A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

Jingzhou, Liu Mansion.

The study was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood. Liu Ruhui held a cup of freshly brewed Junshan Yinzhen tea, his posture composed, as if he were waiting for an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time.

The tea was clear and steaming, reflecting on his calm and composed face.

He heard the commotion outside the mansion, the terrified screams of the servants, and the resounding clang of armor clashing like a torrent of steel.

But he didn't move.

He simply brought the teacup to his lips, gently blew away the floating leaves, and slowly took a sip.

The tea is excellent. It's a pity this is the last cup.

"boom!"

With a loud crash, the heavy door to the study, made from a single piece of nanmu wood, was slammed open from the outside.

Amidst the flying sawdust, more than ten Imperial Guards, clad in black armor and wielding standard-issue longswords, rushed in like wolves, their blades menacing, instantly sealing off all his escape routes.

The captain in charge stared at him coldly, his face ashen and his eyes sharp as lightning.

Liu Ruhui seemed oblivious to the knives pressed against his neck; he didn't even stand up from the armchair.

He simply placed the teacup back on the table, the bottom of the cup making a crisp sound as it struck the surface.

In this deathly still and desolate atmosphere, the crisp sound seemed particularly jarring.

He raised his eyes, his gaze passing over the menacing guards, and looked toward the doorway, his voice calm and undisturbed.

"Liu Suan's side has also suffered a defeat, hasn't it?"

No one answered him.

But this question doesn't need an answer.

If Liu Suan hadn't been defeated, and if the fire in the northern border had truly broken out, the soldiers who rushed into his study at this moment would have been the disorganized troops under Wang Meng, the garrison commander of Jingzhou, not this group of elite troops from the capital who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere with eyes like knives.

He lost his bet.

We lost completely.

He wasn't too panicked; instead, he felt a sense of weariness that had finally settled down.

From the moment he decided to embark on this path, he knew this day would come. He just didn't expect it to arrive so quickly and so decisively.

The crowd parted to the sides, and a figure in pure white slowly walked in.

Huo Qingluan.

She was still dressed in white, without armor, her cool face expressionless. Her presence seemed to lower the temperature in the entire study even further.

She walked to Liu Ruhui's desk and looked calmly at this former minister of the dynasty, whose hair and beard were all white, yet who still maintained his last shred of dignity in the face of defeat.

"You lost." Huo Qingluan's voice, like her personality, was cold and devoid of warmth.

Liu Ruhui smiled, a hint of self-deprecation in his smile: "Yes, we lost."

He looked at Huo Qingluan with a hint of inquiry in his eyes:

"I am very curious, how did Wei Zhao manage to allocate troops to lay this inescapable trap in Jingzhou when the imperial examinations were underway and the court was unstable?"

This is what he can't understand the most.

Wei Zhao's every step seemed to be calculated in advance.

This feeling is not like playing chess with a person, but more like playing chess with a god who can see through the secrets of heaven, where every move is clearly seen.

Huo Qingluan did not answer him directly.

She took out a letter from her sleeve. It wasn't a secret letter, just an ordinary piece of paper with a few lines of strong, vigorous handwriting.

She placed the letter in front of Liu Ruhui.

"Liu Suan was brought back to the capital from the snowy plains of the north by Prince Kao Shan half a month ago."

Liu Ruhui's pupils suddenly contracted, and the color drained from his face instantly.

He stared intently at the letter. Although he couldn't see the contents clearly, the words "King Kao Shan" and "Capital" felt like a red-hot iron, searing his heart.

Liu Suan...was arrested?

About two weeks ago?

So all the secret reports he received from the people he sent to the North, about the North about to rise up in response, were false?

In an instant, all the doubts were answered.

Why did Liu Suan suddenly disappear without a trace?

Why did Wei Zhao dare to set up an ambush in Jingzhou at such a crucial moment in the imperial examination?

It turns out that from the very beginning, Liu Ruhui was just a pawn placed in the open.

His self-righteous policy of simultaneously developing the north and south, and his painstakingly planned rebellion in Jingzhou, were nothing more than a farce with a predetermined ending in Wei Zhao's eyes.

The "grassland echo" he was waiting for will never come.

