The Prince Consort Is Also Pretending To Be Affectionate Today - Chapter 10

10: Too Close

Perhaps due to the investigation or some other reason, Ji Rongjin hadn’t seen Shen Zhuwan for several days in a row.

The entire household of the Minister of Revenue, 145 people in total, had been brutally killed with two stabs each—one to the heart and one to the crown of the head. From an eighty-year-old elder to an infant in swaddling clothes, none were spared.

Except for one person who had escaped the massacre by being away on sick leave. However, upon learning of the tragedy, that person fainted from shock and, when questioned, claimed to know nothing. Ji Rongjin thoroughly investigated the individual’s background, discovering only that he was an orphan who had served diligently as a household servant in the Minister’s residence for years. With both witnesses and evidence pointing to his innocence, he was eventually released without charge.

After an autopsy, the coroner found traces of a sustained hypnotic drug, Hunshi Powder, in the dinner served at the Minister’s residence. Those who consumed it would feel drowsy within two hours and fall into a deep sleep within four. Based on the stomach contents of the victims, it was determined that the drug had been ingested starting in the afternoon, with people succumbing to its effects throughout the evening and ultimately dying in their sleep that night.

Ji Rongjin and the officials from the Court of Judicial Review traced the source of the drug to the water supply of the Minister’s household.

The method and cause of death were identified, but not a single clue about the perpetrator was found at the scene.

The killer was highly skilled and professional. Combined with the effects of the drug, a single person with decent martial arts skills could have carried out such a massacre.

This very fact made it even harder to uncover the mastermind behind it.

After six or seven grueling days, Ji Rongjin still hadn’t found any leads on the perpetrator.

That night, after bidding farewell to the officials at the Court of Judicial Review, Ji Rongjin hurriedly returned to her residence.

It was late, and clouds obscured the moonlight, leaving the vast Princess’s Mansion shrouded in darkness, eerily silent.

A chill crept up Ji Rongjin’s spine as she inwardly cursed, for the nth time, the lack of streetlights in ancient times. She quickened her pace, as if to bolster her courage.

Rustle, rustle.

A sudden strange noise made the hairs on Ji Rongjin’s back stand on end. She spun around and shouted, “Who’s there?”

No one answered. The surroundings were deathly quiet.

Swallowing hard, Ji Rongjin turned back and picked up her pace. But just then, the eerie rustle, rustle sounded again.

She broke into a desperate run, her heart pounding in her throat. When a faint light appeared ahead, she didn’t hesitate, sprinting toward it while screaming, “Help!”

Shen Zhuwan was walking along the path, with Jinxi holding a lantern beside her. They hadn’t gone far when a cry for help rang out. Moments later, a figure dashed toward them like the wind.

Jinxi, mistaking the figure for an assassin, instinctively moved to act, but Shen Zhuwan raised a hand to stop her. She stood still, watching the approaching figure.

The young woman ran at breakneck speed, her expression filled with panic, as if something terrifying was chasing her. She rushed up to Shen Zhuwan and, without a word, grabbed her sleeve and hid behind her.

“Help! There’s a ghost in the Princess’s Mansion!”

The trembling, terrified voice rang in Shen Zhuwan’s ears. The person behind her clung tightly to her sleeve, pressing her head against Shen Zhuwan’s back, gasping unevenly as if utterly petrified, too scared to even lift her head.

Shen Zhuwan paused, choosing not to reprimand the young woman for her breach of etiquette. Instead, she looked ahead.

In the distance, the shadows of the trees swayed faintly, and the rustle, rustle sound seemed to hint at something eerie emerging.

Soon, a shadow darted through the shrubbery on the right, and a pitch-black creature emerged. As the rustle, rustle sounded again, Shen Zhuwan heard the young woman behind her scream in terror.

“Help! Help! There’s a ghost!”

Feeling the tug on her sleeve, Shen Zhuwan said, “Is this the ghost the Consort speaks of?”

Ji Rongjin: “Help! Help! Help!”

Shen Zhuwan: “…”

She lowered her gaze, sighed helplessly, and called out, “Little Black.”

“Meow.”

The small creature, upon hearing its name, let out a cry and leapt into Shen Zhuwan’s arms.

When Ji Rongjin heard the words “Little Black,” a bad feeling stirred in her gut. Now, hearing the “meow” from Shen Zhuwan’s arms, she froze completely.

Tentatively, she peeked over Shen Zhuwan’s shoulder and saw a sleek black cat lounging lazily in her arms, its demeanor almost smug. When it noticed her, it gave a disdainful “meow.”

Ji Rongjin: “…” To die is one thing, but to die of embarrassment is another.

The person in front of her suddenly tilted her head. Ji Rongjin, still glaring at the cat in frustration, only realized how close they were when Shen Zhuwan’s face turned slightly toward her.

Too close—close enough for Ji Rongjin to see the distinct lashes framing Shen Zhuwan’s eyes, close enough for the faint, cool fragrance to envelop her, close enough for her breath to brush against Shen Zhuwan’s pale cheek, leaving a subtle flush.

Ji Rongjin’s heart pounded fiercely. She stared, dazed, at the flawless profile so near to her, her mind racing: Oh my gosh, she’s gorgeous. One more look.

At that moment, her eyes met Shen Zhuwan’s deep, dark gaze. Shen Zhuwan looked at her, saying nothing, yet her cold, piercing eyes seemed to say everything.

Ji Rongjin abruptly let go, stepping back to a safe distance, her cheeks burning as she scrambled to regain her composure. Clearing her throat, she said, “Actually, I was just playing a game of tag with the cat.”

Shen Zhuwan glanced at her, a faint trace of mockery in her eyes. “Is that so?” she asked.

