Li Ce didn't even seem angry. He stood in silence, his gaze fixed on Li Long with a glimmer of scrutiny—and a faint, almost imperceptible trace of sympathy.
"Jiaojiao," Li Ce said softly to Ye Jiao, "he's lost the will to live. Are you going to let him have his way?"
"No will to live?" Ye Jiao glanced at Li Long, clearly unfamiliar with him.
"Yes," Li Ce stood tall and elegant amidst the cold and desolate prison cell. He tightened his grip on Ye Jiao's arm. "My brother, the esteemed crown prince, once lived unrestrained and carefree. He fought for ten years on the frontier, dedicating his blade to the nation. And now? He is condemned to lifelong imprisonment. Death would be kinder. So he weaves these lies, hoping to provoke you into granting him a swift end—just like Ye Changgen did with Qian Yougong."
Li Ce spoke calmly, but his words struck true. Li Long, whose secret had been pierced, grew even more furious.
"You think you understand everything, don't you? If you were truly wise, would you really serve as Li Zhang's lapdog?" he spat, hurling the hairpin in his hand with all his might.
Clang!The golden pin struck Li Ce, slid down his dark robe, and clattered onto the floor.
Li Ce still didn't grow angry. Instead, he lowered his head and said to Ye Jiao, "It's cold in here. Go wait for me in the carriage, will you?"
Ye Jiao thought for a moment, then nodded. "I won't fall for that," she said to Li Long with disdain. "If you want to die, do it yourself—don't drag us down with you."
Now that she understood the reason behind the slander, much of her anger dissipated. Watching her turn and walk away, Li Long slumped, shaking his head with a bitter smile. As the warmth around him faded, Li Ce felt the chill deepen.
He stooped to pick up the hairpin, gently wiping away the dust. With a soft sigh, he said, "Miss Ye has gone. If you have something to say, speak freely."
Though Li Long had been reduced to a commoner, Li Ce still addressed him as "brother"—distant, but not devoid of decorum.
The prison was dimly lit. Li Long sat lazily on a cushion, leaning against the iron bars, casting a sideways glance at Li Ce.
"You know I don't actually want to die," he sighed heavily, exhaling all the bitterness in his chest. "I just needed a moment alone to speak with you."
"Then you needn't have provoked her," Li Ce replied. "She really might have killed you."
"I still want to live," Li Long gritted his teeth. "I want to watch Li Zhang fall. Only when he meets a fate worse than mine will I rest in peace."
The military power in the northwest had been stolen by Li Long. He had orchestrated Prince Chen's rebellion just to seize it. For ten years on the border, he built his own faction amidst blood and war. Yet Li Zhang didn't even show his face—instead, he used the authority of the capital and Li Ce's hand to effortlessly take control of the northwest without a single drop of blood.
All of Li Long's schemes had served only to pave the way for someone else. He lost his power, his title—how could he accept it?
"I simply don't understand," Li Long muttered, "why you would aid Li Zhang."
It was Li Ce who had uncovered the truth about the corpses in Yuqiong Tower. It was through his investigation that Li Long's subordinates were traced. Even the failed silencing at Mount Li was ruined because of Li Ce's unexpected arrival.
Li Ce gave no explanation. He had taken over the Yuqiong case because Imperial Censor Baili Xi cornered him with a few choice words. Baili Xi, clearly, was one of Li Zhang's people.
Both he and Li Long had been manipulated by Li Zhang—the only difference was, Li Ce was the knife, and Li Long the fish on the chopping block.
"I gained something in return," Li Ce said with a quiet smile. "After all, twelve years ago, it was your false accusations that ruined Miss Ye's family."
The injustice suffered by the Duke of Anguo's household had finally been rectified. Only then could Ye Jiao and Ye Changgen see a future. This was the 'benefit' Li Ce once spoke of seeking.
"Heh!" Li Long sneered. "Then what if I tell you a secret?"
At last, they arrived at his true purpose for today's meeting. Li Ce looked at him, signaling that he was listening.
