Chapter 105: This corrupt official must be filthy rich!

Shhh shhh shhh~

The river wind rustled, brushing through the bamboo grove along the riverbank.

Gong Sun Duan crouched beneath the bamboo leaves, knife and shield in hand, carefully scanning the riverbank for any movement, waiting for prey that might appear at any moment.

Because they didn’t know whether Xie Jinhuan would enter the trap or when he would, this stakeout was excruciatingly dull.

After scanning for a long while and seeing no activity along the river, Gong Sun Duan noticed instead that Zhou Ming’an, who had last entered the house two quarters of an hour ago, had not shown his face again.

As time passed, Gong Sun Duan couldn’t shake a growing sense of dread; after a brief pause, he quietly rose and approached the wall, leaping slightly to peer over.

What he saw was the study lit by lantern light, the door open—and from atop the wall, all he could make out were two legs hanging in the center of the room…

“Hss?!”

Gong Sun Duan’s face turned ashen; he rushed into the room and found Zhou Ming’an hanging alone from the beam, tongue protruding, long dead, with a final note still on the desk.

The other four elite ambushers arrived outside the study and stared, stunned:

“What happened?”

“Didn’t anyone come by? How did Zhou Daoren die?”

“Judging by the scene, it looks like suicide out of guilt…”

“Bullshit! How could he possibly kill himself?!”

Gong Sun Duan had spoken with Zhou Ming’an just moments ago—he refused to believe such a high-ranking corrupt official could vanish without a trace, yet they’d been stationed right outside the house and hadn’t seen anyone approach.

Their mission was to lure and kill Xie Jinhuan, and now the bait had been snatched right under their noses—they’d have no way to explain this to their superiors.

Gong Sun Duan could only search the house for any trace of evidence.

But after the accompanying Imperial Guards examined everything, they all agreed Zhou Ming’an had clearly hanged himself; one finally said:

“Whether Zhou Ming’an killed himself or not, he’s dead. Maybe we should fabricate some evidence…”

Gong Sun Duan glared: “Catch thieves red-handed! Do you even know where Xie Jinhuan is? If he’s currently being summoned by His Majesty or the State Preceptor, and you forge evidence accusing him of murder, then the crime becomes ours!”

“Uh… you’re right, my lord.”

“Go notify Li Gong…”

—

Meanwhile, inside the city.

Large red lanterns hung outside the Li residence; two sword-wielding guards stood on either side of the steps, watching passing carriages and sedan chairs, while patrols circled the perimeter.

Xie Jinhuan sat in a corner tavern, before him a spread of specialties: boiled chicken, sliced raw fish, camel’s hoof stew, and a flask of Xinghua Chun wine from Jiangzhou, savoring his late-night feast alone.

After killing Zhou Ming’an, Xie Jinhuan avoided overdoing it—he ignored the five ambushers and returned straight to the city, heading for his next target: Li Gongpu.

Having lived in the capital for years, he knew “Eunuch Li” well: a collateral branch of the Hualin Li clan, he passed the imperial examination in Jian’an Year Four, initially serving as a proofreader in the Chongwen Pavilion; after the Jian’an Incident, he seized his chance, won the trust of Emperor Gan, and rose meteorically.

As for how Li Gongpu gained favor, a rumor had long circulated in the capital: when the Emperor licked his lips, Li Gongpu already knew what he craved—and had it prepared and waiting outside the door.

The rumor was exaggerated, but Li Gongpu was exceptionally skilled at reading the Emperor’s mind; he’d mastered the art of sycophancy beyond all others—without being told, he’d quietly handle every task, then willingly take the blame, endure scolding, even beatings, without complaint.

The palace’s Yun Tai terrace, its gardens, the Emperor’s favorite paintings, calligraphy, and steeds—all were arranged by Li Gongpu, without draining much from the imperial treasury.

Because he sought to let the Emperor enjoy everything while leaving not a single stain on his name, Emperor Gan often scolded: “Li Gongpu, you’ve truly made my life miserable,” yet never punished him severely—even promoting him to Second Rank.

Such a well-behaved lapdog—anyone else would hesitate to kill him unless absolutely necessary.

Li Gongpu was greedy, but he knew exactly where his power came from; he never touched the Emperor’s sacred limits, leaving even court ministers powerless against him.

For instance, smuggling Immortal Powder and burying gamblers alive—if pursued, it would merely require sacrificing a nephew in the name of righteousness.

And to set a trap to kill him, you’d first have to sacrifice Zhou Ming’an as bait; if he didn’t kill Zhou Ming’an, Li Gongpu wouldn’t dare kill him and risk giving others grounds to accuse him.

