For several days afterward,
A Mei thoroughly enjoyed her role as the imperial envoy’s wife in Lindong, basking in the flattery and obsequious praise of everyone around her.
The wives of every respectable official in Lindong flocked to visit and invite her out. A Mei spent her days receiving gifts, dining, drinking, sightseeing, listening to music, and watching operas. She was busier than she had ever been—and enjoying every moment of it.
As for Imperial Envoy An Sheng, he was even busier. From dawn to dusk, his schedule was packed with banquets and social engagements.
At first, Prince Anchang and his trusted aides had been on high alert, treating the envoy as a formidable enemy. But as the days passed and they grew more familiar with Lord An, they gradually came to understand him, and the taut strings in their hearts slowly began to loosen.
Unfortunately, the good times did not last. Before long, everyone discovered that for every day the envoy remained in Lindong, their purses grew lighter.
The reason was simple: An Sheng and his wife were simply far too greedy!
They could tolerate Lord An’s constant air of superiority, his arrogance, domineering behavior, and volatile cruelty.
But even after they had offered him ample benefits, he still acted as though he saw nothing but money—being petty, grasping, and insatiable. That was more than anyone could bear.
For a time, everyone in Lindong’s officialdom prayed that they could send the imperial envoy away as soon as possible.
The trouble began in the latter half of the night several days later.
Prince Anchang was sleeping soundly when a rapid pounding at the door suddenly woke him.
Furious, Prince Anchang was about to explode when two of his trusted ministers hurried in. One of them was red-faced and drenched in sweat from anxiety.
“My prince, this is bad! Lord An has gone to Dragonbone Mountain, and he’s killed quite a few of our soldiers!”
Prince Anchang’s eyes widened at once. His heart jolted, and he snarled, “What happened? How did he find out about Dragonbone Mountain?”
“Well…” The trusted aide’s eyes darted aside. He hesitated, clearly unwilling to speak.
Prince Anchang glared at him.
At that moment, Old Zou entered from outside, his expression grave. Behind him came the steward of the imperial envoy’s residence.
“This matter is rather complicated,” Old Zou said as he walked in. “If Lord An truly went there by accident, the coincidence is simply too great. But if he did it deliberately, then given the current situation, this old minister cannot make sense of it either.”
Old Zou first gave Prince Anchang a reassuring look, then turned to the steward beside him.
“Starting from when Lord An returned to the residence yesterday, tell us everything you know—from beginning to end.”
The steward hurriedly nodded and reported every detail. “Yes, my prince. My lords, Lord An returned to the residence yesterday just as the hour of the Boar was beginning. I saw that it was our heir who escorted him home.”
Old Zou nodded. “That is correct. Yesterday, the heir hosted a banquet at the High Pavilion north of the city. This old minister was there as well. Although the prince did not attend, he knew about it. The banquet ended at a quarter past the ninth hour, and the journey from the north of the city to that residence would have taken exactly that long.”
Prince Anchang gave a low hum, his gaze darkening. “Go on.”
The steward continued, “Lord An did indeed return home later than usual last night, and he was drunk when he came back. Lady An, who had been waiting for him, was none too pleased. Not long after Lord An entered their room, the servants heard things being smashed inside. I worked up the courage to creep closer and listen, and I gathered that Lady An had somehow detected the scent of a woman’s rouge on Lord An. She insisted that he had gone behind her back and found himself another woman, and angrily picked a fight with him. She even shouted that she would never let him sleep in their bed again. In the end, she drove him out of the bedchamber.”
At this point, the steward seemed to recall something amusing. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he dared not laugh openly in Prince Anchang’s presence. Struggling to keep a straight face, he continued, “All of us servants were waiting in the courtyard at the time, so we saw it with our own eyes. Lord An stood outside the door, his face shifting between red and green. He knocked for quite some time and said every soft word he could think of, but Lady An simply refused to open the door. That left Lord An absolutely livid. In the end, he called for his subordinates and insisted that he was going out for a horseback ride to sober up and get some fresh air. Then he swept grandly out of the residence with them. As for where he went afterward, this servant has no idea.”
Once the steward finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the room.
Even Prince Anchang could not help commenting sarcastically, his face full of disdain. “Who would have thought that Lady An, despite looking so young, would be such a formidable woman? Hmph. So what if he is an imperial commissioner? So what if he commands the Inner Court Office? Ha! After being castrated, he won the emperor’s favor through flattery and sycophancy. He fawns on those above him and bullies those beneath him. When all is said and done, he is nothing more than a eunuch who cannot even handle a woman.”
