Chapter 20

Inside the Golden Throne Hall, it was as silent as a tomb.

Emperor Zhao Heng's roar was like hitting an invisible wall of steel, echoing and dissipating in the huge palace in vain, leaving only his heavy, bellows-like breathing and the dead silence of the entire palace, where people were still in shock and holding their breath.

Gu Linzhi's words "I will go to Jiangnan in person" were not loud, but they were like an invisible hammer, hitting the stagnant air, hitting everyone's heart, and even hitting the nerve endings of the emperor on the dragon throne!

Ask for permission? Go to Jiangnan in person?

Zhao Heng's entire body stiffened, as if frozen. His outstretched finger was still pointed stiffly at Gu Linzhi, and the fury and frantic accusations on his face froze in an instant, replaced by a deeper expression of astonishment, disbelief, and a chilling chill.

He had expected Gu Linzhi to make excuses, to evade responsibility, and even... to offer a plea. He had only imagined that he would be so calm, so straightforward... to volunteer! In Jiangnan, the place where his imperial envoy had just been poisoned, in the center of this bloody, dangerous vortex!

A profound sense of absurdity and an even deeper fear, like a cold poison ivy, instantly wrapped around Zhao Heng's heart. Gu Linzhi was going to Jiangnan? What was he going to do? Was he going to clean up the mess he had messed up? Or... to completely erase all traces, making that land truly his own? Shen Mo's blood hadn't even cooled yet, and he was going to tread upon it to "purge the evil spirit"?

Zhao Heng's lips trembled. He wanted to rebuke him harshly, to flatly refuse! He wanted to ask: You're going? If you go to Jiangnan, who will check and balance you? Hasn't this Shengjing court become your backyard, Gu Linzhi?! He wanted to roar: Did you instigate Shen Mo's death?! Are you trying to take this opportunity to completely control Jiangnan?!

Yet, all his turbulent thoughts, all his pent-up rage and fear, vanished instantly when they met Gu Linzhi's calm, unfathomable eyes, like boiling water poured over snow. There was no smugness, no defiance, not even a trace of emotion in those eyes. Only a cold, all-knowing calmness. It was as if all of Zhao Heng's struggles, all of his suspicions, all of his fears, had been anticipated by him, and all seemed... so ridiculous and futile.

Refuse? What reason could he have for refusing? The crisis in Jiangnan was a fact, Shen Mo's sudden death was a fact, and the imperial court's authority was shattered! Gu Linzhi was the Cabinet's chief minister, personally appointed by His Majesty as the "overall assistant"! He had volunteered to go to the dangerous place and quell the chaos. For both public and private reasons, for both reason and emotion, Zhao Heng couldn't find the slightest reason to refuse! To force a refusal would only make him, the emperor, appear narrow-minded, unkind, and even... guilty!

A huge, completely controlled feeling of powerlessness, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed Zhao Heng. He felt like a puppet controlled by invisible strings; no matter how hard he struggled, he would eventually be pulled into the position set by the other party.

"You...you..." Zhao Heng's throat rolled as he squeezed out a few words with difficulty. His voice was dry and hoarse, and he was weak as if all his strength had been drained away. "Jiangnan...is dangerous..."

"Your Majesty," Gu Linzhi interrupted calmly, his voice steady as a rock. "Jiangnan is a major tax-collecting region for the imperial court, the lifeblood of the country. With Censor Shen's death, the scoundrels are running rampant. If we hesitate any longer, we risk causing unrest and destabilizing the nation." He raised his eyes slightly, scanning the silent officials in the hallway before returning to Zhao Heng's sallow face. Every word he spoke was as clear as ice: "Your Majesty, I have no choice but to fulfill my duty."

The words "duty unshirkable" struck Zhao Heng's heart like four heavy hammers, hammering down upon every court official's heart. Indeed, besides the all-powerful and resourceful Prime Minister Gu, who else would dare, who else could tackle the seething bloodbath of Jiangnan? Who could maintain control in such a treacherous place, where even the imperial envoy would be murdered in public? Who could guarantee they wouldn't become another Shen Mo?

An invisible pressure, like a tangible mountain, weighed heavily on the throne. Zhao Heng felt it was difficult to breathe, his chest felt tight and ready to explode. He looked around. The important officials who usually spoke eloquently and quoted from classics were now all looking at each other, their heads tucked into their court robes. No one dared to look up to meet his gaze, and no one dared to speak out against Gu Linzhi's request.

A lonely man.

For the first time, Zhao Heng felt the chilling weight of those four words so clearly. He, the supreme ruler, at this crucial moment determining the fate of the southeastern empire, couldn't find a single official he could rely on, someone who dared to speak up, or, in other words... someone willing to stand before Gu Linzhi's brunt!

A great sadness and a deeper fear seized him.

"Approved..." Zhao Heng's voice was like a sigh, squeezed out from between his teeth with a kind of weakness and resignation that was completely drained. "The chief minister of the cabinet, Gu Linzhi, will be given... the title of imperial commissioner, and granted the royal flag and banner, in charge of the military and political affairs of Jiangnan, with the power to make arbitrary decisions! You must... make sure to purge the treacherous officials, stabilize the place, and find out the truth about Shen Mo's murder, to... to comfort the loyal soul!" He almost gritted his teeth to read out the last four words, and each word was bloody.

"Your Majesty, I accept your command and thank you." Gu Linzhi bowed, his movements steady and smooth, without the slightest hesitation. His voice remained calm, as if he was not receiving an imperial decree granting the power of life and death, or control over Jiangnan, but rather an ordinary official business.

After the ceremony, he stood up. His dark figure, illuminated by the candlelight in the hall, stood tall and straight like a peerless sword unsheathed. He didn't glance at the distraught emperor on the dragon throne. His eyes swept calmly across the still silent court, as if silently declaring:

Jiangnan is his.

