Chapter 23: The Wang Family’s Treasure Vault!

Wang Yuanbao was a man whose wealth rivaled that of the nation itself; losing a mere twenty chests of gold, silver, and precious jewels was nothing to him. But the eighty-one pieces of colored glassware were another matter entirely—for those were gifts intended for the reigning Emperor! Without these treasures, the upcoming Millennium Festival at the palace would be sorely diminished. Should the Emperor’s countenance darken with anger, the Wang family would be gravely at fault. What could be done?

To commission another batch was impossible—there simply wasn’t time. As for finding them, how would one recover what’s lost when not even the means of disappearance are known?

This crisis left Wang Yuanbao so anxious that his mouth broke out in blisters; even consuming four or five pounds of herbs daily brought no relief. He publicly swore an oath: whoever could help him recover the eighty-one pieces of colored glassware would be rewarded with a tenth of his entire fortune!

Given Wang Yuanbao’s immense wealth, even a tenth of his estate was a staggering sum—enough for generations to squander in luxury.

The city of Chang’an was instantly thrown into a frenzy! The Golden Guard, the Imperial Guard, and all the constables of the Capital Prefecture were mobilized. For over half a month, they turned Chang’an upside down, yet not a trace of the colored glassware was found.

Not only were the treasures missing, but not even the faintest clue was uncovered. The Wang estate was a fortress with countless guards, and the treasure vault itself was heavily defended. How had the thieves entered, and how did they abscond with the loot?

Speculation and rumor ran rampant.

Some whispered that this was no crime of mortals, but the work of mountain spirits or ghosts—only such beings could leave no trace. Others insisted it must be an inside job; who else could breach the Wang family’s impregnable vault?

At this very moment, Ji Wen, the Prefect of the Capital, issued an edict: Li Zhao, the Chief Constable, was ordered to crack the Wang family’s vault theft within three days and recover the lost gold, jewels, and colored glassware, or else face severe punishment!

...

“Has Ji Wen been kicked in the head by a mule? And not just once! To demand that our young master solve such a baffling case in three days—this is sheer bullying!”

“Hmph! Rank alone can crush a man. Ji Wen is a third-rank official—he’s obviously out to get us.”

“Young master, did you offend Ji Wen? Is this his way of settling a personal grudge?”

Upon receiving the order, the four bodyguards erupted in curses, invoking the ancestors of Ji Wen and his female relatives in every conceivable way.

Jiang Hao, the most composed among them, suspected a deeper intrigue behind the case.

“Enough. When the cart reaches the mountain, there’ll be a road; when the boat reaches the bridge, it will straighten out. Let’s go to the Wang estate straightaway—perhaps we’ll find a clue. And bring Yaksha along—its nose is sharp and may help in the investigation!”

“Yes, sir!”

Li Zhao was fully aware that Ji Wen was settling a private score and that this matter undoubtedly involved the brothers Li Chong and Li Fei. But as Chief Constable, it was his duty to apprehend thieves and maintain order; he could not shirk the responsibility, however reluctantly.

...

The Wang estate stood within the Yiyang Ward—a vast compound of towering buildings, pavilions, waterside kiosks, two grand vermilion gates, and five tiers of marble steps. Its splendor surpassed even that of noble families!

It must be noted that merchants ranked lowest among the four classes—scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants—and suffered many discriminations: they could not wear silk, ride in carriages, use vermilion gates, nor participate in the civil examinations.

But money bends all rules. When a man’s wealth rivals the nation, such restrictions vanish.

Moreover, Wang Yuanbao was not only fabulously rich; he had close ties to the imperial family and was a prominent court merchant. Otherwise, however much wealth he amassed, the powerful would have long since bled him dry.

But enough digression.

Li Zhao, White Mantou, White Day Mouse, Jiang Hao, and the four bodyguards arrived at the Wang estate’s grand entrance, where they were immediately greeted by attendants in blue robes, all armed—a clear sign that security had been tightened to prevent another theft.

“Halt! Who goes there?”

...

“Li Zhao, Chief Constable, acting under the orders of the Capital Prefecture, here to investigate the theft from the Wang family vault!”

As he spoke, Li Zhao produced his badge to prove his identity, but the blue-robed attendants eyed him with undisguised contempt.

The theft had baffled even the most experienced investigators from the Golden Guard, the Imperial Guard, and the Capital Prefecture. What good could a handful of constables do? Moreover, most constables were seen as ruffians and scoundrels—if they were allowed inside, who knew what might go missing next? The attendants were not about to admit them.

At that moment, an elderly man in a blue robe emerged from inside—a kindly, dignified figure who appeared to be the head steward.

“What’s going on here?”

“Head Steward, the Capital Prefecture sent a squad of constables to investigate the vault theft. So many officials have already failed to crack the case—what good are these men? I—”

“Foolishness! They’re on official business; how could you bar them? Step aside at once! Forgive my subordinates’ ignorance, gentlemen. Please, come in!”

The head steward scolded the attendants, apologized to Li Zhao and his men, then personally escorted them into the estate.

This proved a simple truth: the higher one’s status, the less one postures. Only the lowly bluster like tailless curs!

“You must be weary—please, have some tea in the parlor first.”

“No need for tea; official business comes first. Please show us to the vault.”

“Very well—this way, gentlemen.”

