Qin Yunduan shook his head. “Princess Xing’an and I were sitting out front talking the whole time. The altar was behind the folding screen. She never went in.”
Yan Tongshu asked, “Did you smell any incense at the time?”
Qin Yunduan shook his head again.
Yan Tongshu fixed him with a sharp, piercing stare.
Either Qin Yunduan was lying. Perhaps the princess had lit the incense while speaking with him; afterward, he had killed her, and now, under Yan Tongshu’s questioning, he had realized the implications and was flatly denying it—though he did not know exactly how long the incense took to burn.
Or Princess Xing’an had lit the incense after Qin Yunduan left.
But it took six hours for the incense to burn down completely. Counting backward from the timeline, the moment Princess Xing’an must have lit it was precisely when she had been speaking with Qin Yunduan.
The two accounts contradicted each other.
Yan Tongshu’s brows drew together sharply. “Does anyone corroborate what you’ve said?”
Qin Yunduan opened his mouth, then shook his head blankly.
He had been alone. Where was he supposed to find a witness?
Yan Tongshu pressed on. “When you came to the Duting Posthouse, didn’t you bring a servant with you?”
At that, Qin Yunduan looked even more aggrieved. “I did at first. But on the first day after moving in, Princess Xing’an and I had an argument. Well, it was hardly an argument. She was unhappy about the marriage alliance and resented having two men from Wuchao staying in her courtyard—especially in rooms so close to hers. She was upset and took it out on me. We exchanged a few words. I couldn’t bear the humiliation, so I sent my servant home. At least with one fewer man around, it sounded a little less improper.”
Princess Xing’an was a woman. In order to make the marriage alliance happen, Chancellor Yelu had privately arranged for two unrelated men to live beside the chambers of an unmarried young woman. It was like a modern-day failed blind date, only for the parents to move the man into the family home without their daughter’s consent—and put him in the room next door. Anyone in their right mind would be driven mad.
Qin Yunduan had been a perfectly cheerful, simple-minded young man who spent his days grinning foolishly. Yet Prince Wuyang’s pressure to force him into marriage had left him dazed and nearly driven him insane.
Princess Xing’an must have been in much the same state of mind.
The sorrow Yan Tongshu had struggled to suppress throughout the journey suddenly surged up and overflowed.
She could not help thinking that, without the marriage alliance—without this absurd arrangement—perhaps Princess Xing’an would not have died.
Peace was what the people of both nations longed for after suffering the ravages of war.
Why did such a historic mission have to be accomplished through something as bizarre as a marriage alliance?
Everyone clearly wanted peace.
If that was the case, why could they not simply act like two normal countries—sign an agreement, seek peace, and pursue mutually beneficial cooperation?
Yan Tongshu was silent for a moment before continuing her questions. “Chancellor Yelu forced you and Princess Xing’an to cultivate feelings for one another. Do you think he truly wanted you to marry the princess?”
Qin Yunduan’s face was filled with confusion. “What do you mean?”
Yan Tongshu shook her head.
There were too many coincidences. Much of the evidence in the room pointed to Qin Yunduan, and he had no witness to support his account.
Then, just two days before the murder, Chancellor Yelu had arranged for him to move into the room next to the princess’s courtyard.
She dared not let down her guard. She could only treat everyone as a suspect.
Having gotten nothing more from Qin Yunduan, Yan Tongshu stepped down from the carriage. A blast of cold wind struck her, and she could not help but shiver.
At that moment, Commander Duan Duo of the Divine Guard rode over. Spotting Yan Tongshu, he curled his lips into a cruel smile. “Everyone knows that the upright Magistrate Yan seeks nothing but the truth. This general will be watching closely this time—to see whether the upright Magistrate Yan can continue to uphold her principles as she always has.”
Yan Tongshu did not rise to Duan Duo’s provocation. She merely turned slightly and looked at him.
She kept looking at him.
A prickle of unease crept over Duan Duo. The smile faded from his face. “What are you staring at?”
“There’s snow on your face.” Yan Tongshu lifted her gaze. The first snow had fallen only last night, and now it had begun to snow again.
Yan Tongshu drew a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs.
“Meng Zheng,” she said slowly. “Come here for a moment.”
Meng Zheng did as she asked. The two of them moved to an unoccupied spot nearby. With the case pressing, Yan Tongshu went straight to the point.
“Investigate Duan Duo.”
Meng Zheng’s temple throbbed. “You think there’s something wrong with him?”
Yan Tongshu explained calmly, “Everyone knows that radical followers of the Celestial God Sect murdered Princess Xing'an and left behind a letter of warning, demanding that Northern Liao and our court not make peace. But just now, Duan Duo said he wanted to see whether I could hold to my principles.”
