Qin Chang Ge, the newly appointed administrator of Yingdu Prefecture in the Ministry of Justice, encountered a power play right upon taking office.

Minister of Justice Long Qi received the visiting tanhua candidate in his official residence. Under thick brows, a pair of cold, sharp triangular eyes sized up Qin Chang Ge from head to toe before saying with neither warmth nor coldness: “In recent years, Yingdu has been blessed with a clear-minded prefect who governs well, leaving few accumulated cases. You’ve landed yourself a leisurely job. However, speaking of which, the previous administrator still has one unsolved mystery case at hand. I was just thinking of finding some experienced clerks to brainstorm solutions together—do you dare accept it?”

Smiling very humbly, Qin Chang Ge said: “Moyan will certainly do his utmost.”

After sizing him up once more, Long Qi waved his hand. Servants immediately brought over a towering stack of case files that made Qin Chang Ge sink under their weight when he received them.

“Young man, work hard,” Long Qi’s expression flickered with a meaningful smile. “If you handle this case well, your time of rapid advancement will come…”

That evening, Qin Chang Ge carried the stack of case files back to the small courtyard and read by candlelight through the night.

The May wind already carried summer warmth. In the corner of the wall, night insects chirped behind the moss, their rising and falling sounds like poetry recitation. Under the flower wall, pomegranate buds were so full they seemed ready to burst open with a “pop,” spraying out brilliant red and flying green fragrance. Moonlight flowed between the turning pages like the finest Huainan silk brocade, splashing far away like stirred springs when pages were lifted.

Completely absorbed in the case files, Qin Chang Ge occasionally made marks. Hearing movement behind her, she turned to see the blue-robed man, paler than moonlight, quietly gazing at her.

He was increasingly thin, his sleeves carrying weak, cool energy like frost on blue tiles, flowing moonlight through silk curtains, or burnt sandalwood in a midnight jade tripod—a faint presence whose reality was questionable, whether only an echo’s aftertaste or truly existing.

Qin Chang Ge watched him as if watching a segment of flowing years, that steel-like jade youth somehow replaced by someone’s rosemary. Opening her palm, even the finger gaps held desolation.

The rescue on that rainy night at Shi Village and the seemingly easy conversation with the middle-aged man had actually caused indescribable harm to Feihuan through using his ability, especially when his life was already being spent recklessly.

Sometimes Qin Chang Ge hated that she couldn’t protect herself perfectly, causing Feihuan to repeatedly use abilities that should never be used again.

He spared nothing of himself for her—how could she accept this with equanimity?

Love was sweet blood, swallowed mouthful by mouthful, with no one seeing the heart-wrenching pain tearing through one’s chest.

Slowly blooming into a smile, Qin Chang Ge’s expression was nonchalant: “Still not sleeping?”

“Can’t sleep.” Chu Feihuan also just quietly gazed at her, as if gazing at the horizon beyond the azure sky, beyond the vast sea. The scenery here was uniquely beautiful—but with whom to share it? Himself?

Yet he didn’t wish to be an imperfect note of sadness in this prosperous age.

His fingers clutched a thin piece of paper in his sleeve pouch—so light yet so heavy. Feng Yao had been warned once and seemed to understand her intentions. She apparently didn’t plan to force anything, yet had someone deliver a message.

In the Sacred Valley of Nanmin, it was said a stalk of Treading Fragrance Jialan was secretly treasured.

Treading Fragrance Jialan could, at the very least, allow him to stand again, right?

To stand at the height where he could look her in the eye as he had years ago, to walk before her instead of watching that slender back, thinking of the burden on her shoulders, thinking of the incomplete Ruiyi and feeling desolate.

Chu Feihuan’s faint smile seemed to brighten the entire room. Glancing at the case files on Qin Chang Ge’s table, his gaze especially swept over the marks she’d made before saying after a while: “These disappearance cases seem quite strange…”

Qin Chang Ge smiled, leaning against her desk leisurely: “You probably know too—this isn’t a simple disappearance case. Long Qi wants to hand me a hot potato…”

Qin Chang Ge stroked the case files, some pages brittle from long storage, raising an eyebrow. Actually, this fire seed had been planted from the moment the palace examination papers showed half circles and half crosses, hadn’t it?

In recent years, women had frequently disappeared in the capital—all from ordinary poor families, all attractive, all vanishing while out alone. When families searched everywhere unsuccessfully and reported to officials, the authorities had limited manpower. After perfunctory searches, they’d carelessly file it as “missing” and close the case. These women vanished without trace—alive or dead unseen—leaving only families wailing daily with nowhere to appeal.

