Chapter 85

Murong Yunhai, looking haggard, reported: “Xingqiu brother, we’ve searched every corner of the city and found no trace of the cook, Che Hongda. He must have slipped out through another gate during the blizzard while we were unprepared.”

A suppressed fury darkened his grim face, clearly showing his deep frustration at this failure.

Jiang Mingyu sneered: “To escape right under my nose during daylight—Che Hongda truly has some skill. I underestimated Huang Chaoran; he’s hiding a formidable asset.”

Murong Yunhai unconsciously flicked his orchid finger, puzzled: “My lord, how can you be certain Huang Chaoran is behind this, and not Prince Qi?”

Jiang Mingyu frowned as he stretched his stiff neck and shoulders, analyzing: “First, I just clashed with Huang Chaoran—the timing fits. Second, Prince Qi wants me dead, but he wouldn’t resort to such a despicable poison scheme; in his arrogance, killing me is like crushing an ant—he wouldn’t bother with such trouble. Most crucially, I heard the Inspector reveal His Majesty is furious with Prince Qi’s actions on the border; his position is already dire. At this moment, he has no time to waste on a trivial figure like me. Therefore, the mastermind can only be Huang Chaoran.”

Tukesiluo, who had just entered, heard only the last sentence, his eyes bloodshot, trembling with rage: “My lord, let’s go arrest him in the state capital!”

Tukesiluo’s face was covered in stubble, his hair wild, like a wounded beast.

Years of hatred toward Huang Chaoran had finally found an outlet; his entire body radiated overwhelming vengeance and killing intent.

“Once we capture Huang Chaoran, I refuse to believe the prison’s instruments won’t force him to confess.”

Tukesiluo gritted his teeth, eyes glinting with cold fury, already plotting every torture to break Huang Chaoran.

With his unkempt beard, he looked ready to storm the capital the moment Jiang Mingyu nodded.

His fists clenched tight, muscles taut with rage, as if he would charge out immediately to fight his enemy to the death.

Jiang Mingyu shook his head: “Without proof, what can we use to arrest him?”

Jiang Mingyu’s expression was calm, brows slightly furrowed, masking his inner turmoil.

He understood this matter was too critical to act impulsively like Tukesiluo.

“Even if Huang Chaoran is weak, he’s the former State Capital’s Chief Secretary, with the powerful Huang and Zhu families backing him—this is impossible.”

Jiang Mingyu’s tone was calm, yet his mind raced through countless calculations.

The Huang and Zhu families held deep influence; confronting such a powerful force demanded extreme caution—no room for error.

Tukesiluo could barely contain his fury: “My lord, are we just going to swallow this humiliation?”

Tukesiluo’s eyes were bloodshot, his body radiating hot-blooded intensity.

Years of pent-up rage threatened to explode; he longed to tear his enemy into pieces.

Murong Yunhai said nothing, but his brows were tightly knitted, his gaze fixed on Jiang Mingyu, waiting for his decision.

Jiang Mingyu sneered: “Even if we wanted to let it go, Huang Chaoran won’t agree.”

Jiang Mingyu gave a contemptuous smile, but he knew this revenge war was far from over—Huang Chaoran would return.

Murong Yunhai flicked another orchid finger: “Xingqiu brother means Huang Chaoran’s scheme will strike again?”

Murong Yunhai appeared composed, but internally he was already strategizing—he knew he must find a way to defuse this crisis before it struck.

Jiang Mingyu’s tone was calm and certain: “I didn’t just send Zhu Tianxiang to prison—I stripped him of his office. Even his father-in-law He Dachuan and brother-in-law He Muchen died by my hand. If you were him, would you let it go?”

As he spoke, Jiang Mingyu sighed; Huang Chaoran would retaliate in kind—this feud between sworn enemies was destined to never end.

Murong Yunhai stroked his chin, fingers brushing his beard, brows furrowed. After a long silence, he spoke: “The enemy is hidden, we are exposed—what can we do?” His voice carried helplessness and dread.

Tukesiluo growled: “Yes, we need a plan—if my lord is ambushed again, what happens to Shangmu?”

Tukesiluo’s thick eyebrows hung low, his face stubbled, eyes locked on Jiang Mingyu, radiating urgency and deference.

The three exchanged glances, each seeing the same weight and worry in the others’ eyes—their situation was dire; they must act swiftly, or face catastrophic consequences.

Jiang Mingyu frowned slightly, lost in thought. After a long while, he raised his head, a glint flashing in his eyes: “Our only option now is to strengthen the four gates of Shangmu and strictly inspect all who enter or leave.”

“Anyone acting suspiciously—arrest them immediately and lock them in the dungeon for interrogation.”

Jiang Mingyu’s voice was firm and stern, his expression grave; he understood he must prevent disaster before it struck, leaving no opening for Huang Chaoran.

“First, to stop Huang Chaoran from striking again; second, to prevent foreign spies from sneaking in to probe our military weaknesses.”

Jiang Mingyu paced with his hands behind his back, reminding them this move targeted not only Huang Chaoran but all potential threats.

“Once we catch Huang Chaoran’s tail, I’ll make him understand what regret truly means.”

Jiang Mingyu’s gaze turned icy, a hint of killing intent emerging—he swore to make Huang Chaoran pay a terrible price.

If he tolerated this, who would ever take his authority as Imperial Envoy seriously again?

Jiang Mingyu’s expression grew solemn as he weighed every possibility; he knew this matter was too vital to show weakness—any sign of frailty would destroy his reputation and authority.

