Assistant Prefect Lu, having just listened to so many conflicting testimonies, was utterly confused. Already impatient, he snapped: “Enough! You have no witnesses or evidence—how can this official believe you? Who knows if this isn’t just a play you staged to escape punishment!”
Shopkeeper Yuan trembled violently, his face filled with despair.
When the beggar had delivered the note, the only clerk in the shop had been sent out on an errand, leaving Shopkeeper Yuan alone. He truly had no witness to support his claim.
At that moment, the coroner who had been crouching beside the corpse stood up, walked to Assistant Prefect Lu, and bowed: “Reporting to Assistant Prefect Lu, I have finished examining the body. The victim died not long ago. When I arrived, her body was still soft, meaning she had been dead less than half an hour. Her fatal wound was the injury to the back of her head. The murder weapon should be the blood‑stained stone beside her. Her clothing was disordered and wrinkled, and there were skin flakes and blood beneath her fingernails. These both indicate she struggled with someone before death—most likely the killer.”
At once, all the officials turned their sharp gazes toward Shopkeeper Yuan and at the claw marks on his collar. Summer clothes were thin, and those claw marks had torn his robe, faintly revealing scratches and blood on his skin beneath.
Assistant Prefect Lu’s eyes lit up brighter than the sun overhead. He raised his finger, pointing straight at Shopkeeper Yuan, and shouted: “Even now you dare to plead innocence? Guards! Take this Yuan back to the Capital Yamen to await interrogation!”
Shopkeeper Yuan’s eyes widened. Ignoring the wound on his head, he shook his head desperately, crying out in anguish: “Injustice, my lord! I am innocent! I truly did not kill her!”
His voice was so pitiful that he seemed on the verge of tears at any moment.
Ersi and Er’an clapped their hands over their mouths, shocked and terrified. Though they had never met Shopkeeper Yuan, he had managed *Manyifang* for over ten years. To think that the man their young mistress’s grandfather had trusted so deeply was now branded a shameless murderer—it was chilling.
The small alley was suddenly filled with noise and chaos.In stark contrast, across the street stood a quiet, serene teahouse. On the second floor by the window sat two extraordinary men. One wore a pale‑blue scholar’s robe with a slanted collar, a scholar’s cap on his head, and held a white feather fan. Tall and slender like bamboo, he radiated scholarly grace, yet his bright, penetrating eyes revealed depth like the sea—clearly not a man to be underestimated.
At that moment, he leaned half his body out the window, raising his fan to shield himself from the scorching sun, and said with relish: “Well, well. That Assistant Prefect Lu actually found the killer. Seems the Capital Yamen isn’t entirely useless! This way, at least one assistant prefect can be preserved, and the yamen won’t become a pitiful empty shell. A good thing, indeed.”
The nearby shop attendant looked at him nervously, wanting to warn him to be careful lest he fall, but when his eyes flicked to the man sitting opposite, his heart trembled and he dared not speak.
That man wore a black round‑collared robe with narrow sleeves. Tall and upright, his face seemed carved by a blade, his features sharp, his nose high and straight. He was like a drawn sword—handsome yet fearsome, radiating an aura that inspired awe and dread.
At that moment, the man in black was slightly lowering his head, sipping from a cup of clear tea.
Rong Ruo, seeing that the man opposite hadn’t responded to his earlier words, turned to glance at him, then drew back and said: “I say, Pingyi… cough, no, Your Highness. What do you think of this Assistant Prefect Lu? Do you intend to keep him?
“The Capital Yamen is small, but Assistant Prefect Lu is the elder brother of the former empress—he absolutely cannot be used. Beneath him are two assistant magistrates: Assistant Prefect Kang, whose Kang family is related to the Lu family, making him essentially part of their faction, so he too cannot be used. That leaves only this Assistant Prefect Lu. His talent may be average, but he has some drive. Most importantly, the Capital Yamen cannot be left without someone to do the work. You may temporarily hold the position of Prefect, but your responsibilities extend far beyond that. Your other duties are piled up like a mountain…”
The man opposite—Zhou Yunkè—lifted his eyelids slightly, casting a cool glance at Rong Ruo, and said faintly: “Since Master Rong is so concerned about the affairs of my prefecture, why not fill the vacancy yourself?”
Rong Ruo, who had been speaking with great enthusiasm, suddenly choked, waving his white feather fan frantically and coughing softly: “I say, Your Highness, I can follow you into battle, offer strategies, and manage military affairs, but the work of a civil magistrate is beyond me! Besides, though the war is over, the army still needs oversight. I am still the strategist of the Shenwu Army—how could I spare the time?”
Investigating cases was something he was utterly unskilled at. With his intelligence, he could manage if he tried, but why should he? The war had only just ended; he hadn’t rested enough yet. Only a fool would take on such trouble!
Zhou Yunkè’s dark eyes seemed to pierce through his thoughts, his lips curving in a faint, knowing smile. He set down his teacup and said evenly: “So it seems Master Rong’s duties are even heavier than mine.”
Rong Ruo: “…”
Damn it, he shouldn’t have said that one extra sentence!
Their lord was already inscrutable before. Now that he was Crown Prince, he was even harder to read.
Just as Rong Ruo was silently lamenting, one of the two guards behind Zhou Yunkè—the one standing by the window—suddenly spoke: “Your Highness, it seems the situation has changed.”
Zhou Yunkè paused, turned his head, and looked out the window again.
The teahouse was diagonally opposite the alley where the murder had occurred. Even from their position closest to the alley, they could only see its entrance.
Zhou Yunkè’s black eyes grew cold as he fixed them on the alley mouth. He clearly saw a woman in a pale‑pink cross‑collar blouse and a sky‑blue pleated skirt, wearing a veiled hat, suddenly step out of the crowd and walk straight up to Assistant Prefect Lu.
Meanwhile—
Just as Shopkeeper Yuan was about to be taken away, Ersi and Er’an turned their heads, unable to bear watching. But then a familiar, crisp voice rang out: “Assistant Magistrate Lu, wait. The one who killed the victim was not Shopkeeper Yuan.”
After half a month of rest, Su Liuyue’s voice had finally returned to normal.
Ersi and Er’an froze, suddenly lifting their heads in shock as they stared at their young mistress stepping forward.
The onlookers were stunned as well—it was the first time they had seen someone openly contradict the officials.
Assistant Prefect Lu, who had just been basking in satisfaction at solving the case so quickly, glared at Su Liuyue, his brows furrowed, his expression hostile: “Who are you, woman?! This is an official investigation—what right do you have to speak here…”
Su Liuyue’s lips curved slightly. She interrupted him unhurriedly, her tone calm: “This case should be of great importance to Assistant Prefect Lu. Surely you would not wish to take the wrong murderer back, only to end with a poor outcome.”
Assistant Prefect Lu stiffened, his eyes widening suddenly. “You… how do you know?!”
How could this woman know that the case was so crucial to him?