The sound of iron armor surged from all directions like a tide.
It wasn’t just one or two people, but hundreds.
Boot soles stomped on the bluestone bricks, the sound muffled yet uniform, as if imperial soldiers were drilling in formation.
But they weren’t imperial soldiers.
Their faces were masked with black cloths, their blades flashing like snow.
Without asking questions or giving reasons, they slaughtered everyone in sight.
The Protectors snatched up their weapons and charged forward, fighting desperately to protect their masters at the cost of their lives.
Blood splattered across the red silk, making it impossible to distinguish the festive red from the crimson gore.
Grandmother emerged from the main hall, leaning on her ebony cane.
Her attire and makeup were immaculate, and her white hair whipped fiercely in the wind.
“Who are you insolent madmen, daring to break into the Wei Mansion and commit murder?!”
No one answered.
A blade slashed down right at her face.
Grandmother did not retreat.
She stood at the doorway of the main hall like an ancient tree with centuries-old roots—unshakable by the wind, unbreakable by the blade.
“Ming Ke,” Grandmother called out mother’s name.
“Take the children and go!”
Yin Zhao was suddenly yanked into her mother’s arms and shoved toward the backyard.
“Mother—”
“Be good.”
Yin Zhao whipped her head around and realized her older sister had somehow stepped out of the wedding sedan.
She was standing right beside her, still dressed in a bright red wedding gown but with her phoenix coronet removed, gripping the short sword at her waist.
“Sister?”
“Go.” Yin Shuang’s voice was pressed so low it was almost inaudible.
“Hurry.”
With no time to think amid the chaos, Yin Zhao was dragged toward the backyard by her sister.
As she ran through the corridors, she heard the sounds of doors being smashed, angry curses, wailing cries, and the thud of blades hacking into flesh echoing from the front courtyard.
The sounds were dull and repetitive, like axes chopping into half-dried wood.
She shivered violently, her foot slipping as she nearly fell.
Yin Shuang grabbed her tightly, her nails digging so deeply into Yin Zhao’s wrist that the pain almost brought tears to her eyes.
“Don’t look back,” Yin Shuang said, her voice trembling.
“Zhaozhao, don’t look back.
Follow me.”
They rushed through the winding corridors, across the floral hall, and past the Plum Garden, finally pushing open the heavy wooden doors of the Wei Family Ancestral Hall.
The ancestral hall was solemn and dim, the eternal lamps flickering in front of the Agarwood Goddess Statue.
“Go.” Yin Shuang pushed her forward.
The base of the Goddess Statue was a solid block of granite, polished so smoothly that no seams were visible.
Mother squatted down, pressing her fingertips sequentially against the third petal of the lotus carving and the seventh curve of the cloud pattern, before finally placing her palm flat against the joint where the base met the floor.
CLICK.
The bluestone base slid open silently, revealing a hidden door just wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways.
It was perfectly square with sharp edges, looking as though it had grown naturally out of the solid rock rather than being chiseled later.
This mechanism was commissioned by the Wei family ancestors and crafted by a renowned mechanism master from Jinling.
Three triggers were arranged in a triangle, their hidden tenons interlocking seamlessly.
If the sequence or palm print was incorrect, a locked copper pin would shoot out horizontally, permanently jamming the hidden door without leaving a single trace.
“Zhaozhao, hide inside.”
Wei Yinzhao shook her head, her tears splashing onto the bluestone floor.
“I won’t go!
I want to stay with you—”
“Zhaozhao!” Mother suddenly raised her voice.
Dressed in a pale lotus-root jacket, her hair still perfectly pinned, she shoved a Qilin Copper Order into Wei Yinzhao’s arms.
She pressed her thumb fiercely against the back of the girl’s hand, gripping so hard it felt like she was digging into the bone.
“Remember—you are the Wei Family’s daughter chosen by the Goddess to carry on our lineage.
You must strictly obey the ancestral teachings, staking your very life on it.”
