Baili Jun turned to Qingluan. “Qingluan!”
“Your servant is here!”
“You will carry my handwritten secret order and rush to the residence of Jiang Hui. Deliver this letter to him. Tell him: seven days from now, at the Grand Court Assembly, I want to see the contents of the Luoyan Slope mines appear intact outside the Meridian Gate! If he fails, he can await the imperial prison alongside the Crown Prince!”
She handed Qingluan the sealed letter.
The letter not only revealed the hiding place of the stolen silver, but also named the Third Prince’s men as its guardians—hinting that Jiang Hui could seize it under the pretext of “confiscating embezzled military funds.”
Why entrust Jiang Hui with this task?
Baili Jun was not naïve enough to believe in true “righteousness” at court.
But Jiang Hui was useful. First, he was personally promoted by Emperor Yongming as Commander of the Northern Inspectorate, charged with secret investigations and the imperial prison. He took no sides, loyal only to the throne. Both the Crown Prince and the Third Prince had tried to win him over, but failed. Such a man would never risk covering up treason for any prince. For self‑preservation and merit, he would present ironclad evidence directly to the emperor.
Second, Jiang Hui had an old tie to the Xiao family. Eight years ago, when a northern military report was intercepted, nearly causing disaster, it was her uncle Xiao Yan who defended Jiang Hui—then only a minor officer.
Though Jiang Hui never spoke of it, each year the Inspectorate “coincidentally” released a few of Xiao’s old retainers from prison.
Baili Jun did not expect gratitude, but she knew: in matters not touching life and death, Jiang Hui leaned toward the Xiao family.
Third—and most important—Jiang Hui was clever. He could see the Crown Prince was at the end of his rope, and that Baili Jun, who held such evidence, must have deeper plans behind her. A wise man would not choose the wrong side once the outcome was clear.
“He will not dare refuse,” Baili Jun said calmly. “Tell him: if he succeeds, the Inspectorate will gain merit in supporting the rightful ruler. If he fails…
If I can uncover the Crown Prince’s secrets, I can uncover anyone’s.”
This was not trust—it was the inevitability of calculated interests.
“Yes!” Qingluan bowed solemnly.
“Also,” Baili Jun’s gaze sharpened like a blade, “send word to Qinglan. If Jiang Hui’s men are obstructed, or if the Third Prince’s men attempt to move or destroy the silver… kill them without hesitation! Ensure that silver appears where it must, seven days hence!”
“Yes!” Qingdai and Qingluan answered resolutely, disappearing at once.
Baili Jun stood alone in the study, drawing a deep breath. Outside, the night was ink‑dark, dawn approaching. She could hear her own heartbeat—steady, powerful—burning with the fire of vengeance and the strength to seize destiny.
Seven days later, the Grand Court Assembly. The atmosphere was heavier, more oppressive than usual.
On the dragon throne, Emperor Yongming’s face was so dark it seemed to drip with storm.
Below, the Crown Prince stood at the head. His eyes were shadowed, his fists clenched, fingertips trembling despite his forced composure—betraying the tempest within.
The Third Prince looked weary and brooding, drained by the Crown Prince’s relentless counterattacks. His gaze toward the Crown Prince was filled with undisguised hatred.
Soon, the court session began.
“Your Majesty!” Minister of Justice Fan Bingjun stepped forward, voice resounding. “I have a memorial to present. Regarding the three cases of embezzled military funds, framing of loyal officials, and leaked defense maps—after days of joint investigation with the High Court and the Censorate, we have made significant progress! However, the key witness Sun Yun‑guang died suddenly in the imperial prison. The crucial records of the Ministry of Revenue were deliberately burned, cutting off vital leads. Furthermore, Deputy General Zheng Bin of the northern army died ‘accidentally’ before he could be escorted back to the capital. The investigation is at an impasse! I humbly beg Your Majesty for guidance!”
At these words, the hall fell silent.
Everyone knew—this was the sword truly hanging above their heads.
The Crown Prince’s heart clenched. Could the Ministry of Justice have discovered Youzhou? Impossible! The silver hadn’t been found yet! He forced himself to remain calm.
The Third Prince stood in the front row, eyes lowered in apparent respect. Yet the tight line of his mouth betrayed a faint, hidden sense of relief.
Zheng Bin’s death had been timely.
Emperor Yongming’s face was dark as water. His fingers tapped unconsciously on the armrest of the dragon throne, gaze sweeping over the ministers below—scrutinizing, weary—finally settling on Fan Bingjun.
“Minister Fan, the trail has broken. Does that mean the investigation cannot continue?” The emperor’s tone carried displeasure and authority.
Sweat beaded on Fan Bingjun’s forehead as he prepared to plead guilty.
At that moment, the ceremonial eunuch outside cried loudly: “Princess Zhaohua requests audience—”
The entire court froze.
All eyes turned toward the grand hall’s doors.
There stood Princess Zhaohua, clad in crimson palace robes, radiating an aura of solemn majesty that brooked no defiance. In her hands, she carried a purple sandalwood box, stepping steadily into the throne hall.
The Crown Prince’s pupils shrank the instant he saw the box. A chill surged from his feet to his crown. Why was she here?! What was she holding?!
The Third Prince too stared in shock, unease rising sharply in his chest.
“Zhaohua?” Emperor Yongming frowned, surprised. “I ordered you confined, not to leave your manor without imperial summons. Do you know your crime?”
Baili Jun advanced to the steps before the throne, kneeling respectfully.
“Your daughter knows her guilt. Yet this matter concerns the foundation of the realm, the safety of the border, and thus I must risk death to present myself!”
“The item I hold concerns the blood and sweat of two hundred thousand soldiers at the frontier, the security of the capital, and—most of all—the virtue of our Crown Prince!”
Her words fell heavy, each like a hammer striking the hearts of all present.
“Bring it forward!” Emperor Yongming’s face turned utterly grim.
Chief Eunuch Zhao Deshun hurried down the steps, receiving the box from the princess. His hands trembled as he carried it.
The old eunuch knew well—once this box was opened, blood would surely flow in the palace. Yet he dared not delay, and quickly presented it to the emperor.
Baili Jun rose slowly. Her once gentle eyes were now cold as blades. Her gaze swept over the Crown Prince, who involuntarily stepped back half a pace.
Her voice rang clear through the hall: “The first item in the box is a copy of the core ledger of embezzled military funds! Within it, four million six hundred thousand taels of silver were secretly transferred by the Crown Prince’s men in the Ministry of Revenue to Youzhou—the fief of Princess Jianing.”
Her words fell, and the hall plunged into deathly silence. One could hear a pin drop.
Youzhou. Princess Jianing. The accusation pointed straight at the Crown Prince.
He reeled as if struck by lightning. Never had he imagined—despite all his precautions—that Ji Huaian, that wretched fool, had secretly recorded everything. At this moment, he wished he could drag that charred corpse from the grave and grind it to ashes.
The numbers in the ledger were staggering. Emperor Yongming’s breathing grew heavy, veins bulging on his hand as he gripped the book. He suddenly recalled the winter of Yuanqi Year 25, when over two thousand border soldiers froze to death. The Ministry of War had reported it as a snow disaster.
Good! Such fine ministers he had raised!
The Crown Prince trembled all over, his legs weakening. From the corner of his eye, he caught Zhaohua’s faint, mocking smile. He lost control, shouting: “Slander! This is forged! Zhaohua! You spit venomous lies!”