Yan Zheng had been quite close with the Rong family.

Grand Tutor Rong enjoyed playing chess, but Yan Xun was terrible at it, so whenever he visited his father-in-law, he always brought Yan Zheng along.

In the capital, very few could play evenly against Grand Tutor Rong, and Yan Zheng happened to be one of them.

Thus, over time, they grew familiar…

Yet no one expected that Grand Tutor Rong would be among those who stabbed him in the back.

A look of weariness flickered across Yan Zheng’s brow.

Meng Yang hated seeing his lord wear such an expression and hurriedly said, “This matter has already been reported to the madam. She believes Grand Tutor Rong is inherently upright—perhaps he was manipulated without realizing it.”

Yan Zheng’s gaze sharpened. “She truly said that?”

Meng Yang nodded vigorously. Yan Zheng recalled the way the candlelight had illuminated her face earlier and murmured, “She always sees the best in people…”

The room fell into silence.

Yan Zheng finally spoke. “Enough. If the Rong family was truly involved, I’ll spare their lives out of respect for my elder brother.”

His tone no longer carried that world-weary indifference.

Meng Yang exhaled in relief. “What about the Marquis of Pingjing? Last year, one of those three scoundrels escaped, but the other two are in our custody. Should we…?”

“Send them back.”

Meng Yang was puzzled.

A mocking smile touched Yan Zheng’s lips. “Isn’t his son the Vice Minister of Shuntian Prefecture? Hand them over to him and see how he handles it.”

Meng Yang understood immediately. “My lord wants his son to investigate him? But what if he shields his father?”

“Shield him?”

Yan Zheng repeated the words with dark amusement. A chill ran down Meng Yang’s spine as his lord uttered each syllable with ruthless precision. “If he shields him, his son is finished. If he doesn’t, his father goes to the execution ground. Su Nantian loves putting on a show—let’s see how he performs when his own son takes the stage.”

The next day, the two scoundrels who had once tormented Ajiao were delivered to Shuntian Prefecture to “confess.”

The officials, hearing the case involved the Yan Family, scrambled to pass it to the Ministry of Justice.

Only Su Tingyun insisted on handling it himself, declaring that cases within Shuntian’s jurisdiction should be resolved there.

“Miss, you should’ve seen it! Young Master Su stood firm at the gates of Shuntian Prefecture, declaring, ‘If officials keep passing the buck, how will the truth ever come to light?’ The crowd cheered for him!”

Yulu spoke highly of Su Tingyun, praising him enthusiastically.

But Chu Ruoyan’s heart was heavy.

Su Tingyun was an upright gentleman—his actions were no surprise.

Yet what he didn’t know was that the mastermind behind it all was his own father. Once he uncovered the truth, what choice would he make?

Whether he chose justice over family or shielded his father, he would spend the rest of his life haunted by the guilt of condemning his own flesh and blood.

Whoever orchestrated this was aiming to destroy him from within.

“Miss, what are you thinking about?”

Chu Ruoyan sighed. “Just how meaningless all these grudges and grievances are.”

“Eh?” Yulu didn’t understand.

Chu Ruoyan added, “Your Young Master Su… is about to suffer greatly.”

Her words came true within three days.

Su Tingyun’s investigation moved swiftly—from the scoundrels to the Wangshuang Tower, and finally, to his own father.

In the Su family ancestral hall, the Marquis of Pingjing, Su Nantian, pointed at the rows of ancestral tablets and roared, “Have you lost your mind? You want me to turn myself in?”

Su Tingyun knelt before him. “Father, the crime has already been committed. I beg you to stop before it’s too late!”

Su Nantian scoffed. “Stop? When Yan Xu killed your second uncle, did he stop? Avenging my brother is only right—who are you to stand in my way?”

Su Tingyun’s face twisted in anguish, as if he no longer had the strength to speak.

If his father had only sought revenge against Yan Xu, that would have been one thing. But this involved the entire Yan army—a hundred thousand lives!

A hundred thousand souls, slaughtered for his father’s personal vendetta!

Every time Su Tingyun thought of it, he wished he had died among them rather than endure this torment.

Seeing his silence, Su Nantian mistook it for agreement. “Tingyun, you know if this comes out, I’m a dead man. But the culprits are in your hands—kill them, and this ends here. We can pretend none of it ever happened.”

“How can it not have happened? A hundred thousand people are dead! And General Yan’s entire family!” Su Tingyun shouted hoarsely.

Su Nantian bellowed, “So you’d rather force your own father to his death?!”

Su Tingyun fell silent. After a long pause, he said dully, “Don’t worry, Father. I know what to do.”

Just as Su Nantian thought his son had finally sided with him, Su Tingyun submitted a memorial to the emperor.

It detailed the entire incident—but named himself as the culprit.

When the emperor read it, he remained silent for a long time.

Eunuch Yin Shun ventured cautiously, “Does Your Majesty doubt Young Master Su’s involvement?”

The emperor waved a hand. “You know Tingyun’s character. The only one he’d sacrifice himself to protect is his father.”

Yin Shun realized the emperor already understood everything. But his hesitation meant there were concerns.

“Your Majesty is worried about the Empress Dowager?”

The emperor glanced at him. “You’re sharp. Su Nantian committed treason over a petty grudge—he deserves death! But he’s the only male heir left in Mother’s family. If he’s executed for treason, the entire Su line will be wiped out!”

The Empress Dowager was from the Su family. After Su Nanhe’s execution, Su Nantian was her only nephew.

If he died, the Su bloodline would end!

“What should be done? The Yan Family won’t accept this lightly…”

The emperor rubbed his temples irritably. “Enough. Suppress this for now. Go to the Marquis of Pingjing on my behalf and warn him to stay out of trouble!”

When the news reached Yan Zheng, he crushed the teacup in his hand.

Shards cut into his palm, drawing blood. Chu Ruoyan quickly pressed a handkerchief to the wound. “Marquis, don’t act rashly. The emperor only said to delay, not dismiss the matter entirely—”

“How will he handle it? Sending some old eunuch to scold Su Nantian and call it done?” Meng Yang fumed. “We fought and bled on the front lines—a hundred thousand lives! And in this damned emperor’s eyes, they’re worth less than a cousin?”

“Meng Yang! We’re in the Cao residence!” Chu Ruoyan snapped.

Meng Yang huffed and turned away.

Sighing, she clasped Yan Zheng’s hand. “Marquis, we can settle accounts with the Marquis of Pingjing later. Right now, you must focus on recovering.”

Chief Physician Zhang had warned that his injuries couldn’t withstand further strain—neither physical nor emotional.

But how could anyone remain calm in such a situation?

A trickle of blood seeped from Yan Zheng’s lips. Chu Ruoyan’s heart lurched as he spoke. “Meng Yang, inform them I accept his terms—”

Before he could finish, Chu Ruoyan struck the back of his neck.

Yan Zheng collapsed forward, unconscious. Meng Yang caught him. “Madam! What are you doing?!”

Before she could explain, a servant from the Cao family rushed in, announcing Steward Fang’s arrival.

The two exchanged a glance.

The old steward burst in, barely sparing a glance at Yan Zheng before gasping, “Madam, you must return to the General’s Manor at once! The Old Dowager—she’s convening the ancestral hall to disown the Third Young Master!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep