Yun Zhao pretended not to notice the plea in Yan Nantian’s eyes as she led her team out of the government office in a flurry of activity.
The night grew darker.
The coastal city was shrouded in a damp, cold sea mist, and tiny droplets of water condensed on the roads and buildings, giving everything a moist, bluish-gray hue.
As the firelight passed over them, the droplets shimmered like fish scales.
Yu Fengyun looked as wilted as a frostbitten eggplant.
When he had passed by Wen Nuannuan earlier, holding his “reward,” he hadn’t dared to glance at her.
Yun Zhao couldn’t help but gloat: “Now she won’t think you’re useless anymore!”
Yu Fengyun: “…”
Yun Zhao tried to console him: “With a face like yours, why are you so hung up on Wen Nuannuan, that twisted tree? I don’t see much hope for you two.”
He managed a faint smile and countered, “If your fiancé hadn’t strayed, she’d have come back to me eventually after hitting a wall—so, do you think there’s hope?”
Yun Zhao: “…”
Well, that wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
After a moment of silence, he spoke up again: “Aren’t you disappointed?”
“Disappointed about what?” Yun Zhao raised an eyebrow and smirked. “That we couldn’t convict her?”
She chuckled softly. “I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.”
Yu Fengyun couldn’t help but give her another look. He had expected someone as spoiled and headstrong as her to throw a tantrum and insist on Wen Nuannuan’s guilt.
“You don’t understand,” Yun Zhao said, putting on a world-weary expression. “Breaking her invincible image is already a big win!”
As the villain might say, the heroine is kind, pure, and beloved by all, never fighting for anything, yet always receiving favors thrust upon her.
A pristine white lotus.
Yun Zhao grinned mischievously: “Now everyone knows that Wen Nuannuan is scheming for power and status.”
Did she really think she could return to Yun Manor with her reputation intact, welcomed with open arms?
Dream on!
*
Wen Nuannuan collapsed onto the cold, damp stone floor, her eyes lifting helplessly to the man before her.
Backlit, he was dressed in black, his pale face shadowed and unreadable.
“I… I…” Her teeth chattered, her voice trembling with grievance. “I really don’t know anything about the Green Iron Cauldron. I’m truly innocent…”
Why was he looking at her with such a terrifying gaze, forcing her to confess?
Just because… just because she had stood up to Yun Zhao?
“Of course you don’t know about the Green Iron Cauldron,” he said calmly, as if discussing the weather. “Your dagger was placed on the spine of the book, so it wouldn’t leave obvious evidence.”
She shuddered, drawing in a sharp, cold breath.
Her pupils shook with shock and confusion, as if she’d seen a ghost.
“You… you knew… you… the Green Iron Cauldron was you… why… why…”
His face remained hidden in the shadows, but she could tell he was smiling.
“Insisting on investigating at night,” he sighed with amusement. “Searching through so many books by firelight—it’s bad for the eyes.”
So he had deliberately created a conspicuous piece of evidence for Yun Zhao.
Wen Nuannuan’s voice trembled as she forced out the words: “Why… why…”
Her insides felt like they were twisting into knots, and she could barely speak coherently.
But he clearly understood what she was asking.
If he knew everything, why hadn’t he helped her cover it up?
Yan Nantian let out a low chuckle.
Then he leaned in closer, his quiet sandalwood scent enveloping her like a mountain.
He whispered softly into her ear: “Dreaming of returning to Yun Manor with your reputation intact? Remember, you’re just a pile of mud—a reassuring pile of mud for Yun Zhao to step on.”
“I need her to feel secure,” he repeated gently. “To feel completely secure.”
Wen Nuannuan felt as if she’d been plunged into an icy abyss, shivering uncontrollably.
A gust of night wind swept in, carrying with it a pungent, acrid smell.
Immersed in it, she felt as if she had truly turned into mud.
*
“That’s the smell of Dead Ginger flowers,” Yu Fengyun said. “When fishing at sea, carrying Dead Ginger juice can repel dragon whales. They’re naturally afraid of the scent.”
Yun Zhao: “Oh—”
Yu Fengyun’s expression was complicated: “So, where do you plan to investigate next?”
“The crew,” Yun Zhao said, her confidence soaring after their initial success. “There’s no such thing as invisible evil spirits. Aunt Wen must have bribed them!”
She shot him a look, daring him to argue—she was biased, and she was convinced the Wen mother and daughter were up to no good, so what?
Yu Fengyun shook his head: “Impossible.”
Before Yun Zhao could scoff, he continued, “Take Boss Chen, for example. Sister-in-law Qiu must have told you that Uncle Wen had a first wife, who was Boss Chen’s younger sister. They were very close.”
“Oh?”
“After his sister died, Boss Chen fought with Uncle Wen several times and harbored a deep grudge against Aunt Wen. There’s no way he’d lie for her.”
Yun Zhao was puzzled: “Then why is Boss Chen working on Wen Changkong’s whaling ship?”
Yu Fengyun lowered his gaze, a bitter smile on his face: “The sea fish tax gets heavier every year. What they catch isn’t enough to cover it. To feed their families, they have no choice but to hunt dragon whales and offer their bones as tribute.”
