A sharp buzzing flashed through Su Cen’s mind. His figure visibly swayed before the crowd, his first reaction being that Zheng Yang was playing another joke on him.
But he immediately understood—even with ten times the courage, Zheng Yang wouldn’t dare joke about his uncle, especially not this kind of joke.
As soon as he collected himself, Su Cen immediately stood and headed outside.
“Zixu!” Su Lan called from behind, his voice frighteningly cold.
Su Cen turned back, his gaze firm and resolute: “You know I must go.”
Su Lan pressed his lips in silent contemplation: “At least complete the ceremony first. It won’t delay you much, and with so many people watching, what kind of propriety is this?”
Su Cen swept his gaze around—the elders on the dais, the courtyard full of guests. These people had all come to celebrate his wedding. Now pairs of eyes were fixed on him—some curious, some worried, some waiting to see a spectacle.
“I cannot complete this ceremony.” Su Cen looked straight ahead and spoke decisively. The entire assembly erupted in astonishment.
“Su Cen, what do you mean?!” Young Master Wang couldn’t help stepping forward. “How dare you humiliate my sister like this!”
“Miss Wang is beautiful inside and out, pure as ice and jade. I have never touched even a hair on her head. I ask everyone present to bear witness—today’s ceremony failed only because I, Su Zixu, am heartless and ungrateful. It has nothing to do with Miss Wang. If you want to beat or scold someone, come to me alone. In the future, Miss Wang may marry whomever she pleases. I hope everyone will not make things difficult for her.”
Sobbing sounds came from beneath the phoenix crown and bridal veil: “I can wait…”
Su Cen shook his head, realizing she couldn’t see him, and said: “There’s no need to wait.”
“Today I, Su Zixu, have wronged Miss Wang and deserve divine punishment and retribution,” his voice rose several notches. “Let me be cursed to die alone and have my lineage end with me!”
Everyone present gasped. Such a vicious curse was rarely spoken aloud, yet someone was using it to curse himself. Abandoning a beautiful bride within reach, earning universal scorn—what was the point?
At the high table, Su’s father slammed the table: “If you dare leave today, the Su family will have no such person as you!”
Su Cen’s gaze lowered, becoming gentler. He stepped forward and knelt down. Su’s father and mother on the high seat turned pale, unable to tell if they felt sorrow or anger. Su Cen bowed his head deeply: “Zixu is unfilial, making father and mother toil for half a lifetime, only to invite public criticism in the end.”
Straightening up again: “Today I have disgraced the family and dishonored our reputation. I acknowledge that I have no face to remain a son of the Su family. From this moment, I sever all ties with the Su family. Whether I fall into poverty or destitution in the future, it will have nothing to do with the Su family.”
“You, you…” Su’s father’s lips trembled, his hand slamming the table repeatedly. “What exactly do you want to do? Must you wade into those murky waters? Can’t we common people just live peacefully?”
Su Cen lowered his head: “If something happens to the Prince, I’m afraid these peaceful days won’t last long either.”
Su Lan stood to the side, suddenly understanding. He was deliberately making things harsh and absolute in front of these people, publicly severing ties with the Su family before everyone’s eyes.
The road to the capital ahead was fraught with danger. According to what was just said, Li Shi was charged with the grave crime of high treason. Since he was determined to go, it would be life together or death together.
He didn’t want to implicate them.
“Must you go?” Su Lan asked.
“If he’s well, I’ll do whatever you ask,” Su Cen said softly. “But if anything happens to him, I’ll accompany him through mountains of knives and seas of fire.”
Su Lan clenched and unclenched his fists, nearly grinding his teeth to powder, finally waving his hand: “Go then. I’ll handle things here.”
Su Cen bowed to him and resolutely turned to leave.
A figure in red robes rode through the alleys, past Yangzhou’s ten-li long street, racing toward Chang’an.
Compared to falling off horseback years ago, his horsemanship had improved considerably—all forced out by repeated emergencies. Now he pushed it to the extreme, barely sleeping or resting, only entering Chang’an’s city gates at dusk on the third day.
As soon as he entered the city, Zheng Yang intercepted him. Zheng Yang grasped his hands, cracked from the cold wind, too excited to speak, only repeating: “You’ve finally come.”
Su Cen frowned: “What exactly happened?”
Zheng Yang cautiously looked around, pulling Su Cen along: “Let’s talk in the carriage.”
Only after boarding the carriage did Su Cen discover it was fully stocked with food and bedding—clearly Zheng Yang had been waiting here, afraid of missing him.
“What are you wearing?” Zheng Yang eyed his red robes.
