CHAPTER FORTY — TOO SHOCKING
Tang Ke Xin's eyes narrowed to slits. Under such circumstances, Xiao Cui could not possibly lie. Her instinctive answer—"I don't know who killed Qiu Ju"—meant precisely that. She truly did not know.
Which meant only one thing:
Someone else had killed Qiu Ju, and Xiao Cui had merely been instructed to frame her.
Tang Ke Xin's mind moved swiftly. She had already examined the corpse. The fatal wound was on the forehead, inflicted by the blood‑stained stone lying beside the body. Judging from the depth and angle of the injury, the victim had been struck at least three times.
The woman's clothing was dishevelled, bearing faint traces of a struggle.
Tang Ke Xin had been very near the rock garden at the time. Even if she had been distracted by her earlier encounter with Ye Lan Jue, she would have noticed a violent struggle. It was impossible for such a commotion to escape her senses.
Xiao Cui had been placed here deliberately, arriving before her—but even she had not seen the killer.
There was only one explanation.
The murderer possessed formidable martial skill—swift, silent, and deadly.
A true expert would never need to bludgeon a palace maid repeatedly with a stone. Nor would he allow her the chance to struggle. The entire scene had been staged—constructed to resemble a crude killing committed by a weak woman.
Even the Board of Justice would find no flaw in such a carefully crafted tableau.
The mastermind behind this was terrifyingly meticulous.
If Tang Ke Xin had not extracted the truth from Xiao Cui today, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
Her innocence was now proven—but the rest was beyond her reach.
This was palace intrigue.
A place where people were swallowed whole without leaving bones behind.
If she could avoid being entangled, she would.
She had no desire to die without understanding why.
"Your Majesty, this humble girl has finished her questions," Tang Ke Xin said, turning to the Emperor with a faint, composed smile.
"Very well," the Emperor replied, finally recovering from his astonishment. His gaze lingered on her, filled with a shock he could not conceal.
Three simple questions—repeated with precision—and she had unravelled the truth.
It looked effortless, but he knew it was anything but.
Every word, every pause, every shift in tone had been perfectly controlled.
To read a person's mind so deftly…
How could a girl who had only just recovered from illness possess such skill?
He stared at her, dark emotions flickering in his eyes.
Yet Tang Ke Xin merely smiled—pure, gentle, without the slightest hint of sharpness. A smile so soft it seemed incapable of deception.
The Emperor blinked.
Was it truly a coincidence?
The Crown Prince's lips tightened. A cold glint flashed in his shadowed eyes.
Ye Lan Jue's lips curved faintly—an unfathomable, dangerous smile.
This woman… her abilities were far from ordinary.
And she hid them well.
Tang Ke Xin noticed the Emperor's expression, and the astonished gazes of the crowd. She knew she had drawn too much attention.
This was precisely what she wished to avoid.
She had no desire to stand out.
No desire to be the first to attract the court's scrutiny.
But what was done was done.
One could not hide the truth once it had been revealed.
The highest form of concealment was not to hide the truth—
but to make the truth indistinguishable from the truth.
"Wretched servant! How dare you frame Miss Tang!" Imperial Concubine Ming suddenly thundered.
"Th‑this servant deserves death," Xiao Cui stammered, trembling violently. "When I arrived, Qiu Ju was already dead. I… I was frightened. I wanted to leave, but…"
Her voice shook uncontrollably.
Tang Ke Xin stepped forward and crouched before her. Without warning, she took Xiao Cui's wrist and pressed her fingers to her pulse.
"Miss Tang…?" Xiao Cui gasped, eyes widening in terror. After what had just happened, she feared Tang Ke Xin more than anyone else present.
The crowd stared, bewildered.
What was she doing now?
"Don't mind me. Continue speaking," Tang Ke Xin said gently, smiling like an innocent child.
But as she leaned closer, she caught a faint, unusual scent on Xiao Cui's body. A fragrance reminiscent of flowers—yet not quite floral. Subtle, elusive, and unfamiliar.
She had sensed it earlier from afar, but now she confirmed it.
Xiao Cui swallowed hard and continued, "I… I saw Qiu Ju dead and panicked. Then Miss Tang arrived, and I feared others would think I killed her. So… I tried to push the blame onto Miss Tang."
"You're finished?" Tang Ke Xin asked softly.
"Yes… yes, I'm done."
Tang Ke Xin nodded.
Then her smile vanished.
Her expression sharpened, becoming cold and clinical.
"A person's normal pulse rate is three or four beats per second," she said calmly. "Just now, yours reached eight. That indicates extreme nervousness. When someone tries to recall the truth, their eyes move to the upper left. When someone fabricates a sound or image—when they lie—their eyes move to the upper right. While you were speaking, your eyes shifted to the upper right four times. Therefore… you are lying."
Her tone was professional, precise, and utterly incomprehensible to everyone present.
Which was exactly what she intended.
Xiao Cui collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Her face drained of colour, her body trembling uncontrollably.
"N‑no! I'm not lying!" she cried, her voice cracking.
The crowd stared at Tang Ke Xin in stunned silence.
They understood none of her explanation—except the final, devastating conclusion:
"So, you are lying."
Even without understanding the logic, they felt the weight of her words.
The maid was terrified.
The truth was undeniable.
All eyes turned to Tang Ke Xin—some shocked, some awed, some quietly admiring.
But before anyone could speak—
Something happened that none of them expected.