Shen Wei sat inside the carriage his hands on his lap, but his mind was already working through the situation. How the hell had he been linked to this murder?

It made no sense. He had spent the entire day at his manor—Feng Jiu, Qin Yufei, and the servants could all attest to that. He had no time to go near the palace, let alone kill Qin Yuli.

Yet, the accusations had already spread.

And now, he was being taken alone, Feng Jiu forced to stay at the manor. As the carriage rocked along the stone path, Shen Wei's eyes narrowed. There was something wrong about this. Too wrong.

When he finally arrived at the palace gates, the atmosphere felt... off. Everything was empty. Not a single maid moved through the corridors, no eunuchs whispering amongst themselves, no imperial guards stationed at their usual posts.

Only the silence.

Shen Wei stepped out of the carriage, his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings as two guards flanked him on either side. They said nothing, only gestured for him to move forward. He followed them in silence, his boots echoing against the stone as they led him deeper into the palace. Instead of taking him toward the main hall or any official study, they veered off the main path, leading him toward a side pavilion.

Shen Wei frowned. This was not where interrogations were held.

The pavilion was small, tucked away from the grand palatial structures. The wood seemed slightly aged, the paint on the pillars fading, as if it had not been well-maintained. For a place within the imperial palace, it was unusually shabby.

And yet, this was where they had brought him. The moment he stepped inside, the guards pushing him in, the heavy doors slammed shut behind him with a loud bang.

The scent of blood was overwhelming. Shen Wei stepped forward, his boots barely making a sound against the floor as his gaze locked onto the lifeless figure before him.

Qin Yuli lay sprawled on the ground, half-draped over the edge of the low couch, her long silk robes drenched in deep red. The embroidery on her sleeves was barely visible beneath the blood, which had seeped into the fabric, darkening the delicate patterns. The pool beneath her had begun to dry at the edges, clotted and thick, but fresh streaks still glistened under the dim candlelight.

Her head had lolled to one side, her dark hair tangled and sticking to her cheek, which was smeared with dried crimson. Her throat bore a deep, violent slash, the wound jagged, as if the blade had hesitated or been forced through with struggle. The skin around it was raw, her collarbones exposed where her robes had fallen loose, revealing more streaks of blood across her chest.

And her eyes... They were still open.

Clouded, unfocused, but unmistakably filled with remnants of fear. As if she had not expected to die this way.

Shen Wei's gaze flickered down to her body, seeming intact. He barely had time to process the scene before the rustling behind him registered too late.

A brutal, crushing impact struck the back of his head. The ground rushed up to meet him. His body crumpled, but not before he caught one last glimpse of Qin Yuli's lifeless, unblinking eyes staring straight at him.

And then—darkness.

Darkness.

Shen Wei's head throbbed. A dull, pounding ache spread from the base of his skull, radiating down his spine. The world around him was distant, muffled—like he was submerged underwater. His body was heavy, but the sharp scent in the air forced him to stir.

For sure it was blood.

The scent was thick.

Then—a scream.

High-pitched, panicked, and unbearably close. Shen Wei's eyelids fluttered, his vision blurry as he forced himself to wake. His breath came slow at first, then sharp as his senses returned all at once.

His fingers twitched against the wooden floor. Wet. Sticky.

Something warm clung to his hands, soaked into the sleeves of his robes, smeared across his chest.

Blood.

His own?

No...

His vision cleared just enough for him to see the familiar red pooling around him—the same red that had surrounded Qin Yuli's body before he lost consciousness.

And now...

Now, it was on him.

His hands, his arms, his black robes, stained.

His heart pounded as he forced himself upright, muscles stiff and aching. The room was spinning, but he quickly registered the terrified figure standing at the door.

A young palace maid, her face pale with horror, staring at him.

Her trembling hands clutched her sleeves, her lips quivering before she let out another piercing scream.

"M-MURDER! MURDER! IMPERIAL PRECEPTOR SHEN KILLED THE ROYAL CONCUBINE!"

Shen Wei's gaze snapped again to Qin Yuli's body.

Unmoved. Lifeless. Exactly as it had been before.

But now, he was the one covered in her blood.

Footsteps thundered down the corridor, the sound of approaching guards. His mind raced. A trap. This was a trap. How was he so stupid to even get caught in all of this?

