The emperor's gaze turned to Jiang Dinglian, a high-ranking and influential official. Jiang Dinglian's face was as sullen as water. He met the emperor's inquiring gaze and nodded slowly. His voice, low yet weighted, said, "Your Majesty, this is indeed true. The ancient texts are true."
The emperor's body trembled imperceptibly. He suddenly closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, only a cold determination remained. He turned his back, unwilling to look at his son's bloody mess on the stretcher. His voice seemed to be squeezed through his teeth, each word weighed with heavy pain: "Gouge... it out."
"We must act swiftly. Mafeisan is hard to come by. Your Highness... your honorable officials, we apologize!" The imperial physicians exchanged pitying glances, their voices trembling with apology. One of them quickly blazed a small, sharp silver knife over the candlelight, repeatedly burning it until the tip glowed bluish-white and emitted a subtle sizzling sound. The candlelight within the tent seemed to flicker in the solemn atmosphere.
The tip of the knife, carrying a burning heat and the chill of death, precisely probed Xinyi Zigu's bloody and arrow-sunken left eye socket.
“Ugh—!!!”
A shrill, inhuman howl suddenly ripped through the silence of the tent! The sound was filled with utter agony and despair, as if emanating from the depths of hell. Xinyi Zigu's body bounced violently like a fish out of water, only to be held down by several strong imperial physicians. The excruciating pain lasted only a moment before his head tilted and he passed out, his body still twitching unconsciously.
Everyone in the tent who saw this scene turned their heads away in unison as if they were severely whipped by an invisible whip. The civil officials were pale and their stomachs were churning; the military officers also pursed their lips, their eyes complicated. The "puff" sound of flesh being cut, accompanied by the strong smell of blood, made the air sticky and suffocating. Every breath was like inhaling cold rust. Lord Yang, Concubine Yang's brother, was furious when he saw his sister's only son being tortured. He turned his head abruptly, and his resentful eyes were like a poisoned dagger, fiercely stabbing Xin Yiwei at the back of the crowd! Then, he knelt down heavily in front of the emperor with a "thump", and slammed his forehead to the ground, and roared in grief and anger with a crying tone:
"Your Majesty! The Fourth Prince suffered such a murderous attack. The criminals' methods were so cruel and their intentions were so sinister that it is outrageous! This is clearly an attempt to cut off the lineage of the heirs of our Great Zhou! I beg Your Majesty to issue an order immediately to thoroughly investigate this case! Find out the real culprit behind the scenes and cut him into pieces! Give an explanation to the Fourth Prince, to Concubine Yang, and to the people of the world!" He cried bitterly with every word, and pointed the finger at the Second Prince's party - the Fourth Prince is ruined, but Second Prince, don't even think about staying out of it and living a carefree life!
The emperor's face was so gloomy it looked like water could drip out of it, and his chest heaved violently. He slammed the imperial table, causing the cups and plates to jump. "Investigate! Investigate thoroughly! Dig three feet into the ground to uncover the murderer! No matter who it is, I will tear him into pieces and exterminate his entire clan!" His thunderous rage caused the temperature in the tent to plummet.
"Your humble servant obeys your order!" The Dali Temple Minister immediately stepped out and spoke in a solemn voice.
"Your Majesty, I obey!" Another voice, as cold as iron, echoed simultaneously. The Eastern Depot Governor, Gu Zheyuan, dressed in a dark python robe, with a white, beardless complexion and eyes as sharp as a hawk, bowed and accepted the order. He stood there like a poisonous blade hidden in its sheath, emitting an invisible chill.
In the corner of the tent, Jiang Dinglian and Jiang Yihuan, father and son, who knew part of the situation, glanced at Gu Zheyuan's impassive face with complicated eyes. It was his men who did it. Let the East Depot investigate? What could they find? I'm afraid the only result would be a few more scapegoats who "committed suicide out of fear of punishment." Father and son exchanged a knowing glance, each seeing a hint of helplessness and a deeper wariness in the other's eyes.
The imperial physicians, enduring their discomfort, carefully placed the bloodstained, shapeless eyeball into a small sandalwood box lined with a clean white cloth. This procedure was like treating a eunuch's "treasures" after castration—safely preserved, to be buried together a century later, to preserve the dignity of a "complete corpse." Now, it was being used on a distinguished prince, a scene of unspeakable irony.
The emperor waved his hand wearily, as if even glancing at the box any longer would be torture. The eunuch immediately stepped forward, lifted the heavy wooden box with trembling hands, and retreated into the shadows with a low, submissive look.
The Fourth Prince, Xinyi Zigu's followers, felt as if their backbone had been ripped out. They gathered around the unconscious Fourth Prince, his face bandaged with blood, looking at each other in panic. Some stole glances at Lord Yang, trying to find a new direction, but Lord Yang knelt before the Emperor, his back etched with despair. The people's hearts were broken.
In stark contrast, Second Prince Xin Yiwei and his group were suppressed and excited. If it weren't for the emperor's furious pressure and countless eyes watching, they would have almost been able to clap their hands in celebration and drink deeply! Several trusted ministers lowered their heads, trying hard to hide the uncontrollable curling of their lips.
Xin Yiwei's heart was also filled with ecstasy, but he was a man of great shrewdness, maintaining a perfectly composed expression of solemnity and a hint of "concern." He quietly retreated to the edge of the crowd and lowered his voice to ask Qi Yingxiong, the son of the Marquis of Dingwei, who was standing beside him, "The Marquis's handiwork? The timing is brilliant!"
Qi Yingxiong's face was filled with genuine confusion, and he whispered in the same low voice, "Your Highness, this wasn't arranged by my father. What he meant was that we shouldn't do it on the first day, as it would be too conspicuous." He paused, then asked, "Could it be that Your Highness has other plans?"
Xin Yiwei was slightly startled, then a hint of deeper pride and relief flashed across his eyes. "Oh? He's not one of ours after all?" A cold arc curved his lips, and his voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible. "It seems that my fourth brother has done too many evil things in his daily life, and I don't know what kind of devil he has offended. Truly, he deserves it!"
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