Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

"It is Prince Shou."

Three words, yet they were tempered with ice shards.

Shen Qiongju knelt beside the cradle, clutching the broken half of the sandalwood tiger in her hand. Splinters pierced her palm, tearing her skin and drawing blood. Pain. This excruciating pain crept up her arm to her head, forcibly pulling her back from the brink of collapse.

She didn't cry; tears wouldn't solve anything.

She stood up, her skirt stained with blood from the ground, a large patch of which was red.

"Prince Shou." Shen Qiongju murmured the name, her mind racing. She turned to look at Pei Zhihui, her tone unusually calm, so cold it frightened even herself.

"Of the thirty-six wards in the capital, the land deeds for twelve wards are registered under the names of eight shell companies. These eight companies ostensibly deal in silk and tea, but their owners all point to the steward of the Prince Shou's mansion." Shen Qiongju spoke rapidly and clearly. "He holds 30% of the real estate and property of Dasheng. And that includes Jiangnan."

She paused for a moment, her mind flashing through those densely packed account books.

"There are four abandoned iron mines in Jiangnan. The imperial records state that the veins are exhausted and mining has been shut down. But I have investigated the secret accounts of the canal transport. Every month, more than a dozen cargo ships with extremely deep drafts, under the guise of transporting Taihu stones, travel north from Jiangnan. Taihu stones are not valuable; what is valuable is the pig iron weighed down at the bottom of the ships."

Shen Qiongju looked at the totem on the wall and sneered.

"He pretends to be a carefree prince of a different surname, indulging in cockfighting, dog racing, and frequenting brothels. In secret, however, he is hoarding pig iron and forging weapons. He has long harbored ambitions to seize the throne. The blood-written words on this wall are not for the late emperor to see, but for you. This is a provocation, and also a declaration of war against the new dynasty."

Pei Zhihui looked at his wife. She stood in the pool of blood, her back ramrod straight. There was no fear in her eyes, only calculation and murderous intent.

It is worth noting that Prince Shou endured for a full twenty years. When the late emperor was on the throne, he was a good-for-nothing who only knew how to have fun. After the late emperor died, he revealed his true colors and took his first bite at Pei Zhihui's softest rib.

A series of hurried footsteps could be heard outside the courtyard.

Pei An stumbled into the meditation room. He knelt on one knee, the knife wound on his shoulder rolled up, the flesh turned outward, and blood stained half of his body red.

"Master," Pei An gasped for breath, "something happened in the cellar. Zhao Qiyan escaped. The remaining traces of Wei's gang's unique sleeping potion were left at the scene. All thirteen brothers guarding the cellar were killed. A single, swift stroke to the throat."

Pei Zhihui suppressed the metallic taste rising in his throat. He stepped forward and examined Pei An's wound. The knife technique was cunning, specifically targeting the tendons and veins.

The situation became extremely complicated at this moment.

"The Zhao family," Pei Zhihui uttered.

The Zhao family has inherited their noble status for generations and holds control over half of the royal secret agents in the capital.

These secret agents were not under the jurisdiction of the Embroidered Uniform Guard or the Eastern Depot; they only obeyed the orders of successive emperors. With the previous emperor's death and the new emperor being a three-year-old puppet, the Zhao family was terrified.

Zhao Qiyan was imprisoned in the cellar, and the Zhao family patriarch must have heard about it. They feared Pei Zhihui's retribution later, and they feared the entire Zhao family would be executed. To save their lives, the Zhao family chose to gamble with their lives.

The information gap was there; the Zhao family thought Pei Zhihui would go to extremes to eliminate them, so they sought allies.

Who would dare to oppose Pei Zhihui, who wields immense power at this time? Only Prince Shou, who has troops, iron, and money.

"They've joined forces." Pei Zhihui turned around and re-examined the meditation room.

He crouched down and looked at the footprints on the ground.

"Six people entered, their footsteps light and their landings silent; they were masters of internal martial arts. Song Qingyuan's martial arts were not weak, but he didn't even have a chance to draw his sword."

Pei Zhihui pointed to a scratch next to Song Qingyuan's body, "They used a soft sword. The assassins kept by the Prince of Shou's mansion are most skilled in using this kind of weapon."

He stood up and walked to the cradle.

"The cradle was overturned, but the bedding inside showed no signs of being cut by a sharp weapon. They didn't come to kill us; they came to kidnap us." Pei Zhihui looked at Shen Qiongju. "Prince Shou personally took Nian'an away."

Shen Qiongju walked over, bent down, and picked up the bedding from the ground. There was a little dust on the cotton cloth.

"This is mud from the wheels of a carriage." Shen Qiongju handed the bedding to Pei Zhihui. "They came prepared; the carriage was parked on the path behind the mountain. They took Nian'an away to blackmail us."

To put it bluntly, Prince Shou wants the throne, and the Zhao family wants a way to survive. Nian'an is their biggest bargaining chip.