Until last year when Du Changsheng took office as Yingdu Prefect and accidentally discovered the suspiciously large number of these disappearance cases. He compiled the files and sent copies to the Ministry of Justice, hoping for joint investigation. The Ministry accepted but daily found excuses to defer, dragging on day by day. The Yingdu Prefecture managed everything from eating and drinking to military affairs and legal cases throughout the capital, having no time to press further. The accumulated cases piled higher and higher.

At first hearing, since these cases repeatedly occurred yet remained unsolved for years, they seemed like difficult major cases. Qin Chang Ge originally thought Long Qi was just displeased with him and wanted to create difficulties. Now, carefully analyzing the files, she discovered the other party’s sinister intentions.

The cases appeared confusing but actually had subtle directions—likely simple cases of young nobles abducting people. Perhaps their methods were ruthless, directly disposing of victims. Yet clearly traceable cases had been buried for so long in the two highest local criminal processing departments—truly a phenomenon demanding deep thought.

The Ministry of Justice, with countless experienced investigators, couldn’t solve simple cases.

Yingdu Prefect Du Changsheng, supposedly an honest official, didn’t choose independent investigation but requested Ministry assistance.

The Ministry responded perfunctorily with no results.

All this suggested the perpetrator’s extraordinary identity.

Simple cases creating such deadlock implied the perpetrator was definitely not simple—involving Xi Liang’s greatest hidden domestic contradiction, the unavoidable contradiction all emperors establishing new dynasties after overthrowing old systems must face: the irreconcilable collision between former dynasty nobility forces and new dynasty nobles of common birth who had meritoriously followed the dragon.

Originally, Qin Chang Ge and Xiao Jue had made various efforts regarding this, finally controlling these two forces in a balanced position. This balance’s maintenance was built on the foundation of equal court strength, shared benefits, and mutual non-interference.

Balance was essential imperial technique all emperors must master.

In other words, once either force was provoked by the other, the chain reaction and confrontation would be incalculable.

Meeting each other’s gaze, both Qin Chang Ge and Chu Feihuan’s eyes surged with hidden currents. Chu Feihuan said lightly: “Capital’s young nobles—there are only so many.”

“Yes,” Qin Chang Ge slowly pondered. “Jiang Hua died in Taibi Prison, his family’s young noble Jiang Chuanyun also became a plucked rooster. Though Xiao Jue didn’t punish him, that lifelong terror was enough. Since the Jiang family fell, yet this case wasn’t immediately raised for investigation, it shows it’s not Jiang Chuanyun. The remaining…”

Both their eyes flashed again, thinking of that figure whose identity could trigger sensitive upheaval among two or even three forces.

Li Li, sole son of Duke Wuwei Li Han, capital’s tyrant. Duke Wuwei himself was born a former dynasty general but followed the dragon very early, once saving Xiao Jue’s life on the battlefield. His own wife was a former Yuan princess, pampered daughter of Prince Changcheng. Prince Changcheng was resealed as Duke Anguo in the new dynasty. The Li family was both a noble clan with former Yuan royal blood and distinguished new dynasty nobles with establishment merit—truly prominent across generations.

The Li family young master’s identity involved not just two forces, but even the emperor himself—if he was the perpetrator, how should the Xi Liang Emperor, whose benevolent and wise reputation spread throughout the land, deal with the precious son of his savior?

Moreover, once this case emerged, it would certainly arouse vigilance and attention from noble elders and aristocratic classes. To protect class interests and maintain class authority from being suppressed by political enemies, noble clans would surely unite, conspire, and scramble about, weaving vast networks in palace and court. Meanwhile, progressive and clear-headed new court nobles, officials of humble birth, and victimized common people would form another alliance, insisting on severely punishing the perpetrator. An ordinary murder case would evolve into a tug-of-war between nobility forces and commoner-born officials—two classes with their own strengths twisted together like taffy. Mishandling either side could trigger court upheaval and ministerial alienation.

Chu Feihuan was a kingdom’s prince, Qin Chang Ge a former empress—their political acuity was beyond ordinary people’s comparison. Almost as soon as they finished reading the files, they smelled conspiracy, smelled the approaching smoke of court battles.

Now Long Qi handing this series of disappearance cases to newly arrived rookie administrator Qin Chang Ge was no longer simple harassment—he wanted to use this minor clerk’s hands to expose truths that absolutely couldn’t be touched. After stirring up court affairs and targeting political enemies, a mere Ministry of Justice administrator under pressure from various powerful forces would likely leave not even bones behind.

Fortunately, Zhao Moyan’s true identity was Qin Chang Ge—otherwise, what would the result be?

