Shi Ting understood the Marshal well, knew where his limits lay — and Meng Xiangyang had crossed those limits again and again. That meant the Meng family’s days were numbered.

“Is there anything we need to do?” Yan Qing felt that at a moment like this, they should add more fuel to the fire and let it burn even brighter.

“Let’s wait for the right moment.” Shi Ting smiled faintly. “Opportunities have a way of finding their way into our hands.”

He knew the Marshal’s patience had reached its absolute limit. The man would inevitably make his move.

The Marshal received Liu Yin’s report and furrowed his brow. “Are you certain?”

Liu Yin said, “I relayed the Marshal’s orders to Secretary-General Li, then had someone tail him continuously. He originally intended to pass the message by telephone, but I had the phone lines cut in advance — reporting it publicly as line maintenance. He then wrote a letter and had someone deliver it. I followed that person every step of the way, through every twist and turn, until we arrived at the rear gate of the Marshal’s compound. At the rear gate, he made contact with a servant named Dazhi, who belongs to the First Young Master’s household. After Dazhi took the letter, the messenger departed.”

“And the letter?”

“When I realized the recipient was Dazhi, I came immediately to report to the Marshal.”

The Marshal’s expression turned cold. “Come. We’re going to Shi Qian’s courtyard.”

Shi Qian tore open the envelope. Upon reading the letter’s contents, he was greatly alarmed. He had thought his tracks were covered without a trace — so why did the Marshal still suspect him? And why had he secretly ordered Secretary Li to conduct an investigation?

In the letter, Secretary Li warned him to exercise restraint in the near future and urged him to find another way to solidify the charges against Shi Guang.

But Shi Guang was so cunning — even the attempt to frame him this time had been a gamble. Pushing too hard would only invite the Marshal’s suspicion.

Secretary Li did offer a suggestion in the letter, but it was too risky. Shi Ting was easier to strike when he was away — now that he was back in the Shi household, another assassination would be far from simple.

Just as Shi Qian was weighing whether Secretary Li’s suggestion was feasible, someone burst through the door without warning. Before Shi Qian could react, the letter in his hand had already changed ownership.

“The Marshal?” Shi Qian had not expected the Marshal to barge in so suddenly. Shocked and terrified at once, his eyes locked onto the letter, cold sweat breaking out across his back almost instantly. Without time to think further, he said urgently, “Marshal, this is my private correspondence…”

To snatch the letter now would only look more suspicious; to let it go and allow the Marshal to read the contents would mean everything was finished.

Shi Qian decided to seize the letter first. After all, the Marshal had not yet seen the contents — as long as he destroyed it at the first opportunity and then flatly denied everything, no one could do anything to him.

But the moment Shi Qian’s hand reached out, it was blocked. Liu Yin lifted his deep-set eyes and glanced at him, then immediately lowered his gaze. “First Young Master, pardon me.”

“You…” Shi Qian knew that Liu Yin, as head of the Marshal’s personal guard, was more than capable in a fight. With him standing in the way, there was no possibility of retrieving that letter.

Shi Qian felt a buzzing in his head, suddenly unable to think clearly. In his mind, only two words tumbled over and over — it’s over, it’s over!

The Marshal held the letter and scanned it from beginning to end. Secretary Li had been by his side for many years; he knew the man’s handwriting as well as his own palm. Although Li had been very careful to adopt a different script style, certain writing habits never change. For instance, when Li wrote the character for “true,” he always wrote the three horizontal strokes as two — and that habit persisted regardless of the script style he used.

“The two of you truly have remarkable audacity.” The hand holding the letter trembled involuntarily. The gaze directed at Shi Qian was full of ruthless fury.

Shi Qian immediately collapsed to his knees, his whole body trembling, unable to utter a word.

Any explanation was futile now. This had been the Marshal’s ruse to lure the enemy — and in one stroke, it had drawn out both him and Secretary Li.

He knew the thing the Marshal despised most was betrayal — and the one who had betrayed him was someone he had trusted above all others.

Shi Qian knelt on the ground, his forehead pressed to the floor, feeling as though he were trapped in a cellar of ice, wave after wave of cold washing over him.

Dazhi, standing outside the door, caught sight of the situation within and quickly ran all the way to Madam Shi’s courtyard. Although Madam Shi was confined to her quarters, others were still free to come and go, and as long as she wished it, she could also step out to the rear garden to admire the flowers and the moon. The household staff dared not gossip about it, for she was still the lady of the house.

The so-called punishment of confinement was, in truth, of little consequence.

“Can such a thing really have happened?” Upon hearing Dazhi’s account, Madam Shi was so startled that the cup in her hand dropped. The carefully maintained composure on her cultivated face crumbled entirely. “It’s over. Jingzhi has surely fallen into the Marshal’s trap — he’s walked straight into the snare.”

“Madam, the Marshal is in a towering rage. Please think of something quickly.” Dazhi said urgently.

“Yes, yes, I must think of something.” Madam Shi rose to her feet and paced in anxious circles. But she quickly arrived at a plan. “Yingtao, take my personal token and hurry to notify Minister Meng — tell him to come at once. Yinxing, go to the south courtyard and find the Old Madam. Tell her the Marshal is going to have her eldest grandson put to death.”

The two received their orders and immediately withdrew.

At a time like this, Madam Shi naturally wanted to fly to her son’s side — but she had to restrain herself. She could drift about in front of others, but not before the Marshal. Otherwise, being confined for another month or two was entirely possible.

