Chapter 615: The Duke Naturally Has His Own Method!

Chen Yan sized up Guangling King Murong Yuan, his gaze slowly sweeping over the clenched fists, the pallid knuckles, and the forced stern expression on his face; unhurried, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, he suddenly shouted loudly, "So you're taking someone!"

The moment the words fell, the embroidered-uniform agents stationed throughout the Shufang stepped forward with clanging strides, advancing two paces.

The silver-thread embroidery on the dark‑blue Flying‑Fish robe glimmered coldly in the candlelight, and the sheath of the embroidered spring sword at his waist clanged with a muffled thud, making the air in the room feel a few moments frozen.

Chen Yan shifted his tone, casting a sideways glance at the increasingly sallow Murong Yuan, and, half‑smiling, half‑mocking, retorted, "Otherwise, why does this Duke muster troops at such a late hour—are you simply bored?"

Murong Yuan furrowed his brows, his Adam's apple jerking sharply, and whispered repeatedly, "Capture someone?"

The two words slipped out of his teeth like ice, carrying a hint of incredulous panic.

He snapped his gaze up, eyes like poison‑coated blades, slashing across Chen Yan's smiling face, sweeping over Yuwen Ze's calm brows, then over the expressionless, imposing embroidered agents; a chill crawled up his spine, yet he forced himself to stay composed, his chest heaving violently, and again demanded loudly, "Chen Zhuguo! Without any evidence, who are you trying to capture?"

"Without evidence?" Yuwen Ze heard that and seemed to have heard a cosmic joke; he lifted his hand, his slender finger slowly pointing at Murong Yuan, then sweeping over the solemn Ye Jingjie and the forced‑calm Chen Zhizhu, a cold smile curling his lips, he said leisurely, "Guangling King, just now your group's conversation was laid out so clearly and in detail…"

"Raising troops to serve the king is a lie; usurping Zhou to restore the state is the truth!"

"Proclaiming a young heir is false, monopolizing power is real, and finally you intend to eradicate my Yuwen royal clan completely, eliminating any future threat."

"Such wolf‑like ambition and treacherous intent are plainly exposed!"

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp as a hawk, staring straight at Murong Yuan, and asked meaningfully, "So you still intend to wriggle out with clever arguments?"

Murong Yuan inhaled deeply, his chest heaving more violently, staring fixedly at Yuwen Ze as if to devour him alive, and after a long moment clenched his teeth to force out, "You… what did my men and I just say?"

He stuck out his neck, showing no hint of doubt, but with righteous confidence and an unchanged expression retorted, "It was merely a casual chat between master and servant, nothing more!"

"Just idle talk about past and present gains and losses, discussing former dynastic affairs—there was never a single word of treason!"

"You break into the princely residence, fabricate crimes out of thin air—are you trying to frame me?"

Ye Jingjie, seeing this, stepped forward, eyes narrowed, his face full of indignation, loudly echoing, "Chen Zhuguo, Prince of Ancheng! You two are pillars of Great Zhou, beams of the Court—how can you so carelessly, without discernment, spout false accusations against good men!"

"If today's matter spreads, how will the world view you two?"

"How will they view Your Majesty and the Grand Preceptor!"

Every word and phrase carried the intent of execution.

Attempting to elevate the matter to the level of court reputation forced Chen Yan and the other to tread cautiously.

Chen Zhizhu also quickly responded, his eyes blazing at Chen Yan, saying emphatically, "Especially you, Chen Zhuguo!"

"The world calls you a modern beacon of justice, decisive as a deity, impartial and selfless; countless commoners revere you as a god!"

"Yet today you come with all this armor, forcibly entering the Prince's residence, and based on a few baseless rumors, you seek to convict us of treason; doing this, won't you fear the common folk's ridicule once it spreads?"

"Aren't you afraid of chilling the hearts of loyal ministers and righteous heroes across the land!"

The three sang in unison, forcibly turning the ironclad proof of treason into a fabricated conspiracy of baseless rumors.

That righteous demeanor seemed as if they truly suffered a grave injustice.

Chen Yan listened to their rebuttals, not a hint of anger, but instead clicked his tongue, emitting a light tut.

He crossed his arms, watching the three defiant rebels with keen interest, as if savoring an especially brilliant farce, his smirk deepening, "Guangling King, you truly are a dead duck with a stubborn mouth!"

"We've come this far, and you still think you can use slick words and gestures here to blur right and wrong?"

"Slick words and gestures? Blur right and wrong?" Murong Yuan clenched his fists, his knuckles turning a bluish hue from the strain.

