Upon seeing who had arrived, the servants carrying the coffin immediately fell to their knees, burying their heads against the ground, not daring to look up. They didn't even dare to put the coffin down, leaving its four corners suspended in midair.
Lin Zhiyue stood before them. Her gaze swept from the kneeling servants to Minister Su's pale face, and then from the coffin studded with seven copper nails to Madam Su's trembling shoulders. When she spoke, her voice was half an octave lower than usual, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet of the night. “Minister Su, you had best give me an explanation. Who is in this coffin?”
Minister Su's lips trembled, his Adam's apple bobbing several times before a dry, raspy voice finally squeezed out of his throat. “It... it is an old nanny... an old nanny of the manor... She passed away last night... I was afraid of disturbing others, which is why... why I am burying her in the dead of night...”
Lin Zhiyue stared at his moving lips without looking away. She tilted her head slightly, her tone flat but leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. “Do you think I believe that?”
Minister Su's lips parted a few more times, but no sound came out this time.
He stood there, his hands trembling slightly inside his sleeves, looking like an empty shell that had yet to collapse after all its support had been stripped away.
Beside him, Madam Su was completely speechless. She leaned against the doorframe with her head bowed, her eyes fixed on the ground between herself and Lin Zhiyue, seemingly not daring to look up again.
Qi Yan stood half a step behind Lin Zhiyue, the sword wrapped in its dark cloth scabbard hanging by his side.
His silence alone carried more weight than any threat.
Standing at the door of the side room, sweat trickled down Minister Su's temples, glistening under the light of the oil lamp.
He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to struggle a bit more. But Qi Yan had already drawn his sword, nudging it forward an inch, the tip of the blade radiating a chilling cold.
“If Minister Su is unwilling to speak, I do not mind searching your soul,” Qi Yan's voice said, flat and devoid of any emotion in the night. “If I am not mistaken, this coffin is overflowing with resentful energy, and the person inside has already become a vengeful spirit. What evil deeds you have committed, Minister Su, I will know with a single search.”
Lin Zhiyue stood beside him and added in a timely manner, “Do you know, Minister Su, that those who undergo soul searching end up simple-minded at best, and dead at worst?” As soon as she said this, the strength in Minister Su's knees seemed to be drained, and his body sagged before he barely managed to support himself.
Minister Su's face turned from pale to a dull, ashen gray, resembling paper that had been soaked in water.
His lips trembled as his gaze darted back and forth between Qi Yan's sword tip and Lin Zhiyue. Finally, looking as though his last supporting bone had been removed, his posture collapsed. His knees buckled, nearly bringing him to his knees, but he forced himself to stand.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and broken. “I... I will speak. I will tell you everything.”
Suddenly, Madam Su lunged forward, grabbing Minister Su's sleeve, her voice shrill and urgent. “My Lord! You cannot say it! If you do, we are—”
Minister Su violently shook off her hand.
The force was so great that Madam Su staggered back a couple of steps and crashed into a nearby corridor pillar with a dull thud.
Minister Su spun around to glare at her, his eyes bloodshot, his voice suddenly rising a register. “You wretched woman! We are in this mess entirely because of you! How dare you try to stop me—”
With that, he raised his hand and slapped Madam Su across the face. He didn't hold back his strength; the blow whipped her head to the side, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. She clutched her face and leaned against the pillar, not speaking another word.
Lin Zhiyue watched this unfold with cold eyes, neither stopping them nor urging them on.
She waited for Minister Su's breathing to steady a bit before she spoke, her first question cutting straight to the owner of the coffin. “Who is the person in the coffin?”
Minister Su kept his head bowed, his voice hoarse and dry, as if being dragged out bit by bit from the depths of his throat. “...My daughter, Su Jinyu.”
“How did Su Jinyu die?” Lin Zhiyue's voice was not loud, but every word fell as clearly as stones dropping onto a still water surface. “And do not tell me she died of excessive grief. Since I am asking you, I already have an idea.”
Minister Su's shoulders slumped another inch. After a moment of silence, he spoke in an even lower voice. “She was murdered in a conspiracy between Her Highness the Noble Consort and my wife.”
After saying this, his fingers hanging by his side curled slightly, and he offered no further elaboration.
Hearing this, Lin Zhiyue's fingers tightened around her parasol for a brief moment. Then, she raised her hand and struck with the parasol. The ribs of the parasol brushed past Minister Su's shoulder, landing precisely on his upper arm with a firm, measured force.
The blow made Minister Su stagger half a step forward, leaving a distinct crease on the fabric of his shoulder, but he did not try to dodge.
“Shifting all the blame onto your wife and daughters—what a bold man you are, Minister Su,” Lin Zhiyue sneered.
Seeing her anger, Qi Yan silently nudged his sword tip forward another fraction.
Qi Yan looked at him, his voice neither loud nor soft. “The method to lock her soul and drain her luck—who gave it to you?”
Minister Su's eyes flickered. Knowing that nothing could be hidden any longer, he resigned himself to his fate. “It was Her Highness the Noble Consort. She said there was a way to lock all of Jinyu's fortune within the Su Manor to ensure that everything would go smoothly for us. At the time... I was momentarily muddled... so I agreed...”
Lin Zhiyue did not press further on this issue. Her next question was even more unexpected than the first two. “When Heir Xie broke off his engagement with Su Jinyu back then, what was the actual reason?”
He wiped away a bead of sweat, looking as though he hadn't expected Lin Zhiyue to ask about this. His Adam's apple bobbed once before he spoke. “Back then... Heir Xie and Qing'er were having a secret affair. He was originally supposed to marry Jinyu, but because he had become intimately involved with Qing'er in private, he was no longer willing to fulfill the marriage contract. After Jinyu found out about this... she was severely traumatized.”
After listening to this, Lin Zhiyue immediately asked her next question. “Then why did Heir Xie die? What do you know about it?”
Minister Su's pupils contracted slightly. He bowed his head and remained silent for a long time, so long that Lin Zhiyue thought he had no intention of answering. Finally, he spoke. “I truly do not know... about Heir Xie's death. I only know that he had been waiting for Qing'er, but she entered the palace despite all objections, and Heir Xie refused to marry anyone else. Later on... no one knows how he suddenly died. I truly have absolutely no knowledge of this matter.”
After saying this, Minister Su slid down against the corridor pillar and sat on the ground, keeping his head low, speaking no more.
Madam Su leaned against the pillar on the other side, covering her face in silence. The lamplight cast their shadows—one sitting, one standing—into long, stretched silhouettes on the ground, blending with the dark shadow of the coffin until it was almost impossible to tell where one outline ended and the other began.
Standing in place, Lin Zhiyue turned the words over in her mind. All arrows pointed to the same person, and all the scattered fragments were winding and merging along the very same crack.
She opened her parasol, its dark red canopy reflecting a strange, eerie red and black under the moonlight.
Qi Yan's sword had already been drawn back from Minister Su's throat, its tip now pointing toward the ground.
The night wind swept over the courtyard wall, carrying the faint, intermittent tinkling of the copper bells from the eaves.
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