The sound of footsteps grew louder, the sharp clanking of armor echoing through the pavilion. Shen Wei barely had time to compose himself before the doors burst open, and several guards stormed inside, their weapons already drawn.

The palace maid who had discovered him stumbled back, her hands still trembling, her face frozen in fear.

"I-I saw him," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "He... he is covered in blood, and he had a dagger in his hand!"

Shen Wei remained still as the guards surrounded him. He could feel the thick, damp weight of blood clinging to his robes, the scent of iron overwhelming his senses. He was fully aware of how this looked. The weapon lay in the pool of blood, but even if there was no sign of struggle on his body, he was the only person in the room with a lifeless Qin Yuli and hands stained red. Of course it was him, right?

The leading guard, an older man with a hardened expression, stepped forward. Shen Wei did not argue. He did not resist. He already knew the truth would not matter at this moment. This had been orchestrated too well, the pieces falling perfectly into place.

Two guards seized his arms, pulling them roughly behind his back before starting to take him out. He barely registered the force, his mind already working through every possibility, every move he could make.

He was escorted through the palace, the silence around them unnerving. No spectators. No eunuchs or maids whispering behind their hands. Whoever had arranged this had made sure that this part of the palace was cleared out, that no one would question the circumstances of his arrest.

When they reached the underground prison, the air was damp and heavy with the stench of rusted iron and decay. The cell doors groaned as they were opened, and the guards wasted no time in forcing him inside. Cold metal chains clamped around his wrists, fastening him to the wall.

He let out a slow breath, keeping his expression impassive as he took in his surroundings. The walls were thick stone, the only source of light coming from a single lantern outside the cell. The silence here was different—thick, expectant. Even if he already had the chance to enter the prison before, it was a new experience as this time he was in it and not here to visit a criminal.

The guards did not speak. They simply stood outside, watching him with unreadable expressions.

The sound of footsteps soon echoed through the prison corridor. Shen Wei did not lift his head, but he had no doubt about who it was.

Hu Ming.

The chief magistrate of the imperial court, a man personally appointed by His Majesty to uphold the law. A man whose duty was to find the truth, to ensure that justice was carried out fairly...

But Shen Wei knew... Hu Ming had long been a fervent supporter of Bai Shengli.

The moment Shen Wei heard that Hu Ming had been assigned to this post, he knew there was little hope of fairness when dealing with the Crown Prince. If Bai Shengli had truly orchestrated this, then Hu Ming was the perfect man to deliver the final blow.

Outside the prison cell, the guards straightened as the magistrate entered. Dressed in the deep crimson robes of his office, Hu Ming carried himself confidence. He knew the outcome of his investigation.

He stopped just before the bars, looking at Shen Wei with a faint, unreadable smile.

"Imperial Preceptor Shen," he said, his voice smooth but distant, "it is a shame to see you in such a state."

Shen Wei finally lifted his gaze, his expression calm despite the weight of the chains binding him.

"Chief Magistrate Hu," he greeted in a low voice. "I assume you've come to ask your questions before writing my verdict."

Hu Ming chuckled, shaking his head.

"There is no need for cynicism, Imperial Preceptor Shen. The evidence speaks for itself, does it not?"

Shen Wei said nothing.

Hu Ming took a step closer, his hands folding behind his back.

"A servant caught you red-handed. Blood on your hands, no other person in sight, and the victim already dead before any other witness arrived. What is left for me to do?"

He smiled faintly, as if amused.

"It is as if this case was served to me on a golden plate."

Shen Wei exhaled slowly. Of course, it was.

They had crafted this moment perfectly. The palace was empty, the witnesses nonexistent, the crime scene arranged so that there was no doubt of his guilt. And now, Hu Ming only had to deliver the finishing blow. Still, Shen Wei remained composed.

"It seems I have no need to speak at all," he said flatly. "You already have your answer."

Hu Ming tilted his head.

"You wound me, Imperial Preceptor Shen. I am merely here to follow due process."

Shen Wei's fingers twitched against the chains. Due process? That was rich coming from a man who had long been a pawn of Bai Shengli's faction.

Hu Ming studied him for a moment before his voice dropped slightly.

"His Majesty expects my report soon. And the Crown Prince..." he trailed off, eyes glinting, "...is very eager to see justice served."

The message was clear. This was not about proving innocence. This was about delivering a guilty man.

