In the main chambers of the Shen household, red candles flickered, illuminating dreams of exquisite pleasure.
Elsewhere, Wang Enze was shrouded in gloom.
He toiled in his study until past midnight, unwilling to sleep.
His wife, growing anxious, sent several messengers to urge him to rest.
The commotion eventually grew significant enough to wake Wang Cheng Yi, who had already retired.
Upon hearing of Wang Enze's state, he surmised it was due to the unresolved matters concerning Kong Shan. He then donned his robe and summoned his son to the study.
The father and son conversed by candlelight.
Wang Cheng Yi asked, "Ze'er, what is this? It's a cold night; why aren't you resting soundly, causing such a stir?"
Wang Enze glanced outside at the deep, cold night and couldn't help but feel a touch of blame towards his wife.
He chided her for not resting properly on such a cold night, instead causing such a disturbance that it woke his father and mother.
"Don't blame your wife, the Fu clan. She means well. Since it's like this, let's father and son have a chat," Wang Cheng Yi said.
In the lamplight, his features were sharp and handsome, and he was in his prime.
He had always been patient with his intelligent, legitimate second son.
He often felt he was born at the wrong time, and he hoped his second son would surpass him and go even further.
"Father, all matters concerning Kong Shan have been finalized. It's just that I haven't decided yet whether to submit the case files."
Wang Cheng Yi said calmly, "The court appears peaceful on the surface, but internally, the struggle between the two factions is intensifying.
The Crown Prince has made several moves already. The Duan Prince is weak; strike when the time is right."
This was the second time Wang Cheng Yi had cautioned Wang Enze to strike when the time was right.
Wang Enze recounted how he had drawn Shen Yun into the affair, initially believing it would provide an additional escape route, only to find that reality was different.
Wang Enze sighed, explaining the reason for his previous decisiveness and current hesitation:
"That Shen Yun is as slippery as an eel. This matter might still fall upon my shoulders."
Wang Cheng Yi, who saw things much more clearly than Wang Enze, stated:
"As far as I know, he is a disciple of Mr. Gu. Mr. Gu has always been aligned with the Crown Prince, so there's no need to worry about him. He won't sabotage this."
Wang Enze breathed a sigh of relief.
He had thought the same, but he was always cautious, fearing he might make a mistake.
With his father's words, his sleepless night was not entirely in vain.
"Bang, bang, bang..." The drumbeats of the fifth watch sounded from outside.
Father and son exchanged smiles. Since sleep was impossible today, they might as well quickly change into their court attire and head to the palace.
On the eleventh day of the twelfth lunar month, the capital had already seen two snowfalls.
It was now the thawing season, and it was frigid. The ministers, rising early, were bundled up, appearing as round as balls.
Their original physiques were no longer discernible.
The military officials, accustomed to years of marching and riding, were invigorated by their strong constitution, and their condition was noticeably better than that of the civil officials.
Consequently, when the two groups met, though no words were exchanged,
the civil officials still perceived a subtle, almost imperceptible disdain from the military officials.
Among these men, however, there was one exception: Shen Yun.
While everyone else was bundled up like balls, he alone wore his fifth-rank official robe, which accentuated his tall, straight figure without a hint of bulkiness.
Some, misunderstanding, assumed he was deliberately dressed lightly for appearance and spoke sarcastically:
"Tsk, tsk, if I recall correctly, Scholar Shen was the top scholar in the imperial examinations. Why is he competing with Tang the third-ranked scholar for beauty?"
This remark was a jab at Shen Yun for being vain and choosing to endure the cold by dressing lightly. The crowd erupted in laughter.
Shen Yun paid no mind, merely sweeping his gaze over everyone present, nodding lightly, and then walking past with his head held high under their scrutiny.
Everyone pointed at him, wanting to say something but unable to articulate it.
However, Xu Shijie, the Minister of Revenue, understood the reason.
In fact, he also possessed such an item.
It was a gift from Shen Yun and his wife.
He had worn it today as well, but because his wife was unaware of how warm his down coat was, she had still dressed him in thick, padded garments, thus turning him into a ball too.
However, he was now so warm that he wished to shed his clothes.
He thought that before long, they would all understand and be like him.
Today's court session was intensely debated.
First, Wang Enze directly presented the case files of the Kong Shan incident.
The confessions within mentioned many individuals, but without specific names.
However, based on the detailed descriptions in the testimonies, everyone could vaguely guess who was who.
The most obvious was the heir of the Marquis of Dingbian, which had already been widely circulated and was nothing new.
But this time, the testimonies also contained some information directly related to the Crown Prince's lineage.
Lately, the Crown Prince had felt he was simply having a run of bad luck.
