Chapter 51

The street held few pedestrians; Jiang Mingyu followed behind Prince Qi on horseback, with occasional passersby glancing over, none daring to approach.

Jiang Mingyu frowned slightly, silently thinking: “Yes, it must be this way.” A flicker of alertness passed through his eyes, as if sensing something unusual.

“If my method truly failed, there would be mass coal smoke poisoning.” Jiang Mingyu’s voice grew lower, thick with latent concern.

A terrifying image surfaced in his mind: people engulfed in smoke, struggling to breathe, trapped in danger.

His gaze turned colder, a chilling aura spreading unmistakably.

“But no one else suffered any harm—it’s suspicious. This death case has too many oddities; someone clearly orchestrated it.”

Jiang Mingyu furrowed his brow deeply, sensing an invisible hand manipulating the entire affair—this was no accident.

“But it’s also possible the victim had an accident while burning coal alone...”

Jiang Mingyu’s tone grew uncertain; he began considering alternative possibilities.

He understood the matter was not simple—many unknown factors needed consideration.

At that moment, Jiang Mingyu felt someone watching him.

His gaze instantly locked onto Prince Qi, seated atop his horse—he noticed something odd in Prince Qi’s eyes: “Minister Jiang, muttering to yourself again?”

Prince Qi’s tone carried a hint of mockery.

Jiang Mingyu smiled faintly, revealing none of his inner suspicions: “Are you scared you’ll lose your head just from thinking about it?”

His voice held a cold detachment, as if already mentally prepared for the truth about to be uncovered.

Prince Qi suddenly revealed a sneer: “Reap what you sow. If you knew this day would come, why did you act as you did?”

His tone brimmed with disdain and ridicule, clearly relishing Jiang Mingyu’s predicament.

Jiang Mingyu remained silent; he knew he was trapped, with no escape from this situation.

After a stick of incense burned, the victim’s house came into view—dilapidated and shabby, plaster peeling, doors and windows loose, faintly emitting the scent of coal smoke.

A foreboding sensation rose in Jiang Mingyu’s chest; this humble environment seemed subtly linked to the case’s oddities.

“Here we are, Minister Jiang,” Prince Qi sneered. “Go in and inspect your ‘masterpiece.’”

Jiang Mingyu understood Prince Qi’s “masterpiece” was a mockery of the dead; he sighed inwardly—Prince Qi had no intention of fair justice, only using this to eliminate him as a threat.

The room was empty; the corpse lay still, a black smudge of coal residue still on its lips.

Jiang Mingyu carefully examined the humble room: half-burned coal remained in the brazier, water stains marked the floor, thick dust coated the windows—each detail hinted at something suspicious.

Prince Qi sneered: “You have half an hour to decide how you’ll confess.” Then he and his men exited, leaving Jiang Mingyu alone in the cold room.

The door slammed shut, leaving Jiang Mingyu utterly alone in the room.

He stood silently in the center, gazing at everything around him.

Dust-laden windows and dimly lit corners formed an eerie, mysterious atmosphere.

Half an hour passed; the knock on the door came as promised—harsh and impatient: “Minister Jiang, done gawking yet?” The voice carried undeniable pressure.

Jiang Mingyu slowly opened the door; Prince Qi stood before him, face twisted in mockery.

He sneered: “After all that brooding, find any excuse to clear yourself?” His words dripped with provocation and scorn.

Jiang Mingyu’s lips curled slightly: “I’ve found something.” His tone carried quiet confidence and disdain—as if he had already uncovered the key to overturning the situation.

Prince Qi sneered again: “Jiang Mingyu, before a murder charge, how dare you speak such nonsense?”

His voice brimmed with disbelief and threat, utterly dismissing Jiang Mingyu’s defense.

Jiang Mingyu shook his head gently: “Don’t rush—there’s more.” His tone carried a faint smile, as if he already had a further plan in mind.

Saying this, he took Prince Qi’s hand and walked straight into the room.

Others followed closely; tension filled the room.

Jiang Mingyu’s gaze scanned the room, searching for more clues.

After a moment, his eyes settled on the dusty window.

His eyes gleamed sharply—he noticed something unusual.

