PCA Chapter 187

The hall instantly fell silent, so quiet a pin drop could be heard, but after a brief moment, it completely erupted.

 

The current Right Prime Minister had personally admitted to killing someone, more than a decade ago. This meant that the Prime Minister, who had held half the court and wielded enormous power for all these years, was actually a murderer!

 

Su Cen struck the judgment wood several times to no avail. With a stern look, the yamen runners on both sides immediately understood and slammed their staffs heavily on the ground, causing a quake that gradually suppressed the clamor outside.

 

Su Cen quietly looked at Liu Cheng, not that he wasn’t shocked, but having been involved with this case for so long, he had already anticipated all possible outcomes. He had long known that this case was inextricably linked to Liu Cheng, but he didn’t believe it should end with him.

 

“How did you kill him?”

 

Liu Cheng pressed his lips together: “Don’t you already know clearly…”

 

Su Cen frowned: “Tell the truth, how did you kill him?!”

 

Liu Cheng raised his head with a frown, and only when he met the sharpness in Su Cen’s eyes did he avert his gaze as if hiding, “I… I drugged him.”

 

“What drug?”

 

“…” Liu Cheng was almost breathless from being confronted. Just as he was about to fling his sleeve and leave, he suddenly remembered his status as a criminal. Looking at Su Cen on the bench, then at the yamen runners on both sides and the onlookers, the anger in his heart suddenly dissipated.

 

Disgrace and ruin were just a matter of one sentence.

 

“He had asthma, so the night before the examination, I added hazelnut powder to the sugar water that Old Master Tian had prepared. I knew he would definitely drink a bowl of sugar water before entering the examination hall. Sure enough, he didn’t hesitate at all, drank the bowl of sugar water in one go, and ended up having an asthma attack during the exam, leading to his death.”

 

Su Cen nodded silently. He had told Liu Cheng that Tian Pingzhi died from asthma triggered by hazelnut powder, but he had never mentioned the words “sugar water.” Now that Liu Cheng could unhesitatingly point out sugar water, it could only confirm his suspicion.

 

Su Cen continued asking: “How did you know he had asthma, and how were you able to put poison in Old Master Tian’s sugar water?”

 

Liu Cheng lowered his head and replied softly: “I had a close relationship with him. He considered me a friend…”

 

Su Cen frowned deeply, “He treated you as a friend, yet you poisoned him with intent to kill!”

 

“I…” Liu Cheng raised his head, hesitating to speak, then lowered his head again, “I failed him.”

 

“You failed not only him but also Old Master Tian. You drove a father to become a murderer, willing to go to hell himself as long as he could find his son’s killer,” Su Cen lowered his eyes gently. “Yet he never suspected you from start to finish.”

 

Liu Cheng was silent for a moment before saying: “Old Master Tian… he always treated me well. When I came out of the examination hall, I saw him again. He asked me ‘How did you do?’ ‘Were the questions difficult?’ all while staring at the entrance of the examination hall. He told me ‘I always knew Pingzhi wasn’t as good as you, too impetuous, too easily excited. It’s good that you’ll be first; it will temper his arrogance.’ He didn’t know Tian Pingzhi was already dead, that he would never come out.”

 

Liu Cheng’s face showed genuine grief and regret, not appearing to be feigned. Su Cen frowned slightly, “So why did you kill him, after all?”

 

Liu Cheng smiled helplessly, “I’ve already killed him. Why bother with so many whys?”

 

Su Cen said calmly: “If you say you were jealous of Tian Pingzhi’s scholarship, yet you submitted a blank paper. If that’s not the case, yet you were indeed the top scholar that year. So clarifying the reason is very important, otherwise how would I know if you killed him for fame, for sentiment, or… at someone else’s behest?”

 

There was a moment of panic in Liu Cheng’s eyes, and he quickly averted his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Then, perhaps thinking this might arouse suspicion, he raised his head and looked at Su Cen: “Whether it was for fame or sentiment, it was all my doing, with no one else involved. The reasons from back then might not even be worth mentioning today. Some kill in anger, some kill by accident. I killed him, and I admit my guilt, that’s all.”

 

“Then do you know that Tian Pingzhi didn’t die from the hazelnut powder you added?”

 

Liu Cheng sharply raised his head.

 

Su Cen’s eyes lowered slightly, capturing every movement on Liu Cheng’s face, and said word by word: “He was buried alive.”

 

The color drained from Liu Cheng’s face in an instant. He staggered backwards two steps, and after a moment, as if waking from a dream, shook his head, “No… impossible…”

 

“Do you know what being buried alive feels like?” Su Cen asked, trying to maintain a calm tone. “He drank the sugar water you laced with hazelnut powder, had an asthma attack, and passed out. But the chief examiner of that time didn’t consider these details, assumed he had died suddenly, and had him buried on the spot behind the examination hall. When Tian Pingzhi woke up, he would first feel pressure on his chest, a strong sense of suffocation. For someone who already had difficulty breathing, it would have been even more unbearable. But the heavy soil tightly covering him made it impossible to move. He could only laboriously, gradually die.”

 

“But the most unbearable part would have been the fear in his heart. He knew he was going to die, could hear his own broken gasps, yet saw only darkness. He should have had a brilliant future—quick-witted, talented, a pillar of society. His examination essay addressed the problems of regional military governors dividing territories and local forces amassing power, pointing directly at the contradictions, penetrating to the core. Unfortunately, he only completed half of it. Do you think in his final moment, what he felt was fear, or reluctance to accept his fate? Or perhaps resentment, wondering why it had to be him?”

