PCA Chapter 197

Su Cen felt his mind roaring. He stepped forward, opened the cell door, and looked down at the scene below. The Prime Minister Liu who had been so spirited in court that day now lay before his eyes, blood stains covering his head, obscuring half his face, making the other half appear pale as paper, emanating a heavy aura of death.

 

Su Cen felt his throat constrict terribly. After struggling for a long time, he finally managed to speak: “What… happened?”

 

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Zhang Jun stepped forward and said gravely. “The jailers were all drugged. When they woke up, it was like this. Where did you just go?”

 

Su Cen looked up toward the cell door: “How was the cell door opened?”

 

“The cell door was opened later by the jailers. It was locked before,” Zhang Jun pressed his lips together. “Prime Minister Liu… committed suicide.”

 

“Why would he commit suicide? How could he possibly commit suicide?!” He had clearly seen Cui Hao, he clearly wanted to live!

 

Su Cen suddenly looked toward the adjacent cell: “What about this side? Was the cell door also opened by jailers?”

 

But Zhang Jun shook his head: “This one was open, broken open by force.”

 

Su Cen slowly crouched down along the wooden bars connecting the two cells. At the lower part, he could clearly see several still-fresh damages – finger marks that had dug deep into the wood. Looking further down, Su Cen was stunned and picked out from the gaps in the dried grass a blood-stained, broken… fingernail.

 

Zhang Jun frowned and asked: “Who was imprisoned in this cell? I couldn’t find any detention records for this cell from the head jailer.”

 

Su Cen didn’t look up, staring at the fingernail and saying quietly: “Cui Hao.”

 

“You, you…” Zhang Jun pointed at Su Cen and jabbed his finger several times, finally dropping his hand and sighing, “What am I supposed to say about you!”

 

Su Cen suddenly stood up, ignoring Zhang Jun and going directly to find a cell closest to Liu Cheng’s prison. He opened the cell door and grabbed the prisoner inside, “Tell me, what exactly happened?”

 

The prisoner stumbled back a step, cowering: “I, I don’t know either… I didn’t see anything…”

 

Su Cen frowned: “Speak!”

 

The prisoner immediately replied: “Someone came in, stood at the cell door and said something, then with a thud that person hit the wall. Then the person next to him started crying and shouting, and before you came, he broke down the door and ran away.”

 

Su Cen grabbed the prisoner’s clothing again: “Who was the person who came? What did they say?!”

 

The prisoner’s neck was constricted by the clothing, his tongue hanging out as he struggled to say: “Too… too far away, I couldn’t see clearly… couldn’t hear clearly either…”

 

Seeing the prisoner about to be strangled to death, Zhang Jun frowned and shouted: “Su Cen!”

 

Only then did Su Cen release his grip. The prisoner’s body went limp and collapsed to the ground, coughing desperately.

 

“You don’t need to handle this case anymore,” Zhang Jun stepped forward. “Hand the case over to Chengzhen and go home to reflect.”

 

“This is my case,” Su Cen said with his head down, his voice quiet but unwavering. “I’ll bear responsibility for my own mistakes.”

 

“I am the Minister of the Dali Temple, and I still have the final say here!” Zhang Jun dragged him out of the cell without room for argument and threw him heavily against the cell door. “Get out and go home! Don’t come back until this case is finished. Get out, get out!”

 

Qu Ling’er stepped forward to support Su Cen, who barely managed to stand. He stared at Zhang Jun in a daze, truly not knowing what to do. He didn’t understand why Lord Zhang, who usually just drank tea and practiced tai chi, had such strength, nor why Lord Zhang, who most disliked trouble, was rushing to take on this mess, like a protective mother hen.

 

“You,” Zhang Jun frowned and pointed at Qu Ling’er, “hurry up and take him away. Lock him at home or send him to Xingqing Palace, just don’t let him stay here.”

 

Qu Ling’er nodded, forcibly dragging Su Cen out of the prison and all the way out of the Dali Temple. Standing on the street, he looked around in confusion, then turned back to ask: “Brother Su, do you want to go home or to the Prince’s place?”

 

Su Cen looked at the bustling crowd and was stunned for a while, suddenly feeling lost. The case had turned out like this—Liu Cheng had committed suicide, Cui Hao was missing, and Zhang Jun was cleaning up the mess for him while he could do nothing.

 

He had no face to go home, and no face to see Li Shi either.

 

Qu Ling’er pressed his lips together and tugged at Su Cen: “Then Brother Su, let me take you somewhere.”

 

Su Cen hadn’t expected Qu Ling’er to bring him to a teahouse.

 

The two chose an elegant seat upstairs and ordered a pot of Longjing tea. When the tea arrived, Qu Ling’er poured a cup and placed it in front of Su Cen: “Brother Su, have some tea.”

 

Su Cen quietly watched the steam rising from the teacup but didn’t take a sip for a long time.

 

Qu Ling’er sighed. He knew Su Cen was used to fine tea, so he had specifically spent a lot of money to order the most expensive tea here. Seeing the tea grow cold without Su Cen even touching it, his heart ached.

 

Qu Ling’er forced a smile: “Brother Su, do you remember this place?”

 

Su Cen looked at the bustling crowd below and nodded lightly: “Where we first met.”

 

It was also where he and Li Shi first met.

 

“Whether you helped me because I threatened you or for other reasons, I’m grateful to you.” Qu Ling’er held his teacup with both hands, head lowered. “Now that you’re in trouble, I want to help you too.”

 

“I just don’t know if it will be useful to you,” Qu Ling’er pressed his lips together. “If it’s not useful, then I have no other options. We could go ask the Prince—he cares about you so much, he’ll definitely protect you.”