He slammed his palm onto the table before him, the teacup on the desk clanged loudly, scalding tea splashed onto his back of the hand, yet he didn't notice, his Red Eyes glaring at Chen Yan as he roared, "I act righteously and sit upright; I am pure. Innocently framed, how could I ever admit such baseless, fictitious crimes!"

Before the words finished, he shouted toward the Shufang's exit, "Help! Where have the palace guards gone?"

"There's a thief breaking into the palace, framing the Prince—won't you rush in with guards!"

Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze exchanged a smile, showing no intent to intervene; instead they stood calmly in place, watching the standoff like a trapped beast.

Yet after a while, outside the Shufang was eerily silent.

Not a single guard appeared, not even a shadow; only the wind moaning through the window lattice, tightening one's nerves.

Murong Yuan's heart gave a sudden thud, an ominous premonition seized his chest, the sternness on his face faded, replaced by thick panic.

He shouted again toward the door, his voice trembling, "Help! Where are the people! Have they all gone deaf?"

Still no answer.

Yuwen Ze, seeing this, let his smile widen, strolling slowly to stand before Murong Yuan, looking down at the Guangling King with a teasing grin, "Help? What kind of help?"

He gestured to the embroidered agents around who already gripped their sword sheaths, ready to draw, then pointed to the faint dark‑colored hems visible outside the door, and said leisurely, "The King, Chen Zhuguo, and all these embroidered agents stand here—do you think anyone can still come into this palace?"

He paused, deliberately lowering his voice, his tone laced with cruel mockery, "From the moment we stepped into Guangling King's residence, those guards of yours were already captured by the Mingjing Si."

"Oh, right, and those Suicide Warriors you hid in the shadows have also been cleared out!"

"Even if you scream your lungs out now, no one will come to save you..."

Murong Yuan, enraged, his scarlet eyes gouging at Yuwen Ze and Chen Yan, the fire in his chest nearly consuming him, his lips trembling, he forced out, "You… you!"

Yet the hatred and venom in his heart clogged his throat, leaving him speechless, only a beast‑like growl escaping.

"Prince!" Chen Zhizhu, a bit clearer than Murong Yuan, quickly darted his eyes and hoarsely warned, "Don't waste words with those two!"

Before the words finished, he raised his voice sharply, each word ringing, as if to make the whole palace hear, "Enter the palace! Go to Your Majesty, appeal to the Grand Preceptor!"

"Accuse them of trespassing the palace and framing loyal ministers!"

"Right!" Murong Yuan seemed injected with a sudden vigor; light flashed before his eyes, veins bulging on his neck, as if clutching a last lifeline, his confidence swelling, he roared, "I will enter the palace to accuse you!"

"Severely punish you all!"

"Illegally entering the Prince's residence and framing the Prince—these two charges are enough to strip you of your official robes and send you to Tianlao!"

He thought these words would scare Chen Yan and the other away, but unexpectedly, Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze exchanged a glance and couldn't help bursting into laughter.

"Hahaha!"

The bright laughter rang through the chaotic Shufang, like a sharp knife stabbing deep into Murong Yuan's heart.

Yuwen Ze's smile faded, he slowly rose, looking at Murong Yuan, shaking his head helplessly, his tone full of mockery, "Guangling King, should I call you naive or childish?"

Chen Yan raised his hand, pointing at the tightly shut Shufang door, his fingertip tinged with casual sarcasm, "If you want to lodge a complaint, you first need to get out—through this Guangling King's palace gate, right?"

As the words fell, his gaze hardened, and he barked, "Seize them!"

"At your command!"

The embroidered‑uniform envoys surrounding them answered in unison, their voices trembling people's eardrums.

They lunged forward like wolves and tigers, the chains in their hands flashing coldly, bearing straight for Mu Rong Yuan and the other two.

Mu Rong Yuan was instantly startled, struggling violently, and a terrified howl rose from his throat: "What are you doing!"

"I am the Guangling King!"

"How dare you lay a hand on me!"

But before he could finish, the two embroidered envoys suddenly leaned forward, their iron‑clamp‑like hands gripping his nape, and their knees forcefully pressed against his lower back.

A crisp "crack" rang out, Mu Rong Yuan's spine seemed about to be crushed, a wave of excruciating pain swept his body, and he couldn't help a mournful scream: "Ah!"

Chen Zhizhu and Ye Jingjie were no exception, each having both hands seized by the two embroidered envoys and pressed to the ground.

Their cheeks pressed against the cold ground, the chill made them cough repeatedly.

Even the steward cowering trembling in the corner couldn't escape, seized by the two embroidered envoys by his collar and dragged out, then slammed heavily onto the ground.

