Chapter 4
The abandoned well in Changlefang, which had swallowed the secret box and three lives, festered like a bleeding wound beneath the silent skin of Shengjing City. Soldiers from the military headquarters cordoned off the dilapidated courtyard. Under dim torchlight, the coroner examined the cold corpse. Low voices and suppressed panic, like an invisible tide, quietly permeated the streets. However, this surface commotion was but a tiny foam on the surface of the deep water.
The real undercurrent surges in deeper and darker places.
Prime Minister's Residence, "Quiet Observation" Study.
The candlelight was dim, and the ticking of the clepsydra was particularly clear in the dead silence, like some kind of cold countdown. Gu Linzhi sat in the deep shadow cast by the rosewood armchair, his fingertips silently tapping the cold armrests. Tap... tap... tap... each gentle sound felt like hitting a taut bowstring.
Mo Ya knelt silently in front of the table, like a shadow peeled off from the wall.
"Master," he said in a flat, emotionless voice, "A assassin from the Xie Mansion, codenamed 'Owl,' has been seriously injured and taken refuge in the backyard of the 'Huichuntang' pharmacy in the south of the city. The owner of the pharmacy is a spy planted by the Xie Mansion years ago, skilled in treating injuries. 'Shadow Scale' has deployed troops all around, waiting."
"The abandoned well in Changlefang has been sealed off since midnight last night by the City Patrol Division, with Zhao Qi, Deputy Commander of the Military Division, personally in charge. Twelve sentries and four covert agents are in plain sight. However," Mo Ya lowered his head imperceptibly, "there are signs of freshly turned soil three feet around the well mouth. Despite efforts to conceal it, the traces remain. The well... is empty."
Gu Linzhi's tapping fingertips paused for a very slight moment.
null.
This outcome wasn't unexpected; it was actually one of the moves he'd deliberately orchestrated. Before his death, Shen Qi threw the secret box into the abandoned well. This seemingly desperate act of destruction was actually a risky move laid by Gu Linzhi—a bait, a trap to test the Xie family's reaction and strength. He needed Xie Yong to believe that the damning evidence was within his grasp, and even more so, to force the Xie family's hidden fangs to the surface.
Now, the fangs were bared. Xie Yong's reaction was swift, precise, and ruthless. He even mobilized a hidden agent who had been hiding in the pharmacy for years to treat the seriously injured soldier. Furthermore, under the heavy "guards" of the military command, he unnoticedly removed the secret box from the bottom of the well. This energy and efficiency confirmed his judgment of the Xie family's unfathomable power.
"Got it." Gu Linzhi's voice was as calm as a frozen lake. "Keep a close eye on Huichuntang and that 'Owl.' I want to know where he'll go and who he'll meet after he recovers. Also, find out which hand in the Military Affairs Department took the secret box for the Xie Mansion last night." His eyes fell on a file on the flood disaster in the south of the Yangtze River, his fingertips lightly brushing over the name "Zhao Qi"—the deputy commander of the Military Affairs Department who personally commanded Changlefang. "Dig deeper into Zhao Qi's background."
"Yes." Mo Ya responded, and his figure quietly disappeared into the shadows.
Silence returned to the study. Gu Linzhi slowly leaned back in his chair, immersing himself more deeply in the darkness that symbolized boundless calculation and cold determination. The candlelight flickered in his deep eyes, casting two cold, icy stars. The secret box had been taken from the Xie residence, implying that Xie Yong had seized control and possessed the potentially fatal evidence. But Xie Yong would never have imagined that what he had taken might actually be a carefully disguised poison bait.
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In the south of the city, there is the "Huichuntang" medicine shop.
During the day, the place was filled with the fragrance of herbs, and people came in an endless stream to get medicine and seek medical advice, creating a peaceful atmosphere. However, in the secret room deepest in the backyard, the strong smell of blood and the bitter aroma of wound medicine filled the air.
A small oil lamp flickered dimly. On the earthen kang in the secret room, the killer codenamed "Owl" lay facedown, his face pale as gold paper, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat. His naked torso was wrapped in blood-soaked linen bandages. A deep, bone-deep knife wound slashed diagonally from his left shoulder to his right ribs, a gruesome sight. Every weak breath strained the wound, bringing piercing pain. He clenched his teeth, blood seeping through them, and a suppressed, bestial roar emanated from his throat.
