Chapter 156 Murder of the Prince?
With a single command, the Princesss Residence's servants rushed in like wolves.
For a time, the Hu Residence was in utter chaos.
Hu Bai slumped to the ground, wailing loudly.
"They won't let us live!"
...In the evening, Minister Hu hummed a tune as he returned home from court.
Stepping into his own living room, he froze.
Looking around, his home was bare, so empty that even a rat would leave in tears.
Minister Hu looked puzzled, rubbing his eyes.
"Hey, that's strange, how did I come to the wrong door today? Whose unfinished house is this?"
...At the same time, in Consort Shu's bedchamber, the atmosphere was as heavy as ice.
Zhao Jing, Consort Shu, and several trusted Palace Maids all wore worried expressions.
"Bang!"
Consort Shu slammed her palm on the table, gritting her teeth as she spoke.
"His Majesty actually agreed to establish the Imperial Academy! This Shen Yulou is truly a scourge!
Even the Seventh Princess, who rarely returns to the palace, has to go back! Jing'er, you certainly won't be spared!"
Before, they had tried every means to put Shen Yulou to death. Now, if Zhao Jing were to enter the Imperial Academy, wouldn't that be like a sheep entering a tiger's den, to be slaughtered at will?
"We must act before the Imperial Academy is established!"
A ruthless glint flashed in Consort Shu's eyes, "I have already sent someone to invite Shadowless Xiao, who ranks second on the fengyun ranking.
Li Hui and Shen Yulou are as thick as thieves, and Song Hu never leaves his side. Ordinary assassins can't get close to him; we must invite a top master!"
The group huddled together, lowering their voices, plotting a grand gift to be presented at Shen Yulou's wedding...That day.
Late at night, as Shen Yulou was about to rest, Green, Consort Su's personal Palace Maid, rushed in, looking flustered.
"Lord Shen, our empress asked this servant to tell you that there's a painter in the palace recently who keeps secretly inquiring about Prince Chen's news and has even painted Prince Chen's portrait!"
Shen Yulou jolted upright.
Prince Chen?
His deceased father-in-law?
Shen Yulou's brows furrowed instantly.
That name was a major taboo in the palace.
Prince Chen had once vied with Emperor Ren for the throne and was ultimately killed by Emperor Ren's machinations.
Emperor Ren's reputation for fratricide still circulated among the common people after all these years.
However, this matter had nothing to do with the Princess. When these events occurred, the Princess was still in her infancy; how could she remember?
After Emperor Ren ascended the throne, to quell these rumors, he publicly announced that Prince Chen had died of illness.
He then posthumously conferred titles upon Prince Chen and buried him lavishly in the Imperial Mausoleum.
Although many people knew that this series of actions was to cover up his past deeds, no one dared to bring it up, pretending that such a person never existed.
If not for Shen Yulou's recent rise to prominence, perhaps no one would even pay attention to Princess Siyi.
Now, at this critical juncture, someone painting Prince Chen's portrait was truly abnormal.
Even the Princesss Residence didn't have a portrait of Prince Chen, and the Princess herself hadn't commissioned a painting of her own father, so why would others paint him?
A warning bell rang in Shen Yulou's heart, and an ominous premonition surged within him.
His eyes narrowed, and he said,
"Song Hu, quietly go find the Eighth Prince, don't let anyone discover you."
Song Hu was startled, "Where is the Eighth Prince?"
"Most likely the Imperial Library. Don't alarm anyone. After you bring the Eighth Prince, go to the Imperial Household Department and apprehend the painter Bi Yingming!"
...Song Hu's efficiency was remarkable.
One could say it was like 'Song Hu Express Delivery'.
In no time, he had "invited" the person over.
Eighth Prince Zhao Lü looked impatient, still holding a copy of the "Classic of Poetry" in his hand, walking with a swagger.
"What's going on, Mr. Shen, such an emergency! This Official was just reading a crucial part! 'Fair lady, a gentleman's good match,' I was just figuring out how to use this line in my letter to Miss Suyin!"
Meanwhile, the painter Bi Yingming didn't receive such good treatment.