With that single observation from Yan Tongshu, Meng Zheng immediately understood.
“If it was the work of radical followers of the Celestial God Sect, then it is an internal matter for Northern Liao. It has nothing to do with our court, and the peace negotiations would not be affected. Only if the truth could affect the negotiations would he believe it might cause unrest—might shake Magistrate Yan’s convictions and make her afraid to reveal it.”
Meng Zheng, too, turned to look at Duan Duo.
Since the crime had been discovered, the Divine Guard had surrounded the diplomatic inn in layer upon layer. Duan Duo and Meng Zheng had each been stationed outside one of its two exits.
As a precaution, Lord Chang had entrusted Qin Yunduan to Meng Zheng’s custody, not Duan Duo’s.
Duan Duo did not know who was inside the carriage.
In other words, he should not have known the details of the case.
Lord Chang had not even told Meng Zheng much else. He had only asked him to look after the Qin heir for the time being, never using the word “detain.”
Even Meng Zheng did not know what Qin Yunduan had to do with the case.
Yet Duan Duo knew.
“I understand.” Meng Zheng pressed his lips together. “I’ll assign someone to keep watch on him.”
Then he withdrew his gaze and looked at Yan Tongshu. “Magistrate Yan, from what you just said… could Princess Xing'an’s death be connected to the Qin heir—”
“I don’t know.” Yan Tongshu’s gaze was steady. “The clues we have now point only to two sides: the radical followers of the Celestial God Sect, and Qin Yunduan. But no one knows whether another hidden force is involved. After all, there are many people, within both our court and Northern Liao, who wish to sabotage the peace negotiations.”
“Magistrate Yan,” Meng Zheng said quietly.
Yan Tongshu looked at him. “Yes?”
Meng Zheng met her eyes, his voice sincere and solemn. “This time, the next time—no matter how many times, no matter what happens—I will stand by your side. Whatever the truth may be, I will always believe in you.”
Yan Tongshu smiled. She raised her hand, and Meng Zheng lifted his. Their palms met in a light clap.
A gentleman’s promise was a vow for life.
Not even a thousand pieces of gold could sway it; not even a team of four horses could take it back.
Back at the Duting Posthouse, Chancellor Yelu pressed for answers again. Chang Zhengzhang and the Minister of State Affairs, worried that Yan Tongshu might say something detrimental to the peace negotiations, became all the more cautious.
Yan Tongshu said helplessly, exhausted, “Chancellor Yelu, I’m human, not a god. I can’t uncover the truth all at once. If you insist on an answer, then I can only say that everyone outside the door last night is a suspect. But among those who have surfaced so far, the Heavenly God Sect and the Qin heir are the most suspicious.”
The Minister of State Affairs immediately grew anxious.
Since she was not certain, why mention the Qin heir?
Wouldn’t it have been better simply to leave him out of it?
Yan Tongshu added, “Chancellor Yelu, I pledge on the reputation of the Kaifeng Prefecture that we will do everything in our power to apprehend the culprit. Please be patient a little longer.”
Afraid that Yan Tongshu might make further remarks harmful to the peace talks, Chang Zhengzhang hurriedly cut in. “Lord Yan, this matter is of the utmost importance. Please accompany me to the palace and report it to His Majesty.”
Yan Tongshu nodded.
Before leaving, she instructed Zhang Jiu to obtain an overall layout map of the Duting Posthouse from the Ministry of Works.
…
On the way to the palace, Chang Zhengzhang invited Yan Tongshu to ride in the same carriage as him.
Inside, they sat facing one another.
After considerable thought, Chang Zhengzhang slowly spoke. “Lord Yan.”
Yan Tongshu raised her eyes to look at him.
Chang Zhengzhang said, “Lord Yan, Princess Xing’an’s death concerns the peace negotiations between our two countries. The people along the border have suffered terribly from war. If these talks fail and fighting resumes, the borderlands will once again be devastated—countless lives lost, blood flowing like rivers. I know you to be a person of high principles, upright and incorruptible, but matters cannot always be judged purely by right and wrong. At times, one must also consider the greater consequences.”
“Why?” Yan Tongshu voiced the question deepest in her heart.
Chang Zhengzhang continued trying to persuade her. “Lord Yan, it would be best if Princess Xing’an died at the hands of the Liao people. Otherwise, hundreds of thousands of people at the border will be displaced from their homes.”
“So why?” Yan Tongshu asked again.
She truly did not understand.
