“My father?”
Shen Qingzhu looked at Li Ze, whose wrist she still held firmly.
“Li Zhushi, you’ve studied, so you should understand reason better than I. Let me ask you: was it Prince An who sent my father to the imperial prison?”
Li Ze froze, instinctively retorting, “Of course not! It was the Jinyiwei!”
“Then,” Shen Qingzhu’s tone remained calm, “was it Prince An’s heir who drafted the charges, reported them to the throne, and ultimately caused my father’s wrongful death?”
“It… it was those treacherous ministers in the court who took advantage of the situation!” Li Ze’s forehead beaded with sweat, feeling as though the bones in his wrist were about to be crushed.
“Oh?” Shen Qingzhu’s tone lifted slightly at the end. “Then, was it this person in the prison carriage who raided your home, raided mine, and drove all of us here like livestock?”
In the dungeon, the prisoners who had been echoing and shouting gradually fell silent.
Indeed…
They hated Prince An, hated Zhao Jingzhan, but looking back, from their arrest to the confiscation of property and exile, they had never even seen Zhao Jingzhan.
The ones who truly held the slaughterer’s knife to their necks were the Jinyiwei in fish-patterned uniforms, the high-ranking judicial officials, and the cold imperial edict.
Shen Qingzhu’s fingers finally loosened on Li Ze’s wrist.
She raised her hand, not toward the carriage, but toward the dungeon entrance, where a few officers stood with arms crossed, looking on with amused expressions.
“Your enemies are there.”
“They hold the knives, wear the official robes, and freely enjoy the wealth and labor seized from us. They just lashed your companions with whips and insulted your wives and daughters in the vilest terms.”
“You dare not look at them, dare not curse them, not even allow yourself a spark of hatred.”
Shen Qingzhu’s gaze swept slowly across Li Ze’s pale face and then across all the “respectable” people around him who dared anger but not speak.
“You only dare to vent all your resentment and impotence on prisoners who are just as, or even more, miserable than yourselves.”
“Li Ze,” she said finally, looking at him word by word, “you do not hate. You are… weak.”
“You—!”
Li Ze, provoked by the last two words, raised his fist and swung it recklessly at Shen Qingzhu’s face!
At the moment the punch came, Shen Qingzhu slightly sidestepped. Her right hand shot out like lightning, precisely catching the center of his fist, while her left foot lightly tripped him without leaving a trace.
Bang!
Li Ze lost all balance, carried forward by his own momentum, and fell miserably to the ground, landing perfectly in a puddle of dirty water spilled from a water pouch, mud splashing across his face.
Silence fell over the room.
The seemingly delicate young master of the Shen family… could fight? And with such precise skill!
“Stop!”
The chief officer, who had been watching coldly, finally spoke.
He limped forward, followed by several officers wielding fire-and-water staves, eyes fierce.
“Daring to fight in the dungeon? Have you all lost your patience with life?!”
The chief officer’s harsh gaze swept across everyone, finally landing on Shen Qingzhu.
Shen Qingzhu didn’t even look at him. She merely looked down from above at Li Ze, trembling on the ground, her voice cold and devoid of warmth.
“Remember my words. If you target the wrong enemy, your anger is worthless.”
With that, she turned and walked slowly back to her family along the path that everyone automatically cleared for her.
Inside the prison carriage, Zhao Jingzhan’s gaze followed her back until she was surrounded by her family.
Interesting.
Truly… an interesting person.
Beside him, the grey-robed monk, Hui Ren, who had been sitting with eyes closed, slowly opened them.
For the first time, there was a trace of doubt in his normally steady eyes.
The emperor… is he truly a wise ruler?
Exiling these officials’ families—some guilty, many innocent—in such brutal fashion… was it really to demonstrate the mandate of heaven, and not… for profit or venting anger?
…
“Zhu’er… are you… all right?”
Lin Shi grabbed Shen Qingzhu’s hand, her voice trembling.
“I’m fine, Mother.” Shen Qingzhu gently patted her hand, her gaze, however, casually sweeping over every person in the dungeon.
The chief officer dragged Li Ze out, whether as punishment or appeasement, no one knew.
The atmosphere in the dungeon became even more strange.
No one dared approach the carriage, nor shout curses.
She sat by her family, using her body to shield them from view, while her mind raced.
Something was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
She calmly replayed the events: the emperor had painstakingly mixed Prince An’s heir, Zhao Jingzhan—the biggest target—with these families of so-called “guilty” officials, clearly intending something. This was no ordinary exile. Using Zhao Jingzhan as bait, the emperor aimed to lure out the remaining loyalists of Prince An hidden in the shadows and eliminate them all at once.
Thus, this seemingly ordinary convoy must be filled with imperial eyes and backup measures. Her original plan—to escape with her family from the first post station under cover of night—now seemed like walking straight into a trap. Eyes, unknown in number, were surely watching both inside and outside the station. Any sudden move could invite disaster.
They could not leave.
At least, not now.
Until she understood how large this net was, how many fish it held, and… who the fisherman was, she could not act recklessly.
Shen Qingzhu took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing all anxiety. She realized the immediate priority had shifted from “escape” to “identification.” She needed intelligence, abundant intelligence, to discern who were the real prisoners and who were spies mixed in.
She turned to her equally uneasy grandmother, Shen Laofuren. Her eyes, in the dim firelight, were unusually bright and calm.
“Grandmother.”
Her voice was low, but carried an undeniable authority.
“You’ve lived in the capital for decades, interacting with these official families and ladies, haven’t you?”
Shen Laofuren was taken aback, not understanding why her granddaughter suddenly asked, but she instinctively nodded. “Yes… we’ve had some dealings.”
“Good.” Shen Qingzhu’s gaze swept across the dungeon, over those seated or lying.
“From now on, tell me everything you know about those familiar faces—their family background, character, and the reason for their punishment.
“Every single one. Don’t leave anything out.”