Liu Bian at the start, so you're called Dong Zhuo, right?

The bloodshed and chaos in Ji Province were ultimately suppressed by Huangfu Song and Cao Cao.

But now the sharpest knives are all in Jizhou.

The chaos in Luoyang is beyond anyone's control.

-

Chengde Hall.

Wang Ming was still preparing tea for someone in the corridor, while Zhou Wen was holding a briefing sent back from Jizhou and quietly checking the words with a eunuch.

Just then, a very soft announcement came from outside the hall:

"Your Highness, there is a confidential report."

When the eunuch mentioned the word "secret report," he lowered his voice even further, as if afraid that someone with ulterior motives would overhear.

Wang Ming stepped forward and took it. As soon as his fingers touched the cover, he knew who had sent it.

It was neither the usual yellow seal nor the official document of the Ministry of Personnel. The cover paper was thin yet tough, with neatly folded edges. Only three small characters were engraved on the wax seal: "Luoyang Magistrate".

Since the last time Zhou Yu and his son were seen at Guangcheng Garden, Chengde Palace has been exchanging secret letters with Luoyang Temple.

Liu Bian glanced at it, then held out his hand: "Give it to me."

Upon receiving the secret letter, he instinctively pressed his fingertip against the wax seal—a method Xun Yu had taught him to judge how long ago the secret letter had been sent by the temperature of the wax.

The wax was still warm, indicating that it had only recently entered the palace and had taken the fastest and most discreet route.

Liu Bian personally broke open the wax seal and unfolded the folded paper.

He became familiar with this handwriting after the incident with Zhao Zhong:

"Your Highness, please open this letter:"

Since our parting at Guangcheng Garden, I have been secretly investigating matters concerning the Taiping Dao as Your Highness instructed. Recently, there has been frequent movement of pilgrims, porters, and temple servants within Luoyang City, with occasional coded messages being exchanged, none of which are recorded in the registers. I suspect that something major is about to happen.

Last night, a man was apprehended at the southern pass of the city. He was carrying an old-style travel permit from the Tianshang Association, and while the paper and watermark matched the old system, there were no hidden marks, and the handwriting on the permit was not typical of the Tianshang Association. The man's words were fragmented and evasive, and he was particularly afraid of being asked about "Jizhou" and "the palace market."

Your subject believes that this person may be the trigger, or he may be the mouthpiece.

He has now been imprisoned in Luoyang County Prison and is under strict guard. I dare not interrogate him without authorization, for fear of alerting him. Therefore, I request Your Highness to come and observe in person. Perhaps you can extract the "road" and "hand" from his mouth.

—Zhou Yi, Magistrate of Luoyang.

When Liu Bian read the words "old-style road sign" and "no hidden mark", a glint of light flashed in his eyes.

We finally caught them!

Before he could even turn the letter back, his fingertips were already tapping the edge of the table, the sound barely concealing his excitement:

"Wang Ming".

Wang Ming immediately stepped forward: "Your Highness."

Liu Bian looked up, and a rare hint of urgency appeared in his eyes:

"Prepare the horses."

Wang Ming was taken aback and subconsciously glanced outside the hall.

Night had fallen.

These are turbulent times. Huangfu Song and Cao Cao are currently in Ji Province, and it is unknown when they will return. Traveling at night may not be safe.

Wang Ming swallowed hard, and still whispered his advice:

"Your Highness, it's already dark. The county jail is damp and gloomy, and it's in the city, with narrow roads and many people... Why don't you take your guards and go there early tomorrow morning?"

Liu Bian, however, seemed not to have heard the word "tomorrow".

He stared at the secret memorial, his mind filled with only one image: the man was being held in the county jail, and if he stayed there overnight, his mouth might be sealed shut; if he stayed there overnight, Zhou Yi might also be targeted.

"The thief has been caught." Liu Bian's voice was not loud, but firm. "At a time like this, how can we wait until tomorrow?"

Wang Ming backed down:

"Your Highness may leave the palace, then please take twenty personal guards with you."

Liu Bian thought for a moment, then shook his head:

"Bringing too many people will cause too much of a commotion," Liu Bian said. "Since Zhou Yi said he 'dares not to presume to investigate,' it means the matter hasn't been exposed yet. If I lead a squad of armored soldiers to the county jail, the whole of Luoyang will know that the Crown Prince is going to interrogate someone."

He folded the secret memorial, tucked it into his sleeve, and spoke quickly and steadily:

"I'll just take a quick look and come back."

