Chapter 133: Aftermath

By daybreak, the attic was practically burned to ashes.
The busy servants were all drenched in sweat, occasionally whispering to one another about the fire as they hurried back and forth.
Ever since they returned to the Tianci Pavilion, Xiaochun and Xiaomi had been fighting the fire in their nightwear, and afterwards they were too busy taking care of themselves to mind their own appearance. Normally, servants ought to act this way; in their hearts, their master always came first.

Wanyuan set down her wooden basin and ran over, sweating profusely, her exquisite curves accentuated by her thin silk tunic, making for a rather captivating and pleasing sight.
With a slight cough, she—acting as the mistress—told them to go quickly and change into proper attire.
As for the situation in the back courtyard, she had learned after arriving that it was the Manicheans who had infiltrated the premises, only to be repelled by Cen Shen and Gao Shi, who reeked strongly of peppercorns.

Upon returning to Tianci Pavilion, amidst the raging inferno that could not be fully extinguished, she received a report from Yu Chaoen: two palace guards keeping watch through the night had been killed, along with a patrolling servant.
Hearing this, anger surged within her. Based on Chu'er's professional assessment, she realized the culprit was none other than the assassin whose legs had been broken the previous night.
He had infiltrated the Tianci Pavilion with malicious intent and should ordinarily have been executed on the spot, but to extract useful information and intelligence from him, they had no choice but to let the Divine Doctor treat his injuries first.

Before long, the Grand Marshal, though not yet fully recovered, took over the interrogation. After all, the princess's estate had certain methods it could not employ, and leaving the task to the River-and-Lake-savvy Unyielding Bureau posed no real problem.
By dawn, the half-collapsed attic was still emitting thin wisps of blue smoke. The collapsed sections were pitch black, the timbers reduced essentially to charred logs. Renovation was out of the question unless it was completely rebuilt. Fortunately, the plaque bearing the calligraphy bestowed by her adoptive father remained undamaged, save for a layer of soot.

As for the unfortunate casualties, the two dead guards were somewhat pitiful. Aside from placating their grieving families, there was also the need to explain things to the Grand General of Longwu. Since these fellows were originally from the Longwu Army and had died in such a bizarre fashion right in front of the princess's manor, it had struck a raw nerve in Wu Yueling; the Manicheans were all the more unforgiving.

She tapped open the design system interface and brought up the three-dimensional map of Chang'an City. Only a small northwestern section of the city remained to be completed. Because of her current imperial status, the architectural map of the inner palace had already been prepared long ago.

Exiting the system, she went to the spare building in the back courtyard, sat down, and fell into deep thought.
The floor was littered with jars and bottles containing gunpowder, while the table was covered with blueprints and slightly damaged draft papers.
The blueprints, stored in the secret chamber, had been dropped down to the lower floor along with everything else and were largely undamaged.
The draft papers, having been kept inside her bedroom desk, were half-burned by the time the fire was extinguished. Fortunately, Chu'er had the presence of mind to rescue them. A corner of the manuscripts was scorched, but the damage was not severe.

She began sorting through the manuscripts, starting with the original draft of *Journey to the West*, which she had adapted based on her memories of the television series.
If the original author of the story, should he ever conceive the same idea later on, were to lay eyes on this work, one could only wonder what he might think.
She couldn't be bothered to care; future matters could be dealt with in the future.

Another manuscript was *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, a story also written from memory. She had always favored the loyal ministers and famous generals within it, though it was a pity that after transmigrating to ancient times, she found herself in a female body.
Rubbing her chin, she wondered if she should simply play the role of Hua Mulan and become a heroic woman... or perhaps a tomboyish heroine? Glancing into the bronze mirror, her temperament didn't fit that image at all...

So what if she was born a woman? She was still herself—still that ordinary, plain, and unremarkable person she had always been.
Moving the manuscripts aside, her gaze fell upon a pitch-black iron mask. This item was slightly more troublesome.
The drafts underneath the mask were similarly scorched at the corners.