“Such vicious thinking,” Qin Chang Ge sneered. “I can’t even count how many birds with one stone this is.”

Silent, Chu Feihuan flipped through case files thoughtfully before saying after a while: “It’s late, rest early.”

Without waiting for Qin Chang Ge’s response, he turned and slowly entered the shadows under the eaves. The midnight wind was somewhat sharp, blowing his clothes until they appeared quite loose.

In the distant night, some insomniac played lingering flute music. The clear flute sound shattered thin clouds in the firmament, penetrated the glazed moonlight, wandering and meandering, startling night birds roosting in treetops who flew up with rustling sounds, their white wings momentarily cutting through the night sky.

The song “But Mutual Forgetting.”

Qin Chang Ge gazed at that figure submerged in darkness, a sigh falling like scattered snow.

Three days later, at Duke Wuwei’s villa on suburban Mingfeng Mountain—the vast, magnificent Luo Garden spanning hundreds of li—received a pair of strange overnight guests.

An old servant carrying his young master said they’d been injured while mountain sightseeing. Being old and slow-moving, if they went down the mountain, the master feared they couldn’t reach the city in time and might encounter wild beasts. They requested the garden steward’s mercy for one night’s lodging.

Luo Garden strictly forbade receiving outside guests, but the gatekeeper steward couldn’t resist the old man’s left-handed silver bribes and right-handed pleading. Seeing these two—one mobility-impaired, one elderly—seemed harmless, he deliberately tested the man’s condition by pretending to help, finding his legs truly limp and unable to touch ground, confirming walking difficulty. Only then did he arrange the garden’s most remote corner room for them.

Even so, he remained uneasy, arranging guards to observe. The old man coughed all night while the young master remained silent, seemingly insomniac, occasionally tossing on the bed with intermittent creaking bamboo bed sounds until dawn.

Everyone relaxed, continuing their daily boring card games.

The next morning, the old man and youth conscientiously took leave, with the steward hastily escorting them out.

No one knew that when the pair disappeared around the mountain bend, someone silently emerged from the roadside forest, producing an exquisite wheelchair for the young man. The young man looked back indifferently from his chair at the magnificent Luo Garden at the winding road’s end, letting out a cold laugh.

Subsequently, the shocking Li Li rape and murder case of dozens of civilian women erupted in the capital.

Li Li, son of Duke Wuwei Li Han, privately maintained martial men specifically for his pleasure-seeking. Usually these men wandered markets, watching for women dressed plainly without maid servants but outstanding in appearance, then abducted them, imprisoning them in his suburban villa “Luo Garden’s” secret chambers where Li Li indulged day and night. When tired of them, he threw them to household slaves. Women tortured to death had their corpses thrown into the garden’s rear dry well, buried with large stones. Luo Garden being remote with strict access, these women’s miserable deaths went unknown while families continued searching earnestly, unaware their beloved daughters had long become withered bones and lonely souls at the well bottom.

Luo Garden was quickly sealed. Yingdu Prefecture coroners spent an entire day extracting thirty-six corpses from the dry well bottom.

Some corpses were skeletal remains, some half-decomposed, some life-like—new corpses layered with old, making identification difficult. The newest, aged sixteen and dead only days, had flower-like beauty but was already a trampled blossom.

The dry well bottom was excavated into a ten-zhang square pit filled with accumulated bones and putrid stench.

Workers extracting corpses climbed halfway up before their legs gave out, vomiting violently at the well mouth while others turned deathly pale, inhuman in color.

When news spread, families coming to identify corpses crowded Luo Garden’s entrance, wailing sky-high.

For days, from Luo Garden’s entrance halfway up the mountain to Mingfeng Mountain’s base—several li of mountain road—lay scattered with incense ash and spirit money. Families holding soul-calling ceremonies for wrongfully dead daughters played mournful suona that made moonlight grim and mountain winds cold, causing distant listeners to weep involuntarily.

For a long time, Yingdu was shrouded in desolate, murderous atmosphere. Families holding funeral processions, regardless of distance, insisted on passing Duke Wuwei’s mansion, throwing spirit money and soul banners over his high walls despite guard dispersal and shouting.

Those silent yet hateful gazes seemed capable of destroying this century-old magnificent mansion through sheer intensity.

Li family members didn’t dare send even grocery servants out easily, as merely opening doors to peek might result in random flying bricks cracking skulls.

Throughout Yingdu’s streets and alleys, teahouses and taverns, everyone whispered tensely about how the emperor would handle the heinously criminal Li Li and how the powerful Li family would save their sole heir.