“Mother…”
Fifteen-year-old Yin Zhao trembled all over, her tears dropping onto the copper order, scaldingly hot.
She wanted to rush out, to save her grandmother who was surrounded by armed men, to save the family who had cherished her since childhood. This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
Yet, her mother pinned her firmly against the hidden door, rendering her unable to move a single step.
“Yin Shuang.” Mother turned her head to look at Wei Yinshuang standing beside her.
Wei Yinshuang was two years older than her.
Her brow was as cold as frost, her wedding dress as red as blood.
Her fingertips rested on the hilt of her blade, trembling slightly.
She didn’t cry.
She just quietly watched their mother, waiting for orders.
Mother’s gaze swept over the faces of her two daughters, finally landing on Wei Yinzhao.
Her voice was as light as snow, yet it carried the weight of a mountain.
“The entire Wei family can die, but the thousand gold blood must never be extinguished.”
Yin Shuang did not hesitate.
“Yin Shuang understands.
As the eldest daughter, it is my duty to protect the heir.”
Wei Yinzhao jerked her head up, her tears instantly breaking like a ruptured dam.
“No!
I don’t want to—”
“Shut up.” Yin Shuang spoke abruptly, her voice so hoarse it was almost shattered.
She reached out and pressed the top of her little sister’s head, guiding the girl’s face into her shoulder just as she had done countless times before.
“Zhaozhao, be good.
Her sister’s fingertips were cold, yet they carried an irresistible force.
As long as you live, the Wei family is not truly dead.
Only if you survive will the deaths of the rest of us be worth it.”
Mother turned her head away, no longer looking at them, and raised a hand to wipe a single tear from the corner of her eye.
“There is food and water in the secret chamber, and the copper key in your bundle can unlock the mechanism.
In three days, someone will naturally come to pick you up.
You will go with him.
Change your surname, disguise your face, and travel south to find your uncle.
He will settle you.”
Unable to bear the parting, she gently rubbed the back of her fingers against Yin Zhao’s cheek, over and over.
“Child, no matter what you hear or see later, you are not allowed to make a sound, and you are not allowed to cry.”
“Mother—Sister—”
Yin Zhao wanted to say more, but Yin Shuang shoved her inside.
Her vision went black.
The last thing she saw was the back of her sister, turning away in her wedding gown.
Like a moth darting into the flames, like a lone crane diving into the forest.
Her sister didn’t look back.
Neither did her mother.
BOOM.
The hidden door slammed shut and locked dead.
The sounds outside were mostly muffled, but they still managed to pierce through the heavy stone walls, gouging into her bones cut by cut.
“Old Madam, hand over the Dragon Bone Prophecy, and we’ll grant you an intact corpse!”
“The sons and daughters of the Wei family would rather die than associate with bandits!”
A muffled thud of a sharp blade piercing flesh.
Grandmother’s fierce rebuke abruptly ceased.
Then, another clear and piercing female voice suddenly rose.
“Bandits—I, Wei Yinzhao, am right here!
Come and kill me if you have the guts!”
She was impersonating Yin Zhao’s name, buying time for her to survive.
“Sister—”
Yin Zhao’s throat flared with a tearing agony.
Hearing the clash of weapons and endless screams outside, she dug her nails into the stone crevices in despair, scratching until her fingers were bloody and her heart was completely shattered.
“How could the two-hundred-and-seventy-year-old integrity of the Wei family be sullied by bandits?
Are you willing to burn alongside me?”
It was her mother.
She hadn’t left.
She had stayed behind in the Wei Family Ancestral Hall, knocking over the eternal lamps and spilling the tung oil stored beneath the sacrificial altar.
Today, we burn down this centuries-old ancestral hall, leaving absolutely nothing for you jackals!
“The sons and daughters of the Wei family will never suffer humiliation in life, nor surrender in death.
Today, the three of us, mother and daughters, lay down our lives for our ancestral hall, our family, and our righteous path.
“May the iron spirit of Ms.
