Chapter 339: Not Her Handwriting

Ling Feng was startled by Xiao Yin's piercing stare, took a few steps forward and stood beside the bed: "Your Highness... you... awake?"

Xiao Yin didn't move at all, his whole body stiff like a piece of wood.

Such Xiao Yin was something Ling Feng had never seen; Ling Feng was almost frightened senseless, even though when he had escaped from Qi Sha Gu, the Prince still had a hint of vitality.

At this moment the Prince seemed to have even the last trace of vitality drained away, like a living corpse lying stiffly there.

Ling Feng's throat felt choked, and he was a little sobbing.

He slowly reached out his hand, intending to help the Xiao Yin lying on the bed sit up.

"Prince, mourn in peace; the dead cannot be revived. I have led people to search that ruin for a long time, but found nothing..."

Xiao Yin pushed himself up from the bed and slowly sat up.

Ignoring Ling Feng's outstretched hand, he got off the bed and staggered out the door.

"Your Highness!" Ling Feng hurried after him; Xiao Yin in this state was frightening.

He brought the Wangfu guards and followed behind Xiao Yin.

Before explaining what had happened these past days, Ling Feng slapped himself repeatedly—over a dozen times—splitting the wound on his head, blood seeping through the gauze.

"It's all my fault; I failed to protect the Princess Consort."

"Now that the Prince has returned, I will give him an accounting—let my life compensate for the Princess Consort."

Having said that, Ling Feng drew his waist sword and swiped at his own throat, but Xiao Yin grabbed the hilt.

Xiao Yin coldly looked at Ling Feng and said: "No need; she is petty. If it really was your negligence that killed her, even if you offered your life as compensation, she would still find it distasteful—keep your life, she doesn't want it."

Those words struck Ling Feng down instantly.

These days he truly couldn't hold out; Ling Feng, known as a tough man, had never felt such tragic anguish.

Beneath the ruins of Chongwen Lou lay not only Gu Jiu Ling, but also the maiden he loved most.

His pain could not be spoken to others; he could only press it deep into his heart.

He must get to the bottom of things, avenge Jiu Yue and the Princess Consort, and then atone with his death.

He never expected the Prince to say such a thing—even if Jiu Yue were dead, she would not forgive him.

He gritted his teeth and continued to recount what had happened, leaving no detail untold.

"When I went to the fourth floor to rescue people, the stairway entrance was completely blocked."

"Because the way was blocked, I didn't have time to save the Princess Consort."

"Your Highness, do not entertain any ill thoughts; the Princess Consort's death is mysterious, and you still need to avenge her and wipe away the hatred."

Xiao Yin stumbled out of the Rui Wang Fu, leapt onto his horse, and charged into the dark night.

He had fainted earlier simply from exhaustion; after lying awhile, he felt part of his spirit return.

He rode his horse at full speed to the ruins of Chongwen Lou, where torches lit the surroundings as bright as day.

Many guards were still here desperately clearing debris, hoping to dig up the Princess Consort's remains.

The upper layer had mostly been cleared; at this moment what was dug up included some scorched poetry scrolls not completely burned.

Seeing Xiao Yin approach, these people stopped what they were doing and looked in astonishment at him, moving like a walking corpse.

Immediately Xiao Yin bent over, digging desperately with both hands at the rubble before him.

He moved aside those cold broken walls while softly calling Gu Jiu Ling's name.

Xiao Yin's voice was slightly hoarse, sounding especially mournful in the night.

"Gu Jiu Ling, you're ruthless, you really are!"

"You wanted to spend my silver, didn't you? Then go ahead and spend it—where did you die? Aren't you fond of money?"

"Gu Jiu Ling, is that all you can do? Just seek death for me to watch?"

Xiao Yin dug desperately; his ten fingers were worn to bloody flesh, blood staining the mud, especially shocking.

Ling Feng tried to help Xiao Yin up from the ground, but Xiao Yin shoved him away harshly.

Xiao Yin muttered curses while digging at the clods of earth, meanwhile almost pleading as he called Gu Jiu Ling's name.

He dug madly, cursing and blaming, until his voice gradually grew low and soft.

"Little miss, come out; it's all my fault, don't be angry with me, okay?"

"Please come out, tell me where you are."

"From now on I will obey you in everything; I will never ignore you again."

"But these past days I have truly been stunned by the news from your maternal grandfather, unable to recover."

"Yet why couldn't you wait for me? Please wait a little longer, okay?"

"Little miss, I beg you, I beg you..."

The licentious, wanton Ninth Imperial Uncle of Southern Qi, for the first time showed such a pleading, dejected appearance.

His whole body knelt on the ruins, both hands plunged deep into the mire, feeling no pain anymore.

His forehead pressed against the cold ground, he uttered Gu Jiu Ling's name over and over.

As if summoning the soul of that deceased woman.

With utmost devotion, he even kept kowtowing to Heaven, his forehead worn raw.

Ling Feng watched the Prince in such anguish before him, finally unable to hold back, and burst into tears again.

Then he kicked a guard who was standing there stupidly.

"Hurry up and dig! What are you lot standing around for?"

These people were deeply shaken by Xiao Yin's despair—originally, a man grieving to the extreme would look like this.

When almost everyone was hopeless, suddenly a somewhat younger guard rushed forward holding half a deed.

"Your Highness, this is the manuscript left by the Princess Consort."

Upon hearing the four words "Princess Consort," Xiao Yin quickly lifted his head and snatched the plain paper from the guard's hand.

On that plain paper was written a ci, but half of it had been burned away, and one could not clearly see what was written; the signature was the three characters 'Gu Jiu Ling', unmistakable.

Xiao Yin stared fixedly at those three characters 'Gu Jiu Ling' in the signature, then suddenly shouted loudly: 'Wind lamp!'

Ling Feng also didn't know what his Prince wanted to do, so he hurried over with the wind lamp and brought the lamp close to that half-sheet of manuscript.

Xiao Yin stared fixedly at the three characters 'Gu Jiu Ling'; the characters were written exceptionally beautifully and delicately, a typical flower-pin small regular script.

Xiao Yin's brows furrowed tightly, and the sorrow on his face gradually turned into boundless anger.

These three characters 'Gu Jiu Ling' are certainly not Gu Jiu Ling's handwriting; they are clearly someone else's.

If Gu Jiu Ling could write such beautiful characters, then the sun would rise from the west.

It is obvious that the Gu Jiu Ling who entered Chongwen Lou is not the real Gu Jiu Ling but an impostor.

At that moment, Xiao Yin's brows suddenly furrowed tightly; his eyes held immense surprise, but more so was anger.

Xiao Yin ground his back teeth and spat out each word: 'Gu Jiu Ling! You little bastard!'