The Marquess's Mansion. Sun Miaomiao, who had obtained the "facial mask" from Xie Lingxi, lifted her ordinary male face and surveyed the grand courtyard walls of the mansion. After glancing around and confirming that no one was paying attention to her, she placed the companion spirit, Ling Yue, upon her forehead and entered the night-walk. Leaping over the wall with ease, she remained undetected under the protection of the night-walk, concealing all traces of movement and presence, thus passing unnoticed by the mansion's guards and guest scholars. She swiftly reached the inner courtyard. The Marquess's Mansion was vast, with courtyards separated by courtyards and walls connected wall to wall, and the constant flow of guards, servants, and maids was punctuated by the presence of elegant women and young ladies in flowing gowns. When Sun Miaomiao arrived at the inner courtyard, she just happened to see a young woman of about twenty-eight, accompanied by two maids, walking through a corridor beside the garden. The young woman moved with graceful poise and elegant grace. Noticing that the surroundings were empty, Sun Miaomiao employed her charm to bewitch the three. A common phenomenon in magic—ghostly walls. Sun Miaomiao immediately produced a hypnotic pocket watch from the bazaar warehouse, snapped it open, and, fixing her gaze on the young woman in her twenties, asked in a steady tone: "Where is your father?" This was the courtyard—someone might pass by at any moment. She had asked directly and to the point, saving every moment. The young woman in her twenties stared blankly and instinctively replied: "My father has been buried for many years now." "???" Sun Miaomiao paused, then realized she had misunderstood, and corrected herself: "What is your relationship with Prince Zhao Kai?" The young woman responded mechanically: "I am his concubine." Concubine? You're younger than even his daughters... Sun Miaomiao murmured to herself, not particularly surprised—after all, in this era, it was standard for noble families to have a "plum blossom overshadowing the peony" arrangement. "Where is Prince Zhao Kai?" she asked. "Prince Zhao Kai is enjoying wine and dancing in the main hall." "Has each generation of the Zhao family grown so indulged in music and revelry? The Southern Dynasty would have perished if that were true. Sun Miaomiao said, "After drinking wine and enjoying the dances, what would he do next?" A young woman of twenty-eight years old replied, "After the dances, the Marquis will return to his chambers to rest for half an hour. Afterward, he may attend a banquet outside, or host one at home—there's no fixed pattern." At this moment, Sun Miaomiao realized exactly how she could meet the Marquis. After asking for the location of the Marquis's chambers, she lifted the hypnosis and enchantments, then began her night-walk in a state of invisibility. The three—master and servant—moved steadily forward from their original position, maintaining a seamless pace, and throughout the journey, they noticed no anomaly. Watching them depart, Sun Miaomiao, still in her invisible state, continued toward the inner courtyard, bypassing guards and servants, and eventually reached the Marquis's chambers. There, she directly activated the Star-Transcendence technique to enter the room. The room was opulent and spacious, filled with paintings, antiques, and scrolls Sun Miaomiao stepped into view, hiding behind the screen in the inner chamber, patiently waiting. After about forty minutes, footsteps were heard outside the room. "Click~" The door opened, and a middle-aged man in a fine robe, with a well-proportioned, smooth physique, entered. The household servant who had followed him stopped at the doorway and closed the panel door behind them. Zhao Kai, his belly slightly protruding, picked up the teapot on the round table, took a sip, and walked straight toward the soft, spacious bed. At that moment, he suddenly turned toward the screen beside him, and in a low, firm voice asked: "Who is it?" Sun Miaomiao's voice came from behind the screen: "Your Grace, don't be alarmed. I have been sent by the Emperor to see you." Zhao Kai's rising call caught in his throat and was swallowed, though he did not fully believe it. He quietly stepped back, and with his right hand now glowing gently in his sleeve, he said: "A clear man doesn't act behind closed doors. Since you represent the Emperor, why hide behind the screen?" Sun Miao-miao stepped out from behind the screen, opened her inventory, and retrieved the little red hat. In front of Zhao Kai, she shook it vigorously, and a spectral figure holding a small horn fell out. Witnessing the ability to materialize objects out of thin air, Zhao Kai was struck with awe. This was precisely what Sun Miao-miao had intended—to cultivate an image of enigmatic grace. After the spectral figure with the horn landed, its hollow gaze subtly stirred, gaining vitality and a sense of spirit. Zhang Yuan-qing’s spirit materialized. Surveying the surroundings and confirming the environment, Zhang Yuan-qing raised the horn and smiled, saying, “It’s been a while—I’m delighted to see Your Majesty’s distinguished bearing remains unchanged.” Zhao Kai stared at the spectral figure, puzzled, “You—you are the Emperor?” Zhang Yuan-qing replied unexpectedly, “With only a slight attention to current affairs, the Prince should know by now the background of the ‘rebellious figure’ who recently caused a stir at the Ministry of Justice.” Then, he extended his hand toward Sun Miao-miao