Zhou Zhilán stood quietly behind a crimson-painted pillar. In the distance, the Patriarch's courtyard had descended into chaos, countless flickering lights cutting through the night, painting half the sky red.
"Miss!" a maid hurried over, lifting her skirt, "the Patriarch's side is already in complete disarray!"
"The timing couldn't be better," Zhou Zhilán murmured, nodding slightly, her gaze still locked on the scene far away.
The news of the Patriarch's sudden death hit the Zhou family like a massive boulder, stirring this stagnant pond into violent turmoil. Her Seventh Uncle must be panicking right now. Years of meticulous plotting had been foiled, and if he didn't act immediately, the moment Xu Changming noticed any irregularities, his life would be forfeit.
And in the middle of this chaos… it was the perfect time to fish in troubled waters.
Zhou Zhilán's eyes flickered. She turned to the maid and whispered, "Go tell Father…" She paused for a moment, then pulled a jade token from her waist and pressed it into the maid's hand. "Say the fish is in the net, the line can be reeled in."
The maid gripped the token and was about to leave, but Zhou Zhilán suddenly caught her wrist. "Remember, take the western path. Along the way, the guards…"
She traced a light symbol across the maid's palm, leaving a faint golden sigil. "Anyone who sees this will let you pass."
Once the maid disappeared down the corridor, Zhou Zhilán lifted her gaze, the distant flames reflecting in her eyes.
"Please… don't disappoint me," she whispered.
And Zhou Moxuan certainly didn't disappoint.
Amid the chaos triggered by the Patriarch's sudden death, even this usually sharp man showed signs of panic. His face was ashen as he barked orders to his subordinates, "Hurry! Search the Patriarch's study and secret rooms! Nothing suspicious can be left behind!"
"But Seventh Master…" a subordinate hesitated, "Steward Xu has already arrived with disciples from the Hehuan Sect…"
"Useless!" Zhou Moxuan slammed his palm on a stone table, shattering it. "Why do I even keep you around?! Get moving!"
But then—
"Seventh Master!" a disciple came stumbling in, holding a blue-and-white porcelain bottle. "We found this in the Patriarch's study!"
Zhou Moxuan snatched the bottle, and the moment he lifted the lid, his pupils constricted sharply.
The remaining blue powder inside shimmered oddly under the moonlight—it was the very drug ingredient he had personally handed to his subordinate to secretly harm the Patriarch!
"This… can't be!" His voice was hoarse, fingers trembling involuntarily. "I… I clearly…" He swallowed the words, then barked sharply, "Who found it?!"
"It… it was Steward Zhou from the Apothecary who discovered it…"
—Zhou Hanqing?!
Zhou Moxuan felt as if he'd been struck by lightning, frozen in place. Suddenly realizing something, he bolted toward his courtyard, using his body technique to speed up, robes flapping wildly in the night wind.
But it was too late.
Xu Changming arrived swiftly with a team of elite Hehuan Sect disciples, heading straight for Zhou Moxuan's courtyard—the clue provided by Zhou Zhilán made his target crystal clear.
"There's evil qi!" Xu Changming suddenly stopped. The jade pendant at his waist moved on its own. "Right ahead!"
"Steward Xu, wait!" The Zhou family's Third Elder rushed to block him. "This is—"
"Move!" Xu Changming swept the Third Elder aside with a wave of his sleeve, then slammed a palm into the courtyard gate. With a deafening explosion, the iron-clad gate shattered into pieces!
By the time Zhou Moxuan gasped his way back, he witnessed a horrifying scene.
Xu Changming stood there, holding a Soul-Devouring Nail emitting black qi, his face dark as ink. At his feet lay shattered bluestone slabs, revealing a hidden chamber beneath. Even worse, within the secret compartment were jade slips recording forbidden evil cultivator techniques, one still pulsing with lingering spiritual energy—recently used.
"Zhou Moxuan!" Xu Changming roared, a twisted laugh in his fury, "hoarding Soul-Devouring Nails, practicing forbidden arts, plotting to murder the Patriarch—" He smashed a jade slip into Zhou Moxuan's face. "Do you think the Hehuan Sect is just for show?!"
