Chapter 202: Loyalty to Ye Jiao

With eyes bloodshot, Gesang Meiduo lunged toward the cliff, only to be dragged back by her guards.

"Who—who fired the arrow?!" she screamed hysterically, her gaze locking onto the archer.

"You obey only the Zanpu?" she demanded, seizing his collar. Her phoenix eyes blazed with fury.

"Your servant… Your servant…" the man stammered, dropping his bow as he stumbled back in fear.

Gesang Meiduo enunciated coldly, "As the Han often say: 'When a general is on campaign, he may disregard the sovereign's orders.' Here, no matter what you do, it is I who gives the orders. Disobedience, recklessness, and sabotaging our cause—I have no use for a servant like you in Tubo."

She released his collar and took a step back, her voice like ice:

"Throw him over."

Before the man could beg for mercy, her guards seized him and hurled him off the cliff. A single, blood-curdling scream echoed into the abyss.

Gesang Meiduo stood at the edge, the fierce wind whipping her hair and flaring her wide robes, nearly knocking her off her feet. The howling gale, like an uncontrollable fate, seemed to drive her toward a destination she was unwilling to reach.

Barely holding her ground, she finally spoke after a long silence, her voice trembling yet resolute:

"Go down there. Saw off General Ye's arm."

"Yes, Your Highness," her men responded in unison, heads bowed.

Only when a few close confidants remained by the cliff did Gesang Meiduo slowly crouch down. She clutched the jagged rocks, curling into herself in silence.

Hatred—yet she knew not whom to hate.

Tears streamed from her blood-red eyes. She lowered her head until her forehead touched the frigid stone and remained motionless.

Clad in a sapphire gown, she looked like a fragment of sky at the world's summit—far removed from clouds, stars, and the smoke of human life.

Li Ce had not slept a wink all night.

His desk was piled high with official records from Jinzhou, city gate logs, and even accounts from an herbal pharmacy.

At dawn, Qingfeng, who had accompanied him through the night, dozed at the door.

Suddenly, Li Ce coughed violently.

Qingfeng jolted upright by instinct, grabbed a cup of hot water, and rushed over, saying anxiously:

"Your Highness, after a full year of convalescence in the capital, your health has just begun to recover. If you continue exhausting yourself like this, how will you endure?"

Since arriving in Jinzhou from the capital, Li Ce had not rested once—each day draining both mind and body.

"Any word of Physician Ye?" he asked.

Qingfeng clenched his fists and shook his head.

"No, sir. Lin Jing went outside the city to search again. He insists the physician must be out there."

Li Ce sipped the tea slowly, his throat itching, and began coughing again.

Qingfeng patted his back until the fit subsided.

"What of those three prisoners Physician Ye used to interrogate?" Li Ce asked.

"All according to your orders," Qingfeng replied. "After the physician disappeared, I acted swiftly, posted guards on them, and forbade all contact. Yet they still deny having seen him."

Li Ce nodded.

"Bring them to the public trial later."

Before leaving, Ye Changgeng had said he was going to expose the poisoner—surely, he had entered the Jinzhou yamen.

His horse had been tied outside the courtyard wall. If something had happened to him, Governor Zhou Ci could not escape culpability.

And that taste in the teacup… that peculiar flavor… It meant not only Li Chen's men were involved, but also Tibetans.

The Tibetans had disappeared along with Ye Changgeng.

Those three prisoners might have seen or heard something.

They had served long in the yamen and were immune to torture and threats.

Still, it was worth a try—to see if their conscience had truly died.

"Has Yan Yun returned?"

Li Ce stepped out, then turned to ask again.

"Not yet," Qingfeng replied, glancing outside. "But he should be back soon."

"Should we not wait a bit?"

"It's barely dawn. Perhaps Zhou Ci will yet return the physician."

Li Ce's face darkened, his pace unyielding.

"I understand now," Qingfeng muttered. "He won't shed tears until he sees the coffin."

Just then, a messenger arrived from Zheng Feng'an, bearing news:

The troops of Puzhou and the Jinzhou rebels had assembled outside the city, locked in a standoff with the Hedong provincial army.

They awaited the Prince of Chu to come explain the case.

"The military commissioner says tensions are high—the rebels have clashed with our troops. He begs Your Highness to come at once."

The commoners had threatened to take their grievances to the capital.

Li Ce had promised an explanation today to keep them at bay.

If he delayed, and they stormed off, and the soldiers tried to stop them, bloodshed would be inevitable.

"Very well." Li Ce took the reins, ready to mount—

When someone rushed to the gate, clutching a long box.

"Your Highness! Someone sent this!"

The box was over two feet long. Though sealed, the stench of blood wafted from it.

Li Ce moved to take it, but Qingfeng grabbed it first, retreating a step.

"Be careful—it could be a hidden weapon."

"You too," Li Ce warned quietly.

The box opened—no trap within.

Only a freshly severed, blood-soaked arm.

It had been cut not long ago—the blood had yet to fully clot.

The skin was pale from blood loss and covered in wounds, signs of past torture.

Qingfeng gasped and looked to Li Ce, who stepped forward, stood by the box, and reached out—then froze.

Rage and guilt consumed him.

He stared at the arm, his mind going blank—

Like a field buried under snow, cold and desolate, with only the sound of wind tearing through his sleeves.

"Where's the one who delivered this?" Qingfeng asked.

"They left just this," a guard replied, handing over a letter.

Qingfeng opened it and read aloud:

"To the Prince of Chu—come to the location thirty li north of Jinzhou immediately, or you'll receive Physician Ye's leg next. No tricks. We are watching."

Dizziness and trembling overtook Li Ce.

The first time he met Ye Changgeng came to mind—

In a teahouse, laughing boldly, wiping Ye Jiao's hands.

Tall and heroic, frank and generous, loyal and trustworthy.

He'd promised to share mooncakes from the Duke Anguo's manor—and he did.

He vowed to win glory in the north and protect his family—and he did.

At the foot of Kingfisher Mountain, he declared: "As long as I live, none of you will be harmed."

And he kept that promise.

He'd said, "We're family. I despise it most when my own are bullied."

When investigating, Li Ce warned him to be careful.

Ye Changgeng replied, "Rest assured."

This time—he had failed.

Fighting back sorrow, Li Ce knelt, clutching that ghastly pale hand.

It was cold—colder than his own ever-chilled skin.

He's still alive, isn't he?

He must be.

As long as he lives—so long as he lives!

"Go! Out of the city!" Li Ce commanded, rising sharply—

But his fingers brushed something.

Startled, he looked down and pried open the hand, inspecting it closely.

"Your Highness?" Qingfeng had already stepped away. Seeing Li Ce still frozen, he urged,

"Come, hurry! We might still save the physician."

"Where is Yan Yun?" Li Ce suddenly demanded.

Qingfeng replied again—he hadn't returned.

But Li Ce shouted louder and louder, like a madman.

"Yan Yun! Yan Yun! Yan Yun—!"

Qingfeng turned pale with fear, thinking grief had unhinged his lord.

He dropped to his knees, tears falling.

"Even with one arm lost, he can still survive. Your Highness, please stay calm!"

Then a voice rang out from the courtyard gate:

"I have returned! Your servant has returned!"

A figure burst into the yard.

Yan Yun, dressed in commoner's garb, covered in dust and grime, with tangled hair and a weary face—but his eyes burned with urgency.

He threw himself before Li Ce, then quickly knelt and presented an object.

A piece of rice paper, folded with care—ink barely visible through the layers.

Yan Yun spoke with solemn clarity:

…