beside him. She immediately understood, and presented the Imperial Seal. Upon seeing the Imperial Seal of Jade, Zhao Kai no longer hesitated, and promptly bowed deeply: "Your servant Zhao Kai, bows before the Emperor." "Please don't bother with formalities," Zhang Yuancheng returned the Imperial Seal to Sun Miao-miao, then gestured for her to retrieve the eight-tone music box, so that the pleasant, melodic sounds filled the room. Only then did Zhang Yuancheng speak: "Uncle Wang, the reason the deceased officials came to see you this time is to inquire about an old matter." Zhao Kai nodded slightly: "Then, Your Majesty, please go on." His tone remained respectful—though Emperor Zhao Shun had been incompetent, to the Zhao family members he still held a certain status, a natural filter of affection. Though they often criticized him, they never resorted to the biting, bitter tone one might expect from outsiders. "Exactly how did Duke Wu Xing die?" Zhang Yuancheng's very first question caused Zhao Kai's face to pale instantly. "Your Majesty, how did you suddenly bring up such an old matter?" Zhao Kai's expression shifted constantly. "Wu Xin certainly died of illness—he had been engaged in constant warfare for years, worn out by his labors, and plagued by injuries. Upon returning to the capital, he suddenly fell ill and passed away shortly thereafter." Nonsense! Wu Xin was in his prime, capable of commanding tens of thousands of Shen Rui troops. He must have been a true master of his craft. How could he have simply succumbed to exhaustion? Zhang Yuanqing said, "Uncle Wang, I fully understand the gravity of this matter. Should it become known, the consequences would be dire. But now the Zhao family is in peril—should you conceal it any further, the very throne will be at risk." Zhao Kai paused, "What does the Emperor mean by that?" "Do you not wonder why I have been living among common folk, and why I have chosen to reside temporarily at the Tianji Building?" Zhang Yuanqing said solemnly. "Just recently, Zheng Wenhan rebelled, leading the Imperial City Guard to launch an assault on me with the intent to eliminate me. It was the loyal guards, trained and nurtured by my mother, who sacrificed themselves to escort me out of the palace." The Grand Minister is the Golden Bird. Should Zhao Kai be made aware of his schemes, the flow of destiny would be disturbed accordingly, and the Grand Minister would then be able to deduce his present actions. Zhao Kai's blood pressure soared; his anger reached its peak. "Unbelievable! A mere outsider, daring to covet the Zhao dynasty's throne! I myself recommended to the Empress Dowager that Zheng Wenhan be executed back then, but she, moved by familial ties, hesitated—her compassion ultimately led to a great disaster." Indeed, he knew the truth! Zhang Yuanqing asked, "Uncle Wang, please don't withhold anything—tell me everything that happened then." Zhao Kai's fiercely angry expression now revealed hesitation. Zhang Yuanqing calmly said, "I can assure you, whatever you did back then, will be forgiven and never held against you." Only then did Zhao Kai relax his facial muscles and say, "Wu Xin was assassinated at the inn. The mastermind behind the plot was indeed Zheng Wenhan." "Zheng Wenhan back then had not yet achieved his present standing; his wings were still unformed. Thus, this schemer forged a message from the Empress, summoned a group of elite officers from the Imperial City Office, laid an ambush at the inn during the night, and killed Wu Xin." "Why is Wu Xin so inflexible? He's constantly dreaming of northern campaigns, ignoring practical realities. He commands the Divine Sharp Army—a world-class force of tiger and wolf troops—and even the Empress Dowager and the court have no leverage over him, let alone Zheng Wenhan." Zhang Yuanqing finally grasped it all. "So Zheng Wenhan, seizing the opportunity when Wu Xin returns to the capital to demand funds and supplies, pretends to ride on Wu Xin's coattails, leverages the Empress Dowager's authority to eliminate Wu Xin, then uses this very incident to bind the Empress Dowager to his own ship, making her bear the blame while reaping all the benefits himself." Zhao Kai nodded. "After I defeated Wu Xin's old officers in the city, I strongly urged the Empress Dowager to execute Zheng Wenhan. Alas, the Empress Dowager, true to her nature as a woman, proved too kind-hearted to part with her brother. "However, since then, the Empress Dowager no longer trusts Zheng Wenhan as she once did. She has abandoned her original plan to select a consort from the Zheng family and instead chose a daughter from the Yang family—precisely to strengthen the Yang family "Oh, it's a pity that the Empress Regent has been so preoccupied with state affairs these years, and has not given the Emperor sufficient guidance and instruction..." At this, he suddenly realized what he had said, and bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive me—my remarks were not meant to imply anything else." In other words, pure mockery. Zhang Yuanqing muttered to himself, holding the small megaphone, pausing for several seconds before saying, "Among the skilled assassins who took part in the plot against Wu Xin, are any still alive?" Zhao Kai shook his head, "They were secretly executed by the Empress Regent long ago." "Then, do you have any concrete evidence for what you've just said?" Zhang Yuanqing asked. Zhao Kai sighed, "After Wu Xin's death, Zheng Wenhan rose rapidly in rank and status—this alone is the strongest