Prince Anchang had held An Sheng in contempt from the very beginning. Having finally vented his frustration, his expression relaxed somewhat, though his complexion remained unpleasant. He returned to the matter at hand. “Then what do you mean when you say he slaughtered our soldiers?”
Old Zou furrowed his brows deeply. “Before coming here, this old minister made some inquiries and gained a general understanding of the situation. Dragonbone Mountain lies in a remote location, with a horse ranch nearby. Lord An must have learned of it somehow and headed straight there. However, at the only fork in the road, he took the wrong path and ended up making directly for Dragonbone Mountain.”
“Dragonbone Mountain is of great importance to Lindong and has always been heavily guarded. Lord An and his entourage were traveling at night in plain clothes, and the soldiers stationed there did not recognize him, so naturally…”
At this point, Old Zou paused. Everyone understood what he meant, and someone immediately continued, “Lord An has always been arrogant and petty, and he could never tolerate the slightest slight. How could he endure such treatment? He flew into a rage on the spot. Once he revealed his identity and summoned his personal guards, our men realized that he was the imperial commissioner and immediately apologized and begged for mercy. But who would have thought he would be so deranged—bloodthirsty, vicious, and utterly merciless? He did not give them a chance to explain, nor did he listen to a word they said. He simply began slaughtering them. The brutality of his methods was truly horrifying!”
The moment Old Zou finished speaking, another official, already as anxious as an ant on a hot griddle, could not help blurting out, “Your Highness, I beg you to go at once! These days, apart from Your Highness, that Lord An refuses to show anyone the slightest respect. Since we received word until now, Lord An has been wielding the Imperial Sword and slaughtering dozens of our men as if venting his fury. Your Highness! I beg you, on behalf of the soldiers under my command—please save them!”
Prince Anchang immediately let out a cold snort. “He is killing this prince’s soldiers on this prince’s own territory, treating me as though I am no one! This is going too far! Come. I shall go and see exactly what this Lord An intends to do!”
——
Dragonbone Mountain, the training grounds.
An Sheng lounged lazily in a Grand Tutor’s chair that had been moved over for the occasion. His narrow eyes were half closed, and a satisfied smile played at the corners of his mouth. Yet at his feet lay one blood-soaked head after another. The scene was horrifying beyond words.
An Sheng had not lifted a finger himself. His clothes remained immaculate. All he needed to do was cast a glance, and one of his loyal subordinates would drag a man forward. Then, with a sweep of a long saber, the head would fall, and blood would spray in a vivid crimson arc—dazzling in its brilliance.
The entire training ground was shrouded in a suffocating silence. There were no desperate cries for mercy, no shrieks or struggles. An Sheng had ordered the men to be bound so tightly that they could not move, with their mouths stuffed full as well. Those whose mouths had been particularly foul at the beginning had long since had their tongues cut out. By now, not a single sound could escape them.
By the time Prince Anchang arrived with his men, the first thing he saw was this hellish scene. An Sheng was extending his long, pale fingers, counting one by one the heads neatly arranged before his chair.
At the sight, Prince Anchang nearly collapsed. His legs went weak, and for a moment, he almost fainted.
“Oh? What brings Your Highness here?” An Sheng rose from the Grand Tutor’s chair, his face wearing a smile so warmly welcoming that it was downright eerie. “Quickly, go find His Highness a seat as well.”
Prince Anchang began trembling uncontrollably. When his eyes met An Sheng’s, he realized with a start that An Sheng was actually smiling. In his eyes was the excitement of something long suppressed, along with the grim, frenzied pleasure of having finally unleashed all the violence and brutality he had kept buried for so long.
That single glance left Prince Anchang’s mind utterly blank. Though he had a thousand things to say, not one word could force its way out.
A gust of wind swept past, carrying the heavy stench of blood straight into their faces. It was enough to make one retch.
Taking the initiative as host, An Sheng looked at Prince Anchang and the people behind him with a teasing, half-smiling expression. In a low, unhurried voice, he said, “Ever since I came to Lindong, I’ve always been approachable and broad-minded. But after all this time, I suppose I should let everyone know what I used to do for a living, shouldn’t I?”
——
