After rebirth, she became the favorite of the powerful minister.

Only those who know Feng Qingtan know that beneath his unprepossessing appearance, this old man hides a character that is so rigorous that he is almost exact in every detail.

The books on the shelves were arranged with a certain order. The stacks in the corners were almost all the same thickness. Even the ropes binding the books were cut to the same length. Xu Chengjin had witnessed Feng Qingtan using a ruler to measure and trim the books. As a result, despite the large number of books in the study, it was never messy. The only unpredictable factor was probably Yuan Ge—this young lady never cared to organize, putting books wherever she found them. As she put it, "I'll be able to continue reading next time, so why bother with all this trouble?"

Xu Chengjin was not sure whether the pile of scattered books in front of him was read by Feng Qingtan or Yuan Ge, but it was obvious that given the old man's personality, he would always tidy them up whenever he had some free time.

The speculation in his heart was like an invisible tide surging over him, and Xu Chengjin almost stumbled and took half a step back.

He stared at the clearly age-old books, his fingers tightening at his sides. He hoped the answer lay within, better than wandering aimlessly like a headless fly, yet he was also uneasy that the answer lay within. Even with the answers clearly laid out in these ancient books, they would still be difficult to tame. Xu Chengjin clenched his fists, stepped forward, squatted, and scooped up the book from the ground. Just as he was about to open it, a tiny needle dropped out with a ding.

The needle tip is bent into the shape of a fishhook, so it won't hurt anyone even if you're careless.

This was Feng Qingtan's habit. He liked to use a bent silver needle to mark pages in his books, making it easier to flip through them. Sometimes he would jot down questions or thoughts on the hook. Xu Chengjin picked up the hook and flipped through it. It was a book he had never seen before, densely packed with annotations, mostly in the old man's own handwriting. He flipped through the pages one by one, and soon came to a page with a dog-eared corner. The corner was so large that it almost took up half the page.

That’s... Yuan Ge’s habit.

"Luxuriant and fragrant..."

As his gaze followed the annotations, Xu Chengjin's expression grew increasingly serious. He had heard and seen Wei Rui before, and precisely because he had heard and seen it before, he understood the difficulty of this matter.

Luxuriant, so scarce… He frowned, pondering, and subconsciously flipped back a page, only to see a trace of paper between the spines—the back page had been torn. He paused, then quickly flipped back, picking up the scattered books and flipping through them all, but still couldn't find the torn page. He looked around, finally focusing on the overly spacious desk. On either side of the desk were drawers, filled with notebooks and commonly used tools.

Xu Chengjin searched through drawers one by one until he found a piece of paper tucked inside a book that looked old and had been flipped through countless times. It was obvious that the piece of paper with cinnabar annotations had been torn from a book. He glanced at the annotations and his face turned pale. When the two were seamlessly pieced together, the color drained from his face.

The trees in the courtyard were sprouting new leaves. Sunlight streamed down from the distant horizon, casting sparse, flickering shadows into the study, which often remained closed. It was bright, yet devoid of warmth. Xu Chengjin stared at the cinnabar annotations for a long time, until his own shadow stretched ever longer before him. Then, as if waking from a long sleep, he slowly closed the book in his hands, then, propping himself up with his numb body, he slowly stood up and, dazed, stumbled out the door, carrying the book.

Even so, he still carefully locked the mechanism before going out.

……

Even Zhan Yanfeng himself didn't know when such a "prison cell" appeared on Zhixuan Mountain.

Judging from the location, it should be a converted abandoned woodshed. The windows were nailed shut with wooden boards, and the dilapidated wooden door was closed. There were wide gaps between the wooden boards, and light came through the gaps. Several thin bright lines spread from the door all the way into the house, and finally hit the person hanging in the middle.

The man's hands were tied with iron chains and he was hanging on the beam of the roof. He was wearing a long green robe and his chest was stained with large pools of blood. He hung his head and his messy hair covered his face, revealing only the lower half of a familiar face - Zhan Hongchang.

Zhan Yanfeng looked at his former right-hand man, who struggled with his wrists that were restrained behind his back by the guards, but failed to break free. So he glanced at Song Wenyuan who was sitting in the corner under the window, and asked with some displeasure, "What do you mean, Lord Song? Are you going to take his life here in Zhixuan Mountain?" After all, he was his confidant who had followed him all the way. They were master and servant, but also close relatives. It would have been fine if he couldn't see him, but now he had to watch him in this half-human, half-ghost state, and he couldn't bear it.

Song Wenyuan didn't even move his eyelids, and his expression couldn't be seen on his face hidden in the darkness. He just raised his fingertips when he heard the words. The guards behind Zhan Yanfeng understood and took a step back to loosen the restraints.

Zhan Yanfeng twisted his wrist and his expression eased a little. "I thought we have made it clear what we should and shouldn't say. Now Lord Song is torturing Hongchang here. I wonder why?" His voice was gentle, but his chin was raised, and he didn't look like a prisoner at all.

Song Wenyuan finally looked up. His movements seemed a little slow. He stared at Zhan Yanfeng for a long time, then slowly stood up, took two steps forward, stood with his hands behind his back, and suddenly smiled.

A very light, very light laugh, and as soon as it sounded, Zhan Hongchang, whose life or death was unknown, shuddered all over. The shudder was not obvious, but rather like a gust of wind from somewhere, shaking his whole body.

But outside, the sun was shining brightly, and the early spring breeze was as gentle as a veil. But where did the wind come from in this woodshed with its windows and door sealed? Zhan Yanfeng wasn't sure if he had misjudged him, so he called out softly, "Hongchang?"

The other party made no move.

It was as if he was dead, and the blood hanging from the corner of his mouth could not hold back and dripped silently to the ground.

At this moment, Zhan Yanfeng finally saw the expression of Song Wenyuan who was standing two steps away from him... gloomy, cruel, even excited and bloodthirsty.

Pale skin, dark pupils, his lips curled in a cold smile, "Have you really made it clear what should and shouldn't be said? But I want to know... more than that. But there's no rush... Bring a stool for the Third Elder to sit on. There's still a distinguished guest who hasn't arrived yet. Please be patient and wait for a while."

As soon as he finished speaking, footsteps were heard in the yard.

The light in the room dimmed, and Yanhuo's voice rang out, "Master."