If you die, I will be able to inherit your cultivation.

When Zhu Zi was taken into the dungeon, it was already broad daylight.

The dungeon of the Marquis's mansion was located in the deepest part of the west courtyard.

As the pillar was dragged down the stone steps by two guards, his ankles slammed against the edge of the steps several times, but he didn't utter a sound.

The dungeon was damp and cold, with water droplets seeping from the walls. The torches were stuck in the iron hoops on the walls, and the flickering firelight reflected off the pillars.

There were no more tears on his dark, thin face; only a numb emptiness remained.

The head butler's surname was Meng. He was a tall, thin man in his fifties with graying temples and deep-set eyes, but his eyes were brighter than someone his age would expect.

He served as the head steward of the Marquis's mansion for twenty years, a position he held since the Marquis separated from the Duke's mansion.

I've seen all kinds of troublemakers, and I've pried open all kinds of mouths.

He moved a chair and sat opposite the pillar. He wasn't in a hurry to ask questions. First, he had someone untie the pillar, and then he had someone bring a bowl of hot tea and place it at the pillar's feet.

"Zhu Zi," Butler Meng's voice was not loud, even carrying a hint of elder-like kindness.

"Tell me, who taught you that punch?"

Zhu Zi sat on the ground, head down, his hands gripping the trousers above his knees tightly, as if those two pieces of cloth were his last lifeline.

He didn't utter a sound.

Butler Meng was not annoyed.

He shifted his posture, crossed his legs, and continued speaking slowly:

"I know even if you don't say it. You've always been honest since you were little, you can't even argue, let alone hit someone."

"Your punch went straight through Manager Zhang's stomach; that's not the kind of force an ordinary punch can produce."

Zhu Zi remained silent, his head bowed even lower.

Butler Meng didn't press him and started talking about other things.

They said that Zhu Zi had been at the Marquis's residence for many years, and that the horses at the horse farm were well-maintained.

The young lady was fairly satisfied with his job.

They talked about trivial things, jumping from one topic to another, like they were having a casual chat.

But even during this casual conversation, his gaze never left Zhu Zi's face.

Whenever Zhu Zi pursed his lips, clenched his fist, or his eyelids twitched, Butler Meng's lips would twitch in response.

Then he would push an oil lamp next to him toward the pillar to make the light shine more clearly.

He was looking at the pillar's eyebrows and eyes, looking at them very carefully, as if he were looking at an open ledger.

Then he started mentioning square and round.

He said the people at the horse farm said that you've been getting very close to Fang Yuan lately.

They also said that someone saw you staying up late at night, squatting behind the mule and horse shed, muttering something to each other.

At this point, Zhu Zi's fingers, which were gripping his pants, visibly stiffened.

Butler Meng saw this but didn't ask any further questions; he simply nodded, as if he had already gotten the answer he wanted.

He stood up, brushed off non-existent dust from his robes, and gave instructions to the guards behind him:

"Go to the horse farm and bring Fangyuan with you."

Then he turned to the pillar and said:

"If you tell the truth, I can plead for you with Madam. If you don't, once Fang Yuan arrives and tells the truth, you'll have nothing left."

Zhu Zi's lips moved slightly.

Butler Meng stopped and didn't urge him, but waited quietly.

After a long while, Zhuzi raised his head, and a glimmer of light finally appeared in his eyes.

It wasn't a ray of hope, but a resolute determination born from having given up everything.

He asked in a hoarse voice, "Manager Zhang... he's really dead?"

"He's dead."

Zhu stared blankly at the ground, his lips trembling several times, before he began to speak.

He said that night Fang Yuan pulled him to the back of the mule shed and mysteriously took out a book from his pocket with the words "The Book of Crossing the World" written on the cover.

He said that Fang Yuan told him to repeat it a hundred times so that he would become stronger and would never be bullied again.

He might not trust others, but he trusted Fang Yuan, who had been beaten up because of him more than once.

He followed along and recited it for several nights. When he recited it a hundred times, his dantian felt warm.

"Where is that book?" Butler Meng's voice was still as flat as ever, but his speech was a fraction faster.

Fang Yuan took it; he said he found it and didn't know who threw it away.

Butler Meng did not ask any further questions.

