Deposed? I couldn't be happier! I wouldn't even be a dog to the crown prince.

"Snap—!"

A pale white bolt of lightning tore through the dark night sky, followed by a deafening thunderclap outside Chang'an City.

Heavy rain.

This was the first rain of late autumn, chilling to the bone, as if it were washing away all the sins in the world.

Thirty miles outside Chang'an City, in a long-abandoned mountain god temple, several bonfires were burning, their flames teetering on the brink of collapse.

The firelight illuminated several distorted, ferocious faces, making them appear particularly sinister and terrifying.

"Old Cui is dead."

The speaker was Lu Zhaolin, the head of a branch of the Lu family of Fanyang in Chang'an. He held a chipped wine bowl in his hand, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, and his eyes were bloodshot, making him look like a lone wolf driven to the brink of despair.

"She died of anger! She was driven to her death by that eight-year-old brat!"

"Bang!"

The Zheng family head from Xingyang, who was sitting opposite him, slammed his fist hard on the dusty offering table.

"We're next."

Manager Zheng gritted his teeth, his voice seeping out from between them, carrying a chilling despair: "Bookstores have sprung up all over the world, but our private school has closed; the imperial examination system has been reformed, and our students have fled. Now even our last few acres of barren land are going to be taken away."

"This isn't just weakening the power of the feudal lords; it's clearly an attempt to destroy our aristocratic families, to desecrate our ancestral graves!"

Outside the temple, the wind and rain intensified, sounding as if countless wronged souls were wailing.

The steward of the Wang family in Taiyuan huddled in a corner, trembling like a leaf.

"How about... we go and beg the Crown Prince? Donate all our wealth, maybe we can save our lives..."

"fart!"

Lu Zhaolin whirled around, spitting in the man's face. "Beg? Did that old bastard Cui De beg? And what happened? He vomited three liters of blood and died on the spot!"

"That little madman Li Chengqian, his heart is black! He doesn't want us to submit, he wants us all dead!"

"Then...what do we do?" Steward Wang asked, his voice trembling with tears. "We can't win. He has the Great Snow Dragon Riders and the Embroidered Uniform Guards. We have nothing left."

"Who said we have nothing left?"

Suddenly, Zheng, who had been silent all along, raised his head, and a kind of madness flashed in his cloudy eyes.

He stood up, walked behind the mountain god statue, and forcefully pushed aside a clump of weeds.

Several large boxes, completely covered with tarpaulins, were revealed.

"This is..." Everyone was stunned.

"This is our last remaining treasure."

Manager Zheng walked over, ripped off the tarpaulin, and pried open the box lid.

In the dim firelight, a cold, sharp glint stung everyone's eyes.

iron.

Dark, heavy refined iron!

Moreover, it's not pig iron, but wrought iron that has been forged and can be used to make weapons and arrowheads!

"This...this is contraband!" Manager Wang exclaimed in shock, collapsing to the ground. "Possessing refined iron is punishable by death!"

"Why bother with laws when we're about to die?"

Lu Zhaolin rushed over, grabbed a piece of iron ingot, felt its icy touch, and a ferocious smile appeared on his face.

"We still have 30,000 catties of refined iron in our hands. This is a stockpile that our families have kept in the cellars of Chang'an for decades, originally intended for the future use of forging private armies."

"Now, it's no longer needed."

He turned around, looked at everyone, and spoke in a sinister and vicious tone.

"If the Tang Dynasty won't give us a way to survive, we'll change masters!"

"I have already made contact with the people on the grasslands. The Western Turkic caravan is waiting in the Qinling Mountains."

"If this 30,000 jin of refined iron were transported to the grasslands, how many scimitars could it be forged? How many arrowheads could it be made?"

"We don't want money, we just want one thing."

Manager Zheng chimed in, his voice like the hooting of an owl: "Chaos is coming! Utter chaos!"

"Let the Turks take this iron, storm into the pass, and march into Chang'an!"

"As long as Chang'an falls into chaos, and as long as Li Shimin and his son are preoccupied with their own problems, we can take advantage of the confusion to pack our valuables and escape to the south, or even flee abroad!"

"This is called—using one wolf to devour another!"

Everyone fell silent.

This is treason.

This is treason.

This means handing over millions of people from Guanzhong to foreign tribes for slaughter.

But after only a few breaths, the fear of death and the resentment towards Li Chengqian overwhelmed the last shred of conscience.

"Let's do it!"

Manager Wang scrambled to his feet, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Since we're going to die anyway, we might as well drag the Tang Dynasty down with us!"

"Yes! If we're not having a good time, nobody else should either!"

"Transport it tonight! Take advantage of the downpour so the soldiers can't see it!"

A group of gamblers, driven mad by greed, clasped hands in a dilapidated temple and devised a treacherous plan that would plunge Guanzhong into a bloodbath.