Even if this escalated to court, Li Gongpu couldn’t be touched—what could they even accuse him of?

Xie Jinhuan tried to assassinate a government official—why didn’t you send enough guards to stop him?

But if he resorted to underhanded tactics, secretly killing Li Gongpu, the nature of the crime would change entirely.

Han Jingchuan and Zhou Ming’an had just died; if Li Gongpu suddenly dropped dead too, even if he erased every trace, the word “murderer” would be branded on his forehead.

Even if the court strictly followed the law and presumed innocence, killing the Emperor’s beloved dog behind his back and provoking suspicion—could Xie Jinhuan possibly survive in the Great Qian?

So Li Gongpu must not be assassinated secretly—he must be defeated with his own methods!

Li Gongpu set a trap for him; he would set one right back—and kill with his mind!

Ye Hongshang, as a ghost, couldn’t join him for dinner, but now sat across the table, swaying a tiny wine cup in her hands:

“What are you thinking? Up to your usual tricks again?”

Xie Jinhuan picked up a slice of raw fish and dipped it in wine: “Don’t call it tricks—I’m figuring out how to purge corrupt officials and cleanse the court. Li Gongpu is special: he commits small sins constantly but never crosses the Emperor’s line, and he’s deeply favored. We must first win over the Emperor, or any attempt to kill him will bring endless trouble.”

“What if we plant a straw man with the Emperor’s name on it, and stir up witchcraft?”

Xie Jinhuan considered it briefly—this method would get every member of the Witch Alliance’s Beijing office killed, and Li Gongpu had no motive; with high-level adepts from all sects stationed in the capital, planting a straw man alone wouldn’t work unless they actually cursed the Emperor.

“We need to first gather intelligence on Li Gongpu and the Emperor—only then can we find an opening. Wait until tomorrow, when Princess Changning arrives, and we’ll learn the general situation.”

As he spoke, Xie Jinhuan devoured his meal, eager to finish quickly and return to train with Eyeglasses.

But before he finished his flask, the Li residence gates suddenly opened; a group emerged, led by a thin old man accompanied by a guard, chatting as they walked.

From his vantage point, Xie Jinhuan confirmed the old man was none other than Huangmen Lang Li Gongpu; he leaned slightly back behind the window, eating and drinking calmly, observing in silence.

Gulu lu la…

Soon, Li Gongpu, surrounded by attendants, boarded a carriage and headed toward the outer city. Xie Jinhuan, using his third-rank supernatural perception, faintly heard angry shouts from inside the carriage as it passed the tavern:

“It’s definitely Xie Jinhuan who killed him. That useless fool Gong Sun Duan couldn’t catch even a single clue while sitting right outside?”

“My lord, calm down. Gong Sun Duan personally inspected the scene—he found no irregularities. Zhou Ming’an clearly took his own life…”

Nonsense. If he can't tell, send for the Imperial Astronomical Bureau or the Crimson Lin Guard!

“My lord, forgive me, but if Xie Jinhuan can kill Zhou Ming’an without a trace, what’s to stop him from targeting you?”

“Let him come. I don’t believe in such superstitions…”

…

The carriage passed the tavern; the voices faded beyond hearing.

Xie Jinhuan lifted his cup and drained it, his eyes darkening with irritation:

“This old bastard says I won’t dare touch him. If he doesn’t believe in ghosts tonight, he won’t sleep a wink.”

Ye Hongshang cupped her cheeks, thinking for a moment:

“What if we cut off a horse’s head and leave it on his bed, to scare him?”

“That won’t work.”

Xie Jinhuan wasn’t incapable of such a thing—he just felt sorry for the innocent horse. After a brief pause, his gaze turned to the now-closed Li residence:

“Li Gongpu’s out now—he’s definitely gone to Songhe Bay. The house is barely guarded. Such a corrupt official must have immense wealth!”

“?”

Ye Hongshang blinked, then nodded slightly:

“Makes sense. Should we go in?”

Xie Jinhuan needed to set a trap before killing Li Gongpu, to avoid arousing the Emperor’s suspicion—but breaking into the house now didn’t require the Emperor’s approval.

He still lacked over twenty thousand taels for the medicinal herbs; relying on scattered Daoist patrons wouldn’t raise the sum quickly.

Here was a fat pig right before him—famous for corruption and bribery, yet dared to say Xie Jinhuan wouldn’t dare act.

If he didn’t sneak in, take a little of what was owed, how could he possibly repay Li Gongpu for staying up late hunting for his crimes?

