“Master!”
Qingxuan's voice carried through the open door before he did.
Ji Yunxi kept tending the potted plants without looking up. Ever since her memories returned, the way this creature treated her—so familiar, so fond—still made her uneasy.
“Master, Ji Yuyan has confessed.”
Her hand paused; a leaf slipped and fell. “Wasn’t she dead-set on keeping quiet before?”
Qingxuan snorted. “Lord Qi gave her twenty lashes the moment he went in. She still refused, at first. But when they began to torment Madam Qiao, she couldn’t take it. A few more blows and she spilled everything like beans.”
Ji Yunxi felt a bitter little laugh stir in her chest. “I didn’t think she had anyone she cared about.”
“She surprised me too,” Qingxuan said, growing serious. “She could kill her father without so much as blinking, but she doted on that woman. There’s more to it.”
Ji Yunxi turned to him. “Two devils of the same kind. Keep an eye on her. Don’t give whoever’s backing her a chance to rescue her.”
Qingxuan frowned. “How can you be sure there’s someone behind her?”
“She’s vicious, but not stupid.” Ji Yunxi tightened her grip on the pot. “What could she possibly gain by killing her father? He may have been cold, but he never failed to provide—status, security, everything a daughter of the household could want. Ji Yuyan must have known what she’d lose.”
Qingxuan’s eyebrows drew together. “I can understand it if she’d come after you, Master, but to turn against Minister Ji… I can’t make sense of it.”
Ji Yunxi’s expression darkened. “Someone must have promised her something—something better than being a minister’s daughter.”
Qingxuan’s eyes went wide with understanding. “People are unpredictable.”
She glanced at the plants—arranged now into a pleasing display. “Qingxuan, you should take this yourself. I don’t trust others with it.”
“Of course, Master.” Qingxuan bowed. “Where’s Lu Shu? I didn’t see him earlier.”
Just then Lu Shu strode in, dust clinging to his boots, breathless. “I’m here. Qingxuan, you can’t handle it alone? Wanted me to tag along?”
Qingxuan made a disgusted sound. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Lu Shu puckered his lips and ignored him, turning to Ji Yunxi. “Guildmistress, I was with the Ministry today. We searched the side wing where Madam Qiao stayed and found a hidden compartment full of that poison. We sent most of it back to the Ministry; I kept some to bring to Menghua Pavilion for study.”
“Well done. Shu has always been dependable.”
Qingxuan was about to retort when he caught the eager flash in the boy’s eyes—something like a flare of hot flame that aggravated him. Lu Shu, clearly enjoying his moment, added, “Thank you, Guildmistress. Unlike some people, I don’t need company to guard a prisoner.”
Qingxuan, seeing the insult, flared and left without another word.
Ji Yunxi could only sigh. She and Feng Xingzhi were close—practically family now—but the two spirit beasts clearly had their own grievances. There’d be more bickering ahead.
Feng Jiangming had seen Ji Yuyan’s confession and was furious. This was the Chancellor—keeper of Nan Yan’s darkest secrets—reduced to a corpse in a courtyard squabble. Worse, Ji Yuyan’s cold declaration—“I do not regret it”—had inflamed the emperor.
With the evidence and the confessions of Madam Qiao and her daughter, Lord Qi’s verdict was swift. He looked at the confession, at the four red characters stamped across it—“Severe punishment, no mercy”—and made a decision: Ji Yuyan and her mother were beyond pardon. They would be hanged in two days.
The air in the Ministry jail was thick with blood and the sour smell of fear. Ji Yunxi pressed a hand to her face against the stench.
Ji Yunyi moved closer to his sister. “Yunxi, if you can’t bear it, go back. You don’t need to see her.”
She shook her head. “No. I need to ask her some questions.”
Ji Yunyi said nothing. Ji Yuchen turned and handed Ji Yunxi a silk handkerchief.
Feng Xingzhi had been waiting nearby. He accompanied them to the cell door. The clang of the wardens’ chains made Ji Yuyan flinch.
She was a ruin of bruises and blood, barely human. When Ji Yunxi stepped forward, Ji Yuyan’s face twisted with feral hunger; she lunged, but the ropes held her fast.
Ji Yuchen stepped instinctively in front of his sister and spoke with a coldness that cut. “Ji Yuyan. Everything you’ve brought on yourself—don’t you feel the slightest remorse?”
Ji Yuyan laughed—wild, like bellows. “Remorse? What did I do wrong? Why should I repent?”
“Stubborn to the end.” Ji Yunxi said nothing, but Feng Xingzhi stepped forward, blocking Ji Yuyan’s reach.
“Shut up, Ji Yunxi! This is all your fault!”
The shout turned pans into coals. Ji Yuyan’s voice was raw. “It was my plan, not hers. If you want someone to blame, blame me. Even if I rot as a ghost, I’ll haunt you for it!” Ji Yuchen flung his sleeve aside as if to cast off their tie.
Ji Yuyan faltered at the gesture, tears welling instantly. Head bowed, she whispered after a long while, “Aren’t you my brother?”
“Why can’t you see her? Why must your eyes always be fixed on Ji Yunxi? What about me—what am I to you?”
Her despair was a blade that stung Ji Yuchen for a moment, but the image of her murdering their father stiffened him.
“Ask your own conscience,” Ji Yuchen said. “Remember how we treated you. Even when Madam Qiao’s sins cost us our mother, did we ever mistreat you? We never denied you a thing. But what did you do?”
To Ji Yuyan, his protests were hollow. “Excuses!”
“You say we didn’t treat you badly? She—the house adored Ji Yunxi. Wherever she went people fawned over her. I never denied you anything, yet everything was chosen for her first, then what remained came to me, then to you. Father favored her without restraint. Everything good was picked by Ji Yunxi, then delivered to my courtyard.”
She choked on her words. “Even the man I loved—I begged— I kowtowed for him so Ji Yunxi could have him. And then he refused me in front of everyone! How were we ever kind to you?”
Ji Yunyi clenched his hands. “Do you know how a daughter of a concubine lives? She’s not counted among the true family. She must call the legitimate children ‘Master’ and ‘Miss’ when she meets them. Did we ever ask you to lower yourself like that? We never demanded that you do more. Even allowing Yunxi to choose first—was that so wrong? And when father didn’t know you loved Su Ningyuan, when you wanted a swap, Yunxi agreed—she’d marry the ailing prince everyone knew. How can you say we were cruel?”