In the An family’s mansion, Hou Qianxing was feeling overwhelmed.
“My lord, there are thirteen corpses in total, and seven suspects have escaped.”
Hou Qianxing frowned as he observed the disordered bodies strewn across the ground. “Any findings?” he asked.
“My lord, six of the thirteen died by biting poison capsules. They appear to be trained death warriors, as none of them carried any form of identification. However… they all had the same tattoo.” The officer hesitated as he spoke.
“A tattoo? What kind of tattoo?” Hou Qianxing walked over, crouching beside one of the corpses. On the arm, he saw a claw-shaped tattoo. The design seemed familiar, though he couldn’t immediately recall where he’d seen it before.
“Is there something unusual about this tattoo?” he pressed, noting the officer’s hesitation. The officer shifted uncomfortably.
“My lord, it’s a family crest,” the officer said, after some hesitation.
“A family crest?” Hou Qianxing’s eyes narrowed as he studied the design again. The more he looked, the more familiar it became. “Do you know which family it belongs to?” Large families often had distinctive crests, though in Yan, floral motifs like plum blossoms were more common than predatory symbols, which were more prevalent in Lu, where the tiger deity was revered.
“Yes, my lord… it belongs to the Du Gu family. You might recall mentioning when you reviewed the records that this ferocious wolf design was very much in line with General Du Gu’s style.”
Hou Qianxing’s expression darkened as he suddenly remembered. He stood abruptly.
“My lord!” A guard hurried into the courtyard.
Hou Qianxing quickly composed himself. “What is it?”
“Sir, the An family’s fourth young master and seventh young miss are missing.”
“What?” Hou Qianxing’s expression shifted dramatically.
“Also, someone appears to have searched through the former residence of Consort An.”
“Searched? Double the guards around that residence and gather everyone from the An family for questioning. Have the men search for traces of the missing siblings.”
“Understood.”
“And these bodies…” The officer glanced uncertainly at the corpses.
“Keep it quiet for now,” Hou Qianxing ordered grimly. “Send word to Prince Ye. If he knew something was going to happen here, he must know more than he’s revealed.”
“Yes, my lord.” The officer bowed and left hurriedly, clearly anxious about the implications of the discovery.
Alone in the courtyard, Hou Qianxing sighed, his gaze lingering on the tattoo. His brow furrowed with worry.
Suddenly, he heard a faint noise. “Who’s there?” he barked.
A shadow moved swiftly through the night and landed near the corpses. The figure, standing among the dead, extended a token.
Hou Qianxing was surprised to see a young woman of about seventeen or eighteen in a crimson-purple dress. Petite and delicate in appearance, she exuded a chilling, deathly aura. More surprising was the token she held: it marked her as one of Prince Ye’s people.
The young woman, Youxiang, spoke in a cold, emotionless tone. “By order of the prince, I am here to collect evidence.”
Without waiting for a response, she drew a soft sword that gleamed like a serpent’s tongue. In a blur of motion, she sliced off the tattooed skin from the corpses’ arms. The bloody strips were neatly stacked in her hand.
Hou Qianxing stared, shocked by both her skill and her utter lack of hesitation.
Youxiang produced a small box, placed the skin inside, and sprinkled in some powder. Smoke rose from the box, and she watched the reaction with a faint, sardonic smile before closing the lid.
“Wait! May I ask what that’s for?” Hou Qianxing called out as she turned to leave.
“No comment,” she answered coldly, then vanished into the night.
Prince Ye’s subordinates were certainly an unusual group. They seemed carefree among themselves, but they treated outsiders with icy detachment. Having followed Prince Ye through countless hardships, life-and-death situations, and the fickle currents of human nature, they had learned to be wary.
Youxiang returned to the palace, heading straight to Zhaohua Hall, still worried about Murong Qiufeng. Though skilled in martial arts and protected by Prince Ye, Murong Qiufeng’s kind and trusting nature made him vulnerable to manipulation. And Sun Yan, for all his strength, became uncontrollable in the heat of battle.
Arriving at the courtyard, she saw Sun Yan slouched on the railing, yawning with boredom. The hall doors were open, and she heard the prince and Murong Qiufeng in quiet conversation.
Relieved, she approached them. “My lord, my prince,” she greeted, presenting the box. “The evidence has been secured.”
Prince Ye opened the box. The human skin had dried into stiff, wrinkled sheets.
Murong Qiufeng frowned. “What does this mean?”
Prince Ye looked to Youxiang.
“The tattoos are about a year old,” she explained. “The technique varies slightly, suggesting multiple artists. However, the ink contains a rare plant extract found only in Xichu’s frigid regions.”
“So someone is trying to frame the Du Gu family,” Murong Qiufeng surmised, glancing at the skin. “But why?”
“Maybe it’s not a frame-up,” Prince Ye said, tapping the box thoughtfully. “What about the An family?”
“The fourth young master and seventh young miss were abducted,” Youxiang reported. “Consort An’s chambers were also searched.”
“Just as I thought,” Prince Ye said. “Those two are Consort An’s full siblings. They’re being used to pressure her. The question is: what secret does she hold?”
“Should we go look for it?” he asked Murong Qiufeng with a teasing grin, toying with a lock of his hair.
“Didn’t the intruders already search the place?” Murong Qiufeng raised an eyebrow.
“They found nothing,” Prince Ye said, eyes gleaming. “That doesn’t mean there’s nothing to find.”
