Accidentally Having a Baby with the Future Emperor - Chapter 92

Xiao Rong immediately understood the deeper meaning behind Prince Xiao’s command and his hand tightened on the longbow.

At any other time, no matter how this arrow landed, it would not have mattered.

But not now.

It was clear Prince Xiao’s suspicion had already turned toward Xi Rong. If this arrow failed to pierce the soft armor, Xi Rong might find himself in grave danger.

All his life, Xiao Rong had fancied himself callous and carefree, yet for once, he felt something unfamiliar: a flicker of panic.

What should he do?

His archery was decent, but truth be told, it was nowhere near enough to pierce gold-threaded armor.

That day, when he had taken the blame for killing Yan Hemei, it had been a desperate situation and he’d had no better choice. He had known there were flaws in his story, but he hadn’t feared Prince Xiao’s suspicion. After all, even if Prince Xiao guessed he’d had help, he would never have imagined that helper to be Xi Rong.

However, now, things were entirely different.

Xiao Rong looked at the armor gleaming dangerously in the dark, raised his arm, notched an arrow to the string, and slowly drew the bow, aiming directly at the center of the target, where the armor’s heart lay.

The arrow flew through the air and struck dead-on at the soft armor’s center, yet the next instant, like a falcon with its wings broken, it dropped straight to the ground.

The armor was utterly unscathed, not even a spark scraped from its surface.

It was certainly expected but still far below Xiao Rong’s true ability.

As the arrow fell, silence settled over the entire training ground. Only the faint night breeze stirred.

Xiao Rong turned toward Prince Xiao, knelt, and held the bow before him. “Your son’s state is poor today. I have disappointed Father.”

Prince Xiao’s face was as cold as frost. After a long pause, he stood, not sparing his son a glance. “Then stay here and practice,” he said evenly. “One night should be enough to show your true skill.” With that, he swept his sleeves and left.

Mo Chun stepped forward, offering the remaining arrows to Xiao Rong.

Xiao Rong rose in silence, took another arrow, returned to his stance, and shot again and again. When the arrows were spent, he ordered Mo Chun to retrieve them and repeated the same motion, over and over.

Mo Chun had always been like a shadow at Prince Xiao’s side, the oldest among his personal guards and one who rarely spoke except to deliver orders. However, when Xiao Rong once more told him to fetch the arrows, the taciturn general finally broke his silence. “This kind of practice has no meaning, Young Prince. Perhaps you should rest for a while.”

Xiao Rong gave no reply.

Mo Chun could only walk to the targets, gather the scattered arrows one by one, pick out two with bent arrowheads, and hand them back to Xiao Rong.

Just as Xiao Rong was about to loose another shot, Mo Chun took out a jade thumb ring from his sleeve and said, “Young Prince should wear this, so you don’t injure your hand.”

Xiao Rong glanced at it. Under the circumstances, there was no reason to make things harder for himself, so he accepted it and slipped it onto the thumb of his bow hand.

To say his mind was calm would be a lie.

As a result, his arrows grew more erratic, flying wider and wider from the mark.

When all the arrows were spent again, Xiao Rong threw the bow aside, sank into a chair nearby, and pressed a hand to his forehead, staring blankly up at the night sky. By the second half of the night, he had fallen asleep right there in the chair.

Mo Chun fetched a cloak to cover him, then went and picked up the longbow lying quietly on the training ground.

The next morning, Xiao Rong returned to Jade Dragon Terrace, changed into his court robes, and went straight to the Chancellery.

He arrived early and there were only a few people in the office. Before long, Liu Huai’en came in. Seeing Xiao Rong already seated behind the desk, copying official documents, his figure framed by morning light, graceful and refined as jade, Liu Huai’en couldn’t help showing a trace of surprise.

“My young junior brother has taken a liking to clerical work now? If our master could see this, he’d be so proud.” He stroked his beard, smiling teasingly.

Xiao Rong paused his brush and looked up. “Just unfinished matters from yesterday, senior brother. No need to make fun of me.”

