SCE - 8

Chapter 8: Feet Off the Ground, and IQ Reclaims the High Ground...

Le Jiu felt that something was amiss, but since he never contradicted His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, he simply nodded.

Currently, Yang Xuanse remained the sole breakthrough in the Minister of War’s murder case. He was also the only reason the Crown Prince had managed to keep jurisdiction over the investigation. 

Without Yang Xuanse, the court officials would be even more convinced of the Prince's incompetence in solving the case. Therefore, regardless of whether Yang Xuanse was the murderer or not, he could not die.

The Crown Prince first sent Le Jiu to the Eastern Palace to fetch a physician. Inviting someone from the Imperial Academy of Medicine was tricky; it would easily invite accusations of him monopolizing power. 

Besides, the physicians in the Eastern Palace were highly skilled and could attend to the patient immediately. It was best to send someone over right away to stabilize Yang Xuanse's condition.

Even if he were truly on the brink of death, they had to keep him hanging by a thread.

By the time the Crown Prince arrived at the Dali Court and visited the prison, the physician reported, "To answer Your Highness, Young Master Yang caught a chill, which developed into a fever. I have administered acupuncture to bring the fever down. After taking a few doses of medicine, he will be fine."

The Crown Prince paused, surprised. "He's fine?"

The physician understood the Prince's current mood. He had been rushed over so urgently that it seemed the patient was already on a one-way trip to the underworld, only to find upon arrival that it was just a common cold. It was simply that Yang Xuanse had a frail constitution, making his symptoms appear far more severe.

"I wouldn't say he is completely fine. The prison is simply too dark, damp, and freezing. If he cannot leave this environment, I fear it might develop into a severe illness," the physician noted with reservation. After all, an untreated fever could still be fatal, and Le Jiu had mentioned that this witness was crucial to the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince cast a look of deep displeasure at Yang Xuanse, who was curled up on the bed. Factoring in the pressure from all sides and the current situation, he said, "Leave it be for now, as long as he doesn't die. The most important thing is to crack the case first."

Because of this single remark from the Crown Prince, Yang Xuanse had no choice but to continue suffering in prison. Later on, this would become the Crown Prince's greatest regret.

When Yang Xuanse woke up again, it was already evening. Dizzy from the fever, he found himself lying in the same spot, though with an extra blanket draped over him.

His throat burned as if it were smoking. Yang Xuanse knew he had caught a cold. As a modern man, he certainly didn't share the archaic habit of hiding sickness from doctors. 

He forced himself up to call for help, only to discover a tray beside him holding a water pitcher, a bowl, and a pitch-black medicine pot.

They were all still steaming. It must be the jailer brother who got this for me, Yang Xuanse thought to himself. What a great guy. He poured himself some water and finally managed to soothe the "razor blades" in his throat.

Just then, the jailer walked over carrying dinner. A look of delight crossed his face. "Hey, you're awake! The physician's medicine really did the trick."

"I haven't taken the medicine yet, but thank you, brother, for getting a physician for me." Yang Xuanse showed a grateful expression. The fever had left his entire body so weak that he truly couldn't stand up to properly thank the man.

The jailer paused. Setting down the food, he said, "It's a small matter. You're an important witness; we can't have anything happening to you. By the way, you did take the medicine—the physician forced it down your throat while you were unconscious, otherwise you wouldn't have woken up. As for that pot there, take it after you eat. Oh, and here, I brought this for you."

The jailer looked around to ensure no one was watching before tossing an oil-paper packet into Yang Xuanse's lap. The moment it landed, a sour tang hit the air, making Yang Xuanse's mouth water.

Yang Xuanse opened it to find dried plums.

The jailer whispered, "My wife packed them for me. I'm sharing some with you, otherwise you might not be able to stomach that medicine."

Perhaps in the eyes of the jailers, Yang Xuanse was already deemed a frail, fragile young master. He could only express his gratitude with a helpless smile.

After leaving the cell block, the jailer glanced back and muttered to himself, "How strange. Why wouldn't the Crown Prince let me tell the truth? It was clearly His Highness who invited the physician. Sigh, I don't get it. Taking credit for someone else's favor feels awfully uncomfortable."

