PCA Chapter 175

Ning Santong and Feng Yiming were both startled. Ning Santong looked up at Su Cen: “Where is it?”

 

Having said this much, Su Cen suddenly became mysterious, smiling enigmatically, “As Buddha says: It cannot be spoken.”

 

Ning Santong made a disappointed sound, saying regretfully: “I still wanted to see it. I wonder if anything can still be discerned from a body that’s over ten years old.”

 

Feng Yiming also smiled: “I have no interest in dead men’s bones. If you want to look, you can go look.”

 

The meal was enjoyed by all. Using the pretext of welcoming Feng Yiming to the capital, they drank quite a bit. By the time they left the restaurant, everyone was somewhat tipsy.

 

Su Cen appeared the most affected, needing the support of both men to stand steady. Halfway back, he seemed completely disoriented, constantly slipping downward.

 

Feng Yiming pulled him up again, complaining: “I’ve never seen him drink so much before. He looks so slender, but when drunk, he’s like mud, unbearably heavy.”

 

“Maybe he’s just happy,” Ning Santong said. “After all, this old case is related to Lord Chen. Since returning from Xuzhou, he’s been burdened with this matter. Lord Chen’s importance to him is obvious to all. Being able to fulfill the wishes of those who came before is certainly something to be happy about.”

 

Feng Yiming nodded, then asked: “If he really found Tian Pingzhi’s remains, could it truly reveal the cause of death from back then?”

 

“I can’t say for sure,” Ning Santong shook his head. “It depends on the condition of the body. Sometimes time erases evidence, and sometimes it reveals truth.”

 

After bidding farewell to Ning Santong at the Imperial Tutor’s residence, Feng Yiming had to support Su Cen alone as they walked back. Upon reaching Xingqing Palace, the seemingly unconscious drunk man consciously stopped, his bleary eyes examining the top of the Huayue Building for a moment before stepping toward the entrance.

 

Feng Yiming almost laughed in exasperation, pointing to Changle Ward ahead: “That’s your home.”

 

“Home?” Su Cen squinted drunkenly. “Who’s at home?”

 

Feng Yiming counted on his fingers: “There’s me, Ah Fu, and Ling’er.”

 

Su Cen squinted his eyes, waiting for Feng Yiming to continue, but saw that he had stopped speaking after these names. Su Cen shook his head, “Not right, someone’s missing.”

 

Feng Yiming couldn’t help but mock him—daring to claim the Prince of Ning as family, truly not knowing his place.

 

But after laughing, he still felt uncomfortable. He laughed at Su Cen’s foolish dreams, yet he himself didn’t even have the right to dream foolishly. The truly pitiful one might not be Su Cen, but himself.

 

Finally, Feng Yiming only left after handing Su Cen over to Qi Lin. As soon as they entered the gates of Xingqing Palace, Su Cen’s body suddenly straightened, his eyes clear as water, without a trace of drowsiness or intoxication.

 

Su Cen took off his outer robe and accepted the night clothes from Qi Lin’s hands. After changing properly, he said to him: “Just tell the Prince that I have something to do tonight and won’t be coming over.”

 

Qi Lin frowned with concern: “How much did you drink? Are you sure you can manage?”

 

Su Cen smiled lightly: “Just half a jin of Huadiao wine, nothing to worry about.”

 

Su Cen’s alcohol tolerance had been gradually built up by Xingqing Palace’s private wine collection. He could drink half a jar of rich, savory aged wine, making the watered-down thin wine from the market hardly worth mentioning.

 

He had calculated that since neither Ning nor Feng knew his alcohol capacity, he could easily feign drunkenness. Such a small trick would have immediately been seen through by Li Shi.

 

Qi Lin nodded, then asked: “Are you really not going to tell my lord?”

 

Su Cen turned and smiled at him: “I can handle it.”

 

After watching Su Cen exit the main gate of Xingqing Palace and head west, Qi Lin went to Li Shi’s study and repeated Su Cen’s words verbatim.

 

Li Shi fingered his thumb ring and nodded, “Let him go.”

 

After nightfall, the day’s remaining warmth quickly dissipated. The tangled branches of the jujube trees fragmented the pale moonlight. The hole that had been dug earlier was still there, with piles of excavated earth casting shadows in the moonlight, resembling raised graves.

 

The rows of cage-like examination cells ahead seemed like beasts crouching in the darkness, glaring vigilantly at the intruder.

 

Su Cen’s slight intoxication had been completely dispersed by the night wind. He sat sideways on a jujube tree, idly picking and eating jujubes.

 

Eating too many jujubes can cause bloating, but it wasn’t convenient to get down and walk around to digest. Su Cen could only lean against a branch, lying back to rub his stomach, and soon began to feel drowsy.

 

After dozing off briefly, he was suddenly awakened by a cold wind and nearly fell from the tree. Su Cen pulled his collar together and sniffed, thinking to himself that this person truly had patience—most of the night had passed with no action. If they didn’t come soon, dawn would break.

