The Mid-Autumn Festival of the first year of Taikang arrived as scheduled.

At the second quarter of the hour of Chen, three carriages drove out one after another from the corner gate of the estate.

One was the Zhu family carriage.

The coachman had followed Master Zhu for many years—a sturdy middle-aged man.

One was the Ji family carriage.

After the Ji family estate was confiscated, they visibly declined. The carriage couldn’t compare to their former luxury—it looked much simpler.

One was the estate’s carriage, driven by the estate’s coachman.

After the three carriages left the alley, they headed in different directions.

Which one to follow?

The surveillance leader made a gesture—assign one person to follow each carriage, don’t lose track.

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, two people walked out of the estate.

The surveillance team immediately recognized these two—

One was Huang Qi, Young Master Pei’s personal guard, the other was Han Xu, the new master of Han Family Fort.

Huang Qi and Han Xu mounted horses and left the estate together.

“Follow them!”

“Yes!”

…

The Zhu family carriage stopped at the Zhu family gate. Zhu Yuanmo stepped out of the carriage.

Zhu Yuanmo hurried into the estate. Half an hour later, he hurried out carrying a bundle, dove into the carriage waiting at the corner gate.

The coachman gave a “Hyah—” and headed straight for the south city gate.

…

The Ji family carriage headed north. After leaving the north city gate, it traveled for another hour before stopping in front of an ordinary house.

Ji Haidong jumped down, then turned around and extended his hand.

A fair hand fell into Ji Haidong’s palm. He grasped it, and with his other hand gently scooped her up, lifting a woman from the carriage.

The woman wore a cloak and veil, her face covered tightly. Judging only by her figure, she should be a young lady.

…

The estate’s carriage leisurely left through the west city gate. After traveling on the official road for half an hour, it turned onto a path heading up the mountain.

At the halfway point, the carriage stopped at the entrance to Water Moon Nunnery.

A girl of about ten jumped down from the carriage, then used both hands to help an old nun out of the carriage.

When the little girl tried to follow the old nun through the nunnery gate, she was scolded by the old nun. She pouted and waited boredly outside the gate.

The old nun wasn’t inside for long. When she came out again, she was carrying a bundle in her hands.

The two got back in the carriage. The carriage descended the mountain and continued west.

…

Huang Qi and Han Xu rode horses to the Han family station in the capital.

After dismounting, Han Xu tossed the reins, called the manager over to coordinate with Huang Qi, then walked into the station with his hands behind his back.

Huang Qi chatted with the manager for a while. The manager ordered an assistant to take out a piece of paper. Huang Qi dipped his thumb in red clay and pressed his fingerprint.

Immediately after, the manager called over two carriages and four assistants, ordering them to follow Huang Qi.

After Huang Qi mounted his horse, he first went to the Xie estate. Half a day later, Steward Xie led people in carrying out two trunks.

Next, Huang Qi returned to his own Pei estate. After another half day, they arranged two more trunks.

When the sky darkened, Huang Qi led people to Hundred Medicine Hall. From the hall they brought out two large bundles, and finally the whole group headed straight for the estate.

The estate’s things were obviously already prepared—four large camphorwood chests in total.

The assistants said the items needed to be unpacked and checked again. Huang Qi had no choice but to follow the two carriages back to the Han family station.

At the station, the assistants first unloaded all the trunks from the carriages, then opened them and took out the contents.

One assistant counted, one assistant recorded, another assistant methodically put away the recorded items.

Huang Qi sat in a grand master’s chair, one leg crossed over the other, drinking tea and eating snacks, bored out of his mind.

After the estate moved out the four large trunks, the corner gate creaked shut. No one else emerged from the estate.

Night gradually deepened.

…

The Imperial Mausoleum.

Study.

Shen Chong stood with his head bowed at Zhao Yishi’s side.

