Chapter 190

Chapter 190: Absurd Suspicions

A burning anger, when misplaced, can be even more ruthless than real fire.

“Let’s go.”

Nearby, Sheng Zhi Wan lowered the carriage curtain as the wheels turned away.

The words of the scholarly Gentry Clans could cut deeper than swords or spears. Yet, in the end, guesses were just guesses.

Soon, enraged students gathered, led by Wang Huai Zhi and several other young masters from prestigious families. Determined to uncover the truth themselves, they sent servants swiftly toward Ji Prefecture.

Ji Prefecture bordered Qing Prefecture, and the Capital City lay at the southern edge of Qing Prefecture. Riding day and night, the servants felt the bitter northern winds slicing through even their thick fur cloaks and gloves, slipping coldly around their necks before they even reached Ji Prefecture’s borders.

Unlike inside the prefecture city, where roads were cleared, here horses struggled through deep snow. Fortunately, what they sought could be learned without entering the city itself.

Within just two days, the story of burning cotton had spread across Ji Prefecture’s lands.

“Aye, that burning cotton business is true,” a villager sighed. “Heard it was done by a shop helper. Bought three pounds and still wasn’t satisfied; wanted more to resell at high prices.”

“If everyone did that, what would others buy?”

“Black-hearted wretch! Nearly got the little ones in Ci Ji Hall killed, too! Lucky that Boss Du ordered people to save the children first, else they’d have all burned!”

“Who’s Boss Du? Why, Boss Du runs Prosperous Hall, of course!”

“He’s truly a good-hearted man! If not for him, I don’t know how many villagers might’ve died this winter!”

As the village auntie spoke, she proudly showed off her new padded jacket. “See, made from the cotton bought at Prosperous Hall! Warm as anything!”

The servants exchanged troubled glances. This was the sixth village they’d visited, and the stories matched everywhere.

“Prosperous Hall…”

Wang Huai Zhi’s servant finally recalled why the name felt so familiar. Wasn’t it because of Prosperous Hall that his young master had previously bet with Princess Ning?

Could all this be Princess Ning’s doing?

The servant’s mouth twitched. [My young master truly picked up a stone only to drop it on his own foot.]

Yet, he wasn’t alone; the others had heard everything too.

They finished their inquiries and prepared to return.

As for the other scenes depicted in the painting—

Cheap cotton was real, burning cotton was real, and Ci Ji Hall’s fire was also real! With such truths established, did the rest even need questioning?

Commoners might believe a mere shop helper was behind this, but these young men did not. They knew better. How could one helper overcome tight guards around precious cotton bales?

Could he fly or vanish at will?

These servants were common folk themselves, some even lower, and naturally held suspicion toward the rich. With their own guesses formed, they hurried back to the capital city.

Meanwhile, news of the great painter Xian Yuan Zi’s latest work had already reached every corner of the Capital City. Scholars from all around flocked to see it at Gathering Worthies Teahouse.

Inside, the tea house bustled endlessly. The painting’s content and speculations spread wider with each new visitor, and many waited eagerly for the servants’ return from Ji Prefecture. Wang Huai Zhi and others faced questioning daily.

“Young Master!”

“Young Master!”

Barely had the servants shown their faces when a crowd surrounded them.

Wang Huai Zhi urged his servant to share what he’d discovered. The servant hesitated.

“What’s there you can’t say? Speak clearly!” buoyed by recent praise, Wang Huai Zhi commanded.

Forced to comply, the servants recounted their findings, each confirming the other.

Hearing “Prosperous Hall,” Wang Huai Zhi felt his ears buzz.

A tactless scholar beside him remarked, “Huai Zhi, I recall Princess Ning donated goods under the name Prosperous Hall. Could this cotton also be from her?”

“No… Impossible!” Wang Huai Zhi refused to accept it.

“Then, the burning cotton incident really happened!” A student’s teacup crashed to the floor, shards scattering and jolting everyone’s attention back to the main point.

“So, the painter’s depiction was true!”

“A mere shop helper? Who believes a mere helper could pull this off?”

Rumors can melt gold and shatter bones.

Inflamed by righteous fury, the scholars now saw this not as mere conjecture, but as a verified tragedy. Poems and essays burst forth like snowflakes, detailing the horrors of Ji Prefecture.

Word inevitably reached Duke Qi’s residence.

Meng Yang turned deathly pale, unwilling to believe it.

“No, impossible!”

“It’s just a painting! Are those students mad? Accusing without any evidence!”

“Claiming with such certainty! Third Prince only ordered cotton burned, not the children at Ci Ji Hall!”

“Spreading these slanders, writing such defaming poems—aren’t they afraid officials will hold them accountable?”

Qi Shu Xian’s expression darkened. On his desk lay poems servants had copied from outside, each one piercing.

Burning cotton…

Third Prince commanded it, all to enrich the imperial treasury.

He could not, dared not, oppose it.

But burning Ci Ji Hall too?

Qi Shu Xian’s heart chilled.

“What famous painter? When passing Gathering Worthies Teahouse, I glanced inside. Just ordinary!” Meng Yang scoffed. With her taste, it was merely another unremarkable piece. Why the fuss?

Yet Qi Shu Xian paused oddly at hearing “famous painter.”

Lowering his gaze, he remembered an old moment.

Back when he first met Sheng Zhi Wan, the painter’s reputation had just spread. He’d casually mentioned wanting to see such art himself.

The very next day, Sheng Zhi Wan gifted him a painting said to be Xian Yuan Zi’s work. It bore no signature, but its brushwork was unmistakable.

Yet no matter how he pressed, Sheng Zhi Wan would never tell him its source, only saying it was bought elsewhere.

But was it really such coincidence? One day he wished, the next she produced the painting.

He hadn’t thought deeply back then.

But now, connecting it with today’s events, an absurd suspicion suddenly crept into his mind—

Could Sheng Zhi Wan and the renowned painter Xian Yuan Zi actually know each other?

Yes!

Only if they knew each other could she casually acquire his works.

Only with their acquaintance could the painting “Thousand Mile Frozen Cotton Burning Painting” emerge so perfectly timed after the Prosperous Hall fire.

With this thought, Qi Shu Xian abruptly rose and hurried to the study room.

Meng Yang, startled, quickly followed.

But Qi Shu Xian, lost in troubling thoughts, no longer noticed her presence…