Shen Wei tightened his jaw, but his face betrayed nothing. If they thought he would break this easily, they did not know him well enough.

Hu Ming took one last glance at him before turning to the guards.

"Let him sit."

Hu Ming was starting to loose his patience. His pleasant mask had cracked, and in its place was the cold, methodical look of a man who would not leave without the confession he was here for.

"You will speak," Hu Ming said, his voice low and firm. "Whether it takes hours or days, I do not care. But you will confess to the murder of the royal concubine."

Shen Wei met his gaze, his lips curling slightly.

"You already have your answer, Chief Magistrate. Why waste your time?"

Hu Ming narrowed his eyes.

"Because, Imperial Preceptor Shen, I would rather you admit your sins than have His Majesty question why I could not extract the truth from you."

He gestured to the guards, and without hesitation, they moved forward, unlocking the shackles from Shen Wei's wrists, only to pull him harshly onto the cold floor. They forced his hands against a wooden restraint, binding them above his head, leaving his back fully exposed.

Shen Wei again, did not resist.

Hu Ming stepped forward, taking his time as he lifted a wooden cane. But Shen Wei had been used to this long ago.

The first strike landed hard against his back. The crack of wood against flesh echoed through the chamber. The guards barely flinched, they had seen this method before.

But there was no scream, no flinch, no sign of weakness.

Hu Ming's eyes flickered with slight surprise, but he continued. Another strike. Then another. Still, nothing.

When he stepped closer, intending to inspect his work, his expression darkened.

Scars.

Faint but unmistakable, layer after layer of old, deep scars covered Shen Wei's back under his inner clothes. Some were thin and faded, others thicker, ridges of pain permanently etched into his skin. These were not the marks of a man who had only recently faced punishment. These were the marks of someone who had endured being beaten for years.

Hu Ming's grip on the cane faltered slightly. He had tortured men before, had seen many break under far less pain than this. But as he stared at Shen Wei's unmoving figure, he realized the truth—torture would be useless.

Hu Ming's brows furrowed as he stepped back.

"Is this why you do not speak? Are you so used to pain that you no longer feel it?"

Shen Wei chuckled, the sound low and dry.

"Are you just now realizing that?"

The words sent a flicker of irritation across Hu Ming's face.

"You truly take after your father. As mad as him." the magistrate muttered.

Shen Wei tilted his head slightly, his lips still curved in amusement.

"I fear that I do not like what you just compared me to."

Hu Ming's patience snapped.

"Stop this. Do you understand what is at stake? If you do not confess, His Majesty himself may have to get involved."

At that, Shen Wei laughed.

Not a soft chuckle, not a restrained smirk—a genuine, mocking laugh. The sound filled the prison chamber, echoing off the stone walls.

Hu Ming's expression twisted in anger.

"You think this is a joke?"

Shen Wei's laughter faded into a smirk as he looked at the magistrate. His dark eyes gleamed, sharp and unwavering.

"Go ahead. Let His Majesty come." He spoke each word with deliberate slowness. "But tell me, Chief Magistrate... when the Emperor asks you for proof, what will you say? Because the wound on my head is still fresh."

Hu Ming's jaw clenched. Because he had almost nothing on him.

The blood, the servant's testimony, the staged scene—they were all circumstantial. If the Emperor himself demanded solid evidence beyond the convenient setup, Hu Ming would have nothing to present. And he was right, they did not think about him being hurt when he was knocked out.

And that, more than Shen Wei's arrogance, was what infuriated him the most.

With a sharp exhale, Hu Ming threw the cane aside and signaled to the guards.

"Lock him back up. I will return later."

The guards unbound Shen Wei and pushed him back against the cold wall, locking his wrists in chains once more.

Hu Ming lingered for a moment longer, his fists clenched at his sides before he turned and stormed out of the prison.

As soon as he left, Shen Wei exhaled slowly, the ghost of a smirk still lingering on his lips.

✤

Under the dim glow of the lanterns of the Shen Manor, Qin Yufei paced restlessly inside her chambers. For days, she had been unable to sleep, unable to eat, her mind consumed by thoughts of Shen Wei. No one had come with news of his state, and the longer she waited, the more unbearable the silence became. She knew Shen Wei was too intelligent to fall into a simple trap, but this was different. It looked too strange. The imperial court clearly wanted him gone.

