CHAPTER 36: THE FALL OF THE SERPENT
Night covered the capital like a dark blanket. Thick fog rolled through the streets, hiding rooftops, doors, and narrow paths between buildings. Even the moon looked weak behind the clouds. The city was quiet, but danger moved through the silence.
Inside the eastern wing of the Marquis estate, Wei Jingshan leaned back in a carved wooden chair. A cup of warm rice wine rested between both hands. A slow smile spread across the face.
Everything was going exactly as planned.
One servant had just delivered good news. The men sent to kill the old Steward had reached the place marked on the secret note. By sunrise, there would be no witness left alive. No ledger. No proof.
"At last," Jingshan murmured before taking another drink. "The board is clear."
Outside the room, the halls felt strangely empty. Guards stood at their posts, but nobody noticed that several familiar faces were missing.
Confidence had become the greatest weakness.
...
Far from the estate, an old warehouse stood beside the river docks. Most people avoided the place after sunset. Broken walls leaned against each other, and the smell of damp wood filled the cold air.
A small lantern glowed near the back entrance.
Mingzhu pulled the hood lower over the face.
"Are you certain this is the place?" came the quiet question.
Zhanyuan nodded once.
"The map hidden inside Father's study led us here."
No more words were needed.
One quick strike from a sword handle shattered the rusty lock.
The door opened with a loud groan.
Dust floated through the air.
The building looked empty at first.
Then a weak voice came from below.
"Who's there?"
Both rushed toward the sound.
Hidden beneath loose wooden boards was a narrow staircase leading underground.
The smell became worse.
Cold stone walls surrounded a tiny prison cell.
An elderly man sat against the wall with iron chains around both wrists.
The face looked thinner than before. Clothes were dirty. Hair had turned almost completely white.
Yet the eyes remained clear.
The old Steward slowly stood.
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For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then a tired smile appeared.
"I knew Young Master would come."
Zhanyuan stepped forward and cut the chains with one clean swing.
"You waited long enough."
The old man rubbed sore wrists before bowing.
"I failed to protect your father."
"You survived," Zhanyuan answered softly. "That is enough."
Tears filled the Steward's eyes but never fell.
"There is still time."
Carefully, an old cloth bundle was pulled from beneath a loose stone.
Inside rested several books tied together with faded rope.
Mingzhu reached out carefully.
"The ledger?"
The Steward nodded.
"Not only the money records."
Hands shook while opening the first book.
Every page held names.
Dates.
Amounts of silver.
Secret meetings.
Bribes.
Hidden warehouses.
Smuggling routes.
Then came another book.
"This one..." the Steward whispered, "...is far more dangerous."
Zhanyuan opened it slowly.
The first page made the heart stop.
Maps.
Military maps.
Every northern defense point had been marked.
Supply routes.
Guard rotations.
Weak places along the border.
Beside each map was a payment received from foreign buyers.
Mingzhu stared in disbelief.
"This is more than corruption."
"It is betrayal," the Steward replied. "Wei Jingshan sold the Empire piece by piece."
Silence filled the room.
Selling family wealth was shameful.
Selling the country was unforgivable.
"If these pages reach the Emperor," Mingzhu said quietly, "everything changes."
The old Steward nodded.
"That is why I stayed alive."
...
Back at the Marquis estate, another man hurried toward the front gate.
The traitor among the guards wiped sweat from the forehead again and again.
Everything should have been finished.
The fake message had been delivered.
Jingshan's killers had gone after the Steward.
Soon the reward would come.
A better house.
More silver.
A new life.
The guard smiled while pushing open the main hall doors.
The smile disappeared immediately.
Only one lantern burned inside the room.
Zhanyuan sat calmly beside the table.
One hand rested on the sword.
Mingzhu stood near the window, watching the darkness outside.
Neither looked surprised.
Both had been waiting.
The guard froze.
A cold feeling spread through every part of the body.
Slowly, one foot moved backward.
The door suddenly closed.
Two loyal servants stepped forward.
Escape was gone.
"You came back later than expected," Mingzhu said without turning around.
"I...I was checking the outer walls."
"No."
The single word echoed across the room.
"You were meeting Wei Jingshan's men."
Fear flashed across the guard's face.
"I don't know what Lady Mingzhu means."
Zhanyuan reached beneath the table.
A small cloth bag landed on the floor.
Silver coins spilled across the wood.
The guard recognized them immediately.
Each carried a tiny mark scratched into the side.
Payment.
Every secret meeting had been recorded.
Every coin had been counted.
"You dropped one after leaving the garden three nights ago," Zhanyuan said.
Another item landed beside the coins.
A folded piece of paper.
The false note.
Color drained from the guard's face.
"You..."
"The servant you trusted works for us."
The room became completely silent.
Nobody needed to say anything else.
The game was over.
Slowly, both knees hit the floor.
Instead of begging, anger exploded.
"You think this changes anything?"
The shout echoed through the hall.
"Jingshan controls half the court! Tomorrow the Imperial Guard will arrest everyone inside this house!"
Zhanyuan rose from the chair.
Each step sounded calm.
Steady.
Certain.
The sword remained inside its sheath.
"There will be soldiers tomorrow."
Another step.
"They simply won't be yours."
The guard swallowed hard.
Mingzhu finally turned around.
Calm eyes met frightened ones.
"There are two roads left."
Silence.
"You can refuse."
Another pause.
"Then you die tonight."
The guard shook violently.
"The second road?"
"You return to Wei Jingshan."
Hope flashed across the frightened face.
"You will report success."
"What?"
"Tell the truth you want him to believe."
Mingzhu walked closer.
"Say the Steward is dead."
"Say every record burned."
"Say Zhanyuan believes the danger has passed."
Understanding slowly appeared.
"You want..."
"We want Jingshan asleep while the Emperor wakes."
The guard stared at both faces.
For the first time, true fear replaced loyalty.
Wei Jingshan had never trusted anyone.
These two had already planned every move.
No path remained except the one placed before trembling feet.
"I'll do it."
"Remember," Zhanyuan said quietly, "one lie to us, and no wall in this Empire will hide you."
The guard nodded again and hurried into the darkness.
The sound of running footsteps faded beyond the gate.
Only then did another figure enter the hall.
The Steward.
The old man looked toward the open doorway.
"Will the traitor keep the promise?"
Mingzhu answered first.
"Fear is stronger than greed."
A tired smile crossed the Steward's face.
"I hope you're right."
Zhanyuan untied the bundle holding the ledgers.
Tomorrow would decide everything.
Either the Emperor believed the truth...
...or everyone inside this house would die as traitors.
Outside, the first birds began singing.
Dawn was still far away, yet the longest night was almost over.
Far across the city, Wei Jingshan lifted another cup of wine and celebrated a victory that did not exist.
The serpent believed every enemy had fallen.
What waited instead was a trap built with patience, truth, and courage.
When the sun finally climbed above the palace walls, the mask would break.
The lies would end.
The guilty would stand in the light.
And the battle that had begun with whispers would soon shake the entire Empire.