The jade slip cut through the air, glowing red, and slammed into Zhou Moxuan's forehead with a thud. Blood immediately streamed down his face.
Zhou Moxuan went pale, staggering back two steps, hitting the courtyard wall. His lips trembled violently, his bloodshot eyes scanning the crowd—
Several elders gaped, some in shock, some in fury;
In the distance, Zhou Hanqing arrived with disciples from the Apothecary, faces a perfect mix of shock and grief.
"Zhou Moxuan colluded with evil cultivators, the evidence is clear!" Xu Changming shouted. "Seize him!"
Eight elite Hehuan Sect disciples moved, the chains in their hands clinking, glowing with deadly cold under the moonlight.
"Framing me!" Zhou Moxuan roared, spiritual energy bursting from him. He formed hand seals, a crimson light shooting from his palms, sending the first two disciples flying backward, spitting blood.
"How dare you!" Xu Changming's eyes blazed. He lifted his hand, condensing the spiritual energy around him into a golden giant palm, smashing down with crushing force.
Boom!
The deafening explosion shook the courtyard. Zhou Moxuan dropped to one knee, blood trickling from his mouth, yet he stubbornly lifted his head. "Xu Changming! You're trying to force a confession?!"
"Force a confession?" Xu Changming sneered, flipping his hand to pull out a ledger and a blue-and-white porcelain bottle from his storage ring. "Then look at this."
He tossed both evidence items onto Zhou Moxuan's face.
Zhou Moxuan caught them, fingers trembling violently. When he read the contents of the ledger, his pupils contracted sharply.
"I… I did prepare the drug ingredients…" he croaked, eyes wild with hatred, "but I hadn't acted yet! The Patriarch's death… has nothing to do with me!"
The Patriarch was dead, and Zhou Moxuan was now just one step away from taking control of the Zhou family. His eyes burned red, nails digging deep into his palms, blood dripping through his fingers. After decades of meticulous plotting, could it all be ruined here?
"Oh?" Xu Changming stepped closer. "Then tell me—
Who had motive to kill the Patriarch and frame you?"
Zhou Moxuan's throat moved, scanning everyone present.
"I…" He opened his mouth but no words came, as if poisoned.
"Accuse Zhou Hanqing? That worthless wretch who couldn't even speak loudly? Point at Zhou Zhilán? A mere young girl with golden hair? Impossible."
Cold sweat slid down his spine. He realized a terrifying truth: he couldn't identify a single reasonable suspect. For years, he had calculated every move of every person, yet never imagined he'd be trapped like this.
"Nothing to say?" Xu Changming looked down at the slumped Zhou Moxuan, eyes full of scorn.
He gestured casually to his disciples, as if handling a trivial object, "First, strip his cultivation. Once the Zhou family situation is settled, take him back to the sect's prison hall."
"No—!"
Seeing no room to maneuver, Zhou Moxuan suddenly surged, forming hand seals. A blinding golden light erupted from his dantian—he planned to self-destruct his Golden Core!
But—
Clang!
The locking chains tightened like venomous snakes, inscriptions lighting up one by one. Golden threads drilled into his meridians, violently suppressing his spiritual energy. His Golden Core was nailed in place, unable to respond.
"Xu Changming!" he screamed, hatred cutting through his voice, "I'll drag you down with me even as a ghost!"
Xu Changming didn't even glance back, waving his hand coldly. "Zhou Moxuan, the Hehuan Sect's prison hall has 3,600 punishments…"
He turned, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. "You'll spill everything you know obediently."
From a distant pavilion, Zhou Zhilán watched silently.
Zhou Moxuan's twisted, struggling form writhed in the chains in the firelight, his screams echoing faintly. Zhou Zhilán's lips curved as she lifted a teacup to her mouth, sipping lightly, letting the swirling steam blur the coldness in her eyes.
"Seventh Uncle, oh Seventh Uncle…" she murmured to the moonlight, as if toasting the Patriarch now gone to the afterlife, or perhaps the Zhou Moxuan soon to be utterly ruined.
"This cup of 'Severed Head Tea'… does it please you?" The night wind carried her unspoken whisper far and wide: "When you poisoned my mother's tea back then… did you ever imagine this day?"