Chapter 880: Sowing Discord

Pan Yun looked at one, then the other.

Excellent—the case discussion had successfully turned into a military strategy meeting.

The cause of the late emperor's death was once again set aside.

Of course, Cao Nai and Xue Xuan and other organizers had not set it aside; they never went to the battlefield and barely participated in military affairs, still focusing on this case.

As soon as he stepped out of the tent, Cao Nai hurried after Xue Xuan: "Lord Xue!"

Xue Xuan stopped and turned to look at him.

Cao Nai asked in a low voice: "Lord Xue, setting aside the evidence, do you truly believe this case was done by Aral Zhiyuan?"

Xue Xuan: "I never discuss a case without evidence."

"But the birdman has vanished completely—we don't know his origins, and even those we suspect, like Yexian and Aral Zhiyuan, are in the enemy camp, impossible to interrogate, and the evidence cannot be verified—how are we to investigate?" Cao Nai said in a low tone: "I know you have a gift for criminal cases—you must know something. Give me a straight answer: was this truly done by Aral Zhiyuan?"

Xue Xuan gave him no answer, simply walked away in silence.

Discussing a case without evidence violated his principles.

He knew this case would likely become an unsolved mystery, perhaps never answered even a hundred years from now.

Unless the birdman who killed the Emperor himself stepped forward to confess and produce relevant evidence.

Xue Xuan returned to his room, where the lamp was still lit—Xue Shao was inside, and the table and floor were piled high with scrolls of case records, all brought along from the Court of Judicial Review, the Ministry of Justice, the Ministry of War, and the Northern Garrison Command when he joined the army.

Among them, the Mingying Sect's intelligence report lay on the table, and Xue Shao was intently studying it.

Xue Xuan halted his steps.

Xue Shao came back to himself, put down the intelligence report, and looked up at him: "Ershu, has there been progress in the Emperor's murder case?"

Xue Xuan did not answer his question, but asked instead: "Where were you on the day of the incident?"

Xue Shao stood before the desk, his back to the oil lamp; the light fell on his back but did not reach his face, leaving his entire expression hidden in shadow—Xue Xuan could not see his expression.

His voice was steady, as usual: "In the guest quarters."

Xue Xuan: "With the army pressing in, you stayed in the city's guest quarters?"

Xue Shao: "My friend was severely wounded, in grave danger—I couldn't leave her side."

Xue Xuan fixed his gaze on him; though he knew Ershu could not see his expression, Xue Shao still dared not show any abnormality, quietly lowering his eyes to stare at his toes, avoiding his gaze.

Xue Xuan asked without expression: "Your friend is Pan Yun?"

"Yes, she went to rescue the Emperor the day before yesterday and returned severely wounded."

Xue Xuan had naturally confirmed this—Cao Nai, one of the lead investigators, had been present at the scene.

Pan Yun, around the hour of Hai on the fourteenth night of the ninth month of the Zhengtong tenth year, led five Embroidered Uniform Guard and five scouts into the enemy camp to rescue the Emperor.

According to the Embroidered Uniform Guard and scouts' reports, they encountered the Emperor and engaged in fierce combat within the main tent against Wala soldiers, the Wala state preceptor, and his eight lamas.

Many were suffering heavily, with Pan Yun the worst.

Because of their injuries, the Emperor believed they lacked sufficient strength to safely extract him, so he refused to escape with them.

They fought all night, returning to Huicheng at the second watch of the hour of Si on the fifteenth, and after a brief report, Pan Yun collapsed into unconsciousness, vomiting blood continuously, remaining comatose until the sixteenth, when the Emperor was taken to the outskirts of Fucheng and killed—Kuang Ye ordered them to forcibly break into Pan Yun's seclusion to retrieve the Emperor's body.

Everyone entering and leaving had witnesses.