Mu Rong Yuan's hair was disheveled, dust‑covered, his Red Eyes like blood, staring fixedly at Chen Yan; even though he was pinned immobile, he refused to give up, roaring with all his strength: "Chen Yan! Yuwen Ze! You are misusing public instruments, persecuting loyal ministers!"

"No evidence—on what grounds do you seize this King!"

"Evidence?" Chen Yan raised an eyebrow, as if hearing a funny joke, lazily shrugged, and laughed as he retorted, "Who says this Duke has no evidence?"

He said this while snapping his fingers crisply.

"Bring it up!"

At the command, the side door of the Shufang was pushed open from outside.

The two embroidered envoys escorted in a maid, her whole body covered in wounds.

The maid's hair bun was disheveled, her clothes torn, her arms and cheeks covered with bluish‑purple bruises; upon seeing Yuwen Ze and Chen Yan, she collapsed like a startled bird, repeatedly kowtowing, crying and pleading: "Spare me, Commandery Prince! Spare me, Duke Chen Zhuguo!"

"I, a lowly maid, was only momentarily blinded by money, greedy and careless, and was inadvertently deceived, committing a grave mistake!"

"I hope you both grant mercy, spare this lowly life of mine!"

Chen Yan walked over slowly, looking down at her, reached out and pinched her chin, forcing her to lift her head.

His gaze was cold and sharp, sweeping over the four pinned to the ground; his voice was calm yet carried undeniable authority: "Now, look among these four—who gave you the silver, and who ordered you to do that deed!"

The maid's eyes flicked quickly over the four faces, finally landing on the steward who was trembling all over.

She seemed to have grasped a straw of redemption, pointed at the steward, and shouted resolutely: "It's him! It's him!"

The steward's whole body stiffened, his face turning as pale as paper.

The maid, still eager to add more, spoke so quickly it seemed she wanted to spill everything: "It was this person who approached the maid!"

"He gave the maid a hundred taels of silver, and told her to secretly place that wooden doll engraved with the Crown Princess's birth eight characters in the outer courtyard of the palace today, in a conspicuous spot!"

"Every word I say is true; I dare not utter a single falsehood!"

"No! It wasn't me!" The steward, like a cat whose tail was stepped on, thrashed wildly, hoarsely denying, "You've mistaken the person!"

"I don't know you at all!"

"You slanderously accuse others!"

"Blood‑mouth slander?" the maid shrieked in rebuttal, eyes bulging, "You gave me a hundred taels of silver, and that silver bears the seal of your money shop!"

"Even if it turned to ash, I would still recognize you!"

"You even said that after the deed is done, give me two hundred more taels, so I can flee far away!"

"How dare you deny it!"

Those words thundered like a sudden lightning, exploding loudly in the Shufang.

The steward's face completely lost its color, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

Yuwen Ze walked slowly to Mu Rong Yuan's front, looking down at his disheveled state, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, his tone full of mockery: "How is it?"

"Guangling King, now you have no way to deny it, right?"

Mu Rong Yuan lay on the cold Blue Bricks, his back firmly pressed by the embroidered envoys' knees, unable to move.

His mind raced, desperately analyzing the maid's earlier words for a flaw, and suddenly as if seizing a lifeline, he jerked his head, his gaze fixed on the shriveled steward beside him, and shouted sternly: "Song Nanting!"

That angry shout, bearing thunderous force, made Song Nanting shudder all over.

Mu Rong Yuan immediately followed with an unhesitant, vehement accusation, each word dripping with clenched‑tooth hatred, as if to pin all guilt onto the other: "How could you, behind my back, commit such a heinous act of treason!"

"Daring to collude with outsiders, practice witchcraft to harm the Commandery Prince's wife, and even attempt to smear dirty water on my head!"

"What audacity!"

The steward's mind buzzed, momentarily dazed, his lips trembling as he instinctively replied: "I… am…"

But as soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly snapped back to his senses.

The Prince was trying to shift all the blame onto himself; if he could bear all this and later extricate himself, he would guarantee his family a lifetime of wealth and peace.

At that thought, the steward seemed to make a firm decision, abruptly raising his head, a flash of resolve in his eyes, straightening his back, and shouted loudly at Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze: "Yes! It was I who did it! I did it all!"

He inhaled deeply, his voice growing louder, bearing the ruthless resolve of burning one's own boat: "It was I who bore an old grudge against the Grand Preceptor, harbored malicious intent, and devised this poisonous scheme, hoping to kill two birds with one stone—harm the Commandery Prince's wife and stir conflict between the Grand Preceptor and Your Majesty!"

