Silent move

The air seemed to freeze.

All eyes were fixed on Yi Xing, eyes filled with scrutiny, suspicion, and pressure that threatened to crush his frail frame. He could clearly hear his own rapid heartbeat and the faint buzzing of blood rushing to his head. His fingers clenched unconsciously in his sleeve, the cold porcelain bottle digging into his palm, bringing a sharp, sobering pain.

He forced himself to look up, meeting Di Renjie's all-seeing gaze. He couldn't panic, absolutely couldn't panic. It was like an unexpected move in chess; seemingly hopeless, but if handled properly, it might just be a chance to turn defeat into victory.

His voice was slightly dry from nervousness, but the tone of his voice was unusually steady, carrying a calmness that was inconsistent with his age and appearance.

"Lord Di, you are wise." He first nodded slightly as a sign of courtesy, then slowly raised his wide brocade sleeves, allowing the smooth fabric to be fully revealed under the lamplight. "This garment was given to me by my master before the banquet, and it is the first time I have worn it today."

His gaze swept over the fibers in the glass bottle, then returned to his sleeve, where he carefully compared them.

"The color and texture are indeed very similar to the younger generation's clothing." He readily admitted, which surprised Di Renjie. Usually, when faced with this situation, the suspect's first reaction would be to deny it outright.

“However,” Yi Xing changed the subject, his voice still clear and crisp, “that’s precisely why it seems even more peculiar.”

He leaned forward slightly, and although the movement made him a little breathless, he persisted, pointing to a specific spot on his sleeve: "Lord Di, Master Bian Que, please look. Because I need to sit in a wheelchair, the sleeves, hem, and other easily worn parts of this garment were all reinforced by Sister Yu Huan with a special medicine during the making process, making the fiber structure more compact and less prone to snagging and falling off."

He paused, then looked at Bian Que: "Master Bian Que is well-versed in the mechanisms of all things. Surely he can discern whether the broken fibers in the deceased's hand were naturally worn away or... torn off by someone?"

A faint hint of interest flashed in Bian Que's deep-set eyes. He raised the glass bottle, examined it carefully under the light for a moment, and said in a hoarse voice, "The fiber ends are uneven and there are obvious signs of stretching and breaking. It was indeed caused by strong tearing."

Yi Xing nodded slightly and continued, "I am physically weak and need assistance to move around. From the moment I entered the palace until the banquet, I remained within the sight of my master or the eunuchs and never had any physical conflict with anyone, nor did anyone come close to tear at my sleeve. That is the first point."

"Secondly," he said calmly, looking at Di Renjie, "if you were truly the perpetrator, wouldn't you have checked your clothes for damage afterward, leaving behind such obvious evidence? Especially since it's such unique and easily traceable fabric?"

His logic was clear and organized, systematically stripping him of suspicion step by step. This was not sophistry, but a rational analysis based on facts.

Cheng Yaojin's eyes widened as he listened, and he couldn't help but interject, "This kid has a point! What murderer is so stupid as to kill someone and then leave their own mark on their person?"

Di Renjie ignored Cheng Yaojin and stared at Yi Xing, seemingly reassessing the seemingly frail boy. After a moment, he said in a deep voice, "In your opinion, where did this fiber come from?"

Yi Xing took a deep breath, suppressing the itch in his throat, and said slowly, "This junior dares not make a rash judgment. But there are perhaps two possibilities. First, the murderer deliberately framed him, having somehow obtained fabric similar to mine and intentionally left it behind during the crime. Second…"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present: "What the killer originally intended to leave behind might not have been this strand of fiber, but rather to create signs of a struggle and mislead the investigation. This fiber might just be... an accident."

"An accident?" Di Renjie pressed.

“For example,” Yi Xing’s voice softened, as if he were deducing a sophisticated chess game, “the murderer wanted to take something from Dr. Wang, and in the struggle, Dr. Wang accidentally tore off a fiber from the murderer’s clothes. It just so happens that this fiber is similar to the fabric of my clothes.”

This hypothesis led the case in a more complex direction—murder to cover up the crime, or robbery.

Ming Shiyin remained silent throughout, simply observing his disciple with a barely perceptible hint of approval in his eyes. Yi Xing's response was even more outstanding than he had anticipated. This was not only exonerating himself but also guiding Di Renjie to see other possibilities behind the case.

Di Renjie fell into deep thought. Yi Xing's words did indeed offer a new perspective. If it was truly a frame-up, it meant the murderer had some understanding of Ming Shiyin, Yi Xing, and even the internal workings of Yaotian. If it was an accident, then the murderer's target was likely not the killing itself, but something Dr. Wang was currently examining—for example, the *Tian Yuan Ce*.

“Lord Di,” Ming Shiyin finally spoke, his voice calm yet weighty, “My apprentice is weak and uncomfortable sitting for long periods, and he was quite frightened today. If you have no further questions for now, may he return to his residence to rest? I am willing to stay here and fully cooperate with your investigation.”

He was using a strategy of retreat to advance, demonstrating both a cooperative attitude and protecting Yi Xing, who was in poor condition.

Di Renjie glanced at Yi Xing's increasingly pale face and his slightly heaving chest, knowing that Ming Shiyin's words were true. Although this young man was intelligent and calm, his physical constitution was simply too weak.

"Alright." Di Renjie finally nodded and said to Cheng Yaojin, "General Cheng, I would like to trouble you to send a reliable team to escort Young Master Yixing back to Yaotian's camp. Make sure he is safe."

He specifically emphasized the word "safety," which was quite meaningful. Perhaps he also realized that if there really was a mastermind framing him, then the lone Yi Xing could very well become the next target.

"I, Cheng Yaojin, will personally escort him back!" Cheng Yaojin patted his chest. Although he was a rough and boisterous man, he also liked this intelligent and calm young man. "I guarantee not a single hair on his head will be missing!"

Yi Xing looked at Ming Shi Yin with a questioning look in his eyes.

Ming Shiyin nodded slightly to him and said gently, "Go back and tell Ali and the others that I will be back soon, so don't worry."

Yi Xing was relieved and bowed to Di Renjie and Ming Shiyin respectively: "Thank you, Lord Di and Master. This junior will take his leave."

Cheng Yaojin pushed the wheelchair, his tall figure guarding him, and led Yi Xing away from the Yaoguang Palace, which was still filled with an invisible pressure.

Watching their departing figures, Di Renjie's gaze deepened. He turned to Ming Shiyin: "Lord Ming, your disciple... is no ordinary person."

Ming Shiyin smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying: "He's just a kid who likes to play chess."

Outside the palace, the night wind grew even colder. Cheng Yaojin carefully carried Yi Xing onto the carriage and wrapped him tightly in a blanket. The wheels rolled, and the carriage drove away from the imperial city. Yi Xing leaned against the carriage wall, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. His previously strained spirit instantly crumbled, causing him to cough violently. He hurriedly took out a ginseng pill given to him by Yang Yuhuan and swallowed it.

Cheng Yaojin looked at him worriedly: "Kid, can you handle it?"

"Thank you for your concern, General Cheng. I'm fine." Yi Xing said softly after catching his breath.

The carriage entered the streets and alleys of Chang'an. Night had fallen, and most shops had closed; only the sound of the night watchman's clapper echoed in the empty streets. Just as the carriage passed through a secluded alley, a sudden change occurred!

Several dark figures descended from the eaves on both sides like ghosts, their weapons reflecting a cold gleam in the dim moonlight, rushing straight towards the carriage!

"Assassins!" The coachman's panicked shout rang out at the same time as the sound of weapons cutting through the air!