Pei Zhihui began to cough. One cough after another, heart-wrenching. He covered his mouth with a handkerchief, and when he removed it, the white silk was covered in black blood.

"Seal off the city." Pei Zhihui clutched the handkerchief in his hand, his voice hoarse like a broken bellows. "Order the Nine Gates Admiral that not even a fly is allowed to escape. Fu Chuan'ang's Zhenbei Army will detach 10,000 men to take over the defense of the capital."

Pei An propped himself up and stood up: "I'll take care of it right away."

"Wait," Pei Zhihui called out to him. "Empty the imperial prison. Arrest everyone from the Prince of Shou's residence who is still in the capital. Interrogate them separately. Whoever confesses will be rewarded with ten thousand taels of gold."

Pei An accepted the order and withdrew.

Shen Qiongju looked at the corpses of Song Qingyuan and Liu Shi. Liu Shi had stayed by the cradle until her death, and had been stabbed three times in the back.

"Give them a proper burial," Shen Qiongju said softly.

Pei Zhihui walked over and pulled Shen Qiongju into his arms. His hands were cold, devoid of any warmth.

"I will find Nian'an." Pei Zhihui rested his chin on the top of her head. "I swear."

The city was locked down for three consecutive days.

A shadow of death loomed over the capital. The streets were deserted, and shops stood closed. The iron cavalry of the Northern Army patrolled day and night on the cobblestone streets, the sound of their hooves pounding on the nerves of every citizen.

In the imperial prison, blood flowed like a river.

The remaining people from Prince Shou's mansion who hadn't managed to evacuate were separated and imprisoned. The screams of agony continued day and night.

The Imperial Guards in charge of the interrogations changed batch after batch, and more than a dozen sets of torture instruments went through. Skinning, pulling out tendons, inserting bamboo skewers—every method imaginable was used.

Every day, corpses were carried out of the back gate of the imperial prison and thrown into the mass grave. Wild dogs ate them until their bellies were round.

Pei Zhihui worked tirelessly, without sleep or rest.

He sat in the armchair in the cabinet office, with a mountain of official documents and arrest reports piled up in front of him.

He hadn't slept for three days. His eyes were bloodshot and frighteningly red.

"Cough cough cough..."

A violent cough echoed in the duty room. Pei Zhihui was hunched over his desk, coughing so hard he couldn't straighten up. He clutched a vermilion brush in his hand, the tip drawing a glaring red mark on the rice paper.

He was like a ferocious beast on the verge of going out of control. Anyone who dared to approach him at this moment would be torn to shreds.

The door was pushed open.

Shen Qiongju walked in carrying a mahogany tray. On the tray was a white porcelain stew pot, steaming from it.

She wore a plain-colored dress, her hair neatly combed. For three days, she hadn't shed a single tear; she had poured all her energy into another battle.

Walking to the desk, Shen Qiongju put down the tray. Lifting the lid of the stew pot, a rich aroma of herbs wafted out.

"Drink it." Shen Qiongju handed the spoon to Pei Zhihui.

Pei Zhihui looked up at her. He took the spoon, didn't ask what kind of medicine it was, scooped up a spoonful, and put it in his mouth.

The finest century-old ginseng, paired with snow lotus from the Tianshan Mountains, was simmered over a low flame for a full four hours. This was a life-saving medicinal diet. Shen Qiongju knew that Pei Zhihui's body couldn't withstand this intensity of staying up all night and being mentally exhausted; she had to use the strongest medicine to energize him.

"Any news from the thirteen merchants?" Pei Zhihui asked, his voice regaining a little confidence after finishing half a cup of medicinal food.

Shen Qiongju took out a handkerchief and handed it to him to wipe his mouth.

"I've deployed all the black market informants from the thirteen merchant guilds." Shen Qiongju sat down on a nearby chair and took out her ledger. "Bounty posters are plastered all over the underground banks and the black market. A reward of 100,000 taels of silver will be given to anyone who provides clues. A reward of one million taels of silver will be given to anyone who finds Nian'an, plus a share of two salt fields in Jiangnan."

Interestingly, a hefty reward always attracts brave men. The black market operates on the principle of money above all else. While Prince Shou may be wealthy, Shen Qiongju's offer was enough to tempt any desperate criminal.

"What about the Zhao family?" Shen Qiongju asked.

"The Zhao family patriarch is claiming illness and staying indoors," Pei Zhihui sneered. "They think they can sever ties by staying home. Fu Chuan'ang has already surrounded the Zhao residence with his men. They've cut off their water and food. I'd like to see how long they can hold out."

Shen Qiongju opened the account book and pointed to one of the pages.

"I checked all the properties under Prince Shou's name. There are three villas, in extremely secluded locations, usually uninhabited. I've already sent people to keep an eye on them." Shen Qiongju closed the ledger. "He has a newborn baby with him, so he can't go far. The baby needs to be fed and have diapers changed. These are trivial matters that assassins can't handle. He must hire people."