Wei stay fiercely evergreen.”
The drapery in front of the statue turned into a fiery dragon, soaring into the air.
BANG!
The tongues of fire licked at the Agarwood, letting out a series of CRACKLES.
The beams, the plaques, the Golden Rattan, the rosewood frames, the Agarwood Goddess Statue…
Every bit of glory that had once belonged to the Wei family was entirely buried in the sea of flames.
“Zhaozhao, I’ll go on ahead.
In our next life, we’ll still be sisters!”
Her sister’s voice faded away.
Her mother’s voice vanished as well.
Yin Zhao shoved her fist into her mouth and bit down, biting so hard her mouth filled with blood.
She didn’t dare to cry, didn’t dare to make a sound, and didn’t even dare to breathe too heavily…
In the darkness, time felt like thick, viscous blood, dripping away inch by inch.
In a daze, she heard people carrying water and splashing it onto the ancestral hall.
The sound of footsteps echoed near and far, moving from east to west, boots crunching on shattered porcelain with an ear-piercing grind.
The massive fire burned for an entire night.
Gradually, the commotion outside died down.
After a long, dead silence, someone began to count the bodies, inspecting the corpses and calling out the names.
One after another, the names rang out like the continuous tolling of a death knell, shattering the spine and lifeblood of the Wei family.
“Old Madam of the Wei family, Wei Zhengshu, dead!”
“The Wei family’s Sect Master, Wei Mingke, dead!”
“The Wei family’s daughter Wei Mingsi, and youngest son Wei Rong, dead!”
“The Wei family’s daughter Wei Mingxiu, dead!”
“The Wei family’s daughter Wei Minghui, dead!”
“The Wei family’s eldest heir daughter, Wei Yinshuang, dead!”
“The Wei family’s second heir daughter, Wei Yinzhao, dead!”
“The Wei family’s second branch youngest daughter, Wei Yinxue, dead!”
“The Wei family’s third branch eldest son, Wei You, dead!”
“The Wei family’s son-in-law, Liu Shaohuai, dead!”
“The Wei family’s son-in-law Yu Po, eldest son Wei Xu, and second son Wei Yu, dead!”
“Forty-seven Protectors of the Wei family, all executed!”
“One hundred and eighty-six servants of the Wei family, all dead!”
“Reporting—all two hundred and forty-seven people in the household, great and small, no survivors.”
“Search again.”
Thick smoke billowed through the ancestral hall.
The secret chamber grew blisteringly hot from the residual heat.
Wei Yinzhao curled up in the deepest corner, her entire body trembling.
Her tears had dried up, and her throat could only produce raspy, breathless gasps.
Her grandmother, mother, and sister…
The little maid who always sneaked her candies.
The old steward who had taught her how to ride a horse.
They were all dead.
Dead before her very eyes, dead right beside her ears.
She didn’t know when she lost consciousness.
Perhaps she had been overcome by the smoke, or perhaps she had cried until she completely collapsed.
In the darkness, she lost all sense of time.
All she remembered was the cold and the pain.
When she woke up, she tucked away the Qilin Copper Order and opened the bundle her mother had shoved into her arms.
Inside were a few sets of fresh clothes, some light and valuable gold and silver jewelry.
There was also a copper key, and a blood-written letter addressed to their relatives in Lingnan.
“I entrust the Wei Family’s daughters, Yin Shuang and Yin Zhao, to your noble family.
Should disaster befall the Wei family, please keep them safe and never let them return to Luojing for the rest of their lives.”
Mother’s handwriting was scribbled and rushed, entirely lacking her usual poised and elegant penmanship.
Holding the letter, Yin Zhao’s hands shook violently, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.
She wanted to cry out for her mother, but her throat was so dry, swollen, and raw that she couldn’t make a single sound.
She pressed the letter tightly against her chest, bent over, and rested her forehead against her knees, letting her tears flow freely…
From this day forward, there would be no one left in the world to indulge her tears.