Death Row's Night Feast: A Murderous Riddle

Years had passed since they last met, and Old Foye's once sturdy frame was now but a shadow of its former self. His form, beneath the grey-white robes, appeared even more gaunt, and the aged hand clutching his staff was skeletal, covered in countless wrinkles. Beneath a mane of grizzled hair, his ancient face was etched with weariness and profound sorrow.

Inside a side hall of Saint John Cathedral, the moment Du Chen laid eyes on Old Foye's haggard appearance, an inexplicable pang of sadness struck his heart.

Old Foye abruptly pushed away the priest who was supporting him. He stumbled, grasping Du Chen's shoulders, and made to kneel, tears streaming down his aged face. “Young Master, your old servant has heard about Young Master Steve. How could this be? Young Master Steve was such a good man…” Before he could finish, he was choked with sobs.

“Please, get up!” Du Chen, releasing a gentle current of spiritual energy, softly helped the old man to his feet. “Uncle, why have you come? The Imperial Capital is in turmoil right now!”

“Young Master is to be sent to the execution pyre! How could your old servant possibly remain idle?!” Old Foye clutched Du Chen's hand, trembling. “Young Master Steve is family to us! If not for his kindness all those years ago, you, your old servant, and young Aliza, might not even be alive today…”

The old man choked, unable to continue. He steadied himself with Du Chen's support, but his hands remained locked tightly. Clouded old tears streamed down ceaselessly as he pleaded, “Young Master, where is Young Master Steve imprisoned? Your old servant wishes to see him now!”

Du Chen replied with a troubled expression, “Brother has already been condemned and imprisoned in the Death Row Cells. No one is permitted to visit him, however…”

Old Foye wept, “Young Master is to be burned alive! Your old servant… I just want to see him, hale and whole, before he's taken to the execution pyre…” As he spoke, he made to kneel again, pleading desperately, “Young Master, your old servant isn't senile yet. I know Young Master has committed an unpardonable crime this time, and no one can save him. But… your old servant just wishes to see him one last time before he's burned to death… Wuwu, your old servant, at this age, I neither wish nor dare to see Young Master burned to a cinder!”

It was then Du Chen realized the old man had rushed here solely to see Steve one last time!

Du Chen sighed inwardly, a deep, troubled breath. It would be simple enough to take Uncle Foye to see his brother. But his brother's current state… How could Uncle Foye, at his advanced age, possibly endure such a shock?!

“Uncle, rest assured, I just arranged to visit Brother, and I've seen him! He's doing quite well!” Du Chen forced a smile. “Brother even told me that he was quite muddled when the murder occurred, and he's convinced he was framed. He was drinking and grumbling about it, entrusting me to help clear his name!”

“Really? But…” Old Foye eyed Du Chen suspiciously.

“Of course it's true! I would never lie to you, Uncle! Aliza, isn't that right?!” Du Chen smiled, supporting the old man. “Uncle, please rest here for a while. Aliza will keep you company. I'm going to find a way to clear Brother's name immediately… Please, don't worry about a thing!”

His eyes were slightly moist at the corners. Du Chen turned, a confident smile plastered across his face, and departed.

Old Foye watched Du Chen's retreating figure. He mused, ‘This child, he dares to lie even to Uncle Foye? There's no way Steve would be in the mood for drinking now! His current state…’

‘Whether he's even conscious is a significant question!’

‘Ah, well. This child must be afraid I'd be even more heartbroken if I saw Steve, which is why he made up such an excuse. It's fine. Tonight, I will personally make a trip to the Lanning Death Row Cells!’

Personally make a trip?! A ninety-year-old ordinary human elder, sneaking into death row at night?!

Indeed!

Old Foye squinted his aged eyes, surveying the side hall of the cathedral. After a moment of sighing, he waved his hand, lamenting softly, “Aliza, you don't need to follow Uncle anymore. The Young Master is currently in need of assistance… My staying here would be useless, only adding trouble. Please have a few people escort me to the old manor in Southern District. Alas, Young Master Steve was the one who helped us build that house all those years ago!”