proof." The evidence was indeed weak, but at least Zhao Kai himself served as a credible witness. Zhang Yuanqing said, "Uncle, let us keep this matter quiet for now. I'll come to see you in a few days, and we'll plan our next major move together." Zhao Kai spoke solemnly: "Zheng Wenhan intends to overthrow our Zhao dynasty—his ambition is worthy of condemnation. For years, he has suppressed and undermined numerous members of the imperial clan, fostering deep resentment among them. As long as the Emperor raises his voice, we are ready to risk our lives, even to the point of plunging into boiling water and leaping through fire." The imperial clan and the Emperor share a common interest. The Zhao family has ruled the realm for five centuries. Though weakened by Zheng Wenhan's relentless efforts, they remain a formidable force—thin as a camel may be, they still outshine a horse. — A sixth-rank star official can simultaneously generate over a dozen thoughts and control more than a dozen shadow corpses, while at the level of sovereign, one can command dozens of saint-tier shadow corpses or two sovereign-quality shadow corpses. Shadow corpse Zhang Yuanqing raises his small megaphone, "Get ready for swift horses—I'm heading out of the capital." Fifteen minutes later, the later-retrieved shadow corpses mount swift horses and depart the capital in haste. Located some forty miles from the capital, Zhang Yuanqing rides out in the afternoon and reaches Linxia by dusk. After eliminating a scouting unit from the northern dynasty, he successfully approaches the city gates of Linxia. The city walls appear in disrepair, with deep gray stone bearing scorched and blood-stained marks, as well as cracks and dents from arrows and siege engines. Stone masons work tirelessly, constantly chiseling and repairing the walls, while laborers repair the fortifications without cease. The hooves tapped steadily, the sides lined with layers upon layers of corpses, stiff and shriveled under the gradually cooling climate—broken arrows, shattered armor, war-swords with blades curled, horses laid down... The spirit of battle hovered above the city walls, the cold, damp air rising unbroken. Zhang Yuanqing had never seen such a scene and was deeply moved. The two best ways to win the hearts of the people are to reduce taxes and to combat corrupt officials and wealthy landowners. The proposal to reduce taxes was rejected by the Grand Secretariat and the ministers. On one hand, Zheng Wenhan has monopolized power beyond his authority, weakening the imperial authority; on the other, military campaigns are underway, yet the treasury is depleted. To implement tax reductions now would leave the state without funds to sustain the war effort, hence the strong resistance from the ministers. The initiative to combat corrupt officials and landowners also faced opposition—specifically, Zhang Yuanqing's targets were largely officials within Zheng's own faction. As for the landowners, several notorious cases were selected, their estates seized and their families exiled, and the proceeds from the seizures were used by Zhang Yuanqing as disaster relief funds. This measure earned widespread approval from both urban and rural citizens, though it remained a modest effort with limited overall impact. Nevertheless, after the political directives encountered resistance, Zhang Yuanqing promptly issued a self-critical edict stating: "How incompetent and dull I have been as emperor! My ministers of corruption now dominate the court. I wish to remove them, but they will surely oppose. Perhaps I no longer deserve to be emperor at all. Yet the northern army is rapidly approaching our gates—then let me, with this frail body of seven chi, remain to guard the nation's frontier." This edict won the sympathy of the common people and the gentry, while tarnishing Zheng Wenhuan's reputation. Zheng Wenhuan was so enraged that he longed to draw his sword and charge into the Tianji Building to strike the indifferent sovereign dead. Zhang Yuanqing's strategy went far beyond this. He deeply understood that self-pity is an essential element of effective performance. Following the issuance of the self-critical edict, he dispatched Yang Zheng with his personal instructions to the palace, citing the monotonous and unstimulating life at Tianji Building as the reason, and thus requested the removal of a large number of treasures. Along the way, he encountered repeated obstruction from Zheng Wenhuan. A conflict arose between the two parties, but fortunately, Zhao Kai, accompanied Immediately, Yang Zheng, acting on the emperor's behalf, publicly sold the imperial treasures in the capital, declaring that the silver and cash obtained from the sales would be used in two ways: part would be deposited into the national treasury to serve as taxes for the capital's citizens, and the remainder would be allocated for disaster relief to assist people living outside the city. How could the ancient people have ever witnessed such elaborate measures? They were completely taken aback, even the chief advisor found himself at a loss. Yang Yuanqing's dragon energy grew increasingly strong, yet as the dragon energy waned, the "roaring" sounds from the Tianji Building at night grew more frantic, approaching a state of uncontrollable chaos. ... That morning at the Yang family estate. In the inner hall, the corpse-like Yang Yuanqing, holding a small megaphone, spoke in the pleasant melody of the eight-tone music box: "Master, Xiao Yuan, have you both now recovered to Level Six?"