The low-key prince summons trainees from the Imperial Household Department at the start of the game.

The steward and two trusted confidants of the Duan family were intercepted on their way to deliver the message.

The steward used the back alley, while his confidants used the cargo warehouse dock on the Gan River.

The three groups set off in three separate routes, thinking they could get away with it undetected, but they were all silently taken down less than a mile from the back street of the government office.

Elder Ying personally took action, using his peak seventh-grade cultivation to deal with several defenseless servants.

Without even needing to activate his qi and blood, he simply flicked a few pebbles and struck the acupoints of the three people.

The account books and letters hidden in the oil paper package, along with the two handwritten letters Duan Xi wrote to Xu Jie and Li Shaoyuan, fell into his hands intact.

Even after nightfall, the candles in the study of the Duan family mansion were still lit.

Duan Xi sat behind his desk, his hands clasped on his knees, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his robe.

He was waiting for the steward to return, waiting for news, whether it was a response from Xu Jie or a reply from Li Shaoyuan, it was better than being stuck in this dead silence.

The night wind outside the window rustled through the branches and leaves of the old locust tree.

In a daze, he heard someone walking down the corridor; was it the butler's footsteps?

He suddenly looked up, and the candlelight in the study flickered.

It wasn't the wind; all the doors and windows were tightly shut.

A figure in a gray robe appeared on the opposite side of the desk, carrying two packages wrapped in oil paper.

It was those two pieces of evidence that he had the butler send out.

Duan Xi's pupils contracted sharply, and his body instinctively leaned back, his back slamming heavily against the chair back. His lips moved several times before he finally managed to utter a trembling sentence: "You... how did you get in? Where's the butler? Where are my men?"

Old Eagle gently placed the two packs of oil paper on the desk, his movements slow, as if he were placing a fragile piece of porcelain.

He raised his eyes, his deep-set eyes showing no emotion in the candlelight, and his voice was hoarse and calm, as if he were talking about something insignificant: "Lord Duan need not wait any longer."

"Your men are all safe, but they are temporarily unable to speak. My young master has a few words for me to convey to Lord Duan."

Duan Xi stared intently at the two packets of oil paper on the table, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, a chill running down his spine to the back of his head.

Li Shaoyuan actually sent people to monitor him, cutting off his last escape route in advance.

He asked Li Shaoyuan in a hoarse voice what he wanted.

Old Eagle did not sit down, but stood opposite him on the desk, looking down at him, and began to convey Li Shaoyuan's words word by word.

"Duan Xi, I originally intended to spare your life. Letting you commit suicide in prison was to give you some dignity and also to leave a way out for the Duan family."

"But you just had to touch things you shouldn't have touched and write letters you shouldn't have written."

"If you confess your sins honestly, your wife, your son, and your one-year-old grandson can all live peacefully."

"But you insist on doing what you want, you want to suffer a lose-lose situation."

"Then I'll tell you, the fish will die, but the net won't break."

The color drained from Duan Xi's face instantly.

He stood up, bracing himself on the desk with both hands. His movement was so sudden and forceful that he swept the teacup to the ground, shattering it and scattering shards of porcelain everywhere.

His eyes were red and swollen as he hissed, "Dignity? Li Shaoyuan is talking to me about dignity?"

"Why didn't he use the word 'respectable' when he was trying to bribe me?"

"Why didn't he talk about decorum when he made me do those dirty things for him?"

"Over the years, I've done so many things for him, taken so many knife wounds for him. I balanced the accounts of Jiangxi Salt and Iron for him, and I signed the purchase orders for Zhao Huan's side for him."

"Even when Xu Jie came to investigate the case, I was the one who stood in front for him! And in the end, he thinks he can just brush me off with a 'I'm saving you some face'? He's dreaming!"

His voice echoed in the empty study, almost roaring by the end, his chest heaving violently.

"So you want to drag the young master down with you to die."

Old Eagle's voice was flat and emotionless, like a stagnant pool. "Before you sent the butler to deliver these letters, did you even consider how many people are in the Duan family?"

"You haven't even held your grandson, who just turned one year old, more than a few times, have you? The young master's exact words were, 'Duan Xi can die, but the Duan family doesn't have to be wiped out.' He gave you a chance, but you pushed it away yourself."

Duan Xi was shocked when he heard this, as if an invisible hand had grabbed his throat, and all his anger and roars were stuck in his throat.

Looking at the two packages of oil paper on the table, and at Old Eagle's calm, unwavering eyes, he finally understood something.

All his struggles, all his backup plans, all his self-righteous desperate attempts were nothing more than a futile struggle by a trapped beast before its death in the eyes of the other party.

He knelt down with a thud.

He cast aside all notions of dignity, respectability, and the authority he had held as a provincial inspector for over a decade.

He knelt before Elder Ying, clutching the hem of his robe tightly with both hands, his face upturned, tears streaming down his face, pleading incoherently.

He said he was confused and deserved to die, begging Young Master Li to spare his family.

He would take full responsibility for all the crimes himself, and would never implicate the Li family in a single word. He would return all the silver, land, and shops.

"Please, please tell Young Master Li that I, Duan Xi, have done my best for him in my life, even if I haven't achieved anything great."

"He wants me dead, I dare not live. He wants me to commit suicide in prison out of guilt. I will write my will now, I will write it however I want."

"But my wife is innocent, my son is innocent, and my little grandson is only one year old and can't even speak yet."

"I beg him to spare their lives, and I, Duan Xilai, will repay him by serving him like a slave for the rest of my life."

He was sobbing uncontrollably by the end, his forehead pounding against the blue bricks with a loud thud.

Old Eagle looked down at the former provincial inspector who had once held sway over the Jiangxi officialdom.

Looking at his old face, streaked with tears and blood, his eyes remained calm and undisturbed.

He slowly spoke, "Lord Duan, you've finally figured it out."

"The young master said that if you are willing to confess your crimes and take the blame for all of them, the Duan family members can live."

"But you just touched something you shouldn't have, so your wife and son must die, but your grandson can live."

"This is the young master's final bottom line. If you agree, write your will now, clearly stating your crimes in the salt and iron case, but do not mention the young master or the Li family at all."

"After I finish writing, I will go back to report. Your little grandson will leave Jiangxi safely. If you refuse, you know the consequences."

Duan Xi knelt on the ground, trembling all over. After a long while, he managed to squeeze out a few words through gritted teeth: "I... agree."

He slowly got up from the ground, staggered to the desk, and picked up the wolf-hair brush that had been with him for more than ten years.

He spread out a blank sheet of Xuan paper and began to write his confession and will.

He didn't mention Li at all, only writing it at the end of his confession.

"This guilty subject, Duan Xi, has failed the Emperor's grace and is ashamed before the court. All the blame lies solely with this guilty subject and has nothing to do with anyone else."

After finishing writing, he put down his pen and slumped into his chair as if all his bones had been removed.

Old Eagle stepped forward, picked up the confession and suicide note, read them from beginning to end, folded them, and put them into his sleeve.

He picked up the two packets of oil paper evidence from the table, turned around, and walked towards the door.