It was deep winter; the window was sealed shut, yet he spotted a clear handprint in the dust on the frame—fresh, unmistakable.

Jiang Mingyu stroked his chin, frowning slightly: “The victim said she was working outside when it happened. The killer must have entered and exited through the window.”

His tone carried alertness and calm—he was nearing the truth.

He forcefully pushed open the window; a cold wind rushed in. At the same time, a pale blue strip of cloth was blown into Jiang Mingyu’s line of sight.

He caught it precisely—the water stains on it revealed something.

Jiang Mingyu sneered: “As I thought.” His tone carried deep certainty and deliberation—as if he now held irrefutable evidence.

“Ma De, do you really think this will let you slip away?” Jiang Mingyu suddenly turned to Ma De, voice cold and warning.

Ma De rolled his eyes: “What do you intend to do?” His tone brimmed with contempt and provocation.

Jiang Mingyu smiled faintly: “You’ve always hated me, haven’t you? You resented Xia Duo’s death.”

His voice carried reasoning and deduction—as if he had unraveled a vast conspiracy.

At the mention of Xia Duo, Ma De’s anger exploded: “So what?” His tone brimmed with fury and resentment, as if long-suppressed emotions had finally burst free.

Jiang Mingyu calmly shook his head: “So you killed that man and framed me?”

His tone carried firmness and condemnation—as if he had uncovered one corner of the truth.

“To take a life so carelessly, Ma De—what crime do you deserve?”

Jiang Mingyu’s voice rang with accusation and resolve—as if he had already pronounced Ma De’s guilt.

His words left everyone present stunned.

Ma De’s face darkened; he roared: “Bullshit! What evidence do you have? In broad daylight, you dare lie with your eyes open!”

Jiang Mingyu reached into his sleeve and pulled out the narrow, tapering strip of cloth.

He raised his hand and lightly pointed at the red-trimmed hem of Ma De’s robe: “This—wasn’t it torn off when you hastily climbed through the window and snagged it on the frame?”

Ma De could not hide his panic; his hands clenched tightly, his gaze darting nervously.

Only now did he notice a small, unnoticed tear on his robe’s hem.

Jiang Mingyu gave him no chance to recover—he crouched down, pressed the cloth strip against the tear on Ma De’s robe, and compared them closely.

The length, color, and edge of the cloth strip matched the tear on the robe perfectly.

“How about that? Perfect fit, isn’t it?” Jiang Mingyu looked up at Ma De, his tone calm yet laced with mockery.

Ma De turned deathly pale, sweat pouring down his face.

He stammered: “This alone isn’t enough to prove I’m the killer... Your Excellency, don’t slander me!”

“Hmph, don’t rush,” Jiang Mingyu stood up. “There’s more evidence coming.”

Prince Qi, watching nearby, also turned pale, a chill rising in his heart.

He never imagined Jiang Mingyu could uncover such damning evidence in this shabby room—he now regretted coming.

Jiang Mingyu remained composed, utterly unfazed by the two men’s shifting expressions.

He walked calmly to the window and pointed to the clear handprint on the frame: “Commandant, is this your handprint?”

Ma De’s pupils shrank sharply: “N-no... not mine!”

“Whether it is or isn’t—test it!” He seized Ma De’s hand and pressed it onto the print—perfect match.

Jiang Mingyu sneered at Ma De’s ashen face: “Commandant, what more is there to deny? Don’t tell me you just climbed in for a casual stroll out of boredom.”

Ma De was utterly broken; his face turned as gray as a corpse’s.

He opened his mouth, but could not refute Jiang Mingyu’s ironclad evidence.

At that moment, Prince Qi, who had been panicking, quickly adjusted his expression and feigned shock: “Commandant Ma, I never imagined it was you, my trusted officer, secretly committing murder! As a soldier, you killed over personal grudges and framed an innocent man—you deserve death ten times over!”

His tone shifted abruptly: “Given this, I shall now impose martial law—execute you as an example!” With that, he drew his sword from his waist, ready to strike Ma De down.

This sudden turn caught Ma De completely off guard.

Before he could utter a full sentence, a flash of cold steel appeared before his eyes.

The blade’s edge nearly touched his nose!