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

The ancient Qinling trail was shrouded in torrential rain at night.

On the muddy mountain road, more than a dozen fully loaded trucks were struggling to move forward.

The wheels sank into the mud, making a teeth-grinding "squeak" sound.

The coachman, wearing a straw raincoat, waved his whip while muttering curses about the damned weather.

"Hurry up, all of you!"

The foreman wiped the rain off his face and looked back anxiously.

"Once we get past this hurdle, we'll be able to make contact with the Turkic caravans!"

"Once the goods are delivered, this job will be done! The master will reward you handsomely when we get back!"

Upon hearing the word "reward," the guards, soaked to the bone by the rain, finally had a glint of greed in their eyes.

They didn't know what was in the car.

I didn't dare ask.

All they knew was that this shipment was more valuable than their lives.

"Boom—!"

A thunderclap boomed, and a blinding flash of lightning instantly illuminated the canyon.

Taking advantage of that fleeting moment of light, the foreman suddenly pulled on the reins.

His pupils contracted sharply, and his heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by a cold, large hand.

In front.

On the narrow mountain path that was originally deserted, a row of dark figures appeared at some point.

They stood silently in the rain, dressed in dark green flying fish robes, with long, narrow embroidered spring knives at their waists and ferocious bronze masks on their faces.

Rain dripped from the brims of their hats, but it couldn't extinguish the murderous aura that soared to the sky.

They were like a group of soul-reaping messengers from the underworld, waiting for the arrival of the dead.

"Whoa—!"

The caravan was thrown into chaos, with frightened mules and horses neighing anxiously.

"Wha...who is it?!"

The foreman, trembling, drew his sword and roared, his voice trembling with fear, "We're merchants! If you know what's good for you, get out of the way! Otherwise..."

"Trading?"

A cold, eerie voice seemed to ring out right next to his eardrums.

Shen Lian slowly emerged from the darkness, the Embroidered Spring Blade in his hand flashing a chilling light in the rainy night.

"Traveling 30,000 catties of refined iron in the middle of the night?"

"Your business is quite large."

The steward shuddered, his face turning deathly pale.

Finished!

The secret has been leaked!

"Charge! Charge through!"

The foreman let out a desperate roar, a glint of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes, "Kill them all! Leave no one alive!"

Those guards were all elite assassins raised by powerful families for many years. Upon hearing the order, although they were terrified, they still howled and drew their swords, charging forward.

"court death."

Shen Lian's lips curled into a cruel smile. He didn't even raise his knife, but simply waved his left hand lightly.

"put."

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

A chilling sound of bowstring vibrations rang out.

Countless cold stars suddenly lit up on both sides of the dark road.

Those are the unique three-edged armor-piercing arrows of the Divine Arm Bow!

"Puff puff puff—!"

The sound of sharp blades piercing flesh was as dense as a torrential downpour.

The dozen or so suicide soldiers at the forefront didn't even utter a sound before they were shot into pincushions and fell straight down into the mud.

Blood gushed out, instantly staining the pooled water red.

This was a massacre with no suspense whatsoever.

Faced with the most elite intelligence agency in the Tang Dynasty, these so-called family assassins were as fragile as paper toys.

"Leave them alive? No need."

Shen Lian coldly looked at the injured who were still struggling, his tone as indifferent as if he were talking about what to eat for dinner.

"Finish off."

The Imperial Guards, like silent grim reapers, stepped forward and brought their blades down.

A few breaths later.

The entire valley fell silent again, with only the rustling of raindrops on the leaves and the strong, lingering smell of blood.

The manager is still alive.

But he was not far from death.

His legs were pierced by two sharp arrows, pinning him to the ground, and he was clutching his thighs, screaming like a pig being slaughtered.

Shen Lian walked up to the first large cart and suddenly flicked his long sword.

"Splash—"

The tarpaulin covering it was thrown off, revealing large wooden crates underneath.

"Snap!"

The blade cleaved open the lock.

The lid of the box was opened.

There was no gold or silver jewelry.

It was filled to the brim with dark, gleaming iron arrowheads!

And those stacks of polished, gleaming armor plates, specially made for heavy armor!

Shen Lian casually grabbed a handful of arrows, weighed them in his hand, and the killing intent in his eyes almost solidified.

"This is good stuff."

"They are all made of the finest refined steel. If this were shot into the bodies of our Tang soldiers, it would leave a hole in their bodies with a single arrow."