But…

Xue Xuan stared intently at Xue Shao—Pan Yun was a cultivator; could a person capable of stealthily infiltrating the enemy camp with ten others not have found a way to slip past the guest quarters' guards?

Previously it was only suspicion; now, seeing his nephew's reaction, Xue Xuan was certain.

No one understands a son better than his father—and he understood Xue Shao better than any biological father could.

Xue Shao suddenly realized this too, regretting that he had come to help his uncle organize the case files.

He immediately moved to leave: "Ershu, it's late—I'll return to rest now…"

"You're incredibly bold!" Xue Xuan's voice was barely audible, yet in the silence, it clearly reached Xue Shao's ears.

Xue Shao froze, stopped, and remained silent, lips pressed tight.

Xue Xuan stepped around the scattered juan sect records, slowly walked to his nephew's side, stared at his lowered eyebrows for a long moment, then closed his eyes and wearily waved him off: "Go, rest."

Xue Shao stepped back, bowed deeply and respectfully to his uncle, then bowed low and left.

Xue Xuan's eyes gleamed brightly in the darkness; he stood in place for a long time, until the third watch drum sounded outside, then moved his stiff limbs and sat back down in his chair.

Correct—discussing a case without evidence violates the law; one must still find evidence, must still find evidence…

But Xue Xuan's heart still felt as if a stone pressed upon it, heavy and unbearable.

Xue Xuan had always known Xue Shao was even more unorthodox than he was.

But he never imagined he would be this bold.

If the Emperor died on the battlefield, or from Yexian's torture, or by his own hand, it would not be strange.

But to be shot dead on the battlefield, while held hostage and used to threaten Great Ming…

In that instant, Xue Xuan's mind flashed with only one thought: this act was likely carried out by officials stationed at the border.

But who would be so bold as to propose such a thing, daring to defy the world and carry it out? He had suspected Kuang Ye, doubted Cao Nai—but never imagined it was a few Daoist Priests and his own nephew who had done it.

They didn't even hold official posts.

Xue Xuan let out a bitter laugh.

Many others, like him, suspected border officials—the Empress Dowager shared this suspicion.

Had Yu Qian not secured the Empress Dowager's edict on the fifteenth to install Prince Cheng as Emperor, and had the Emperor not been killed on the sixteenth, the Empress Dowager and court might still have suspected Prince Cheng.

The Empress Dowager now believes in Prince Cheng, but she will not believe these border civil and military officials, especially those who accompanied the Emperor—if the true mastermind is not found, these men may be…

Where could evidence be found? Yu Qian made it simple—he sent Chen Huai out the next day to curse the enemy camp, demanding Yexian hand over Aral Zhiyuan, the killer of the Emperor.

Since Zhu Qiyu arrived with reinforcements, Yexian had lost more than he won; now he was already considering retreat. Upon hearing Chen Huai's curses, he began to suspect Aral Zhiyuan.

Aral Zhiyuan naturally cried foul, shouting loudly: "Great Master, they are sowing discord!"

Yexian smiled: "I know full well they are sowing discord—the Han are cunning; how could I believe them?"

Aral Zhiyuan let out a long breath, his expression immediately recovering, and he slapped his chest as he pledged: "My loyalty to the Grand Tutor is as plain as the sun and moon!"

Esen smiled and nodded in assent.

Once Aral Zhiyuan had gone out, the smile faded from Esen's face, and he asked his confidant: "Has Aral Zhiyuan been getting close to Toghtua Buka lately?"

"Yes. Even now Aral Zhiyuan still calls him Khan."

The Oirat Khan was called Toghtua Buka, but he was held in Esen the Grand Tutor's grasp like a rabbit.

Since Esen led his troops to unify the various Mongol tribes, his personal guards and confidants had privately taken to calling him the Great Khan, and did not recognize Toghtua Buka.

But Aral Zhiyuan had his own tribe; clearly, he had not fully accepted Esen.

Esen's expression grew grave, and no one knew what he was thinking.