Chapter 18

Li Jin cast a glance at the blind man kneeling on the ground and waved his hand. “Take him into custody and await trial.”

The constables responded and escorted the blind man out along the edge of the courtyard.

Yang An, seeing the unfamiliar faces and the constables’ uniforms, raised his hand to call out—but froze under Li Jin’s piercing gaze. That look was brimming with murderous intent.

“Yang An, you really outdid yourself,” Li Jin said, stepping forward to shield Jin Shu behind him. “You might as well have brought the ‘Justice Hangs High’ plaque with you.”

“No evidence, yet you’re quick to use torture. Your autopsy report was full of nonsense, and I’ve yet to see you properly investigate—no scene inspection, no source tracing, no presence at all.”

Li Jin raised his fan and pointed it at Yang An’s forehead. “Hah! You can’t even close a case properly. You’re the textbook example of a useless official.”

Yang An was stunned. His previously furious face, which had just been berating Jin Shu, turned pale. He dropped to his knees. “Your Highness is absolutely right! I’ve realized my mistakes. I’ve already dealt with that incompetent coroner. Next, I’ll initiate a thorough internal review at the Linyang County Office—self-examination, deep analysis of our shortcomings, and targeted solutions. I vow to fulfill the imperial trust and serve the people of Linyang with all my might!”

The official jargon poured out effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to think at all.

Li Jin looked at his slick performance, his anger barely contained.

“All your might?” Li Jin snorted. “That trick doesn’t work on me, Lord Yang.”

Standing under the eaves, he raised his left hand. With a loud thud, a thick stack of documents dropped from above.

The suddenness startled Jin Shu, who stepped back slightly. Li Jin glanced at her surprised expression, then turned back to Yang An.
“If not for these records of bribery and corruption, I might’ve actually believed you.”

He tossed the documents at Yang An’s feet. They landed with a heavy thump.

“Busy man, aren’t you, Lord Yang? Busy making connections, courting the powerful. Busy collecting treasures and beauties to send upward. Busy covering up your appalling incompetence in solving cases.”

Li Jin’s eyes burned with fury. “Even today, you were busy running around—trying to retrieve the daughter you sent to my bed last night.”

Yang An, who had just been eloquently admitting fault, turned to stone at the mention of his daughter.

Li Jin, now seething, turned away, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples. After a breath, he opened them again, his voice cold and full of disgust. “You’ve got some nerve.”

The most surprised person was actually Jin Shu, standing behind him. So that’s why Li Jin had ended up sleeping in the rundown servant’s quarters with Jin Rong—because last night had been a full-blown political farce.

Thinking back, his dark circles and fiery morning mood made perfect sense. She looked at his back with a trace of sympathy. Turns out being a carefree prince in Great Wei wasn’t easy. Even sleep came at a cost. Truly tragic.

Li Jin pointed at the stack of documents. “Seen enough? Anything else to say?”

Only now did Yang An realize—Prince Jing hadn’t come to deliver Master Jin from Dingzhou. He’d come to investigate him.

On yellowed paper, in black and white, every transaction since Yang An’s appointment was laid out in detail. He’d thought himself a seasoned official, well-connected, with a smooth path ahead. But today, he’d fallen into Prince Jing’s trap. Seeing his years of scheming about to collapse, he clenched his teeth and made a desperate gamble.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!” Yang An crawled forward on his knees.
“My daughter is engaged to the young master of the Su family, the Grand Tutor’s household in the capital. Please, for the Grand Tutor’s sake, spare me this once!” He bowed deeply, forehead hitting the ground.

Li Jin had been waiting for this moment of desperation. Men like Yang An would never let go of a lifeline—even if it meant dragging others down.

The destination of the bribe money had always been a mystery. Now, Yang An had handed over a clue.

“Yang An, I’m truly impressed. What, is the Grand Tutor’s son’s bed too small for your daughter?”

“No, no! I meant no such thing! My daughter insisted—I couldn’t stop her. I’m just a loving father!”

“A loving father who can’t stop his daughter? I’ve had enough of your hypocrisy.” Li Jin sneered. “Save those lines for the Censorate’s courtroom.”

Yang An froze, panic rising. “Your Highness, you can’t arrest me! I was appointed by imperial decree. You need the Emperor’s—”

Before he could finish, Li Jin raised a golden token—engraved with a dragon, its eyes inlaid with jade, tassels of gold hanging below. The words “Imperial Presence” gleamed on its surface.

Yang An’s last hope was crushed. Across the vast lands of Great Wei, among thousands of officials, there was only one such token.

Emperor Li Yi had given it to Li Jin to counterbalance the Crown Prince’s power. With it, Li Jin could act as if the Emperor himself were present—he could even execute someone on the spot.

Staring at the now broken Yang An, collapsed on the ground, Li Jin asked coldly: “Shall my secret guards escort you, or will you walk yourself to prison?”

The man opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Afterward, the court officers spent half an hour dismantling the setup—everything that had been hauled in was hauled back out. By dusk, the courtyard returned to its original desolate state.

Li Jin stood in the center, gazing at the burial pit, lost in thought.

Jin Shu, meanwhile, kept looking up at the roof. She was curious—who had delivered that stack of evidence from above? But seeing Li Jin so focused, she didn’t dare interrupt. Instead, she walked toward Zhou Zheng. Just as she was about to speak, a slightly annoyed voice came from behind: “Why not ask me directly? Must you ask Zhou Zheng?”

Startled, Jin Shu turned and met Li Jin’s gaze.