With these words, the old man burst into tears once more.

In the main hall, Porter stood, a stack of dossiers in hand, awaiting Du Chen. “Francis, I have uncovered all the details of the murder case!” Seeing Du Chen's troubled expression, he quickened his pace of speech. “Firstly, based on Steve's character, although he has practically conceded to the accusation, I still rule out the possibility of Steve killing Salon. That leaves only two scenarios…”

“First, my brother was framed, or second, my brother is taking the fall for someone else!” Du Chen interjected quickly. “I just saw Brother, and I can largely rule out the possibility of him being framed! So, he must be taking the fall for someone else!”

Porter nodded slightly. “Given your brother's temperament, only two types of people could make him take the fall: first, a core member of the family – but Arges and Charles are certainly not the culprits, nor do they need him to cover for them! Which leaves the second type… it can only be a woman… and a very beautiful one!”

Du Chen strode outwards. “On the night of the banquet, the only beautiful woman for whom Brother would take the fall, and who would have a reason to eliminate Salon, capable of such a thing, seems to be Princess Yuna!” Du Chen shrugged with a bitter smile, muttering, “I only hope Brother hasn't truly fallen for Yuna, otherwise, I genuinely don't know what I'd do!?”

“Indeed, the probability of Steve taking the fall for Princess Yuna is extremely…” Porter suddenly paused. What?! What did Francis just say?

‘He only hopes Brother hasn't fallen for Yuna, otherwise he doesn't know what he'd do?! Doesn't the subtext of that statement imply that… Francis, who has rejected all outstanding women for years, actually harbors feelings for Yuna?!’

“What are you standing around for?” Du Chen called out. Porter, startled, mumbled a reply and quickly followed behind.

Locating Princess Yuna indeed proved to be quite a hassle for Du Chen. This eldest princess of Lanning was unlike the others. She possessed her own private residence outside the Palace of Versailles and her own established power base. Ordinarily, she did not reside within the Palace of Versailles with the other unmarried princesses.

Du Chen went to the eldest princess's private residence, only to find it empty. He then proceeded to the Palace of Versailles under the name of the Holy Church to seek her out. However, the Versailles Guards informed him that the eldest princess was with the Empress Dowager.

Changing his route once more, he rushed to the Empress Dowager's chambers, where he finally encountered Princess Yuna.

In the Empress Dowager's private garden, Princess Yuna gracefully approached, clad in a long, ink-black gown. A standard princely smile was affixed to her lips. Upon seeing Du Chen, she nodded in acknowledgment. Her gaze then fell upon Porter. “And this is…”

Porter stood up, his white robe a stark contrast to Yuna's dark attire. He adjusted his spectacles and bowed respectfully. “Porter, the Chief Administrator of Durkes City, pays his respects to Her Royal Highness!”

Yuna slowly assessed Porter. She thought, ‘Is this the young administrator said to possess the talent of a prime minister, who brought prosperity to the eight hundred li stretch along the Newin River? He is an undeniable talent, and he only recently pledged his allegiance to Francis… Were it another time, I would certainly try every means to recruit him!’

Porter, too, was sizing up Yuna. He thought, ‘She certainly appears very beautiful, but her gaze is deep, and there are widespread rumors of her great ambition… How could Francis possibly be attracted to her?!’

‘Could Francis prefer the queenly type, a queen?! Heavens, how could Francis possibly have such a preference?! I always thought that a person like him, outwardly benevolent yet inwardly shrewd, but fundamentally good, would prefer a gentle, virtuous, and domestic woman!’

One in a black gown, one in a white robe, the two exchanged smiles, holding this posture for a considerable time.

Princess Yuna was the first to break the silence. After exchanging a few polite words with Porter, whom she had just met, she sat on the stone stool opposite Du Chen, spread her hands, and let out an elegant sigh. “Things have been too overwhelming lately; I truly don't have the energy to parry with you any further. We are all discerning individuals, let's be straightforward! Francis, I am well aware that not just you, but many in the Imperial Capital, suspect that I orchestrated Salon's death using Steve as a pawn, simply because I wished to avoid marrying into McAllen. Regarding this, I shall offer you only one answer and one question!”

