TRBDM -Chapter 187 I’m In

Jiang Yuelin’s blood was boiling.

His hatred toward the Third Prince for his wanton violence, and his disappointment in the Crown Prince’s incompetence and weakness, had left Jiang Yuelin—caught in the very eye of the storm—unable to see the road ahead.

Yet Wei Zhaorong’s sudden appearance was like a lamp in the thick fog, guiding him forward.

“Old Madam Hou, I’m in!”

Jiang Yuelin’s decisive choice brought a knowing smile to Wei Zhaorong’s face.

As expected, Jiang Yuelin had long seen through everything—he had merely lacked someone to show him the way.

At this critical juncture, Wei Zhaorong had stepped forward without hesitation, becoming the most dangerous one to take the lead.

“Since we have reached an agreement, I’ll have to trouble Lord Jiang to convey the intentions of my Mingde Marquis Manor and the Court of Judicial Review to the Tenth Prince.”

Zhao Jingheng resided in Qingfeng Hall. It was not easy for Wei Zhaorong to request an audience with him, but Jiang Yuelin entered and exited the palace frequently. Moreover, he was in charge of investigating Zhao Jingrui’s poisoning case, so entering Qingfeng Hall would not arouse suspicion.

“Very well. I’ll go this afternoon.”

After a pause, Wei Zhaorong asked, “I intend to persuade the Eldest Princess to support the Tenth Prince. Lord Jiang, do you think it can be done?”

Jiang Yuelin pondered for a moment. “Fifty-fifty.”

For him to say there was a fifty percent chance that the Eldest Princess would support Zhao Jingheng meant that, in recent days, Jiang Yuelin had also discovered things others had overlooked.

Wei Zhaorong laughed softly. “Lord Jiang, I fear you are the only one besides me who believes the Eldest Princess would support the Tenth Prince.”

“I’m only speaking honestly.”

He, Zhao Jingheng, and Wei Zhaorong all knew the Eldest Princess’s secret. In a sense, they formed their own faction.

Whether it was the Eldest Princess’s faction or the Tenth Prince’s faction, in any case, they stood apart from both the Crown Prince’s faction and the Third Prince’s faction.

In Jiang Yuelin’s heart, he even felt that the probability of persuading the Eldest Princess to back the Tenth Prince was as high as seventy percent.

But he did not say this aloud before Wei Zhaorong—it was, after all, only his personal intuition.

With everything that needed to be said already spoken and her goal achieved, Wei Zhaorong did not linger.

She rose to her feet. “Besides the Court of Judicial Review, I will also persuade the Nanyang General’s Manor to join.”

When Jiang Yuelin looked at her again, there was admiration in his eyes. “That would be excellent.”

The more allies they gained, the greater their chances of success.

“Old Madam Hou, I’ll see you out.”

“Mm. Oh, and after you finish your work, Lord Jiang, you must rest more. Wanrou is very worried about you. She hasn’t been eating or sleeping well these past few days—she’s grown thinner.”

At the mention of Xie Wanrou losing weight, Jiang Yuelin grew anxious. “Please tell her for me that I am well and that she need not worry too much.”

“Very well. I’ll pass along your message.”

After Wei Zhaorong left, Jiang Yuelin returned to his desk.

The disordered case files were piled high like mountains, all related to the investigation into Lord Feng Yun’s death.

Wei Zhaorong’s visit had made Jiang Yuelin understand that there was no longer any need to continue investigating Lord Feng’s case.

The only way to avenge Lord Feng was to prevent the Third Prince from ascending the throne.

Having sorted everything out, Jiang Yuelin was no longer like a headless fly crashing about blindly, exhausting himself without daring to stop.

“Hiss—”

His left arm began to ache again.

He had worked day and night for several days, his nerves stretched taut. Now that he had suddenly relaxed, the pain and fatigue surged back.

His eyes were dry and bloodshot; each blink stung sharply.

He ordered someone to gather all the case files and place them into a special box.

After finishing this, he walked into his bedchamber and lay down.

The moment he closed his eyes, he fell directly into a deep sleep.

Wei Zhaorong returned to Mingde Marquis Manor. As soon as she stepped into Anhe Courtyard, Xie Wanrou hurried over to her.

“Mother, how is Lord Jiang?”