As a college student, Yang Xuanse might lack the energy for many things, but never when it came to eating. Once the jailer left, he struggled to shuffle over and finish his rice. However, he couldn't finish the side dishes. 

He was utterly defeated; sick and starving as he was, he simply couldn't stomach those pickled vegetables. Were they so overwhelmingly salty because the cook had robbed a salt merchant?

After eating, Yang Xuanse poured out the medicine and waited for it to cool.

There were no windows here, preventing him from even seeing the moon. Perhaps because of his illness, his emotions reached a breaking point. He wanted to go home.

All those stories about time-traveling to become an invincible Gary Stu protagonist were lies. An ordinary person transmigrating into a feudal dynasty without any cheat abilities could only tuck their tail between their legs and try to survive. If they were unlucky, they wouldn't last a single day.

It wasn't that Yang Xuanse couldn't endure these hardships, but falling ill was terrifying. He suddenly realized that in ancient times, if you got sick, you could only rely on doctors. 

Yet, the best doctors in the nation were either wandering the land healing people at random, or trapped in the imperial palace acting like mutes.

Just how much astronomical luck would it take for a wandering genius doctor to randomly stumble upon him?

In ancient times, a sheer number of people died from a simple cold and fever. Yang Xuanse was currently burning up, his head swimming. He felt like he might burn to death and return to the modern world before he even made it to his execution.

Or maybe, burning to death just meant dying. Not only would he fail to return to the modern era, but he would have suffered through days of misery in ancient times for absolutely nothing. Nobody should be this unlucky.

Feeling thoroughly miserable, Yang Xuanse downed the traditional medicine in one breath. Afterward, he noticed his mouth felt pleasantly numb, and the dried tangerine peel mixed inside actually tasted quite good. Indignantly, he drank another bowl.

Cold medicine naturally possessed a soporific effect. Half-reclining, Yang Xuanse fell asleep while nibbling on the dried plums.

Waking up the next day, Yang Xuanse felt slightly less miserable, and his mind had cleared up a bit. He remembered to ask the jailer who brought his food, "Brother, has the Crown Prince been here? Did he say when I can leave? It's just one locked-room murder case; surely he hasn't still not solved it?"

The jailer was scared half to death by his words. "Shh, shh, shh! Brother, at the feet of the Emperor, you must not speak such insolence! If those words get out, even if you're innocent, you could be convicted of gross disrespect. Just stay put and be patient."

Looking at the jailer's expression, it didn't seem like nothing was wrong. Yang Xuanse crawled over and grabbed the hem of the jailer's clothes. "Brother, even if I'm going to die, at least let me die knowing why! What exactly is going on?"

Having interacted with him for a few days, the jailer knew Yang Xuanse was just a pampered young master who had never worked a day in his life and couldn't tell one crop from another. He couldn't help but feel a flash of pity. 

"Sigh... lean in a bit closer. Word on the street is that His Majesty has spoken. If His Royal Highness the Crown Prince cannot solve the case within seven days, your case will be transferred to the Ministry of Justice. The Minister of Justice is... a maternal relative of the Emperor. In short, he's at odds with the Crown Prince."

In other words, because the Crown Prince knew Yang Xuanse was an outsider, he had shown him some leniency, which was why the jailers hadn't treated him too harshly these past few days. 

But if he fell into the hands of the Ministry of Justice, even just to spite the Crown Prince, an innocent man like him could be tortured into a false confession. 

Ultimately, to tie things up neatly on paper, they would make him the scapegoat for the Minister of War's murder.

Yang Xuanse closed his eyes. For the first time, he realized his brain could still spin this fast—almost on par with when he took his college entrance exams.

After a long moment, he released the jailer's clothes and said, "Brother, can you contact Le Jiu? The Crown Prince's attendant."

The jailer was confused. "Ah? Do you have something you want to say to His Royal Highness? I can report it directly to the Lord Warden. His Highness is a good man; he will definitely come to hear your clues."