Porter suddenly adjusted his spectacles and chuckled. “To Her Royal Highness's answer and question, we can perhaps only offer one response!”

Their gazes swiftly interwove, meeting with unspoken smiles, neither uttering a word.

Snap! Both then turned to stare at Du Chen in unison. Yuna asked, “Does Administrator Porter's meaning reflect your own?”

Porter remained silent, but his gaze flitted daringly between Yuna and Du Chen. Du Chen even found it somewhat peculiar; Porter used to be such a quiet young man. Why did he seem so different today?!

Why?

The atmosphere in the garden was subtly eerie!

Du Chen patted Porter's shoulder. “His words are my words!”

For the third time since their meeting, Porter adjusted his spectacles and offered Yuna a faint smile. “The Princess's answer is – Steve's affair has absolutely nothing to do with you! And your question is: can my Lord Francis help you resolve the crisis of marrying far into McAllen – because your engagement to Salon has been established, and even if Salon is dead, you are still Prince Salon's widow, and must still go to McAllen to live out your days in widowhood, correct?”

Yuna, in turn, fixed Porter with a faint smile. “And your response to me is – you fundamentally do not believe that I am uninvolved in Steve's affair! Is that not so?”

With these words, she rose, shaking her head repeatedly. “Francis, believe it or not, while I indeed genuinely wished to eliminate Salon, Steve's affair is absolutely unconnected to me. I have said all I can. I must continue negotiating with the Empress Dowager to secure her help in escaping this crisis and confronting my brothers. I believe I cannot offer any further assistance, my apologies! I shall not see you out!”

Leaving the Empress Dowager's palace, they walked towards Saint Bovin Square. Du Chen glanced Porter up and down, his gaze peculiar. “Tell me, how credible are her words?”

Porter, from beneath his brow, looked back at Du Chen, a subtle glint in his eye. He offered a wry smile. “I choose to believe thirty percent; the other seventy percent, Yuna is lying to us! How much do you believe?”

Du Chen pursed his lips, his eyes darting furtively to the secluded surroundings. He cursed under his breath, “Not even one percent… I wouldn't believe it even if you killed me that this damned woman has no connection to my brother's affair! However, that's enough for today. We still have time; we'll investigate her thoroughly!”

“Damned woman?!”

Porter suddenly turned and urgently patted Du Chen's shoulder. “Francis, you think Yuna, a future queen, is a 'damned woman'?” ‘Aren't you supposed to like the queenly type?!’

“Indeed!” Du Chen nodded honestly. “I've been wondering lately, if Brother truly falls for a woman like that, what am I supposed to do? Call Yuna my sister-in-law? The very thought makes me choke with indignation!”

Porter suddenly stuck out his tongue playfully, then glumly trailed behind Du Chen like a bitter gourd.

After walking a considerable distance, he suddenly spoke. “Why do you dislike a princess like Yuna so much?”

“Heavens! Just think about it: isn't a woman who spouts political platitudes and immediately calculates your utility upon meeting you, utterly detestable?! Isn't a woman who is about to be married off to the great steppes, yet is still plotting how to use the Empress Dowager to deal with her rivals for the throne, a total scoundrel?!”

Du Chen spoke his true thoughts without any reservations towards Porter.

“Then, what kind of woman do you dislike the least?” Porter asked curiously.

Du Chen was momentarily stunned by the question. Porter truly had a knack for bringing up uncomfortable topics. The Precious Lotus Scripture has only reached its Fourth Trigram! Yet unconsciously, the women he had met in this life flashed before his eyes like a carousel. He couldn't help but shake his head.

Honestly, the women he'd encountered in this life had all been rather beautiful, leaving a favorable impression! However… they were all of noble birth, meticulous in everything they did, adhering to the aristocratic lady's demeanor. As for himself, a former hoodlum and thief, even if he felt some fondness or even moved by one of them, he couldn't possibly speak of 'love', could he?!

