A fierce wind swept through the night.
The imperial palace of the Great Yin Dynasty loomed in the darkness like a sleeping beast, radiating authority, danger, and an almost suffocating sense of power.
Standing atop the now-bare wall of the Marquis Manor, Sang Wanwan gazed toward the palace in the distance.
A dangerous smile curved her lips.
Then she pushed off with the tip of her foot.
The powerful movement techniques she had mastered as a top-tier special agent in her previous life exploded into action.
Her figure became as light as a black owl gliding through the night sky, vanishing completely into the darkness as she raced toward the imperial palace.
Inside the palace grounds, security was airtight.
Guards stood watch every few paces.
Patrols moved constantly.
Imperial soldiers in heavy armor marched with blazing torches.
Ordinary people couldn’t even dream of getting close.
Not that it mattered to Sang Wanwan.
With her mastery of modern infiltration tactics and ancient martial arts movement techniques, the entire security system might as well not have existed.
Keeping to the shadows cast by the palace walls, she moved swiftly and silently, slipping past patrol after patrol.
The national treasury was heavily guarded, but it mostly contained mundane wealth, copper coins, bolts of cloth, and grain supplies.
Her target was somewhere else entirely.
The Emperor’s private treasury.
That was where generations of emperors had stored their personal collections.
Priceless treasures.
Foreign tributes.
The rarest artifacts in the world.
The old Emperor’s true secret vault.
About fifteen minutes later, Sang Wanwan landed soundlessly on the roof above the private treasury.
Like a ghost.
Carefully lifting a glazed roof tile, she peered down.
Eight elite Imperial Guards stood in perfect formation before the entrance.
Their eyes were sharp.
Their hands rested on the hilts of their sabers.
Every one of them radiated the presence of an expert fighter.
“As expected of the old Emperor’s treasure vault.”
“Even the watchdogs are impressive.”
Sang Wanwan sneered inwardly.
Then she pulled a specially modified spray bottle from her space.
Inside was her upgraded formula.
A highly concentrated medical ether mixed with powerful sedatives.
One breath was enough to knock out an elephant for three days.
After checking the wind direction, she pulled the stopper and gently pressed the nozzle.
Hiss…
A colorless, odorless mist drifted downward with the breeze.
Less than ten breaths later, the two guards standing in front rubbed their noses.
Their eyes immediately became unfocused.
Thud! Thud!
Without a single warning, both men collapsed to the ground.
“What happened? There’s…”
A guard behind them reached for his weapon.
But before he could finish speaking, his brain shut down.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
One after another, the elite guards toppled like dominoes.
Moments later, all eight of them were sprawled on the ground snoring loudly.
Sang Wanwan dropped lightly from the roof.
As casually as someone kicking pebbles off a path, she nudged the unconscious guards aside.
Then she stood before the massive bronze doors of the treasury.
Hanging from the doors was an enormous Luban lock nearly the size of an adult’s head.
Its mechanism was notoriously complex.
Legend claimed only a specially forged golden key could open it.
Attempting to force it would trigger hidden poison-arrow traps.
“That’s it?”
“You think this can stop me?”
She rolled her eyes.
Pulling out a thin black wire, she bent the tip into a strange shape and inserted it into the lock.
One ear pressed against the cold metal.
Her fingers moved slightly.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Three seconds later—
Snap.
The so-called greatest lock under heaven sprang open.
“No challenge whatsoever.”
She casually tossed the massive bronze lock into her space.
Then she planted both palms against the doors and pushed.
Creeeeak…
The enormous bronze doors slowly swung open.
The moment they did, dazzling light burst from within.
The treasury wasn’t lit by lamps.
Yet it shone brighter than daylight.
Sang Wanwan instinctively narrowed her eyes.
Then she sucked in a sharp breath.
“Good grief.”
“Did this old bastard dig up every dragon vein in the empire?”
The private treasury was enormous.
At least three times larger than the Marquis Manor’s treasury.
The first thing she saw was gold.
Mountains of gold.
Mountains of silver.
Not stored in chests.
The bars and ingots were stacked into enormous pyramids like building materials, glittering so brightly they almost hurt to look at.
Beside them stood rows upon rows of purple sandalwood display shelves.
On those shelves sat luminous pearls the size of eggs.
Hundreds of them.
Their glow illuminated the entire treasury like daylight.
“Now that’s what I call rich.”
“If I took these to the modern world, one pearl could probably buy half the capital.”
Sang Wanwan rubbed her hands excitedly.
Her eyes gleamed with undisguised greed.