Some mentioned the case’s solver, though when discussing him, everyone consistently expressed pity, shaking heads.

All appeared sympathetic that he was remarkable, unlucky, and doomed.

The person exposing this shocking Xi Liang case was newly promoted tanhua, recent Ministry of Justice administrator Zhao Moyan from Dezhou.

The one who single-handedly captured the arrogant, powerful Young Master Li was still the humble-born, rootless Zhao Moyan.

As for how he captured Li Li and his martial accomplices without even bringing constables, quickly delivering them to Ministry of Justice prison, the entire capital knew nothing. Thus Duke Wuwei concluded that commoner-born emerging court officials with burning ambition must have secretly assisted, wanting to target noble forces led by him.

Li Han, from a fierce general background with position earned through blood and military merit, still had former military subordinates throughout the army. Being brave and fierce by nature, he was truly the most fearless person. How could he tolerate someone targeting his only beloved son? In great rage, he immediately took his nine-ring broadsword to first kill that damned administrator at the Ministry of Justice.

His nine-ring broadsword was battlefield-famous, with countless souls beneath it. Even sealed for years, the spiritually awakened blood-drinking blade sometimes leaped from its sheath at midnight, crying without being drawn. So when Duke Wuwei rode angrily through Yingdu streets with blade and mad horse like furious wind, surrounding people were startled. The Ministry of Justice entrance quickly gathered crowds, including some who admired Qin Chang Ge’s courage and pitied her impending doom, already quietly visiting nearby coffin shops planning to gift the martyred hero a fine coffin.

“Bang!” Li Han kicked open the Ministry of Justice’s thick, heavy copper-reinforced gates!

“Crash!” He smashed all furniture and decorations in the Ministry offices, kicking away officials attempting to block him!

Charging in furiously with purple face and bristling hair, the murderous Li Han was unstoppable. Long Qi had been feigning illness for days, maintaining a watching-from-afar attitude. Some vice-ministers wrung their hands helplessly while others sneered coldly, waiting for another spectacle.

“Crash!” He kicked open Qin Chang Ge’s office door, roaring: “You brat! You frame my son, wanting to place my only child in irredeemable ruin! I’ll kill you first to pay for my son’s life!”

When the door opened, the empty office—everyone having fled—contained only Qin Chang Ge holding case files, steadily seated high above, drinking tea.

She completely ignored Li Han’s gleaming, murderous nine-ring broadsword that had drunk countless others’ blood.

Li Han was instead startled by her indifferent attitude, unconsciously stepping back.

In that moment, Qin Chang Ge waved her hand as if pulling a string. With rustling sounds, two long scrolls suddenly dropped from the roof beams.

A couplet.

Black background with red characters, each character large as a round basin, brushwork dripping as if fresh blood falling drop by drop.

Wind swept through the wide-open window, blowing the couplet flying upward. Basin-sized characters rushed at his face, faintly carrying bloody scent. Li Han stepped back again in shock.

Looking up, the characters were eye-blindingly large, the couplet lines even more shocking!

“Alas! Hate heaven’s blindness, tolerating these dogs, trampling my delicate souls thirty-six, though Yellow Springs has roads I haven’t walked!”

“Woe! See the four seas’ rage, destroying that fierce beast, slicing his stinking flesh ten thousand eight times, hell’s gates unopened you come yourself!”

Written words could generate wind and thunder, ink brushes also became blade edges!

Li Han’s heart tightened, stepping back repeatedly.

Qin Chang Ge laughed coldly, flipping her hand to reverse the couplet, revealing the signature.

The signature was smaller, a string of boudoir names: Xu Ying, Miao Shenyun, Liu Cuicui, Li Birou…

Li Han read on confusedly, his heart suddenly tightening. He carefully counted: one, two, three, four… thirty-five… The number approaching thirty-six actually counted out several degrees of chill.

Wind howled fiercely, sometimes distant, sometimes near, circling the courtyard, lingering endlessly.

Like women’s soft weeping.

Li Han stepped back again!

One burst of energy, second weakens, third exhausts.

The murderous nine-ring broadsword fell limply, returning empty for the first time since forging without drinking blood.

The heavy blade shattered the flat brick floor, the cracking sound making all observers tremble. In the cracking sounds, only Qin Chang Ge’s voice was clear and sharp, each word like steel nails hammered into Li Han’s brain: “Heaven cannot tolerate spiritual evil, earth cannot preserve murderous sins. Good and evil ultimately have retribution—this is what complete evil deserves! Three-chi execution blade, five-zhang red silk, precisely prepared for your son. Vengeful souls wail, lingering without dispersing, waiting for blood to repay this deep injustice. You—can’t you hear?”