Li Long turned his whole face toward him. His skin, long unwashed, looked caked in grime, with stubble sprouting from the filth. He was a picture of ruin. But his eyes burned brightly—like poison ready to destroy them both, yet glittering with desperate hope.
"Your birth mother, Consort Shun," Li Long said, enunciating each word, "went mad… because of Li Zhang."
He spoke slowly, with painstaking clarity, as though he could hide a thousand stories within that single sentence. All the while, he stared fixedly at Li Ce's face, awaiting his reaction.
This younger brother was known for his filial piety. Every time Li Ce returned to the capital, he would visit Consort Shun—feed her, sit and talk with her—even though she was no longer able to control her bowels, even though her mind was lost. Were it not for the maids' diligent care, she would have long wasted away in some dark corner of the palace.
A son as devoted as he, once he learned who had caused his mother's ruin, would surely feel wrath and hatred.
Yet Li Ce did not.
A flicker of surprise passed through his long, narrow eyes—then they turned dim again, as calm and unfathomable as a cold, still lake.
"Is that so?" Li Ce asked.
"It's true—absolutely true!" Li Long jumped to his feet in panic. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing," Li Ce replied. "Will killing Li Zhang cure my mother's madness?"
"But you can avenge her!" Li Long shouted. "Such hatred cannot be left unpunished. When Consort Shun gave birth to you, the Emperor wanted to send you to the imperial tomb. The court whispered it was for a sacrificial rite—they said you would not survive. She knelt outside Zichen Hall, begging for a hundred days' reprieve, her forehead bloodied from kowtowing. Our father only cared about sons with promise. He ignored you for years. Until she went mad, it was always your mother who sent you clothes, silver. Now that you know who destroyed her—how can you not take revenge?"
"I won't," Li Ce said, shaking his head with a faint, bitter smile. "And you thought, after being used by Li Zhang, I'd willingly become your pawn?"
"I don't play chess," Li Long said coldly. "But if you can't even avenge your mother, then you are no better than the kind of man the Book of Songs condemns."
Li Ce had no interest in what kind of man that was. He turned and left.
Behind him, Li Long roared:
"'The rat has skin,But man has no decorum.A man without decorum—Why should he even live!'Li Ce! You're not even as good as a rat!"
Li Ce stepped out of the prison. The bright sun shone overhead, but it brought him no warmth. He lifted his eyes toward the distant Daming Palace, and felt a deep chill settle in his bones.
His heart was hollow—not because he wasn't angry, but because he was too powerless. His fury was like a clump of cotton—soft, ineffectual. More than anger, he felt shame. Guilt.
All these years, he had believed his mother was simply mad. He never asked why. Never investigated if she had been harmed.
In the Daming Palace, the two of them were nothing—beneath notice, never in the way. He tended graves in the imperial tomb. She served in the palace. What more could they have done to survive in peace?
Li Ce stood dazed in front of the prison until the carriage curtain lifted, revealing Ye Jiao's warm and familiar face.
"Sisi…" she cupped her hands around her lips and called softly, "Come now, don't let the cold get to you."
Li Ce forced his stiff limbs forward, stepping out of the shadows and into the sunlight, toward the carriage. Step by step, he climbed in. The curtain fell behind him.
Inside, he sat numbly, staring at Ye Jiao.
She took his hand.
"Oh! It's frozen!" she exclaimed in mock horror. "That bastard Li Long—what did he say to you this time? Tried to use me to kill him, didn't he? And now he wants to use you too? He thinks you're that easy?"
Li Ce blinked back into awareness, realizing that this carefree girl had her sharp moments too.
"Yes," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But I won't fall for it. Life… life is good now. Really good."
For the first time in twenty years, there was a woman by his side—someone who cared for him, stayed with him, warmed him with her hands. Like a lamp lighting his path. Like the sun, banishing the darkness.
He had no desire to be caught up in schemes. He had no strength to face Li Zhang or the Empress.
"Jiaojiao," Li Ce whispered, broken and weary, "I'm truly… useless."