Holding the cat, with Jinxi carrying the lantern beside her, Shen Zhuwan began to walk. Ji Rongjin hurriedly followed, her peripheral vision catching the wrinkled sleeve where she had gripped Shen Zhuwan.

Clearing her throat again, Ji Rongjin changed the subject. “Princess, why are you out so late? Are you leaving the mansion?”

Shen Zhuwan replied coolly, “I came to find a ghost.”

The black cat in her arms meowed as if on cue.

Ji Rongjin: “…” I feel personally attacked.

She pivoted to another topic. “When did the Princess’s Mansion get a cat? Where does it stay? How come I’ve never seen it during the day?”

Shen Zhuwan: “Naturally, you can’t see ghosts in the daytime.”

Ji Rongjin: “… Cough. Why name it Little Black?”

Shen Zhuwan: “Why not call it Ghost instead?”

Ji Rongjin: “…”

She was thoroughly defeated. After days apart, why had Shen Zhuwan’s words suddenly turned so sharp? Could it be because Ji Rongjin had been avoiding her?

Ji Rongjin doubted that was the case and fell silent, feeling a bit dejected.

After a long walk, they reached a fork in the path. Ji Rongjin let out a relieved breath, ready to bid farewell.

But Shen Zhuwan spoke first. “How is the Consort’s investigation going?”

It was already the sixth day. With only three days left until the ten-day deadline, Ji Rongjin sighed. “We’ve turned over every clue… The Minister of Revenue’s household has practically been dug up three feet deep, and we still haven’t found a trace of the killer. We’ve ruled out the possibility of it being an act of vengeance, though.”

“And,” Ji Rongjin continued, “through a thorough search, we discovered that the Minister had been embezzling funds during his tenure. But beyond that, nothing else. We suspect the killers targeted him to obtain some information or destroy evidence…”

Shen Zhuwan’s expression remained unchanged. “Oh? How so?”

“The Minister’s study was too clean—nothing was there. It’s clear something was taken, likely something tied to secrets. They probably killed him to silence him. Of course, this is just our speculation.”

Shen Zhuwan’s eyes flickered with thought before she looked at Ji Rongjin. “Perhaps the Consort could follow the trail of the drug. It might lead to some clues.”

Ji Rongjin’s eyes lit up. “Does the Princess know the origin of the drug?”

Shen Zhuwan looked away. “I don’t. I’m merely offering the Consort a line of thought.”

Disappointed, Ji Rongjin muttered, “Alright then. Good night, Your Highness.”

“Mm.” Shen Zhuwan nodded, turned with the black cat in her arms, and left.

Out of Ji Rongjin’s sight, the corners of Shen Zhuwan’s full lips curved slightly upward.

Ji Rongjin stood there, lost in thought, both excited about the new lead and frustrated. Shen Zhuwan definitely knew something about the drug and wasn’t telling her!

During her bath, Ji Rongjin couldn’t stop thinking about it. When she stepped out and saw Dongmei nearby, she asked eagerly, “Did the Princess light a lamp tonight?”

Dongmei replied truthfully, “No.”

Perfect.

Ji Rongjin was itching with frustration, tempted to rush to Shen Zhuwan and demand answers. But she took a deep breath and held back. By now, Shen Zhuwan was probably asleep. She’d have to wait.

The night passed, and Ji Rongjin woke up with dark circles under her eyes, brimming with resentment. Shen Zhuwan’s suggestion had kept her up all night, her mind toggling between the case and whether Shen Zhuwan knew something. She hadn’t slept well at all.

She had planned to confront Shen Zhuwan, but was told the Princess had already left the mansion. Though disappointed, Ji Rongjin thought, Maybe she really doesn’t know. She’d have to rely on herself for the investigation.

At the Court of Judicial Review, Ji Rongjin followed Shen Zhuwan’s advice and ordered a trace on Hunshi Powder. Sure enough, they found something.

Due to its complex preparation, difficulty in production, and potential lethality in high doses, Hunshi Powder was rarely sold in pharmacies. To obtain it, one either needed an in-house physician or access to special channels.

Ji Rongjin leaned toward the latter—special channels.

On the ninth day, she uncovered the supplier: Xuange.

Xuange was an extremely secretive organization, known to very few in the Daqian Dynasty—mostly nobles and wealthy merchants.

By chance, Ji Rongjin had learned of Xuange’s existence the previous day while chatting with Chang Qingshan after court.

She also learned a bit about Chang Qingshan’s background.

The son of a wealthy merchant from Jiangnan, he came from a family where he was the only scholar in three generations. Flush with money, he had been a minor official in the Ministry of Rites two years ago but was promoted to Vice Minister of Rites the previous year.

Ji Rongjin was stunned. His rise was so meteoric, one might think he was the one who’d time-traveled.

Chang Qingshan gave a shy smile. “Last year, a major corruption case swept through the court, and unfortunately, nearly all the officials in the Ministry of Rites were implicated. I was the only one spared, and since they couldn’t fill so many vacant posts quickly, I was promoted several ranks overnight.”

Looking at the fair-faced young man whose expression screamed “wealthy” and “easy to fool,” Ji Rongjin wailed dramatically, “I’m reporting you, brother! You’ve done nothing wrong, but my disgusting jealousy and pathetic pride have completely broken me. I’m utterly defeated, my armor cast aside…” [1]

After her theatrical outburst, Chang Qingshan scratched his head, bewildered. “Should I donate some funds to the Court of Judicial Review for the investigation?”

Ji Rongjin’s demeanor shifted instantly, all business. “How could I impose? When are you donating? How much? Can I carry it alone?”

Chang Qingshan: “…”