Luo Ye paid no attention to the maidservant as the sedan chair passed by.
Enduring the pain in his arm and leg, Luo Ye felt dizzy from blood loss. To stay alert, he pondered who might have sent the assassin.
Luo Zhan was dead, so it couldn’t be him. Luo Qie was confined in the Grand Ancestral Court, making him unlikely responsible. The other princes lacked the resolve to attempt such an assassination.
If he were to die now, the greatest beneficiary would be his fifth brother, Luo Ding.
Luo Ding had previously arranged a fake assassination, and though no concrete evidence was found, he had lost hope of succession. This attempt might be Luo Ding’s desperate move – if the assassination succeeded, the remaining princes would be too inexperienced to compete.
As Luo Ye finished his reasoning, the imperial physician arrived, alarmed by the blood-soaked clothing. The two stab wounds by Yu Yi were deep and bloody but had not damaged any vital structures. With proper care, he would recover in a month or two.
After treatment, Luo Ye prepared to return to his mansion to recuperate. As the sedan chair passed the hall entrance, he glanced inside. The scattered fabrics and debris had been cleaned, the nanmu coffin restored to its original position on a new long table, with noticeable paint damage on a corner and the lid. Bloodstains remained unwashed, with many maids kneeling and frantically scrubbing the floor.
Luo Ye tilted his head back and looked up at the sky with a cold laugh. So-called “winners become kings, losers become bandits” – whether it was Luo Zhan or Luo Sui, they were all just defeated bandits. As for Luo Ding, he would never give him another chance to assassinate himself.
Shu Lan saw Luo Ye off, returned to her bedroom to change into a new mourning dress, and then went back to the memorial hall, standing with her head lowered beside the coffin.
Yu Yi stood beside Shu Lan, suddenly hearing Meng Qing’s voice in her earpiece: “My lady, is it convenient to talk?” She told Shu Lan and stepped outside to a deserted area, opening the walkie-talkie silently: “I’m out. Go ahead.”
“Where did you hurt Luo Ye? I heard him crying out so miserably,” Meng Qing’s words were filled with schadenfreude.