“He looks somewhat haggard—probably exhausted—but his appetite is good. He finished every drop of the bone broth you made.”

Hearing this, Xie Wanrou felt both worried and relieved. The heavy stone pressing on her heart finally eased a little; it no longer hurt as sharply.

She said softly, “With Lord Feng’s passing, he must be very upset.”

“That is only natural. Lord Jiang handles official duties every day and still goes to the Feng residence to pay his respects. He barely has time to sleep. Once Lord Feng’s funeral affairs are concluded, he’ll have more time. Rou’er, don’t worry. After the case is fully tried, he will come to see you.”

“Mm. Mother is right.”

Jiang Yuelin slept for a full two hours. When he opened his eyes, most of the fatigue in his body had dissipated, and even his left arm hurt less than before.

After tidying himself up, he mounted his horse and rode into the palace.

Upon arriving at Qingfeng Hall, Eunuch Jianxi personally led him in to see Zhao Jingheng.

In his hoarse, subdued voice, Jianxi said, “Lord Jiang, thank you for helping His Tenth Highness find the culprit. A few days ago, everyone in Liuxiao Palace was ordered by His Majesty to be confined—even Consort Ling was no exception.”

The Northern Border people in the Dachong harem had always been outsiders, unable to truly blend in. As a marriage-alliance princess, if Consort Ling had behaved properly and kept Zhao Jingrui from contacting Northern Border forces, she could have lived out her life peacefully.

But they had secretly maintained contact with the Northern Border people for years and had even attempted to poison a prince in the palace. Such a grave crime—how could Zhao Kuang possibly tolerate it?

If Zhao Lingchen had not insisted on personally interrogating Zhao Jingrui, Zhao Jingrui would already have been executed by Zhao Kuang.

After all, Zhao Jingrui was ultimately of foreign blood—a wolf that could never be tamed.

Jiang Yuelin said, “Liuxiao Palace has long been corresponding with the Northern Border people. Their intentions and motives were impure from the start. They should indeed be thoroughly interrogated.”

Since Jiang Yuelin had helped Qingfeng Hall uncover the murderer and had himself been gravely injured, Jianxi no longer regarded him with much suspicion. In a lowered voice, he added, “Recently, His Majesty’s health has been poor. He lacks the energy to deal with Liuxiao Palace. For now, they’ve only been confined, not interrogated.”

“His Majesty surely has his own arrangements. It is not for us to worry.”

“You’re right, Lord Jiang.”

The two arrived at the front hall. “Please have a seat, Lord Jiang. I’ll go invite His Tenth Highness.”

“Mm.”

Before long, Zhao Jingheng arrived.

“Lord Jiang, I’ve heard about Lord Feng. Please accept my condolences.”

Jiang Yuelin’s expression was solemn. “Since it has come to this, we can only accept it.”

The dead cannot return to life; one must still look ahead.

“Jianxi, serve tea.”

The fragrance of tea filled the air. The two men drank quietly. After finishing a cup, Zhao Jingheng asked, “Lord Jiang, what brings you to Qingfeng Hall today?”

“Your Tenth Highness, I’ve heard that His Majesty’s health is unwell. Have you gone to visit him?”

Zhao Jingheng shook his head.

In the past few days, Zhao Kuang had summoned him to Taihe Hall daily, creating the illusion of “extreme favor.”

But after the emperor fell ill, Zhao Jingheng never received another summons.

He had gone to Taihe Hall once to pay a visit, intending to inquire after the emperor’s health, but the chief eunuch stopped him at the door. He did not get to see Zhao Kuang.

Zhao Jingheng felt no real father-son affection toward Zhao Kuang. After being turned away once, he did not go again.

After all, in Zhao Kuang’s heart, there were only the Crown Prince and Zhao Lingchen.

Without the emperor’s “favor,” Qingfeng Hall returned to its former state of being ignored and unattended.

Recalling the expressions of those people from a few days ago, Jianxi could not help but want to spit in contempt.

“Fence-sitters. Dog-eyed snobs—bah.”

Zhao Jingheng accepted everything calmly. His life had not changed in the slightest.

He practiced his calligraphy when it was time to practice, and read his books when it was time to read.

Only occasionally would he recall that pale yet resolute face beneath the dim moonlight—Dou Shuxin.

It had been a long time since he had seen her.