The Emperor leaned against his pillow, staring fixedly at the ceiling. A deep light flickered in his eyes. After a long while, he said flatly, "No other clues? For something this serious, you oversee the Imperial City Office, yet you found only this much?"
Ma Shunde's face went deathly pale, and he hurriedly kowtowed. "This servant is incompetent! Please forgive this servant, Your Majesty!"
Watching Ma Shunde kowtow again and again, sorrow rose in the Emperor's heart.
Yet that sorrow was not for Ma Shunde's current bedraggled state. He was merely a household slave—what dignity did he need?
"Ah, Prince Qi..."
The Emperor thought of the mess within his own family. He had been rather fond of Prince Qi in ordinary times, but what had this son given him in return?
He actually believed that Prince Qi had secretly amassed armored troops.
To put it bluntly, a false accusation meant seizing upon matters that were difficult to verify yet frightening to contemplate.
One rarely started with armored troops, something that would become clear with a single investigation.
The Emperor's gloomy gaze rested on the gauze curtains for a long time, and he said nothing.
Though he understood it perfectly well, he almost preferred to believe it was false. Otherwise, as a father and as an Emperor, would he not have failed utterly in some respect?
The people outside did not dare say anything about him openly, but he did not need to guess what they truly thought of him.
Even his own son wanted to rebel against him?
When those aged eyes turned to Ma Shunde again, they had narrowed.
It could not be said that this slave was insufficiently loyal.
But even knowing that Ma Shunde had faithfully done his duty, the matter of Prince Qi secretly amassing armored