"Rank four... The Minister of the Court of Judicial Review actually plans to promote Qin Ye to Vice Minister once this murder case is solved! Damn that Qin Ye! How can he rise so quickly?" The sixteen-year-old Little Tyrant was utterly rattled.
He threw his brush onto the desk, abandoning the memorials he was supposed to review, and instead began pounding the inkstone against the table as if it were Qin Ye himself.
Watching the young emperor gnash his teeth in frustration, Prime Minister Shen cautiously reminded him, "Your Majesty, every time Qin Ye was promoted, it was approved by you..."
The Little Tyrant flushed with embarrassment and snapped, "I wasn’t paying attention to the timing! Who knew that after climbing two ranks in three years at the Hanlin Academy, he’d jump three more ranks in just two years at the Court of Judicial Review?"
Such a meteoric rise was unheard of—even for someone with powerful backing. He couldn’t help but wonder if Qin Ye was secretly the biological son of both the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review and the Minister of Personnel!
Prime Minister Shen braced himself and said, "Perhaps it’s just coincidence. Promotions at the Hanlin Academy are restricted by tenure. But in the Court of Judicial Review, solving cases quickly leads to advancement. Qin Ye is meticulous and brilliant—he earned the respect of the entire court in just two years."
Jin Cheng puffed his cheeks, his sharp eyes glinting with resentment. "Qin Ye... He must have done this on purpose. The moment his three-year term at the Hanlin Academy ended, he rushed to the Court of Judicial Review. He knew promotions were faster there!"
Among the brothers from their elite class whom he had assigned to various ministries, even the fastest-rising He Zheng was only a rank-five official.
But Qin Ye—their sworn rival, the one they had always sought to surpass—was about to become a rank-four official! And not just any rank-four, but a senior rank-four!
The gap between them was infuriatingly vast, stoking the flames of envy in his heart.
The Little Tyrant was so incensed that he almost wished he could become an official himself, just to compete with Qin Ye and see who could rise faster!
Prime Minister Shen tried to console him. "Your Majesty, there’s no need for anger. Qin Ye’s competence benefits the court and lightens your burden. This old minister believes his promotion is no bad thing—young men should be ambitious."
"Hmph!" The Little Tyrant snorted loudly, still fuming.
He picked up the memorial again and scrutinized it, then frowned. "The case isn’t even solved yet, and the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review is already asking for a promotion in advance? Isn’t that going too far?"
Shouldn’t departments wait until after a subordinate’s achievement before submitting a promotion request?
Prime Minister Shen pondered and said, "Perhaps the Minister fears that Qin Ye’s rapid ascent might be difficult for you to accept, so he’s giving you advance notice?"
"Is that so?" The Little Tyrant narrowed his eyes, sensing something amiss.
He set the memorial aside and looked toward the palace gates. "I’ll see for myself how he solves this murder case!"
---
Court of Judicial Review
Jin Cheng arrived in secret, with Buyan accompanying him openly and a team of hidden guards—arranged by his father and uncle—protecting him in the shadows. A military unit could also be summoned at a moment’s notice.
"This old minister greets Your Majesty! May the Emperor live ten thousand years!" The Minister of the Court of Judicial Review was startled by the young emperor’s sudden appearance.
"Rise." The Little Tyrant craned his neck, peering inside. "Where’s Qin Ye?"
The Minister replied, "Your Majesty, Qin Ye is still interrogating—he’s in the back hall. This minister will summon him at once."
"No need. Bring me the case files for this murder. I want to see them." The young emperor strode forward and took the main seat without hesitation.
At sixteen, his figure was tall and slender, his face still soft with youth, though the baby fat had faded. An air of authority and confidence surrounded him as he sat firmly on the high seat.
This young ruler had taken power early, and even the four most influential ministers of the court treated him with deference. The Minister of the Court of Judicial Review didn’t dare slack off, hurrying over with the case files. "Your Majesty, everything is here."
