“Do not cry; I am here.” Pei Lian gently patted her back.
Seeing her eyes red from crying, Pei Lian couldn’t help but use his thumb to gently wipe the corners of her eyes.
“I know you have been wronged.”
Once Pei Lian uttered these words, the expressions of those present turned fascinating.
Was the Crown Prince planning to have a change of heart?
Consort Liu was the woman he loved most, yet he was now showing such favor to a lowly Consort. Was this not a direct slap to Consort Liu’s face?
Liu Yan felt an intense ache in her heart, and simultaneously, her hatred for that bitch Shen Zhi deepened. She possessed the face of a vixen, and her methods of seduction were truly remarkable. How much time had passed, yet she had already made Pei Lang dote on her so much?
Shen Zhi didn’t speak; she merely reached out to cautiously grab the yellow robe he was wearing, staring at him with wide, watery eyes, as if to say, “I only have you now.”
After soothing Shen Zhi’s emotions, Pei Lian turned around, his expression returning to its usual icy coldness.
He fixed his gaze on the man sitting on the ground and asked, “What is your name?”
Upon hearing this, the man hurriedly kowtowed and responded, “This commoner is called Zhao Quan; I am a coachman.”
“This pair of earrings is a token of love given to me by Consort Shen. I even sent her a letter; if Your Highness does not believe me, you can go and search.”
Zhao Quan was terrified, yet his actions and words were aimed entirely at dragging Shen Zhi down with him. Is this truly the Crown Prince of the Dazhao Dynasty? He is truly heroic and majestic.
“Is the letter you spoke of this one?” Pei Lian asked.
Beside him, Yuan Qing opened a box and took out a letter.
When Liu Yan saw the letter and the wooden hairpin in Pei Lian’s hand, her face turned deathly pale.
So, the Crown Prince had known about this plot from the very beginning; he had simply been playing along to lure the mastermind out.
It’s over.
The minds of those present raced. They had not expected that the letter and hairpin the man spoke of were actually in the Prince’s hands. The Crown Prince was truly doting on this Consort Shen.
Zhao Quan raised his head to scrutinize it carefully before saying, “Yes, that is it.”
“This is the love letter I wrote to Consort Shen!”
“And that hairpin is the token of love I gave her.”
Zhao Quan now only wanted to ensure Shen Zhi was convicted so he could take his money and leave. But he forgot that in a matter involving the dignity of the Imperial family, even if it were a misunderstanding, he—the man—would surely be put to death.
“Are you certain this is yours?” Pei Lian asked again.
“It is this commoner’s!” Zhao Quan nodded fiercely.
“It is rare for a coachman to be able to write with such spirit and character. Someone, bring paper, a brush, and ink. I wish to see this handwriting.”
Upon hearing this, a look of horror appeared on Zhao Quan’s face. He had no idea how to write! That woman had simply given him the earrings and instructed him to insist until his death that they were a token of love from Consort Shen, and to follow their script. Now, being asked to write was impossible for him.
The writing implements were brought out quickly. Zhao Quan stood there, holding the brush in complete bewilderment. He subconsciously raised his head and swept his gaze over the concubines, searching for the one who had hired him. Zhao Quan now realized there was no way out.
“Write!” Pei Lian roared, startling Zhao Quan so much that he shivered, causing the ink-laden brush in his hand to shake. A drop of black ink fell onto the fine rice paper.
Zhao Quan could only force himself to continue, but the marks he made were not characters at all—merely a blob of black ink.
Now, everyone understood. This was merely a scheme—a scheme intended to eliminate Shen Zhi. But it seemed the mastermind had not succeeded.
“It seems you cannot write. Then who wrote the love letter?” Pei Lian narrowed his eyes, asking calmly.
“Answer me.”
Zhao Quan was so terrified by the authoritative aura Pei Lian radiated that he couldn’t stop trembling.
“You won’t speak?”
“Lian Yi, kill him.” Pei Lian spoke nonchalantly, but his words terrified Zhao Quan to the core. He had been greedy for those hundred taels of silver; he didn’t want to die!
“I’ll speak! I’ll speak!”
“A woman found me and gave me these earrings. She said as long as I insisted they were from Consort Shen, it would be enough.”
“Who was that woman?”
“I don’t know. She was wearing a veil; I couldn’t see her face.”
“I beg the Crown Prince to show mercy! I know I was wrong; I only did this for a hundred taels of silver!”
Zhao Quan kept kowtowing and begging for mercy, because Lian Yi, standing beside him, had already drawn his blade. He didn’t want to die; he hadn’t had enough of life yet.
“Kill him.” Pei Lian’s two simple words left Zhao Quan paralyzed with fear. He looked at the blade, attempting to scramble away on his hands and knees, but Lian Yi ran him through the heart, and he died on the spot.
Watching this scene, Shen Zhi couldn’t help but tremble all over.
Blood…
Red blood, a stained blade, and a corpse lying on the ground. Shen Zhi uncontrollably recalled how she, too, had been killed like this. The man hadn’t killed her instantly; he had stabbed her abdomen several times, leaving her to collapse on the ground as the blood slowly drained from her wounds. Shen Zhi had laid in a pool of blood, feeling her body grow colder and colder, with pain accompanying her until the end.
“Ahhh—”
Lian Yi had killed the man right in front of them, a spectacle that made many who had never witnessed such things scream in terror. Soon after, people came to take the body away, and others arrived with tools to scrub the blood from the ground.
Not long after, the place was restored to its original state, as if nothing had ever happened.
But this scene had triggered Shen Zhi’s memories of her own death. Her body couldn’t stop shaking, and she began to fear everything around her. She kept comforting herself in her heart: I am safe now; no one will hurt me. Pei Lian is here; he will protect me.
“This wooden hairpin.” Pei Lian picked up the begonia hairpin, twirling it lightly in his fingers, before letting his gaze fall upon Liu Yan.
“Consort Liu, do you recognize this?” This question from Pei Lian was tantamount to pushing Liu Yan off a cliff.
She looked at the begonia hairpin, her face turning ghastly pale. “Your Highness, this concubine does not recognize it.”
“I have never seen this wooden hairpin.”
Hearing Liu Yan’s denial, Pei Lian’s expression turned dark instantly.
“You don’t recognize it?” Pei Lian said softly.
“You wore this hairpin before you were married. You even asked me back then if you looked beautiful in it.”
“I still remember it, yet you do not?”
As Pei Lian spoke these words, a dense, murderous aura exuded from him. His sharp, beautiful eyes stared fixedly at Liu Yan.
Hearing this, Liu Yan’s body went limp.
“This concubine does not know how my hairpin ended up here. I am being wronged.”
Liu Yan hurriedly knelt up, looking at Pei Lian while pleading her innocence. At the same time, large tears began to roll down her cheeks. “My hairpin was lost a long time ago. I do not know whose hairpin this is in your hand, Your Highness.”
She could not admit guilt; even in death, she could not admit it.