The Cross-Dressing Legend Is Excessively Beautiful - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Behind Song Ci lies a massive intelligence network and assassin organization—The Dark Night.

When night falls, it becomes The Dark Night’s slaughterhouse.

It is said that The Dark Night is ubiquitous and all-pervading. Even the sleep-talk of a minister at midnight, or a casual jest shared between the bedsheets, is known to them in perfect detail. It is highly likely that an inconspicuous page boy or maid in one’s own manor, a beggar on the street, or a passerby brushing shoulders with you is a member of The Dark Night.

If the Black Armor Army is the weapon Song Ci wields in the light, then The Dark Night is the set of wings that helps the tiger commit its atrocities.

No one knows exactly how many people have died at the hands of The Dark Night.

Xiao Hezi glanced around his surroundings, appearing terrified that someone might be eavesdropping in the shadows.

Jing Jianhua stared at Xiao Hezi quietly. Seeing his fearful expression, he naturally understood what the servant was afraid of.

He unhurriedly picked up the chess pieces from the table and placed them into the colored glass jars, sneering, “Prime Minister Song’s prestige spreads far and wide. It is not surprising that you are afraid.”

He Qing’s (Xiao Hezi) heart tightened instantly. He knew his master had always been wary of Song Ci. His behavior just now—bolstering the enemy’s prestige while diminishing their own—had likely provoked the Crown Prince.

The “Blood-Robed Prime Minister” was terrifying, but he was a distant threat. The moody and unpredictable Crown Prince, however, was the true master who held his life and honor in his hands.

Xiao Hezi hurriedly knelt on the ground, forcing a smile as he said with a trembling voice, “Please appease your anger, Your Highness. Please appease your anger.”

“Where is the intelligence?” Jing Jianhua asked.

Xiao Hezi’s eyes brightened, knowing that the previous matter had been put behind them. He poured out the information like beans from a jar: “In accordance with Your Highness’s orders, General Chen sent men to secretly investigate the death of the Governor of Zhengzhou. This is the information General Chen obtained. As Your Highness expected, the shadow of The Dark Night is indeed behind this.”

As he spoke, Xiao Hezi pulled a report from his sleeve and handed it to Jing Jianhua.

Jing Jianhua took the folder, and after reading it, tossed it into the charcoal brazier. Only after watching the final corner of the report burn to ashes did he withdraw his gaze and signal He Qing to continue.

Xiao Hezi bowed his waist, keeping his head low as he spoke: “Although the people behind this wiped the scene clean and left no conclusive evidence, based on the reports from our informants, the general scope can be narrowed down to Bingzhou.”

At this point, he lowered his head even further. “It is our uselessness; we have pursued this for so many years and yet have failed to uncover the truth.”

Jing Jianhua picked up the last white piece on the chessboard and tossed it into the jar. “The opponent is a wily old fox who acts with extreme caution. It is not entirely your fault. However, without rules, there can be no order. Those who performed poorly shall go to the Punishment Hall tomorrow to receive their discipline.”

The chess piece landed in the jar, spinning with a clatter-clatter sound.

Xiao Hezi broke into a cold sweat. Hearing that he was to go “tomorrow” to be punished, he felt an involuntary sense of relief. There is deep knowledge involved in the art of punishment; going tomorrow meant that he would at least survive.

“Bingzhou…” Jing Jianhua gazed toward the southeast. That was precisely Song Ci’s place of origin.

Song Ci came from a humble family, later placed first in the Imperial Examinations (the Zhuangyuan), and married Lady Chu, the legitimate daughter of the Grand Preceptor. He possessed a wealth of talent himself, and with the support of his wife’s powerful family, he earned the deep trust of the Emperor.

To go from a mere commoner to the Prime Minister of a nation—such a journey could be described as nothing short of legendary.

Such a man could be described as nothing short of formidable.

However, Song Ci’s prominence was too great; the people knew only of the Prime Minister and not of the Imperial Family. This was by no means a good thing.

Jing Jianhua stared at the chessboard before him, a sharp light flashing in his eyes.

No matter how powerful a tiger is, once it has a weakness, it will turn into a sickly cat.

“Song Ci’s weakness… what could it be?”