Chapter 12
Lower reaches of the Huai River, Heishiji.
The late autumn river breeze, carrying a biting chill, whimpered over the jagged black rocks, stirring up muddy waves that slammed against the charred remains of shipwrecked planks scattered along the shore. The air was thick with the indissoluble smell of burning, blood, and the distinct fishy odor of the river. The horrific attack that had occurred a few days earlier, under the cover of night, seemed to have been swallowed by the river, leaving behind only devastation and a dead silence, silently telling of that unknown massacre.
About thirty miles from Heishiji, deep within a seemingly ordinary fishing village nestled by the river, stood a humble blue brick courtyard. The gates were locked, yet security was tight within. Several figures in dark grey garb, their auras stern, like stone sculptures blending into the shadows, silently guarded a closed room at the far end.
The light in the wing room was dim. The strong smell of herbs mixed with the stench of blood was suffocating. On a simple wooden bed lay a man. He was wrapped in blood-soaked linen bandages, his exposed skin an ominous bluish-gray hue. His cheeks were sunken, his lips were chapped and peeling. His breathing was as weak as a candle in the wind, and each labored gasp was accompanied by a wheezing sound like a broken bellows, as if it would cease completely at any moment. It was none other than Ge Ping, the accountant from the burned-out Cao Gang fast ship, the only one seriously injured and overboard who had been rescued by Shadow Scale at a desperate risk.
An old doctor, trained in the Xiangfu and specializing in trauma and detoxification, his forehead beaded with beads of sweat, was concentrating intently as he slowly and precisely inserted a slender silver needle into acupuncture point on Ge Ping's head. Beside him, Mo Ya stood still in the shadows like a cold sculpture, his stern gaze fixed on Ge Ping's dying face.
The last stitch dropped.
Ge Ping's body trembled violently, as if struck by an invisible electric current! Under his tightly closed eyelids, his eyeballs rolled violently several times, and a painful, strangled roar emanated from his throat!
"Uh... ho... ho..."
His eyelids struggled to pry open, revealing cloudy, unfocused eyes filled with immense pain and confusion. His consciousness, like a fragment sunk into the deep sea, was being forcibly dragged back into this shattered body by a powerful force.
"Ge Ping!" Mo Ya's voice was like an icicle, instantly piercing Ge Ping's confused consciousness, "Look into my eyes!"
Ge Ping's distracted gaze shifted with difficulty, meeting Mo Ya's emotionless, abyssal eyes. A tremendous fear instantly seized upon his remaining sanity! He wanted to struggle, to scream, but his body felt like it was filled with lead, unable to move even a finger. Only hoarse, desperate sobs emanated from his throat.
"What was that ship carrying?" Mo Ya's voice was low and cold, with undeniable penetrating power. Every word was like a hammer hitting Ge Ping's nerves on the verge of collapse. "Seven camphorwood boxes! What's inside?! Who sent you to transport them?! Who attacked you?!"
"Ship...ship..." Ge Ping's cracked lips trembled, and he uttered a voice as weak as a mosquito, "...salt...salt decoction...and...account...account..."
"Salt permit? Account book?" Mo Ya's eyes narrowed. "What account book? Whose account book?!"
"No...it's not just the salt permits..." Ge Ping's consciousness seemed to be torn apart by a huge fear, and his words were intermittent and incoherent, "...iron...iron...fine iron...mixed in...the salt bags...it's...it's what the north...the north wants...'black goods'...which can't be seen in the light..."
Salt? Refined Iron?! North?!
Mo Ya's heart was pounding! The Jiangnan salt permits had always been a source of lucrative profits, but also a hotbed of corruption! And refined iron was a strategic commodity strictly controlled by the imperial court, with large-scale illegal trafficking strictly prohibited! Especially... to the "north"? To the Northern Di?!
"Who ordered this?!" Mo Ya's voice suddenly turned harsh, filled with chilling murderous intent. "Are the guards on the ship members of the Cao Gang? Who gave you the box?! Tell me!"
"Yes... yes..." Ge Ping's body twitched violently due to extreme fear. His breathing became more rapid, and the bluish-gray color on his face became darker. "...Mr. Fu-tai... no... no... it's... it's the 'Yun Ze Society'... Mr.... Mr. Zhou... he... he and the Fu-tai... and... and..."
His voice became weaker and weaker, his eyes began to blur, as if he had seen an extremely terrifying scene, and his pupils suddenly contracted!
"...Ghosts...Ghosts...They...are coming...To silence us...All...must die..." Ge Ping's eyes widened suddenly, and with the last bit of his strength, he let out a shrill, yet inaudible scream like a night owl:
“Yun… Yunze… will—!!!”
