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

The confessions from the prison piled up on Qin Wu's desk like snowflakes.

More than forty people, dozens of testimonies, cross-referencing, and meticulous investigation revealed that all the clues ultimately pointed to the same place.

The Li family of Jinyang.

The assassin who killed Su Yuanyi, the Minister of Works, was a member of the Li family's secret guard.

Those who delivered letters to the residences of the officials of the Six Ministries and bribed the prison officials of the Court of Judicial Review were also people from the Li family.

Even the token found on the body of the assassin who ambushed the Ministry of Revenue official that night faintly bore the mark of the Li family's secret guards. Although most of the lines of the emblem had been worn away, the remaining edges and corners perfectly matched the forging characteristics of the Li family's secret guards' tokens.

This evidence is not irrefutable.

Experienced interrogators can tell that some details in the statements contradict each other, as if they have been manipulated before being spoken.

Some of the timelines for identification and the records of physical evidence leaving the warehouse do not match.

If you look closely at the dark patterns on that token with a high-powered magnifying glass, you will find that the polishing method of the edges is slightly different from the Li family's usual method.

But at a time when the emperor was furious and the entire court was silent, this evidence was already sufficient.

Qin Wu flipped through the stack of confessions again and circled the words "Li Family Secret Guard Camp" with a vermilion pen.

He did not report it immediately. Instead, he separated the contradictory parts of the testimonies and set them aside. Then he bound the rest into a book, along with a brief report, and sent it to the palace.

The report contained only one sentence: "Based on the existing confessions and physical evidence, the Li family of Jinyang is most deeply involved. I request that their officials in charge in the capital be detained for investigation."

In the East Warm Pavilion, Zhou Qian finished reading the report, remained silent for a long time, and then wrote a single word at the end: "Approved."

Before dawn, Qin Wu made his move.

Li Shaoyuan had his own information channels in the capital.

He had a house in the south of the city. The courtyard wall was not high, and the back door led to a narrow alley. At the end of the alley was the direction of the West City Water Gate.

He walked this road many times, each time at a leisurely pace, sometimes stopping at the steamed bun shop at the alley entrance to buy two hot steamed buns and tuck them into his pocket.

But things are different today.

Before dawn this morning, he heard strange noises outside the house.

The sound of horses' hooves wasn't just one or two, but a whole troop.

The sound of horses' hooves hitting the bluestone slabs was like sections of iron chains being dragged across the ground, dense and heavy.

He quickly changed into a gray tunic and went out through the back door.

Behind him followed a middle-aged man in a gray robe. The man had very high brow bones and thin cheekbones. He walked almost silently, like a shadow sliding along the wall.

That was a retainer whom the Li family had secretly kept at great expense. His surname was He, and he was a seventh-rank martial artist, specifically tasked with protecting the young master's safety.

The Li family raised him for twelve years, bought him land outside the city, and helped him get his brothers out of prison three times. He was considered one of the most reliable keys the Li family had in secret.

Ordinary fifth or sixth-rank pursuers couldn't even touch the hem of his clothes, let alone get close.

But just as they reached the long bridge outside the water gate, a troop of Zhenwu Division cavalry suddenly appeared in front of them.

The armor leaves gleamed coldly in the dawn, and the horses' breath condensed into wisps of white mist in the cold air.

The cavalry lined up at the bridgehead, completely sealing off the bridge surface. Every horse remained motionless, as if nailed to the bluestone slab.

Qin Wu stood right in the center of the bridgehead, his hands behind his back. He wasn't even wearing a cloak, just a black military officer's short brown robe with his belt tied very tightly around his waist. He looked like an iron-cast door god.

Behind him, four captains held iron chains, the ends of which were fastened to copper rings on the bridge railing, swaying slightly in the morning breeze.

"Young Master Li," Qin Wu spoke, his voice low, as if greeting an acquaintance, "Where are you headed so early?"

Li Shaoyuan stopped on the stone bricks in the middle of the bridge.

He could see the number of cavalrymen on the other side and the formation that the patrol soldiers on both sides of the bridge were closing in.

The expression on the face of He Gongfeng behind him changed drastically. He stepped forward and shielded Li Shaoyuan behind him.

The worshipper let out a low growl, his blood and qi surging, and two short swords slid out from his sleeves. The hilts were wrapped in faded coarse cloth, and the blades gleamed in the dawn mist, reflecting a cold light.

He lunged at Qin Wu, his two short swords tracing two intersecting arcs, one above the other, one horizontal and one vertical, the sound of the blades cutting through the air sharp as a whistle.

A full-force strike from a seventh-rank martial artist is enough to shatter rocks and break walls, and enough to cut an ordinary military officer in half within ten steps.

But Qin Wu didn't even raise his hand.

He didn't even glance at the figure rushing towards him. Just as He Gongfeng was three feet in front of him and the twin blades were no more than a hand's breadth away from his neck, he gently extended his right palm from his sleeve.