“What are you still standing there for? Go hold back the Marshal.” With no outlet for her anger, Madam Shi could only chase Dazhi out to be a shield.

Dazhi, a lowly household servant, would not dare lay hands on the Marshal — that was no different from seeking his own death.

Meanwhile, Yingtao hurried out through the rear gate and boarded a rickshaw. She did not notice that the rickshaw puller’s felt hat was pulled very low, revealing only his nose and mouth. Had she looked more carefully, she would surely have found him vaguely familiar.

Dihuai pulled the rickshaw all the way toward the Meng Mansion. As they passed over a small bridge, the rickshaw suddenly ran over a stone, a wheel lurched, and the entire vehicle toppled off the side of the bridge.

Yingtao, seated inside, was completely unprepared for this turn of events. She let out a sharp cry, slammed against the side of the carriage, and then the world turned upside down — followed by a heavy thud. Her chest heaving from the impact, Yingtao lost consciousness instantly.

Dihuai stood on the bridge and looked down. He could only see the overturned rickshaw with its four wheels pointing skyward. He was in no hurry to rescue anyone. Instead, he sat calmly on the bridge pier and waited. When he judged the time was right, he climbed down and roused Yingtao. The bridge was not high, and the fall had not been severe — she came to the moment someone shook her awake, opened her eyes, and saw the rickshaw puller shaking her. She assumed she had only been unconscious for a brief moment, with no time to hold him accountable. Instead, she urged him impatiently, “Get to the Meng Mansion. Quickly.”

Dihuai hastened to push the carriage upright and set off for the Meng Mansion with Yingtao — though in a place she could not see, a cold smile played at the corner of his lips.

Dazhi returned to Shi Qian’s courtyard just as the Marshal’s furious voice could be heard from within. By then, Luo Huaimeng and Yan Qing had also come upon hearing the commotion.

But Luo Huaimeng had not come to mediate — she had come to watch the spectacle. She wanted to see with her own eyes what fate would befall the man who had nearly cost her son his life.

“Marshal, please calm your anger. The First Young Master acted in a moment of foolishness.” Luo Huaimeng said lightly and unhurriedly — a remark that effectively confirmed Shi Qian’s guilt.

The Marshal naturally would not kill Shi Qian. After all, he was his own flesh and blood — even a tiger will not eat its own cubs. But someone had to bear the brunt of his fury.

At the time, the reason Shi Ting had suddenly “recovered” and interceded on Shi Guang’s behalf was precisely because he understood clearly that the charge of assassination could not truly harm Shi Guang or Shi Qian — with the Meng family backing them from behind, the matter would likely end the same way as with Madam Shi: raised high and brought down gently.

Shi Yuan had been expelled from the Shi household for attempting to kill him — but that was because she was a married daughter; she was supposed to return to Xi Nan anyway. Whether the Marshal drove her away or not made little difference to him.

And when Madam Shi had tried to poison San Yitai and the child in her womb, what had come of it? House confinement. At its core, the Marshal bore no true blood bond with his own children — but toward his domain, he was unswerving in his obsession.

Shi Qian killing Shi Ting was one thing — but Shi Qian had formed an alliance with the Marshal’s most capable and trusted subordinate. In the Marshal’s eyes, that was an unforgivable offense. The Marshal would conclude that Shi Qian harbored treasonous ambitions — that he intended to kill and seize power.

Infringing upon his children was one thing. Touching his interests was another matter entirely.

And so Shi Ting had not rushed to stamp on Shi Guang when the assassin gave him up. What he wanted was for the Marshal to personally uncover Secretary Li — and in so doing, draw out Shi Qian along with him. The effect of something being revealed through another’s mouth was worlds apart from something the Marshal had uncovered himself.

Shi Ting’s grasp of the Marshal’s psychology was precise and accurate. In that moment, as the Marshal looked at Shi Qian, he saw him as a rebellious son poised to revolt at any moment.

“Pass down my order: Shi Qian has shown poor character and ruthless methods, having attempted to assassinate his own younger brother. He is stripped of all military positions and dispatched to Mocheng in three days.”

At the words “Mocheng,” Shi Qian froze completely.

Mocheng lay at the northernmost tip of Bei Di — not only the coldest city in Bei Di, but the coldest in the entire country. In winter, the temperature could plunge to over forty degrees below zero. Adjacent to the Liao He was the nation of Xin Guo, a vast and powerful state with strong soldiers and horses. Border skirmishes of varying scale between the two countries were constant. Sending him to Mocheng was clearly an order to garrison the frontier.

Serving at such a post in such conditions — even if one did not fall in battle, one might well freeze to death.

“Father and Marshal, I know I have committed wrongs, and I beg for a lighter sentence. I do not wish to go to Mocheng. I do not wish to garrison the frontier.” Shi Qian was now scared out of his wits. He crawled on his knees to the Marshal’s feet and clutched at the hem of his long robe. “Father, I do not want to go to the northern wastes. I beg you to show mercy.”

That word “Father” seemed designed to remind the Marshal of what he was doing — to make him understand that the one kneeling before him, begging and pleading, was his own flesh and blood. He could not send his own son to a place like that to die.

Yet the Marshal’s expression remained resolute and utterly unmoved. He had clearly made up his mind.

At that moment, a voice announced from outside, “The Old Madam has arrived.”

Luo Huaimeng could not help but glance at Yan Qing. Yan Qing shook her head at her, signaling her to remain calm.

* * *