“Since the dog Emperor wants to make my life miserable, I might as well drain his retirement fund.”
“Store!”
The moment the command left her mind, the immense absorption power of her Level 2 space erupted.
Whoosh!
Entire mountains of gold and silver vanished instantly.
The treasure piles disappeared into her warehouse.
Then Sang Wanwan transformed into a ruthless bulldozer.
“Pigeon-blood ruby bracelet? Store!”
“Two-meter blood jade coral tree? Store!”
“Foreign musical box? Store!”
“Golden silk armor? Store!”
“Legendary sword that cuts iron like mud? Store!”
She moved through the treasury like a hurricane.
Wherever she passed, nothing survived.
Priceless treasures.
Rare artifacts.
Even the premium wooden display shelves.
Everything disappeared into her space.
Soon she reached the deepest section of the treasury.
The medicinal repository.
The air was thick with the scent of herbs.
Hundreds of temperature-controlled jade boxes crafted from top-grade Hetian jade were arranged neatly throughout the area.
Sang Wanwan casually opened one.
Inside lay a blood-red ginseng.
Its roots were perfectly preserved.
“Thousand-year blood ginseng.”
“Excellent.”
She opened another.
“Top-grade Tianshan snow lotus.”
“Mine.”
Another.
“Humanoid fo-ti root.”
“Mine too.”
As a once-in-a-generation ancient martial arts poison doctor, Sang Wanwan loved rare medicinal ingredients even more than gold.
With a sweep of her hand, she emptied the entire section.
With these herbs and the newly unlocked Spirit Spring, even if the King of Hell personally came to collect someone during exile, she’d drag them back from death herself.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the once-overflowing imperial treasury had become completely empty.
Not just the treasures.
Not just the gold.
Sang Wanwan even took the Persian handwoven carpets covering the floors.
The pure gold braziers used for heating.
The bronze wall lamps used for lighting.
Everything.
The place was so thoroughly cleaned out that even a rat wandering inside would probably curse its bad luck and leave immediately.
Standing in the center of the enormous empty hall, Sang Wanwan nodded with satisfaction.
“Now that’s more like it.”
She turned to leave.
Then suddenly stopped.
A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.
“If I leave like this, what if the old Emperor doesn’t cough up blood tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t that make me seem terribly impolite?”
A wicked smile spread across her face.
Turning around, she walked toward a pristine white marble wall.
She had neither brush nor ink.
But that wasn’t a problem.
Without hesitation, she bit her fingertip.
A droplet of bright red blood emerged.
Using her finger as a brush and blood as ink, she circulated her inner energy and began writing across the wall.
Bold.
Arrogant.
Wild.
Every stroke radiated confidence and dominance.
When she finished, she stepped back and admired her masterpiece.
Written across the spotless marble wall were six enormous characters:
“Thanks for the treasury, my friend!”
“Perfect.”
“This should send his blood pressure through the roof.”
Chuckling to herself, Sang Wanwan turned and strode out of the treasury.
She had just pulled the bronze doors nearly shut when a distant sound drifted through the silent palace grounds.
Dong…
Dong…
The mournful ringing echoed through the night.
A eunuch’s sharp voice followed.
“Dry weather, beware of fire…”
Dawn was approaching.
“Time to clock out.”
Dusting off her hands, Sang Wanwan leaped into the air once more.
Like a streak of black lightning, she silently cleared the towering palace walls.
Without alerting a single soul, she crossed half the capital and returned to the dilapidated woodshed outside the Ninth Prince’s residence.
The two Imperial Guards she had knocked out with ether earlier were still sprawled outside the door.
Snoring like pigs.
Quietly pushing open the broken wooden door, she slipped inside.
In the corner, atop a pile of straw, Zongzheng Zhan was curled up despite his towering frame.
The legendary God of War Prince.
The man rumored to be ruthless and bloodthirsty.
Now reduced to a simple-minded fool.
At the moment, he was clutching half of a stale, dirty steamed bun.
A tiny trail of drool hung from the corner of his mouth as he slept peacefully.
Sang Wanwan walked over and lay down beside him without the slightest hesitation.
Naturally, she grabbed one of his strong arms and pulled it into her embrace.
Using it as a pillow.
Then she closed her eyes.
Soon her breathing became slow and steady.
Outside the window, the first rays of dawn began tearing apart the darkness hanging over the capital.
No one knew.
Not a single person.
That beneath the peaceful surface of the sleeping city, an utterly merciless robbery had taken place the night before.
A faint smile curved Sang Wanwan’s lips even in her dreams.
The real show…
Was about to begin.