CHAPTER 113 — WHEN EVEN THE DEAD OBEYED HER
A hush fell over the courtyard so complete that even the faint rustle of the winter wind seemed to retreat. Every gaze was fixed upon Tang Ke Xin, as though the entire palace had been suspended in a single breath.
And then she spoke.
"Because Imperial Concubine Ning told me."
Her voice was soft, almost gentle, yet the words struck the assembled crowd like a thunderclap. The corners of her lips lifted ever so slightly, a calm, unhurried confidence radiating from her as she allowed the sentence to settle into the stunned silence.
Shock rippled outward in waves.
Imperial Concubine Ming's face drained of colour. She stumbled back a step, her eyes darting instinctively toward the chamber door as though expecting a ghost to emerge. Her voice trembled uncontrollably.
"You—what nonsense are you spouting? Imperial Concubine Ning is dead. Dead! How could she possibly tell you anything?"
Her fear was palpable. It clung to her like a shadow.
Even the palace maids, who had been kneeling in a trembling row, stiffened visibly. Tang Ke Xin's gaze swept over them, pausing on Xiao Xiang. The girl's body had gone rigid, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and something far more telling—guilt.
Ye Lan Chen inhaled sharply.
"Xin xin… Imperial Concubine Ning didn't die?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "I—I felt no breath. She was cold. How could she still be alive?"
The Empress, who had personally checked the concubine's pulse earlier, stared at Tang Ke Xin with open astonishment. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged. She too had felt the cold stiffness of death.
Tang Ke Xin did not answer Ye Lan Chen. Instead, she continued, her tone steady and deliberate.
"Imperial Concubine Ning told me that the culprit was…"
She let the words trail off.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Xiao Xiang's reaction was immediate. Her head jerked up, her eyes bulging, her nostrils flaring, her lips trembling. She blinked rapidly, her breath coming in shallow bursts.
Fear.
Panic.
Recognition.
Tang Ke Xin had seen this reaction before—in interrogations, in courtrooms, in the eyes of those who believed themselves cornered.
The rest of the crowd watched Tang Ke Xin with curiosity, confusion, and disbelief. But none of them looked afraid.
Only Xiao Xiang.
Tang Ke Xin's certainty solidified.
She lifted her hand and pointed directly at the trembling maid.
"It was her."
A collective gasp swept through the courtyard. Heads turned sharply toward Xiao Xiang.
The girl collapsed to her knees, her voice rising in a shrill cry.
"No! No, this servant is innocent! Why would Miss Tang accuse me? I have done nothing wrong!"
Imperial Concubine Ming seized the opportunity to speak, her voice sharp and trembling.
"What proof do you have? What evidence? You cannot simply point at someone and declare them guilty!"
Tang Ke Xin turned her gaze upon the concubine, her expression composed.
"I said it clearly. Imperial Concubine Ning told me. Is that not enough?"
Imperial Concubine Ming's face twisted.
"She is dead! How could she possibly tell you anything? If she is not dead, then bring her out! Let her speak for herself!"
Her voice rose in pitch, betraying her growing panic.
Tang Ke Xin ignored her entirely. Her attention returned to Xiao Xiang, her tone cooling.
"Imperial Concubine Ning told me that before the Fourth Prince was brought into the chamber, you brought a man into Ning He Palace to violate her."
The words fell like stones into a still pond.
Xiao Xiang's body went limp. She nearly collapsed sideways, her hands clawing at the floor for support.
The crowd erupted in horrified whispers.
A palace maid…
Bringing a man…
To assault her own mistress?
It was unthinkable.
"No! No, this servant did no such thing!" Xiao Xiang shook her head violently, but her trembling grew worse. Her eyes were wide with terror, her voice cracking.
Tang Ke Xin's eyes darkened.
"Imperial Concubine Ning said the man was strong—strong enough to overpower her easily. She has been weak and drowsy for days, unable to resist. The bruises on her body were caused by him."
Xiao Xiang's mouth fell open. She stared at Tang Ke Xin as though seeing a spectre.
Tang Ke Xin continued, her voice low and precise.
"Afterwards, that man brought the Fourth Prince into the chamber and drugged him. Because he feared a long‑acting drug would leave traces, he used a short‑acting one—enough to render His Highness unconscious, but not enough to be detected later."
A murmur swept through the crowd.
Tang Ke Xin's gaze sharpened.
"When you suffocated Imperial Concubine Ning with a pillow, she struggled. In her final moments, she grabbed at you—and tore something from your clothing. After she died, you removed it from her hand."
Xiao Xiang's face turned chalk white. Her eyes bulged, her lips trembling uncontrollably.
"No… no… this servant… this servant did not…"
Her denial was weak, barely coherent.
The crowd stared at her in stunned disbelief.
Such a detail—so small, so precise—could only be known by someone who had been present.
Or someone who had deduced the truth with terrifying accuracy.
