The assassin’s arms were bound and suspended from the beam. Blood had soaked through the fabric, and crimson droplets fell steadily. His jaw remained dislocated, not yet reset, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. Despite the pain, he couldn’t make a sound.

The blade of the dagger gradually became clean and gleaming. Rong Ting toyed with it a couple of times, the cold steel reflecting his beautiful yet ruthless eyes. He turned and looked at the assassin, saying, “I’ll ask you a few questions. If you’re willing to answer, nod. If not…”

He raised an eyebrow. “This morning, I dislocated your jaw. Just now, I severed the tendons in your hands. You can neither live nor die as you wish. If you refuse to answer, I have plenty of other methods to make you suffer.”

His face bore a faint smile, and his tone was menacing. Yet, with his striking features and clear eyes, he resembled a mischievous, wicked child—evil at heart but innocent in appearance.

“Will you answer?” Rong Ting posed the first question.

The assassin let out muffled groans.

All he wanted now was to die.

He wanted a quick death, free from further torment.

Seeing that the man didn’t nod but only continued to grunt incoherently, Rong Ting narrowed his eyes in displeasure. “You tried to take her life, so I will certainly take yours.”

“Wanting to die? There’s no rush.” He ran his thumb along the cold blade of the dagger, then brought it forward, pressing it against the assassin’s cheek and tapping lightly. “Once I’ve gotten the answers I want, I’ll personally send you on your way.”

Only by making his death excruciating could Rong Ting repay the debt of him injuring her with that hidden weapon.

…

Everyone has weaknesses, and everyone has moments of vulnerability.

Whether the truth could be extracted depended on who was more ruthless.

Four days later, early morning—

For the first time in four days, Rong Ting stepped out of his house.

He carried a faint scent of blood, and in his hand was a letter bearing the handprint of the now lifeless assassin.

He sent it to the post station, addressed to Jinling.

Since the Empress wanted to know who was helping him, he, the true recipient of this “favor,” would be the one to tell her.

…

Ji momo hurried into Jinxi Palace.

She had just learned a piece of news: Fourth Master Jiang of the Jiang family was currently in Ye City!

They had waited in the capital for days, but there had been no word from the assassins sent to Ye City. No one knew what had happened there. Seeing that Empress Jiahe was nearly driven mad with anxiety, Ji momo rushed back to deliver this news to Her Majesty.

Perhaps it was Fourth Master Jiang who had secretly been aiding the Ninth Prince, thwarting their plans.

Ji momo hurried into Jinxi Palace, only to find the Empress holding a letter, her expression as cold as still water.

Ji momo said, “Your Majesty!”

The call snapped the Empress out of her shock. She turned and saw Ji momo, but unlike usual, she didn’t hand the letter over without hesitation. Instead, she crumpled it up and quickly set it aside.

Her gaze toward Ji momo also carried a hint of suspicion that had never been there before.

Ji momo was the longest-serving servant by the Empress’s side and her most trusted confidante. But now, as the Empress thought about the contents of the letter, an unwarranted sense of caution crept into her eyes.

The letter claimed that the one secretly helping Rong Ting was none other than her most trusted Ji momo!

If it had been an ordinary letter, the Empress would never have believed it.

But at the end of the letter was the insignia of the Xu family’s assassins, along with a bloody handprint from the assassin she had sent out. Even the scar on the hand matched perfectly.

The letter explained that another heavy snow had fallen in Ye City, preventing the assassin from returning. He had sent the letter ahead to warn her to be wary of those around her.

The Empress couldn’t help but feel a growing distrust toward Ji momo. Her voice turned cold as she asked, “Why are you in such a hurry?”

Ji momo replied cheerfully, “This old servant has just learned something important.”

“Speak,” the Empress said curtly.

“Do you remember Fourth Master Jiang of the Ning’an Estate?”

Empress Jiahe frowned. “The one who’s always traveling and has never returned to the capital?”

“Exactly,” Ji momo whispered, leaning closer. “This old servant has learned that he is currently in Ye City.”

Empress Jiahe’s expression shifted slightly.

Ji momo smiled. “This old servant believes he is the one helping the Ninth Prince.”

For a moment, Empress Jiahe wasn’t sure whether to believe it.

If not for the letter she had just read, she would have accepted it without question.

But after reading that letter, she couldn’t help but overthink. Fourth Master Jiang of the Ning’an Estate was said to be a free spirit, completely disinterested in power. He preferred a peaceful life and avoided trouble, which was why he had left Jinling to wander, fearing the responsibilities of the Ning’an Estate would fall on him.

