Chapter 529: Chapter 188 Mediocrity
Jasmine blossoms filled over half of the window sill, the branches lush and fragrant. Amid the green leaves, a piercing aroma wafted through, diluting the medicinal smell in the room by degrees.
In the garden outside Qi Yutai’s door, Qi Qing stood with hands clasped behind his back.
The setting sun dipped into the pond, casting a shallow red hue across the water. Glittering ripples emerged, like flickering flames burning beneath the surface, a riot of dying embers.
Qi Qing watched silently.
Nearly ten days had passed since the fire at Fengle Building.
In these ten days, the court had been ceaselessly embroiled in disputes. Yuan Yao pressed relentlessly, and the Crown Prince’s men had come several times—Emperor Liang Ming’s attitude was ambiguous, and he had grown impatient.
As the court’s unrest continued each on their own terms, he feigned illness and stayed within the family estate, day after day, keeping watch over Qi Yutai.
Footsteps approached from behind. The old steward crossed the courtyard and came up behind Qi Qing, whispering, "Master, the matter with the Cold Food Powder has been settled."
"Good."
The day after the fire at Fengle Building, someone accused Qi Yutai of consuming medicinal powder there, and Yuan Yao seized the opportunity to pressure the Emperor in front of all the officials for a thorough investigation.
Countless nobles’ sons secretly took Cold Food Powder, and as long as they kept it hidden well, nobody would relentlessly pursue them.
But now was different.
Qi Qing had found a scapegoat to take the blame. Someone else was responsible for consuming the powder, and of course, it had nothing to do with Qi Yutai.
With that, the matter was considered settled.
The old steward said, "The accusation against the young master shortly after the incident was too coincidental. Master, could this have been a trap set by the Third Prince from the start?"
Qi Qing shook his head.
Yuan Yao, impulsive by nature, relied on the Emperor’s favor to be stubbornly self-willed. If he intended to set a trap, he wouldn’t use such a roundabout method. Moreover, the matter of Qi Yutai taking Cold Food Powder could be said to be based on rumors, but Qi Yutai’s old ailment... apart from the Qi Family, only Cui Min was aware.
Unless Cui Min was ready to throw away his life, he would never reveal this information willingly.
"Let’s go," Qi Qing turned around, "I will go see him."
Qi Yutai’s room was tightly closed.
When he fell ill, he would angrily cry out, loudly berating all the servants around him. In just a few short days, the servants who attended to him had been replaced many times.
The steward opened the room, and there knelt a maid at the door, blood still streaming down her forehead. The floor was strewn with shattered porcelain, and two other servants stood tensely by the bed, watching over the person lying on it.
The old steward gave a knowing look to the bleeding maid, who, pressing on her wound, retreated. The two servants stepped aside upon Qi Qing’s arrival. He walked slowly forward and parted the hanging curtains.
On the rosewood bed inlaid with lotus designs, Qi Yutai huddled in a corner, wrapped haphazardly in a thin blanket, staring vainly at the fragrance pouches hanging above him,
Qi Qing’s hand gripping the corner of the curtains tightened.
Shu Hui had acted like this as well when she fell ill.
To others, her words were completely inaudible, or she would bow her head and whisper to imaginary people. Yutai had suffered an episode years ago, but it had not been as severe as now. His reckless and inattentive manner made one fear that perhaps he would never regain clarity again.
Qi Yutai, nestled in the corner, seemingly finally heard the noise and moved his eyes. His gaze slowly shifted towards the two who had entered the room.
"Father," he suddenly called out.
Qi Qing remained silent for a moment before taking his hand, "Yutai."
The withered, aged hand and the young, pale hand held one another, their union starkly portraying a desolate, lifeless air.
Qi Yutai said softly, "Dad, someone is trying to harm me."
In these past days, Qi Yutai would occasionally mutter this phrase.
Qi Qing held his hand as a father would his still-young child, asking in a gentle voice, "Yutai, tell Dad, who is trying to harm you?"
The affectionate tone seemed to embolden Qi Yutai slightly; his expression briefly lost in thought: "I saw the Light-vented..."
"Where did you see the Light-vented?"
"At Fengle Building, on the wall, a large painting, filled with Light-vented birds, so many of them—"
Qi Qing’s expression shifted.
The old steward looked up in surprise.
Ever since Qi Yutai was brought back home, he had been delirious, always claiming to have seen Light-vented birds.
Perhaps the fire at Fengle Building had, in his panicked state, triggered memories of the great fire at Mangming Village Yang Family, bringing up old issues with the Light-vented birds.
But today was the first time he mentioned a "painting" in Fengle Building.
After the fire at Fengle Building, the Qi Family also suspected the blaze was no accident and sent people to investigate deeply within the building. However, the top floor where Qi Yutai was found was precisely where the fire had started. Those who went to put out the fire on the lower floors met with futility as the upper ones were engulfed; the night’s inferno left nothing behind, not a trace or a clue.
Nothing was found.
But...
Inside Fengle Building, facing the walls of guest rooms, there indeed once hung silk paintings.
Qi Qing leaned closer, his tone growing ever more gentle, "Tell Dad, Yutai, what did that painting look like?"