"Your Highness, the late Emperor was assassinated. I beg you to give the court and the people an explanation," Minister Tong knelt, his voice ringing out.
Xue Liulan paused. "The Emperor's assassination is a tragedy. Only a few dancers were with him. All but one followed him in death. When Eunuch Guo arrived, the assassins were gone. I have ordered the Ministry of Justice to investigate."
"Your Highness," Minister Yu of Rites knelt as well. "Did the surviving dancer see the assassins' faces?"
Murong Jin frowned. The ministers were united against him. Did they suspect him of regicide to hasten his ascension? She glanced at Guo Shangzhong. The eunuch stood like a statue, staring at the ground.
Xue Liulan looked down at the kneeling ministers, then at the silent court. A cold, mocking smile flickered on his lips.
"She did," he said calmly. "The court artist has drawn their likenesses based on her description. The Ministry of Justice will issue warrants shortly."
"Your Highness." Guo Shangzhong suddenly moved, bowing before Xue Liulan. "The portraits are ready. Should we present them to Your Highness and the lords?"
Xue Liulan was suspicious. What game was the eunuch playing?
"If you delay the funeral, can you bear the consequences?" Xue Zhuoran stepped up beside Xue Liulan, glaring at Guo Shangzhong. Then he turned to his brother, knelt, and cupped his hands. "Your subject begs the Crown Prince to begin the funeral."
"Your brother also begs the Crown Prince to begin the funeral," Xue Moyan knelt.
Murong Jin followed suit.
The officials hesitated, looking at each other, then turned their eyes to the High Priest standing by the spirit banner.
"Priest, what say you?" Xue Liulan asked.
The old priest, white-haired and cloudy-eyed, spoke in a raspy voice. "A pure soul, free of lingering attachments, can return to its origin at any time."
He was siding with Guo Shangzhong.
Xue Liulan felt the net tightening.
"Since the Priest says so, and Father's spirit is still near… let us give the world an answer." He had no choice. If he insisted on the funeral now, it would look like guilt.
The sun climbed higher.
Murong Jin moved to his side, looking up at him. He had lost his family. Now, at his father's funeral, he was suspected of murder. Born into the royal family… what a curse. He couldn't even grieve openly.
"I'm fine," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Your Highness, the portraits are here," Guo Shangzhong said, a hint of a sneer in his voice.
Fifteen guards walked up, each holding a scroll. They knelt before Xue Liulan.
Murong Jin retreated to the ranks of the military officials, watching them closely.
The atmosphere was heavy. The wind snapped the banners, but there was no spirit in the sound. The sunlight felt harsh, blinding.
"Open them." Xue Liulan waved his hand.
The guards untied the ribbons and unrolled the life-sized portraits.
"Isn't that He Chengjian? From the Prince's residence?" A gasp rippled through the crowd like a stone thrown into a pond.
The whispers grew. One of the portraits was indeed He Chengjian, the captain of the Prince's guard. Did this mean Xue Liulan had ordered the hit?
Murong Jin scanned the fifteen portraits. Her mask of calm cracked. They were the Fifteen. Dressed in black, their expressions captured perfectly. But the real Fifteen didn't have such murderous eyes.
"Eunuch Guo, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded, stepping forward.
"Your Highness?" He looked innocent.
"These fifteen portraits. Explain."
"These are the faces the dancer described, drawn by the court artist," he said respectfully, hiding his triumph.
Xue Zhuoran and Xue Moyan watched, helpless. Guo Shangzhong was showing the court that the Emperor's death was connected to Xue Liulan, and that he, Guo Shangzhong, was the loyal servant seeking justice.
"To think they were my own men." Xue Liulan studied the portraits calmly. "Minister Tong, what do you think should be done?"
Tong shivered, his eyes darting to Guo Shangzhong.
"Does Minister Tong still have doubts?" Xue Liulan asked, his voice flat.
"Your… Your Highness, the late Emperor loved… loved you, so… so…"
"So the Crown Prince had no need to commit regicide," Li Yan finished for him, kneeling. "The Emperor had already named him heir. Why would he commit such a heinous act?"
The whispers continued.
Xue Liulan stood before the portrait on the far end, blocking it from view with his body. His eyes, filled with worry and helplessness, met the painted eyes.
"Your Highness." Guo Shangzhong approached.
"Speak." Xue Liulan suppressed his emotions and turned.
Guo Shangzhong paused. He was challenging the prince, but he couldn't push him too far. A cornered dog would jump the wall. He just wanted to clip his wings.
"The lords are waiting for your answer."
"In my opinion," Xue Moyan stepped forward, "He Chengjian must have been hiding in the Prince's residence, deceiving even my brother. Or perhaps he was instructed by someone else to frame him." He glanced at Guo Shangzhong.
"If the Crown Prince truly valued power over family, we brothers would be dead by now," Xue Zhuoran added. "Killing a prince is far easier than killing an emperor."
Minister Yu looked at Guo Shangzhong, then quickly bowed his head. "The Fourth and Sixth Princes are right. I also believe He Chengjian framed the Crown Prince. We must capture him immediately to appease the Emperor's spirit."
"We agree!" The officials chorused.
Murong Jin's brow was locked tight. She watched Xue Liulan. The Fifteen were to him what the Vermilion Bird Camp was to her. Not blood, but family.
He looked up at the sky. The sun was blinding. He swayed.
Murong Jin started forward, but Xue Zhuoran was faster. He knelt beside Xue Liulan, raising his clasped hands just enough for his brother to lean on.
"Your subject begs the Crown Prince to entrust this matter to me. Within half a month, I will give you and the court an answer."
"Good." Xue Liulan gripped his brother's fist. To the crowd, it looked like a gesture of trust. But he knew that without it, he would have fallen.
"I will not fail you." Xue Zhuoran stood, close enough to whisper. "Unless the Fifteen die, he won't stop."
"I know." The words were squeezed through gritted teeth. His hands were ice cold. How did Guo Shangzhong know about the Fifteen? Since when has he been planning this?
Murong Jin relaxed slightly. He looked at her. She gave him a small, warm smile.
He forced a smile back. But the sun was cold. The pain of betrayal, of being sold out by those he fought beside, tore at his heart.
"Begin the spirit journey," the Priest chanted. The coffin was lifted.
Eighty-one bearers surrounded it, symbolizing the return to the origin.
The priest recited the ancient incantations for the soul's peace.
Xue Liulan walked at the head of the procession, numb to the wailing around him.
The dead were gone. The living remained to suffer. His father was with his mother now. Xue Liulan was left with the treacherous court.
The procession stopped at the mausoleum. Xue Liulan stared into the dark entrance.
"May the Son of Heaven return to the peaceful origin, and bless the dragon vein to continue," the Priest sang.
"Please, Your Highness, seal the tomb." Guo Shangzhong presented a stone. When placed, it would trigger the mechanism to lower the massive stone door, separating the living from the dead forever.
Xue Liulan looked at the stone in his hands. He sighed, walked to the entrance, knelt, placed the stone on the ground, and kowtowed deeply.
Rest in peace, Father. The Xue dynasty will not end here.