The movement looked extremely slow, like waving an arm underwater, but it was actually so fast that no one present could see how his hand moved from his sleeve to the chest of the offering.

The moment the palm struck his chest, He Gongfeng abruptly stopped, as if he had crashed into an invisible wall. His feet plowed two shallow grooves into the bluestone slab, and the leather soles of his shoes were worn until they were smoking.

Then Qin Wu gently spat out from his palm.

He Gongfeng's chest suddenly caved in, and the fabric on his back burst open with a "poof," a line of blood shooting out from his back, drawing a dark red arc in the morning mist.

He was sent flying backward, his two short swords slipping from his hands. One sword flew into the river below the bridge, while the other landed on the bridge and spun twice before coming to a stop.

He Gongfeng's body slammed against the stone railing by the bridge, his back hitting the edge of the railing with a dull thud. He rolled twice off the railing and fell onto the bridge surface, his limbs outstretched, and he never got up again.

His eyes were still open, but there was no light left in them.

The patrol soldiers on the bridge were dumbfounded.

Someone instinctively took a half step back, their boot heels clicking rapidly on the stone slabs.

They had seen Qin Wu kill people, and they had seen him pry open the mouths of those noble young men in the prison with a short knife, but no one had ever seen him kill like this.

Without a knife, without a sword, and without even a second move, with just one palm strike, a seventh-rank martial artist was dead beyond any hope of survival. His ribs shattered into pieces, and a bloody gash exploded on his back, leaving him no chance to struggle.

The soldiers exchanged glances, but none of them spoke.

They suddenly understood what separated them from the person at the bridgehead.

The difference between the seventh and ninth ranks is not a rank, but a chasm.

Like a bottomless river, people standing on this bank can only see the shadows of the mountains on the opposite bank when they look up, and they can't see where the road is at all.

Qin Wu is that towering peak standing in the capital.

Li Shaoyuan stood in the middle of the bridge, his face deathly pale.

He witnessed the entire process of He Gongfeng falling, saw the light in his eyes go from bright to dim, and saw one of the two short knives sink into the water while the other lay quietly on the bridge.

His legs were starting to go weak, and he felt as if the tendons and bones had been pulled out of his knees, but he still stood there and didn't run away, because running away was pointless.

He looked down at his gray cloth shorts, the collar still bearing a small ink stain that had been accidentally spilled on him while he was writing in the study last night, which now looked like a dark fingernail in the morning light.

Qin Wu slowly walked up to him.

The two people were no more than three steps apart.

Qin Wu looked down at him as if he were looking at an ignorant child. There was no contempt or pity in his eyes, only a very calm and focused look, like he was completing a program.

"Are you walking on your own, or are you being helped along?"

Li Shaoyuan closed his eyes.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but the words didn't come out.

He could hear his own heartbeat, thumping loudly and rapidly, like someone beating a drum in his chest.

He recalled his father Li Chongxi's perpetually expressionless face and the words his father had spoken.

"In the capital, preserving your life is more important than anything else."

He opened his eyes, glanced at Qin Wu, then lowered his head and stretched out both hands from his sides, palms facing up.

It was a gesture of surrender, not done decisively, but not hesitated for too long either.

Qin Wu waved his hand.

Two officers from the Zhenwu Division stepped forward and grabbed Li Shaoyuan's arms, one on each side.

The prison van was parked on the side of the official road at the south end of the bridge. The outer wall of the van was covered with a layer of sheet metal, with several old scratches on it.

Li Shaoyuan did not resist when he was put into the prison van, but he glanced back at the body of He Gongfeng on the bridge just as he was getting into the van.

His face was expressionless, but the light in his eyes was like an oil lamp being slowly blown out by the wind.

The news reached Jinyang at dusk the following day.

The fast horse set off from the capital, changing horses three times along the way, galloping westward for nearly seven hours before reaching the outskirts of Jinyang City.

Li Chongxi sat on the grand chair in the main hall, holding the secret letter that had been sent urgently from the capital in his hand.

The letter paper was very thin, and the ink on the back showed the direction of the writing, but his fingers, which were gripping the letter, had turned white, and the skin at his knuckles was taut like a thin layer of wax, with the blue veins underneath clearly visible.

Kneeling below the hall was Li Tieshan, the leader of the Dark Guard Battalion.

Li Tieshan was in his early forties, with a rugged appearance. He had an old scar on his face that ran diagonally from his brow bone to his jaw, a mark left from when he fought for his life in the northern border when he was young.

He knelt on the blue brick floor of the main hall, his knees touching the cold brick surface, but the layer of cold sweat on his forehead was even colder than the brick surface.

He had his head down and his back bent, like a stone tower about to collapse.

Li Chongxi slammed the letter onto the table with a loud "smack," and the letter curled up at one corner before springing back open.