Chang Zhengzhang frowned. “What do you mean by that, Lord Yan?”
Yan Tongshu fixed her gaze on him. “Why must everything be interpreted through the lens of conspiracy? Lord Chang, I don’t understand. No matter how I think about it, I simply don’t understand.”
“Lord Yan, you are still young. There are many things in this world that cannot be reduced to right or wrong—” Chang Zhengzhang tried to reason with her, but Yan Tongshu interrupted with another question.
“And then what? Yes, there are many gray areas in this world—just like illicit businesses. But Princess Xing’an’s death… why must it be handled as a conspiracy?”
Chang Zhengzhang still did not understand Yan Tongshu’s anger.
Yan Tongshu drew a deep breath. “Lord Chang, are King of Liao and Empress Dowager Xiao human beings? Tell me—are they human? Just now, Chancellor Yelu said that Princess Xing’an was his niece, that he had watched her grow up. Sending her away in marriage had been a last resort, but he still loved and cared for her. I believe he was telling the truth. I also believe that King of Liao and Empress Dowager Xiao loved Princess Xing’an. It was simply that, in the face of interests and the greater political situation, that love was sacrificed.”
“Then tell me this: if the King of Liao and Empress Dowager Xiao truly loved Princess Xing'an so much that they would sacrifice the greater good for her, why would they deceive her into coming here for a political marriage? And if their love for Princess Xing'an could not outweigh the greater good, why would her death affect the peace negotiations? Isn’t that a contradiction?”
Chang Zhengzhang explained, “When two states are at war, envoys are not to be killed. Princess Xing'an was an envoy for the peace talks; on Wu territory, she represented Liao itself. If she died at the hands of our people, it would be a contemptuous insult and humiliation to Liao. The people of Northern Liao would never accept such humiliation. They would rather die in battle than make peace with a country that had killed their princess.”
“So why must we view everything through conspiracy theories?”
Yan Tongshu had truly had enough.
Ever since she had entered the Diplomatic Residence, everyone had been using conspiracy theories to explain everything.
Yan Tongshu asked, “Lord Chang, are the King of Liao and Empress Dowager Xiao human beings? Are the people of Northern Liao human beings? In your eyes, are they human? So long as they are human, they possess a basic sense of right and wrong, of good and evil; they have ordinary feelings. Only machines and puppets would be utterly devoid of emotion—brainless fools whose minds have been consumed by conspiracies, seeing plots and calculations in everything. If others use schemes against us, must we play their game and answer conspiracy with conspiracy?
“The people of Northern Liao are human too. Lord Chang, if it were you—if your daughter had gone to Northern Liao as an envoy for peace and died there, and Northern Liao, for the sake of peace talks, resorted to every possible trick, concealed the truth, and allowed the murderer to go free—would you believe that they truly wished for peace? Could you calmly accept such an outcome without feeling the slightest humiliation?”
Yan Tongshu pressed her lips together and said, “If I were a person of Northern Liao—if I were Princess Xing'an’s friend or family—I would hope that His Majesty, the Emperor of Wu, would respect my feelings for Princess Xing'an and respect my basic intelligence. I would hope he would uncover who killed Princess Xing'an, bring the murderer to justice, and give me a result that was fair, impartial, and public—a result that would convince me, the people of Northern Liao, Empress Dowager Xiao, the King of Liao, and Chancellor Yelu.
“If we have done wrong, then we should correct it. If we have made a mistake, then we should set it right. If someone wants to use a conspiracy to sabotage the peace talks, we can defeat every plot openly and honorably with the truth. Why must we use one conspiracy to conceal another? Lord Chang, tell me. I truly don’t understand.”
Chang Zhengzhang opened his mouth, then said nothing.
Yan Tongshu’s way of thinking was so simple and direct that it was almost brutal.
And yet, many truths in this world were simple.
Like eating when one was hungry, drinking when one was thirsty.
If one was wrong, one should make amends.
It took two chopsticks to pick up food.
Truths were simple, direct, even blunt.
The simpler they were, the purer—and the more correct.
But...
“The human heart is hidden beneath the skin,” Chang Zhengzhang said with a bitter smile. “Lady Yan, everything you say is right. How could I not know it myself? But that is precisely the problem. No one can truly know what lies in another’s heart. What is more, Northern Liao and our dynasty are separated by thousands of miles. Our two nations have fought for more than a decade, and their grievances run deep.”
The logic is simple enough, but the human heart is unfathomable. Even if the murderer truly is one of our people, and we hand him over, will Empress Dowager Xiao and the King of Liao believe us? Will they believe that the person we surrender is the real culprit? Will they believe that the case unfolded as we tell it?