The shopkeeper, a lean, sturdy old man with an unusually calm gaze, carefully changed the bandages on him. His movements were skillful and steady, as if he were dealing with an object in need of repair, not a dying person. As the bandages were peeled back, the twirled flesh and faintly visible bones were a horrifying sight. The old man didn't even frown, meticulously cleaning the edges of the wound with a cotton cloth soaked in strong alcohol.
Owl's body convulsed violently in pain, and he snapped his eyes open. Those once cold, sharp, and murderous eyes were now filled with only pain and a hint of death. He stared at the old man intently, forcing out a few broken syllables from his throat: "Box... box..."
The old man's hands continued to move, his voice low and hoarse, with the indifference of someone who saw through life and death: "Thank you for what you asked. The things have been delivered safely to the mansion. Just focus on recovering from your injuries, and don't ask about anything else."
The cloudiness in Owl's eyes seemed to brighten for a moment, then was drowned by deeper agony. His throat rolled, as if he were about to say something, but in the end, he simply closed his eyes dejectedly, leaving only his heavy, painful gasps echoing in the small chamber. He had completed his mission, almost at the cost of his life. As a sword, his value seemed exhausted.
The old man continued his work expressionlessly, carefully applying the pungent black ointment to the wound. The only sounds in the secret room were the subtle smears of the ointment being applied and the fading groans of pain from the Owl.
In the front hall of the pharmacy, the clerk dispensed medicine, still smiling. Across the street, an elderly woman saddled with needles and thread, hunched over. At the corner of the alley, a man pushing a wheelbarrow selling firewood leaned against the wall to rest his feet. At a tea stall not far away, two seemingly casual customers kept glancing toward the pharmacy's back door. The invisible net had already quietly tightened.
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Xie Mansion, Songhezhai.
This place was a stark contrast to the spacious and grand front yard of the Xie Mansion, feeling more secluded and ancient. The courtyard was small, but filled with verdant pines and cypresses, their branches twisted and strong, exuding a refreshing coolness even in the height of summer. Inside the study, the light was softened and hazy by the plain white window paper covering the high windows. The air was filled with the clear, distant aroma of fine agarwood, blending with the unique, soothing fragrance of ink and paper from aged scrolls.
Xie Yong wasn't seated at the spacious rosewood desk, but stood with his hands behind his back before a massive bookshelf. Crafted from the finest golden nanmu wood, the shelves neatly stacked not with the usual collections of classics, histories, and miscellaneous texts, but with volumes wrapped in silk and labeled with year and region, like countless dormant secrets. He wore a plain silk shirt, his figure slender, his back blurred in the hazy light, yet he exuded a profound and imposing presence.
He was playing with an object in his hand.
It was a sealed box made of fine steel, slightly smaller than a palm. It was pitch black, cold and heavy to the touch. Its surface was devoid of any decoration, save for a few perfectly fitted seams and a few incredibly ingenious, peculiarly shaped keyholes, revealing the complexity and robustness of its internal structure. It was the sealed box that Shen Qi had risked his life to protect, that ultimately sank into the abandoned well, and that was then retrieved by the Xie Mansion's death squad!
Xie Yong's eyes were calm, his fingertips slowly tracing the cool surface of the box, as if sensing the murderous intent and weight within. He wasn't in a rush to open it. Was the object thrown by that mad dog, Shen Qi, a life-saving talisman or a death warrant? Was it a weapon powerful enough to drag Gu Linzhi down with him, or was it a poisonous bait carefully laid by Gu Linzhi? He needed to judge.
“Knock knock.”
There was a gentle knock on the door, with cautious respect.
"Come in." Xie Yong did not turn around, his voice was flat.
A middle-aged man in a dark grey steward's uniform, with a face so ordinary he'd be hard to spot in a crowd, quietly pushed the door open. It was none other than Xie An, one of Xie Yong's most trusted figures. He quickly walked three steps behind Xie Yong, bowed, and lowered his hands, speaking in a very low voice:
"Master, Xiao's life is saved, but his injuries are too severe, his internal organs are damaged, and his martial arts skills are useless. Old Wu said that he needs to rest for at least three months."
Xie Yong didn't pause as he stroked the secret box, only uttering a faint "hmm," as if he had just heard something insignificant. A useless knife wasn't worth dwelling on.
"Also," Xie An's voice lowered, with a barely perceptible solemnity, "The Shadow Scales have left traces around Huichun Hall. There are at least four groups of people targeting Xiao, and their methods are clean and well hidden."