Pei Zhihui looked at his wife. She was frighteningly calm. This calmness was built upon the struggle between extreme pain and reason.

"Take a break." Pei Zhihui reached out and took her hand. Her hand was very cold, and her fingertips were still trembling slightly.

"I'm not tired." Shen Qiongju gripped his hand tightly in return. "If you collapse, Nian'an will truly never come back."

This was a powerful duo working together. There was no wailing or lamentation, no mutual blame. They transformed all their grief into the sharpest blade, aiming it at the enemy's throat.

Just then, hurried footsteps came from outside the door.

Pei An pushed open the door and entered, kneeling on one knee.

"Master, Madam. There's been some activity at the black market."

Shen Qiongju suddenly stood up. The chair legs scraped against the floor with a screeching sound.

"Speak." Pei Zhihui straightened up, the bloodshot in his eyes instantly disappearing, replaced by extreme clarity.

"A black market broker from one of the thirteen merchant guilds delivered a top-secret lead," Pei An said rapidly. "On the night of the palace coup, at three-quarters past midnight, a suspicious-looking man carrying a baby girl slipped out of the city during the chaos of the changing of the guard at the city gates."

Pei Zhihui raised an eyebrow.

"Have you left the city?"

"Yes." Pei An nodded. "The man hired a carriage and also found a wet nurse. But the wet nurse was sent back halfway there."

"Where is the wet nurse?" Shen Qiongju asked urgently.

"They've already been brought back to the manor. They're waiting outside the study."

Pei Zhihui strode towards the door.

"Bring him in for questioning."

The study in the Pei residence was brightly lit.

A middle-aged woman knelt on the blue brick floor, trembling like a leaf. She was dressed in coarse linen clothes, her hair was disheveled, and her hands were tightly twisting the hem of her clothes.

This woman was the wet nurse who had been sent back. Her surname was Li, and she usually took on jobs feeding babies in the southern part of the city.

Pei Zhihui sat in a grand chair, toying with a jade thumb ring in his hand. Shen Qiongju stood beside him, her gaze fixed on Nurse Li.

"Tell me the whole story of what happened on the night of the palace coup." Pei Zhihui's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling sense of oppression.

The wet nurse was so frightened that she kowtowed repeatedly.

"My lord, spare me! I know nothing! That night, I was sleeping at home when someone knocked on the door, handed me a gold ingot, and asked me to come with them. I was greedy for money, so I got into a carriage parked at the alley entrance."

Li, the wet nurse, swallowed hard, trying to recall the details of that time.

"A young man sat in the carriage. He was dressed in noble clothes, but his face was veiled. His clothes were torn, and there was blood on his cuffs. He was holding a little girl in his arms."

Shen Qiongju stepped forward.

"What did that little girl look like? What were she wearing?"

"She was wearing... a red jacket embroidered with gold thread. She was fair-skinned and chubby, with a small red mole on her ear," Nanny Li stammered in response.

Shen Qiongju dug her nails into her palm. It was Nian'an. That little jacket, she had sewn it herself, and the red mole on her ear was also correct.

"Go on," Pei Zhihui said in a cold tone.

"That young master's way of holding the child is so clumsy." As she spoke, Li the wet nurse forgot her fear and showed a hint of disgust. "He's so flustered. He breaks out in a sweat as soon as the child cries."

Li the wet nurse gestured.

He held the child upright, her head tilting precariously to one side. The woman tried to take her, but he wouldn't let her. He protected the little girl fiercely, as if afraid she would hurt her.

What's even more amazing is that this villain is actually a novice.

"And then?" Shen Qiongju pressed.

"Later, the child got hungry and kept crying. The young master frantically searched the carriage for something. The woman said she wanted to breastfeed, but he wouldn't let her touch the child. He pulled out a water bag from his bundle, which contained warm rice water."

Li, the wet nurse, began to describe it vividly.

He held a small wooden spoon and fed the child little by little. His hands trembled like a leaf, and the rice water spilled all over the child. The child cried even harder. The young master was so anxious that he kept cursing, but he dared not curse too loudly for fear of frightening the child.

Pei Zhihui and Shen Qiongju exchanged a glance.

Prince Shou, a ruthless prince who kills without blinking an eye, is actually being so cautious around Nian'an.

"Why did he deport you?" Pei Zhihui asked, getting to the heart of the matter.

"Because the baby pooped," said the wet nurse, Li, with a helpless expression. "That young master doesn't know how to change diapers. He took off the diaper, and the baby peed all over him. His expensive clothes are completely ruined."

Li, the wet nurse, pursed her lips.

"His face turned green. But he didn't get angry; he just kicked the woman off the cart. He said he could manage on his own and didn't need her anymore. Before leaving, he threw her a gold ingot and told her to watch her mouth."

The study was so quiet you could hear the lamp wick popping.

A ruthless prince, plotting to usurp the throne, fled with a newborn girl. He wouldn't allow anyone to touch her, personally feeding her rice porridge, and even when she was urinated on, he dared not get angry.