The last word seemed to have drained all his life force, and he stopped abruptly! His bloodshot eyes, filled with endless fear, stared into space. His body jerked upright, then collapsed like a deflated bag. The last faint rise and fall of his chest vanished completely.
The room fell into a dead silence, with only the faint crackling of the burning wick as the only sound.
Mo Ya slowly stood up straight, his expressionless face devoid of any emotion. Only a hint of cold understanding flashed through his dead eyes. He glanced at the rapidly losing warmth of the body on the bed, then at the solemn old healer beside him.
"Clean it up. Erase all traces." His voice was like the friction of cold iron.
"Yes." The old doctor whispered.
Mo Ya did not stay any longer, but turned around and left the room filled with the breath of death silently like a ghost blending into the shadows.
Shengjing City, within the palace walls.
The chill of late autumn had seeped into every brick and stone of the palace. In the western warm room of Qianyuan Palace, the silver charcoal in the animal-headed copper cauldron burned brightly, emitting a warm red glow, but it still couldn't dispel the invisible, heart-wrenching solemnity in the air.
The emperor sat at his desk, a smeared memorial spread out before him. He didn't examine it closely, his fingers unconsciously twirling the tassel of the Nine Dragon Jade Pendant at his waist. His gaze wandered, as if awaiting something. On the desk, a cup of freshly brewed Junshan Silver Needle tea emanated wisps of steam, its delicate fragrance filling the air.
Wang Defu, standing by, stood solemnly, hands down, eyes on his nose, nose on his heart, not daring to breathe. He knew that His Majesty was waiting for someone. Someone His Majesty both relied on and deeply feared.
"Prime Minister Gu is here——!" A eunuch's shrill voice came from outside the hall.
The emperor's fingers, twisting the tassel, suddenly paused. He quickly adjusted his sitting position, trying to make his expression appear more calm and natural. However, the complex emotions that flashed through his eyes—scrutiny, fear, and even a subtle hint of flattery—revealed his inner unrest.
Gu Linzhi appeared at the door. Still dressed in his dark, watery uniform, he walked with a steady, imposing presence. He bowed and saluted, "Your Majesty, I, Gu Linzhi, pay my respects."
"Mr. Gu, please excuse yourself and take a seat." The emperor's voice was filled with deliberate enthusiasm. He pointed to the brocade stool that had been prepared beside the imperial desk. "Wang Defu, serve tea to Minister Gu."
Gu Linzhi sat down as he was told, his posture calm, his eyes calmly facing the emperor.
"Your Excellency Gu toils day and night, devoting yourself to the country. I am deeply troubled." The emperor took a sip of the teacup before him, seemingly weighing his words. "I summoned you here today to address the follow-up relief efforts and river repairs to the Jiangnan floods. I am very pleased with your wise management. Secondly..." He paused, forcing a slightly stiff smile. "The Xie case has wide-ranging implications, shocking both the government and the people. Fortunately, your Excellency Gu has turned the tide and restored order. Now that the situation is beginning to stabilize and much remains to be done, it is time for the ruler and his subjects to unite and work diligently to govern the country. I... have considered this over and over again, and I wish to grant you a favor as a token of my honor."
Favor? Honor?
A barely perceptible coldness flashed across the depths of Gu Linzhi's eyes. He lowered his eyes slightly, waiting for the next words.
The emperor observed Gu Linzhi's reaction and, seeing that he remained calm, he calmed down a bit and continued, "I heard that you, Gu Qing, are still single and have no one to look after you. The eldest daughter of the Duke of Anguo is gentle, virtuous, talented and beautiful, and in her prime. I would like to personally act as a matchmaker and arrange a marriage for you. This way, I can not only fulfill your family wishes, but also show my sympathy for meritorious officials, and it can also... appease the people of the court. What do you think?"
Grant marriage!
The eldest daughter of Duke Anguo!
Like a huge rock thrown into a seemingly calm deep pool, it instantly stirred up cold ripples in Gu Linzhi's heart!
The Duke of Anguo, a clear-minded figure among the nobles, seemingly neutral, yet in reality possessed complex and delicate ties with the Jiangnan salt merchants and the Grand Canal transport system. His eldest daughter? Gentle and virtuous? Talented and beautiful? How could the emperor be showing any sympathy for a meritorious official? Clearly, he was attempting to use a political marriage to place a pair of eyes and a check on Gu Linzhi! He was using the marriage to soften and contain this already unsheathed, sharpened sword! Furthermore, he was sending a signal to the court and the people: while Prime Minister Gu held immense power, he remained under the control of the imperial majesty!
"To appease the government and the people"?
What is at peace is probably the emperor's own heart, which is being gnawed by suspicion and fear day and night!