Xie Yong's fingertips paused slightly on the cold box.
"Shadow Scales"... Gu Linzhi's eyes, hidden in the deepest shadows. As expected, they never relaxed. The situation in Changlefang might seem like the Xie family had reclaimed the secret box, but in reality, every move was still under Gu Linzhi's watchful eye. It felt like walking on a knife's edge, watched by countless cold eyes.
A faint, almost invisible chill passed through Xie Yong's clear eyes. He slowly turned around and gently placed the secret box on the desk with a soft "click".
"Got it." Xie Yong's voice remained steady, without a single ripple. "Tell Old Wu to move the troops to Qiushan Villa. Tell the people below to cut off all connections to Xiao and Changlefang last night. Including that Zhao Qi..." He paused, his eyes sweeping over the copy of the memorial on the Jiangnan flood on the desk, his tone flat and calm, "His position as deputy commander is too secure."
"Qiushan Villa" is the Xie family's secretive property outside Beijing. It's nominally a summer retreat, but in reality, it's where they handle matters that aren't meant to be seen in public. The phrase "cleanly cut off" means that all traces of the situation and any insider knowledge will be completely eradicated. Zhao Qi, the deputy commander of the military, regardless of whether he truly "helped" last night, is a pawn in Xie Yong's eyes, ready to be discarded. His "peace of mind" is over.
"Yes." Xie An's heart trembled, and he immediately agreed. He knew the significance of "cutting off completely" in his master's words.
"Also," Xie Yong's gaze fell back on the secret box on the desk, and a trace of inquiry finally appeared in his eyes, as deep as an ancient well. "Go and ask 'Ghost Hand Zhang' to come. Quickly and secretly."
"Ghost Hand Zhang," a strange individual whose very name evokes a sinister aura. Legend has it that his ancestors were imperial locksmiths, specializing in all manner of ingenious mechanisms and mastering unconventional techniques. He possesses hands capable of seeing in the dark and delicate enough to embroider, yet he also possesses a sinister and treacherous nature, prioritizing money over friendship. He is a terrifying shadow in the underworld of Shengjing City.
A flash of understanding flashed in Xie An's eyes. The master was going to ask this extraordinary person to open the secret box! It seemed that the master was determined to obtain the contents of the box, but he was also very cautious and did not dare to open it easily with ordinary methods, fearing that there was a trick.
"Yes, I will do it right away." Xie An did not dare to delay and bowed and retreated.
The study door closed silently. Inside Songhezhai, only Xie Yong was left, along with the cold, ominous secret box on the desk.
Xie Yong slowly walked to the window and stood with his hands behind his back. Outside, the branches of the pine and cypress trees swayed gently in the breeze, casting a dappled, dark cast. His gaunt face was expressionless, except for his deep, unfathomable eyes, which reflected the twilight outside and the secret box on his desk, like a timed fire bomb.
Gu Linzhi...what on earth did you hide in this box?
Is this ironclad evidence enough to nail the Xie family to the pillar of shame? Or is it a carefully planned killing plot, waiting for Xie Yong to personally trigger it?
This chess game has spread from the thousands of miles of turbulent waves in the south of the Yangtze River to the heart of Shengjing City. Every step is treading on the edge of an abyss.
Xie Yong's fingertips unconsciously twirled the smooth white jade ring in his sleeve. The warmth was palpable, but it couldn't warm the cold calculations and... the chilling murderous intent that pressed on him, a chilling threat he himself didn't even want to delve into.
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In the prime minister's residence, quietly observe the study.
The bright candlelight dispelled the night outside the window. Gu Linzhi wasn't at his desk, but rather before a massive map of the entire Great Yong region. The map showed the dense network of rivers and streams south of the Yangtze River, Shengjing at its heart, and the vast expanse of the northern border. His gaze, like a hawk circling in the sky, slowly swept across these familiar landscapes, finally resting lingering on the vast expanse of frozen earth in the north, specially circled in cinnabar ink and marked with the words "The Place Where the Jingbei Army Martyred."
Fourteen years.
The loyal bones and wronged souls buried beneath that land never lost their hold on his heart. The floods and corruption in Jiangnan, Shen Ziqing's madness, the Xie family's fangs... the roots of all this, entwined like poison ivy, ultimately burrowed deep into the deliberately concealed bloody snowstorm fourteen years ago.
