Ink Burns

Chapter 287 Father (Part 1)
Rewind to the fifth day after the silver ship entered the water, at night.

After autumn, the capital city is like a thunder cave undergoing a heavenly tribulation. The imperial aura accumulated over thousands of years, both underground and above ground, cannot withstand the successive heavenly punishments from the nine heavens.

It was as if the sky had a hole in it, and the rain was pouring down onto the ground.

Shan Yue tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. She reached out to her left, but found it empty and cold, completely devoid of its former warmth.

Shan Yue sighed: "Humans, indeed, are all prone to habit. The pig, who used to dislike meat, kept rooting around for vegetables, which was a bit annoying. But now that the pig is away for a rare day, I feel a bit lonely."

"call out--"

The door was pushed open.

A blast of cold air rushed into the room, and the wind stirred by the man's clothes carried the stench of blood and the saltiness and dampness of the Haihe River.

Shan Yue suddenly stood up: "It's done?"

"It's done."

Xue Xiao's voice was low and hoarse.

Shan Yue wanted to get closer.

Xue Xiao stopped him: "You're so dirty you could rub mud off your clothes—put on some clothes first, and let me wash up."

As he walked into the inner room, a dark brown bloodstain, resembling rotten mud, was left by the hem of his clothes on the blue brick floor.

Xue Xiao paused in his tracks.

The four landscape paintings on silk screens at the front were painted by Shan Yue.

Xue Xiao decisively took off his blood-stained outer garment, rubbed it, and threw it out. After quickly rinsing himself around the screen, his hair still wet with water droplets, he casually threw on an outer robe and came out. Seeing teacups tightly covered on the table, Xue Xiao picked one up and drank it all in one gulp.

The tea was still warm; after drinking it, my throat and even my eight hundred thoughts felt hot.

Xue Xiao cleared his throat, finally feeling the reality of stepping back onto land.

The silver ship sailed north from Qiushui Ferry to the estuary. Ambush on the river would be too risky, so they had to wait at sea. They lay in wait at sea for nearly seven days without being able to reach the shore. Fresh water was scarce. On board were more than two hundred elite soldiers from the Xishan Camp, carefully selected and confirmed to have no powerful backgrounds. They were to wait for the silver ship to appear, then immediately kill the soldiers on board while masked, and then transfer the silver to the cargo ship under cover of night.

Tonight, he even had a brief encounter with Prince Yong, Xu Quliang.

Prince Yong was still plump and always smiling—smiling as he instructed people to carry stacks of eighteen taels of silver onto the cargo ship.

Prince Yong is now living in seclusion, helping Emperor Yongping control the shipping routes for grain and salt. Those on the water call him "Fat Master Liang." The silver passes through his hands, going through salt, iron, and mines, and then flows cleanly into the national treasury, completely fulfilling his mission of clearing Jing'an's name.

Emperor Yongping not only wanted to exploit the people of Jing'an, but also to extract their money.

"The Emperor originally intended to use this opportunity to eliminate the Ministry of War's spies, achieving three goals with one move. However, just before the trip, the Grand Princess Jing'an, for convenience, replaced all the people on the ship with her own men." Xue Xiao straddled the edge of the bed: "In this way, there are no more obstacles in carrying out the operation."

Obstruction?

Why would you use this word?

Shan Yue turned her head and saw Xue Xiao opening his large hand to examine her closely.

The palms are clean, and the palm lines are clear.

But Shan Yue knew he was looking at the bloodstains on his hands, which had already been washed clean.

"Power shifts are always accompanied by bloodshed and intrigue," Xue Xiao said in a low voice. "It has always been so."

Murder is nothing to me.

Just like a master.

They kill evil people, and earn money to support their families.

He had to be a loyal minister and support a wise ruler, so he had to dominate the card table—as long as the domination was worthwhile.