 

“He wouldn’t have felt resentment,” Liu Cheng said softly. “He was naturally carefree, never taking anything to heart, possessing talent but unaware of it, never guarding against anyone, so he often suffered for it. But he never resented anyone, just laughed it off and never learned from it. I was different—holding grudges, vengeful, calculating. If someone owed me a bit, I would demand ten-fold, hundred-fold in return. But that fool, he… he actually wanted to be my friend.”

 

Liu Cheng raised his head, smiling faintly at the plaque of the Dali Temple. As he lowered his head, Su Cen clearly saw something flash by, falling onto the crimson tiles of the Dali Temple, instantly disappearing without a trace.

 

Liu Cheng lowered his head and murmured, “Why him?”

 

At this point, further questioning would yield nothing more. Su Cen was silent for a moment, then tapped the judgment wood, saying: “Director of the Imperial Secretariat Liu Cheng, suspected of murdering the Liuzhou scholar Tian Pingzhi, shall be detained in prison pending further interrogation. Minister of the Imperial Household Zhang He, for his reckless disregard for human life, shall also be brought in to await punishment. Court dismissed!”

 

The yamen runners on both sides came forward and placed long chains and shackles on Liu Cheng’s hands. As they released them, the chains clanked downward, pulling down his somewhat thin wrists.

 

Liu Cheng pressed his lips together but said nothing more, allowing the yamen runners to escort him step by step toward the Dali Temple prison.

 

The crowd in the hall gradually dispersed, some sighing, some lamenting, all eventually dissolving into the vast air, vanishing with the flow of people. The one who should have spoken remained silent, quietly accepting the court records made by the scribes, looking through them page by page.

 

Only after everyone had left did Zhang Jun stand up and approach Su Cen, whispering: “Did Prime Minister Liu really kill him?”

 

Su Cen nodded lightly, “He confessed to the crime process without reservation and was very clear about the details. He knew Tian Pingzhi’s daily habits and could administer the poison without arousing suspicion, fitting the characteristics of a crime committed by someone familiar to the victim. This person should indeed be Liu Cheng.”

 

Zhang Jun nodded, then frowned again, “But why did he kill Tian Pingzhi?”

 

Su Cen’s index finger tapped on the table, “That’s the crux of the matter. When discussing the poisoning process, he was methodical, but when it came to the reason, he became vague.”

 

Su Cen placed the court records in front of Zhang Jun, “He was completely guarded with me, giving nothing away, and in the end I could only extract the phrase ‘Why him?'”

 

“‘Why him?'” Zhang Jun remembered this phrase being said by both Su Cen and Liu Cheng—a seemingly irrelevant sentence repeated twice. He had found it strange at the time but hadn’t dwelled on it. Now that it was brought up again, he couldn’t help asking: “What does that mean?”

 

Su Cen smiled lightly, “It means exactly what it says—why was it Tian Pingzhi who died, and not someone else? Since Liu Cheng said this, it indicates that he too doesn’t understand why Tian Pingzhi had to die, or at least he feels Tian Pingzhi shouldn’t have died. A person who shouldn’t have died was killed by him—why do you think that is?”

 

Zhang Jun, being a seasoned official, caught on quickly, “You’re saying there’s someone behind Liu Cheng who instructed him to do this.”

 

“And this person is worth him sacrificing his life to protect.”

 

Zhang Jun muttered for a while, then felt a chill in his heart, “You mean…”

 

Su Cen nodded lightly, “Why Liu Cheng could become the top scholar despite submitting a blank paper, why Tian Pingzhi’s case was suppressed and not allowed to be investigated, and how Lord Chen went from investigating Tian Pingzhi’s case to Lu Family Village—these all remain unresolved. In this case, Liu Cheng is just a pawn; the bigger mastermind is still behind the scenes.” He smiled at Zhang Jun, “Does your lordship still want me to investigate?”

 

“Would you stop if I said no?” Zhang Jun snorted coldly. “I’ve long seen it—you’re just like my teacher, both stubborn as mules, never giving up until you hit a wall. He could stay in Lu Family Village for a lifetime, and you can clench onto a case and refuse to let go.”

 

After speaking, Zhang Jun flung his sleeve and strode away, “Old and young alike, not one of them gives me peace of mind!”

 

Su Cen smiled, watching him leave before withdrawing his gaze. His eyes fixed on Liu Cheng’s final words “Why him?” for a long time before sighing deeply, packing up his things, and heading home.

 

Leaving the Dali Temple gates, Su Cen saw that only a few scattered people remained where there had been a bustling crowd earlier. He suddenly understood why Liu Cheng had sent his carriage home first. He had calculated it all along—once he entered those gates, he never intended to come out again.

 

Passing Xingqing Palace and returning to Changle Ward, as Su Cen turned into his own alley, he was startled to see a figure standing abruptly in front of his small residence—it was Cui Hao, who should have already left the capital.

 

Seeing him return, Cui Hao rushed forward several steps. As he approached, before Su Cen could decide whether to dodge or not, Cui Hao suddenly dropped to his knees on the bluestone slabs in front of the Su residence.

 

Only then did Su Cen realize that Cui Hao’s eyes were fixed on him like sharp knives, wet with tears as if weeping blood.

 

Cui Hao kowtowed deeply on the bluestone, “I beg you, please save Zhongpei.”

 

 

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