The autumn sun outside the house was warm, and Zhou Jing'an had his back to the light, which made his face look even softer and his eyes look like autumn waves.

Jiang Ling suddenly felt her heart beating wildly. She blinked, admiring the handsome face, and raised the corners of her lips slightly.

"Ling'er thinks Mr. Zhou is very handsome."

The two were very close to each other. Zhou Jing'an stood there in a daze, feeling the fragrance of Jiang Ling coming straight into him.

It was like the fragrance of some kind of flower. His head was in a mess and he couldn't smell what kind of flower it was. He only felt a light and faint fragrance, which made him feel as if he was in a sea of flowers.

His cheeks were hot, he turned around, the corners of his mouth curled up, and whispered softly: "Well, Ling'er is pretty too."

After Zhou Huanan finished practicing a complete set of sword techniques, he looked into the room.

The two people had chairs but refused to sit down and insisted on talking while standing.

One of them turned away, her face as red as if she had applied five layers of rouge.

She sighed helplessly and smiled again.

It seems that she will have a lovely sister-in-law soon.

-

On December 3rd, many people were waiting in front of the Meridian Gate early in the morning, talking about things in a lively manner.

Even the pub and teahouse next door were full of people, sitting together in groups of three or four.

Everyone looked towards the direction of the Ministry of Justice prison from time to time, as if waiting for someone to appear.

Cheng An leaned his arms on the table, feeling somewhat helpless.

"Ling'er, what's so interesting about seeing a criminal being executed? You might as well go to my farm and have some fun."

Wu Wanying reached out and picked up a cup of tea, smiling and said, "Who knows why Ling'er suddenly wanted to see this? I'll just risk my life to accompany you."

She took a sip of the fragrant tea. "But I'll have to cover my eyes when I do. I'm afraid I won't be able to eat lunch."

However, the person they said insisted on seeing the criminal being executed said nothing, but supported his head with his eyes closed and rested.

They had been sitting in the private room on the second floor of Zhao's Teahouse for a quarter of an hour, and Jiang Ling hadn't said a word.

He looked a little nervous and responded one or two words at a time.

Cheng An sat up straight, replaced the cold tea in front of her with a cup and pushed it in front of her. He frowned and asked worriedly, "Ling'er, why are you so absent-minded?"

"But you didn't sleep well last night?" Wu Wanying placed her favorite chestnut cake in front of her.

Jiang Ling came out of her thoughts, relaxed her expression, smiled at them, picked up the teacup and took a sip, then picked up the chestnut cake.

"It's just that this is my first time seeing this kind of scene, and I can't help but feel a little curious."

She stuffed a round chestnut cake into her mouth, but her expression was still a little serious.

Jiang Ling was worried that something unexpected would happen today.

When she went to the Prime Minister's Mansion a few days ago, she carefully reminded Zhou Jing'an a few things, but she didn't know whether he listened to her or not.

She had just finished a chestnut cake and drank some tea to moisten her throat when she saw two people being escorted out of the Ministry of Justice prison.

She had never seen Qiu Congshan and Cheng Zhihuai, but it couldn't be anyone else except them.

As soon as these two people appeared, the discussion among the crowd stopped for a moment, and the next second, there was even louder voices.

There seemed to be a few young men sitting in the private room next door, and their voices were so loud that they could penetrate the wall.

Through their conversation, Jiang Ling learned that the taller one with a long black beard was Cheng Zhihuai. He had a handsome appearance and some of the elegance of a scholar.

The other one was shorter, slightly fatter, with a haggard face and a gray and worn look. He was Qiu Congshan.

Jiang Ling observed Cheng Zhihuai carefully.

He is tall and thin, but when you get closer you will find that he is slightly hunched, with sunken cheeks, dark circles under his eyes, and he exudes a decadent air.

Jiang Ling couldn't help but frown.

This was not as relaxed as the initial parade.

What happened during this period?

While she was thinking, the two men had been escorted to the execution platform, their hands tied behind their backs with ropes, kneeling on the ground with their heads down.

The chief judge is the current Minister of Justice Wen Xingqing, who sits behind the main case with a solemn expression.

The onlookers had already formed three or four circles around the scene, all pointing and talking at the two people on the stage.

The young men in the private room next door had somehow turned their conversation to the sudden death of a court official that had caused a lot of controversy in recent days.

The case is still under investigation, but nothing has been found.

The executioner came and went without a trace, his methods were cruel, and his whereabouts were secretive. Yesterday, the emperor ordered the other two departments of the Three Departments to assist the Ministry of Justice in tracking him down.

And two days ago, two officials, also from the Six Ministries, died suddenly one after another.

The group of young men were discussing the executioner's magical powers. Now all three departments were mobilized to track him down, but they still had no clues.

Jiang Ling's hand stroking the teacup paused slightly, his pupils constricted, his eyes widened, and the clues in his head that had no clue at all seemed to be connected by an invisible silk thread in an instant, slowly weaving a dense spider web.

Three offices.

The Ministry of Justice, the Censorate, and...

Dali Temple.

Jiang Ling turned her head and looked. The midday sun had a scorching smell even in autumn, and it clearly illuminated the sweat on Qiu Congshan and Cheng Zhihuai's faces.

Cheng Zhihuai lowered his head, his face was pale, his lips were bloodless, and his body seemed even more hunched than before.

Cheng Zhihuai was originally the Shaoqing of the Dali Temple.

As a pawn planted in the court by those in the previous dynasty, and having been up and down in officialdom for so many years, he must have his own connections and information channels.

Moreover, he must be waiting in prison for someone to rescue him. He must want to know what news and events are happening, so that he can find out and distinguish the messages conveyed by his companions.

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading!