The deadline being set at year’s end was within Su Cen’s expectations. He hadn’t hoped for Li Sheng to be very magnanimous. In fact, Li Sheng’s easy agreement to let him investigate was already beyond his expectations.
Logically, he and Li Shi were incompatible as fire and water. This matter might even have been instigated by Li Sheng. He should be eager for everyone to ignore it and directly execute Li Shi on charges of treason.
He had long been prepared—even if he had no support at all, even if there were mountains of knives and seas of fire ahead, he would walk to the end alone.
Su Cen quit while ahead, leading Zheng Yang in bowing and taking leave. He was afraid that staying longer, he wouldn’t be able to resist punching Li Sheng in the face.
On the way, Zheng Yang asked: “Can you manage by year’s end? This involves both Turks and the former emperor—it won’t be easy to investigate, will it?”
Su Cen was being mysterious: “It’s easy if you say it’s easy, difficult if you say it’s difficult.”
“How is it easy?”
Su Cen said as he walked: “Open Zhaoling Mausoleum and take a look—whether the former emperor was strangled or died of illness will be clear at a glance.”
Zheng Yang: “…”
Since ancient times, once an imperial mausoleum was sealed, it would never be reopened. There had always been the belief that imperial tombs were connected to national fortune, so generally, auspicious feng shui sites were chosen and imperial mausoleums built during the emperor’s lifetime. The location directly affected the longevity of national fortune. Even if it was originally built as an emperor-empress joint tomb, if the emperor died first, the empress could only have a separate empress tomb built beside the imperial mausoleum rather than opening the tomb for joint burial.
Not only that, but throughout dynasties, grave robbing and tomb digging were severely punished. After all, no one wanted others to view their remains as a pile of white bones after death.
So Su Cen’s suggestion to open Zhaoling was just talk—it wasn’t practically feasible.
Zheng Yang sighed silently and continued asking: “Then what makes it difficult?”
Su Cen: “Zhaoling can’t be opened.”
Zheng Yang: “…”
Outside the palace gates, Zheng Yang’s carriage was still waiting. The two boarded, and Zheng Yang said: “Curfew is about to begin. Where are you going? I’ll take you.”
Having been away for a year, Su Cen had almost forgotten Chang’an still had curfew. He silently thought through the places he could go, and a location instantly flashed through his mind, his voice suddenly becoming hoarse.
Zheng Yang waited a long time without getting an answer and could only instruct the driver: “Go to Changle Ward.”
“Go to Xingqing Palace,” Su Cen interrupted, his voice carrying a hint of tightness. He inexplicably felt the anxiety of approaching home, but still stubbornly repeated: “Let’s go to Xingqing Palace.”
Zheng Yang smiled meaningfully, not pointing it out, and instructed the driver to head toward Xingqing Palace.
The carriage finally stopped outside Xingqing Palace gates. What had once been magnificent and imposing palace gates now stood desolate, with both great doors tightly shut. Even the eternal flames of Huae Xianghui Tower had been extinguished. The entire palace was like a slumbering beast.
Su Cen’s attention didn’t linger on this for long. His breathing was somewhat rapid, his fingertips trembling slightly. He had rehearsed ten thousand times in his mind what to say when he saw Li Shi, only to have cold water poured over him by the two guards at the gate.
With the palace gates right there, he couldn’t enter.
Su Cen said: “I am investigating this case by His Majesty’s decree. With imperial authority, I can freely enter and exit any location related to the case.”
The two guards stared straight ahead: “Prince Yu has ordered that no one may enter Xingqing Palace.”
“How dare you!” Zheng Yang stepped forward. “His Majesty has decreed that he should investigate, yet you still dare obstruct him. Could it be that Prince Yu is greater than His Majesty?”
The two guards remained unmoved: “We only follow Prince Yu’s orders.”
“Outrageous!”