What they didn't know was...

Right above their heads, on the roof beam covered in cobwebs.

A black spider is slowly descending along the spider silk.

Above the spider, a pair of eyes, colder than the autumn rain, were staring intently at the group of people below through the gaps in the tiles.

Shen Lian, commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

He looked like a giant bat, hanging upside down in the shadow of the roof beam, barely breathing.

The embroidered spring knife in his hand was not drawn, but the knuckles of his hand, which was resting on the hilt, had turned white.

"Thirty thousand catties of refined iron..."

Shen Lian silently counted the number in his mind, the killing intent in his eyes almost solidifying.

Those beasts.

How could they dare to sell such strategic materials to the Turks just to save their own lives?

If the Turks got their hands on it and turned around to use it on the Tang soldiers, how many people would die?

He wanted to jump down right now and chop those scumbags into mincemeat.

But he held back.

His Highness said he wanted to catch a big fish.

Arresting just these few key figures from the collateral branches is useless. We need to catch them red-handed, capture the Turkic caravan that made the contact, and uproot this poisonous thorn buried in the body of the Tang Dynasty!

"Let's go, let's go quickly."

Shen Lian watched as the group of people below began to laboriously move the boxes, a cruel smile curving his lips.

"The gates of hell have been opened for you. Don't be late."

……

Half an hour later.

A convoy of more than a dozen large trucks, draped in raincoats, took advantage of the downpour and darkness to leave the mountain god statue silently and head towards the depths of the Qinling Mountains.

The wheels pressed deep ruts into the muddy road due to the heavy load, which were quickly filled with rainwater.

They thought they had done something perfect.

They thought the torrential rain was God helping them.

Little did they know, death was already following behind them.

Shen Lian floated down from the roof beam like a ghost.

Instead of chasing after the convoy, he took out a small bamboo tube from his pocket and walked to the drafty window of the dilapidated temple.

A jet-black homing pigeon had landed there sometime earlier, its feathers wet with rain, yet it still looked spirited.

Shen Lian stuffed a piece of paper with extremely small characters into the bamboo tube and tied it to the leg of the carrier pigeon.

"Go."

He gently lifted it up.

The carrier pigeon took flight and instantly plunged into the vast rain, like a black lightning bolt, heading straight for Chang'an.

……

The Eastern Palace, Lizheng Hall.

The rain pattered against the windowpane, making it hard to fall asleep.

Li Chengqian did not sleep as usual.

He was half-reclining on the soft couch, holding a pure white Persian cat in his arms, stroking it idly.

The cat purred contentedly.

But Li Chengqian's eyes remained fixed on the window, as if he were waiting for something.

"Your Highness, it's late, you should rest."

Xu Xiao walked over with a cup of hot tea and gently advised him.

"I can't sleep."

Li Chengqian sighed, "My right eyelid keeps twitching. I have a feeling that some treacherous people want to harm me... oh no, harm me."

The voice just fell.

"Coo coo—"

A faint flapping sound of wings pierced through the rain.

Li Chengqian's eyes lit up instantly.

The black carrier pigeon, soaking wet, landed precisely on the windowsill of Lizheng Hall, shaking off the water droplets.

Xu Xiao's eyes narrowed, he stepped forward, took the bamboo tube off the pigeon's leg, and handed it to Li Chengqian with both hands.

Li Chengqian took it and unfolded the strip of paper, which was only two fingers wide.

By the candlelight, he glanced at the contents.

Just one glance.

His hand, which was stroking the cat, suddenly stopped.

The Persian cat in her arms seemed to sense the sudden, terrifying chill emanating from its owner. Startled, it meowed and puffed up its fur as it darted away.

Li Chengqian slowly sat up straight, and the laziness and playfulness on his face disappeared at that moment.

Instead, there was a bottomless icy abyss.

"Thirty thousand catties of refined iron..."

"Treason..."

"Traitor..."

He muttered those words under his breath, each syllable sounding like ice shards squeezed from between his teeth.

"it is good."

"very nice."

Li Chengqian held the note in his hand to the candlelight, watching it slowly turn to ashes.

The firelight illuminated his youthful yet chilling face.

"I originally thought you were just greedy."

"I never expected you guys to be bad."

"Evil to the core, utterly rotten."

He slowly stood up and walked towards the map of the Tang Dynasty hanging on the wall.

"Old Xu."

"This old servant is here." Xu Xiao sensed his young master's anger, bowed his head, and dared not even breathe loudly.

"Tell Qinglong."

Li Chengqian's voice was soft, yet it carried a chilling, bloody scent.

"The net can be taken in now."

"This time, it's not just about killing."

"I'll show them what... Nine Clans Elimination Game" really means."