Li Han felt the weeping in the wind grow louder, thirty-six names transforming into thirty-six blood-drenched female faces, spinning, crying, pressing toward him.

Li Han looked up in horror, cold sweat streaming.

Opposite, the frost-faced youth standing straight as bamboo, flicked his sleeve and shouted sternly:

“Having heard, what face do you have to stand here?”

He shouted coldly:

“Go!!!”

Wind gradually ceased.

The sunless office was oppressively gloomy.

Soul-lost Li Han forgot even to pick up his blade, staggering out without his previous aggressive killing aura.

The people waiting outside had already heard the exciting scene inside from clerks observing by the office door, still somewhat disbelieving—what kind of person was Duke Li? He wasn’t a three-year-old child but a battlefield-killing demon who’d killed more people than an eighteen-year-old had eaten salt. Who could overwhelm him with presence alone?

Yet truly seeing Li Han emerge dejectedly—hair disheveled, blade gone, spirit completely fled—everyone’s eyes straightened.

Wherever Li Han walked, paths immediately cleared with people avoiding him far away. The feeling was no longer lower-class fear and respect for nobility, but endless disgust, as if seeing cockroaches or bedbugs—unwilling to approach.

Looking skyward, Li Han felt dark clouds overhead pressing down. The cloud layers quickly churned and changed, generating countless mysterious, dark, indiscernible yet seemingly destructive storm clouds. He shivered lightly, his previously fearless heart supported by powerful clan forces and noble alliances suddenly developing ominous premonitions from today’s intended intimidation that became his own lesson.

That youth… extraordinary…

He thought darkly as his figure departed.

Behind him.

Suddenly erupted earth-shaking cheers.

“Good!!!”

“Good!!!”

The quieted Ministry of Justice office saw spectators disperse, but the wall near the office suddenly produced applauding cheers.

Qin Chang Ge didn’t look up, lightly tapping case files against her desk: “This world has wall-climbing monks and wall-climbing emperors…”

“Who’s the wall-climbing monk?” A handsome head appeared over the wall, eyes shining as he looked at Qin Chang Ge. “Not Master Shiyi? He made me suffer greatly.”

“That was my idea,” Qin Chang Ge slowly smiled. “Without making you face reality, wouldn’t you think me a liar in the future?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Xiao Jue sat heroically on the wall like riding a horse. “Just wearing that face, it’s you, right? Did we spend all those years together for nothing?”

Smiling without answer, Qin Chang Ge looked up lazily: “Still not coming down? Addicted to climbing? If people see you, aren’t you embarrassed?”

Laughing heartily, he leaped down gracefully, his figure drawing smooth arcs in midair. The next second, Xiao Jue stood before Qin Chang Ge, smiling: “Li Han is truly pitiful.”

“His pitiful times are still ahead.” Qin Chang Ge was indifferent.

Restraining his smile, Xiao Jue sighed lightly: “I’ve seen the case files and testimony. It’s unquestionably Li Li’s doing, but he refuses to confess. You know, someone behind him is directing.”

“You know?” He smiled bitterly. “These past days in court, debates rage endlessly. Li Li’s case has aroused vigilance and attention from noble elders and aristocratic classes. Class interests and authority are inviolable—they fear political enemies using Li Li’s case to expose more matters, leading to group destruction. So they’ve been very busy these days, using every means to swear to preserve Li Li’s life. As for the others, those progressive new court nobles and humble-born officials insist on severely punishing the perpetrator. This murder case has evolved into class warfare between nobility forces and commoner-born officials.”

“More than that,” Qin Chang Ge sneered. “Li Han got no satisfaction today—he’ll probably adopt pitiful tactics. If he doesn’t pursue and pester you, cry and plead, I’ll change my surname.”

“You could take the surname Xiao.” Xiao Jue responded quickly, beaming.

Glancing at him, Qin Chang Ge changed the subject: “Regardless of others’ noise, the key is you. Your Majesty, what do you think?”

Reaching out, he naturally stroked Qin Chang Ge’s silk-smooth long hair. Xiao Jue didn’t immediately answer her question but slowly said: “These past days, you’ve worked hard.”

Pausing, he continued: “Chang Ge, you’ve exposed this case. Li Han’s group hates you bitterly and definitely won’t let you go. Recently there are also some mysterious forces and figures in Yingdu. I always feel they’re looking for you. Though you’re capable, with enemies in darkness while you’re in light, it’s impossible to guard against everything. This makes me quite uneasy. Chang Ge, please, let me protect you.”