Transmigrating to the Qi Family - Chapter 207

After receiving the list delivered by Su Jin, Pei Che sinks into deep thought.

In the 37th year of Emperor Mingcheng’s reign, the list of people who have not returned their waist tokens contains none assigned to the Third Prince’s estate.

Previously, Pei Che does not voice it but internally assumes that the Third Prince at the time—now the current Emperor—is behind it. However, this list suggests that his earlier assumptions are wrong.

Jiang Miao pats him on the shoulder and says, “One name alone doesn’t explain anything. Let’s first investigate the identities of these individuals and find out who was killed near Ciji Temple back then. Only then can we draw conclusions.”

Jiang Miao understands that Pei Che is too involved in the matter, clouding his judgment. After all, this is tied to the grudge involving his parents, making it difficult for him to remain objective.

Taking a deep breath, Pei Che suppresses the swirling emotions rising within him.

“I’ll head to the government office now. Wait at home for my news.”

“No, I’ll go with you. Two people will make the search faster,” Jiang Miao insists. The list contains over a dozen names. If there are people with the same names, it will take time to distinguish them. Two people are far more efficient than one.

After giving brief instructions, they wait for the coachman to arrive with the carriage. Once it arrives, they board and head for the Ministry of Revenue.

The Ministry of Revenue is bustling with activity at this time. It’s the end of the month, and accounts need to be finalized. Other government offices are also submitting delayed reports to request silver, causing the guards at the entrance to feel like they need an extra pair of eyes to avoid letting in unauthorized people by mistake.

When Pei Che enters, the guards momentarily freeze before realizing what’s happening.

“Is… Lord Pei recovered from his illness?” one asks.

“I hear he is infected with smallpox and won’t live much longer,” another says in a hushed voice.

“You’ve got it wrong. It isn’t smallpox—it’s poison that disfigures. I hear someone, jealous of Lord Pei’s extraordinary looks, did it out of malice,” someone else confidently asserts.

“You’re all wrong,” chimes in another guard, his face full of smugness. “Lord Pei’s face is ruined by himself. They say he is so obsessed with maintaining his appearance that he often seeks remedies, and this time he applies something to his face that causes the rash.”

The others suddenly understand, nodding in agreement. Maintaining one’s looks, it seems, is no easy feat for men either.

These speculations are far from being spot-on; in fact, they’re utterly unrelated. Fortunately, Pei Che himself is unaware of these rumors. Otherwise, he’d be left speechless.

Compared to the busyness of other departments, the Civil Affairs Division remains unusually idle on such days. Some officials even leave early to meet up for drinks. Thus, Pei Che’s arrival does not attract much attention.

Holding the slip of paper with the names, Pei Che and Jiang Miao head to the storeroom where the household registry records are kept. Each of them picks a corner and starts searching.

The search lasts until the time for lighting lamps. The clerk responsible for locking up the storeroom peeks in three times before finally seeing the two come out.

“We can tentatively conclude that the person killed should be among this group,” Pei Che says.

Back at home, the two hastily finish dinner and spread out several sheets of paper on the table for analysis. These papers list the individuals filtered out based on their age from the household registries.

“Yes, tomorrow I’ll send people to investigate near the homes of these individuals to find out who he truly is,” Jiang Miao suggests.

The next day, the dispatched investigators head to the addresses on their assigned papers. One of them, sent to Dong Alley in the Inner City to inquire about the Zuo family, makes a breakthrough.

A maidservant under the supervision of an aunt in the Zuo household spills everything she knows for just two taels of silver. When she talks about the eldest son of the main family, a man born with six toes, her face is full of disdain.

“I say he is unlucky from the day he is born. Tell me, who has six toes? If he were from my family, I’d have had him thrown away. But I suppose he had some luck. A few years back, he was chosen to serve as an imperial guard—a man who could even meet the emperor! I thought the Zuo family was about to produce someone remarkable. But who knew he’d be so unlucky? He goes out once and never returns. Everyone says he’s dead. I think so too—if he weren’t, why wouldn’t he come back?”

The investigator pours her another cup of wine, flattering her while discreetly extracting more information. He then consolidates the findings and reports them to Pei Che.

“This person’s surname is Zuo, given name Shun. He stands five feet three inches tall, aged thirty-seven, and has an extra toe on his right foot.”

Pei Che examines the information, which matches perfectly. When Zuo Shun dies, he is around twenty-five or twenty-six. Now, years later, being thirty-seven aligns with the timeline.

“The Zuo family is an ordinary household, but he has an aunt who, due to her beauty, becomes the secondary wife of a third-rank official. A couple of years later, she gives birth to a healthy son, solidifying her position. That year, the palace needed recruits and plans to select male members from the households of officials in Liangjing to serve as guards. Zuo Shun fills the spot allocated to that third-rank official’s household and joins the guard camp.

“Not long after entering the palace, the late emperor ordered the division of estates among several princes. As Zuo Shun wasn’t particularly outstanding, he was assigned to the Sixth Prince’s estate during the division.”

Pei Che nods, understanding now. To enter the palace as a guard, one must come from a family with a clear background. With a third-rank official providing a guarantee, even though the Zuo family is an ordinary household, they can still gain entry to the palace. Since Zuo Shun serves under the Sixth Prince, could the events of that year be related to the Sixth Prince?

The thought leaves Pei Che hesitant. Jiang Miao notices his troubled expression and asks if he has thought of something.

Pei Che replies, “This man serves under the Sixth Prince. Logically, we should suspect that the Sixth Prince is involved with him. However, the Sixth Prince has always been crippled and is disfavored by the late emperor. What reason would he have to harm my father and the others?”

“Could it be that his leg ailment is a façade? Perhaps he’s been biding his time, and back then he reveals his true colors,” Jiang Miao suggests, his imagination running wild.

Pei Che shakes his head decisively. “Impossible. He was born with this leg condition. Unless all the royal male heirs are wiped out, he’d never have a chance at becoming emperor. The Sixth Prince has always been reclusive and has no close allies, let alone any involvement in the struggle for succession.”

At this point, what once seemed like a clear truth becomes shrouded in uncertainty again. Jiang Miao furrows his brows and carefully reviews the information gathered by the investigator. Finally, he identifies a potential breakthrough.

“That third-rank official—who is he?” Jiang Miao asks.

Pei Che also looks at the investigator, who quickly catches on and responds, “His surname is Cheng, Kaihua. Back then, he held a third-rank position, but later, for reasons unknown, he was stripped of his title by the current emperor and sent back to his hometown.”

The seemingly dead-end case takes another turn. Pei Che analyzes the new lead. “Ah Miao, do you think it’s possible that the current emperor instructs Cheng Kaihua to carry out this matter? Then, fearing it might leak, he discards him and sends him back to his hometown to silence him?”

Jiang Miao ponders this and replies, “Your analysis makes sense, but something feels off. Normally, someone entrusted with such a shady task would be a trusted confidant of their superior. Why wouldn’t the emperor try to win over such a person or silence them permanently? Instead, he sends him back home. Isn’t he afraid that these people might spread rumors once they’re back in their hometown? When the public’s voice becomes as powerful as molten gold, how could the current emperor still sleep peacefully?”

“You have a point,” Pei Che sighs. “Maybe I’m overthinking things.”

Jiang Miao pats the back of his hand. “You’re just desperate to uncover the truth. I think matters like this in the officialdom might be better discussed with your maternal grandfather. Weren’t we planning to inform him about this anyway?”

Pei Che nods. “Tomorrow’s a rest day. Prepare some gifts later, and we’ll visit Grandfather first thing tomorrow.”