Such a temperament didn’t seem like the type to meddle in others’ affairs.

Seeing Empress Jiahe’s furrowed brow, Ji momo asked, “Is Your Majesty concerned that Fourth Master Jiang will be difficult to deal with?”

Deep wrinkles creased at the corners of her eyes as a ruthless glint gathered in her gaze. “There’s no need to worry about that. This Fourth Master Jiang may be wealthy beyond measure, but after being away from Jinling for so many years, he has neither connections nor power. If Your Majesty wishes for peace of mind, it would be better to kill the wrong man than to let the right one slip away.”

Hearing this, Empress Jiahe felt even more unsettled.

After reading the letter, she had listened to Ji momo’s words with a critical ear, and the more she heard, the more she found her conclusions reckless.

All they knew was that Fourth Master Jiang was in Ye City—how did that alone prove he was the one working against them?

If they were mistaken and moved against him without cause, they would risk offending the emperor himself—Emperor Zhaowu had always had a deep appreciation for Fourth Master Jiang’s calligraphy. To make an enemy of him was to make an enemy of the emperor.

For the first time, Empress Jiahe found herself believing what was written in that letter.

Ji momo might have already betrayed her.

She pressed her lips together, then curved them into a smile, carefully concealing her suspicions as she regarded Ji momo. Pretending to accept her words, she said warmly, “You’ve worked hard.”

Though she smiled, there was a glacial edge to her gaze as it swept over Ji momo. “You’ve been overseeing everything, big and small, these past days. It must be exhausting. Is there anything you desire, Ji momo?”

At these words, a flicker of delight crossed Ji momo’s face. “Your Majesty is too kind. In truth, my nephew is set to take the imperial examination in a few days, but the foolish boy lacks discipline and refuses to study properly. However, there is a boy in his class—a truly gifted scholar…”

At these words, Empress Jiahe understood the true meaning behind them, and the smile on her lips grew cold. “This year’s imperial examination is of great importance to His Majesty. Swapping the exam papers will not be so easy.”

A clear rejection.

Ji momo’s delighted expression froze.

She hurriedly pleaded, “This old servant asks for nothing grand—just for my grandson to at least pass the county-level exam and earn a scholar’s title.”

The empress shook her head lightly.

Now that suspicion had taken root, she had no intention of granting Ji momo any favor that would require her to take even the slightest risk.

In fact, she was already considering eliminating her.

But Ji momo had served her for too long. She knew too much, had handled too many affairs, and connected too many people on her behalf. Any rash action could unravel everything. Until she found a suitable replacement, she would have to proceed cautiously.

The empress said gently, “Ji momo, I know you understand my position. This is simply not something I can make happen. However, as a token of my appreciation, go to the steward later and collect a gold hairpin inlaid with jade and emeralds. Consider it a gift for your future granddaughter-in-law, a small gesture of my goodwill.”

Ji momo’s smile faltered, barely holding its shape.

She had clearly heard that during the last imperial examination, the Empress had secretly arranged for a paper swap to help the son of a high-ranking official. That good-for-nothing fool, who knew nothing of scholarship, had somehow placed among the top three candidates!

It was obvious—the Empress refused to help her simply because she was nothing more than a servant.

With just one letter, suspicion took root in the Empress’s heart, but resentment bloomed in Ji momo’s.

The bond between mistress and servant was now irreparably fractured.

Once Ji momo had left, the Empress immediately retrieved the letter from Ye City and began writing a response in haste.

This time, she did not entrust Ji momo with the task. Instead, she summoned a palace maid and instructed her to send the letter out.

…

Rong Ting read the reply, his lips curling into a faint smile.

The fish had taken the bait.

The Empress wanted her assassins to uncover which officials in Ye City, supposedly loyal to her, had secretly allied themselves with Ji momo.

He carefully stored the letter away, keeping it as evidence for a future confrontation. Then, on another sheet of paper—one already marked with the dead assassin’s bloody handprint—he penned his reply.

Once the letter was written, Rong Ting pushed open the door.

After two days of airing out the room, the scent of blood had faded, almost undetectable now.

He considered for a moment. Today, he could finally invite Jiang Rao over.

It had been days since he last saw her.

Just the thought of her brought a touch of warmth to his eyes—so subtle he himself failed to notice.

Outside, the Jiang family’s servants had already been dismissed, sent back on his orders.

As for the assassin’s cause of death, Rong Ting simply told Jiang Rao that he had been careless, allowing the man to seize an opportunity to take his own life.

Since assassins were expected to kill themselves if they failed their mission, Jiang Rao never questioned his words.

In fact, she even felt relieved.

=^_^=