「Dingbei Marquis Mansion.」

Lian Zhou hurried in from outside and cupped his fists in salute.

"Master, we’ve finished the investigation into the fire at the Han residence."

Shen Yanchuan’s head was lowered over a book. He didn’t even look up. "Oh?"

Lian Zhou opened his mouth to speak, but a hint of hesitation flickered across his face.

"The fire started in Han Yao’s bedroom. It most likely began when a candle accidentally set the curtains ablaze."

Shen Yanchuan hummed softly, as if he had expected as much.

Lian Zhou couldn’t hold it in. He lowered his voice and said, "But Han Yao was unconscious at the time, and very few people in the residence could freely enter his room. How could it be such a coincidence that the fire started there? And why did it take the servants so long to discover it?"

Shen Yanchuan froze and looked up. "What are you trying to say?"

"I was just thinking..." Lian Zhou’s expression was full of doubt. "Could this fire have been set deliberately?"

Shen Yanchuan raised an eyebrow. "You mean Su Pei’er?"

To be honest, Lian Zhou was reluctant to suspect a woman who had just suffered a miscarriage. But all the evidence pointed to the same conclusion, forcing him to consider it.

"I recall that Su Pei’er had a major falling-out with Han Yao before. If Miss Ye hadn’t intervened, she might have drowned herself and her unborn child in the lake. It’s hard to believe she doesn’t harbor any resentment toward him..."

Shen Yanchuan remained noncommittal.

"If that’s the case, why would she go to all that trouble to rescue Han Yao from the fire?"

Lian Zhou was taken aback.

’That’s right!’

’If Su Pei’er was bent on revenge, she could have just escaped by herself. Wouldn’t it have been better to let Han Yao die in the blaze?’

"You have a point, Master. In that case, it must have just been an accident—"

Shen Yanchuan cut him off, his voice calm. "Don’t forget. There was someone else in that room when the fire started."

’Someone else?’

"You mean... Han Yao? But he was already unconscious—"

Lian Zhou’s voice died in his throat.

The events of the past few days flashed through his mind in rapid succession.

The disparate pieces were strung together by an invisible thread, gradually forming a clear picture.

He drew in a sharp breath. "Don’t tell me this was all a trap he set from the very beginning!?"

’He used a fire to stir up old grievances and turn the tables on Ye Heng!’

’This way, regardless of the outcome, he could first save his father from the execution grounds. As for what came after—it wouldn’t be too late to look for another opening!’

"Is this his desperate gambit for survival?"

Lian Zhou could hardly believe it.

"Is he really capable of such cunning?!"

’Han Yao’s father is certainly capable, but Han Yao himself is a true, good-for-nothing dandy. This...’

Shen Yanchuan raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly, the barest hint of a smile touching his lips.

"If someone is willing to help him make such a gamble, he would naturally seize the opportunity."

A vague idea flickered in Lian Zhou’s mind, but before it could crystallize, he heard familiar footsteps from outside the door.

It was Yun Cheng.

He walked in, his expression subdued.

"Master, Mr. Feng is here to see you."

Lian Zhou was taken aback. "He came here on his own? That’s a rare sight."

Shen Yanchuan, however, merely gave a slight nod, seemingly unsurprised.

"Please show Mr. Feng to the front hall. I’ll be there shortly."

...

Feng Zhang stood up the moment he saw Shen Yanchuan.

"Princely Heir."

"You’ve been busy with official duties lately, Mr. Feng. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Feng Zhang’s brow was deeply furrowed. He hesitated, glancing from side to side before saying in a low, serious voice:

"Princely Heir, Zhou You is dead."