Chapter 203 – Such Arrogance, My Lord

Lin Jing, like Li Ce, had evidently not slept a wink through the night. Their eyes were equally bloodshot, their faces pallid and haggard. The obstinate youth clutched Li Ce's arm tightly, his expression furious, as if Li Ce had betrayed him.

Upon returning from outside the city, he had rushed first to Li Ce's residence. Seeing the severed arm and hearing of the threat, he had chased all the way to the city gates—only to find Li Ce… writing a notice? After finishing it, he was planning to leave the city to meddle in others' affairs?

No matter what the situation, none of it was more important than Ye Changgen. More precisely, nothing was more important than Ye Jiao's brother.

Time was pressing, and Li Ce had no leisure to explain in detail to Lin Jing.

"Take another look when you return," he said as clearly as he could. "The calluses on that severed arm are only on the index and middle fingers; the web between the thumb and forefinger, and the palm, are clean. That arm belongs to someone long accustomed to drawing a bow, not wielding a blade. It's not Ye Changgen's arm."

Ye Changgen was a skilled swordsman, once a soldier on the battlefield, swift and precise in killing.

Lin Jing hesitated, yet insisted, "But Physician Ye was indeed taken! Even if the arm isn't his, that doesn't mean he's safe."

More citizens fled into the city in chaos; a stray arrow even landed before Li Ce. The gate officer shouted to close the gates. Li Ce turned to Lin Jing and said finally, "Do not worry. I've already devised a plan. Ye Changgen is Ye Jiao's brother—and my sworn brother."

He paused, then solemnly declared, "If he dies this time, I'll pay with my own life."

There was a fierce, unwavering resolve in his eyes—a willingness to protect even at the cost of his own life. Only then did Lin Jing release his grip in stunned silence.

Li Ce pushed through the crowd, running against the tide of people surging inward, heading out of the city.

Jinzhou must not fall into chaos. The people—must not die.

In Hedong Circuit, the provincial troops had already clashed with the rebel army from Puzhou. Thankfully, despite scuffles and blows, blades had not yet been drawn. Between the two forces stood a wooden platform over ten feet high. Li Ce swiftly ascended it, finding Hedong Governor Zheng Feng'an and Jinzhou Prefect Zhou Ci already present. The prisoners Li Ce had requested were also brought forward.

They knelt on the platform, being pelted with sticks and clumps of mud from the furious crowd, who dared not let them rise. The jail attendant in the middle had taken the worst of the blows, his face buried in his shoulder, blinking furiously.

The conflict between the provincial troops and the rebels was in part to stop the people from storming the platform. The citizens, gnashing their teeth in rage, climbed upward despite injuries, determined to land a few blows on the kneeling prisoners.

Amid the crowd stood over a hundred Puzhou soldiers, surrounding a man in armor with a grim expression—clearly, Puzhou's garrison commander, Peng Jinrui. He said nothing, merely nodding slightly upon seeing Li Ce.

Li Ce raised his voice to stop the crowd. "Step down! I said I would investigate and give you justice. I never said these men were the murderers who poisoned your kin in Jinzhou prison."

"If not them, then who?!" the people clamored, voices raised in indignation.

Li Ce stepped forward unflinchingly, his gaze resolute. "Then quiet yourselves—and let me speak. First—"

As silence gradually returned to the outer walls of Jinzhou, Li Ce addressed the sea of upturned faces with solemn gravity.

"First, rest assured—your loved ones shall not have died in vain."

Not in vain. Yes. A debt must be repaid, a life taken must be answered. All they wanted was for the dead not to have died unjustly—for justice to prevail. But justice was so hard to come by. Jinzhou Prefecture had long failed to uncover the truth, and the officials only deflected and evaded. Thus, the people had no choice but to stand here, risking their lives to demand justice.

Li Ce wasted no words. He wanted the matter resolved swiftly—so he could search for Ye Changgen.

"To uncover the truth," Li Ce said, "Minister of Works, Ye Changgen, has gone missing. Last night I scoured the documents he left behind and found a thread of evidence. Today, this trial will be public."

He gestured to the three men kneeling on the platform.

"One is the prison cook, one the food delivery servant, the last—the jail warden."

The three turned pale. Before Li Ce's arrival, they had already witnessed the people's grief and rage. An old man had pointed at them, asking how they could be so cruel. A young woman sobbed that her husband had worked hard and cared for the elderly, only to die in his prime. A toddler had clambered onto the stage, wide-eyed, asking:

"Mister, when will my daddy come home?"

Your father will never come home again. Neither will we.

It was too unjust. Those who died in the prison died unjustly. And so did we.

But Zhou Ci had warned them—if they so much as uttered a word of what happened in the prison, their entire families would be executed.

Executed.

Who would have thought the governor of Jinzhou was a heartless wolf in official robes?

The three cried their innocence, glancing at one another, but none dared to speak.

"Among you," said Li Ce, "there is indeed one who is innocent."

"Who?"

"Which one?"

"I say they're all guilty!"

The crowd roared. Li Ce met their eyes until they begrudgingly quieted down.

He spoke coldly, "Physician Ye recorded in his notes the characteristics of the poison. It is extremely rare in the Central Plains. Those who ingest it experience blurred vision or blindness, muscle paralysis, vomiting, diarrhea, dilated pupils, labored breathing—and death. Last night I consulted every medical text in Jinzhou and found that this poison is extracted from rotting flesh, with one critical trait: it cannot withstand heat."

"Cannot withstand heat?" Zheng Feng'an stepped forward, frowning in concern.

"Yes," Li Ce nodded. "Once exposed to boiling water, the poison is rendered harmless. The cook delivered the food while it was still hot—so the poisoner was not the cook."

The cook turned his head sharply, stunned. As though pardoned from death, he trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming as he kowtowed.

"This humble one thanks Your Highness! I shall repay Your Highness in the next life, even as ox or horse!"

He bowed so low he could not raise his head, sobbing uncontrollably.

"No need to repay me," Li Ce said. "Just tell me—what do you know?"

The cook froze mid-kowtow, struck dumb with fear, falling silent.

Li Ce understood. Without pressing him, he continued, "Besides the cook, the other two are the jail warden and the servant. Physician Ye investigated their families, friends, even checked if they had pawned items or borrowed from gambling houses, if they had enemies or old grudges. He found nothing."

He looked at the two prisoners with a gentler tone. "They obeyed orders, treated colleagues with respect. Though humble in station, they were good men. Warden Chen's mother is over seventy; every day, he would bring her a box of soft pastries she could chew. Servant Luo's child is a bright student. Last night I visited the teacher, who said the boy was diligent and gifted, with great promise for the future. But now—"

But now that mother would never taste her son's cakes again. And that child, whose father stood accused, could no longer sit the imperial exam.

Li Ce shook his head. "Last night, I had your families brought here—so that you might see them one last time. Even if I cannot uncover the truth, I owe the families of the wrongfully dead an answer."

These two men knew the truth, but dared not speak—for they had been threatened. Their weakness was their families. With their loved ones present and protected, would they remain silent?

From the corner of his eye, Li Ce noted Jinzhou Prefect Zhou Ci retreating a step. Was it a disguise? He rubbed his eyes as if weary.

Li Ce raised his hand, and attendants led the families of the prisoners onto the stage.

The old mother trembled forward, brushing mud from her son's hair—then slapped him across the face.

"Who told you to poison people? Who told you to commit such evil?!"

The child ran to his father, crying loudly, asking if he would be beheaded.

The jailer and servant burst into wails. If—