Gu Linzhi slowly raised his eyes. His gaze remained calm, like an eternally cold pond, reflecting the temptation and calculation in the emperor's eyes, which he tried hard to conceal but was still clear.
"Your Majesty, I am deeply grateful for your kindness." His voice was low and steady, without a trace of emotion. "However, the remains of the loyal souls in the north are still lingering, the devastation of the floods south has not yet healed, and the long-standing corruption in the government still needs to be rectified. This is a time of deep worry for me, and I cannot sleep or eat. I cannot bear to be distracted by my thoughts of my family. The daughter of the Duke of Anguo is a precious treasure, and I, a lonely and aloof minister, fear that I am not a good match for her. I would be wasting my life trying to make her my own. I beg Your Majesty to... revoke your order."
reject!
Clean! Sharp! No room for maneuver!
Without even using any euphemisms, he directly pointed out that the country was in turmoil and he had no interest in family. He even said frankly that he had a "cold temperament" and was not a good match!
The air in the warm room froze instantly!
The emperor's smile froze completely, like a cheap clay mask. His fingers, gripping the teacup, trembled slightly from the exertion, and the lid and rim made a faint clinking sound. A surge of anger, a mixture of feeling contradicted and slighted, mixed with a deeper fear, instantly surged into his heart like a poisonous fire! He stared intently at Gu Linzhi's calm, unwavering face, as if trying to detect a hint of hypocrisy or hesitation, but all he saw was a bottomless coldness.
"Gu Qing..." The emperor's voice was filled with a hint of suppressed anger and a barely perceptible dryness. "This is my good intention, and it is also... it is also out of consideration for the stability of the country. Duke Anguo..."
"Your Majesty," Gu Linzhi's voice calmly interrupted the emperor, but beneath that calmness lay a force like an invisible hammer. "The stability of our country depends on clear laws, disciplined administration, the pacification of border troubles, and the well-being of the people. It does not depend on a woman." He paused slightly, his gaze like an icy probe, as if piercing the emperor's robes and reaching the fear deep within his soul. "In all I do, I seek only to be worthy of Your Majesty, worthy of the country, and worthy of... the blood debt I have already paid. As for my family, it is a private matter. I dare not trouble Your Majesty with my concerns, nor do I dare... to affect the political situation with this private matter."
Every word is reasonable! Every word is heartbreaking!
The phrase "not related to a woman" directly negates the emperor's political intentions in conspiring to arrange marriages! The word "private matter" draws a clear line: the emperor has no right to interfere! The final sentence, "I dare not use this private matter to affect the political situation," carries a chilling warning!
The emperor's chest heaved violently several times, his face turning from pale to red, and then from red to blue. He suddenly slammed the teacup in his hand down on the imperial desk!
"Bang!"
Tea splashed everywhere! The jade cup lid rolled to the ground with a crisp shattering sound!
"Gu Linzhi! You...!" The emperor's voice trembled with utter rage. He stood up abruptly, pointing his finger at Gu Linzhi, his eyes brimming with rage, nearly bursting forth! He wanted to rebuke him for his arrogance! He wanted to question whether he still regarded him as his father and king!
However, when he met Gu Linzhi's calm, yet bottomless eyes, which seemed to contain the blizzards of the North and the murderous might of swords and spears, all the anger that surged to his lips was abruptly stuck in his throat! A chill from the depths of his soul instantly extinguished all his anger, leaving only cold fear and... powerlessness.
Gu Linzhi slowly stood up. Under the flickering candlelight in the warm room, his dark figure stood tall as a solitary peak, solemn as a mountain. He didn't look at the furious and frightened emperor again, but simply bowed deeply in the direction of the throne.
"If your Majesty has nothing else to do, I will take my leave."
With that, he turned, his steps steady and composed, just as he had come, and silently left the oppressive warm room. The heavy palace door gently closed behind him, isolating the suffocating silence and the emperor's heavy breathing within.
Wang Defu was already pale with fear. He fell to his knees and trembled as he picked up the broken porcelain and tea on the ground.
The emperor slumped back onto the throne, his strength drained from him. He gazed toward the palace gate where Gu Linzhi had vanished, his eyes filled with frustration, anger, and... a deeper, gnaw-like fear. His attempt at marriage had been crushed in the most direct and cold manner. Far from placing shackles on this lone sword, he was instead driven to the point of utter disgrace by the other party's undisguised sharpness.
"Yunze Club...Yunze Club..."
A name like the tongue of a poisonous snake flashed through the emperor's confused thoughts, but was completely overwhelmed by his huge frustration and fear at the moment.
Prime Minister's Residence, "Quiet Observation" Study.
