Chapter 83: The Ghost-Faced Man, A Web of Doubts (Please Subscribe and Vote)

Chapter 83: The Masked Man and the Mystery

Qin Ruoyang spoke up at this moment. Most officials guessed that what he intended to report had something to do with the "haunting," but they couldn't fathom why he would raise an objection when Emperor Jun Dingyue had already dispatched Lu Anrong to handle the aftermath. Was he trying to challenge that old fox, Lu Anrong?

That seemed unlikely. Such a task was a death sentence if things went wrong; everyone avoided it like the plague, so why would anyone fight to take it on? Before they could process this, Jun Dingyue spoke.

"What does Minister Qin wish to report?" Though Jun Dingyue’s hands were stained with blood and his personality was somewhat deranged, at nearly sixty years of age, his imperial aura was enough to cow the court. Every glance he cast felt like a sharp arrow piercing the hearts of those present.

Qin Ruoyang stepped out to the center of the hall. His handsome features were grave and devoid of emotion. His magnetic voice echoed through the hall: "Last night, around midnight, I also heard that wailing. It was truly miserable, yet there were intervals of silence before the weeping resumed. I believe this is man-made, not the work of ghosts or gods. Your Majesty may wish to pacify the populace first, then conduct an investigation. I am willing to assist the Prime Minister in this matter. I await your decision!"

So, he had volunteered?

He had actually heard the crying too? Where had Qin Ruoyang been in the dead of night? The officials cast strange looks his way, convinced there must be some unspeakable secret behind his actions.

"Oh?" Jun Dingyue nodded slowly, drawing out the syllable meaningfully. He stroked his beard with a thick hand and asked, "Minister Qin also heard the wailing?"

"Yes, I did hear it last night," Qin Ruoyang replied.

After finishing his work at the Ministry of Justice last night, he had felt no desire to sleep and went out to enjoy the night scenery in the west of Yue City. On his way back, he had intended to visit Anran, but decided it was too late to disturb her. He stopped at the gate of Anran’s residence but did not knock. Instead, he walked toward the Qin estate, carrying a small trinket he had bought at the night market.

While passing the abandoned General’s manor, he had faintly heard those sorrowful, mournful sounds emanating from within—cries of immense grief and endless longing. They were bone-chilling.

Standing to the side, Lu Anrong calmly observed Qin Ruoyang. A flicker of cunning light passed through his eyes before he lowered his head.

He hated Jun Dingyue to the core. Now that the General’s manor was "haunted," the blame for the massacre of the Leng clan fifteen years ago was being pushed onto him, while Jun Dingyue washed his hands of it. If not for the Emperor’s suspicion, or if he had trusted the Leng clan, he wouldn't have thrown the entire household into prison on trumped-up charges just half an hour after suggesting it, only to have them executed the next day.

He remembered the day the Leng family was beheaded. The oldest was over eighty, the youngest only three. The execution grounds were soaked in blood, and the heavy rain had washed the ground for a day and a night to cleanse the stains. He had been the supervising official, while Jun Dingyue watched the entire spectacle from a nearby teahouse.

Now, Jun Dingyue was shifting the responsibility onto him. If it were discovered that the Leng family’s "rebellion" was a fabrication, Jun Dingyue would exonerate them to appease the public. And to silence the world, he would throw Lu Anrong onto the chopping block.

"Prime Minister Lu, Prime Minister Lu, the Emperor is asking you a question!"

Eunuch Deng, the head of the household, noticed Lu Anrong’s distraction and called out twice.

"Ah, I deserve to die! Please forgive me, Your Majesty!" Lu Anrong snapped back to reality, his heart trembling as he saw the suspicious glares from the Emperor and the other officials. He knelt and kowtowed immediately.

Lu Anrong was a cunning man. Since following Jun Dingyue, he had never argued or disagreed. He only offered suggestions, and if the Emperor deemed them viable, they were executed. He never spoke a word more.

"Rise, Minister Lu," Jun Dingyue said with a wave of his hand.

Lu Anrong wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, feigning terror. This performance satisfied Jun Dingyue’s need for dominance.

"Minister Lu, did you hear what Minister Qin said? I find his words quite reasonable. In that case, the Ministry of Justice will assist you in investigating the abandoned manor. Before that, issue a notice to pacify the people, stating that someone is merely playing tricks."

