lord Liang was kept in the dark from beginning to end.”

 

“The sixty hundred thousand taels that vanished into thin air went to you, to the Secret Door. The Nanqing River breached, Xuzhou’s embankments collapsed—you exchanged tens of thousands of lives for those six hundred thousand taels. Averaging it out, a human life wasn’t even worth five taels of silver!”

 

Su Cen fell silent, his chest heaving several times before gradually calming. The room became quiet for a moment. After what seemed like several heartbeats, Song Fan applauded: “As expected of Lord Su.”

 

“I can understand the connections between them,” Su Cen examined Song Fan with his cold eyes, frowning slightly: “But I can’t understand who you really are.”

 

Upon hearing this, Song Fan leaned back and laughed heartily, like a child who had succeeded in a prank. After laughing for quite some time, he finally stopped and looked at Su Cen with curved eyes: “You’ll know in the future.”

 

“The future?” Su Cen’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t come to kill me?”

 

“Lord Su is so interesting, how could I bear to kill you? I merely came to reminisce with Lord Su.”

 

“However—” Lightning flashed outside the window, illuminating Song Fan’s eerie face, “If you could guess that Cao Village is one of ours, can you guess where Li Shi is now?”

 

Su Cen’s heart suddenly tightened. Li Shi was still outside with the people of Xuzhou city. Although Qi Lin and the others were with him, what if someone disguised as a refugee attempted an assassination?!

 

Su Cen rose to leave but was grabbed by Song Fan, his hands bound behind him as he was pressed against the window.

 

When that window opened, torrential rain poured in, drenching Su Cen completely. He seemed oblivious, his piercing gaze penetrating the heavy rain curtain as he leaned half his body out, looking as far as he could see. The study was located above the main hall’s tower, providing a clear view of the entire temporary palace. Su Cen searched again and again, but there was no sign of Li Shi anywhere.

 

Song Fan laughed lightly: “Have they already succeeded?”

 

“Impossible!” Su Cen broke free from Song Fan with such force that his arms were nearly broken. His trembling voice was swallowed by the downpour, receiving no response.

 

But when he turned around, Su Cen suddenly became calm.

 

Song Fan frowned, not yet understanding what had happened when his body instinctively dodged sideways. With a “clang,” metal collided with the wooden window frame, instantly shattering it.

 

Song Fan hurriedly turned around, and seeing the situation at the door, his heart chilled.

 

The Prince of Ning, who should have been assassinated, was standing at the door, accompanied by Qi Lin and Liang Fang. And what had just attacked him was Uncle Cao’s pipe.

 

Uncle Cao’s pipe, which normally looked insignificant in his hands, wielded tremendous force. Before Song Fan could react, the heavy brass pipe bowl came down on his head, bringing with it a fierce wind.

 

Song Fan had no choice—his sword was still embedded in A Chun’s body. Unarmed, he could only raise his hand to block. The sound of his radius breaking reached everyone’s ears, yet Song Fan bit his lip and didn’t make a sound.

 

Trapped in a desperate situation, Song Fan didn’t struggle needlessly but surrendered, though he gave Uncle Cao a cold stare: “You betray me, you betray the Secret Door!”

 

Uncle Cao put away his pipe and shook his head, “I helped you back then, but I never imagined it would harm all of Xuzhou. Cao Village’s sin is grave, and we must repay our own debt.”

 

 

“Repay? With what?” Song Fan suddenly lowered his head and laughed sinisterly. “With those two children you’re protecting with your life?”

 

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(advanced chapters available on kofi)