The first cold wind of the morning swept through the once-glorious Marquis Manor of Zhenguo, carrying the chill of early autumn.
With no doors or windows left to block it, the wind howled freely through the estate like a storm crossing an open wilderness.
“Achoo!”
A thunderous sneeze shattered the silence of dawn.
Sang Deben shivered violently and slowly opened his eyes, half-frozen and half-awake.
“Which useless servant left the windows open? Are you trying to freeze this Marquis to death?!”
Still groggy, he instinctively reached for the expensive Suzhou embroidered down quilt he thought should be covering him.
Instead, his hand sank into something cold, rough, and damp.
Mud.
A handful of foul-smelling yellow dirt.
Sang Deben froze.
His brain seemed to stop functioning for a moment.
Then he shot upright and rubbed his eyes furiously.
The luxurious yellow rosewood desk was gone.
The imperial calligraphy hanging on the walls was gone.
Even the carved wooden door that used to keep out the wind was gone.
Above him, several cracked roof tiles dangled precariously, threatening to fall at any moment.
Then he noticed something even more horrifying.
He was sprawled on the ground in a thoroughly undignified position.
The brocade robe embroidered with golden cranes was gone.
His inner garments were gone.
The mighty Marquis Zhen Guo’s State, one of the most powerful nobles in the Great Yin Dynasty, was wearing nothing except a thin pair of white underpants.
In the freezing wind, he shivered like a freshly plucked chicken.
“Guards! Servants! Someone!”
“There’s a thief! A thief!”
His shrill scream echoed through the ruined estate.
Scrambling to his feet, he suddenly heard an even more piercing scream nearby.
“AHHHHH! My clothes! Where are my clothes?!”
“Ghosts! There are ghosts!”
Looking down, he saw Sang Rourou sitting on the ground with her hair in complete disarray.
She was crying hysterically.
Her situation was no better than his.
The luxurious silk dress she had worn the night before had completely vanished.
Only a set of pink undergarments remained.
“Father!”
“Everything’s gone!”
Sang Rourou crawled toward him, sobbing uncontrollably while pointing at the empty surroundings.
Sang Deben felt darkness creeping into his vision.
His legs nearly gave out.
Forcing himself to stay upright, he staggered toward the underground treasury, the true heart of the Marquis Manor.
The moment he saw the vault doors standing wide open…
And the treasury beyond, so empty that not even a speck of dust remained…
His knees buckled.
Thud.
He collapsed onto the ground.
His eyes became vacant.
His soul seemed to leave his body.
Not long afterward, the entire Marquis Manor erupted into chaos.
The steward came running while weeping.
“Marquis! The kitchen’s been emptied!”
“There’s not a grain of rice left! Even the rats are starving! The onions in the vegetable garden have all been pulled out by the roots!”
The head of the guards dropped to his knees and began slapping himself.
“This subordinate deserves death!”
“None of us know what happened! We all fell asleep last night, and when we woke up, even our weapons were gone!”
Before he could finish, a senior maid from Qingya Courtyard stumbled over.
Her face was pale with terror.
“Marquis! Young Miss!”
“The canopy bed is gone!”
She cried so hard that tears and snot covered her face.
“The three carved wardrobes are gone!”
“All the tribute silks and Shu brocade inside them are gone too!”
“The dressing table, jewelry boxes, imported mirror…”
“Even the window curtains were ripped away!”
Sang Rourou’s eyes rolled back.
She nearly fainted on the spot.
Sang Deben stared at the estate around him.
What had once been a magnificent noble residence now resembled a disaster zone.
Then he looked down at the pitiful scraps of clothing still on himself and his daughter.
Suddenly, he threw back his head and wailed.
“This wasn’t a thief!”
“What kind of thief steals floor tiles and roof beams?!”
“This is divine punishment!”
“Divine punishment!”
“What sin did our family commit to anger the heavens?!”
Father and daughter clung to each other amidst the ruins of their unfinished-shell mansion and cried miserably.
By sunrise, they had become the biggest joke in the entire capital.
…
At the same time…
Inside the imperial palace.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
In the Hall of Golden Splendor, civil and military officials stood neatly in their respective ranks, waiting for the Emperor’s arrival.
Meanwhile, inside the Hall of Mental Cultivation…
Emperor Zongzheng Yuan spread his arms while two palace maids helped him into his bright yellow dragon robe.
He had slept exceptionally well.
Every time he thought about his troublesome Ninth Brother, the God of War Prince whose fame overshadowed his own, he felt immensely satisfied.
At last, he had framed him for treason.
At last, he had confiscated his property and sentenced him to exile.
“At the rate he’s going, that fool will die somewhere along the road.”
“Then this empire will truly belong to me.”
The Emperor gazed proudly at his reflection in the bronze mirror.
A smug smile crept onto his face.
Suddenly—
Hurried footsteps echoed outside.
The sound grew louder.
Then louder still.
The chief eunuch, Eunuch Li, burst through the doors like a rolling meatball.
His face was deathly pale.
Even his hat was crooked.
