Just then, the woman who had brewed the poisoned tea entered the room, her eyes wide with terror. "Young Lord, I saw someone in the kitchen that night—Lord Lui was there, acting strangely. I was so frightened I nearly lost my head!"

Cheng Yi's anger flared, but this time his fury was laced with a pained confusion. "What are you saying? Are you trying to pin this on my father?"

Lulei and Tishui exchanged grim looks that confirmed their suspicions. Lulei stepped forward, her tone measured yet forceful. "Tell us—did you see anything else?"

The servant's trembling voice faltered. "He carried a small bag... I couldn't make out what was in it, but he was dropping something into the tea leaves. I recall it was about a month ago."

Lulei's face darkened with understanding. Without another word, she turned sharply and strode out, her determination echoing in every step.

Cheng Yi sank back to his knees, his spirit as shattered as the silence around him, while Tian Ke remained by his side, silently guarding his grief-stricken charge.

Elsewhere, Tishui and the dignified man entered the guest room where Jiang lay motionless. Slowly, as if emerging from a deep sleep, Jiang's eyes fluttered open. His gaze was distant—lost in a world of pain and fading memories.

"Ba..." Tishui murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Jiang managed a weak smile, though sorrow shadowed his eyes. "Your sister... how fares she?"

"She's resting," Tishui replied quietly, his lie barely covering the anguish burning within him. A harsh cough seized Jiang; each ragged breath was a reminder of his frailty.

"Cheng Yi is a good boy," Jiang whispered, struggling with each word. "Tishui, take care of him... Though his father—" he paused, bitterness softening his tone, "—is a bastard."

Before Tishui could interject, a silent man at Jiang's side broke the moment. "Minister of Works, choose your words carefully. He remains the Minister of Rites."

Jiang's smile wavered. "If the Emperor so decrees, then let it be. Still, I wish I had ended that child's life for driving my daughter to madness..."

Tishui knelt, his voice cracking with sorrow. "Ba... Your Majesty is here."

Jiang turned slowly, avoiding Tishui's pleading gaze. In a near-whisper, laden with unbearable grief, he continued, "He is? Tell him to behead that wretch and bury him with my daughter. That man—he murdered his own father, all because the love he craved never returned... and now my daughter pays the price." Each word fell heavy, a hammer on his broken heart.

Nearby, the Emperor—who had been silently watching—sighed deeply before seating himself beside Jiang. His sorrow was palpable, yet beneath it shimmered the burden of duty and the weight of a kingdom's despair. "I will see justice done for your daughter—and for you. You have served me well, and your loss pains me deeply."

Jiang's fragile smile returned, tinged with finality. "If death is justice, then let it fall on Hao Jian."

Slowly, the Emperor rose, his measured steps echoing in the stillness as he departed. Tishui remained, lost in thought amid the lingering grief.

Later, while still wrestling with his inner torment, the Emperor's gaze fell upon Yun Yuhua. In one swift, almost imperceptible motion, he drew his sword and leveled it at her. "Who are you?" he demanded, his tone sharp as shattered glass, eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and reluctant determination.

Yun Yuhua met his intense stare. The charged silence between them vibrated with unspoken truths, the air thick with consequence. The Emperor's expression, though stern, hinted at a deeper conflict—a duty to protect his realm balanced with a hidden empathy that he rarely showed. "You cannot be... If you're here..." he murmured, lost momentarily in his own thoughts.

Before the tension could escalate further, Cheng Yi suddenly stepped in from behind the Emperor. His sword flashed in the dim light as he aimed it at the Emperor's neck. "How dare you threaten my guests!" he shouted, his voice raw with a mix of defiance and the unyielding pain of his recent loss.

The Emperor's bodyguard reacted instantly, raising his own sword to intercept Cheng Yi. "How dare you raise your sword at him?" the guard demanded, his tone equal parts shock and admonishment. In that volatile moment, Cheng Yi's grief clouded his judgment—he glared at the Emperor, momentarily forgetting that his uncle had brought the sovereign here.

Noticing Cheng Yi's haunted, conflicted expression, Yun Yuhua quickly intervened with a shake of her head. Her silent plea spoke volumes—this was not the time for reckless violence. Cheng Yi's eyes softened in understanding; he slowly withdrew his sword and stepped back, positioning himself between the blade and Yun Yuhua.

"Leave if you intend nothing but disrespect toward the guests of the Lui family," Cheng Yi commanded, his voice resolute but edged with the weight of grief. The Emperor hesitated, lowering his sword, his gaze lingering on Cheng Yi—seeing not just defiance but the madness of a young man undone by loss.

The bodyguard opened his mouth to protest, but the Emperor's raised hand silenced him. "Who are you?" the Emperor repeated, turning his measured gaze back to Yun Yuhua.

"I'm merely a visitor—a friend of Sir Lui," she replied evenly. Cheng Yi's glare, however, spoke of lingering doubt.

"Why do you need to know?" he snapped, unable to hide his indignation. The guard's disapproving look hinted at his own rising frustration with Cheng Yi's impetuosity.