“Your Highness, this is the current situation. Third Master and the others should still be at the estate. What do you think…”

Zhao Yishi coldly raised his eyes. The murderous intent in his eyes made Shen Chong immediately fall silent.

“Go to the estate immediately and check. They might already be gone.”

How was that possible?

Shen Chong’s expression changed dramatically. “I’ll send people immediately to stop all the carriages.”

The study fell completely quiet.

This kind of quiet was what Zhao Yishi was most accustomed to, and also most afraid of.

When he turned three, he had his own separate courtyard.

The courtyard was very large, with many palace servants, but not a single familiar face. His wet nurse Madam Qian hadn’t followed—she had just been expelled from the Crown Prince’s estate.

He liked Madam Qian—her skin was fair, her body fragrant, her speech gentle and soft.

Waking in the night, he habitually tried to burrow into his wet nurse’s embrace but found empty space. His crying shook heaven and earth.

Mother rushed in and grabbed him with a slap.

He was stunned by the blow.

“Son, don’t become attached to anyone, especially women. They’re all vixens in disguise who want to drink your blood and eat your flesh. You must guard against them at all times.

Son, you must remember—in this world, only Mother doesn’t need guarding against. Mother’s heart and eyes have only you. Mother always acts for your good.”

He fell asleep with hiccupping sobs.

Mother’s footsteps faded away. Outside the bed curtains it was extremely quiet.

He always felt that in such quiet lurked an enormous beast, waiting to swallow him whole while he slept.

Later he learned that Madam Qian hadn’t been expelled from the Crown Prince’s estate—she had died soundlessly.

She had climbed into Father’s bed. Father, his head turned by beauty, promised to grant her something.

With the man bewitched by Madam Qian and the son drinking Madam Qian’s milk, how could Mother tolerate such an ambitious woman?

So Mother killed her.

Later, Mother killed many more young, beautiful women.

These women fluttered around Father like butterflies, trading their young bodies for waist tokens to wealth and glory.

When Father questioned Mother, there wasn’t a trace of shame on Mother’s face.

“The Crown Prince is the nation’s heir apparent and should prioritize family and realm above all. Those women drain Your body and ruin Your image in His Majesty’s eyes. They deserve death ten thousand times over.”

Quiet. Deathly quiet.

He waited outside, his heart trembling with fear, terrified that in the next instant Father would strangle Mother to death.

Nothing happened. Father left leaning on his crutch, step by step.

Later, he entered the palace, to the side of his imperial grandfather.

His courtyard was even larger, again filled with unfamiliar faces. At night he still couldn’t sleep. Outside the bed curtains it was even quieter, not a single sound. He wanted to go home.

But Mother would never let him go home. If he dared step out of this courtyard, Mother’s hairpin would stab into his body.

That pain—he had tasted it once and didn’t want a second time.

He had to try to understand Mother’s difficulties.

For the imperial grandfather to see his excellence, Mother had expended untold effort behind the scenes and spent countless silver taels.

Where were there so many chance encounters and coincidences in this world? Everything was calculated bit by bit.

After coming to the imperial grandfather’s side, he learned that what the imperial grandfather loved most was quiet, especially when reviewing memorials. Not a single sound could be made in the hall.

Everyone held their breath, not daring to move.

So did he.

In the silence, he watched the imperial grandfather pick up the vermillion brush and slowly write several characters on a memorial.

The memorial passed into the hands of the Chief Eunuch of Ceremonies. The emperor’s will transmitted from the deep palace to the capital, spreading throughout the realm.

Someone would be dismissed from office, someone would be promoted.

A great clan would fall, a great clan would rise.

Someone’s head would roll, someone would rise to prominence.

As a child, he thought this quiet gave the imperial grandfather the power to think. Later he understood—quiet wasn’t power. Authority was.

Zhao Yishi withdrew his thoughts, picked up his brush, and began practicing calligraphy.

He had just finished three pages when Wang Yin pushed open the door and entered, saying respectfully: “Your Highness, news has come from Guard Shen.”