He was blindfolded with a black hood, tied up in ropes, thrown on the ground like a pig waiting to be slaughtered, with a rag stuffed in his mouth, having been knocked unconscious by Song Hu.
"This Official has something fun for you."
Shen Yulou leaned close to the Eighth Prince's ear, whispering a few mysterious words.
Zhao Lü was startled at first, then his eyes widened, and he slapped his thigh, excitedly rubbing his hands together.
"Holy moly! A live-action three kingdoms kill?! This sounds fun! Mr., you be the Loyal Minister, I'll be the Ruler, and let him be the rebel?"
Shen Yulou snapped his fingers: "Your Highness is clever, truly a sleeping dragon."
With that, he pulled out a blood packet from his embrace—a special wolfberry juice he had the Imperial Heirs Residence prepare. He squeezed a little onto Zhao Lü's lips and smeared a large patch on his chest.
"Your Highness, lie down, remember to hold your breath and don't break character."
"Don't worry, Mr., This Official is a professional!"
Zhao Lü lay on the ground, kicked his legs, and stuck out his tongue, his acting exaggerated to just the right degree.
If this were Hengdian, he'd be at least a two hundred and fifty yuan a day extra.
Everything was ready.
Only then did Shen Yulou slowly walk over and rip off the black cloth from Bi Yingming's head.
A basin of cold water poured down, and Bi Yingming shivered awake.
He opened his eyes, scared out of his wits. Just as he regained his sight, before he could even clearly see what was happening, he heard Shen Yulou's chilling voice.
"How dare you, Bi Yingming, conspire to murder an Imperial Heir! Hammering an Imperial Heir to death is a crime punishable by extermination of nine generations of your family, do you know your crime?!"
Shen Yulou's furious roar instantly sobered Bi Yingming.
He followed Shen Yulou's gaze to the ground and instantly his pupils dilated in shock!
He saw His Highness the Eighth Prince lying stiffly on the ground, "bleeding" from the corner of his mouth, his chest stained crimson, clearly beyond saving!
Bi Yingming was so terrified his hair stood on end, his voice trembling, his face ashen, "No...it wasn't me! Lord Shen, I've been wronged!"
Shen Yulou sneered, slammed the armrest, and angrily exclaimed.
"With both human and material evidence present, how dare you still quibble?!"
He gave Song Hu a look.
Song Hu expressionlessly picked up a pre-prepared iron hammer from the corner of the wall, walked over to Bi Yingming, and roughly shoved it into his waistband.
"This is the murder weapon you used to assassinate the Imperial Heir!"
Bi Yingming was dumbfounded; the heavy weapon in his crotch was something that could cost his entire family their lives!
Shen Yulou suddenly slapped the table, roaring once more.
"How dare you, Bi Yingming! In broad daylight, hammering an Imperial Heir to death, your crime is monstrous! Song Hu, execute him on the spot!"
"Yes!"
With a clang.
Song Hu drew his saber, its gleaming blade reflecting a cold, icy light that made one's cheeks tingle.
The sound of metal scraping the scabbard instantly shattered Bi Yingming's psychological defenses.
A foul-smelling liquid flowed down his pant leg, spreading into a puddle on the ground.
He had wet himself.
"Mercy! Lord Shen, have mercy!" Bi Yingming cried, tears and snot flowing, kowtowing like pounding garlic, "It really wasn't me!"
Shen Yulou saw that the time was right, then slowly squatted down and patted his face.
"Do you want to die or live? If you want to live, This Official might be able to show you a clear path."
Bi Yingming clung to Shen Yulou's leg like a drowning man grasping at a final straw, his face streaked with tears and snot.
"I want to live! I want to live! Please, my lord, save me!"
"Tell me, who told you to paint Prince Chen's portrait?"
Bi Yingming stiffened, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
At his hesitation, Song Hu, understanding, swiftly raised the long saber in his hand with a "whoosh."
Like an executioner at a public market, with a swift downward stroke, Bi Yingming's head would fall.
"It's Consort Shu! It's Consort Shu!"
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