"From start to finish, this was solely my plot, having nothing to do with the Guangling King!"

Mu Rong Yuan heard this, his taut nerves suddenly relaxed, and he silently exhaled a sigh of relief.

He hurriedly lifted his head, looked at Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze, his face full of post‑disaster relief, and hurriedly said: "Chen Zhuguo, Commandery Prince! You two, look!"

"Song Nanting has been caught!"

"Everything is his doing alone, unrelated to this King!"

Chen Yan glanced at the steward, a half‑smile curling his mouth, let out a light sigh, his tone tinged with amusement: "Loyal servant, truly precious!"

Then, his tone shifted, the smile on his face deepening, yet with a chilling hint of regret: "What a pity, this Duke still has some items here, I'm afraid it would disappoint Steward Song's so‑called 'loyalty'…"

"The evidence of your collusion with Gao Changjing, plotting rebellion, is still in this Duke's hand!"

Having said that, he loudly ordered: "Bring it up!"

"Yes!"

A few embroidered‑uniform envoys stepped forward, holding a rosewood tray on which several letters were neatly arranged, along with a few jade pendants of different styles and seals.

They hurried up to Mu Rongyuan and slammed the tray down heavily on the floor.

In the candlelight, the handwriting on those letters was clearly visible; they were in Mu Rongyuan's and Gao Changjing's own hands, the text filled with scheming calculations and details of inside‑out coordination.

At the end of each letter was the two's private seal, the seal paste bright red and not yet fully faded.

Those jade pendants were the two's secret messengers, the engravings on them unique and impossible to forge.

Mu Rongyuan's gaze fell on the letters and tokens; his pupils suddenly contracted, the color in his face drained completely, his complexion ashen.

He trembled uncontrollably all over, his lips quivered, repeatedly muttering: "This… this… this…".

Even though Mu Rongyuan was usually silver‑tongued, now he could not find any words of defense.

Chen Yan crouched down, looking at the lost, despondent figure, his smile widening, and asked slowly: "How?"

"Prince of Guangling, do you still intend to continue your crafty denial?"

Mu Rongyuan raised his head, his eyes full of incredulous shock and resentment, staring at Chen Yan, his voice hoarse like a broken gong: "Chen Zhuguo… you… how did you get hold of these things?"

These letters and tokens were all hidden in the most concealed secret compartment of the mansion; apart from himself, no one knew.

Chen Yan smiled calmly, stood up, brushed dust from his robe, and said lightly: "I, the Duke, naturally have my own methods!"

Those words left Mu Rongyuan speechless.

He looked at the iron evidence before him, then at Chen Yan's confident demeanor, and finally understood that from the start he had fallen into the net the other had woven.

This trick, before Chen Yan—who once assisted the Grand Preceptor in toppling two Grand Pillars of State—is nothing but a novice wielding an axe at a master carpenter's door, bringing disgrace upon himself…

Mu Rongyuan seemed to have his strength drained, collapsing on the ground, his eyes blankly gazing at the beam overhead, his voice filled with desperate despondency: "I… have lost…".

He recalled that moments ago in the Shufang, he had been high‑spirited, scheming the restoration of the state, pondering how to seize supreme power, how to dominate the world, and now found it utterly ridiculous, a bitter smile involuntarily forming at the corner of his mouth…

Chen Yan's gaze casually swept across the Shufang, landing on the rosewood chessboard in the corner, on which a few scattered pieces still lay.

He turned to Yuwen Ze, smiling as he suggested: "Ah Ze, we happen to have a board; shall we play a game?"

Yuwen Ze nodded, a hint of interest flashing in his eyes: "Fine."

Having said that, he walked straight to the table beside the board and sat down, completely ignoring the disheveled few on the ground.

The two sat opposite each other, one taking black, the other white.

The sound of pieces dropping was crisp and pleasant, standing out as especially harsh in the dead‑silent Shufang.

Mu Rongyuan watched the two brothers, their carefree demeanor, only feeling a wave of anger surge to his head; this was no game, clearly a huge insult to himself!

He sprang up violently, his eyes red as blood, roaring at the two like a beast: "Kill or dismember, do as you please!"

"What are you two doing!"

"Are you humiliating the King!"

Chen Yan twirled a white piece between his fingertips, turning it twice in the candlelight, then placed it unhurriedly on the central point of the board; the drop sounded crisp, tightening everyone's nerves.

He glanced upward at the struggling Mu Rongyuan on the ground, a faint smile at his lips, and said casually: "Don't be hasty!"

His words paused, a hint of deeper meaning flashing in his eyes, and he leisurely added: "And two distinguished guests are on their way!"