He threw himself to the floor and trembled violently.
“Y-Your Majesty!”
“Disaster!”
“The heavens have collapsed!”
The Emperor frowned.
Annoyance flashed across his face.
With one kick, he sent Eunuch Li tumbling.
“You useless fool!”
“Why are you wailing first thing in the morning?”
“My empire stands strong. How could the heavens collapse?”
Ignoring the pain, Eunuch Li scrambled back and slammed his forehead against the floor repeatedly.
His voice was filled with despair.
“The private treasury…”
“Your Majesty’s private treasury…”
The Emperor’s heart skipped a beat.
“What happened to my treasury?”
He grabbed Eunuch Li by the collar.
The eunuch burst into tears.
“It’s gone!”
“Everything’s gone!”
“The treasury has been emptied!”
“Outrageous!”
The Emperor slapped him across the face.
“My treasury is guarded by eight elite masters!”
“Not even a fly can get inside!”
“How could it possibly be emptied?”
“If you continue spreading such nonsense, I’ll execute your entire clan!”
“I swear it’s true!”
“Please see it for yourself!”
Without even fastening his dragon robe properly, the Emperor stormed out of the palace.
A large group of Imperial Guards followed behind him as he rushed toward the treasury.
Before reaching the entrance, he spotted the eight elite guards.
All of them were sprawled on the ground.
Sleeping.
Snoring loudly.
Like dead pigs.
His heartbeat accelerated instantly.
A terrible sense of foreboding seized him.
Shoving the soldiers aside, he kicked open the treasury doors.
The moment he stepped inside…
The Emperor froze.
His body stiffened completely.
His eyes bulged so far they nearly popped out of their sockets.
Gone.
Everything was gone.
The mountains of gold and silver he had spent decades accumulating.
Gone.
His favorite blood-jade coral trees.
Gone.
The hundreds of luminous pearls gifted by foreign kingdoms.
Gone.
Even the handwoven carpets covering the floors.
Gone.
The enormous treasury echoed with emptiness.
The only sound was his own ragged breathing.
This was his emergency reserve.
His secret fortune.
The wealth he intended to use to support the empire in times of crisis.
His life’s savings.
Buzz.
His mind went blank.
A surge of blood rushed to his head.
His entire body began trembling uncontrollably.
Then…
His gaze landed on the marble wall directly ahead.
There, written in bright red letters, were a few wildly arrogant words.
“Thanks for the treasury, my friend!”
Shock.
Rage.
Heartbreak.
Disbelief.
All exploded simultaneously.
The Emperor raised a shaking finger and pointed at the wall.
His throat emitted strange choking sounds.
“Find…”
“Find…”
Before he could finish speaking—
A violent pain stabbed through his chest.
His throat filled with blood.
PUFF!
A mouthful of dark blood erupted from his lips like a fountain, splattering across the stone floor.
“Your Majesty!”
“Summon the Imperial Physicians!”
“The Emperor has coughed blood!”
The Emperor’s eyes rolled back.
Then he collapsed backward.
The palace exploded into chaos.
Imperial physicians sprinted through the halls carrying medicine cases.
Military commanders received emergency orders.
The nine gates of the capital slammed shut.
“Seal the city!”
“Search every household!”
“Dig three feet into the ground if necessary!”
“Find the thief!”
“Once caught, tear them to pieces!”
Armor clattered.
Warhorses neighed.
The entire capital descended into madness.
…
Yet nobody knew…
While the city was being turned upside down in search of the culprit…
The true mastermind was already far away.
Thirty miles outside the capital.
At the gathering point for exiles.
The morning wilderness was bleak and cold.
Strong winds carried sand that stung people’s faces.
Together with the other members of the Ninth Prince’s household, Sang Wanwan was being herded forward like livestock by Imperial Guards.
Heavy iron chains bound her wrists and ankles.
Every step produced a dull clanking sound.
Not far away, atop a dusty slope, stood more than a dozen exile escorts.
They were rough-looking men with broad faces and sabers hanging from their waists.
The commander of the Imperial Guards tossed a roster toward the leader.
“I’m handing these prisoners over to you.”
“His Majesty has issued a special order.”
“These are serious criminals.”
“Make sure they suffer on the road.”
The lead escort caught the roster and grinned.
“Don’t worry, Commander.”
“Once they’re in our hands, we’ll make sure they wish they were dead.”
His name was Zhao Tieniu.
A brutal man with greed and cruelty written all over his face.
After seeing off the Imperial Guards, he slowly turned toward the prisoners.
His poisonous gaze swept across the crowd.
Then stopped precisely on Sang Wanwan.
Earlier, Sang Rourou had paid him a substantial sum.
His task was simple.
Torture this woman to death before they ever reached exile.
A vicious smile spread across Zhao Tieniu’s face.
He drew a thick leather whip from his waist.
The whip had been soaked in saltwater.
Sharp barbs lined its length, gleaming coldly beneath the morning sun.
Testing its weight in his hand, Zhao Tieniu strode toward Sang Wanwan with a savage grin.
The hunt…
Was about to begin.