Du Chen rubbed his nose, pondering for a long time but still unable to formulate an accurate answer to Porter's question. He vaguely replied, “There isn't a 'least disliked.' But generally, as long as they aren't like Yuna, a two-faced politician, I don't really dislike them!”

“So, you prefer girls who are 'themselves'?” Porter quickened his pace to catch up with Du Chen, walking alongside him, head tilted as he observed him.

Du Chen chewed on Porter's words, then nodded decisively. “Yes, 'be themselves'! Porter, you truly are my sagacious strategist; your words are far more insightful than this thief's! Come on, we still have other clues to find!”

Porter lightly tugged at the collar of his thick, black, form-fitting undergarment, then gave a wry smile. ‘Be themselves, eh? Since donning this garment left by his ancestors, how long had it been since he truly felt like himself?’

‘To be himself, to be Hillmerya, to be… That genius little Demoness from the Goddess's Palace, who at three could recite the entire 'Treatise on the Populace,' yet at six used its strategies to singe her teacher's beard?!’

“No, no, some idiot might rub his nose till it aches!” Porter bit his lip, murmuring to himself. His smile… was even naughtier than Beibei's! And even cuter, truly adorable!

Night slowly descended upon Saint John City. Du Chen strode rapidly towards the Foreign Diplomatic Residence Quarter, greeting and smiling at commoners along the way. Meanwhile, behind him, Porter…

Followed with soft, quick steps like a kitten. His gold-rimmed spectacles slid down to the tip of his nose. A pair of glistening, large eyes watched Du Chen's back from beneath, mischievous and full of playful cunning.

The scene of the murder, the Foreign Diplomatic Residence in Saint John City, came into Du Chen's view. He turned back to call Porter, “Soon, I'll summon all the guards from that night for questioning. You… Porter, what are you laughing at? And why so strangely?”

Porter shrugged, the faint smile at the corner of his mouth vanishing instantly as he replied innocently, “Was I laughing?”

‘Strange, why does it feel like my cunning strategist is somewhat amiss?!’

As Du Chen pondered, a rumbling sound suddenly echoed in his ears. It sounded like galloping mounts, but not the thud of hooves. Following the sound, he saw a contingent of mounts unique to the Beastkin – enormous, bear-sized, covered in scaled armor, and sporting blood-stained fangs: Commando War Beasts!

The riders atop the War Beasts were all clad in heavy armor, their faces obscured. However, their mounts and imposing physiques clearly indicated to everyone that these were envoys of the McAllen Beastmen!

The Beastmen envoys galloped out from the Foreign Diplomatic Residence Quarter. They rode east along Fourth Avenue, turning south at the end of the street. By their route, their destination was clearly the Lanning Palace of Versailles!

His eyes briefly scanned the contingent of riders, and Porter frowned slightly. “Isn't this peculiar? McAllen's six great legions are currently pressing against Heaven's Ocean Pass, yet McAllen's Beastmen envoys dare to gallop wildly through the Lanning Imperial Capital… Even if it's customary not to execute envoys during wartime, to act so brazenly in an enemy capital, they must have some formidable backing!”

Just then, another contingent of Beastmen riders galloped out from the diplomatic quarter, also heading towards the Palace of Versailles. Porter nodded. “There are only two possibilities: first, McAllen has secured an undeniable advantage on the battlefield and already considers Lanning a defeated nation. Second, a truly influential figure from the Beastkin has arrived…”

Even as he spoke, a third contingent of Beastmen riders galloped past. Following them came a procession of carriages; the three contingents of riders before were merely clearing the path!

“An influential figure truly has arrived!” Du Chen murmured to Porter, observing the golden lion-emblazoned carriage at the heart of the procession. “It must be someone from the McAllen Royal Family or the Saint Baton Family. Among the Beastkin, only these two clans are authorized to use the golden lion as their emblem!”

Creak! The golden lion carriage suddenly halted on the main road not far in front of Du Chen. But swiftly, a furry hand emerged from the curtains, waved once, and the carriage continued its journey!