His voice was sharp as a knife, each word seeming to shoot out sparks: "Tell me, what exactly happened in the capital? Why are the assassinations of Su Yuanyi and the killing of the Ministry of Revenue official being pinned on my Li family?"

He stood up, walked around the desk, and went to Li Tieshan.

The toe of the boot almost touched Li Tieshan's knee.

He looked down at the old man who had followed him for twenty years, noticing the cold sweat beading on the old scarred face. His voice lowered slightly, but grew even colder: "Where are the Dark Guards?"

Li Tieshan kowtowed repeatedly.

His forehead slammed against the blue brick with a dull thud. After the first slam, he slammed it a second time. When he raised his head again after the third slam, there was a gash on his forehead, and blood was flowing down the side of his nose.

He didn't wipe it, but spoke in a hoarse voice, each word sounding as if it had been sanded in his throat: "Master, by the time the Dark Guard arrived, it was already over. The moves and footwork used by those who attacked were seven or eight parts similar to those of our Dark Guard, but upon closer inspection, the core techniques had been modified. They learned them very well, but the modifications left flaws."

He swallowed hard, a dry, rolling sound coming from his throat: "I swear on my life, most of the Dark Guards in the capital withdrew three days ago. The few who remained did not participate in the assassination. Someone... someone struck first, and then pinned the blame on the Li family."

Li Chongxi stood before him, motionless.

He listened to Li Tieshan's words, each word as if it had been weighed on a scale before being put into his ears.

Then he turned around, slowly walked back to the armchair, and sat down.

He sat down with the same steady movements as usual, but the veins on his fingers gripping the armrest bulged out one by one, like the roots of an old tree cracking through the soil.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

The main hall remained quiet for a long time.

The twilight outside poured in through the open door, casting a dark red glow on the blue brick floor, like a layer of congealed blood.

A crow landed on the eaves in the distance, cawed twice, and then flew away with a whoosh.

When Li Chongxi opened his eyes again, a rare, extremely cold chill appeared in those eyes that always carried a hint of ruthlessness.

That chill wasn't anger; it was the kind of coldness that comes from being stabbed in the dark, the kind that begins with a cold laugh even before the blood has flowed onto your clothes.

"good."

He enunciated each word with great force, as if grinding a piece of iron between his teeth.

"Well done, what a brilliant scheme to use someone else to do your dirty work."

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window is the courtyard of the ancestral home of the Li family in Jinyang. In the twilight, the branches of the old locust tree in the courtyard look like an outstretched hand.

He gazed towards the capital in the north, his voice strained as if squeezed out from between his teeth, each word sharp and angular: "Using the emperor to kill my Li family, and then thoroughly understanding the Li family's strategies—this move was brilliant, but since it was so brilliant for me, I can't let him make it for nothing."

He turned to look at Li Tieshan.

Li Tieshan was still kneeling there, half of the blood on his forehead had congealed, and it gleamed with a dark brown light in the twilight.

"Investigate," Li Chongxi said. "Investigate for me. Who else in the capital is employing such a group of people who can do this much, who can learn the tactics of the secret guards to a high degree, who can act simultaneously on the night Su Yuanyi and the Ministry of Revenue official were arrested, who can predict how angry the emperor will be, how far Qin Wu will go, and how the Li family will take the blame? This is not something an ordinary person can predict."

Li Tieshan remained kneeling and said in a deep voice, "Your subordinate understands. The secret agents in the capital were activated last night and are investigating the origins of those assassins."

"If they were transferred in from somewhere outside the capital, it's impossible for them to leave no trace."

"But young master..."

He paused when he said the words "young master," and his voice lowered.

Li Chongxi stood by the window, his back to him.

He watched as the shadow of the old locust tree in the courtyard was swallowed up inch by inch by the twilight, and remained silent for a long time.

Then he spoke, his voice not loud, but every word carried a strength that had been suppressed to the extreme and then restored: "If Shaoyuan perishes in the capital, the Li family will surely turn this chessboard upside down and start all over again."

He paused, then turned and glanced back at Li Tieshan.

Dusk crept in from behind him, shrouding him in a state of half-light and half-darkness, making his eyes appear even brighter in the darkness.

"Go, prepare the horses; I'm going to see Chen Jing'an."

He spoke the name of the Chen family head without any hesitation; this decision had been on his mind many times before.

"And Zheng Guan, and Lu Zhaoling, tell them I want to see them tonight."

He strode out of the main hall, his robe billowing in the wind, and never looked back.

The door to the main hall was half-open behind him, and the twilight seeped in, stretching the shadows on the armchair even longer.

Li Tieshan stood up from the ground. His knees had been hitting the blue bricks for too long, and his legs bent slightly when he stood up. He used his hands to brace himself against the door frame to steady himself, and then strode towards the stable.

This game of chess has finally gone from covert struggle to open confrontation.

The person who pushed the Li family out to take the blame must be hiding somewhere in the capital right now, waiting to see how the Jinyang Li family will retaliate.