“Did I hear that right? Has he lost his mind?”
“He even dares to target a child.”
Cheng Mingli rubbed her eyes. “Susu, I admit I was blind before. He’s not worthy.” To think she once liked such a man—his charm was gone.
Then a cold, icy voice rang out: “Indeed, punishment is required!”
A group of men in black surrounded a figure seated in a wheelchair. Each carried blades at their waist, radiating murderous intent.
The atmosphere instantly grew tense; the timid trembled in fear.
“It’s Lord Qiansui.”
Everyone dropped to their knees. “Greetings to Your Highness.”
Only Jiang Wenzhou hesitated, clutching the unconscious Ye Yizhen. He wanted to kneel, but couldn’t bear to set her down—caught between duty and sentiment.
Li Wuyang’s cold gaze swept over him. “Heir of Marquis Pingxi’s household, you do not kneel before me? Is this dissatisfaction with your prince?”
“No, no, I dare not!” Jiang Wenzhou was startled, quickly laying Ye Yizhen on the ground. An elderly woman hurried forward to guard her carefully.
Yun Zheng’s eyes fell on the old woman, instantly turning cold. It was Ye Yizhen’s nursemaid, Nanny Wang—one of her henchmen.
In her past life, Yun Zheng had suffered terribly at Nanny Wang’s hands: beatings, humiliation, endless torment. How could an old servant know so many cruel methods? Her heart was vicious beyond measure.
Jiang Wenzhou knelt heavily, prostrating himself at Li Wuyang’s feet, not daring to breathe loudly—his earlier arrogance utterly gone.
Li Wuyang’s gaze swept over the crowd from above, each glance striking terror. “Who dared to seal off Huangjue Temple? Who locked thousands inside, forbidding entry or exit? Who was so bold?”
The chilling questions made Jiang Wenzhou shudder. “It was I, Your Highness. Please allow me to explain—there was reason…”
Before he could finish, Yun Zheng struck first. “Reporting to Your Highness, I accuse Ye Yizhen of kidnapping and trafficking children.”
Come on then—let’s all go mad together.
Jiang Wenzhou’s face changed drastically. “Yun Zheng, how dare you!”
Yun Zheng pointed at the unconscious Ye Yizhen lying on the ground. “To whitewash this woman, you’re willing to destroy me. Why wouldn’t I dare?”
If you strike first, I’ll strike harder—who’s afraid of whom?
Jiang Wenzhou sneered. “Yun Zheng, no matter what tricks you play, I won’t spare you a glance. If anything happens to Zhenzhen, I’ll never forgive you for the rest of my life.”
Yun Zheng laughed in exasperation. Did he really think everything she did was for him? So ordinary, yet so self‑important.
She didn’t even bother to look his way. “Your Highness, as you can see, he is shielding a criminal.”
Li Wuyang’s gaze swept the crowd, then, with a flick of his hand: “Seize this woman and all her attendants. Interrogate them under torture.”
Though he said only Ye Yizhen’s servants, who could distinguish them clearly? Apart from Jiang Wenzhou and his two retainers, all the maids, nursemaids, household staff, and coachmen were taken.
Jiang Wenzhou grew frantic. “Your Highness, you cannot act on one‑sided words and abuse your power against our Marquis’s household. I protest!”
From nearby, Duke Ding cast him a look—brave words—but silently stepped aside.
Li Wuyang’s eyes grew colder, his lips curling into a thin smile. “Protest? Very well. Men, carry out punishment in public.”
Before everyone’s eyes, the servants of Marquis Pingxi’s household were dragged down, forced to the ground, awaiting their turn.
The flogging began with the male servants. The sound of boards striking flesh, their shrill screams, and the stench of blood filled the air, terrifying the onlookers.
Those still waiting were petrified, crying out repeatedly: “I’ll confess, I’ll confess! Please just question me quickly.”
Jiang Wenzhou was furious and enraged, but his single protest had drained all his courage.
Li Wuyang was not a man of reason. With power in his hands, his word was law. Wherever he went, blood and terror followed.
At last, one maid broke down. “I’ll confess, I’ll confess!”
Li Wuyang waved his hand, and the executioners stepped back. The maid, covered in blood, was dragged before him.
