Chapter 85
In the inner hall of the East Palace, the atmosphere was as heavy as lead.
Li Yun and Zheng Dehao sat opposite each other. The candlelight in the hall flickered, making their faces appear bright and dark.
Although the assassination case has been closed and everyone said that it was the Red Maple Society that secretly instigated it, Li Yin still felt an inexplicable uneasiness in his heart, as if there was a turbulent situation beneath the calm surface of a lake, so he secretly sent Zheng Dehao to investigate thoroughly.
Today, Zheng Dehao requested a meeting to report on his investigation. Li Yin dismissed his attendants, and the hall fell silent, the only sound being the occasional crackling of a candle. He raised his eyes, signaling Zheng Dehao to speak.
Zheng Dehao's expression was solemn. He bowed and said, "Your Highness, I have been secretly investigating the assassin's whereabouts for several days, but there is no trace of the Red Maple Society around him. It's as if the mastermind behind this has disappeared into thin air."
Li Yin frowned slightly, stroking the armrest of his chair, and pondered, "I think after their last setback, they've learned their lesson. Now they're hiding in the dark, concealing their whereabouts, hoping to wait for the storm to pass before they strike again."
Zheng Dehao nodded in agreement, then changed the subject: "Your Highness is absolutely right, but I have discovered something extremely suspicious this time."
Li Yin's eyes instantly sharpened like an eagle, and he pressed on, "Oh? What's going on? Why is it so strange?"
Zheng Dehao lowered his voice, as if afraid someone might be listening. "The Minister of Revenue, Sun Xing, has quietly sold off several of his private residences recently. Strangely enough, he only accepted gold, not silver or copper coins."
Upon hearing this, Li Yin's eyes glared and he snorted coldly, "Humph, this Sun Xing, I just reprimanded him for the crime of buying and selling official positions and even dismissed him from his post. Now he's acting like this, there must be something fishy going on."
Zheng Dehao's face lit up with realization, and he continued, "Your Highness is wise. What's even more suspicious is the whereabouts of the gold. The deceased assassin's brother showed up at a casino with a large sum of gold, squandering it recklessly as if he had become rich overnight."
Upon hearing this, Li Yin fell into deep thought. After a moment, he slowly spoke, "According to common sense, the government has already compensated the deceased assassin. But now Sun Xing's gold has appeared in the hands of the assassin's family. Are you saying... there is an unspeakable connection between the two?"
Zheng Dehao nodded heavily and said in a deep voice, "Your Highness is intelligent, that's exactly what happened. The implications are probably very complicated, and there must be a deeper conspiracy quietly plotting behind the scenes."
"Your Highness, the leader of the Imperial Guards, Wei Zheng, requests an audience."
"During my secret search, I found a suspicious person at the place you mentioned. She was a woman who looked to be around eighteen or nineteen years old. However, some of our evidence suggests that she may be secretly connected to Hong Feng."
"Let's go. I want to see her in person."
——
In the slightly dim boudoir, Luo Sanrong's eyes were attracted by the flowers embroidered on her mother's shelf.
She slowly approached, the flower seemed to have a magical power that made her unable to look away. After hesitating for a moment, she whispered tentatively, "Is this a white camellia?"
Xiulan's embroidery needle didn't stop, still moving across the embroidery cloth. There was a hint of melancholy in her eyes as she whispered, "Yes! It's been so long, and you still remember it."
Luo Sanrong's thoughts drifted away in an instant, and the handkerchief on Lord Shang's desk appeared in her mind. The embroidery technique on the handkerchief was exactly the same as her mother's.
She recalled the complicated expression on Lord Shang's face when he saw the handkerchief, and a hint of speculation arose in her mind.
She turned her head and looked at her mother with a probing look in her eyes. She asked again tentatively, "Dad, do you know the meaning of Mom embroidering this flower?"
Xiulan's movements suddenly stopped, and the embroidery needle in her hand almost pricked her finger.
She hesitated for a moment, with a hint of uncertainty in her voice: "You should know!" In fact, she herself could not be sure. Over the years, she had never mentioned to her husband the reason for embroidering the white camellia.
But every time she handed over the handkerchief embroidered with white camellia, her husband would keep it solemnly. Perhaps he knew the meaning of it.
Xiulan's gaze shifted from the embroidery cloth to Luo Sanrong's face.
Seeing her daughter's eyes without any light and with a sad look on her face, she felt heartbroken.
She reached out and gently stroked Luo Sanrong's cheek, her movements so gentle that it felt like she was touching a fragile treasure. She murmured, "Are you very sad?"
Luo Sanrong slowly shook his head, his voice as low as a mosquito: "No."
In fact, her heart was churning with complex emotions, but she just didn't want to talk about this topic anymore. She was afraid that once she got too deep into it, she would lose control of her emotions.
