Chapter 95

When night fell, under the cover of darkness, Xie Sui’an brought Xu Zhou back to Wangxue Wu.

She had been worrying about how to get Xu Zhou back to the temple, only to discover that the guards outside had silently withdrawn. It was said they had done so on the family patriarch’s orders, leaving the temple open for one day to allow the household to honor the departed.

Xie Sui’an didn’t overthink why Xie Queshan had chosen today to withdraw the guards, chalking it up to the special occasion. She breathed a sigh of relief; overall, the situation had been risky but ended without incident.

At the same time, a soldier was leading Xie Queshan through a dim prison.

The Black Crow Hall had recently apprehended many people. Every cell was full, and the air was filled with unending wails and groans. Buckets of cold water had been used to wash away the blood on the floor, but the ground remained damp and sticky. The thick stench of blood hung in the air, chilling to the bone.

“Master Que Shan, the death of that young soldier today was suspicious. He had previously reported seeing people suspected to be related to Prince Ling’an, but not long after, he died. General Hu Sha suspects there’s a traitor among us. So today, everyone present will be interrogated. Please consider this as a mere formality. Apologies for the inconvenience.”

The soldier led Xie Queshan into an interrogation room, but Hu Sha did not appear even after a long time.

The room, completely sealed from light, blurred the concept of day and night, leaving one drowsy yet perpetually on edge.

On the surface, Xie Queshan and Hu Sha were still colleagues, and Hu Sha had invited him under the guise of official business, treating him courteously. However, stepping into the prison made it clear that this was an outright display of dominance, fully revealing Hu Sha’s current arrogance. Since Wan Yan Jun’s fall, Hu Sha had become the de facto ruler of Lidu Prefecture, wielding immense power and acting with impunity.

Xie Queshan had never gained his trust, and his current situation was precarious. If Hu Sha were to seize any leverage over him, it would be nearly impossible for Xie Queshan to protect himself.

Deep down, Xie Queshan felt uneasy. The matter of Prince Ling’an had arisen unexpectedly. He had been lucky to cover it up hastily and hadn’t had time to withdraw from the scene afterward. Although the traces should have been handled, there was still a risk of oversight.

As he pondered how to craft a flawless alibi, a chilling realization struck him.

Narrowing his eyes, he suddenly stood up and kicked the table in front of him, shouting in anger, “When the hell is Hu Sha coming?! Is he playing games with me?”

With that, he strode toward the door.

The soldiers guarding the room hesitated to stop him, standing in his path with their hands clasped in respect. “Sir, General Hu Sha is still interrogating others and truly cannot step away at the moment. Please wait a little longer.”

“What a waste of time—” Xie Queshan growled impatiently as he continued walking. “When he’s done, tell him to come find me himself.”

This was, in essence, a psychological battle. Hu Sha didn’t have evidence, which was why he had kept him waiting so long. If Xie Queshan sat still and waited patiently, tolerating the humiliation, it would only confirm his guilt.

He couldn’t let Hu Sha control the game.

The soldiers dared not let him leave but could only block his way nervously.

“Step aside!” Xie Queshan’s gaze was sharp and menacing, and it looked as though he might resort to violence.

At that moment, Hu Sha finally arrived, leisurely late.

“All of you, back off. Do you have the guts to block Master Que Shan?”

His tone was dripping with mockery, his expression a fake, insincere smile.

Hu Sha still had fresh bloodstains on his face, which he nonchalantly wiped off with his hand. Speaking in a familiar tone, he began to exchange pleasantries with Xie Queshan. “Ah, couldn’t be helped. Those scoundrels had such tight mouths—it took some time. Sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Xie Queshan crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, watching Hu Sha put on his act.

“You kept me waiting this long. What do you want to interrogate me about?”

“It’s just a formality. What could I possibly want to ask?—Did you kill that soldier who died today?”

The atmosphere froze for a moment before Hu Sha laughed first. “Of course not.”

Even someone as adept at manipulating people as Xie Queshan felt his nerves fraying under Hu Sha’s unpredictable behavior. Though seemingly casual, Hu Sha’s words concealed a sharp edge as he scrutinized every reaction on Xie Queshan’s face.

All this time, he hadn’t been able to find definitive evidence proving Xie Queshan was a traitor. But his instincts told him that this incident might be the breakthrough.

It was too much of a coincidence. A soldier linked to Prince Ling’an’s whereabouts had died, and Xie Queshan, who hadn’t stepped outside for days, just happened to be at the scene.

If you want to catch an eel, you need to make it feel the pressure. Let it know you’re about to act but keep it guessing when you’ll strike.

Xie Queshan remained calm. He had to handle this carefully—one word too many would arouse suspicion.

Feigning annoyance, he responded, “If there’s nothing, I’ll take my leave.”

Hu Sha had no intention of letting him go. “Why the rush? Why don’t you join me in interrogating those rebels from the Bingzhu Division?”

Xie Queshan sneered. “I wouldn’t dare steal your glory.”

“What glory is mine or yours? We’re both working for the Great Qi. If we do a good job, it’s the royal court’s honor. Speaking of which, I don’t really understand you Han people. Today’s supposed to be some ‘Cold Food Festival,’ right? There are prisoners refusing to eat hot food, saying they’re honoring their dead comrades. Isn’t that ridiculous?” Hu Sha rambled on, acting as though he and Xie Queshan were old friends. “You Han people love your festivals. So many of them year-round—it’s quite something. Say, Master Que Shan, you’re in such a hurry today. Did I delay you from celebrating?”