Zheng Yang rolled up his sleeves to advance but was quickly stopped by Su Cen. Two weak scholars like them couldn’t gain any advantage here. He stepped back a few paces to assess the height of Xingqing Palace’s walls. When Li Shi had taken over Xingqing Palace, he had fortified it like an iron fortress, which now served as a natural barrier. Climbing over with bare hands was clearly unrealistic.
He could only return to negotiate with the two guards, saying coldly: “Your Prince Yu has already agreed to let me investigate. If you don’t believe it, you can go ask.”
The two guards exchanged glances and continued expressionlessly: “We must see written orders to act.”
“A pack of mongrels—” Zheng Yang could bear it no longer and finally charged forward.
In no time, he was kicked down from the stone steps in front of Xingqing Palace gates.
The young master of the Duke of Ying’s residence had always walked sideways through the capital—when had he ever suffered such humiliation? Ignoring his bruised arms and legs, he stood up to charge again.
By the time Su Cen managed to restrain him, the evening drums had sounded—curfew had arrived.
Zheng Yang came to his senses as if waking from a dream: “So now even going to find that old thing for written orders would be useless?”
Looking at Su Cen, his expression had also darkened: “When beating a dog, consider its master. What’s the point of arguing with two dogs?”
Zheng Yang bit his lip dejectedly: “So what do we do now?”
Su Cen looked once more at the two tightly shut gates and could only say helplessly: “Let’s leave it for now and make plans tomorrow.”
The moon was nearly full, its light clear and bright. Li Shi emerged from the Qinzheng Wuben Tower, walking slowly toward his bedchamber in the moonlight.
Rarely free from court troubles and endless memorials to review, he had slept from afternoon until nightfall. If not for the sudden night breeze, he might have continued sleeping.
All of Xingqing Palace was quiet, with only a string of light, unhurried footsteps. Passing the main gate, those footsteps paused, and he looked back.
A bright moon hung alone in the sky above the gate tower, moonlight cascading down like cold gauze. He unconsciously reached out, wanting to grasp that moonbeam.
Su Cen sat in the carriage, gazing at Xingqing Palace’s gates from afar. Zheng Yang was already asleep holding a brocade cloak. Logically, after his long journey, Su Cen should be sleeping even more soundly than Zheng Yang, yet he found himself completely unable to sleep, staring at those two doors with myriad thoughts.
He had thought their meeting in Suzhou was a final farewell, that everything could return to normal from then on—Li Shi would continue as regent prince while he lived his small life under the protection of Li Shi’s influence, with neither asking about the other, forgotten in the rivers and lakes.
But fate played tricks. Upon hearing that name, his composure was immediately shattered.
Now he had crossed thousands of mountains and rivers to return, only to be blocked by a door.
Behind that door lay his ideals and devotion, his hopes and everything. Since he had returned once more, he would never let it slip through his fingers again.
The first ray of dawn broke through. Su Cen gathered his spirits and had just stepped down from the carriage when he saw a group approaching from the distance.
Leading them was Zhang Jun.
After a year’s absence, Lord Zhang’s belly had grown another size. Coming near, he looked at Su Cen in silence for a long while, finally just patting Su Cen’s shoulder and saying softly: “It’s good that you’re back.”
He turned and pointed to the people he’d brought: “Everyone at the Dali Temple still follows your orders.”
Words of gratitude would be empty. Su Cen nodded seriously at him. Since entering officialdom, Zhang Jun had always been his mentor and friend. Though he usually liked to coast and practice tai chi, he could step up when it mattered and never abandoned his post at crucial moments.
Su Cen looked at Zheng Yang, who had just gotten off the carriage, and asked: “What time is Brother Feng’s burial?”
“Around the si hour,” Zheng Yang said while yawning. “Too early and people won’t all be there, and it’s inconvenient in this cold weather.”
Su Cen nodded, then turned to Zhang Jun: “Before that, I’d like to see Qi Lin first.”
##
![Flying Dust [Fei Chen]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/9k.png "Flying Dust [Fei Chen]")