Liu Huai’en, known for his warm nature, studied him for a moment, and then asked with concern, “Why the dark circles under your eyes? Did you not sleep well? Wait, what happened to your hand?”

Xiao Rong had slept, but not well. The training yard had no herbs to ward off mosquitoes and he’d fed those ravenous little beasts plenty of blood. As for his hand, it was rubbed raw from shooting arrows half the night. Even with the thumb ring later, some skin had still been scraped off.

“It’s nothing,” he said lightly. “Just a small cut.”

Liu Huai’en immediately asked, “Is it bad? Want me to find someone to tend to it?”

Xiao Rong smiled and shook his head. “No need. It’ll heal soon.”

Then Liu Huai’en said, “Oh, by the way, you won’t need to go to the Ministry of War for the handover today.”

Xiao Rong looked at him questioningly.

With the martial arts tournament approaching, the Ministry of War had constant correspondence with the Chancellery; there was no reason for a pause.

Lowering his voice, Liu Huai’en said, “You probably haven’t heard yet. Something major happened. The Court of Judicial Review has uncovered the mastermind behind the assassination attempt on His Majesty at Ci’en Temple.”

It had been some time since the Emperor’s attempted assassination, yet the court had never identified the true culprit. The entire judicial office had been under a cloud of dread and frustration.

Now that there was a breakthrough, it was indeed big news, but Liu Huai’en’s expression was grave, suggesting it was far from simple.

Xiao Rong said, “With something this serious, the Court of Judicial Review wouldn’t normally let news leak out so easily.”

“They can’t keep it quiet anymore.” Liu Huai’en shook his head. “Do you know who the supposed mastermind is? A remnant of the Northern Barbarians, one that should have been wiped out years ago. Stranger still, the monk Hui Xian, who just confessed to it, was found dead the next night, his throat slit in prison. The court had planned to reexamine his testimony and track down the true instigator’s whereabouts before reporting upward, but now that he’s been silenced, the news has spread.”

A faint dread began to take hold in Xiao Rong’s chest. “Weren’t the Northern Barbarians eradicated seven years ago, when the Crown Prince led the campaign himself?”

“Yes. But the confession explicitly named them, word for word. So now some are speculating that back then, the Crown Prince’s campaign of ‘righteous justice’ was a façade; that he’d shown mercy to his mother’s people and deceived the throne. Worse, the court now suspects that the man who snuck into the prison and killed Hui Xian… was the Crown Prince himself.”

Xiao Rong said at once, “That’s impossible.”

Liu Huai’en found his certainty a bit too firm. “I agree; it doesn’t seem like something the Crown Prince would do. But according to the palace guards’ confidential report, the Crown Prince wasn’t in his quarters that night and only returned the next morning. When the court questioned him yesterday, he claimed he’d gone out for a walk, but he had no attendants and no witnesses. Isn’t that a bit too coincidental?”

Xiao Rong was silent for a moment and then asked quietly, “And now… what has become of the Crown Prince?”

“His Majesty has ordered the Three Judicial Divisions to conduct a joint trial and he’ll personally attend the hearing today. It should be starting right about now.” Liu Huaien glanced at the sky. “Oh, right,” he said suddenly, “I nearly forgot; our Ministry must also send someone to attend.”

***

When Xiao Rong followed Liu Huaien to the Court of Judicial Review, the Hall of Justice, where the Three Judicial Divisions’ joint tribunal was held, was already packed.

Besides the officials from the Three Judicial Divisions, the heads of the Three Departments and high-ranking officials of each ministry were also present. Prince Xiao and Cui Daohuan sat on opposite sides, while the presiding officials of the Court of Judicial Review were relegated to the side seats.

In the seat of judgment itself, where the chief magistrate should have sat, was the Emperor, clad in a bright yellow dragon robe. The Prince of Wei and the Prince of Jin stood respectfully at his sides, serving him in attendance.

Cui Xie, too, was seated among the officials of the Central Secretariat, dressed in a crimson robe of his rank.

As for Xi Rong, although he was the accused, there was no solid evidence against him and his status was far too exalted for him to kneel like a common criminal. Thus, he sat in a single chair placed in the center of the hall.

