SU TANG (素醣)

  Day 1, 5th Month of the Lunar Calendar, 6000th Year of the Yun Dynasty, Taishan Province, Tian’an Sect

  Chun Li’s perfectly preserved corpse lay parallel to the newest victim: Governess Pan. Peaceful, if you ignored the fact they were dead. Their grey-tinted skin had the sickly stillness of death, but someone had taken the time to fold their hands neatly over their abdomens, eyes shut as if mid-prayer.

  As per palace custom, the coffins had been laid in a manmade depression that required a few steps to descend as it was believed that the dead should not be raised above the living.

  A thin frost clung to the edges of the coffins. Some enchantment to delay rot. Nothing more human than a corpse with a schedule.

  The Crown Prince stood beside me. Ever silent. Always a presence too sharp to ignore.

  “An Lingqi has assessed the bodies,” he said. “Jiang Feng has summarised her findings. A copy is in your room.”

  I descended the steps. The coffins sat at the lowest tier each one padded with embroidered silk like death had booked first-class passage. I stopped at Governess Pan’s side and leaned forward, bracing my hands against the rim.

  “If the Blossom Deity has already did the inspection, what exactly am I here for?”

  He didn’t answer, just tapped a jade token against his palm. A soft rhythm. A question hiding in plain sight.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t tell me you want me to figure out who did this.”

  Still nothing.

  I turned toward the stairs. “Your Highness, be serious. Please, just let me go back to whatever I was doing before. I’m happy to clean. I’m happy to pour tea and listen to idle women’s gossip. I can’t possibly—”

  I stopped. He wasn’t looking at me, but I saw it. The tiniest sliver of disappointment. Not in me, exactly. But in what I’d just said. In whom I was still pretending to be.

  And I hated that I noticed.

  He grew up in the pit of power. His childhood ended the moment he could stand. No wonder he was always calculating, always composed. There were no second chances where he came from.

  I, on the other hand, had been given more chances than anyone with my particular habit of pissing off nobility deserved. When I’d crossed the Empress. When I used the Emperor’s favour to torment Zhao Lili. Every move had come with a price tag I hadn’t bothered to read. That’s why he had sent me away in the first place. I’d made myself visible to the worst people.

  And now visibility wasn’t just a mistake. It was a death sentence. That’s what Eunuch Sun meant by blunt tools.

  So, I folded my arms into my sleeves, pinching the flesh of my forearm until the pain aligned me. “Apologies, Your Highness. I… misspoke. By decree, I will serve the court in this matter.”

  He didn’t speak, but a faint smile flickered across his mouth. Gone too quickly to be real. And yet, it lifted something tight in my chest. His coldness, at least, was consistent. And right now, that was the only normal left to me.

  “Your Highness,” I said. “What do you need of me?”

  “See if anything stands out.” A pause. Then more softly, “It is time we lay the dead to rest.”

  I inclined my head. Indeed. Unfortunate as it would be not to find the killer, how much more pitiful it was for their bodies to lay exhumed for so long.

  I scanned the women, before deciding to focus on Governess Pan. There was no need to look at Chun Li. I had memorised every sordid detail of her cold body. And seeing her greying complexion would be more unsettling than useful for my investigation. But I could keep enough composure for Governess Pan.

  Her body smelled faintly of charred wood but there were no signs of ash. I tugged at the linen that bound her chest until her sternum was exposed. There was a single pinhole wound just above her heart.

  I hesitated, hand drifting to her hair. Unlike Chun Li, whose corpse had been fished out of a pond like discarded laundry, Governess Pan had been arranged. Her hair curled around her shoulders, artfully styled, with tiny white blossoms threaded through the strands.

  A murder wrapped in a love letter. Or a message.

  “Same wound, different motives,” I murmured.

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  “Is that what you suppose?” His voice came from across the coffin. I looked up. He was studying her hairline, but his eyes shifted toward mine.

  I cleared my throat, fingers pressing into the muscle of my folded arms. “Yes, Your Highness. That’s what it looks like.” I stared at his hands. Slender, still, and perched on the coffin’s edge. That was much easier to face than his gaze. “It feels like one was an accident and one was deliberate.”

  No reaction.

  “I think—is it possible there’s more than one murderer?”

  Chun Li’s death had been messy. Rash. A crime of passion with scratch marks and a badly hidden body.

  Governess Pan was a whole different story. Nothing had been rushed about it. The murderer killed her, moved her body to an isolated place, and spent time arranging her hair. And they would have gotten away if they hadn’t run into An Lingqi who lived near the river. No one would have discovered Governess Pan’s body.

  No, that was the wrong assertion. Whoever they were, they weren’t planning on making this look like an accident. They wanted people to know that there was a murderer on the loose.

  Chun Li’s death was a statement.

  Governess Pan’s death was a testament to their character.

  They had patience. Composure. Control.

  “Do you have someone in mind?” the Crown Prince asked.

  It was no doubt that he already had his theory.

  This was just a formality.

