Chapter Eleven: The Scapegoat Princess Is Sentenced to Death (11)

The news of Prince Lu’s condition spread rapidly throughout the manor, not because everyone feared death, but precisely because some feared it so much that they went to great lengths to disseminate the information, hoping to rely on the principle of “the law does not punish the many.” Rumors had even begun to circulate outside the manor. After all, those inside the manor knew they could silence everyone to cover up the matter, but if the entire county or even just the surrounding region became aware, it would be much safer. Even Emperor Guangwu, harsh as he was, could not possibly silence an entire county.

The stark contrast between Steward Dong’s desperate attempts to seal off the news and some of the lower servants’ eagerness to spread it stemmed from their differing perspectives and social statuses. For Steward Dong and his circle, keeping the matter secret and preserving the royal family’s dignity was their only chance of survival. But for the manor’s lower servants, who might be killed at any time to maintain secrecy, the more people who knew, the safer they would be, as secrecy would become impossible or unnecessary. Some had already saved their lives this way in the past. It was no surprise that some continued to act similarly now.

Though night had fallen, Steward Dong’s trusted aides quickly set out, swiftly gathering information on the well-known nearby Buddhist temples and Taoist shrines. They promptly dispatched messengers to invite the abbots and heads of these establishments. Naturally, the true reason for the summons could not be openly stated—willing or not, it was irrelevant. Within an hour, they had successfully summoned four abbots and three Taoist priests, all from the more prosperous temples and shrines nearby. As for the lower-tier shamans and spirit mediums, they were deemed beneath notice and not even worth fetching.

The four monks and three Taoists were nervously ushered into the Hall of Immortality, still unaware of Prince Lu’s current condition or why they had been summoned. Before they could see him, the kitchen steward hurried in with Qian San, the man responsible for dividing whole pigs and sheep, to report that a pig had gone missing. In the past, even such a minor disturbance would have earned them a severe reprimand from Steward Dong, even just an hour and a half earlier. But now, the situation was clearly different.

At once, Steward Dong linked the disappearance of the pig to Prince Lu’s transformation—the prince’s hands and feet had become pig’s trotters. Though there was no concrete evidence connecting the two, his intuition told him such a coincidence was impossible; the two must be related.

“Since the manor is under lockdown, no one may leave and only authorized personnel may enter. You two, find out immediately where the missing pig went. Was it stolen? I want answers within the hour.”

If it could be confirmed that the pig had not been stolen but simply vanished, it would indirectly prove that Prince Lu’s condition was linked to the missing pig or to whoever caused the pig’s disappearance. At least then, there would be a direction for investigation rather than blindly searching.

After dismissing the kitchen steward and Qian San with a few words, Steward Dong hurried to meet the summoned monks and Taoists. He delivered a brief but stern message:

“Prince Lu has fallen ill—or rather, he has been possessed. We do not know if you have the ability, but regardless, you must perform an exorcism. If you succeed and the prince recovers, there will be generous rewards. If you are incompetent charlatans, you will remain here in the manor, awaiting the emperor’s judgment.”

The monks and Taoists all broke out in cold sweat at this. The prince had been possessed and they were being asked to exorcise him—no matter how one saw it, it was bad luck. Success would still require discretion, and their lives might not be safe. Failure would be ruin. One monk even tried to back out, hoping to leave before seeing the prince. But before he could speak, a guard watching them drew his sword, scaring him back into silence.

“Once inside, stay calm and don’t startle the prince. You understand…” Steward Dong’s words were meant to calm them, but truly, he feared the prince’s appearance might terrify them. If they showed fear or disgust, the prince would remember when he recovered—and his small-mindedness would ensure no mercy.

They had not allowed the four imperial eunuchs to see the prince directly for the same reason.

The monks and Taoists, lacking genuine demon-banishing power, were skilled in rhetoric, reading expressions, and basic psychology—skills necessary to maintain their reputations. They all understood the gravity and thanked Steward Dong for his advice.

Led by Steward Dong, they entered the prince’s private chamber in the Hall of Immortality, where they found the royal physician Wang sitting beside the bed, a worried look on his face. The sight of Prince Lu—so altered that the word “monster” nearly escaped their lips—made even the seasoned monks and Taoists gasp.

Even though they had mentally prepared themselves, none could keep their composure. After a moment’s struggle for calm, they exchanged glances filled with despair. None had ever witnessed possession so severe that a man’s hands and feet turned into pig’s trotters.

They cursed silently within, thinking: “This is death. This is the end. We’re doomed.”

“Is there any way to exorcise this? Should we examine him closely? If you need anything—black dog’s blood or whatever—just say the word. I will ensure it’s ready immediately,” Steward Dong said hopefully. If they truly could exorcise the prince, the matter would become much easier, and his own life would be far safer. It would be a win for all.

“Who is this?” the monk Yuanming asked, sidestepping any promises by changing the subject to the elderly man sitting by the bed looking worried. As outsiders, they naturally did not know the royal physician.

“That is the manor’s physician, surnamed Wang. He confirmed that the prince is not ill in the usual sense. You can ask him directly about the prince’s physical condition,” Steward Dong replied.

Several monks and Taoists glanced at Wang with a mix of curiosity and resentment. If Wang could not cure the prince, so be it; but blaming the possession on them dragged them into trouble. The prince looked possessed, but they lacked the power to exorcise him. Not wanting to blame themselves, they focused their dissatisfaction on others instead.