Whether Wen Zhiwei smiled, Wang Chong did not know, but he guessed the woman must have smiled.
Wen Zhiwei said lightly, "The Heavenly Empress has long fostered Wen Zhengchun in the Wen family. He was raised by my cousin Wen Zhengxi and regards me as his own elder sister. He obeys me in everything, so he would never imagine that the person closest to him would be the one scheming against him."
Wang Chong asked, "Many of those cases were not his doing. How could he believe he is White Chrysanthemum?"
Wen Zhiwei gave a soft laugh and said, "After the Heavenly Empress came of age, she was deeply feared by her father and brothers. Zhengchun has long lived in constant dread, afraid that his imperial grandfather—or even an imperial uncle—might order him put to death. He has grown timid as a mouse. Whether he is innocent or not does not matter. He only needs to know that someone means to harm him, and if a grave charge is pinned on him and he is given a small scare, he will naturally obey."
Wang Chong's expression shifted slightly. "So the White Chrysanthemum cases were only to force him out of Chang'an."
Wen Zhiwei spoke flatly. "Would we kill him with our own hands? Such things are too dirty. Let the eighteen grassland tribes do it. Even the Heavenly Empress will have nothing to say afterward."
Wang Chong asked, "Why tell me such a secret? Even without me, this scheme could still be carried out."
Her lovely eyes fixed on Wang Chong through the veil, and she said, word by word, "Now there has been a small hitch in this matter!"
"What hitch?" Wang Chong asked.
"The Prince of Yan has disappeared," Wen Zhiwei replied.
Wang Chong almost could not hold back a laugh. Even he had to admire the cunning of the kill-the-chrysanthemum plan: first brand the Prince of Yan a lecher, then goad him into fleeing Chang'an, and finally lure the eighteen grassland tribes to kill him. The whole scheme was perfect. But who could have guessed that His Highness the Prince of Yan would vanish? For Wen Zhiwei to come to him today, the Wen family must be desperate. After all, with the Prince missing, none of their plans could proceed, nor could they be brought to a conclusion.
Wen Zhiwei stared at Wang Chong and said, "We searched the counties around Tongzhou and still could not find the Prince of Yan. We even suspected you, Brother Wang Chong, and sent Zhengming to investigate Pengshan County. We never expected Zhengming to fall to someone's murderous hand and bring back no news at all."
"Brother Wang Chong, can you tell us whether the Prince of Yan is in your hands?"
Wang Chong thought, "Wen Zhengming? I killed him. But I truly do not know anything about the Prince of Yan."
He shook his head and said, "I have never met the Prince of Yan. Miss Wen can ask the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance and find out. I have no extra people around me, nor do I keep any secret movements."
Wang Chong knew Wen Zhiwei certainly would not believe him, but whether she believed him or not was none of his concern.
Wen Zhiwei raised a hand as if to lift her veil. The hand pinching the veil was like carved jade, flawless. Even Wang Chong silently praised it in his heart—this woman could have been a hand model; her hand was simply too beautiful. Neither spoke for a long while. Wen Zhiwei still did not lift the veil, and said lightly, "I hope Brother Wang does not deceive me."
Wang Chong gave a bitter laugh and said, "If I had the ability, I would conjure up a Prince of Yan for Miss Wen."
Finally Wen Zhiwei lowered her hand without lifting the veil. The woman was decisive; she did not waste a single extra word and turned to leave.
Suddenly Wang Chong called out, "Must that man really be... killed?"
Wen Zhiwei did not turn back. "Such childish words are not worth an answer from Zhiwei."
Wang Chong had nothing to say. He knew, in fact, that from a human standpoint, the Prince of Yan could naturally remain alive, but from the standpoint of interest, the Wen family must want him dead.
The chance of the Prince of Yan becoming the new emperor was extremely low. At court, countless great clans, prominent families, imperial relatives, noble scions, and even civil officials and military commanders all acknowledged only the Jiang surname. Someone surnamed Wen had absolutely no chance of winning their support. Childish ideas like changing his surname to Jiang or marrying a woman of the Jiang surname were not even worth putting on the table. If they wanted to enthrone Wen Zhengchun, there was only one road: it had to be paved with flesh and bone, killing who knew how many people, with heads inevitably rolling—and even then, the Wen family might not win.
Secondly, even if Wen Zhengchun ascended the throne, the Wen family would gain little and might even suffer greatly. In the future, all roads—success in the imperial examinations, meritorious service leading to noble rank, rising as generals and ministers—would be cut off.
What an emperor feared most was never his ministers. For a minister to rebel would violate the natural order of human relations; unless the realm was in great chaos, he could hardly succeed. What every emperor feared most were imperial relatives, because once the emperor died, they naturally had the right of succession. Throughout history, few powerful ministers of the court had been of the imperial house.
The odds of winning were extremely low, and even if they won, there would be no benefit; instead, there would be many harms. Thus the Wen family's choice to abandon the Prince of Yan, Wen Zhengchun, was not hard to understand.
Wang Chong could even imagine that the Wen family had likely made a deal with the other prominent families and great clans at court, and had already reaped enormous benefits.
Just as Wen Zhiwei was about to walk out the main gate, Wang Chong suddenly said, "Miss Wen, there is one more thing I want to tell you!"
Wen Zhiwei did not stop. "I have nothing more to say."
"It is about the whereabouts of the Prince of Yan," Wang Chong said.
Wen Zhiwei paused slightly, then appeared before Wang Chong in an instant like a whirlwind. "Brother Wang Chong, so you really do know the Prince of Yan's whereabouts."
Wang Chong raised a hand. "Wait a moment, Miss Wen. Let me wash my face."
With a surge of qi, he shouted loudly, "Bring me clear water and a towel."
Soon, several people brought over a large wooden tub and asked eagerly, "Does the chief constable wish to bathe?"
Wang Chong said irritably, "You may all leave first."
Wen Zhiwei was also stunned. Her veil stirred without wind, and she was clearly somewhat angry.
Wang Chong drove everyone out, then slowly wiped the rouge and powder from his face with the towel, revealing his true face. Wen Zhiwei's body suddenly trembled, and she cried out, "Zhengchun!"
"You are Zhengchun!?"
"How could you pretend to be a jianghu wanderer and deceive your sister!"
Wang Chong sighed, threw down the towel in his hand, and said, "Guess!?"
Wen Zhiwei lifted her veil, revealing a face as lovely and ethereal as an immortal's. Half reproachful and half aggrieved, she said, "Little brother! You have been away for so long, and I have been so anxious."
"My earlier words were merely a test..."
Wang Chong waved a hand and said with a smile, "Sister, how could I not believe you? You are my closest person! Earlier you must have thought I was an outsider and were just toying with me."
Wen Zhiwei relaxed slightly and stepped to Wang Chong's side. Her breath was fragrant as orchid, and she said softly, "All this time, I have been worried about you. I could not sleep, and I could not eat. How did you become Wang Chong? And how has your martial arts improved so much?"
Wang Chong chuckled. "How could martial arts suddenly improve? Wang Chong is actually..."
He pressed a palm against Wen Zhiwei's lower abdomen and unleashed the Diamond Prajna Palm Force: Nine-Headed Fire Dragon Flash, channeling every ounce of internal force he had cultivated in his life.
Caught off guard, Wen Zhiwei was blasted by the ninefold, incomparably fierce internal force. Her internal organs, chest and abdomen, and bones all shattered. Her eyes were full of disbelief as she looked at Wang Chong, and she could no longer speak.
Wang Chong said leisurely, "Miss Wen, you never imagined that the person closest to you would be the one to kill you, did you?"
Chapter 74