Qing Feng was like a silent iron tower, standing in the shadow in the corner of the study, his aura blending into the shadow.
"Qing Feng." Gu Linzhi's voice rang out in the empty study, breaking the silence.
"I'm here." Qing Feng immediately took a half step out of the shadows and bowed in response.
Gu Linzhi didn't turn around, his gaze still fixed on the distant northern border on the map. His voice was slow and cold, with a texture of metal clashing:
"Invite General Han to your residence for a chat. Just say…" He paused, as if weighing his words, each one weighing a thousand times. "Just say that I, Gu, have some old matters concerning the Jingbei Army that I need to consult with the general in person. The time is… three days from now, at midnight."
General Han, Han Zhenshan! Former deputy commander of the Jingbei Army, one of the few senior generals to survive that brutal battle! He was also the only remaining commander in the Northern Frontier Army whom Gu Linzhi could trust with absolute confidence! For fourteen years, Han Zhenshan had retired due to a serious injury, refusing to see visitors and rarely interfering in the affairs of the court. Now, Gu Linzhi was secretly trying to mobilize this long-dormant commander!
Qing Feng's heart was pounding! Was his master... going to lift the iron curtain that had been sealed for fourteen years?! He suppressed the turmoil in his heart and said in a deep voice, "Yes! I will do it myself! I will ensure that everything goes smoothly!"
"Hmm," Gu Linzhi replied calmly, as if explaining a trivial matter. He slowly raised his hand, and with a force as heavy as a mountain, his bony fingertips gently tapped the cinnabar-circled patch of frozen ground in the north on the map.
Where the fingertips fell, it seemed as if the sound of golden swords and iron horses could be heard faintly, the sound of the howling wind and snow echoed in the ears, and there were countless unwilling heroic souls shouting silently!
"Also," Gu Linzhi's voice rang out again, this time with a knowing clarity and icy determination. "Inform our people at the Censorate. At tomorrow's court session, if anyone brings up the Jiangnan flood case again, especially... if anyone dares to use the word 'thorough investigation' to suggest that Prime Minister Gu's disciples are forming a clique and suppressing dissidents," he tilted his head slightly, the candlelight illuminating his stone-hard profile. A glint of coldness flashed in his eyes like a knife. "Then have them hand over copies of all the old files on the transfer and allocation of military supplies from the northern border that Shen Ziqing handled during his tenure at the Ministry of Revenue. Especially... the records of the final three batches of military rations entering the warehouse in the winter of the eleventh year of Tianyou, which 'accidentally'... left a few pages on Chen Bingzhi, the Censor."
Qing Feng's pupils suddenly shrank! Winter of the eleventh year of Tianyou! That was the eve of the Jingbei army's food shortage, the death of thirty thousand soldiers in the snow! Shen Ziqing had served in the Ministry of Revenue's Warehouse Department that year! The master was trying... to use the enemy's strength against the enemy, to divert the blame! If a fool like Chen Bingzhi got his hands on these highly suggestive "old files" and was goaded by someone with ulterior motives, he would most likely pounce on them like a mad dog, just to gain a reputation as "unafraid of the powerful"! And if the target of the attack was the old military supply issues in the north, it would be like throwing a spark directly into the old warehouse full of gunpowder that Xie Yong was most reluctant to touch!
This wasn't just a court struggle; it was about exposing the dusty murder case in broad daylight! It was about forcing Xie Yong to make a more insane and potentially revealing choice between "keeping Chen clear and covering up a new crime" and "having a fourteen-year-old case dug up"!
"I understand!" Qing Feng's voice was tinged with a subtle awe and awe. His master's move was ruthless, yet it also precisely struck at the enemy's most vulnerable spot.
Gu Linzhi stopped talking, turned around again, stood with his hands behind his back, like a silent iceberg, staring at the mountains and rivers that carried so much blood, tears and secrets.
In the study, the candlelight flickered, casting his shadow on a huge map, covering the water network of Jiangnan, shrouding the palace of Shengjing, and finally, pressing heavily on the vast frozen land of the northern border.
The storm is no longer limited to the torrents of Jiangnan and the dark alleys of Shengjing.
In the old case of fourteen years ago, the souls of thirty thousand dead soldiers are about to become the heaviest and sharpest pieces in this chess game.
Dark clouds covered the sky of Shengjing City, and thunder was brewing deep in the clouds.
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