However, Meng Zhao's response truly stirred a flicker of curiosity in him. Could the other man really have clues to the murderer?
Eunuch Zhan prided himself on knowing that even if the Emperor was aware Meng Zhao had been framed, he would turn a blind eye to his actions in order to eliminate Dragon King Meng, whose potential was boundless, and might even reward him.
In that case, this trip to the Northern Lands would not have been a failure after all. He would at least have gained something.
But that was false, not true.
And failing to find the murderer who had killed Beitang Xing was, to the Emperor, always a lingering regret, a fishbone caught in his throat.
That ferocious beast had dared to kill Beitang Xing. It was plainly a fiend of monstrous evil. The Emperor likely felt not only hatred toward it, but also the same wariness he held toward Meng Zhao.
Thus, if there was a chance to find the true culprit, he was still willing to give it a try. It was only that he had previously held such great hopes, only to find nothing at all, and Eunuch Zhan had already extinguished that notion.
Now, Meng Zhao's words once again awakened Eunuch Zhan's desire and intention to investigate the true culprit.
After all, framing Meng Zhao to lessen his own blame for handling matters poorly and curry favor with Emperor Beitang Sheng was merely a possibility he had imagined. As for how things truly stood, he had no great confidence.
No confidence, uncertainty—those meant that anything could happen.
Especially since what he was doing could be construed as deceiving the Emperor, making the risks even greater.
Naturally, Eunuch Zhan worried about the consequences he would face after doing this.
But if he could