The princess sat upright, her bright eyes sweeping across the officials, calm and unyielding like the surface of a deep lake. "Xue'er, read," she commanded, her voice soft yet carrying an unassailable authority.
At her words, a maidservant in an emerald-green dress emerged from the shadows, her steps measured and deliberate. Each soft rustle of fabric echoed in the still hall, drawing every gaze to her.
Liu Jishan's expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line as unease crept over him. His heart, steady moments before, now felt heavy and erratic.
Stopping two paces from him, Xue'er retrieved a folded document from her sleeve with a calm precision. Unfurling it, she began to read, her voice cold and clear, cutting through the tension like a blade.
"Ji Shan Liu Quan, in June of the first year of Emperor Jing, accepted bribes of 15,000 taels of silver from the merchant Qin Guangyuan in Qingliang Town, granting undue favor in the repair of Qingliang Mansion's city wall. In July of the same year, he colluded with generals from southern Xinjiang, selling classified military intelligence, including the granary's location and stock, for 40,000 taels of silver, witnessed by his entourage. In the second year of Emperor Jing, Liu Quan…"
The charges spilled forth, each one heavier than the last, detailed with a precision that left no room for ambiguity.
Liu Jishan sat frozen at first, his face pale, before sweat began to bead on his forehead. His legs buckled, and he slumped to the ground, his wide eyes darting toward Changshi Li Yan in silent plea.
Around him, the officials shifted uneasily, their earlier confidence eroded by the princess's unexpected move. Her intent was unmistakable—this was no mere accusation; it was a reckoning.
As Xue'er concluded, she calmly rolled the document back into her sleeve and stepped aside.
Liu Jishan, trembling on his knees, raised his voice in a desperate cry. "Princess, I have been wronged! This is slander—someone seeks to ruin me! It must be Wang Jingzhong's allies, exacting revenge. I beg Your Highness and His Royal Highness to investigate… please!"
The princess's gaze remained steady, her expression as unyielding as ice. Slowly, she picked up her teacup, the motion unhurried, deliberate. After a sip, she turned to Ren Ye, her cold eyes locking onto him.
"Lord Wang," she said, her tone as serene as a frozen stream, "the accusations Xue'er read are supported by witnesses and evidence. Do you believe this case should be decided here and now?"
Ren Ye, who had been silently observing, felt his heart tighten.
What did she mean by this?
When Wang Jingzhong had ended his life in the hall, she hadn't even flinched. Yet now, she wielded this damning evidence and directed it at Liu Jishan, the loudest of her opponents. Was she using him as a pawn? Or was this a deeper ploy to provoke chaos?
Instinctively, Ren Ye rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, his mind racing.
"Her Royal Highness the Princess," he said after a measured pause, his tone steady, "Liu Jishan is an important minister of the imperial court. Even if he commits a crime, he should be handed over to the Three Divisions of Kyoto for trial."
"Your Royal Highness the Princess, this matter must not be allowed!"
A dozen officials, their faces tense with deliberation, stepped forward one by one, their voices overlapping as they took turns launching verbal defenses, shielding their embattled colleague like a well-rehearsed chorus.
Liu Jishan's panic was palpable as he stumbled forward. "Your Royal Highness, someone is framing me! This must be…"
"Collaborating with the enemy and committing treason." The princess's voice, calm and measured, cut through the noise like a blade. "If these crimes reach the emperor's ears, who will dare to protect you?" Her gaze swept over the assembly, sharp as frost. "Xue'er still holds over twenty more documents in her sleeve. Shall I have her continue?"
The hall fell into a suffocating silence.
"Lord Wang," the princess continued, her tone serene yet unmistakably pointed, "can you resolve this case?" Her piercing gaze shifted to Ren Ye. Though her words seemed gentle, their undertone carried unmistakable weight, a veiled challenge. "If not, perhaps we should follow their suggestion and send the accused back to Kyoto."
Ren Ye met her gaze, his expression unflinching.
From among the officials, the prefect of Qingliang cast a sidelong glance at his peers, before curling his lips into a sneer aimed at Ren Ye.
"Brush, brush, brush..."
The shuffle of robes filled the hall as more than a dozen officials stepped forward, their accusatory glares fixed on Ren Ye.
"Your Royal Highness, Liu Quan is an official appointed by the emperor himself. Matters of life and death must be handled with the utmost care, and such decisions should be deferred to the court in Kyoto."
Another official spoke, his voice steady yet laced with menace. "Your Highness, the political climate in Qingliang Mansion is complicated. There is a possibility that thieves have framed Liu Jishan. Mishandling this could lead to imperial displeasure—and who would bear the consequences then? Whose lives might be forfeit?" His aged face, marked by decades of intrigue, stared at Ren Ye with a predatory glint.
A middle-aged official stepped forward, his face flushed with feigned indignation. "Your Highness, Qingliang Mansion stands on a knife's edge. If today's events spiral out of control, panic will grip the officials, chaos will ensue, and blood will spill in the streets. Who will shoulder such calamity?"
The tension in the hall rose like a storm ready to break. The officials, cunning as foxes, moved in unison, aiming to unseat the princess's challenge while directing their spears toward Ren Ye. They couldn't predict what cards the princess held or whether she had evidence against others among them, so no one dared to openly oppose her.
But Ren Ye?
They were all too willing to corner him. The once-favored son of a capable father now stood isolated, with no family backing him within the Daqian royal court. His lackluster reputation only emboldened their assault. As long as Ren Ye yielded, Liu Jishan could be spared.
Seated on his throne, Ren Ye surveyed the faces before him, each one a mask of cunning and malice. His gaze drifted to Wang Jingzhong's lifeless body kneeling on the cold stone floor, a stark reminder of the stakes at hand. The officials' voices—laden with threats, disguised as pleas—hammered against his ears, drawing a memory from the depths of his mind.
He remembered.
The detention center had been foreign to him, a strange city with no familiar faces, no colleagues, no family. For six months, he had endured, isolated and stripped of dignity. The cell boss, an embodiment of unchecked cruelty, had tormented him mercilessly. The reasons were always petty.
"No money at home? I'll teach you a lesson. Refused to cheat on someone's behalf? Clean the toilets. Think you're better than us? Felons will slap you awake in the dead of night until you're driven mad."
At first, Ren Ye had tolerated it, believing that compliance would lead to an early release. But he quickly learned that kindness was a currency spent in vain within those walls. Mercy was not met with gratitude but seen as weakness—a gift to be taken advantage of and revoked without warning.
One day, the cell boss would offer a small reprieve, sparing him from punishment or granting him an extra bite of food. The next, the same kindness would vanish, leaving only the raw brutality of power unchecked.