Then, he turned, his dark robe sleeves brushing against the cold, smooth gold bricks. With steady steps, he approached the massive palace door that symbolized the pinnacle of power. Every step he took seemed to tread on the tense hearts of the entire palace, and on the shattered dignity of Emperor Zhao Heng.

That back figure, in the empty and magnificent Golden Throne Hall, under the focus of countless complex gazes, seemed so lonely, yet so... unstoppable.

"Quiet Observation" study.

The doors and windows were tightly closed, keeping out the chill of late autumn. The flickering candlelight cast Gu Linzhi's silent figure on the plain white wall behind the desk, like a dormant giant beast.

Mo Ya stood silently in the shadows, his voice rigid and rigid, with a barely perceptible tension. "Prime Minister, urgent news from Jiangnan's 'Shadow Scale.' Shen Mo wasn't completely silent before his death. Two hours before he arrived at the headquarters, he secretly summoned someone."

Gu Linzhi's pen-holding hand hovered above the Xuelang paper, a dot of thick ink condensed on the tip of the pen, but it hadn't yet fallen. He didn't look up, only said lightly, "Who?"

"Zhou Shihong's residence. The old housekeeper, Zhou Fu, who 'died suddenly of illness' the night before the fire at Zhao Wenbi's residence." Mo Ya's voice was like an icy cone. "Shen Mo, by some unknown means, dug this 'dead man' out of the mass grave and secretly detained him in an abandoned cemetery outside the city. As soon as Shen Mo's poison had taken hold in the lobby of the headquarters, the cemetery... caught fire. The two close associates of Shen Mo who were guarding it, as well as Zhou Fu... were all reduced to charcoal."

The ink drop from the tip of the pen finally fell, spreading a dark black on the snow-white paper.

"Silence him." Gu Linzhi's voice was calm, without any emotion. "It's cleaner than Shen Mo's death."

"Yes." The muscles on Mo Ya's stern face tightened imperceptibly. "But before the fire started, a brother ventured in and found this object among the wreckage of the charity cemetery." He stepped forward and gently placed a charred, twisted piece of metal tubing, about the length of a pinky finger, on the desk. There were fine spiral patterns on one end of the tube, and the inner wall seemed to still linger with a faint, strange, sweet, and fishy smell.

Gu Linzhi put down his pen, picked up the charred metal tube with two slender fingers, and brought it close to the candlelight. The flames danced, reflecting his bottomless eyes.

"The Northern Di 'Beihong Whistle'." His voice was low, with a hint of cold confirmation. "It's neither metal nor iron, but it has a mechanism inside. When blown, it sounds like the flapping of a poisonous bee's wings. It can transmit messages a hundred miles away, or... it can also attract certain special poisonous insects or poisons."

In the study, the candlelight seemed to dim for a moment, and the air suddenly became sticky and cold.

"How could Zhou Fu, an old butler who died suddenly, have the secret weapon of the Northern Di 'Phantom' on him?" Mo Ya's voice was filled with murderous intent. "What did Shen Mo find out that would make him expose this weapon so as to eliminate him and Zhou Fu together?"

Gu Linzhi gently placed the cold "buzzer whistle" back on the table, and his fingertips unconsciously tapped on the cold tabletop, making a light tapping sound.

"Shen Mo... is a mad dog, but he has a keen nose. He's sensed the Northern Di behind the 'Yunze Society.' This whistle is a warning, but also... a sign." He slowly raised his eyes, his gaze piercing through the tightly closed window, as if falling on the bloody and fiery Jiangnan thousands of miles away. "It seems that our 'friend' hiding in the dark not only enjoys the scent of wisteria, but also has a close connection with the 'Snow Spider Pavilion' of the Northern Di royal court."

He paused, and his voice suddenly turned cold, like the icy wind from Siberia:

"Send an order."

"First, all the 'Shadow Scales' in Jiangnan are to go dormant. No one is allowed to move without a death order. Shen Mo's death was a test. They want to see how many fish are still hiding under the waters of Jiangnan."

"Secondly," his gaze fell back on the charred "Beep Whistle," "use our deepest 'ice line' in the northern border to investigate! Investigate all unusual movements related to the 'Snow Spider Pavilion' and the 'Beep Whistle' over the past three years! Investigate all possible channels that could flow into Jiangnan! Investigate any possible 'nests' of the 'Phantom' in Jiangnan!"

"Third," Gu Linzhi stood up, his dark figure elongated in the candlelight, like a bird of prey about to pounce. "Prepare the boat. Pack light and leave the capital at dawn tomorrow."

"Yes!" Mo Ya accepted the order in a deep voice and retreated silently into the shadows.

In the study, candlelight flickered. Gu Linzhi stood before a map, his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the blood-soaked and fire-soaked land of Jiangnan. The clash in the Imperial Palace was a foregone conclusion, but the bloody curtain in Jiangnan had only just begun to rise. Shen Mo's blood, Zhou Fu's ashes, the charred remains of the Northern Di whistle... all silently spoke of a single truth: those entrenched in Jiangnan were far more than just greedy mobs and desperate criminals.

It was a poisonous vine that came from the northern border, planted deep in the south of the Yangtze River, and sucked the nation's blood... Its true roots were far deeper, farther, and more deadly than anyone imagined.

"Some lines," Gu Linzhi's low voice rang out in the silent study, like the low hum of a lone sword before being unsheathed, "it's time to break."

Outside the window, the night was as dark as ink, bottomless. The smoke of Shengjing's political intrigue hadn't yet cleared, while the bloody maelstrom of Jiangnan had already yawned. And the chess player, finally, would personally journey to the center of the storm, to sever the roots of the poison ivy that lay deep within the darkness.