Chapter 19

“Zhou Zheng is my bodyguard, not your personal Q&A guide,” Li Jin said, arms crossed as he stepped forward. “Strange, isn’t it? Why do you always seem to have questions for him?”

Jin Shu was caught off guard. Mouth half open, she asked in confusion, “Then… then who should I ask?”

Li Jin’s eye twitched. Catching Zhou Zheng stifling a laugh behind Jin Shu, he snapped, “Do you not see me standing here?”

With that, he flicked open his fan. “If you’ve got questions—ask!”

The usually leisurely Li Jin was now fanning rapidly, clearly irritated, his gaze full of disdain. It was as if the word “fool” had been stamped across Jin Shu’s forehead.

Still unsure what she’d done wrong, Jin Shu pointed innocently at the roof.
“I just wanted to ask… where did that thick stack of evidence come from?”

Li Jin’s fan paused mid-air. He raised a brow, incredulous. “You didn’t actually think I’ve been wandering all over Great Wei with just one bodyguard, did you?”

Then he realized—she really did think that.

Amused by her naïve expression, Li Jin closed his fan and gestured around. “Come out.”

From the eaves, the corners of the courtyard, and even the distant underbrush, several masked figures emerged.

Bathed in the golden light of sunset, Jin Shu looked around, mouth agape.

“There are others secretly protecting your brother,” Li Jin said, smiling more deeply. “But today, you’ve annoyed me. I’ll point it out—don’t do it again.”

As she turned to look, the masked guards vanished in unison, as if they’d never existed.

Seeing Li Jin so serious, Jin Shu bowed. “I admit my mistake.”

“…I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“You once said, as long as it’s about solving cases, I should investigate freely and you’d back me up,” she said, eyes lowered. “But today, when Yang An scolded me, I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I should admit fault.”

Li Jin’s eyes narrowed, filled with approval. No wonder she was known in the capital as the Corpse Whisperer. Her professionalism, focus, and mental agility—not to mention their growing synergy—left him thoroughly impressed. Her presence felt like a gift from fate, a chance to finally resolve the infamous wrongful case that had rocked the capital six years ago.

After a long pause, Li Jin chuckled softly and helped her to her feet. “Don’t take Yang An’s words to heart.”

He turned and strolled toward the courtyard gate. “To me, Yang An is filth—less clean than the rope and pants in my hand.”

Relieved that he wasn’t angry, Jin Shu smiled and stepped closer. “Your Highness, about Yang An’s daughter last night…”

Li Jin froze.

Before she could finish, Zhou Zheng coughed twice behind them—too late. Li Jin turned, face dark, staring at her smug expression.

“…I didn’t scold you, and now you’re getting cheeky?” he said.

Zhou Zheng knew Jin Shu had just stepped on a landmine. She was definitely in for a lecture.

Sure enough, Li Jin snorted. “Didn’t expect Master Jin to be so nosy.”

Even Jin Shu realized she’d pushed too far and was scrambling for a way out—until Li Jin’s tone suddenly softened.

“She caused a whole mess! That pampered young lady—where would she get the strength to rappel down on silk? She fell straight onto the bed and broke her back.”

Seeing he wasn’t angry, Jin Shu perked up. “And then?”

“Then? Then Zhou Zheng and I nearly mistook her for an assassin and almost cut her down.”

“And after that?”

“…There’s no ‘after that.’ We had the guards carry her to the clinic.”

Watching Li Jin and Jin Shu walk side by side, Zhou Zheng was stunned.

No wonder she was called the Corpse Whisperer—she could ask about matters that were usually off-limits and still get answers. Normally, any mention of romantic entanglements would earn a scolding or a pay cut. But this brilliant, capable Master Jin was clearly favored—Li Jin even indulged her curiosity.

The more Zhou Zheng thought about it, the more admiration he felt, watching Jin Shu’s retreating figure.

After fifteen years at Prince Jing’s side, by the end of March in the year 210 of Great Wei, Li Jin—who had overseen the Six Gates for nearly six years—finally obtained the missing piece he’d long sought.

The eight elite members of the Six Gates’ “Shadow Division” were now assembled. With that, the turbulent capital was bound for a stormy reckoning.

The truths and conspiracies buried beneath frost and time were about to be unearthed—by Li Jin himself, who would crack the ice and dig deep enough to shake the heavens.

The carriage rolled steadily forward. Jin Shu and Zhou Zheng sat up front, while Li Jin’s voice drifted from the cabin behind, telling stories.

They traveled north along the official road. Within two days, they left Yangzhou’s borders. Ten days later, the capital was just a few days away.

On this journey, Li Jin finally resembled the idle prince he was rumored to be—taking Jin Rong sightseeing, strolling through markets, enjoying lantern festivals. If only he didn’t keep handing Jin Shu all the letters complaining about Liu Cheng’an’s refusal to lend personnel.

“Lord Zhou, I have a question,” Jin Shu said, frowning as she watched Li Jin holding Jin Rong’s hand, waiting to buy him a sugar figurine. “Does His Highness always like children this much?”

Behind her, a crescent moon hung in the deep blue sky, clouds scattered like ink wash.

Zhou Zheng’s hand rested on his sword hilt. He looked at Li Jin’s smiling profile and, after a long silence, shook his head. “His Highness only likes Young Master Jin Rong.”

Seeing her confusion, he added, “If the late Crown Prince were still alive, His Highness’s niece and nephew would be about this age.”

Even Jin Shu, far away in Dingzhou, knew about the upheaval six years ago. She pressed her lips together and nodded, saying no more.

That night, Jin Shu had already gone to bed when Li Jin woke her up. She looked up in surprise from the long couch. He gestured for silence and pointed to Jin Rong, fast asleep on the bed.

“There’s been an incident,” he said. “Get up.”

Moonlight filtered through the carved window lattice, casting fragmented shadows across Jin Shu’s sleepy face. Li Jin frowned and stepped outside, taking a deep breath. A woman with no sense of danger—how could she sleep so soundly?

He glanced at Zhou Zheng. “Send word: from now on, no one enters Master Jin’s room without my express command.”

Then he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing it slowly. “Tell me—what did Yun Fei say?”

Zhou Zheng nodded, his tone serious. “There’s too much blood at the scene. The traces are everywhere. He couldn’t determine the nature of the case.”

“Who’s the victim?”

“A widow.”