"puff--"

Liu Ruhui could no longer suppress the surging blood in his chest, and spat out a mouthful of blood, staining the desk in front of him and the cup of Junshan Silver Needle tea that had already gone cold.

His body swayed, as if all his energy had been drained in an instant, and he slumped down completely.

He slowly closed his eyes, his face ashen, and after a long while, he managed to squeeze out a few words.

"Well... well, Wei Zhao."

He opened his eyes and looked at Huo Qingluan with an extremely complex expression. There was resentment and unwillingness, but more than anything, there was a sense of complete and utter admiration for her defeat.

"What a fine... white-clad figure."

Whether it was the white-robed emperor sitting on the dragon throne, the white-clad female general in front of him, or the white-robed national advisor whom he had never taken seriously but who was weaving a net of heaven and earth behind his back.

What he lost to was this brand-new era of white-clad figures that disregarded all old rules.

Dark as ink.

A simple prison cart, escorted by two squads of cavalry, slowly drove out of Jingzhou City.

Liu Ruhui was dressed in prison clothes, with heavy shackles on his hands and feet.

He leaned against the wooden bars of the prison cart, neither struggling nor cursing, but simply looking up quietly at the cold, waning moon in the sky.

The prison van drove through streets he once knew so well. Every bluestone slab and every flying eave and bracket was a testament to the power of his Liu family.

Three generations of management, a century-old prominent family, but in his generation, it all vanished into thin air.

He suddenly chuckled softly, his voice hoarse and filled with endless desolation.

"Hehe...hehehe..."

One of the captains escorting them frowned and said coldly, "You're about to die, and you can still laugh?"

Liu Ruhui ignored him, and just murmured to himself, as if he were talking to the night wind, or as if he were talking to himself.

"If the late emperor had listened to my advice back then and eliminated Lu Song and his eunuch faction sooner, how could that beast have colluded with foreign tribes, embezzled military pay, and ruined the once mighty Wei Dynasty into such a state..."

His voice was filled with endless regret and resentment.

"When Lu Song usurped the throne, I resigned from my post and went into seclusion. Everyone said that I, Liu Ruhui, was greedy for life and afraid of death. But little did they know that I simply did not want to give my head away as a congratulatory gift for such a person's ascension to the throne..."

"Now, dynasties have changed. In order to preserve the roots of this century-old family and to leave an old path for scholars all over the world, I raised an army to oppose the new policies... but instead became a criminal of treason."

He raised his head and looked at the captain, a glimmer of clarity appearing in his cloudy eyes.

"Don't you think this world is quite interesting?"

"In this world, it's all about the victor taking all."

The captain felt a little uneasy under his gaze, turned his head away, and did not reply.

He was just a warrior; he couldn't understand the profound thoughts and musings of these scholars and poets before their deaths.

All he knew was that the saying "the victor is king, the loser is villain" was true.

The prison cart creaked and groaned as it finally arrived at the towering gates of Jingzhou.

Further ahead lies the long road to the capital, a road that is also a road to the underworld.

As Liu Ruhui gazed at the familiar outline of the city gate, the last ripples in his heart subsided. He knew that he would never return in this lifetime.

Just as the prison cart was about to pass through the city gate, he suddenly spoke up and called out to the captain.

"Captain"

The captain reined in his horse and turned back to look at him impatiently: "What else is there?"

"Please convey a message to that white-robed imperial advisor for me." Liu Ruhui's voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear.

The captain frowned but did not respond.

Liu Ruhui didn't care. He looked in the direction of the capital, and the last bit of dejection in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a kind of last and most stubborn pride that belonged to scholars.

"If she's really capable, let me see if her new policies, cobbled together from military achievements and mathematics, can outlast my half-finished 'Policy for All People'."

This is neither a plea for mercy nor a threat.

This is a final challenge from a failed leader of the old era to a rising designer of the new era.

He may die, his family may perish, but the ideals he upheld throughout his life cannot be buried silently.

The captain stared at him silently for a long time without answering.

He simply lashed out with his whip, urging the horse on.

"drive!"

The prison cart sped forward, carrying those words and Liu Ruhui into the deep night, heading towards the capital city that determined the life and death of everyone in the world.