Will the people of Liao believe it? Will they believe that the detestable Wu Dynasty—the enemy that has fought them for more than a decade, killed their wives, husbands, sons, parents, and friends—is not deliberately provoking and humiliating them? Will they believe this is not the Wu Dynasty, relying on the sheer size of its realm and the strength of its armies, wantonly insulting them? Lord Yan, if you were from Northern Liao, I believe you would accept it, because you can read, you have received an education, and you understand right and wrong, black and white.
But what of Northern Liao? Nearly eighty percent of its people follow the Cult of the Heavenly God. Fewer than one in twenty can read. Never mind how ignorant and unenlightened many of them are. Let us speak only of the human heart. In this world, ten thousand people will have ten thousand different thoughts. Even among husbands and wives who share a bed, how many can trust one another without the slightest suspicion? It is not that I wish to view everything through the lens of conspiracy. People simply do not trust one another by nature; they are more willing to believe in conspiracies.”
This time, Yan Tongshu fell silent.
There were many things Yan Tongshu might not have agreed with, but he could not ignore that one statement: that the heart is hidden within the belly, and that people do not trust one another by nature.
Trust had always been an age-old problem.
Especially in this era, when people could not simply make a call after something happened and talk things through. With such vast distances and such an enormous gap in information, the slightest misunderstanding could easily lead to catastrophe.
Compared with modern times, trust was far more costly to build, yet it could collapse in an instant.
Even in the modern world, compared with sincerity, justice, and kindness, conspiracy theories would always find a greater market.
People were more inclined to believe in conspiracies.
Truth, goodness, and beauty were false. When conspiracies emerged, when darkness appeared, countless people would sigh and say: this was the real world.
All that was good was an illusion; only ugliness was real.
Just as there would always be people tirelessly adding endless conspiratorial speculations to the legendary bond between Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang, as though only then would that fairy-tale story conform to the logic of reality.
Just as there would always be people who believed that alliances of interest were the strongest bonds in the world.
Prince Ming believed so as well, which was why he surrounded himself with tangled webs of interests.
Once faith, justice, truth, and fairness—everything of that kind—were cast aside, these relationships of interest became a dark-forest battle for survival. Everything became a Rashomon. When trust no longer existed, all that remained was temporary concealment for the sake of profit, and blades held ready at all times. In the end, there was nothing left but life or death.
Earl of Yuguo, Ning Yuan, and Wang Quan'an were just such a case. They were the most solid of alliances of interest, yet they were also players in that battle for survival—always ready to stab one another in the back, always prepared to be stabbed in return. They had united purely for profit, and at their core they trusted one another not at all. None of them could be sure that, for a greater gain, the others might not one day drive a knife into his back.
Earl of Yuguo said he had not done it. Ning Yuan said the same. But Wang Quan'an would never believe them.
And that was precisely the question Chang Zhengzhang had asked her: Would Northern Liao believe?
The two nations had yet to establish a truly smooth channel of communication, let alone genuine trust. Their relationship remained fragile.
Yan Tongshu was silent for a long time before she said, “But peace talks are what the people of both countries want, aren’t they?”
People were complex enough—and simple enough.
The human heart was both the most fragile thing and the most steadfast.
And at last, she understood something.
She understood why the King of Liao, Empress Dowager Xiao, and Chancellor Yelu had been so determined to force Princess Xing'an into a political marriage and keep her in Bianjing.
Because only through such a marriage could Princess Xing'an remain in Bianjing with proper justification.
She was both a hostage and a touchstone.
Northern Liao and Great Wu had fought for years and severed diplomatic relations for just as long. There was no trust between them whatsoever.
That was why Northern Liao needed Princess Xing'an to remain in Bianjing: she would serve as a test of Great Wu’s attitude toward Northern Liao.
The better Great Wu treated Princess Xing'an in Bianjing, the more it showed that Great Wu’s desire to preserve peace with Northern Liao had not changed.
Should unrest arise in the capital, Princess Xing'an—being in Great Wu’s capital—would be among the first to sense how the people and officials of Great Wu regarded her, and she could send word back to Northern Liao. Northern Liao could likewise judge Great Wu’s current attitude toward Liao by the treatment she received in Bianjing.
Of course, if Great Wu decided to go to war, Princess Xing'an would be the first blood offered to the banners.
Yan Tongshu could not help sighing inwardly.
This way of sustaining trust was far too fragile—and far too unreliable.
Once she understood this, Yan Tongshu also understood why Chancellor Yelu had continually pressured Princess Xing'an, and the calculations behind inviting Qin Yunduan into the Diplomatic Residence.