"Just one glance, two questions."

"We need results tonight."

Wang Ming wanted to say more, but Liu Bian had already stood up.

As he stood up, a slight breeze stirred the lamplight on the desk.

"You stay inside the palace and keep an eye on the movements at the entrance of Chengde Hall, and see who leaves quickly tonight and who arrives at the right time."

Liu Bian placed his hand on the sword at his waist, his knuckles tightening slightly.

Opportunity waits for no one.

He only left one sentence:

"Prepare the horses."

Wang Ming couldn't refuse, so he could only grit his teeth and agree: "Yes."

-

The palace gates were opened very quietly.

When the imperial guards saw the crown prince's token at night, they didn't dare to ask any questions and knelt down in neat rows.

Liu Bian mounted his horse, tossed his cloak aside, and left without any attendants. He even kept Zhou Wen inside the palace.

He rode out of the palace alone.

The night wind in Luoyang hit me, carrying the smells of lamp oil, incense, and a damp, earthy odor.

Strings of lanterns hung in the streets, the night market had not yet ended, and people were still selling soup dumplings at the alley entrance, their shouts carried by the wind.

In the distance, a watchman strikes his clapper three times, the sound like a blow to the heart.

Liu Bian slowed down the horse's speed.

He can't go too fast.

Too fast and conspicuous.

But he can't slow down either.

If you're too slow, the mouth might be gone.

He took a familiar route around the palace market and passed through a narrow alley. The alley was dimly lit, casting deep shadows. Vines climbed the walls, and when the wind blew, the vines rustled, like someone shaking their sleeves in the dark.

The sound of horses' hooves tapping on the bluestone was crisp and clear.

The excitement of catching someone for the first time in years made Liu Bian unaware of a fatal detail: it was too quiet.

The nights in Luoyang should be even noisier.

-

The Luoyang County Prison was located in the eastern part of the city, near the border between temples and government offices.

The air changes as soon as you get close.

The smell of incense was strong, the walls were damp, and there was the sound of dripping water in the shadows, drop by drop, like counting the blood of a person.

There were yamen runners guarding outside the county gate. Upon seeing someone riding towards them from afar, they immediately gripped the sword at their waist.

"Who dares to trespass into Luoyang County Prison? Dismount immediately!"

Liu Bian tossed him a token, which the jailer caught, glanced at, and immediately knelt down to pay his respects, his voice trembling:

"Greetings, Your Highness."

Liu Bian dismounted, his hand on the hilt of his sword, his voice calm:

"Where is Zhou Ling?"

The constable bowed his head: "Zhou Ling is waiting inside. He said His Highness has arrived. Just go in and find him."

Liu Bian nodded, looked at him again, and stepped into the prison.

The corridors within the county are long and secluded, with lamps spaced far apart, their light swallowed up by the walls, leaving only a pale yellow glow. The stone slabs underfoot are slippery, with a subtle "adhesive" sensation, as if coated with a thin layer of oil.

Liu Bian did not walk fast.

The further in you go, the quieter it gets.

It was so quiet that he could hear the rustling of his own sleeves and the soft thud of the scabbard tapping against his waist.

He turned a corner.

Ahead is a short corridor leading to the prison cell.

The door at the end of the short corridor was half-open, with a sliver of light shining through the crack.

There are moving shadows in the light.

It looks like someone is walking inside.

Liu Bian stopped in his tracks, slowly suppressing the breath he was catching in his throat.

He suddenly felt that something was wrong.

He had been inside for quite some distance, yet he hadn't seen a single jailer.

But now that things have come to this, he can only keep moving forward.

He reached the door, stretched out his hand, and was about to push it open.

Suddenly, the lights in the corridor behind me went out with a "poof," as if they had been suddenly pressed down by the wind, and went out by half in an instant.

At the same time, a very faint "click" came from the base of the wall beside him.

It wasn't wood that made the sound.

Like the release of the spring in a crossbow.

Liu Bian's pupils contracted sharply, and his body moved faster than his thoughts—he suddenly turned to the side, his scabbard slamming against the wall.

"Whoosh—!"

A cold light flashed past the spot where he had just been standing, then struck the door with a dull thud.

Crossbow bolts.

The next instant, the shadows around them seemed to be pulled at the same time—

At least three dark figures silently slid out from the wall, the beam, and behind the door.

There was no shout of killing.

There were no unnecessary movements.

Their only goal is to kill.