"As you command!"

Lu Anrong glanced at Qin Ruoyang. He wondered what the man was up to. With the Ministry of Justice involved, his plan to eradicate the remnants of the Leng clan could not be exposed. Moreover, he had to guard against Qin Ruoyang using this as a pretext to reopen the case of the Leng family's rebellion.

"Court dismissed!"

"Long live the Emperor!"

As the officials left, Lu Anrong lingered. "Minister Qin, please stay a moment."

Qin Ruoyang stopped, his dark, deep eyes fixed on Lu Anrong.

"What advice do you have, Prime Minister?" Qin Ruoyang’s voice remained calm, which only made Lu Anrong more uneasy.

"When does Minister Qin plan to investigate the abandoned General’s manor?"

"Now!" Qin Ruoyang’s voice echoed in the empty hall.

Lu Anrong nodded with a forced smile. "Then I shall accompany you! Let us resolve this case early to ease His Majesty's worries!"

Qin Ruoyang nodded noncommittally and walked out. Lu Anrong hurried to follow.

...

In a teahouse, a storyteller was passionately recounting the battle where General Leng led eight hundred soldiers to break through an ambush of five thousand. He spoke with such vivid detail that the audience felt as if they were witnessing the heroism themselves.

Anran sat in a corner, holding a small fox, listening quietly. That battle had been the final one before Jun Dingyue ascended the throne. She remembered that at the time, she had just given birth to Lu Junchi, and Lu Anrong had celebrated with his brothers. Yet, in the blink of an eye, he had watched his beloved son die, and he hadn't lifted a finger to save him.

The city was abuzz with talk of the crying. Who was playing these tricks, and what was their goal?

Not only was the crying strange, but this storyteller had appeared out of nowhere. His accent suggested he was not a local of Yue City. To praise a "traitor" was a capital offense, yet this man seemed entirely unafraid.

"And so," the storyteller struck his gavel, "to know what happened next, come back tomorrow!"

...

After leaving the teahouse, the storyteller ducked into an alley and met a man in black wearing a ghost mask.

"Master!"

"Well done today. Continue your work," the masked man said, his voice as cold as ice.

As the storyteller left, the masked man spoke into the empty alley: "You’ve heard enough. Come out."

Anran stepped out from the shadows, holding her fox. She was surprised to have been discovered; this person’s cultivation was clearly far above her own.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"That is my question for you," the masked man replied. "A young lady like you should be at home practicing embroidery, not eavesdropping. If you lose your life, don't blame anyone else!"

"How do you know about General Leng? What is your purpose?" Anran demanded.

"My affairs need not be explained to anyone," the masked man scoffed. "I will spare you today, but next time, you will leave your life behind!"

Anran’s eyes turned cold. Many had tried to take her life; none had succeeded.

The masked man was taken aback by her sudden change in aura. He felt no urge to kill her—a fact that shocked even him.

"If you won't leave, then I shall!"

"You think you can leave without explaining?" Anran struck out with her palm toward his face.

The masked man dodged easily, leaping onto the roof. "Overestimating yourself!"

They clashed on the rooftops, their figures turning into blurs of black and white. After a powerful exchange of palms, they separated.

"To find such intensity in a young girl... this trip was not in vain!" the masked man laughed.

Anran swallowed the blood rising in her throat, her expression cold. "Don't insult General Leng. If you do, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth!"

She disappeared into the night. The masked man looked at his palm; there was a tiny black mark. "Poison insects!" he hissed.

...

Back at the Anran Residence, Anran prepared a dose of poison for Prince Li, Jun Moli.

"This is poison," she said coldly.

Jun Moli, having learned to trust her, drank it without hesitation. A cool sensation spread through his body, clearing his channels.

"I have a condition for this medicine," Anran said, her eyes flashing. "I want your two guards for two days."

"Done," Jun Moli agreed instantly.

Anran’s plan was to use these guards to investigate the haunting, convinced that the mystery of the Leng family was finally unraveling. If her kin were truly still alive, she would find them. Her hatred had brought her back to life; perhaps others had returned as well.

The game was no longer just about waiting for her enemies to destroy each other. Someone had already begun to move, and she would be the one to orchestrate the end.