 

Just as he finished thinking this, rustling sounds came from not far away. Su Cen instantly became alert, his ice-like eyes piercing through the layers of branches to look over. He saw someone also dressed in black night clothes, with a slender figure, carrying an iron shovel, calmly approaching under the jujube tree. After looking around, the person found a seemingly flat area and began to dig.

 

As expected, Su Cen pressed his lips together, but there was no joy in having guessed correctly. Instead, his gaze gradually grew colder as he stared at the figure in the darkness, hesitating to take action.

 

The fragile jujube branch finally couldn’t support Su Cen’s weight. With a crisp cracking sound, it gave no time for preparation before dropping him to the ground.

 

Su Cen landed in a daze, and it seemed his thigh had been punctured several times by the hard thorns of the jujube branches. Grimacing in pain, he got up and patted the leaves from his body. When he raised his head, he met the sharp gaze of the black-clothed figure.

 

Their eyes met, the shovel gleaming coldly in the moonlight, reflecting in Su Cen’s eyes like a layer of ice.

 

After a moment, the black-clothed figure threw down the shovel and smiled bitterly in resignation: “So it was a trap after all.”

 

“Feng Yiming,” Su Cen said, “it really was you.”

 

In the cold moonlight, their elongated shadows stood facing each other like opponents. A breeze passed through the courtyard, but the moment had frozen in a standoff, as if those two sentences had revealed everything, and neither knew how to continue.

 

After a while, Feng Yiming smiled, “When did you start suspecting me?”

 

Su Cen looked directly at Feng Yiming and slowly said: “I should say that since you arrived in the capital, I’ve been thinking about your purpose.”

 

Feng Yiming raised his eyebrows, “Yet you still brought me along when investigating? Did you want to see when I would slip up, then catch me yourself so I would die without a proper burial?”

 

“I said before that I hoped it wasn’t Ning San, and similarly, I hoped it wasn’t you,” Su Cen lowered his eyelids, his lashes concealing the light in his eyes. “But you ultimately disappointed me.”

 

Feng Yiming smiled sarcastically, “On one hand, full of talk about righteousness and morality, on the other, mercilessly setting a trap to catch me. Minister Su truly is both iron-blooded and tender-hearted. You’ve played the good person role, what more can I say?”

 

Su Cen said: “That day on the way to the examination hall, you cut the rope on Ning San’s box with a small knife, ensuring it wouldn’t break immediately. Once we entered the examination hall, the rope finally gave way, allowing your people to bypass us and come here, creating the illusion that Tian Pingzhi had been dug up.”

 

“But in such a short time, it would be impossible to find the exact location of Tian Pingzhi’s burial. So you dug a human-shaped hole under the jujube tree, attempting to create the false impression that the body had been removed, when in fact the real body was still here, never having been dug up.”

 

Su Cen looked up at Feng Yiming, took a breath, and continued: “Afterward, you had your people reach the Ministry of Rites before us, destroying the records of Prime Minister Liu borrowing the examination hall key, pushing all blame onto him.”

 

“Can these be considered so-called evidence? It’s also possible that Ning San himself cut the rope to mislead us.” Feng Yiming’s lips continued to hold a smile as he calmly looked at Su Cen. “In the end, it’s still differential treatment.”

 

Su Cen shook his head, maintaining a calm expression as he faced off with Feng Yiming. “I really began to suspect you because of the fire in the archives. There were only three people inside, and no one left their seats during that time. How did the fire start?”

 

Feng Yiming smiled, “It was white phosphorus.”

 

“Exactly, white phosphorus,” Su Cen said. “You placed white phosphorus next to easily flammable books. At first it was in the shadows, but as time passed and the sunlight gradually shifted, you could achieve your goal of setting fire without lifting a finger. White phosphorus is something only the Secret Door would have. You should be familiar with it, shouldn’t you?”

 

“So that’s how it was.” Feng Yiming smiled self-mockingly. “So when I tried to direct suspicion toward Ning San, you already knew it was me.”

 

Su Cen shook his head lightly, “I would make excuses for Ning San, and naturally would make excuses for you too. Perhaps people from the Secret Door had interfered, and that person might not necessarily be you. To be honest, before seeing you tonight, I didn’t know who would come.”

 

Feng Yiming was slightly taken aback, and after a moment said: “But you still set a trap to lure me in. In the end, you still didn’t trust me.”

 

Su Cen quietly looked at Feng Yiming, his gaze revealing something between heartache and sympathy. “You once tried to kill me through He Xiao, and at the end of the year, you presented a painting coated with white phosphorus to the Prince. You say you want me to trust you, but how can I trust you?”

 

“I was unaware of that painting. I didn’t do these things for the Secret Door,” Feng Yiming spread his hands helplessly. “If I told you everything I did was for the Prince, would you believe me?”

 

Su Cen’s gaze was icy, and he shook his head without the slightest hesitation.

 

Feng Yiming smiled helplessly, “You see, that’s the difference between us. I can use any despicable means for his sake, while you only know how to stab him with open blades.”

 

Though Feng Yiming was smiling, his eyes were almost painful, moist as if about to drip tears. “But in the end, the one he favors is the upright person.”

 

Author’s Note:

 

Yesterday some readers actually guessed it, so impressive!

 

 

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)