Chapter 123: Evidence

The cold wind of the night bit deep, and a desolate chill seeped into Lu Jue’s heart, unwinding like a thread drawn from a cocoon. The handwriting on the letters was both familiar and strange—intimate, yet something he was loath to believe.

This was merely one letter; the brocade box held nearly a hundred more. To say nothing of a single conviction, even a dozen Lu families would not be enough to satisfy the executioner’s blade.

In an instant, Lu Jue’s breath hitched. His inner world collapsed, his mind went blank, and he stood rooted to the spot, soul-shattered, not daring to look up and meet Feng Yewu’s gaze. He was afraid—afraid to see disappointment, suspicion, or any of the myriad implications he could no longer bear to face in her eyes.

Within the void of his mind, Lu Jue felt as though the heavens had played a cruel joke upon him. He remained in silence, awaiting Feng Yewu’s final judgment.

In the heavy stillness, Feng Yewu did not rush to a conclusion. She studied the letters one by one, her silence absolute. Beneath the somber night sky, the surrounding lanterns flickered, casting shadows that danced in and out of existence. Her eyes seemed to mirror the very depths of the night; her long, fine lashes fluttered with every line she read, casting delicate silhouettes against her dark, contemplative irises. Her pupils constricted, rippling with the weight of her thoughts.

The others remained silent as well. In the quiet front hall of the Prince of Pingyi’s residence, only the hurried footsteps of soldiers patrolling the perimeter could be heard.

"Your Majesty?"

Seeing that Feng Yewu had finished reading several letters yet remained silent, her lips pressed firmly together, Wei Nanqi could not help but speak up softly.

Before Feng Yewu could respond, Xiao Han, who had been glancing hastily over the letters, let out a sharp exclamation.

"These letters are wrong!"

The cry shattered the silence of the hall. The group turned to look at him. Lu Jue offered a self-deprecating smile and shook his head weakly.

"Ha. General Xiao, I know you wish it were not so, but these black-and-white characters—my father’s handwriting—are an irrefutable, ironclad truth."

He knew Lu Youxu’s handwriting better than anyone. Judging by the paper and the ink, it was old; it could not be a recent forgery.

Xiao Han frowned, looking at Lu Jue with earnest intensity, and swore with conviction, "Young Master Lu, you need not be so despairing. I served under General Lu for many years; I know his handwriting better than my own."

Lu Jue cut him off, his voice heavy with dejection. "If you are so familiar with it, General, how can you not recognize that this is indeed my father’s hand?"

Nearby soldiers, hearing the exchange, stopped in their tracks, their gazes drawn to the confrontation. At this point, Lu Jue had abandoned all struggle. He only wished for Feng Yewu to pass judgment; any attempt at exoneration by others was merely self-deception.

Faced with the challenge, Xiao Han showed no anger. His expression remained stern as he turned to Feng Yewu, bowed his head, and struck the floor.

"I stake my life on it, Your Majesty. While this handwriting mimics the General’s, it is absolutely not his own."

Feng Yewu understood Lu Jue’s despair. In his heart, his father had always been a man of loyalty and honor. To be confronted with such sudden, damning evidence would naturally shatter his composure. She glanced at Lu Jue before signaling for Xiao Han to continue.

"General Xiao, why are you so certain these are not in the General’s hand?"

Xiao Han’s expression turned somber, his eyes clouding with memory as he spoke slowly.

"Years ago, when I served under General Lu against the Tidi, we were caught in a chaotic skirmish. A Tidi spearman, a master of his craft, threw an ivory-bone spear in the heat of battle. Had the General not stepped in to block that strike, I would have died on the field that day."

As Lu Jue listened, a spark of clarity returned to his dim eyes. He had been young at the time of that great battle, yet the memory remained vivid. Though the Northern Defense General’s manor had won, they had suffered grievous losses. He remembered playing before the manor gates as a child, only to see the generals crowding around as his father was carried home in a state of collapse. Lu Youxu had been severely wounded, falling into a long illness that left him with a lasting infirmity.

Lu Jue did not understand why Xiao Han brought this up now, and his heart was filled with confusion.

"After that injury to his left arm, the General rarely wrote anything. At most, for military documents, he would merely sign his name to show he had reviewed them."

Feng Yewu frowned. "The General’s left arm was injured?"

Xiao Han nodded. "Your Majesty may not know, but the General was born with immense strength in his left hand and used it for all his writing."

Feng Yewu looked at Lu Jue for confirmation. Lu Jue met her gaze and gave a slight nod. Seeing her trust, Xiao Han continued.

"Your Majesty, please look. These letters are dated long after that injury, yet the strokes are full and powerful. If I were not intimately familiar with the General’s condition, I, too, would have been deceived."

Feng Yewu re-examined the letters. Every stroke was indeed bold and vigorous—hardly the hand of a man who had suffered such a debilitating injury.

"Could the General have secretly practiced with his right hand?" Wei Nanqi asked, though he was reluctant to entertain the thought. As the Minister of the Supreme Court, he had to weigh the evidence fairly, but he had to consider every possibility.

Xiao Han looked up at the star-filled sky and chuckled. "Lord Wei, you overthink it. We are simple soldiers. After his injury, the General spent his days tempering his right-handed spear technique; he was physically and mentally exhausted. He had no time for calligraphy."

"Wait!" Xiao Han seemed to recall something. He hurriedly reached into his robes and presented a letter to Feng Yewu. "Your Majesty, please look. This is a letter of recommendation the General gave me when I left the Northern Defense General’s manor."

Feng Yewu took it. The letter was an attempt by Lu Youxu to have Xiao Han stationed in the capital, filled with lavish praise for his skills. However, the handwriting was incredibly awkward, vastly different from the letters she had just seen. Had it not been for the official seal at the end, no one would have believed it came from the hand of the great General Lu Youxu.

"When was this written?" Feng Yewu asked.

A shadow of grief crossed Xiao Han’s eyes. "Three days before the manor was wiped out. By the time I reached the capital, five days had passed. When I heard the entire family had been murdered, my heart turned to ash, and I never delivered this letter to the Ministry of War."

Feng Yewu nodded slightly and handed the letter to Lu Jue. She smiled. "It is fortunate you did not deliver it, or this final piece of evidence would have been lost forever."