Jiang Cheng, Song Yang, and Zhou Wenhe were not qualified to enter the hall itself; they could only wait outside.

Given Liu Huai’en’s relatively modest rank, he did not sit among the senior officials of the Three Departments. Therefore, upon entering, both he and Xiao Rong took their seats at the back, where two chairs had been left empty.

At that moment, nearly every gaze in the hall was fixed upon Xi Rong seated at its center. Yet his expression remained calm and composed, showing none of the panic or unease of a man under accusation.

When the Emperor finished his cup of tea, the trial formally began.

The Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, serving as chief examiner, first bowed to the Emperor and recited the case summary and its main points of contention.

The Emperor listened quietly and then turned his gaze to Xi Rong.

“Crown Prince,” he said, “what do you have to say regarding the suspicions raised by the Three Judicial Divisions?”

Xi Rong rose and gave a proper bow. “Seven years ago,” he began, “it was this son who volunteered to lead the northern campaign against the barbarians. It was by Your Majesty’s trust that such a heavy responsibility was entrusted to this son. This son dare not claim to be righteous enough to place duty above kinship, yet this son does know right from wrong. The northern tribes repaid our grace with betrayal; they broke the treaty and rose in rebellion, betraying Your Majesty’s mercy. Their crimes are beyond pardon. As heir to the throne, how could this son, for private sentiment, defy royal command or undermine the laws of the realm?

“Besides, this son once lived as a child with Your Majesty among those northern tribes. This son has seen with his own eyes their cruelty and savagery. How could this son ever harbor any fondness for them? Therefore, this son does not acknowledge the suspicions of the Three Judicial Divisions, unless they can produce irrefutable proof that remnants of the northern tribes still exist and that this son has truly conspired with them. For such an accusation is not merely a doubt cast upon this son; it is a doubt cast upon Your Majesty’s own wisdom and justice.”

The Emperor listened in silence and then asked, “What do my ministers think?”

Cui Xie was the first to speak, his tone unhurried. “Although His Highness’s words are eloquent and moving, they do not explain his whereabouts on the night in question. Hui Xian died suddenly in prison and His Highness happened not to be in the Eastern Palace.

“Furthermore, the so-called surviving barbarian Hui Xian mentioned was deeply connected to His Highness in multiple ways. Is that not all too convenient? How does His Highness explain such a coincidence?”

“Indeed,” said the Prince of Wei, barely concealing his glee. “Although this younger brother wishes to believe in His Highness’s innocence, Lord Cui speaks truly. On the night Hui Xian was assassinated, where exactly was His Highness? Who can bear witness for him? Even if he had gone to a tavern, there should be servants, innkeepers, or patrons who saw him. Surely His Highness does not mean to tell His Majesty and the Three Judicial Divisions that he was merely out for a stroll that night?

“And such a secretive matter, why would the Crown Prince himself take such pains to conceal his movements, even from his own attendants?”

The Prince of Wei’s words were harsh, but not without logic.

Cui Xie leaned back, his expression calm and almost leisurely.

All eyes once again turned toward Xi Rong.

Xi Rong’s lips curved into a faint, ironic smile. “It is true,” he said, “that I cannot find anyone to testify where I was that night. But, Prince of Wei, what proof do you have that I was the one who struck Hui Xian down?”

The Prince of Wei immediately retorted, “Without a witness, you cannot clear yourself! And tell me, who else in this realm shares such close ties with the remnants of the northern tribes as you do? As the saying goes, a prince who breaks the law must be punished as any commoner. There are many within this court who refuse to confess. The Court of Judicial Review has ways to make them speak. Your Highness, will you truly resist to the very end?”

Xi Rong clearly paid the words no heed. Slowly, he raised his cold, sharp gaze. “Who said,” he murmured, “that there is no witness?”

A clear, cool voice followed at once. “I can testify,” it said, “that on the night in question, His Highness the Crown Prince did not go to the Court of Judicial Review’s prison.”

All eyes turned.

A young man stood up among the rows of officials, his bearing luminous and steady.

It was Xiao Rong.