He turned around abruptly, walked up to the steward, and stomped on his already mangled knee.

"ah--!!!"

The manager was in so much pain that his whole body was convulsing, and his eyes rolled back as he was about to faint.

"Don't faint."

Shen Lian bent down and patted his cheek with the blood-stained blade of his knife.

"Tell me, where are the ledgers?"

"Where is the letter?"

"Don't tell me you don't. You aristocratic families are very particular about keeping records when you do business."

The foreman stammered, his eyes darting around, "I...I don't know...I'm just a deliveryman..."

"Yeah?"

Shen Lian smiled.

Without saying a word, he swung his knife directly.

"puff!"

One of the steward's ears flew off.

"Ah—! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Their psychological defenses crumbled instantly.

The steward wailed, pointing with a trembling finger to the inner compartment of the last carriage.

"In...inside...in the hidden compartment..."

Shen Lian gave his subordinate a wink.

Soon, a small sandalwood box was delivered to Shen Lian.

There was no lock.

Shen Lian opened the box.

Inside lay several thick account books and a stack of correspondence that had not yet been burned.

By the light of the torch, Shen Lian casually opened a book.

The first page.

"On the third day of the ninth month of the first year of Zhenguan, the Cui family of Boling donated five thousand catties of refined iron, which was converted into silver..."

"The Lu family of Fanyang produced three thousand sets of armor plates..."

"The Wang family of Taiyuan..."

The shocking names and the appalling transactions were laid bare, clear and unambiguous.

Furthermore, those letters bore the private seals of the heads of various families, and their contents were so explicit that they were chilling.

"...We offer ironware to the Khan, hoping that when he marches south, he will avoid our ancestral home..."

"...After the mission is accomplished, I am willing to offer 100,000 shi of grain..."

Shen Lian closed the box and took a deep breath.

This is not an account book.

This is the Book of Life and Death of the King of Hell.

Every single word here is enough to have the entire lineage of these major families hacked back and forth ten times at the execution ground!

"The evidence is irrefutable."

Shen Lian carefully tucked the box into his bosom and turned to look in the direction of Chang'an.

That majestic imperial capital was now asleep in the deep night, looking so peaceful and serene.

But he knew.

This peace is about to be shattered.

"Send a signal."

Shen Lian coldly uttered three words.

"call out--!"

A red signal flare, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, pierced through the dark rain curtain and soared into the sky.

"Bang!"

Crimson fireworks exploded in the night sky outside Chang'an, dazzling yet carrying a chilling blood-red hue.

……

Inside Chang'an City, in the Eastern Palace, at the Star-Picking Tower.

Li Chengqian did not go to sleep for the so-called "three days and three nights".

He stood on the highest terrace, wearing only a thin white robe, letting the night wind tousle his hair.

On the small table in front of him was a pot of hot tea, still steaming.

He held an exquisite white jade teacup in his hand, his gaze calmly fixed on the dark southern night sky.

That's the direction of the Qinling Mountains.

"Your Highness, it's late and the dew is heavy. Be careful not to catch a cold."

Xu Xiao's figure, as weathered as old tree bark, appeared behind him, holding a fox fur coat, intending to drape it over his shoulders.

"Need not."

Li Chengqian waved his hand, but his gaze did not leave.

"I'm waiting."

"Waiting for the rain to stop, waiting for a fire to start."

Before he could finish speaking...

Suddenly, a red light appeared on the distant horizon.

Immediately afterwards, the red light exploded, like the red spider lilies blooming in the night sky.

The eerie red color was reflected in Li Chengqian's pupils.

He curled his lips into a smile that was both innocent and cruel.

"They're here."

He raised his teacup and offered a toast to the firework in the distance.

"Shen Lian is indeed reliable when it comes to getting things done."

"Now that we have the evidence..."

Li Chengqian tilted his head back and drank the hot tea in the cup in one gulp.

"Snapped!"

He casually tossed the fine white jade teacup off the high-rise building, where it shattered in the darkness.

"Azure Dragon".

he called softly.

"Your subject is here!"

From the shadows downstairs came a low, synchronized roar.

Those were three thousand Imperial Guards who had been sharpening their knives and waiting for a long time.

Li Chengqian turned around, his back to the city lights, his voice languid yet carrying a resolute air of life and death.

"Before dawn, I want to see everyone on that list kneeling before me."

"Whether dead or alive."

"Close the net!"