Chapter 59: Shadows of the Assassination, the Imperial Mirror Reveals the Truth

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Peizhao shouldered the heavy responsibility of investigating the assassin's sneak attack. With a solemn expression, he arrived at the narrow path where the assassin had appeared.

The path was in utter chaos, with upturned earth as if silently recounting the thrill of that fateful day.

Peizhao's gaze was sharp, sweeping across the surroundings like a hawk. He first squatted down to carefully examine the footprints on the ground. The footprints varied in depth and pointed in chaotic directions; some still bore fresh traces of mud, looking like panicked marks left behind in a desperate escape.

Following the direction of the footprints, he tracked all the way to the edge of the grass, gently parting the dense thickets, leaving no trace unchecked.

Finally, deep within the grass, a flash of brightness caught his attention. He pinched a fragment of cloth from it.

The texture of the fragment was exceptionally fine and smooth to the touch. It was embroidered with delicate and intricate patterns, fine and uniform in line with meticulous stitches. Clearly, it came from the hands of a palace embroiderer, or was crafted by a skilled artisan heavily commissioned by some wealthy household. This was undoubtedly a crucial clue.

Peizhao carefully put away the cloth fragment, stood up, and began his investigation along the assassin's likely escape route.

Leading his subordinates, he shuttled through the main streets and small alleys, inquiring door-to-door. At every household, he knocked politely yet solemnly. Once the master opened the door, he would patiently explain his purpose and carefully observe any changes in their expression.

An elderly night watchman, upon hearing Peizhao's inquiry, saw a flash of memory spark in his turbid eyes. Rubbing his temples with withered fingers, he slowly said:

"My lord, this old servant was on duty last night and indeed caught sight of a few dark figures flashing past. Those fellows walked in a hurry and looked like martial artists. Among them, the silhouette of one individual, this old servant felt, looked somewhat like a government official. Moreover, listening to their accent, it sounded like that of the capital. This old servant has rarely heard that tone around these parts."

A shock rippled through Peizhao's heart. A capital accent and a figure resembling a government official—the conspiracy behind this was likely far from simple.

Daring not to delay in the slightest, he immediately decided to hurry back to the capital.

Peizhao summoned his men at once, spurring their horses to embark on the return journey at top speed.

Along the way, his brows remained tightly knitted, his mind constantly pondering various possible scenarios.

If the assassin was connected to the capital's government officials, who was pulling the strings behind the scenes? And why target the Crown Princess?

Peizhao's expression was stern, his gaze filled with decisiveness and sharpness. He suddenly realized that a mastermind must certainly lurk behind this assassin ambush.

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Meanwhile, Prime Minister Gao wielded overwhelming power in the court and harbored boundless ambitions, while Zhao Sese held ill intentions driven by her jealousy toward Xiaofeng. The suspicion falling upon these two individuals was extremely heavy.

Thus, he decisively issued orders to his subordinates:

"Go, arrange capable men to keep strict watch at the entrance of Prime Minister Gao's residence. Do not let any detail of anyone entering or leaving slip by, and report even the slightest disturbance to me promptly. Also, the gates of the General's Mansion must likewise be heavily guarded, keeping a close eye on the demeanor, speech, and whereabouts of every person coming and going."

His subordinates acknowledged the command in unison and swiftly rushed to their respective posts.

Outside Prime Minister Gao's mansion, the men arranged by Peizhao cleverly concealed themselves in surrounding corners and shadows. Dressed in dark martial attire, they blended seamlessly with the gloom, staring at the mansion's gates with torches for eyes.

Some hid inside the teahouse across the street, seemingly sipping tea leisurely while their ears remained constantly alert to the surrounding movements; others lurked atop the large roadside trees, using dense foliage to shield their forms and monitoring everything at the gates from a commanding height.

At the entrance of Zhao Sese's estate, the guards likewise dared not slacken in the least.

Some pretended to be passersby lingering nearby, while others disguised themselves as peddlers hawking wares by the street, yet their eyes never once left that vermilion lacquer gate.

Whenever a servant came out for purchases or a visitor called at the door, they would observe closely and unobtrusively, quietly committing every detail to memory, awaiting Peizhao's arrival so they could provide the most detailed and accurate information, hoping thereby to uncover the hidden mastermind attempting to harm Xiaofeng, bring the truth to light, and restore peace to the palace and everyone.

Days passed by, and their covert vigil was long and agonizing, yet Peizhao maintained an unwavering level of focus.

Finally, on a seemingly ordinary afternoon, the unusual behavior of a guard inside the estate aroused Peizhao's vigilance.

The guard looked flustered and darted his eyes about, glancing around constantly as he slipped out of the General's Mansion's back door with hurried steps, his chest bulging as if concealing something.

Peizhao decisively signaled his men to follow, maintaining a careful distance to avoid detection.

The guard walked hurriedly ahead, turning his head from time to time to check behind him, while Peizhao and his men skillfully used crowds and architectural cover to tail him closely. Taking winding turns, the guard finally entered a secluded alley.

Peizhao and his group slowed their pace and drew near quietly, only to see the guard meeting with a mysterious figure wearing a bamboo hat and wrapped entirely in a black robe.

The guard nervously handed over the contents of his chest to the mysterious figure, who accepted them and began speaking in low whispers.

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Peizhao signaled his subordinates to scatter and form a perimeter, while he crept closer himself, trying not to make the slightest sound.

He vaguely caught snippets of conversation concerning the assassin and Xiaofeng.

As it turned out, all of this had been directed by Zhao Sese. Consumed by jealousy and resentment toward Xiaofeng, Zhao Sese had warped these feelings into an evil obsession within her heart.

She felt that Li Chengyin's heart was eternally occupied by Xiaofeng, and no matter how much effort she expended or how she tried to please him, she could never truly enter the depths of Li Chengyin's heart.

Thus, she hatched a malicious scheme, meticulously planning this assassin ambush in an attempt to eliminate Xiaofeng through the assassin's hands, believing that this would make Li Chengyin entirely her own and grant her a monopoly over his affection and attention.

Upon mastering irrefutable evidence, Peizhao felt a heart full of shock and anger.

He knew all too well that once this matter was brought to light, it would inevitably stir up monstrous waves within the palace, and various factions would certainly seize the opportunity to scheme and plot against one another.

Knowing the gravity of the situation and daring not delay for even a moment, Peizhao immediately seized his brush and wrote furiously. He detailed the clues regarding the assassin's attack gathered over recent days—including the unique cloth fragment found at the scene, the night watchman's mention of a suspected capital accent and official-like silhouette, and the deployment of guards at the gates of Prime Minister Gao's and Zhao Sese's residences—writing them out meticulously on paper.

With a solemn expression, he then summoned his most elite courier, solemnly handing over the critical missive packed with vital information, and instructed him in a stern tone:

"This is a matter of utmost importance concerning the safety of His Highness and the stability of the court. You must deliver it directly into His Highness's hands at eight-hundred-li expedited speed, without the slightest error."

The courier acknowledged the order and sprang onto his horse in a single fluid motion. The steed let out a long neigh, hoisted its hooves, and galloped away like an arrow released from a bow.

The horse's hooves kicked up swirls of dust, striking out a series of urgent and crisp sounds on the empty road, sounding much like the tolling of an emergency warning bell.

With an athletic posture, the courier leaned low over the horse's back, his gaze fixed firmly ahead as he let the howling wind rush past his ears. Within his heart, there burned a single conviction: to deliver the letter to the Crown Prince as swiftly as possible.

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