As they spoke, they had arrived at the foot of the mountain, near a stream. Prince Cheng dismounted, used the stream water to wash off the dust from the journey, and his expression brightened. He drank a few sips of water from the stream, then turned to his brother with a smile: "This is truly a beautiful place."
The sound of hurried hooves was heard. Nangong Bo, riding a lean horse, arrived late, the hem of his blue robe splattered with mud, looking full of apologies. He carefully dismounted, dusted off his clothes, and, panting, greeted them: "Your Highness Prince Rui, Your Highness Prince Cheng, Qingxuan has arrived late, please forgive me."
Together, they chose a flat stone at the edge of the forest to sit on. The servants took out the tea set they were carrying. Nangong Bo took out some jade-green tea leaves from his cloth bag, which exuded a delicate fragrance.
Stream water was poured into the teapot, and the charcoal fire was lit. Fine wisps of hot steam curled with the wind, the light scent of tea dancing with the autumn breeze.
Chu Jin contemplated the brew and said in a low voice: "This tea in the forest is more fragrant than the one from the palace."
"This tea comes from Lingnan; it's called '雨前雪芽 Snow Buds from Before the Rain'. The leaves are fine, its fragrance is intense, and its flavor is lingering," he said, delicately taking a few leaves and tossing them into the teapot. "My father passed away young, my mother sold tea to make a living, and I learned some rudimentary methods from the tea farmers."
Prince Cheng raised an eyebrow upon hearing this: "The Lingnan region is full of miasma; have you been there too?"
Nangong Bo smiled: "Lingnan is a harsh land, but it also has beautiful mountains and waters. Once, when passing through Huizhou, I spent the night in a mountain temple. The monks served me this tea, and I immediately memorized its fragrance. Later, following the river west to Zhaojiang, I saw that the villagers always used spring water from the streams to prepare tea. The water was fragrant with osmanthus; some called it '醉仙露 Drunken Immortals' Dew', and its flavor was particularly exquisite."
Prince Cheng, half-reclining on the stone, said nonchalantly: "Then, let's get drunk on tea."
Zhang Huaiqian sipped the tea. Its fragrance passed through his teeth, gentle, pure, and fresh. His heart relaxed. He turned to Nangong Bo and suddenly said: "An ancient poem says: '一瓯春雪洗尘心,坐对青山百念沉.A cup of spring snow washes the heart of worldly dust; sitting before the green mountains, a hundred thoughts subside.' What Brother Qingxuan describes corresponds exactly to this idea."
He paused briefly, then added: "I was caught by rain in the wilderness and spent the night alone in a ruined temple. At that moment, the wind whistled against the stones, the scent of tea wafted over the table. Moved, I wrote on the wall: '山雨初收炉火静,纸窗微透野茶香.The mountain rain has just ceased, the hearth fire is calm; through the paper window filters the fragrance of wild tea.'"
Zhang Huaiqian, after listening, showed slight approval and nodded: "Subtle intent, deep emotion, quiet strength."
After several rounds of tea, the conversation drifted to the old imperial examinations.
Prince Cheng asked with a laugh: "What exactly are you asked in those examinations for scholars?"
"Three subjects: classical studies, literature, and current affairs," Nangong Bo replied, smiling and pinching a tea leaf. "For the 'Tie Jing' test (rote citation), they remove the beginning and end of classical texts; it's really tricky."
"The hardest part is the political essay. My deskmate cheated by bringing in crib notes. He got caught, climbed the wall to escape, and ended up with his backside in a thorn bush. The scream he let out was truly 'colorful'!" Zhang Huaizian recounted, unable to hold back his laughter.
Everyone burst out laughing.
Chu Jin looked at Nangong Bo and asked: "Qingxuan, have you already received a promise of entry into the Hanlin Academy?"
"I haven't been appointed yet," Nangong Bo sighed lightly. "The civil service examination hasn't been organized yet; I still feel idle."
"You passed all three examinations brilliantly. If the court doesn't employ you, wouldn't that be a waste of talent?" Prince Cheng said seriously.
Chu Jin smiled and nodded: "It shouldn't be long now. I've heard that Father Emperor intends to organize a palace examination, wishing to personally select talents. If Qingxuan can become a disciple of the Son of Heaven, his future will surely be limitless."
Prince Cheng teased him: "When the time comes, let me see your golden letter of appointment, so I can bask in it a little!"
Nangong Bo accepted with a smile.
As they were talking, Chu Xuan suddenly stood up and pointed to the river: "Is that... a qin?"
Everyone followed his gaze. The river water was shallow. An object lay at the bottom, the back of a qin vaguely visible, the character "Jing" (璟) faintly appearing in the mud.
The moment Zhang Huaiqian's fingers touched the qin's strings, an icy chill ran down his spine from his fingertips. This was no ordinary submerged qin – all seven strings were broken, the break clean as if cut by a knife.
"Upstream!" Nangong Bo suddenly cried out, pointing to the rocky bank.