He had made several moves to deal with the Duan Prince, all of which seemed effective.
Yet, after being dealt with, the opponent hadn't even spared him a glance.
He was still busily engaged in his own affairs within his residence.
Meanwhile, his reputation among the common people waned with each passing day.
The most frequent rumor was that he was not the current Emperor's biological son,
but rather a charlatan from Kong Shan.
Some palace staff who had left the palace long ago testified to this.
Hearing it so often, Liang Xinran himself began to doubt his own identity.
He truly didn't resemble Emperor Xingzhao much.
Emperor Xingzhao had long eyes, while his were almond-shaped. Emperor Xingzhao's nose bridge was not high, but his was very prominent.
Emperor Xingzhao's eyebrows had been thick and dense when he was young.
But his were sparse; they were the ugliest and most unsatisfactory feature on his entire face.
He desperately wanted to enter the palace and ask his mother if he was, as the people whispered privately in the capital, not a true prince of the imperial bloodline.
He had thought of asking countless times, only to suppress the urge just as many.
Zhao Xiaohua had told him that if he didn't ask, it would remain just a rumor, and falsehoods couldn't become truth.
But if he were to ask, and the matter were to spread, it would be a done deal.
After all, even he himself doubted his lineage; how could others be convinced?
However, these were not his greatest concerns.
He could convince himself not to care about others' opinions.
What he feared was the old man on the dragon throne believing it.
If he believed it, his fate would be precarious.
Perhaps the incident of the deposed crown prince from years ago would be re-enacted in the court.
Except this time, it would be him in place of his elder brother!
No, he absolutely would not tolerate such a thing happening.
The position of Crown Prince could only be his, and he alone would be the future ruler of the Great Liang Dynasty.
Holding this conviction, Liang Xinran spoke his first words at court today.
"Kong Shan is deeply sinful; this son requests that he be sentenced to death by lingering death."
Emperor Xingzhao's aged face instantly became stern.
He had not been unaware of the rumors circulating outside.
But he knew very well whether Liang Xinran was his blood descendant.
Therefore, he did not think much of the request and nodded, saying, "Approved!"
At Wumen Gate, Kong Shan was publicly executed. The execution was carried out by a designated jailer from the Imperial Guard, Cao Xing, who specialized in torture methods.
He was responsible for administering punishment to those imprisoned in the Imperial Guard's Jinyi Prison.
He possessed considerable expertise in the art of torture.
Before his appointment, he had been summoned by the Commander of the Imperial Guard for a private lecture.
He was instructed to perform the cuts meticulously, without any perfunctory actions, lest he fail the Crown Prince's trust.
Upon hearing that it was the Crown Prince's directive, Cao Xing became energized.
He approached Kong Shan, who was disfigured and bound tightly,
first offered greetings to Kong Shan on behalf of the Commander,
and then began to wield his knife.
With a flick of his wrist, each sharp cry pierced the sky, drawing a multitude of curious onlookers.
With another cut, Kong Shan, in extreme pain, suddenly cursed loudly.
"Crown Prince, you are my seed! You are unfilial, you are a patricide..."
"Crown Prince, you wish to silence me..."
"Crown Prince, you are not of royal blood, you impostor..."
Kong Shan's words, filled with blood and tears, were like an outpouring of grief, shouted with all his might.
He yelled all sorts of treasonous accusations.
The executioner, Cao Xing, wished he could stab him in a vital point and end his life with a single blow.
But at that crucial moment, he remembered the words of his superior.
He could not disappoint the Crown Prince.
So, one shouted, and the other calmly cut.
The crowd of onlookers grew larger, and Kong Shan's voice became increasingly shrill.
But the words that spread from his mouth had already reignited a small climax in the capital.
"I didn't expect this to be true."
"Of course, my husband heard it firsthand at the palace gates."
"Heavens, then how can this Crown Prince..."
"Hush, be quiet, you're courting death."
...
The people murmured amongst themselves, halting at the critical juncture.
This, however, only made listeners more eager to hear more, and when retelling, they couldn't help but embellish.
This news, as if it had grown wings, soared throughout the capital.
Liang Xinran, seated in a nearby teahouse, received the news immediately.
He ordered someone to inquire. Under his strong pressure, the eunuch conveyed Kong Shan's words. Enraged, Liang Xinran smashed the table.
He rushed downstairs, sped to Wumen Gate, and without a second thought, snatched Cao Xing's knife and repeatedly plunged it into Kong Shan's vital points.
"Ah..." With a sharp cry, the silver monk, who had wreaked havoc in the circles of capital's noblewomen for over twenty years, finally met his bitter end in the northwest.