Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Thirty-Two: Unveiling the Truth

“The murderer who killed Xiaolian… There’s no such person here!” Changning’s small face was filled with utter confusion.

Chen Chang’an nodded and said, “Your Highness, there is indeed no murderer of Xiaolian here, but there is an accomplice.”

Princess Changning pouted, “An accomplice? Where?”

Slowly raising his hand, Chen Chang’an pointed at Xu Hezi, who had been standing silently to the side the entire time, and declared, “It’s him.”

“What?” Changning was aghast. “You’re saying Painter Xu is an accomplice to Xiaolian’s murderer? Impossible! Chen Chang’an, stop spouting such nonsense!”

With a solemn expression, Chen Chang’an replied firmly, “Your Highness, to be precise, he is not Xu Hezi, the greatest painter of Great Min. The real Xu Hezi is the headless corpse found in the western forest.”

Changning was stunned into silence.

Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng both perked up, listening with rapt attention. Although they knew that this blind son-in-law had already unraveled the case’s details through inquiries with Madam Wang and the two maids, he had never revealed everything openly.

Therefore, their feelings were much the same as Princess Changning: shock, pure and unadulterated shock.

Xu Hezi, the man in question, suddenly burst into laughter. “Ha! Ha! This young man is truly amusing. If I’m not the greatest painter of Great Min, then who is?”

He picked up a brush dipped in pink pigment and swept it across the wall with swift, flowing movements. In an instant, a lifelike peach tree seemed to blossom on the wall, as if its branches would sway in the wind.

Straightening his back, he demanded, “If I’m not Xu Hezi, how could I paint like this?”

Princess Changning glared at Chen Chang’an, displeased. “Exactly. Just last night, I saw with my own eyes how he painted the Empress’s portrait. His linework was sublime, each stroke subtle and masterful—only the greatest painter of Great Min could achieve such skill.”

Chen Chang’an, even before the princess, let out a cold laugh. “His skills are indeed excellent, but I would stake my life on this: he is an impostor.”

“Your Highness, do you recall the conclusion we reached when we first examined the scene of Xiaolian’s death?”

Changning, growing impatient with Chen Chang’an’s persistence, suppressed her irritation when she heard her maid’s name. “At the time, we thought Xiaolian had been bribed to do something concerning me.”

Chen Chang’an snapped his fingers. “Exactly. I couldn’t figure out what they wanted Xiaolian to do until I heard someone in the residence say that it was Xiaolian’s suggestion to have Xu Hezi paint the Empress’s portrait as a birthday tribute.”

“That’s right. Is there a problem?” Changning frowned, her brows knotting gracefully.

Chen Chang’an made a face in Xu Hezi’s direction and continued, “From the very start, the case revolved around Your Highness. What they truly wanted was to learn from you the secret of making writing appear on tung oil paper.”

He deliberately mentioned only the tung oil paper, not the record book left by Zhao Yantai, knowing it was a secret that must not be revealed.

Changning shivered slightly, her gaze falling once more onto that blank sheet of paper, lost in thought.

“The plan,” Chen Chang’an explained, “was to first bribe Xiaolian, urging Your Highness to invite Xu Hezi to paint the Empress’s portrait. Once the suggestion was accepted, Xiaolian had outlived her usefulness and was silenced. Then, Xu Hezi himself was killed, resulting in the headless corpse found in the western forest. Next, someone would impersonate the painter and infiltrate the princess’s residence, feigning the task of painting.”

“The real objective was to create a fuss at just the right moment, claiming the Empress’s portrait had vanished from the paper. With the Empress’s birthday so close, Your Highness would be anxious, suspecting that the portrait had been hidden by the properties of tung oil paper.”

“To ensure the painting could be recreated in time, you would immediately attempt to retrieve the missing portrait. Thus, without anyone noticing, they would learn the method to reveal writing on tung oil paper and could pursue the rest of their designs!”

The “other designs” referred, of course, to consulting Zhao Yantai’s secret record book.

“No… Impossible…” Princess Changning’s countenance changed dramatically. Her beautiful face seemed cloaked in frost. Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng did not understand the hidden meaning in Chen Chang’an’s words, but she knew all too well.