A bluish-white corpse was wedged between the rocks, its ink-black robe opened by the current, revealing a strange purple mark on its chest. The most frightening part was its face: eyes wide open, but the corners of its mouth turned up, as if smiling. A gust of mountain wind blew, ruffling the water's surface, and the body swayed slightly with it, like a possessed puppet.
"...Su Jing," Zhang Huaiqian murmured, his voice like a dream.
Chu Jin ordered someone to be sent to urgently inform the Dali Temple (Grand Court of Justice). Then, he contemplated the corpse by the water's edge, remaining silent for a long time.
Beside them, Prince Cheng, Chu Xuan, could no longer contain himself. He paced back and forth, his face full of anxiety: "If this matter drags on, it will really cause trouble. If brother Crown Prince learns that the qin musician from the Eastern Palace died outside the palace... he will certainly be furious!"
As he said this, he suddenly seemed to realize something. A glint of panicked calculation flashed in his eyes. He turned abruptly and grabbed the reins: "I'll go to the palace first to inform them!"
Zhang Huaiqian was about to step forward to stop him, but Chu Jin halted him with a slight wave of his hand, his voice calm: "Let him go; it's just as well."
Prince Cheng hesitated no longer and hurriedly departed for the Imperial City with his servants.
The wind blew through the forest, making the leaves flutter. The scene temporarily regained an ephemeral calm.
"Last night... I thought I heard Su Jing's qin."
Chu Jin turned slowly upon hearing these words, his gaze resting on Zhang Huaizian, a glint in his eyes.
Zhang Huaiqian nodded, his expression calm: "Last night was the Girls' Festival. I took my sister to release river lanterns. At the bridge on the south bank, I heard a passage from 'Prelude of the Pine under the Moon,' identical to what I had heard in the palace."
Chu Jin's expression changed imperceptibly. He replied in a low voice: "His technique always bordered on the divine. If it was a farewell melody, it had to be so." His tone was peaceful. He raised his sleeve and lightly brushed his wrist, as if to flick away invisible dust in the wind.
Zhang Huaiqian turned to Nangong Bo and said in a low voice: "Brother Qingxuan, if you wish to stay and help, that's fine; if you feel uncomfortable, I can send someone to take you back."
Nangong Bo shook his head, his tone firm: "I absolutely cannot leave like this."
Zhang Huaiqian raised his eyebrows slightly with a teasing air: "Are you afraid that we'll be scared guarding the corpse?"
But Nangong Bo said seriously: "Although I am merely a scholar, unaccustomed to corpses and blood, I also know that I cannot let you face this alone. If I turned tail and fled today, how could I claim to be a man of integrity?"
Zhang Huaiqian remained silent for a moment, then gave a slight smile: "Good. But don't be too tense. This kind of thing is not uncommon in the palace."
At that moment, the sound of hooves echoed through the forest.
Several horsemen rode through the forest. Leading them was the Head of the Dali Temple, Zhao Bingzhen. Usually strict and composed, his presence today testified to the gravity of the matter.
"Your Highness Prince Rui, this servant has arrived late," Zhao Bingzhen said, dismounting and bowing, his tone neither humble nor arrogant, his gaze sweeping over the corpse.
Zhang Huaiqian stepped forward to greet him and briefly recounted the facts.
Zhao Bingzhen said nothing, merely flicking his sleeve slightly. Two coroners immediately bent down to examine the body. A moment later, one of them straightened up, a pinch of golden powder in his palm: "There is gold powder under the fingernails, almost dry, with a strange fragrance. It is precisely '朱颜改 Zhuyan Gai' (Face-Altering Rouge)."
Zhao Bingzhen's face darkened. He said in a low voice: "This product is kept by the palace steward. Without an imperial decree, it cannot be used."
Chu Jin stepped forward, his tone calm: "Minister Zhao, this matter could involve the women's quarters. It must not be spoken of lightly. Temporarily seal this place, file the case in the secret archives, and do not let a single word leak out."
Zhao Bingzhen clasped his hands: "Your Highness can rest assured; I have already ordered my subordinates to remain silent. This matter will be entered into the secret archives of the Censorate and will not follow the usual procedure."
Barely were these words spoken when the sound of hooves, like driving rain tearing through the wind, came from outside the forest.
Dark clothes, a jade belt, a large gold-embroidered cape flapped in the forest wind. A man dressed in a deep black gauze tunic, lined with a yellow garment with discreet silver patterns, dismounted. His steps were not hurried but seemed to crush the forest wind.
The Crown Prince, Chu Xi, had arrived.
"Greetings to Your Highness the Crown Prince," everyone said, kneeling.
The Crown Prince said nothing and went directly to the corpse. His gaze was icy. He bent down, contemplating Su Jing's face for a long time. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing the already cold hair. A moment later, he straightened up abruptly, turned, and said in a loud voice: "Minister Zhao! What happened?"
