The sycamore leaves of the Prince's Palace, gilded by the autumn sun, rustled into a transparent gilded foil, scattering across the ground, creating winding golden lines on the blue bricks. Shen Weiwan squatted in the corridor, her balsam-red nails scratching the verdigris-stained locks of the old wooden box, the peeling paint falling onto the hem of her skirt. Keng Keng lay at her feet, his dirty little hands fiddling with a rusty abacus, the clatter of beads mingling with his giggles. The little girl was stuffing dried croton seeds into Xiao Yu's Duan inkstone, the ink splattering on the hem of her lilac skirt like a handful of scattered gold.
"If you dare to add anything to my writings again," Xiao Yu tapped Wa Wa's palm with his wolf-hair brush, his dark sleeves sweeping off a few sycamore leaves, "I'll throw you into the Croton fields south of the city to keep you company with Aunt Liu."
"Mom!" Kengkeng suddenly held up a roll of oil paper with crooked lines painted on it with cinnabar. "There's a circle in this broken painting!"
The moment Shen Weiwan took the parchment, her fingertips trembled violently. She was all too familiar with the vigorous brushstrokes—the handwriting of General Shen Lie, the guardian of the nation! In the center of the map was a matchbox-like cellar, with the words written in cinnabar beside it: "Opened by my daughter, Shen Weiwan. Dig this up and you will gain a lasting legacy."
"A foundation for eternity?" Xiao Yu leaned closer, nuzzling the sweet-scented osmanthus flowers in her hair. "Could it be the general's hidden treasures?"
"My father?" Shen Weiwan raised an eyebrow, her fingertips poking at the crooked cellar on the map. "He used to take his military pay to the gambling house to exchange for dice, and he also hid gold? Let's go dig for treasure!"
Three days later, a three-meter-square earthen pit appeared in the back garden of the Prince's mansion. Under the bright autumn sun, a man wielded a shovel taller than a man, flinging mud until Xiao Yu's brocade robe was covered in specks of mud. Wa Wa squatted beside the pit, collecting stones from a bamboo basket, humming a self-composed ballad: "The croton is fragrant, the pit is strong, and the enemy cries out for help once it's spread!" Chun Tao squatted under the shade of the locust tree, holding a kettle. The old housekeeper, leaning on his cane, shook his head, his silver beard trembling like a reed in the autumn wind: "Madam, if this is really an empty cellar..."
"Don't worry," Shen Weiwan wiped the sweat off her face, the silver hairpin in her hair stained with black soil, "even if my father hides cat feces, he has to hide it in a nine-square pattern for me."
The shovel in the pit suddenly struck something hard with a clang. They scraped aside the loose soil, revealing the bluestone cellar entrance. The musty smell mixed with dust assaulted their faces. Shen Weiwan lit a torch and went down. In the flickering flames, she saw a sandalwood box carved with Taotie patterns on the central stone platform. A half-spider web clung to the corner of the box, trembling slightly in the flames.
"Dad! If you have hidden gold bricks, I will burn a whole box of gold ingots for you next year!" She opened the lid of the box and was stunned on the spot - there was no gold or silver inside, only a thread-bound book with the cover engraved with "Memoirs of My Forefathers Who Cheated People" in official script. Next to it was a letter with the edges of the letter paper scorched black, as if it had been burned by fire.
"My son Weiwan wrote this to me personally," Shen Weiwan unfolded the letter, the ink emitting a dark red glow in the firelight, "your father knows that you have a fiery temper, and I'm afraid you'll be schemed against by villains, so I've hidden this treasure. It's not pearls or jade, but a secret technique passed down from our family ancestors to deceive people..."
Xiao Yu flipped open the book. The first page showed a general in full armor, holding a white flag. Next to it was a crooked inscription: "Our ancestor, Shenkengdeng, deceived the Northern Di army with a false letter of surrender in the third year of Jianwu. When we returned, we gave each of them a bag of croton seeds as a 'farewell gift.'"
"Pfft..." Shen Weiwan laughed so hard that she squatted on the ground, the torch almost burning her eyebrows. "Why did my father name our ancestor Chenkengkeng? If this is recorded in the family tree, won't our ancestors crawl out of their graves and kick his ass?"
Kengkeng immediately raised his hand, his chubby face flushed red: "Mom! From now on, I'll be called Chenkengkeng too!"
Wawa jumped up, her pigtails sweeping across the cobwebs on the cellar ceiling. "My name is Shen Wawakeng! I have one more hole than my brother!"
Xiao Yu flipped to the second page. A picture depicted a scholar throwing beans into a wine jar, accompanied by a caption: "In the first year of Jinghe, the Second Generation God of the Shenkeng Sect used croton seeds to soak wine and entertained envoys from an enemy nation. This event became known in history as the 'Battle of Diarrhea.' The enemy troops remained in their camp for three days, their legs weakening at the mere smell of croton seeds."
"Hahaha!" Shen Weiwan laughed so hard she slapped her thigh. The torch illuminated the walls of the cellar, revealing a dense tapestry of figurines: some digging holes to bury croton seeds, some carving jade seals out of sugar cakes, and still others sprinkling powder into the enemy camp's toilets. "So this trickery of mine is inherited from my ancestors! I was wondering why I was born to stuff my aunt with mud and grains!"
Suddenly, there was a "crack" and a piece of dirt fell from the cellar roof, hitting Xiao Yu's hairpin squarely. He rubbed his forehead, which was hurt by the blow, and the ebony hairpin was almost tilted. "Madam, I'm afraid this cellar hasn't been repaired in a hundred years. Let's go up first."
Back on the surface, Shen Weiwan clutched the book, refusing to let go, even reading it while she ate dinner under the sycamore tree. "Look at this 'false imperial edict to trap the Prime Minister' trick, using sugar cakes to carve the imperial seal! And this 'castor bean blocking the gate to trap the enemy' trick, soaking the beans and stuffing them into the cracks of the city gate. When they expand, they can push the gate over!"
That night, Shen Weiwan put the book's "toilet trap" into practice. The next morning, Xiao Yu emerged from the toilet with dark circles under his eyes, his fingers shaking like leaves in the autumn wind. "Shen Weiwan! How much croton powder did you sprinkle into my toilet?! From the hour of Mao to the hour of Chen, I made eight trips!"
"Your Highness, calm down," Chen Weiwan blinked her innocent eyes, opened the book and pointed it at him, her jade fingers stroking the yellowed pages, "Look, this is the 'marital harmony technique' passed down by our ancestors, called 'The Method of Prolonging Life by Tricking the Husband'. The book says 'Only after a husband has gone through a hundred pits can he live a long life'. Look how rosy your complexion is now."
Xiao Yu: "..."
Three days later, someone from the palace arrived with a message: the envoy from Southern Chu had clamored in the Golden Throne Hall, challenging Da Sheng to a contest of strategists' wisdom. Chen Weiwan snapped the book shut, placed a freshly picked osmanthus flower in front of the mirror, and replaced the silver hairpin in her hair with a jade hairpin engraved with croton flowers: "It's a great opportunity to test out my ancestral craftsmanship!"
In the Golden Palace, the Southern Chu envoy stroked his goatee and spoke with a proud air. Behind him, a red-robed strategist held up a bamboo slip and said, "Our dynasty has a strategist who is eloquent and can compete with your country's think tank!"
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