Thinking back, when she was kidnapped by the bandits at Sanyuan Temple, their purpose had been to force the writing to appear in her brother’s record book—a book also made from tung oil paper.

“How… how vicious!”

Chen Chang’an let out a breath, twisting a lock of black hair at his brow, and addressed the false “Xu Hezi” with a teasing tone. “Well, am I right? Anything you’d care to explain?”

“You could choose to die denying it, of course, but that would come at a price.”

“Hmph!” The man’s voice changed, his eyes darting about as he weighed the strength of both sides, then he laughed aloud. “Chen Chang’an, well done. I thought the plan flawless, but you found the crack. You’re right—I’m not Xu Hezi. I am Green Toad.”

As he said Chen Chang’an’s name, the skin on his face began to crack and split, a faint purple radiance seeping from within. Fresh sheen and blood surged beneath, and by the time he finished speaking, the face of Great Min’s chief painter had transformed into someone else entirely.

“Ah! Quickly, kill him!” Princess Changning darted to stand beside Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng.

Chen Chang’an forced down his discomfort and glanced back to see his brother-in-law, Su Dingfeng, still standing at the rear, his form now just a blurry white silhouette. Straightening, he lifted his chin. “Hmph, you little wretch!”

Green Toad’s face twitched, but he suppressed his murderous urge. “Very well, Chen Chang’an—I admit defeat. But there’s still one thing I don’t understand. We’ve never met or spoken. How did you know I was an impostor?”

Chen Chang’an chuckled. “True, we never met directly. But you may not realize, last night my brother-in-law used a Bashan Sword Sect technique to let my spirit sense explore Xu Hezi’s quarters.”

“There, I found a palette with only yellow and blue pigments—no green at all among any of the inkstones on his desk.”

Green Toad was puzzled. “And what does that prove?”

Chen Chang’an stroked his brow. “It shows the real Xu Hezi had a habit: in all his paintings, he never used pure green pigment, only a mixture of yellow and blue.”

“You can see it in the finished works hanging on his studio wall—every green area is slightly muted, which proves the point.”

“But yesterday, at the entrance to the princess’s residence, you had Madam Wang send in pure green pigment. That alone was suspicious. And from questioning the two maids, I learned you prepared a sheet of tung oil paper specifically for the Empress’s portrait.”

“So you see, I couldn’t let the ruse continue any longer.”

Indeed, once Chen Chang’an had learned about the peach blossoms, he suspected the villains had obtained the record book, but for some reason were unable to use it—thus the plot surrounding Xiaolian’s death.

When Li Shu mentioned that words and images on tung oil paper could be miraculously concealed, everything clicked. The common link between the record book and Princess Changning’s commission for the painter was the same: paper.

“Incredible, such attention to detail!” Li Shu exclaimed in admiration.

Wu Yuanheng nodded vigorously. “Yes, truly meticulous!”

Green Toad sighed, as if mocking himself. “So, the rumor that Xiaolian died for love was just a smokescreen to make us lower our guard?”

Chen Chang’an nodded. “Yes. I didn’t want to end up like Hua Mulan and Ye Lin, ambushed by someone wielding primal techniques. I had to investigate in secret and release false conclusions to mislead everyone.”

“And now… you’re not afraid?”

Green Toad’s pupils dilated, head slowly lifting as a palpable murderous aura radiated from him, making the half-blind Chen Chang’an’s back go cold.

A sudden crackle sounded as Li Shu gathered his inner energy, clutching two copper coins between his fingers, ready to strike at any moment.

Wu Yuanheng thrust out his chest and spread his arms wide, shielding Princess Changning securely behind him.

Chen Chang’an, meanwhile, reached up to caress the green bamboo hairpin in his hair, smiling cheerfully. “I’m not afraid now—because the passive has become the active!”

“Because now, everything is in place—absolutely everything!”

Bang!

Bang bang!

Concentric shockwaves rippled through the room, splintering the floor, toppling tables and chairs, cracking the walls. Life and death hung in the balance—the battle was about to begin.