"No, no need to bother the Crown Prince. He's busy solving the case. I just have a favor to ask Le Jiu. By the way, you said seven days. How many days have I slept? How many days are left?" Having been in the dark for so long, Yang Xuanse had lost track of day and night.

"Well, alright, I'll see if I can find Guard Le Jiu, but I can't guarantee he'll come. As for the date, you've been sleeping for almost three days. His Majesty gave the order on the day you fell ill. So, as of today, there are four and a half days left," the jailer said, calculating the time.

Hearing this timeline, Yang Xuanse's vision went dark. He felt as if he could see the dead end of his future right before his very eyes. He instantly lost all hope. "Four and a half days... I still need to try. What if... Anyway, I'm counting on you, brother."

Looking at Yang Xuanse's demeanor, the jailer figured he probably knew he was going to die and wanted to leave a message for his family. But oddly enough, why look for Le Jiu? He could just as easily pass on a message himself.

The jailer realized there were many things he simply didn't understand. However, thinking that Yang Xuanse was about to meet a tragic end, he still asked a close colleague to pass a message to Le Jiu while the Crown Prince was handling cases at the Dali Court after the morning court assembly.

Le Jiu generally never left the Crown Prince's side. When he received the message that Yang Xuanse wanted to see him, he immediately reported it to the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince was utterly sick of this damned suspect. He slammed his calligraphy brush down. "What's wrong with him now? Doesn't a useless suspect know that staying obedient is the only way to stay alive?"

"Perhaps he's scaring himself into thinking he's going to die, so he wants to ask me to send something to his family? That request would indeed be a bit harder for a jailer to fulfill," Le Jiu guessed.

"And what, can you sail the seas or fly to the heavens?" the Crown Prince retorted.

Le Jiu blanked for a moment, remembering that Yang Xuanse's hometown was a distant overseas nation—a place entirely unreachable.

The Crown Prince thought about it carefully. "No, he's not looking for you; he's looking for me. Go and see what he wants."

It was an abrupt, seemingly baseless conclusion. Le Jiu found himself sharing the exact same doubt as the jailer. Why are all of you people so baffling?

However, a master's orders had to be obeyed. Le Jiu called over some of his brothers to protect the Crown Prince and headed to the prison early to see Yang Xuanse.

Having not bathed or washed for days, on top of being sick, Yang Xuanse was as scruffy as a beggar, looking no different from the rest of the prisoners.

Le Jiu walked up to the outside of the iron bars and saw Yang Xuanse huddled motionless under his blanket. "Hey, I'm here. Weren't you looking for me?"

Hearing the noise, Yang Xuanse drowsily lifted his head. He had fallen asleep again. Struggling to sit up, he said, "You're here?"

"What exactly do you want from me? I'm very busy," Le Jiu asked in displeasure.

"I have a few questions I'd like to ask you. Don't worry, they are all things you can answer," Yang Xuanse said tiredly.

Le Jiu hesitated. Initially, he didn't want to humor him, but then he remembered the Crown Prince's rapidly approaching deadline. He said, "Ask first. I'll see if I can answer."

Yang Xuanse let out a soft chuckle. He knew Le Jiu would agree, if only to scrounge up one more possibility for the Crown Prince. "Listen well. First, who was the person who initially reported the case to the Dali Court and notified you to go to the inn? Second, did you follow the entire process of all the homicides at the inn from start to finish? Third, who was the very first person to discover the corpse and realize a murder had taken place?"

These three questions were exceedingly simple and certainly did not cross any restricted lines. Le Jiu's face was full of confusion. "Don't you already know the answers to these? The inn attendant; yes, I followed everything; and the inn attendant."

Hearing this, Yang Xuanse violently waved his hands and shook his head, making himself dizzy in the process. "No, no, no, I'm not talking about the Minister of War's case. I'm talking about the other case. Is it possible that you guys have completely flipped the nature of the cases? Because of the identities of the two victims, you subconsciously established a presumed motive for their cases, when it actually should have been the nature of the Minister of War's case!"