He turned around, walked up the stone steps, and instructed the steward beside him, "Go and inform the lady."

When the guards arrived at the horse farm, Fang Yuan's dormitory was already empty.

His bedding roll was still there, and a few tattered clothes were piled on his pillow, but he was gone.

The other third-class servants living with him said that Fang Yuan got up before dawn, saying he went to the storeroom to collect materials.

Several guards rushed to the storeroom, but the people there said they had never seen Fang Yuan.

The guards turned the horse ransacked upside down, even searching through the haystacks in the stables.

After searching the mansion for most of the next hour, they finally confirmed that Fang Yuan was no longer there.

Not only Fang Yuan, but also three third-class servants disappeared at the same time.

One of them was A-Gui from the woodshed. He was short and usually quiet, and no one had seen him this morning.

There were also two servants responsible for cleaning the inner courtyard passageway, one named Gousheng and the other named Shitou.

As if by prior arrangement, the four people vanished from the Marquis's residence without a trace.

Steward Meng stood on the open ground of the horse farm, his face ashen.

He overlooked one crucial step.

When Steward Zhang died in the alley, the news spread so fast that Fang Yuan heard about it and ran away.

Those who were chanting sutras with Fang Yuan were so frightened by the news that Steward Zhang had been beaten to death that they also ran away.

Four escaped, but the rest were all taken into custody by the guards.

The other people in Fang Yuan's room who didn't run away, along with several grooms who were usually close to him, were all taken to the dungeon.

Su Mingyue's mother, Lady Zhao, the wife of the Marquis of Yongning, was a woman in her early forties.

She bears a resemblance to Su Mingyue, both possessing a natural and aloof charm, but she exudes a more dignified grace that comes with age than Su Mingyue.

She sat in the armchair in the main hall, holding a cup of tea. After listening to Steward Meng's report, she did not speak immediately.

The steam rising from the teacup blurred her expression.

"You punched right through the stomach?" she finally asked, her voice as calm as if she were asking what the kitchen had cooked that day.

"Yes. The doctor has examined the injury; that force is not something an ordinary person could exert."

"His cultivation level should be around the peak of the Skin Refining Realm."

Zhao placed the teacup on the table, the porcelain bottom making a crisp sound as it hit the mahogany surface. "Where's the scripture?"

"The investigation is ongoing. All the servants who didn't run away have been brought back."

"It has already been reviewed. The book is titled 'The Scripture of Crossing the World,' and it has about three thousand words. Fang Yuan personally told Zhu Zi, 'Read a book a hundred times and your divine skills will appear.' These words all match up."

The old servant plans to have them recite it separately, and then verify its authenticity after each person has recited it.

"No need to wait any longer." Zhao's voice remained calm, but Steward Meng, who had followed her for thirty years, could sense the weight beneath that calmness.

"After the document is reviewed, make two copies. Lock one copy in the treasury, and send the other by hawk to the frontier, to be delivered to the Marquis, awaiting his instructions."

She paused for a moment, then said, "If this scripture can truly enable an ordinary person to cultivate to the Skin Refining Realm within a few days, then it's not just a cultivation technique. It's something that can defy fate and change one's destiny."

"Send more men to pursue those four people; we must find them alive or dead."

Steward Meng had served the lady for many years and knew what was important without her having to say much.

A scripture that can enable ordinary people to cross the threshold of martial arts in just a few days is underestimated if it is only regarded as a technique.

It can be printed, copied, and disseminated; a single scripture is like an ever-flowing army of warriors.

Whichever aristocratic family seizes this opportunity first will gain an unstoppable force on the chessboard of the entire Great Xia Dynasty.

So the lady said that two copies should be made.

A document locked in the manor's treasury became part of the Yongning Marquis's estate.

A message was delivered by eagle to the frontier and handed to the Marquis.

The soldiers on the front lines are risking their lives, and what they lack most is individual strength, overall strength, and the ability to survive and leave the battlefield.

If this scripture could be secretly distributed within the army, its significance would be immeasurable.

Of course, it also depends on whether the Marquis cherishes his own possessions or is willing to benefit the army and his soldiers.

As for those few who slipped through the net, given the power of the Marquis's mansion, they certainly won't escape.