This work was quite distinct; it was entirely original, initially written using Batman as a template for punishing evil and promoting good. However, after finishing it, she felt that the elements within were too rigidly righteous to feel real.
Consequently, she revised the contents several times. Wu Yueling had defined the protagonist as a knight-errant who embraced the darkness in the pursuit of justice. The book was titled *The Black Knight*. Much like the black mask itself, she had no idea how the literati of Chang'an would critique this book, as it was hardly something people of the current era could fully comprehend!
This was precisely why she had kept it hidden away all this time; it truly did not quite align with the era.

She continued rummaging until she found the assassination target. Speaking of which, An Lushan was not in Chang'an at all; he was reportedly serving as the Military Commissioner in Lingwu. Now was not the time to deal with him—until the matter of the Manicheans was resolved, she simply had no spare energy for anything else.

However, one matter needed to be brought forward. Through Old He's connections, she had tracked down the legal official responsible for drafting and amending the Tang Code. The fellow's name was Wei Jian; he was a rather slick character, and according to Old He, quite fond of flattery.

Just as Wu Yueling was pondering how to draft a new provision regarding the relationship between masters and servants in the Tang Code, the commander of the Unyielding Bureau appeared.

"Your Highness, the fellow could not withstand the harsh torture and has already confessed!"

The visitor had a face full of stubble and looked like a middle-aged uncle.
At the moment, his complexion was rather pale, as if he had sustained internal injuries, but his speech and movements were meticulous, bearing no resemblance to the ways of an elderly slacker.

"What is the man's name? Which rank of leader in the Manichean cult is he?"
She asked this for a reason. Anyone capable of silently infiltrating the princess's manor, ruthlessly executing the guards, and fighting Chu'er to a standstill had been naturally presumed to be connected to the Manichean cult, given the timing of the attack.

Yet, Liang Zixin's reply was quite unexpected: the man was not a cult leader, but an assassin from the Tenth League, a notoriously infamous flower-picker of the Jianghu known by the name Night Wraith.

Hearing this, Wu Yueling broke into a cold sweat. Without needing further explanation, she understood that this fellow had come specifically for her. A flower-picker daring to run wild right on her doorstep...

Composing herself, she quickly made a decision.
"Where is the fellow? Take me to see him. Also, what on earth is this Tenth League?"

On the way, Liang Zixin relayed the intelligence regarding the Tenth League.
The Tenth League was also one of the most notorious organizations in the Jianghu—an assassin alliance composed of heinous criminals. If someone paid them for a life, they took the money and delivered death.

Wu Yueling was reminded of escort agencies, which were also operations that traded lives for money. She asked whether there were any orthodox sects or knight-errant alliances in the Jianghu, and the reply she received was negative. If any existed, they were merely scattered martial artists who had reached the half-master realm. In an era like this, when people could barely look after themselves, who would bother practicing chivalry?

True enough; without shared interests, how could people on the same stage play the same tune? Birds of a feather flock together, after all!

Arriving at the small annex near the animal pens, she saw the Night Wraith.
The man's face was bruised black and blue, a clear sign of a severe beating. His coarse hemp garments were soaked in blood, and Wu Yueling caught the pungent scent of chili water. Judging by appearances, he had been whipped and then doused with chili water. Just imagining the sensation sent a shudder through her; she could practically feel the agonizing burn of chili water on open wounds.

Seeming to sense her arrival, the fellow raised his head slightly. Both of his eyes were severely deformed from the beating, looking thoroughly unnatural, but his clear gaze was intensely chilling—truly the look of a hardened villain, though hard to reconcile with a mere flower-picker... Well, her initial judgment had been off; the man's expression had already shifted. Seeing her appearance, he lost his composure and broke into an unsettling, sickly smile. Confirmation unquestionable: he was indeed a flower-picker.
Truly, one could not judge a book by its cover...

"Hey, you must be the princess, right?"

She ignored him, having no desire to engage. Perhaps due to psychological aversion, she actively loathed such people, so she turned instead to Zhang Heng beside her.
"Have you extracted all the intelligence?"

"Yes, Your Highness! It has all been extracted!"
Though his complexion was not entirely well, Zhang Heng put on the proper demeanor of a subordinate, dropping to one knee with his fists cupped.

"Your Highness! Your Highness! Spare this humble one's life! The wealth I have amassed within the League is more than enough to buy this cheap life of mine..."

Without looking back, she continued walking toward the door, only halting her steps when the man's voice faded into despair.
"Kill him."