Zhao Bingzhen replied in a grave voice: "According to the preliminary examination of the body, the gold powder under the fingernails and the lingering fragrance indicate the forbidden palace poison, 'Zhuyan Gai'. The cause of death should be suicide by poisoning."
The Crown Prince's gaze changed, sharp as a hook, and suddenly darted to Chu Jin: "My imperial brother arrived very quickly. The palace prohibitions are strict; how did you know he would be here?"
The air suddenly froze.
Chu Jin's expression remained impassive, his gait steady, his tone peaceful: "Today, I was strolling in the countryside with friends. I passed by chance and discovered this scene."
"You say you were strolling by chance, passed by chance, stumbled upon the corpse by chance, and recognized Su Jing by chance?" The Crown Prince's voice was clipped, sharp as an ice blade.
Chu Jin did not flinch: "Yes."
"What a coincidence," the Crown Prince said, lowering his eyes to the corpse, his gaze shifting to the purple mark and the broken qin, his voice growing darker and colder. "Precisely, the man died cleanly. Precisely, you were accompanied by external officials. Precisely, the Dali Temple also arrived very quickly."
Suddenly, he turned and shouted: "Minister Zhao, investigate thoroughly immediately!"
Zhao Bingzhen was surprised and had not yet recovered his wits: "Your Highness, the residual fragrance between the deceased's fingers, the absence of struggle marks nearby, the preliminary judgment indeed indicates poisoning, and this poison is furthermore..."
"Silence!" the Crown Prince's voice was hoarse, as if torn from his throat.
Zhao Bingzhen pressed his lips together and lowered his head without a word.
The Crown Prince waved his large sleeve, his robe billowing like a storm. He slowly swept his gaze over the assembly, his eyes like blades, his tone icy.
"I don't believe it."
He almost spat out the words, his teeth clenched: "I don't believe he committed suicide, I don't believe he obtained this poison himself, I don't believe he wandered alone in this forest without anyone knowing, I don't believe he personally threw that qin to the bottom of the water."
He turned abruptly, pointing to Su Jing's body, his voice suddenly rising: "This is clearly murder! Someone devised a scheme, someone administered the poison, someone concealed the facts!"
"Ha..." He let out a small laugh, but his face expressed no mirth. "Who thought all this out so carefully? Who is this talented 'cleaner'?"
His gaze fell abruptly back on Chu Jin, not yielding an inch.
"If this case is hastily closed today, then I will personally investigate it to the core! I will order the Dali Temple to search from South Street to North Alley; I will order the Censorate to dig up the palace walls and overturn the imperial gardens, from Su Jing's first step out of the Eastern Palace last night to the place where his soul dispersed!"
Saying this, he took a step forward, the hem of his robe stirring up dust. "If anyone dares to stop me – even if the capital must bathe in blood, I will unearth this murderer!"
He enunciated each word like iron: "Even if it's a palace poison, even if it's someone from the palace."
The atmosphere instantly froze. Zhao Bingzhen and the others looked at each other, no one daring to speak.
The Crown Prince's expression was contorted. He slowly raised his head, a sarcastic smile on his lips, yet imbued with deep sadness.
Chu Jin broke the silence: "If Your Highness the Crown Prince's words were to reach the Emperor's ears, I wonder what his decision would be?"
The coldness in the Crown Prince's eyes intensified, his anger difficult to contain. He took a step forward, abruptly grabbed Prince Rui's collar, and pulled him close: "Don't use Father Emperor to pressure me!"
His knuckles were white, the veins on his neck prominent, his fury burning.
But Chu Jin remained motionless, his voice falling like a dull bell: "You accompanied him for three years, day and night. Would Father Emperor be unaware of it?"
The Crown Prince's pupils trembled violently as if pricked by a needle.
Chu Jin continued in a low voice: "The Crown Prince being a model for the world, the Eastern Palace... should be pure and solemn, not tolerating personal feelings interfering with the law."
The air seemed to stagnate; even the birdsong was frightened away by this princely contest.
Zhao Bingzhen hurriedly stepped forward, clasped his hands, and said in a low voice: "Your Highness, calm your anger. The body is not yet cold; it is best to mourn."
The Crown Prince stared at Prince Rui for a few moments, then finally let him go, turned, and with a broad sweep of his sleeve, cut through the forest like a blade.
"I am taking the body to the Eastern Palace. It will be registered by the Music Bureau and will receive a funeral worthy of a fifth-rank official. This matter is closed."
Zhao Bingzhen lowered his head and clasped his hands: "I will obey Your Highness's orders."
The servants carefully wrapped the body, transported it in a yellow-curtained carriage sealed with silver hooks. The wheels creaked, gradually moving away.
After the Crown Prince's departure, dead leaves continued to fall abundantly in the forest.
Chu Jin turned slowly, his expression still dignified, but his fingers, hidden in his sleeves, trembled slightly.
Zhang Huaiqian approached discreetly and said in a low voice: "Your Highness, we should go now."
Chu Jin did not reply, merely gazing deeply in the direction where the Crown Prince's procession had departed, then finally nodded slightly.