Song Yanchao seemed to have frozen, his lips parting with effort but unable to form a response to Song Yu’s accusations.
The weight of the crowd’s judgment pressed down on him—every pair of eyes burned with anger, as though he had committed some unforgivable crime.
In a burst of reckless fury, Song Yanchao snapped, shouting at Song Yu:
“How dare you say I’m unworthy to be the imperial grandson of Da Qi?”
“I could have stayed safely in the capital! If I hadn’t cared about the disaster in Laijin Prefecture, if I hadn’t worried for its people, why would I have begged His Majesty to let me come here and help?”
“And because of that, I even caught the plague!”
His voice trembled with indignation, his eyes accusing as they locked onto Song Yu. “Uncle, are you just bullying me because I’ve lost my father?”
A scoff—
Gu Mingning couldn’t help but laugh, though a sharp glance from Gu Zheng instantly wiped the amusement from his face.
He shot his father a look that said, I only laughed because Song Yanchao is an idiot.
This so-called imperial grandson was only five or six years younger than him, yet he acted like a naive fool.
Today, it was clear that Song Yu intended to punish him. Instead of admitting his mistakes, the brat was digging his own grave.
Gu Mingning’s lips curled into a smirk—he was more than happy to watch the drama unfold.
Before Song Yu could respond, Song Shihuan stepped forward, her expression the picture of innocence.
“When Laijin Prefecture was at its worst, General Gu dispatched thirty thousand elite troops to aid the relief efforts. Why didn’t you come then, Second Imperial Grandson?”
“Why did you only arrive after the flood was under control?”
Her words were a merciless slap, tearing away the facade of Song Yanchao’s supposed goodwill.
“Song Shihuan! Don’t you dare slander my intentions!”
Song Yanchao’s face flushed crimson as he roared at her. But before he could say more, Song Yu suddenly lunged forward and kicked him hard.
Song Yanchao flew backward like a ragdoll, landing a meter away.
“Who gave you the right to yell at her?”
Song Yu’s eyes darkened with fury, veins bulging on the back of his hands as memories of Song Yanchao’s past mistreatment of Song Shihuan flashed through his mind.
“You say she slandered you?”
A cold smile curled on Song Yu’s lips, making him look like a demon from hell.
“Bring in the coroner.”
Moments later, an elderly coroner was led before the crowd. After bowing to Song Yu and Song Shihuan, he addressed the people:
“I examined the first horse infected with the plague. Based on my findings, the animal had already shown symptoms a day before it was discovered—but no one noticed.”
Silence fell over the crowd.
Then, like a storm, their gazes turned toward Song Yanchao, burning with hatred.
They had taken every precaution to prevent the plague’s spread, yet this imperial grandson had treated it as a joke. If not for Song Yu and the Princess’s protection, the entire prefecture could have become a living hell.
“Is this your so-called goodwill, Song Yanchao?”
Song Yu strode forward, grabbing Song Yanchao by the collar and hauling him up. “Didn’t I warn you when you arrived? If you couldn’t handle the work, you should have crawled back to the capital!”
“I tolerated your arrogance before, but when lives were at stake, you slacked off—even spoke up for criminals?”
“Guards! Bind him and send him back to the capital. Let His Majesty deal with him.”
The crowd watched, vindicated, as Song Yanchao was tied up and forcibly escorted out of Laijin Prefecture.
......
“Father, I thought His Highness would punish Second Imperial Grandson right here in Laijin,” Yu Fan muttered, scratching his head in confusion.
“He’s being paraded through multiple prefectures in ropes. How humiliating will that be?”
Gu Zheng’s eyes darkened. Such ruthless tactics were rare for Song Yu—usually, it was Lord Shen who employed them.
And Song Yu had even arranged for soldiers and the coroner to spread the truth along the way...
What else had happened during this time?
“So Second Imperial Grandson’s reputation will be ruined?”
Realizing his bluntness, Yu Fan quickly covered his mouth.
“Worse,” Gu Mingning said, patting his shoulder. “He’s already earned the people’s hatred here. Now, with everyone praising His Highness and the Princess, how many memorials condemning Song Yanchao do you think will reach the Emperor?”
“Court politics aren’t like the battlefield. Blood doesn’t always have to be spilled to kill a man.”
The Ping Prince’s second grandson was finished.
Gu Mingning watched Song Yu and Song Shihuan walk away, his heart trembling. Is this the new master the Gu family has chosen?
A natural-born ruler, one who cherished his people.
“Father, His Highness seems... completely different now.”
“Ever since the Princess went to the Qin Prince’s Mansion, it’s like he’s been reborn.”
Gu Zheng smirked. The eldest son of the late empress, bearer of the Da Qi Crown Prince’s seal, beloved by the people—
This was the kind of master the Gu family served!
......
Three days later.
The Laijin Prefecture courthouse was packed with citizens. Seated at the front were Song Yu and Song Shihuan, their gazes cold as they looked down at Shen Qinghui and Xie Zhiyi, both barely clinging to life.
It was time to settle the score.
“Liuxi, tell everyone what ‘Lord’ Xie has been up to all these years.”
Hearing Song Yu address him as “Lord,” Xie Zhiyi shuddered in terror.
This Qin Prince was a monster. He just wanted to die.
As Liuxi listed Xie Zhiyi’s crimes—from dereliction of duty to assaulting common women—the crowd outside hurled rotten vegetables at him.
“Xie Zhiyi, with so many sins, how should I punish you?”
Song Yu tapped his chin, feigning thoughtfulness.
“I—I’m an official of Da Qi! Only the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review can judge me! Your Highness using private punishment is overstepping your authority!”
“Oh? You haven’t heard?”
Song Yu looked at him with mock pity. “His Majesty has granted me the power to execute first and report later. There’s no way I’m letting you leave Laijin alive.”
“Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you choose your own death.”
He twirled a command token between his fingers. “The more brutal your end, the easier your family’s deaths will be. So pick wisely.”
Xie Zhiyi’s eyes turned bloodshot, his entire body shaking.
“You—you’re a devil!”
“A devil!”
Song Yu ignored him, counting down lazily.
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
“I beg Your Highness—grant me death by a thousand cuts!”
