Transmigrating to the Qi Family - Chapter 205

The investigation reaches this point—the truth of the past is just one step away from being revealed.

Late at night, Pei Che sits in his room, staring at the waist token and matching sword in front of him, lost in thought.

Jiang Miao turns over in bed and reaches out to the side, intending to continue sleeping, but his hand grasps at empty space. Frowning with his eyes closed, he gropes around, but the familiar warmth of the chest that is usually so close is nowhere to be found.

He abruptly opens his eyes and sits up. The words “Ah Che” are on the tip of his tongue, but upon seeing the figure sitting by the table, he swallows them back.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Miao gets up and sits down at the table, pouring himself a cup of tea to wake up. The tea has gone cold, and its bitterness makes Jiang Miao grimace as he drinks, eliciting a small chuckle from the slightly somber Pei Che beside him.

“I’m fine, just couldn’t sleep.”

Jiang Miao glances at the items on the table and immediately understands. “Are you worried that if you dig deeper, this matter will implicate… that person?”

Pei Che lets out a bitter laugh. “Yes. Things are getting more and more complicated, and now it involves the royal family. Back then, the fiercest conflict was between the current emperor and the fourth prince. My father was close friends with the fourth prince. It seems undeniable who would have wanted to harm him.”

“But he shows no difference when facing you. Everyone says that guilt betrays a thief, yet he remains completely composed while facing the son of the people he allegedly ordered to be killed. Isn’t that level of composure too perfect?” Jiang Miao says. “Not only that, but he even arranged a marriage between you and me, a commoner, clearly as a way to vent his anger. If the Emperor truly had your parents killed back then, would he need to resort to such underhanded tactics for revenge? What’s more, at first, the Emperor intended for you to marry the princess. If he had really been behind your parents’ deaths, would he dare to keep their son so close? After all, a son-in-law often has to appear before the Emperor.”

“Perhaps he believes the matter is so well concealed that no one could possibly uncover it.” Pei Che feels shaken by Jiang Miao’s analysis but can’t shake the thought—aside from the emperor, who else would want to harm his father?

Jiang Miao props his chin on his hand, his eyes flickering with thought. “That’s also possible. His motive does hold up. But for now, the most important thing is to investigate the owner of this waist token and sword. It’s a pity the token is corroded by rust; otherwise, the truth would’ve come to light long ago.”

“The waist tokens are issued uniformly by the palace,” Pei Che explains. “Every time the palace staff is replaced, the tokens are collected and stored before a new batch is distributed. This is to prevent outdated tokens from being used to enter or leave the palace freely.”

Pei Che picks up the corroded waist token and examines it carefully. “If one went missing during the exchange, the palace would have recorded it. If we can find a way to check those records, we’ll know which palace guard it was assigned to.”

“Then what about this sword? Was it issued too?” Jiang Miao’s gaze shifts to the other side, where the sword lies. It looks ordinary, as if it could be found anywhere.

“This sword is just a common item. The swords issued by the palace bear specific markings, and even their craftsmanship differs from other swords. If someone used a palace-issued sword to commit murder, it would be easily traceable. If they intended to cover their tracks, they would have purposely bought a new sword to avoid suspicion.”

Jiang Miao feels a bit regretful. The discovery of the corpse comes too late; otherwise, tracing the sword’s maker might have yielded some valuable clues.

He glances around, his expression puzzled, as though searching for something.

Pei Che notices and, after a brief moment of thought, understands what he’s looking for.

“Are you looking for the remains?”

Jiang Miao’s eyes curve into a smile. “You know me so well. That’s exactly what I’m looking for. Where did you put it?”

A faint smile appears on Pei Che’s face. “You’re not afraid?”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m a grown man. How could I be afraid of a skeleton? I’m a staunch materialist!”

Pei Che hears the phrase he doesn’t quite understand and silently commits it to memory to ask about later. For now, he simply explains the whereabouts of the remains.

“You mean you’ve already had someone transport it to Liangjing for forensic examination?”