At that moment, Ruqi appeared at the gate. Her eyes darted around until they fell on the Emperor, then on Yun Yuhua and Cheng Yi—an arrangement that set off alarms within her. Rushing in, she approached Yun Yuhua, and concern etched on her face. "Are you alright?" she asked softly.

"I'm fine," Yun Yuhua replied, a trace of curiosity mingling with caution. "But why are you here?"

Ruqi exhaled in relief before issuing a quiet command, "Cheng Yi, take Yun Yuhua inside to join Tian Ke—they must be together."

Cheng Yi, still simmering from the earlier encounter, extended his hand. Yun Yuhua offered him a tentative smile as they moved away. The instant they vanished into the room, Ruqi knelt, her posture a mix of humility and urgency. "Ruqi..." the Emperor began. 

Ruqi interrupted, "I'm sorry for their impudence. They are still young, and they have much to learn. Please forgive them."

The Emperor regarded her then—not with pity or disgust but with the careful calculation of one burdened by the responsibilities of the state. "And who is that girl?" he inquired softly.

Ruqi closed her eyes briefly before answering, "Zhiyong confirmed she is Anke's granddaughter..." As the words left her lips, the Emperor's face lost all color—not in anger or shock, but in a mingled expression of relief and sorrow, as if the revelation carried both hope and a heavy, inevitable grief.

"When? Where? How?" The Emperor's voice cracked with a raw urgency. Ruqi's eyes welled up with tears.

"Anke's daughter was Zhiyong's wife... She died at the hands of Hao Jian, consumed by obsession. Since then, Zhiyong has raised their children alone. Perhaps that's why he pleaded with you to stay out of his family's affairs," Ruqi revealed, her voice heavy with sorrow. The Emperor stumbled backward, his bodyguard swiftly catching him. For the first time in a long while, the Emperor's eyes filled with tears.

"So... His bloodline still remains?" he asked, his voice tinged with reluctant disbelief. Ruqi nodded solemnly.

"Zhiyong swore to protect them, no matter the cost. He never once faltered in that duty... not for Anke's daughter, not for anyone," she added quietly. The Emperor's gaze shifted, his attention drawn to the mistress's quarters, where Yun Yuhua had entered.

"No wonder..." he murmured, his eyes narrowing in recognition. "She looks exactly like her."

"She does... Her mother was raised well, and better, under Master Gin's and Zhiyong's care," Ruqi replied softly. But the Emperor shook his head, his voice quiet but certain.

"No... Not her mother... Her... Xiu Yan."

With that, the Emperor turned and left the residence, his face a mask of determination. He made his way to the inn, where Ruqi had arranged a private space for him to pore over the fragmented records of Hao Jian's twisted legacy. Ruqi presented the evidence she had gathered through her investigation. Lulei added more—new findings from recent days.

Soon, wanted posters bearing the name Lui Hao Jian spread throughout the marketplace. When Hao Jian returned to the village, he spotted them—his face plastered across walls, corners, and doors. Locals were questioned. The search for him had turned frantic. Realizing the danger, Hao Jian fled once again.

Weeks passed. Still, the Emperor could not catch him.

Hao Jian now had to find a way to sneak back into his home, but guards stood at every turn.

Meanwhile, Cheng Yi had just completed the funerals of his mother and grandfather. Day after day, night after night, he remained by their graves. He still clung to the hope that the accusations against his father weren't true... but Lulei and Tishui reminded him otherwise.

"Young lord..." Lulei whispered softly. Cheng Yi sat in silence, unable to sleep, watching the flickering candle beside his mother's tombstone.

"If he really did it," Cheng Yi murmured, "then why did he bother having me...?"

"Late Madam and I wondered that too," she said. "But having you... it was always a blessing. You were the reason she kept moving, even when it hurt." Lulei sat beside him, her tears falling quietly.

"She must have suffered alone... while I was out enjoying life with others." Cheng Yi exhaled a slow, broken sigh.

Lulei gave a gentle smile.

"Those people helped you grow. They gave you the heart that let you cherish your mother—before it was too late."

Cheng Yi leaned into her, trembling as he began to cry.

"Why? Why though? Father could've just left us... That would've been better than trying to get rid of us!"

Lulei couldn't answer—not with words. She simply patted his back, her hand shaking.

From the doorway, Tishui watched them. His eyes narrowed, sorrow pulling at his brow.

"Monsters don't understand humans," he muttered. "Cheng Yi... thank goodness Jiejie raised you well."

He turned away and returned to his chambers, shoulders heavy.

There, an imperial letter waited beside the newly sealed edict.

"Ruqi stated that Lui Cheng Yi has always served the people with love and care. Since he stands in contrast to his father in the best of ways, he shall be appointed the new Minister of Rites. Once Hao Jian is found, he is to be executed by law."

Tishui's grip on the letter tightened.

"Find him. And do so immediately," he growled. "He's less than a dog on the street."