“The eldest Young Madam’s conduct is indeed suspicious…” She was Xiaohe, a rough servant from Ye Yizhen’s courtyard, broad‑shouldered and strong.
Jiang Wenzhou panicked. “Xiaohe, don’t speak nonsense! Don’t forget Zhenzhen’s kindness to you.”
Ye Yizhen often took Xiaohe along when she went out. If a carriage couldn’t reach a place, she would have Xiaohe carry her up. So, though not her closest confidante, Xiaohe knew quite a lot.
Xiaohe, terrified from the beating, quickly confessed: “By custom, a bride must not leave home within three days of marriage. But the Eldest Young Madam clung to the heir all night, finally persuading him to bring her here to offer incense—and she specifically named Huangjue Temple.”
Yes, that was true. Within three days of marriage, unless for something of utmost importance, one did not go out. Even the court granted three days of marital leave.
Some people expressed doubt, while others fixated on the phrase *clung all night*. How exactly did she cling?
Ye Yizhen looked so pure and elegant—was she secretly coquettish? Who would have thought?
Jiang Wenzhou glared at Xiaohe with murderous eyes, wishing he could silence her forever. “We came to burn the first stick of incense, to pray for the Bodhisattva’s blessing.”
Yun Zheng laughed coldly. “And when is incense not allowed to be burned? Why insist on the third day of marriage? So impatient—it looks suspicious no matter how you explain it.”
She struck without mercy, adding fuel to the fire.
Jiang Wenzhou hated her most of all. She had single‑handedly ruined his and Ye Yizhen’s reputation. “Poisonous woman!”
Yun Zheng sneered. Poisonous? Then let him wait and see.
Xiaohe suddenly pointed at the elderly woman hiding at the back.
“Yesterday, Eldest Young Madam’s nursemaid, Nanny Wang, went out. She claimed she was buying pastries her mistress liked, but when she returned, she seemed distracted.”
All eyes turned to Nanny Wang. She had not yet been tortured, shrinking into the crowd, nearly invisible.
Yun Zheng’s gaze fell on her. As expected—if Ye Yizhen had business, she would send Nanny Wang.
“You little wretch, when was I distracted? I was simply tired.”
Asked how she went out, the coachman raised his hand. “Nanny Wang rode in my carriage. First she went to Baiyan Pavilion to buy the newly released rouge, then to Piaoxiang Residence for fresh mille‑feuille pastries, and afterward returned to the estate.”
The investigators pressed further. “Whom did she meet along the way?”
The coachman shook his head. “I didn’t follow her inside, so I don’t know.”
Li Wuyang’s expression remained cool. “Send a pigeon dispatch. Investigate whom she contacted along the way.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Nanny Wang’s face turned pale, crying out repeatedly. “Your Highness, I am innocent! My mistress is even more wronged. She was robbed of her beloved husband, insulted as poor, mocked by the world. What crime has she truly committed?”
At such a moment, she was still trying to whitewash Ye Yizhen, turning the arrows toward Yun Zheng.
But Yun Zheng was unafraid. She strode forward boldly. “Let me tell you.”
Pointing at the unconscious Ye Yizhen, she tore into her openly: “She is at fault for knowing the Marquis’s household wanted to deceive the world, to swap brides, yet never informed our Yun family. If she had secretly sent word, we would never have married our daughter. Wanting everything, yet pretending to be wronged.”
“She is at fault for knowing the Marquis despised her poverty, yet insisting on marrying, still dreaming of stealing my dowry and crushing me.”
“She is at fault for having ambition far beyond her strength.”
“A person should know their limits. She does not.”
Every sentence pierced the heart, every word sharp, ripping away Ye Yizhen’s mask and grinding it beneath her heel.
The crowd erupted in commotion. Yun Zheng thought she saw Ye Yizhen’s finger twitch—was she only feigning unconsciousness?
Just then, a figure lunged at Yun Zheng with a dagger. “I’ll fight you to the death!”
“Miss, watch out!” Chunhua screamed.
Yun Zheng’s mind went blank. She watched the dagger stab toward her, knowing she should dodge, but her feet felt frozen, unable to move.