With that thought, Xie Jinhuan abandoned his meal, watched the carriage vanish into the distance, paid his bill, crossed the street, avoided patrols both visible and hidden, and scaled the wall…

…

The autumn moon hung high.

Inside the luxurious mansion, silence reigned; only a few servants moved through the front courtyards.

Since the master was away, guards patrolled the outer compound to prevent illicit affairs among the women and children; the main house by the lake had its doors and windows tightly shut, with only one guest inspector patrolling the courtyard and corridors.

Xie Jinhuan moved cautiously, evading sentries, slipping through like a white-robed phantom until he reached the main courtyard, peering down from the eaves.

Ye Hongshang, to blend in, transformed into a tight red bodysuit with a red veil covering her face; from the side, she looked like a sultry female operative. After a quick reconnaissance, she gestured with a finger.

Zzzzzz~

A dragonfly sleeping in the tree canopy above was startled, fluttering away to the garden beyond the wall, landing in the shrubbery, wings buzzing furiously, producing a rustling “tsi-tsi-la-la.”

“Hm?”

The guest inspector in the pavilion frowned, listening intently, then drew his sword and leapt into the garden, searching for the source of the sound.

Seizing the opportunity, Xie Jinhuan flipped down from the eaves, landing silently before the main house’s door. After confirming no traps or mechanisms, he slipped inside.

Click~

The faint sound of the door closing left the lakeside courtyard undisturbed.

Ye Hongshang stood in the elegantly decorated room; after a single glance, she raised an eyebrow:

“Oh~ Your herbal funds are probably covered now.”

“Really?!”

The room was pitch-black; after a moment’s adjustment, Xie Jinhuan examined it by the faint moonlight.

Even with his considerable experience, he felt a flicker of astonishment.

Ignoring the screens, paintings, and furniture, even the carpet spread across the floor was made of tribute goods from the Western Regions—its embroidery and craftsmanship matched exactly the one in the Emperor’s study; the Emperor had one, and so did he.

The vases and porcelain were all imperial-grade, clearly imperial gifts—he’d seen only one or two such pieces in Lady Wuwei’s Wuyi Pavilion, yet here, an entire treasure shelf was filled with them!

Xie Jinhuan took in the scene, feeling as if he’d just won the grand prize with a single shot.

But to kill Li Gongpu, Xie Jinhuan first searched the study for incriminating evidence.

He found Li Gongpu was nothing but a lapdog: though corrupt, he’d never touched the Emperor’s sacred limits; the room held no evidence at all—every document related only to the Emperor’s meals, entertainment, and leisure.

For a man like this, even if Xie Jinhuan forged evidence, neither the Crimson Lin Guard nor the county office would dare raid his home—it would only expose himself.

After glancing around, Xie Jinhuan quietly approached the tea couch, pulled out the embroidered qilin blanket, expertly rolled it into a bundle, and began his treasure appraisal:

“A seven-color glass cup from Longyun Valley? This must’ve been looted from the people’s very flesh and blood…”

“Tsk tsk~ A rosary made from seeds of the Bodhi Tree of Tiantai Temple—no wonder he’s not afraid of ghosts knocking at his door at night…”

“Huh?! The handwriting of the Dual Saints Shrine—original, no less—and it’s in the hands of this old bastard? Pure waste of heaven’s gifts…”

“Damn! Chen Tong’s ‘Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains’ from the Painting Spirits—distant mountains show color, close-up waters make no sound—and it’s an original too. Now it’s mine…”

…

Ye Hongshang hovered before him, watching Xie Jinhuan methodically pack his loot—not gold, silver, or jade, but only calligraphy, paintings, and curios, even inkstones and paperweights spared nothing—and raised an eyebrow to comment:

“You only take what you love. When Li Gongpu returns, he’ll be furious.”

“That’s called getting exactly what you asked for. I didn’t even plan to touch him tonight—he was the one saying I lacked courage.”

After stripping every scroll and painting from the walls, Xie Jinhuan swept through the treasure shelves, taking not just the valuable items, but anything Li Gongpu frequently polished, handled, or kept centered—even if worthless, he bundled it all up.

Whether these things could be sold didn’t matter; what mattered was that Li Gongpu was gone!

Some large items were too heavy to carry, and Xie Jinhuan felt a pang of regret.

If only he had a storage ring—he’d have rolled up the entire carpet and taken it all, giving Li Gongpu a real surprise…

After thoroughly emptying the main chamber, Xie Jinhuan slung his hundred-pound bundle over his back, scanned the room once more to ensure nothing valuable was left, had his ghost bride inspect it again to erase all traces, then quietly slipped out of the room…

(End of Chapter)