The shrill cry of "Kill without mercy!" crashed through the night like ice water thrown into boiling oil. Panic exploded at the gates of the Ling residence.
Old Zhong shoved Ling Yuan inside with surprising force. He staggered, the fine wine from moments ago instantly turning into a cold sweat.
"Close the gates! Quickly!" Zhong roared. His frail, hunched body suddenly burst with strength as he slammed one of the heavy red doors shut.
The doorkeepers fumbled at the other door, but it was too late.
Bang!
An iron bolt slammed into the crack, splinters flying. In the next instant, a wave of black boots thundered forward, soldiers kicking the doors wide open. The proud crimson gates of the Ling family burst apart with a deafening crash.
Flames poured in like a tide.
This was no longer the warm glow of banquet lanterns, but the merciless glare of torches and the cold gleam of steel.
The Imperial Guards had arrived.
An ocean of iron surged into the courtyard—armored men moving with terrifying precision. The clamor of swords unsheathing drowned out the music that had filled the air just moments earlier.
Screams broke out. Women shrieked, servants cried, and guests tried to flee, only to be cut down or beaten back by blades and harsh shouts. In a heartbeat, the banquet became a slaughterhouse.
Ling Yuan's mind went blank. His father's warning thundered in his ears—"An abyss of a thousand fathoms!" He watched in horror as a musician trying to escape was struck down, blood pouring across the tiles.
"Master! This way!" Old Zhong's voice cut through the chaos like a lifeline. He seized Ling Yuan's wrist with a grip like iron and dragged him into a side corridor, moving with the speed of someone who knew every hidden path.
"To the study! Find the master!" Zhong gasped as they ran. "He'll know what to do!"
Ling Yuan stumbled after him, his silken robes dragging through dirt and blood. Behind them, the clash of steel and cries of the dying echoed closer and closer.
They passed through a moon gate—only to find the inner courtyard no safer. Guardsmen of the Ling family fought desperately with staves and bare hands, but they were no match for the Emperor's soldiers. The white magnolia grove was soon stained crimson.
"There! The Ling brat!" a captain shouted.
A squad of armored soldiers charged toward them.
"Go!" Zhong suddenly shoved Ling Yuan toward a narrow passage, then spun around, pulling a gardener's short blade from his belt.
"Zhong!" Ling Yuan cried.
"Find your father!" Zhong roared back. His aged frame lunged forward, clashing with steel. The sound of metal against metal rang out as he fought with nothing but sheer will. He was no warrior—but his defiance bought precious seconds.
Tears stung Ling Yuan's eyes, but he forced himself to run. He would not waste their sacrifice.
The study! Father must be there!
He sprinted past the rock garden, kicked open a side door, and reached the secluded courtyard of the study.
It was strangely quiet.
The study doors were wide open, guards already posted. In the center of the courtyard, his father—Ling Hao—stood tall in his purple robe, waiting as if he had expected this moment all along.
Facing him was a pale eunuch, the one who had read the edict. His smile was cruel."Grand Tutor Ling—no, traitor Ling Hao. His Majesty is merciful enough to let you wait here for judgment. Be wise and save yourself some pain."
Ling Hao did not answer. He only looked up at the red-tinged sky, murmuring, "So… even in this golden age, there is no place for words of loyalty?"
Then he turned.
His eyes locked on Ling Yuan, who had just stumbled in.
Pain flashed in them, followed by urgent severity. His lips moved soundlessly: Go!
The eunuch saw him too. His eyes narrowed with delight."Seize the boy! Bring me the Ling heir!"
Soldiers rushed forward.
In that instant, Ling Hao moved.
All traces of scholar's grace vanished. He lunged like a tiger, slamming into the eunuch with his full weight. Chaos erupted.
"Yuan'er! Live!"
His voice ripped through the night. Something small and hard flew from his sleeve—straight into Ling Yuan's chest.
The jade pendant. The one carved with the single character: Ling.
"Father!" Ling Yuan screamed as two soldiers seized him, their grip crushing his arms.
"Take them all! To the dungeons!" the eunuch shrieked, scrambling to his feet.
Ling Yuan twisted violently, just in time to see his father held down by soldiers, still standing tall, eyes burning with a desperate command:
Live.
Dragged away, Ling Yuan's heart tore apart.
And then—
From the shadows, a blood-soaked figure burst forth.
It was Zhong. His left arm hung useless, his body riddled with wounds, but his eyes still blazed. He swung a stolen club with the ferocity of a mad beast."Let him go!"
The soldiers staggered as he struck, and Zhong shoved Ling Yuan toward a hidden corner of the courtyard.
There, beneath dead vines and fallen leaves, lay a low drainage tunnel—so small and filthy it was almost invisible.
"Go! Through there! South to the Yongji Canal!" Zhong rasped, blood spilling from his lips. "Live… for the Ling family—"
The words cut off as a blade pierced his back.
Zhong's body jolted, blood spraying, but his last strength shoved Ling Yuan toward the tunnel before his eyes went dim forever.
"Zhong!" Ling Yuan's cry was raw, but soldiers were closing in fast.
No time.
His father's command. Zhong's sacrifice. They burned in his soul like brands.
Live.
Ling Yuan ripped away the vines and forced himself into the narrow, foul-smelling tunnel. His fine robes tore, scraping against stone as soldiers' blades clanged at the opening behind him.
In the pitch dark, with only the cold stench of earth and blood, he crawled forward—into deeper, endless night.