The suspicions surrounding Chancellor Yelu diminished considerably.
Yan Tongshu said, “Since it is the shared wish of the people of both nations, then I am willing to believe that the will of the people is the strongest alliance in the world.”
Chang Zhengzhang shook his head and sighed. “Minister Yan, you are too naïve. Reality does not work that way.”
Neither could persuade the other. In the end, Chang Zhengzhang could only place his hopes in Qin Yi.
The two soon arrived at Chui Gong Hall and, one after the other, reported all the information they had gathered so far.
The matter was of great importance, and Qin Yi’s expression was grave.
Chang Zhengzhang reported in a ringing voice, “Your Majesty, this case must be investigated. Not only investigated, but investigated thoroughly and prudently, so that we may give Northern Liao a reasonable explanation. But the culprit in this case must never be one of our own.”
Qin Yi did not answer at once. His dark gaze settled heavily on Yan Tongshu. “Does Minister Yan have anything else to say?”
Yan Tongshu bowed. “This minister has said all that should be said, all that can be said. How matters proceed is for Your Majesty to decide.”
Chang Zhengzhang also said, “May Your Majesty decide.”
Qin Yi continued to look at Yan Tongshu. “Once I have decided, will you both obey?”
Chang Zhengzhang bowed. “This subject shall obey Your Majesty’s every command.”
Yan Tongshu said nothing. Inwardly, she muttered, That depends.
Staring at the stubborn back of Yan Tongshu’s bowed head, Qin Yi silently wondered whether she was cursing him again in her heart.
Qin Yi’s voice was low and resolute. “You both have valid points.”
Chang Zhengzhang looked at Qin Yi.
“The peace talks must not be affected.” He set the tone first, then shifted abruptly. “But—”
Qin Yi declared in a ringing voice, “Peace talks without trust—even if a treaty is signed—are nothing more than a scrap of paper. All it would take is for someone to stir up trouble along the border, and conflict between the two countries could easily be ignited, leading to war. Any peace would be merely an illusion, fleeting and fragile. Therefore, peace negotiations are not just about the negotiations themselves. What matters most is trust. Only genuine trust can carry the shared feelings and hopes of the people of both nations.”
Chang Zhengzhang’s heart pounded, and a vague premonition began to take shape. “Your Majesty means...?”
“We will begin with this case and build a true bridge of trust between our two countries.” Qin Yi raised his voice slightly. “Yan Tongshu.”
Yan Tongshu stepped forward. “This subject is here.”
Qin Yi’s voice was majestic and inviolable. “As of today, I appoint you chief investigator of the case involving Princess Xing’an at the Duting Post Station. You will have full authority over the investigation. The Divine Strategy Army and the Divine Guard Army are both at your disposal. As Minister Chang has said, you must not only investigate, but investigate openly, candidly, and without concealment, together with the Northern Liao delegation. Leave no detail unchecked. Make certain this case is investigated thoroughly and clearly, until no doubts remain. Then hand over the final case files, clues, evidence, findings, and the culprit to Northern Liao for them to deal with personally. Let Northern Liao see the sincerity of our court and understand our determination to pursue peace.”
“Yes!” Yan Tongshu’s voice was clear and resolute.
Chang Zhengzhang opened his mouth. A thousand words churned in his chest. He had expected them to congeal into fear and unease, yet they did not.
Instead, a surge of emotion suddenly rose within him, setting his blood aflame.
The sovereign he had taught as Crown Prince, now nearly two years into his reign, had finally revealed the vision and extraordinary talent of a true ruler.
He had not been misled by any person or circumstance. He had seen what none of them had seen.
From a loftier vantage and with a far more distant view, he had grasped the true path to peace.
Chang Zhengzhang smiled and bowed. “Yes, this subject obeys Your Majesty’s decree.”
After Chang Zhengzhang left, Qin Yi rose from the dragon throne. His gaze fixed unblinkingly on Yan Tongshu as he walked toward her side.
“Raise your head.”
Yan Tongshu looked up.
Qin Yi suppressed the smile tugging at his lips and asked with a stern face, “Were you cursing me as a damned emperor in your heart again just now?”
“Why would I curse you?” Yan Tongshu asked in surprise.
She hadn’t?
Qin Yi’s eyes filled with astonishment. “You didn’t doubt me just now?”
“Qin Yi.” Yan Tongshu lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “I did doubt you.”
Seeing that Qin Yi was about to speak, Yan Tongshu immediately added, “But don’t get angry yet.”
Qin Yi raised a brow, waiting for her to continue.
