Chapter 100: Reaching Out from Beneath the Coffin
The so-called life of ceaseless toil is one without a moment’s rest.
By the time Chen Cong left the Cao residence, it was already noon.
Without delay, Chen Cong swung onto Jueying and headed westward.
“Just heard it, so what? Why cry? Afraid I’ll kill you to keep you quiet?”
Earlier, there had been rapid breathing and faint sobbing from inside the box.
After Chen Cong spoke those words, an eerie silence fell.
Who would have expected that Chen Cong not only refrained from calming her down but also pressed his ear close to the ventilation hole, deliberately letting the captive inside clearly see that he was eavesdropping.
After a long while, Diao Chan’s face flushed red. Unable to hold her breath any longer, she dared only to open her mouth slowly to exhale.
Then, feigning a sleepy murmur, she said lazily, “General, where exactly are we headed?”
She even pretended to act innocent?
No wonder they say women are born actors, masters of lying with open eyes.
Regardless of Chen Cong’s hearing ability, they were separated only by a thin wooden panel. Diao Chan was silently sobbing inside, trembling violently like a leaf in the wind—there was no way Chen Cong couldn’t feel it.
He was certain that Diao Chan had long been awake and had even overheard the entire conspiracy between him and Jia Xu.
Of course, Chen Cong never intended to hide it from her in the first place.
Between people, sincerity is the ultimate weapon.
If the secret is shared, isn’t it a bond of life and death?
And if bound by life and death, isn’t that the truest form of love?
But now Diao Chan pretended ignorance and seemed to want to back out—this was something Chen Cong could not accept. He immediately repeated, “You heard it all, we’re going to forge the imperial seal.”
Diao Chan’s eyes suddenly widened.
She couldn’t admit it! Absolutely couldn’t! She’d be killed to keep quiet for sure!
She trembled as she whispered, “General... forging the imperial seal is a grave crime.”
“Oh? How grave?” Chen Cong asked.
“Treason of the highest order, punishable by extermination of the entire nine clans.”
Chen Cong laughed. “Nine clans, huh? Perfect—then I’ll take you along. Down there you can help lull me to sleep.”
Her heart seemed to skip a beat.
Suddenly, she remembered—she had already been given to Chen Cong by Wang Yun!
Whether as a concubine, servant, or lowly maid, legally she belonged to Chen Cong.
Even if nothing had happened yet.
But when it came to punishment, who cared about all that?
So, should she try to quickly pass on this earth-shattering plot to her adoptive father?
Would he save her?
Before she could answer, they had already reached the West Market.
When in trouble, it was always best to seek familiar faces.
---
After leaving Wu Xi’s place, Chen Cong went straight to Hu’s seal engraving shop.
The shopkeeper was a scruffy but delicate-looking man.
The key was that Wu Xi mentioned he was illiterate and needed the seal design traced beforehand.
This saved Chen Cong a lot of trouble.
Chen Cong placed the imperial edict, the jade mold, and a gold ingot on the table.
“Please, sir, copy it exactly. Speed is essential.”
The man glanced at Chen Cong, took the gold ingot, studied the edict for a moment, and then busied himself.
Chen Cong stood by the door, holding the box like a guardian, refusing entry to any customers.
Time ticked by.
As the sun moved westward, the rumbling inside the box grew steady, and finally, the man stopped.
He dipped the seal into cinnabar paste and pressed it onto cloth.
A rough glance revealed it was astonishingly similar—about ninety percent alike!
...
Meanwhile,
Wang Yun was hosting his fourth birthday banquet of the year.
The Si Tu Mansion was filled with the sound of music and laughter, a lively scene.
There were 128 seats arranged on two sides.
In the hall, singers and dancers performed.
Every performer was breathtakingly beautiful and scantily clad.
The guests watched with longing eyes, unable to tear themselves away.
Cups clinked and glasses passed back and forth.
Unnoticed, the performances ended, servants withdrew, lanterns in the courtyard were taken down one by one, the main gate shut tight, and a dim candlelight flickered inside the hall.
The guests were puzzled and whispered among themselves until a sorrowful cry came from the seat of honor.
“What is the meaning of this, Lord Wang?”
Wang Yun wept loudly until the murmurs died down, then wiped his red eyes and looked around.
“To be honest with you all, today is not my birthday. I fear spies among us, hence this charade.”
He paused, then continued,
“Friends, there is a righteous swordsman demanding ransom: seventy-four brothels in Luoyang. If those present are generous, tomorrow you shall see the traitor’s head hanging outside the East Gate.”
Unlike gatherings of the imperial faction,
this invitation brought together a motley crowd.
There were fence-sitters in court and representatives of noble families, so Wang Yun dared not speak plainly.
If the secret leaked, not only would Chen Cong’s life be forfeit, but Wang Yun himself as an accomplice would not escape punishment.
As expected,
Wang Yun’s words drew many skeptical voices.
“Who is this swordsman? If he dares to stab Dong Zhuo for the sake of justice and charity, seeking ransom would ruin his reputation.”
“Yes, Lord Wang, why not reveal this person so we can judge?”
“This swordsman is strange—he doesn’t want gold or jade, only those filthy brothels. Why?”
The opposition came mainly from powerful families outside government.
Since they were not officials, Dong Zhuo’s relocation of the capital had little impact on them, and even brought benefits.
Once the tyrant left, taking ministers with him, these families would become the undisputed rulers of Luoyang.
At this moment, calling on them to make sacrifices against Dong Zhuo was madness.
But such people were a minority.
Their voices were soon drowned out by another faction.
“If true, I offer the deed and slave contracts of the Hundred Flowers Tower.”
“I offer the deed and slave contracts of the Red Sleeve Pavilion.”
“I offer—”
Whether fence-sitters or imperial loyalists,
those truly harmed by Dong Zhuo’s capital move had no hesitation in making verbal commitments.
Who this swordsman was, they didn’t care; if Wang Yun said he existed, then so be it.
Of course,
it was better if the swordsman truly existed, but it didn’t matter if not.
Once the capital moved, all their land deeds would become void, and with worthless deeds, they could still curry favor with the Si Tu—invaluable!
“Then I shall withdraw. Fellow ministers, I take my leave.”
“Wait!” Wang Yun hurriedly called after him.
“Does the Si Tu have further instructions?”
“Three thousand gold— I am willing to buy the deeds and slave contracts of the Emerald Red Tower. I ask Young Master Wei to kindly part with them.”
The young man was about to agree but reconsidered.
“I thank all ministers for their offerings; surely Lord Wang won’t overlook my humble household?”
“My lord, you should know all seventy-four brothels are indispensable.”
“Oh?”
The young man pondered.
“It’s not that I’m unwilling, but my family is struggling, barely scraping by on meager income. If you truly want it... how about fifty thousand gold?”
Those noble families who followed this young man did not raise the price.
Profit-seeking is human nature, yet so is risk aversion.
The Hedong Wei family dared to demand a premium from the Si Tu because of their power and impunity.
But these small families knew better than to spoil Wang Yun’s plans. If they angered him, even with the capital moving, they could be destroyed.
Better to die lucky for money than to die foolish for it.
“Three thousand gold—I will sell the Warm Flower Pavilion.”
“Five thousand gold—I offer the Four Seasons Tower.”
“Two thousand gold...”
Wang Yun thanked each family in turn, then his eyes grew cold as he turned to the young man.
“Fine, fifty thousand gold it is. Young Master Wei, fetch the contracts.”
“Wait a moment,” the young man cleared his throat, smiled, and strode out of the mansion.