She could not sit by any longer.

Throwing a cloak over her shoulders, she rushed toward the entrance of the manor, fully prepared to leave for the palace and try to plead on his behalf. But just as she reached the gates, Feng Jiu stepped in front of her, his stance firm, his expression unreadable.

"Where do you think you are going, Lady Qin?"

She met his gaze without hesitation.

"To the palace."

Feng Jiu let out a slow breath as if he had already anticipated this.

"My Lord was clear, he does not want you involved."

Her jaw tightened slightly.

"And if I do nothing? What happens then? Will they execute him? Is that what he wants?"

Her voice trembled slightly, but she held her ground. Feng Jiu did not move.

"This is not a battle you should fight."

Qin Yufei clenched her fists.

"I was with him all day. I am his alibi. If I tell the magistrate, they cannot accuse him."

Feng Jiu shook his head.

"Forgive me for this, but do you think they care about alibis? This is not a simple case, Lady Qin. Someone wants him dead, and if you go to the palace, you will only be caught in their trap as well."

Qin Yufei felt a sharp pang in her chest. She knew he was right. This was beyond mere accusations. This was a carefully crafted thing, and Shen Wei had for sure been made the perfect scapegoat. But did that mean she should sit here, waiting for them to kill him? Shen Wei had taken her away from her family, freed her from a life of being nothing more than a discarded piece of clothing. He had given her the strength to stand on her own, yet now, when he needed help the most, she was expected to do nothing?

Her breath grew unsteady.

"Then what do you expect me to do? Wait here while they take his life?"

Feng Jiu remained silent, and that silence only fueled her desperation.

With trembling fingers, she reached into her hair, pulling out a hairpin—Shen Wei's gift to her. It had been something she had treasured more than she ever admitted. Now, she lifted it to her throat, pressing the cold metal against her skin.

"If you will not let me go," she whispered, "then I have no reason to stay."

Feng Jiu's eyes widened slightly.

"Lady Qin—""I will die before I abandon my Shifu," she interrupted, tightening her grip on the hairpin. "If you don't take me to the palace, I will end it here."

A heavy silence fell between them. Feng Jiu was not a man easily swayed by emotions, but this time, his patience had reached its limit. His fingers curled into fists, his jaw tightening as he exhaled sharply. Finally, he muttered under his breath before stepping aside.

"Fine. I could never bring myself to tell my Lord that you died because of me."

Qin Yufei let out a shaky breath as she lowered the hairpin.

"I will take you there," Feng Jiu said, his voice edged with frustration. "But if anything happens, do not expect the Lord to forgive either of us."

Qin Yufei nodded, her resolve unshaken. Shen Wei had once chosen to save her. Now, it was her turn.

The palace loomed before her, its green rooftops gleaming under the setting sun. Qin Yufei soon stood at the massive entrance gates, her heart pounding against her chest. She inhaled sharply before lowering herself onto her knees.

"I request an audience with His Highness the Crown Prince regarding the murder case of the royal concubine, Qin Yuli!"

Her voice rang out clearly, unwavering despite the fear curling in her stomach. The palace guards stationed at the gates exchanged uncertain glances. A noblewoman, especially one from the Qin family, kneeling at the palace gates and demanding an audience was no small matter. If ignored, this scene would attract unwanted attention.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, one of the guards disappeared behind the gates, and she could only wait, her hands tightening around the fabric of her cloak's sleeve. The cold stone beneath her knees did not bother her. Only the thought of Shen Wei accused of a crime he did not commit, filled her mind. She did not even care for her sister. Was she really dead? She strangely did not care at all.

Minutes passed before the creaking of the palace gates broke the silence. From within, a tall figure emerged, dressed in deep brown robes embroidered with silver thread.

Meng Yu.

His gaze swept over her before he let out a sigh, as if he had expected her to do something reckless.

"Second Lady Qin," he said, his voice even. "My Master was waiting for you."

Qin Yufei met his eyes with determination.

"Take me to see the crown prince."

Meng Yu nodding slightly.

"Please follow me."

Without another word, he turned, leading her through the grand palace doors. As Qin Yufei stood and stepped forward, her heart pounded, but she clenched her fists to steady herself.

She would help Shen Wei get out of this. After all, she knew it would for sure be because of her that her Shifu was accused of such a thing.