Li Jing still accompanied them. He had resolved that if worse came to worst, he would eat a few ants. Were ants truly so dreadful? At most, he could dip them in soy sauce before consuming. Yet Li Jing could never have imagined how agonizing this meal would become.
In the best private chamber of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, Li Jing peeled pomegranate seeds for himself, while Li Ce also ate, with Ye Jiao doing the peeling. As Li Jing ate seed by seed, he caught sight of Ye Jiao deftly stripping all the seeds into a porcelain bowl for Li Ce to scoop up with a spoon. When Li Jing reached for the spoon to take a few bites, Li Ce clutched the bowl away, as if it contained a rare elixir capable of granting immortality.
Resigned, Li Jing abandoned the pomegranate to sip tea instead. The tea was too hot, so he waited patiently for it to cool. Turning, he saw Ye Jiao gently fanning Li Ce's tea, the delicate expression on her face imbued with solemnity, as though a slight rise in temperature might scorch him instantly.
Li Jing furrowed his brows and called for Hu Ji to dance. Indeed, Hu Ji's slender, exposed waist swayed enticingly, the dangling beads and tassels at her hips fluttering like a spellbinding mirage before Li Jing's eyes. Yet no sooner had she begun half a dance than Ye Jiao clapped her hands and said, "Come, come, sit on this young master's lap." Of course, "this young master" was Li Ce.
Li Jing sprang to his feet with a shout, "Absolutely not! Sit with me! I have legs too, and mine are no shorter than his." He was utterly fed up. Could this frail, sickly wraith have transformed overnight into some divine sovereign?
Hu Ji froze, uncertain whether to continue dancing or plop down on someone's lap. Li Ce remained unmoved, quietly eating pomegranate seeds and glancing up at Ye Jiao and Li Jing's quarrel. Whether it was a trick of Li Jing's eyes, he thought Li Ce's expression was filled with the blissful innocence of a cherished child.
Ye Jiao's eyes widened even more than Li Jing's. "A prince comes to freeload food and wine, and now freeloading laps as well?" Laps? Li Jing's face flushed crimson. What was that supposed to mean? Was that something a refined lady would say?
Even Li Ce could not bear it. Clearing his throat and blushing, he rose to mediate: "If Hu Ji wishes, she may sit on the Fifth Young Master's lap. I… cough… fear my frail frame cannot enjoy such pleasures."
Only then did Ye Jiao relent. Indeed, it would be unfortunate if Si Si were crushed to a broken bone. Hu Ji then swayed her hips and took Li Jing's hand to kneel beside him.
Li Jing's temper cooled somewhat, and he ordered several exquisite wines. The dishes were laid out, and Ye Jiao rested her chin on her hand, watching Li Ce eat, occasionally asking, "Is it delicious? How's the balance of salty and sweet? You must also eat this steamed egg—I ate it when I was ill as a child."
"Delicious," Li Ce replied simply. "Quite tasty," he nodded.
"Eat more," Ye Jiao urged. "Try all the delicacies you missed as a child! And also all the treats I enjoyed in my youth. The wonton shop in the East Market that was so good has moved—I'll find out where and take you there. If it's closed, I'll invite the owner to cook for you at home."
"Alright," Li Ce answered succinctly amid Ye Jiao's incessant chatter. He kept his head lowered, appearing absorbed in savoring the meal. Yet the liquor in the corner of the table trembled, reflecting the gratitude etched upon his face. Such tender care had only ever come from his mother. Now, though of age, someone else regarded him with the same childlike concern. Li Ce felt a piece of his missing heart quietly mended this afternoon.
After the meal, the three walked side by side along the alley. Li Jing strode with pride; Ye Jiao's steps had a brisk rhythm, while Li Ce walked more slowly, but with an air of dignified composure.
A servant reminded Li Jing he could no longer stroll and must supervise the construction of the Yuqiong Tower. Li Jing's expression fell again. Since Li Ce had been dispatched to the Jingzhao Prefecture to investigate, Li Jing had to oversee matters personally. He could neither read the blueprints nor cared to, but even standing idle amid the clatter of falling tiles and bricks was a torment.
"Xiao Jiu," Li Jing halted and turned, "how's your case progressing? Hurry back and work!"
Ye Jiao immediately defended Li Ce: "Isn't it your fire that burned the building and made Si Si suffer so much?"
Li Jing, aware of his guilt, complained ruefully, "How was I supposed to know burning a curtain would set the whole building ablaze? It's all your fault for lodging Xiao Jiu at my place, bringing me such bad luck."
Their quarrel resumed until Li Ce suddenly recalled something. His voice turned cautious. "Fifth Young Master, you only burned the curtain that day?"
Li Jing nodded repeatedly. The cloth was attached to the beams—it was hardly surprising it caught fire. A faint smile curved Li Ce's lips as he said, "I recall you mentioned it was Sixth Prince who recommended the Yuqiong Tower, and that he was the last to leave."
Li Jing's eyes brightened in sudden realization. "I see now! It's because of him I've been so unfortunate."
Yet Li Ce felt luck had little to do with it. He had long suspected they had deliberately set the fire, purposely left the corpse exposed, and quite possibly orchestrated Ye Jiao's association with Ye Xi, prompting her to report the matter to the Jingzhao Prefecture. Thus, Imperial Censor Baili Xi, with but a few words at court, had convinced the emperor to grant Li Ce the chance to redeem himself by assisting in the investigation.
Many who had accompanied Li Ce to the imperial tomb had since dispersed across the capital. Many knew he had once sent palace attendants to track down Sima Cheng'en's associates.
Li Ce had been forced into becoming their dagger, a tool for their use. He understood their goals but could not yet identify the mastermind behind it all. Was it the Sixth Prince? Or someone else, a shadowy figure capable of turning the world upside down without leaving a trace?
"How difficult is this case to solve?" Ye Jiao complained, tugging at the fish talisman at Li Ce's waist and inquiring earnestly.
Li Ce smiled gently, the deep dimples on his pale face revealing his answer: "It's manageable."
Everyone said Liu Yan, the Prefect of Jingzhao, was a taciturn man, but in fact, he was quite loquacious when interrogating. To uncover the truth of what happened twelve years ago, Liu Yan questioned dozens, including former court officials and the old retainers of Prince Chen's household.
At last, Liu Yan pieced together the events. Back then, Prince Chen Li Qian was stationed at his fief in Shengzhou, bordering the northern Turkic tribe of the Canghu Chanyu, who suddenly submitted and then rebelled again. The emperor sent Li Qian to quell the revolt. After his victory, Li Qian refused to return the military token, citing lax border defenses and his willingness to remain stationed.
But the emperor would not allow a crowned brother to command troops indefinitely. The capital's decree, rushed over eight hundred li, was sent to Shengzhou. Simultaneously, the emperor dispatched his eldest son Li Long to personally retrieve the token. This was a limit to the emperor's patience—he loathed sibling strife, the bloodshed among kin that weakened the realm and disrupted governance.
Before Li Long could act, the troops at Shengzhou rebelled. Li Qian led his forces south along the Yellow River, vowing to force the emperor to abdicate and seize the throne. Chaos erupted at court.
Then the Crown Prince Li Long led the suppression, and Prince Chen surrendered, forced to drink poison and die.
"Did the Duke of Anguo's household intervene?" Liu Yan asked the informants. After all, the Duke of Anguo was the Prince Chen's consort's maternal family, and his retainers filled the court ranks…