“My wedding attire.” Su Cen removed the dust-covered garments and casually grabbed one of Zheng Yang’s to put on. “Let’s talk business first. What do you mean ‘murdering the former emperor’? Didn’t the former emperor die of illness?”
Zheng Yang opened his mouth, having to suppress his questions for now: “The former emperor did indeed fall seriously ill—there are records in the Imperial Medical Bureau. But the problem arose on the day the former emperor died. An old eunuch who was changing the former emperor’s burial clothes said there was a purple bruise mark on the former emperor’s neck.”
“Uncle was the last person to see the former emperor before he died. Isn’t he implying that Uncle killed him? Plus, Uncle and the former emperor had long-standing grievances, so they’re saying Uncle was resentful about having his throne usurped years ago and personally strangled the former emperor.”
Su Cen pondered for a moment: “So these are just accusations without evidence. That old eunuch didn’t personally witness the Prince killing anyone—it could even be a frame-up. With such flimsy, insubstantial evidence, they think they can bring down a regent prince? They’re thinking too simply. Where is that old eunuch now?”
“Dead,” Zheng Yang curled his lip. “He hanged himself at home that very night. At least he was smart enough to leave himself a whole corpse—otherwise, if he’d fallen into my hands, I’d have made him wish he were dead!”
Su Cen pressed his lips: “Dead men tell no tales. It’s even harder to find evidence from a dead man’s mouth.”
Zheng Yang also fell into thought. So many years had passed, yet this old eunuch suddenly spoke up and died right after—it looked like a long-premeditated conspiracy. But the difficulty now lay precisely in this dead man telling no tales. Whether true or false, this matter had already planted a seed of doubt in everyone’s hearts. The gap would only grow wider, eventually sprouting complications.
“Regardless, this is still just one side of the story. After all, there’s no solid evidence, so there’s still room for recovery.” Su Cen thought again: “What about colluding with the Turks? I made it very clear that day—wasn’t it the former emperor who colluded with the Turks? What does it have to do with the Prince? And being detained in Xingqing Palace—the charges aren’t confirmed yet, are they? Are Qi Lin and the others just watching them cause trouble at Xingqing Palace?”
“Don’t mention Qi Lin to me,” Zheng Yang’s expression darkened. “Uncle’s troubles this time—they caused them!”
Su Cen frowned: “What do you mean?”
“Those people are just a pack of ungrateful wolves!” Zheng Yang gnashed his teeth in anger. “Back then at Buyur Lake, they didn’t actually slaughter the entire Ashina clan—they only killed the khan Tuli. The current Turkic khan Mohe is his legitimate son—Ashina Mohe.”
“Qi Lin and the others confessed?”
“They confessed everything!” Zheng Yang pounded the table, making the entire carriage shake. “Uncle treated them so well—rescued them from slave traders, never shortchanged them on food and drink, even brought them to Chang’an. Yet they turned around and bit Uncle!”
Su Cen thought for a moment, then shook his head: “I don’t believe Qi Lin and the others would betray the Prince.”
“The facts are right here—what’s there not to believe?!” Realizing his tone was harsh, Zheng Yang turned away to calm down. “They’re locked up in the imperial prison right now. If you don’t believe it, go ask them yourself. I won’t go anyway—I’m afraid I might bite them to death on the spot!”
Su Cen nodded. He definitely had to go, but with his current status, he probably couldn’t enter the imperial prison. He’d definitely need Zheng Yang to clear the way, so ultimately, Zheng Yang would have to go whether he wanted to or not.
“Where are we going?” Su Cen turned to ask.
“Into the palace,” Zheng Yang said. “The young emperor said as soon as you return, to bring you into the palace immediately.”
Su Cen looked up: “How did the young emperor know I would return?”
“You’ve been away from the capital for a year, haven’t you?”
Su Cen didn’t understand and nodded lightly.
“You don’t know—in this past year, the capital has changed tremendously, you could say it’s been turned upside down. The young emperor is no longer that child who only knew how to cry when faced with problems. He said he knew that if something happened to Uncle, you would definitely return, and that only you would dare take on this case. Sure enough, you came back.”
The most noble child under heaven had ultimately been forced to grow up.
“Oh, there’s something else I need to tell you.”
Su Cen was still pondering the case and nodded for Zheng Yang to continue.
But after speaking, Zheng Yang fell silent again. When Su Cen didn’t hear him speak, he looked up to see Zheng Yang pressing his lips together. After waiting a long while, he finally said: “Feng Yiming is dead.”
##
![Flying Dust [Fei Chen]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/9k.png "Flying Dust [Fei Chen]")