  “Not quite,” I said. “But I’m certain of who it isn’t.” I thought of Ze Lujin, who loomed over my mind like an accusation. “It’s not Lady Ze. She’s unhinged. But not methodical.”

  Not to mention, Ze Lujin lacked the rank or connections needed to slip past the security of the inner palace unnoticed.

  I tugged at my sleeve. There was something else. The wound. It resembled qìjiàn. That legendary blade of condensed magic.

  But I wasn’t about to say that out loud. It was not my place to share these thoughts with him, or anyone for that matter. I had done an awful lot of sharing my opinions and none of it had ended up well.

  That much I’d learnt.

  I rubbed my arm. He should be satisfied with the simple answer.

  He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a token. “This was found on Governess Pan’s body. According to Princess Changping, it doesn’t belong to her.”

  “May I?” I asked, already reaching.

  He passed it over.

  It was white jade. Smooth, with a faint milky swirl beneath the surface, and carved with the telltale ridges of Zhouwei craftsmanship. An artisan’s pride piece. But that wasn’t what drew my curiosity. The token shared a similar design to the embossed cover a certain book I’d been wanting to get my hands on.

  The Velvet Root Compendium.

  Hehehe…

  Hmm? Why is he looking at me?

  Oh right. Focus Su Tang.

  I cleared my throat. “It’s from Zhouwei, Your Highness.”

  “You can tell.”

  I gave him a look and tossed the token back. If you know already, why are you asking me?

  He caught it without looking.

  “What does Your Highness think?”

  He stared at the jade token in his palm. “These are unnatural deaths, and poorly timed. It would be in our best interest to resolve them quickly.”

  “So, you want a conviction, not the truth.”

  Jiang Feng stirred but froze, likely waiting for his master’s cue.

  Nothing came.

  Typical. But the political math worked out clean. Fewer questions meant fewer wars. Especially if the killer was who I thought it was.

  qìjiàn.

  A token from Zhouwei.

  Someone who knew Chun Li.

  Someone with the opportunity to meet Governess Pan.

  There was only one person who fit the criteria.

  But I didn’t want to say it. Not yet.

  “We’ll table this discussion,” the Crown Prince said, voice unreadable. He’s annoyingly sharp at times like this.

  Suddenly, Jiang Feng grabbed my wrist. But his hand was gentle, and his eyes were concerned.

  “You’ve been rubbing your arm this whole time. I…apologise if the earlier attack hurt you.”

  I blinked. I hadn’t noticed, but now that he said it I realised that I was now rubbing my arm vigorously. Since blasting Jiang Feng away, a numb sensation kept echoing in my arm. I hadn’t intended for them to notice, and I wanted to feign ignorance.

  Why did he have to make a deal of it?

  Though I had to give it to him. Trust Jiang Feng to be a gentleman. I turned to excuse myself, but the atmosphere seemed to frost over, and Jiang Feng let go.

  His Highness materialised beside me, almost as if had teleported himself from across the coffin.

  He’s going to ask. The Crown Prince, heir of the Yun Dynasty, is going to ask. He already knows I’m sick. But to tell him it’s because of some seals—seals, conjured during the reign of Liantai Sect—I might as well call for the Grim Reaper to take me now.

  “Are you—”

  “I was cold,” I cut him off. “Friction generates heat.”

  “Okay.”

  I studied his face. Even if he suspected…that was what it had to remain. The moment he knows—for certain—about those Seals, it’s going to become a political problem.

  “Any other questions, Your Highness?”

  “No.”

  “May I leave, Your Highness?”

  “No.”

  “Is that the only answer you have for me?”

  “No.”

  I narrowed my eyes. He didn’t flinch.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I’m waiting.”

  Waiting…

  Oh. Right.

  Now that he had taken me back from Lady Ze, my status had been changed back to being a maidservant of the Crown Prince’s manor. There was nowhere else I could go.

  “What would Your Highness have me do then?”

  If we weren’t going to talk about the serial killer, there weren’t many other conversation starters.

  The Crown Prince didn’t respond. Instead, he reached into the folds of his clothes. I shirked back. What is he doing?

  His hand returned. Alongside some cylindrical object wrapped in silk. The Crown Prince whipped off the silk gauze with the kind of theatrics I expected from a servant.

  My eyes fell on it.

  That’s…that’s…

  “Would you like it?”

  “Yes.” The words were out of my mouth before I could control myself. That’s not the point. I’m not meant to show him I’m eager.

  But he’s holding it. He’s giving it to me.

  The Thousand Petals Diary. The REAL one.

  “Then back to your question.” He offered a small, rare smile. It was so unexpectedly pretty that my inner being resolved to produce the only reaction fitting: a scowl. The kind you’d reserve for a worm.

  Still, he remained undaunted.

  “Will you join me for the Imperial Hunt?”

  Imperial Hunt. Sounded like another royal shenanigan that was soon going to become my problem. But if it meant having The Thousand Petals Diary…it’s most definitely worth it.

  I dusted my sleeves. “As Your Highness commands.”

  He leaned in slightly. “Looking forward to then.”