Chapter Eight: The Scapegoat Princess Is Sentenced to Death (8)

In the next moment, Prince Lu Zhu Qin’s body underwent another strange transformation right before everyone’s eyes.

His thumbs and pinkies visibly thickened and sharpened, while the three middle fingers first fused together, then swelled and split apart again. In short, both hands were morphing into something resembling pig trotters.

Though, not exactly pig trotters—just similar enough.

At least they looked like they might be more dexterous than actual pig’s feet.

Since the quantitative and qualitative transformations were random, one hand activated the quantitative change while the other underwent qualitative change. As a result, his left “trotter” grew twice as large and thick as a normal pig’s foot, while the right one remained about the same size as a regular pig’s foot.

As for the qualitative change on the right hand that looked like a normal pig’s foot, Ding Shui couldn’t quite tell whether it became tastier or something else entirely.

Even if it did enhance strength, it probably wouldn’t amount to much.

After all, the Super Synthesis System had clearly indicated during its self-check that the degree of qualitative change was limited!

That was what was visible to the naked eye. The feet inside his socks and shoes, however, were not so easily noticed by others, but Ding Shui, the instigator of this whole ordeal, had noticed. One foot had grown larger, the other remained the same—again one quantitative change and one qualitative change.

The ratio between the two types of change was surprisingly balanced.

Having witnessed all this, Ding Shui felt a bit relieved. With Prince Lu transformed like this, he surely could no longer harm or kill anyone. A beast should at least look like a beast.

Though it felt somewhat unfair to the pigs, it was definitely better than Prince Lu being eaten alive.

Ding Shui then lost interest in watching Prince Lu’s bizarre madness and prepared to go search for the remains of the loyal followers who had been killed. This was one of the great regrets and grievances of the original Prince Lu—he felt he had grievously failed his loyal men, unable to protect their lives or even collect their bodies.

After his followers were killed, the original Prince Lu was severely beaten, wounded, and imprisoned. Even when the prince went to the capital, his loyal men had not left, so he was never able to leave the mansion again before his death.

He had no one to trust by his side.

Or rather, no one capable of being trusted.

Of course, no one dared to listen to him either.

In truth, the original Prince Lu had no idea how his followers died, whether their bodies were collected, or where their remains were buried. Therefore, Ding Shui’s first priority was to find someone who knew the truth or one of the prince’s loyal men responsible, and somehow extract from their mouths or memories the location of his followers’ remains.

At the very least, they deserved a proper burial.

While Ding Shui left to pursue this, Dong Huaide and the imperial physician Wang still had to face the now-mutated Prince Lu. At this moment, no one knew what to do next—including the guards who had just been summoned by Prince Lu. They hesitated over whether to follow his previous order to drag the imperial physician away for execution.

No matter how you looked at it, Prince Lu’s current condition was more dangerous, and perhaps the imperial physician still had some use.

“Everyone, leave the premises. Martial law is imposed on the prince’s mansion—no one is allowed to leave. Furthermore, no one is to speak of what just happened. Any leaks or rumors, be warned—your heads, and even your families’, will be at risk.”

In the end, Dong Huaide stepped forward as the steady hand, choosing first to quickly seal off the information.

There was no other choice. Prince Lu had developed blue, purple, and black spots, and his tongue had suddenly enlarged—this much could still be covered up as illness. But his hands turning into something like pig trotters, one big and one small, was impossible to explain away. If the news got out, how many rumors would spring up?

And far more speculation in private.

To be blunt, some might even seize this opportunity to attack the royal family or foment rebellion.

Since Dong Huaide had been appointed by Emperor Guangwu as the mansion’s steward, and Prince Lu was clearly incapable of making decisions or even speaking, the guards exchanged glances and tacitly agreed to follow Dong Huaide’s lead, quickly withdrawing and sealing the mansion.

No one in, no one out.

Certainly, they couldn’t just sit by. They would have to find monks, Taoist priests, or shamans from outside to try to treat or exorcise the prince.

So people would be allowed in.

But going out? That was impossible.

Dong Huaide instructed the imperial physician to continue examining Prince Lu’s condition while summoning the eunuchs responsible for delivering the decree to execute the prince’s consort, who had not yet returned to the capital.

He truly dared not make any decisions himself.

At most, he aimed to bring more doctors, monks, and priests from Zhaoan Prefecture to the mansion to attempt treatment or exorcism, and keep them from leaving while sealing off all news. Beyond that, he dared not act.

A quarter of an hour later, the eunuchs who had planned to return to the capital after the consort’s seventh-day memorial arrived at the rear chamber of the Everlasting Hall. Before they could even see Prince Lu’s current state or perform their formal greetings, Dong Huaide pulled them aside to a side chamber.

He carefully explained the situation and secretly opened a small door between the side chamber and the prince’s bedchamber, allowing them to sneak a glance at Prince Lu’s face and hands.

Unsurprisingly, they were all somewhat shaken.

“This… how could this happen? What exactly occurred? Is the prince still…”

“It’s over. How are we supposed to explain this?”

“The consort died, and now the prince has… surely not…”

“Don’t speak recklessly. Silence.”

“Enough. Now, even if we’re not grasshoppers tied on the same string, it’s close enough. If His Majesty lashes out, it won’t matter whether you’re involved in this or even belong to the prince’s mansion—you’re guilty simply by being here.”

Dong Huaide had no patience to entertain their panicked speculation about whether the prince was cursed or haunted by the consort’s vengeful spirit.

He quickly asserted control.

He pulled them into the same camp.

The eunuchs gradually calmed down, agreeing with Dong Huaide’s reasoning—they could very well be blamed for this without cause.

“So, what do you say we should do?”

“Yes, as you said, we’re all grasshoppers tied on one string. What should we do?”

Delivering a death decree was a thankless, unpleasant task that offended many people. The eunuchs sent here were already marginalized and frustrated; now this crisis made them even more anxious.

They looked to Dong Huaide helplessly, hoping he would decide and lead them away from the abyss.