Even Ye Lan Jue, who had been watching Tang Ke Xin with a mixture of admiration and jealousy, felt a flicker of unease. Her deductions were too sharp, too exact. For a moment, even he wondered if Imperial Concubine Ning had somehow spoken.
But no.
The mastermind behind this plot would never leave such a flaw.
So how did she know?
Tang Ke Xin's voice cut through the silence again.
"The voice Xiao Ying heard earlier was not Imperial Concubine Ning's. And it could not have been the Fourth Prince's—he was unconscious. It was the man you brought in. He remained in the chamber until Xiao Ying opened the door."
The maids gasped.
Tang Ke Xin continued, her tone crisp.
"That man knows martial arts. He slipped in and out of the palace easily because the banquet drew most of the guards away."
The Emperor's expression darkened further.
Tang Ke Xin pressed on.
"You deliberately allowed Xiao Ying to see the staged scene. She was terrified. When she screamed, you entered the room and instructed the senior maid Qiu to report to the Empress. Qiu Qiu was already frightened out of her wits—she would obey anything you said."
Her eyes narrowed, cold as winter steel.
"You are not merely disloyal. You are venomous."
The Emperor's fury erupted.
"Wretched creature! You dare harm your mistress? You dare harm my son?"
He kicked Xiao Xiang with such force that she flew several feet before collapsing in a heap, unable to rise.
The Empress trembled with rage.
"Imperial Concubine Ning trusted you. She treated you well. And you repay her with betrayal? With murder?"
Xiao Ying stared at Xiao Xiang in disbelief, tears welling in her eyes.
"How could you? How could you harm the imperial concubine? She was always kind to you!"
Xiao Xiang shook her head frantically.
"No! No, this servant was wronged! Miss Tang is lying! She must be lying!"
But her voice lacked conviction. Her eyes darted wildly, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Tang Ke Xin watched her calmly.
She had seen this before—the frantic denial of someone who knew the truth had already been exposed.
And yet, beneath Xiao Xiang's terror, there was something else.
A flicker of disbelief.
As though she could not understand how Tang Ke Xin knew so much.
Tang Ke Xin's gaze sharpened.
She knew exactly why.
Because Imperial Concubine Ning had indeed told her.
Not with words.
Not with breath.
But with the silent evidence left behind.
And Tang Ke Xin had listened.
The truth was simple and merciless: Imperial Concubine Ning could not possibly have survived.
Xiao Xiang knew this better than anyone. She had ensured it herself.
And because the concubine was dead, because the dead could not rise to accuse her, Xiao Xiang clung to the only defence she had left — denial. As long as she refused to admit anything, as long as she insisted upon her innocence, there remained a sliver of hope that she might escape punishment.
Tang Ke Xin watched her with a cool, almost pitying detachment.
"Hmph. It seems you truly will not shed tears until you see the coffin." Her voice was soft, but the disdain beneath it was unmistakable. "The pillow you used to suffocate Imperial Concubine Ning is hidden in the first shelf of the wardrobe."
The words struck Xiao Xiang like a blow.
Her body stiffened violently. Her eyes widened, the terror within them deepening into something close to despair. She had hidden that pillow herself. She had wiped it clean. She had ensured no trace remained.
How could Tang Ke Xin possibly know?
Tang Ke Xin's lips curved into a faint, chilling smile — a smile that made Xiao Xiang's blood run cold.
Then, without warning, Tang Ke Xin turned toward the chamber and spoke in a clear, unhurried voice:
"Imperial Concubine Ning, would you be so kind as to bring out that pillow for us?"
The courtyard erupted into a stunned silence.
Several palace maids gasped. One of them nearly toppled over. Even the Emperor's breath caught in his throat. The Empress clutched her sleeve, her knuckles whitening. Ye Lan Chen's eyes bulged in horror.
And Ye Lan Jue…
His expression did not change, but a faint, dangerous tension rippled through him. His gaze flicked toward the chamber door, sharp and assessing, as though preparing for anything — even the impossible.
Xiao Xiang, however, reacted the most violently.
Her entire body convulsed. She scrambled backward on her knees, her hands clawing at the ground as though trying to escape. Her face drained of all colour, her lips trembling uncontrollably.
"No… no… no…" she whispered, her voice cracking. "She's dead… she's dead… she cannot…"
But Tang Ke Xin did not look at her.
Her eyes remained fixed on the chamber door, her posture calm, composed, and utterly fearless — as though she truly expected the dead concubine to rise and obey.
The silence stretched.
A cold wind swept through the courtyard, rustling the leaves, brushing past the gathered crowd like the whisper of a ghost.
And Xiao Xiang broke.
Her breath hitched. Her eyes darted wildly between Tang Ke Xin and the chamber door. Her hands shook so violently she could barely keep herself upright.
Because in that moment — in that terrible, suffocating silence — she believed it.
She believed Imperial Concubine Ning would answer.
She believed the dead would speak.
And that belief shattered what little composure she had left.