The Little Tyrant opened the file—it was a crime of passion, a family massacre with only a seven-year-old child left alive.
Victim One: Feng Sheng’s wife, Madam Wu, age 24. Drowned in the family well seven days prior, body recovered three days ago. Signs of assault were found.
Victim Two: Feng Sheng, age 25. A capable swimmer, yet three days ago, he shocked the entire city by leaping to his death from a crowded bridge.
With his wife’s unjust death and his own public suicide, the case quickly escalated and was handed to the Court of Judicial Review.
The Minister explained, "Your Majesty, our investigation has identified a primary suspect—Sun Liang. Before Madam Wu married Feng Sheng, she was betrothed to Sun Liang. After her marriage, Sun Liang never wed, making him a suspect in a crime of passion."
"So you’re saying Sun Liang raped and killed Madam Wu?" The Little Tyrant snapped the file shut and glared. "Then Feng Sheng, lacking evidence and unable to seek justice, killed himself publicly to force the court’s attention?"
The Minister swallowed nervously. "That’s the current theory, but we haven’t finalized the conclusion yet."
The Little Tyrant’s face darkened. "No conclusion, yet you sent me a memorial?"
This made him question the Minister’s competence.
The Minister stammered, "It—it was Qin Ye’s idea. He said he was worried Your Majesty might resent his rapid promotions, so he asked this old minister to inform you in advance."
"Qin Ye said that?" The Little Tyrant’s frown deepened.
Something wasn’t right.
From what he knew of Qin Ye, that insufferable man was always focused on his work, never scheming for promotions. The arrogant bastard believed that as long as he excelled, recognition would follow naturally.
Jin Cheng turned sharply. "Is Qin Ye interrogating Sun Liang?"
The Minister scratched his head. "No... Qin Ye is questioning the sole survivor—the child."
"Feng Sheng’s son?" Jin Cheng stood. "Take me to them."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The Minister led him to the back hall.
The child, Feng Xiaoyuan, was too young for formal court proceedings, so Qin Ye was speaking with him privately in a room, with all attendants dismissed.
The Little Tyrant waved off his entourage. "All of you, leave. Buyan and I will go alone."
The Minister and his men withdrew.
Jin Cheng turned to Buyan. "How do I walk quietly so they don’t hear? I’m too old for you to carry me now, right?"
His eager gaze suggested the next words would be, Maybe you could just carry me on your back? Buyan swiftly cut him off. "Qin Ye isn’t trained in martial arts. There’s no need to sneak—they won’t hear us."
Jin Cheng brightened. "Brilliant as always, Buyan! Quick thinking!"
Buyan internally groaned. Of course. If I hesitated, I’d be stuck hauling you around like a pack mule.
Jin Cheng tiptoed forward, but before he reached the door, Qin Ye’s icy voice cut through the air:
"Feng Sheng... you killed him, didn’t you?"
Jin Cheng: "!!!"
Buyan: "???"
They distinctly remembered the Minister saying Qin Ye was speaking with Feng Xiaoyuan—a seven-year-old child.
A small, bewildered voice answered from inside: "Huh? Brother Qin Ye, what are you talking about? How could I kill my own father? I’m just a kid!"
Qin Ye continued, "The death of the Wu family was caused by Sun Liang. But on the day Feng Sheng died, he had just left the academy. Sun Liang was dozens of miles away—the only person present was you."
"That was because my father had exhausted all avenues for justice and wanted his death to shock the city, to force your Dali Temple to take the case seriously. Brother, he took his own life—that was even your own deduction," the little boy reminded him in a clear, bright voice.
"There were signs of struggle after Feng Sheng fell into the water."
"Anyone would panic before death," Feng Xiaoyuan replied.
"And that’s exactly why you killed him."
Feng Xiaoyuan paused for a moment before smiling at him. "Brother Qin Ye, I heard you topped the Childhood Scholar exams at just nine years old—the idol of every student in the capital. I’m taking the Childhood Scholar exams this year too. Do you think I’ll score higher than you?"