“Yes. Although we can’t determine the person’s identity, we should be able to deduce their height, age, and general characteristics,” Pei Che explains. The skeleton is an important piece of evidence, so he entrusts it to someone reliable.

“Well, let’s hope the forensic examiner has great skills. That way, we’ll have some leads when we return to the capital,” Jiang Miao says, yawning. It seems that cold tea isn’t very effective for him.

Pei Che smiles again and says gently, “Go rest. I’ll sit for a while longer.”

Jiang Miao rolls his eyes, grabs his hand, and pulls him toward the bed. “Sit, sit, sit—for what? You’re not made of iron. Lie down! Even if you can’t sleep, close your eyes and think.”

Faced with such a “forceful” move, Pei Che can only surrender. He obediently removes his outer robe and lies down.

Jiang Miao pulls one of Pei Che’s hands into his arms, hugs him tightly, and falls asleep within moments.

Pei Che turns his head to look at Jiang Miao’s sleeping face. Feeling the warm presence beside him, his eyelids grow heavy, and he soon drifts off as well.

“Master, we’ve received word that the results are in,” a subordinate reports as soon as Pei Che and his group arrive back in Liangjing, handing over a sheet of paper.

Pei Che takes the paper and reads it: Male, approximately 25 to 26 years old at the time of death, height five chi three cun, with an extra toe on the right foot. Some bones are fractured, likely caused by a fall from a height.

“Five chi three cun?” Jiang Miao leans in to take a look and quickly calculates the measurement using modern units. “About 1.76 meters—roughly my height.”

“With this information, we just need to trace who the waist token was issued to at the time. Once we find those individuals, we’ll figure out who this person is,” Jiang Miao says with excitement.

Pei Che, however, is less optimistic. Records of the waist tokens are stored in the palace, managed by the Chief Imperial Guard. Ordinary officials wouldn’t have access to such information. Beyond that, he needs to consult his grandmother.

Pei Che’s grandmother is overjoyed to see them return safely. After hearing the results of their investigation, she sighs deeply.

“It was my fault for being muddle-headed. If I had been stronger back then and sent someone to investigate, your father and mother would not have been left to die unjustly all these years. Since you’ve uncovered so much, continue investigating. Whatever consequences arise, Grandma will bear them.”

“Grandmother, rest assured. I will uncover the truth to bring peace to my father and mother in the afterlife,” Pei Che vows.

Grandmother Pei nods in relief. “You should inform your maternal grandfather as well. The events of that year caused him immense pain too.”

“Yes, Che’er dare not hide anything. I will report this matter to my grandfather and uncles.”

Grandma Pei studies Pei Che for a moment, then glances at Jiang Miao. “Che’er, you and… Ah-Miao should rest. After such a long journey, you must be exhausted.”

“Then we will go down.”

“We’ll take our leave, then.” Pei Che bows to the elderly woman, then leads the absentminded Jiang Miao away.

Once they exit her courtyard, Jiang Miao snaps out of his daze. “Did you hear what she just called me? It gave me chills!” He shivers exaggeratedly, goosebumps rising. Since his marriage to Pei Che, the old lady has barely acknowledged him, often referring to him as “Che’er’s wife” or some other dismissive term. But today, her tone has completely changed.

Pei Che suppresses a smile and deliberately says, “How can you talk about your elders behind their backs?”

“I didn’t talk about her. I’m just not used to it. Why the sudden change? She won’t make me accompany her on garden strolls next time, will she?” Jiang Miao scratches his head, clearly troubled. “If she dislikes me, I feel awkward. But if she’s too kind, that feels even worse. It was better when she was indifferent.”

Pei Che can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry. Grandmother’s just being momentarily sentimental. She probably felt bad seeing how much effort you’ve been putting in. Next time you see her, she’ll be back to her usual self.”

Pei Che knows his grandmother’s attitude isn’t about Jiang Miao as a person. What she takes issue with is the title of “daughter-in-law.” No matter who holds that title, she wouldn’t be entirely satisfied.