"Never mind that the Imperial Court itself handed down the verdict, and no one in any provincial government would dare overturn it. Say you've brought your appeal before the emperor, and he's willing to hear it. Where's your evidence? What can Jiao Zheng's account of what happened and those three hundred thousand coins prove? Would Liu Yin admit it? Even if he did, what would that accomplish? Do you think Liu Yin was the one behind this case? Back then, he was only a minor clerk in the Directorate of Arms, and from the Cold Clans at that. What means did he have to frame a commander of the Imperial Guard? Could he have managed it alone?"
"And your father-if he really carried out the looting under orders, why didn't he say so? Of course, perhaps he never had the chance. But what about the others? Could none of them have known anything? Besides, even if someone wanted to harm your father, this was an awfully roundabout way to do it. First they ordered him to plunder towns, turning it into a scandal that shook the court and the country. Then came framing him, silencing witnesses, and buying people off-all just to bring him down? If someone with that much power really wanted to harm your father, would they need to go to such elaborate lengths?"
Chen Qing Shan felt utterly drained.
She felt as though a boundless ocean lay between her and the truth. She swam desperately, searched desperately, yet never caught sight of its shores. She didn't know what to do, or what she could do. It was as though she stood in a world of chaos, without direction or guidance. Yet her obsession with clearing her father's name tugged madly at her heart, even as a profound