Murong Yunhai and Tukesiluo exchanged a glance, fully understanding; they bowed to Jiang Mingyu and swiftly, in perfect unison, carried out the order to reinforce the defenses and ensure Shangmu’s safety.

As Jiang Mingyu chewed on a dry steamed bun, lost in thought, Liu Yifei appeared—after days of absence.

Liu Yifei still wore her red dress, the hem fluttering in the wind.

Her oval face had skin as smooth as jade, cheeks faintly flushed, brows slightly furrowed, a quiet worry etched on her delicate features; her eyes held anxiety and unease, her hands constantly clasping and unclasping, as if burdened by deep distress.

The sudden appearance of this graceful beauty made Jiang Mingyu quickly swallow his bun, then his handsome face lit up with a radiant smile.

He exclaimed in delight: “Miss Liu, what brings you here? Please, sit.” He immediately moved aside and gestured for her to take a seat.

Seeing Jiang Mingyu unharmed, Liu Yifei visibly relaxed, her brows smoothing, the tension vanishing, replaced by relief.

She gracefully bowed to Jiang Mingyu before speaking softly.

“I heard of your assassination attempt; my father was deeply concerned, but he was tied up with affairs, so he sent me to check on you.”

Liu Yifei’s voice was clear and melodious, yet her fingers kept twisting her sleeve, as if she had endured prolonged worry and anguish.

Jiang Mingyu’s arrests had already spread like wildfire through Shangmu.

This made Liu Yifei even more uneasy, until she could no longer bear it and came to see him in person.

Jiang Mingyu smiled gently: “Thank you, Master Liu and Miss Liu, for your concern. Look—I’m perfectly fine.”

He waved his sturdy arms, displaying his vigor and vitality.

But Liu Yifei sighed softly, her brows knitting again, tears glimmering in her eyes: “My lord carries great responsibility—please be cautious in all things.”

“The people of Shangmu still look to you to lead us against the foreign invaders, so we may stand tall again.”

Her gaze held worry and hope, her voice trembling as if deeply fearful for Jiang Mingyu’s safety.

Jiang Mingyu smiled warmly again, solemnly: “I’ve taken your words to heart, Miss Liu.”

“By the way, you’ve reminded me—you and your family must also be careful.”

Jiang Mingyu shifted tone, his thick brows knitting, his expression serious and grave.

He then explained in detail to Liu Yifei that the mastermind was Huang Chaoran: “Miss Liu, I must say something I shouldn’t.”

His tone was heavy, his gaze deep, the smile gone from his face.

“This whole affair began because Zhu Tianxiang harbored ill intentions toward you—and it was because you provided evidence that Huang Chaoran lost his office.”

Jiang Mingyu recounted every detail, each word sharp and clear, leaving Liu Yifei with full understanding of the chain of events.

“So Huang Chaoran, who tried to kill me, will never let you go unharmed—never be careless, or you’ll give the villain an opening.”

Liu Yifei’s flower-like face paled instantly, her beautiful eyes flickering with fear; her voice trembled, brows tightly knitted: “What should we do?” Her delicate hands clenched and unclenched, clearly terrified by Jiang Mingyu’s words.

Jiang Mingyu fell silent for a moment, then spoke firmly: “Don’t worry, Miss Liu—I’ll send men to guard the Liu residence day and night.”

“Rest assured—I’ll spare no effort to ensure not a hair on your head is harmed.”

Jiang Mingyu’s tone was resolute, filled with concern and a strong protective instinct toward Liu Yifei.

Liu Yifei blushed deeply, her lovely face turning crimson; she whispered: “To go to such lengths for a mere commoner like me, my lord—isn’t this inappropriate?” Her slender fingers twisted her skirt.

Jiang Mingyu firmly waved his hand: “What’s this? Master Liu has long cared for the people of Shangmu—it’s my duty.”

“Besides, Miss Liu is also my...”

Liu Yifei blinked her bright, watery eyes, shyly pressing: “My what?”

Jiang Mingyu quickly covered it: “Besides, you’re my friend—I can’t stand by and do nothing.”

Liu Yifei’s shyness deepened, her blush lingering; she forced a smile: “Then, thank you, my lord.”

One day later, the state capital.

Outside the window, snow drifted down in swirling flakes, dancing in the gloomy sky—but Huang Chaoran’s face was colder and darker than the winter storm.

His eyes were sunken, temples streaked with gray, his furrowed brow radiating furious rage; he stared fixedly at the assassin who had posed as Che Hongda in Shangmu, each word clipped: “You say what? You failed?”

Che Hongda shuddered, beads of sweat breaking on his forehead; he sighed in bitter regret, eyes darting, unable to meet Huang Chaoran’s gaze: “After poisoning the food, I hid and watched. I saw Jiang Mingyu about to eat it—yet, unexpectedly...”

Here his voice choked; he stammered out the story of the dead rat that had suddenly appeared and ruined the plot.

Huang Chaoran’s face darkened like storm clouds before lightning—any moment punishment might strike: “That damned bastard Jiang Mingyu really is lucky.”

“You useless fool—you escaped, but he’s now on guard. What do we do now?” Huang Chaoran’s brows were locked in a grim, unsolvable frown, killing intent thick in the air.

Che Hongda, instead of groaning, suddenly grinned coldly: “There is a way.”

“Though I failed to kill Jiang Mingyu, I discovered something—something that will end his life.”

“If we expose it, Jiang Mingyu won’t have eight heads enough for the court to chop off.”

Che Hongda’s cryptic, meaningful words ignited Huang Chaoran’s intense interest; he demanded urgently: “What is it? Tell me now!”