 

“Qu Ling’er,” Su Cen suddenly interrupted. After becoming familiar, he rarely called Qu Ling’er by his full name, so even Qu Ling’er was startled and looked up blankly, only to see Su Cen’s face dark as if water would drip from it.

 

“You don’t need to do this,” Su Cen said in a low voice.

 

Qu Ling’er shook his head gently: “Whether to tell or not is up to me. I didn’t say anything before because I wanted to keep it as a last bargaining chip. If I were caught and taken back, but hadn’t leaked the secret, they might spare my life. But now I have you and Brother Qi, so I’m not afraid anymore. If they come to catch me, you’ll save me, right?”

 

Su Cen said coldly: “I can barely protect myself now.”

 

Qu Ling’er couldn’t help but smile bitterly: “Can’t you just humor me a little?”

 

Su Cen patted Qu Ling’er’s fidgeting fingers, picked up the cold teacup and drained it in one gulp, then stood up and said: “Ling’er, it’s not necessary.”

 

He had only taken two steps when he heard Qu Ling’er say behind him: “The thumb ring the Prince always wears—Lu Xun has one just like it.”

 

The two stayed in the teahouse until nearly dark before coming out. Qu Ling’er kept his head down and said nothing more, while Su Cen felt his steps were unsteady, as if he had experienced an absurd dream and upon waking, found everything unreal.

 

Everything was now clear.

 

About the Secret Door, about Lu Xun, about Tian Pingzhi, about the former emperor, about… Li Shi.

 

Qu Ling’er followed behind and asked: “Brother Su, what do you plan to do now?”

 

With curfew approaching, people on the street were all hurrying along. Su Cen suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, drawing frequent glances from passersby.

 

“The Dali Temple hasn’t taken action today. Lord Zhang probably wants to submit a memorial requesting punishment at tomorrow’s morning court. I can’t let Lord Zhang be implicated by my mistakes.”

 

Qu Ling’er’s face went pale: “What will happen to you?”

 

Su Cen seemed not to hear, continuing: “The person who incited Liu Cheng to suicide was most likely Lu Xun. According to that prisoner’s testimony, Cui Hao should have broken down the cell door and escaped on his own. Where could he go? What does he want to do?”

 

“Brother Su…” Qu Ling’er was so anxious he was about to cry. Even now, Su Cen was still thinking about those cases. Shouldn’t he hurry to Xingqing Palace and beg the Prince to take responsibility for everything?

 

Su Cen looked up at the ward gates that were about to close, then suddenly turned back and grabbed Qu Ling’er: “Come with me.”

 

Su Cen didn’t go home, nor did he go to Xingqing Palace. Instead, he pulled Qu Ling’er back to the front of the Imperial Tutor’s residence.

 

Ning Santong was still standing at the gate, as if specifically waiting for him.

 

Su Cen stepped forward without beating around the bush: “Have they all left?”

 

Ning Santong nodded lightly.

 

There were many Secret Door personnel hidden in the capital. In such a short time, it would be impossible for them all to evacuate the city. They must still have hideouts in the capital. Su Cen just never imagined that this place would be the Imperial Tutor’s residence.

 

“When I was at Lu Family Village, I heard Lu Xun mention they had a hidden chess piece. He was talking about you, wasn’t he?”

 

Ning Santong smiled helplessly: “It’s me, but also not me. It should be said to be the entire Imperial Tutor’s residence. That person once showed kindness to grandfather. This debt of gratitude must be repaid.”

 

“So during the Heaven Worship case, you approached me, then later led me to investigate Tian Pingzhi’s case, managed to drive Feng Yiming away, and that coroner master of yours—all to gain my trust, right?” Su Cen pressed his hand to his brow. “I don’t know which of the things you told me were true and which were false, or maybe… they were all false.”

 

Ning Santong smiled gently: “When I said I admired you, that was true.”

 

Su Cen replied coldly: “I’m afraid I can’t bear such admiration from you.”

 

“After this time, we’ll be even with Lu Xun. Whether he becomes wealthy or destitute in the future has nothing to do with the Imperial Tutor’s residence,” Ning Santong sighed. “This time our Imperial Tutor’s residence owes you once. I’ll remember this debt, and you can come collect it anytime.”

 

“I want to collect it now,” Qu Ling’er said furiously, stepping forward and grabbing Ning Santong’s collar. “Brother Su, tell me how to deal with him?”

 

But Su Cen said softly: “Ling’er, let go.”

 

Qu Ling’er looked back at Su Cen in shock. Seeing his determined gaze that didn’t seem like a joke, he reluctantly released his grip.

 

“Remember what you said,” Su Cen gave Ning Santong another look, then turned around. “Ling’er, let’s go.”

 

Qu Ling’er glared fiercely at Ning Santong once more before following.

 

After walking a few steps, they heard Ning Santong call from behind: “I also sent a gift to Brother Su’s residence to show my sincerity.”

 

Su Cen didn’t look back, his figure gradually disappearing into the night.

 

The two returned home before curfew. As soon as they entered the courtyard, Su Cen sensed something amiss. Usually at this hour, Ah Fu would be bustling about preparing dinner, but today the courtyard was eerily quiet without any movement.

 

Qu Ling’er stepped forward to shield Su Cen behind him while drawing several butterfly darts from his waist as a precaution.

 

Before they could act, someone emerged from the house.

 

The person in front was indeed Ah Fu, but with a dagger at his throat, looking at Su Cen with tears in his eyes: “Second Young Master, save me…”

 

Su Cen’s eyes narrowed slightly as he shifted his gaze to the person behind Ah Fu, slowly saying: “Cui Hao.”

 

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