Du Chen turned and walked away. “Porter, let's return to the Cathedral. At this moment, for the Beastkin to send royal envoys to Saint John City, it must surely concern my brother's affair! Those savage brutes are capable of anything. Let's forgo questioning the guards for now, and instead return to find Ferdinand to keep a close watch on the Beastkin!”

Inside the golden lion carriage sat two Beastmen. One was a Beastman clad in heavy armor, resembling a Battle God, his face obscured by his helmet. The other was a fox-tribe individual with very low humanoid features, indicating his strength was also rather poor. He wore a black robe, his face aged, yet his spirit was vigorous.

“Arch-priest Kirilan, though Lanning and we are enemy nations, my Saint Baton Clan owes Francis a life debt! To meet him by chance on the street and not even offer a greeting, that is truly an insult to our bond!” The lion-tribe Beastman who spoke was none other than Du Chen's old acquaintance, Hawkins of the Saint Baton Clan!

The golden lion carriage had paused earlier precisely because he had recognized Du Chen!

The aged fox-tribe individual was McAllen's Arch-priest, Kirilan! He shook his head slightly. “This cannot be helped! The dual edict from the Saint Baton Family Head and Emperor Rebadon is of utmost importance, allowing for not a single oversight! Your esteemed self must conceal your identity and not appear publicly within Saint John City. At least, on the surface, this must be so!”

Though Hawkins still felt a twinge of regret, he did not refute Kirilan.

Kirilan's fox-like eyes glinted sharply as he pulled aside the carriage curtain to glance at the Palace of Versailles ahead. “Lord Hawkins, we are almost there. Then, according to our plan – I shall meet with Bargnar, helping you divert the guards of the Lanning Death Row Cells! Meanwhile, you and four Crimson Mausoleum Guards shall secretly infiltrate the Death Row Cells to investigate Steve!”

Hawkins emphatically struck his breastplate. “Rest assured, Arch-priest, as long as you can successfully divert half the guards, I will not fail!” He cursed indignantly, “These lowly Lanning people, not only did they murder my nephew Salon, but they even coveted his relics! Damnation, if not for our Beastkin's custom of secret royal sky burials, we truly wouldn't have discovered those scoundrel Lanning people took Salon's relics! Hmph, and thanks to those vultures who devoured Salon's corpse!”

Kirilan waved a hand slightly. “I have already stated, it is unlikely to have been done by the Lanning royalty; they simply do not know the importance of Crown Prince Salon's relics! Furthermore, after the murder, our nation's envoy had continuously guarded the Crown Prince's body. Bargnar's people in Lanning had no opportunity to act! Therefore… the Crown Prince's relics could only have been lost at the very moment of the murder. To retrieve them, we must, without alerting Lanning, ask you and the four Crimson Mausoleum Elder-Guards, who have exceptionally left the valley, to intervene!”

Hawkins continued to stare out the window. “Alright, we've reached the point of action. Arch-priest, rest assured, if possible, I will capture Steve alive and bring him back to our nation! Even if I cannot capture him alive, I will find a way to force the location of the relics from him!”

Hawkins and the four Crimson Mausoleum Elder-Guards proceeded to the Death Row Cells to investigate Steve. Meanwhile, in the old manor in Saint John City, Old Foye ventured out alone for a stroll, bringing no servants. He claimed he was going to meet old friends from the Charitable Foundation, not far away.

In Saint Bovin Square, Old Foye walked slowly, leaning heavily on his staff, trembling slightly. Elsewhere in the crowd, a middle-aged farmer led two young girls, appearing like a rural family visiting the city to see the world.

One of the girls spoke. “Master, Miss, my friends just told me that Steve is heavily guarded, with at least three hundred Battle Gods and Battle-Warriors, both overt and covert! Then… do we still need to see him with our own eyes?!”

Helen whispered, “To clear a prisoner's name, we must at least ascertain his current condition first! Father, since tonight we are only observing Steve's situation, Sulan and I should be sufficient. With our combined Secret Techniques of concealment, there should be no problem – after all, we're not attempting a frontal assault to rescue him!”

“Very well, I shall provide support outside!”