The candlelight blazed brightly. Gu Linzhi stood before a massive map of Dayong, his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed gravely on the network of rivers south of the Yangtze River, outlined in cinnabar. The Huai River, Black Rock Rock… Ge Ping's dying screams still lingered in his ears.
Mo Ya stood silently in the shadows, reporting in a cadenced voice: "...Ge Ping's words before his death: 'Yun Ze Hui', 'Master Zhou', 'the prefect', 'fine iron', 'the north', 'contraband'... The clues point clearly to Zhou Kang, the Jiangnan Dao Transport Commissioner; Zhao Wenbi, the Hangzhou Prefect; and... Zhou Shihong, the head of the Jiangnan Salt Merchants Association. These three, while publicly disassociated from the Xie Yong case, are in reality Xie Yong's true pawns, controlling the lifeblood of Jiangnan's salt and iron industries. The 'Yun Ze Hui' is suspected to be the core secret society, specializing in the transportation of 'contraband'."
Gu Linzhi's fingertips gently touched the location of Hangzhou Prefecture on the map. His fingertips were cold.
Salt permits, refined iron, the Northern Di... this black chain of profiteering is far more vast and deadly than imagined! Although Xie Yong has fallen, the roots of this poisonous vine entrenched in Jiangnan, sucking the nation's lifeblood deep and its tentacles far exceed expectations! The seven camphorwood chests on Ge Ping's ship are just the tip of the iceberg! And the attackers... clearly want to take advantage of Xie Yong's downfall and the rupture of the old chain to swallow this huge piece of fat meat and erase all traces!
"Where is Zhou Shihong?" Gu Linzhi's voice was cold, without a trace of emotion.
"According to a secret report from Shadow Scale," Mo Ya's voice was equally icy, "Zhou Shihong secretly left Hangzhou three days ago and has been on a mysterious journey. The leader of his largest gang, the Tongyuan Canal Gang, and several of its core leaders were feasting on a West Lake pleasure boat last night when it suddenly caught fire and exploded! The leader and the other leaders present... were all killed! The Tongyuan Canal Gang, leaderless, has fallen into internal turmoil!"
Kill and silence! Destroy the gang and seize power!
Quick! Ruthless! Absolute!
This is no ordinary case of gangsters robbing gangsters! The attack on Ge Ping's ships and the bombing of the Tongyuan Cao Gang's pleasure boats—such precise and ruthless tactics must be orchestrated by a well-organized and powerful force! They're not only trying to seize Xie Yong's "legacy," they're also...reshaping the underground order of Jiangnan!
Gu Linzhi's deep eyes flashed with a cold light like a glacier suddenly cracking! He slowly turned around and walked to the desk. On the desk, the black iron talisman that symbolized the highest order of the Prime Minister's Mansion glowed with a cold luster in the candlelight.
He picked up his brush, dipped it in thick ink, and with a flick of his brush, he wrote three large characters on the snow-white rice paper, their strokes so powerful that they could be seen through the paper:
Yunze Club!
The writing is sharp and murderous!
"Send an order." Gu Linzhi's voice echoed in the deadly silence of the study, like a sharp sword unsheathed, carrying a chilling force that could freeze everything. "First, Shadow Scale's elite troops are dispatched to Jiangnan. Target: Zhou Shihong! Alive or dead... or dead! Anyone who has close contact with him, regardless of whether they are officials or businessmen, is under surveillance!"
"Second," his eyes fell on the three large, ink-stained characters, "mobilize all our hidden contacts within the Cao Gang, at all costs, to control the remaining forces of the Tongyuan Cao Gang! Find out the truth behind the explosion of the pleasure boat! Find the mastermind behind the attack on the Black Rock Ji ship and the bombing of the pleasure boat!"
"Third," he tapped the three characters "Yun Ze Hui" with his fingertips, making a soft thudding sound. "Secretly send the names of Zhou Kang, the Jiangnan Dao Transport Commissioner, Zhao Wenbi, the Hangzhou Prefect... and all the officials involved with the Yun Ze Hui and the illegal salt and iron trade to Feng Zijing in the Censorate, along with any clues to their crimes. Tell him that the water in Jiangnan... must be completely cleaned up."
"Yes!" Mo Ya accepted the order in a deep voice and retreated silently into the shadows.
Inside the study, candlelight flickered. Gu Linzhi's gaze once again drifted to the devastated and undercurrent-filled Jiangnan region on the map. The emperor's offer of marriage, like a withered leaf dropped into a deep pond, failed to stir a single ripple in his heart.
The real storm is not in the palace of Shengjing, but thousands of miles away, in the Jiangnan waters that are soaked in salt and iron interests and bloody killings.
Beneath the embers, a new wave of turmoil rises. This time, the lone spearhead points to the center of a deeper, darker vortex.
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