Hu Sha’s words tested the limits of Xie Queshan’s patience. His jaw tightened, and the muscles on his face twitched faintly.

“I have no one to honor. As long as ghosts and spirits don’t come seeking revenge, I’d count myself lucky.”

“You know, there’s one thing I really admire about you. Want to guess what it is?”

Xie Queshan didn’t respond. Though his body remained in the room, his spirit had already fled, eager to escape this conversation.

“Of course, it’s how you handled Marshal Pang’s death. I thought you’d at least show some sentiment, and I even told my men not to act rashly. But for the sake of the royal court’s interests, you remained impartial. Truly admirable, truly.”

The mention of Pang Yu’s death stabbed at Xie Queshan’s deepest wound. Hu Sha twisted the knife mercilessly, determined to hit his mark.

Xie Queshan closed his eyes, grinding his molars so tightly his jawline grew sharper.

When he opened them again, all traces of levity were gone.

“I’m a Han serving the royal court. It’s harder for me than anyone else. All this effort is just for fame and fortune. General Hu Sha, you of all people should understand the pursuit of power. At this point, anyone in my way will be killed.”

He pushed past Hu Sha with force, brushing his hand aside as he strode out.

Hu Sha chuckled behind him. “Lidu Prefecture is full of your friends and family. If you’re going to kill your way through them all, well… you’re bound for the eighteenth level of hell.”

Xie Que Shan did not respond and strode out.

On the way back to Wangxuewu Courtyard, he barely contained his emotions. Once the door was closed, he could no longer hold it in. He grabbed the cup on the table and hurled it against the wall in fury, the shattering sound venting his anger.

Suddenly, he heard a faint noise by the window. Following the sound, he saw Nan Yi, who had been there for some time, now staring at him in shock.

She had been waiting there for a long while. Never one to stay still, she had climbed onto the windowsill, where she sat idly swinging her legs and fiddling with a flower branch from a nearby vase. His sudden return left her no time to announce her presence before she witnessed his fit of anger and the flying cup.

The two stared at each other in silence.

Awkwardly, Que Shan suppressed his rage, realizing how intimidating he must have appeared. He adjusted his attire and softened his expression before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Those two simple words seemed to have a magical power, effortlessly smoothing his turbulent emotions.

Nan Yi was just about to hop down, but Que Shan stepped closer and stopped her. Bracing one hand on the windowsill, he boxed her in, creating a confined space. His tall frame loomed over her, exuding a faint sense of ambiguity.

He quietly looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

By now, Nan Yi had grown somewhat accustomed to this close proximity. She hid her questions in her heart, this distance making it easy to catch the slightest change in his expression.

She asked, “Why did you kill that soldier?”

“What soldier?”

“The one who died on the street.”

“The killer hasn’t been caught yet.”

Every word avoided her question—neither a lie nor the truth.

Nan Yi raised her clenched fist and said with a sly smile, “Stop denying it! You clearly killed him. I even found your belongings at the scene—”

She lowered her voice and whispered mysteriously by his ear, “Good thing I picked it up. If the Qi people found it, you’d be doomed.”

Que Shan froze, blurting out, “What did you find?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Que Shan realized something was off… A seasoned hunter knows all too well the feeling of a trap.

After a brief pause, Nan Yi narrowed her eyes slyly. “So you admit it!”

If Que Shan hadn’t killed the soldier, he wouldn’t have instinctively asked what she found. It was his guilty conscience that allowed her to trick him.

He had just endured an exhausting mental battle with Gu Sha, his nerves finally relaxing upon returning home. He had completely let his guard down around Nan Yi.

Caught off guard, Que Shan was both surprised and annoyed.

The armor he had hastily donned was peeled off by her once again.

His expression darkened, and his face turned cold. He stared at Nan Yi, his eyes pitch black.

Nan Yi, who had been smug and smiling a moment ago, suddenly felt a chill down her spine. A foreboding sense of dread washed over her… Why did it feel like a tiger was about to pounce?

“You’re lying,” Que Shan said.

Nan Yi was stunned—what lie?

Que Shan grabbed her hand and forcibly pried her fingers apart, revealing an empty palm to prove that she was bluffing.

She had nothing in her hand but claimed otherwise.

Nan Yi wanted to argue but found herself at a loss. She had only intended to trick him a little—was he really this hard to deceive? She felt utterly defeated.

—Wait, wasn’t she the one interrogating him about today’s events? She suspected Que Shan of protecting the Ling’an King and believed that his sudden visit to the Buddhist hall was evidence of the king hiding there.

His position couldn’t be that simple.

She had already extracted key information from Que Shan’s slip of the tongue. She should have the upper hand—how did the situation flip so quickly?

Yes, she lied, but was he playing by the rules? Every question she asked was met with evasion, making it impossible to pin him down.

Nan Yi quickly adapted, withdrawing her hand and hiding her clenched fist behind her back to prevent him from prying her fingers open again. As long as she didn’t reveal her palm, he couldn’t prove she was lying.

Clinging to this slight advantage, she pressed on, determined to make him confess.

“Why did you kill that soldier? Was it because he saw something?” she asked again.

Que Shan ignored her, focusing instead on grabbing her hand.

“You didn’t betray the country. You’re with the Bingzhu Division, aren’t you?” she continued.

“What’s your codename?”

Her words hit him like stones, stirring up a storm in his mind.

He couldn’t answer—he didn’t dare answer.

—He couldn’t let her keep asking questions.

That was the only thought in Que Shan’s mind.

Leaning forward, he silenced her with a kiss.