As long as necessary bloodshed can reduce injustices in the world, improve the lives of ordinary people, and ensure fairness and justice in the laws of the state, then it doesn't matter if Xue Qishu becomes a murderous knife, a biting dog, bears the infamy of countless lives lost, and is infamous for his cruelty and debauchery.

Shan Yue gazed clearly and quietly at Xue Xiao. After a long while, she gently rested her head on Xue Xiao's shoulder. Only when bodies are close together can hearts find solace in each other.

******
Let's turn back time to the present.

The messenger was kept alive and taken to the Forbidden City. He tearfully explained that "the silver ship encountered pirates halfway there. They were dressed in black and masked, and they used jeweled curved swords. They looked like demons."

After delivering the message, he was sentenced to death for "failure in carrying out his duties and inadequate defense."

Emperor Yongping sent Wu Min to deliver a message to Jing'an, which was probably some unimportant words of comfort, perhaps mixed with Chan's hatred for the Rakshasa and his determination to pursue them.

Jing'an immediately spat out a mouthful of bright red, foul-smelling blood!

Rakshasa demon!
What kind of demon is this!

That Yongping brat is that ghost!
That ghost who killed her private soldiers, embezzled her money and belongings, plotted against her power, and destroyed half a lifetime's worth of hard work!

How could she not have thought of this ten days ago?!
Did Yuan Wenying, who came to act as an intermediary, already betray us? Or has she just gotten old and become stupid?

Jing'an was so anxious that his hands and feet instantly stiffened like wooden sticks. A dizzying white light flashed across the back of his head, and everything went black before his eyes. He immediately fainted!

"Your Highness!"

"Your Highness!"

"Come here! Come!"

"Summon the imperial physician! Save him!"

The Grand Princess's residence was instantly thrown into chaos.

Amidst the chaos, a figure quietly retreated to the outside of the mansion. Seeing that there was no one in the alley, he quickly walked to a deserted inn, ignoring the waiter's greetings and pleasantries, and went straight inside. He changed into a simple cloth robe, poured cold tea into his hand, and smoothed his hair with his palm.

He glanced at the hanging bronze mirror out of the corner of his eye.

The person in the mirror has neat, jet-black hair.

wrong.

This is incorrect.

He half-squatted down and carefully looked in the bronze mirror, picking out strands of white hair hidden deep within his hair, making them clearly visible hanging between his temples and on the surface.

Looking at the person in the mirror, their temples are gray, there are fine lines at the corners of their eyes, their eyes are peaceful but tired, their clothes are simple and not annoying, and there is no flattery, extravagance or ostentation about them.

He Qingshu nodded in satisfaction.

This face is the result of natural aging over the past fifteen years.

He Qingshu turned and left the inn, heading towards Twelve Alleys in another direction.

The old, enormous locust tree at the entrance of Xue Nan's residence had lost all its leaves due to the onset of winter, leaving its bare branches mottled with patterns and moss.

He Qingshu glanced enviously over the old locust tree: just from this tree, one could tell that this family was learned and had quite a distinguished background.

Knock on the door.

The gatekeeper poked his head out and, seeing a stranger with an air of authority, asked, "Are you a magistrate from the Censorate? Are you here to see our Lord Xue?"

He Qingshu shook his head and presented a yellowed coarse cloth sachet with both hands: "I'm not looking for Commandant Xue, I'm looking for your lady—"

“If you present this item to her, she will naturally understand everything.”

The gatekeeper took the sachet with some skepticism, glancing at it sideways: the cloth was rough and coarse, and the seams were even a bit grayish.

The gatekeeper closed the door and ran through the second gate to announce the news. The sachet was quickly transferred to Shanyue's hand.

“...He’s an old man.” The doorman, who was still a child, was handling the work for Jifeng. He scratched his head and said, “He’s not exactly an old man, but he’s dressed simply and is a bit unkempt, so he looks a bit old. He said that when the lady saw this sachet, she knew everything.”

The doorman's voice trailed off as the lady before him, her eyes bloodshot, clutched tightly to the old, dusty sachet.