Guided by the steward, they traversed several corridors toward the vault, when suddenly a golden flash shot straight at Li Zhao’s face.

With lightning reflexes, Li Zhao snatched it from the air—a solid gold pellet, the size of a medicinal pill, weighing over two taels. Who would be so extravagant as to use gold pellets for sport?

“Ha ha!”

From behind a nearby rockery, a handsome boy of eleven or twelve, splendidly dressed, leapt out, clutching a wooden slingshot and making faces at the group. Several young attendants followed—one carrying a water pot, another holding a parasol, a third bearing a tray brimming with golden pellets.

“Do not take offense, gentlemen—this is Young Master Longevity. He is rather mischievous... Please forgive him!”

“Ha, your young master certainly has character—using gold pellets to shoot at people.”

“Sigh. The master lost his son early, and this is his only grandson—inevitably, he dotes on him.”

The steward sighed and explained: Despite his vast fortune, Wang Yuanbao was a man of deep affection—he had married only once and had but one son. Ten years ago, calamity struck: his wife, son, and daughter-in-law died in quick succession, leaving only an infant grandson—Young Master Longevity.

Such compounded grief made Wang Yuanbao all the more indulgent toward his only grandchild—he would shield him from the wind, hold him in his mouth for fear he’d melt, promise him the moon if he asked for the stars... and so the boy was thoroughly spoiled.

Wang Changshou, now eleven, was brimming with energy and mischief: cockfighting, insect duels, dog races, kickball, and shooting people with gold pellets—anything enjoyed by the idle sons of wealth appealed to him, except for reading and writing, in which he showed no talent at all.

Wang Yuanbao had hired many renowned tutors in hopes of reforming his grandson, but the boy’s pranks drove each away—digging traps, setting ambushes, pouring urine in the ink box, hiding insects in the brush shaft, slipping bitter herbs into the tea—there was no end to his mischief. Not one tutor lasted half a month before fleeing.

In the end, even Wang Yuanbao gave up, resigning himself to let the boy run wild.

“Heh, the God of Wealth’s little terror is quite amusing!” Li Zhao chuckled. Then, while the others were distracted, he flicked the gold pellet back at lightning speed, striking Young Master Longevity squarely on the backside. The boy leapt three feet in pain, looking around in confusion.

A little discipline for a little terror!

...

The Wang family’s treasure vault was not above ground, but deep below. Three massive iron doors—each four to five inches thick and weighing over a thousand pounds—barred the way. Each door was fitted with three huge dog-head locks, nine in total, the keys to which were held by nine important members of the Wang family. Normally, all nine had to be present to open the vault; if even one was absent, entrance was impossible.

Outside the vault stood 150 exceptionally skilled and well-armed guards, divided into three shifts, maintaining an unbroken watch regardless of weather.

Within, the vault was the size of ten rooms, its walls constructed of granite slabs weighing hundreds of pounds, reinforced with iron bars and sealed with molten iron, leaving not the slightest gap—not even a steel needle could fit in.

The place had once been piled high with gold, silver, and jewels, but after the theft, everything was moved elsewhere.

“Jiang Hao, White Day Mouse, you two inspect the area carefully—see if there’s even the slightest clue.”

“Yes, sir!”

Jiang Hao had served as a constable for many years, solving hundreds if not thousands of thefts—his experience was formidable. White Day Mouse had long been a thief himself; if the crime was the work of another thief, it wouldn’t escape his eyes. Together, they were a perfect team.

Yet, after more than half an hour, both shook their heads helplessly. They had examined the doors, locks, and walls with great care—no signs of tampering whatsoever. The thieves had not forced the doors or the walls.

And yet, twenty chests of gold and jewels, and eighty-one pieces of colored glassware had vanished without a trace. How had the thieves entered and made off with the loot? Had they passed through walls?

No wonder the Golden Guard, Imperial Guard, and the constables of the Capital Prefecture were all at a loss. It was not incompetence, but the sheer difficulty of the case.

“Young master, this is too strange. Could the rumors be true? Was it an inside job by the Wang family?” Jiang Hao whispered.

Li Zhao pondered briefly, then shook his head firmly. First, the vault keys were held by nine key figures in the Wang family; unless all nine betrayed the family, it was impossible for one or two to commit the crime. Second, the loss of the colored glassware would bring disgrace at the Millennium Festival and spell disaster for the Wang family—even costing them their heads. Why would they bring ruin upon themselves?

If not an inside job, then outsiders. But what sort of person could silently steal so much in a single night?

“Master, could it be, as the rumors say, the work of mountain sprites or demons?” White Mantou suggested timidly, his face pale.

Folk legend held that the mountains harbored monstrous creatures—hideous, immensely strong, fiercer than tigers or leopards, and able to make themselves invisible—known as mountain sprites. These creatures were said to sneak into homes to steal, sometimes even abducting children.

If something vanished without a trace, people often blamed the sprites and made offerings to household gods for protection.

Li Zhao shook his head. He was not a complete skeptic, but he did not believe tales of sprites stealing money. The reason was simple: sprites had no use for money—why steal it?

Only people use money. Only people would steal it.

And if humans were involved, however ingenious the method, there would be a clue...

Woof woof—woof woof!

As the group continued their careful investigation, Yaksha, the dog, sniffed around and finally stopped at a corner, barking a warning to Li Zhao—it had found something!