So, she forced herself to cheer up and took the initiative to change the subject and asked, "How did Dad and Mom fall in love?"
When Xiulan heard this, her thoughts instantly drifted back to the past.
Her eyes softened, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and with a faint smile, she began to tell the story: "We lived together in the same village. At that time, many people pursued me. Some people would give me jewelry, which was very beautiful; others would give me wild flowers, which were gorgeous, but your father was different." Having said this, Xiulan paused, as if she was reminiscing about that beautiful time.
This successfully piqued Luo Sanrong's interest. She stopped sorting the threads in her hand and asked, "What did he give you?"
As Xiulan recalled the past, she said with a smile, "He gave me flour and corn, and during the famine, he also gave me wild vegetables and tree bark. In those difficult years, everyone was worried about filling their stomachs. The things he gave me were much more precious than those jewelry and wild flowers.
I thought at the time that if I followed him, I wouldn’t be hungry, so I married him.”
Luo Sanrong listened, stopped tidying up the threads, and couldn't help but complain, "Dad is not romantic at all."
In her imagination, love should be full of poetry and romance, and giving jewelry and flowers is in line with her vision of love, but the things her father gave her are too plain.
Xiulan didn't refute her daughter's words, but just said softly: "For us, in those difficult times, not going hungry and having a place to shelter from the wind and rain and rest were enough. Your father thought the same, which is why he was the first to rise up in rebellion and wanted to change our lives."
After hearing this, Luo Sanrong didn't say anything, but lowered his head again to continue sorting out the thread ends.
But the thread seemed to be deliberately against her, becoming more and more tangled and impossible to untangle.
Just like her thoughts at the moment, complicated and confusing, with so many things to think about that she couldn't find a clue.
She pondered in her heart, what is love really like? Like her parents, simple and unpretentious, supporting each other in life is love; then, does the romantic love she longs for in her heart really exist?
Various images kept appearing in her mind, sometimes it was the scene of her parents relying on each other; sometimes it was the affectionate look on Lord Shang's face when he looked at the handkerchief.
All this plunged her into deep confusion.
In this slightly quiet boudoir, the mother and daughter were each immersed in their own thoughts, with only the subtle sound of Xiulan's embroidery needle moving through the cloth.
——
In the room with carved beams and painted rafters, Shang Gong stood with his hands behind his back, quietly standing in the shadow by the window, as if he had merged into the thick shadow.
The light from outside the window struggled to squeeze in, but it was unable to penetrate the layers of darkness and could only cast a blurry shadow in front of him.
The candlelight in the room flickered gently, and the faint light seemed so helpless in the darkness, adding a bit of eerie feeling.
Wei Dao stood straight, like a cold statue, quietly following behind Shang Gong.
His face was hidden in the shadows, only his eyes flashed with a cold light, like cold stars in the dark night, revealing a chilling sharpness.
At this moment, he was lowering his voice and telling Shang Gong everything that happened last night.
After a long while, Lord Shang frowned slightly and spoke slowly, his voice sounding as if coming from a deep ancient well: "You mean, when you arrived, Luo Ye had already disappeared?" The voice was low and suppressed, as if carrying endless doubts and thoughts.
Weidao nodded slightly and replied, "Yes." This short word sounded particularly clear in the silent room, as if a heavy hammer hit people's hearts.
Shang Gong murmured to himself, his voice as soft as a mosquito's: "But, how could it be?" His eyes were full of confusion, as if he was trapped in an unsolvable mystery.
Weidao thought for a moment and speculated, "It must be because the imperial guards' searches have become increasingly strict recently." There was a hint of uncertainty in his tone. After all, this was just his guess.
Shang Gong suddenly turned around, staring at Wei Dao with a sharp gaze, and asked, "Didn't you say that she knew nothing about her father or the Red Maple Society?" His eyes seemed to be able to see through people's hearts, making people shudder.
Wei Dao paused slightly, as if he was considering his words, and then replied, "Yes, when I tested her, she seemed to know nothing." His voice was still steady, but the slightly flickering look in his eyes revealed a hint of unnaturalness.
Shang Gong sighed, waved his hand, and said, "Okay, you can leave now!" His voice was full of fatigue, as if he had aged a lot in an instant.
Upon hearing this, Wei Dao turned and was about to leave. Just as he was about to step out of the room, Shang Gong's voice rang out again behind him: "However, for Luo Zhen, the safest place is always the Red Maple Society."
Weidao paused and remained silent.
He stood there quietly, his figure looking particularly lonely in the dim light, like a forgotten sculpture.
After a moment, he bowed slightly and retreated silently, leaving Shang Gong alone in the dim room, lost in deep thought...
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