Increasing taxes was forcing the fishermen to hunt whales.
Wen Changkong was the most skilled whaler, but the job was dangerous, and many crew members had died. He was short on hands, and Boss Chen needed to survive, so they “put aside their differences.”
Yun Zhao blurted out: “To build the Sky-Reaching Tower, they’re ignoring the lives of the people!”
She had noticed earlier that the households they visited were all struggling, barely scraping by. One family even had to borrow a knife from their neighbor to cook.
Yu Fengyun’s eyes flickered, and he warned in a low voice: “Be careful. The Sky-Reaching Tower is a matter of national importance…”
Yun Zhao sneered: “I don’t need you to remind me.”
Of course she knew.
Once the Sky-Reaching Tower was completed, it would reconnect the severed heavens and earth, restoring spiritual energy and allowing humans to cultivate immortality again.
Who in this world didn’t aspire to become a god?
But three thousand years had passed, and the Sky-Reaching Tower had already surpassed the height of the ancient Mount Buzhou, yet there was still no sign of the heavens and earth being reconnected.
“We’re here,” Yu Fengyun said, half-joking, half-serious. “Since you’re so concerned about the nation and its people, why not pray to the Supreme Being and wish for the Sky-Reaching Tower to be completed soon?”
Yun Zhao burst out laughing.
She hadn’t forgotten the inauspicious incense she’d lit before setting out on the voyage.
“The Supreme Being is very responsive,” she said with a mischievous grin.
Yu Fengyun didn’t understand the meaning behind her expression and nodded: “After all, he’s a true god of the mortal realm.”
Yun Zhao shrugged, about to make a blasphemous comment, but when she looked up, the Supreme Being’s temple was right in front of her.
So she kept it to herself, thinking: What a wooden god.
The temple was magnificent.
A black plaque with golden characters read “Supreme Being’s Temple.” The structure was built from massive ebony logs, with a golden roof and jade windows. Inside and out, it was adorned with colorful prayer banners, their symbols painted with animal blood and cinnabar. When the banners moved, they left behind mysterious traces.
Even at night, everything was clearly visible.
They ascended the steps and stepped over the knee-high threshold.
The temple’s curtains were woven with gold and silver threads, and the air was thick with incense smoke, undisturbed by the wind.
This was Yun Zhao’s first time entering the Supreme Being’s Temple since she could remember—likely because the family’s previous visit had left such a deep impression that no one dared to bring her again, fearing it would be sacrilegious.
Inside the temple, the guards walked softly, and Yu Fengyun spoke in a hushed tone: “The witnesses to the tragedy were too traumatized to find peace. Only in the Supreme Being’s Temple, where no evil can enter, can they sleep soundly. It’s pitiful.”
Yun Zhao waved her hand: “Don’t worry, I won’t intimidate them.”
She had already spotted them.
Honest fishermen, lying on straw mats with thin blankets, leaning against the walls and pillars.
The wall lamps illuminated their faces, deeply lined from years of hardship.
They slept fitfully, their brows furrowed, but whenever the temple’s spirit bells rang, their expressions softened slightly, as if comforted.
Yun Zhao looked around.
A guard moved to wake them for questioning, but she stopped him with a gesture.
Her father always slept like this when he came home—frowning, preoccupied with matters at the front lines, as if he could jump up at any moment.
No matter how much calming incense her mother burned, he never slept peacefully. Only when Yun Zhao and her mother chatted and laughed nearby did he seem to relax a little.
The incense in the Supreme Being’s Temple was just as overpowering.
Yun Zhao realized it had been a long time since she’d seen her father.
She glanced over and saw Yu Fengyun praying to the Supreme Being. He had somehow produced three sticks of incense, bowed nine times, and placed them in the incense burner before the shrine.
The candlelight was dim, casting a soft glow on the side profile of the person before her. His face was strikingly handsome, his eyes reflecting a faint golden light.
"Tsk," Yun Zhao sighed with regret once again. "What a waste of such a beautiful face."
In terms of looks, this man was even more handsome than Yan Nantian.
Yet, there was a cold and somewhat naive air about him, which diminished his overall charm.
Yun Zhao, as always, spoke without restraint: "You are the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Back then, I was drawn to Yan Nantian because of his face."
Before she could finish her sentence, a blinding flash of lightning pierced through the window of the hall.
"Whoosh—"
For a brief moment, the statue of the Supreme Deity on the altar was illuminated.
As the light faded like a fleeting blossom, Yun Zhao's eyes widened in awe.
"Wow…"
What kind of face had she just seen?
It was as if carved from ice and jade, perfect and filled with compassion.
Because it had disappeared so quickly, it sent shivers down her spine, like an electric current running through her.
This was far more breathtaking than Yu Fengyun.
In that brief moment, the difference between a god and a human was starkly clear.
Yun Zhao, who had always been irreverent and fearless, felt a surge of audacity. She lifted her skirt and leaped onto the altar.
Yu Fengyun: "Hey—"
"Thud."
Yun Zhao stepped onto the incense-laden pedestal, casually pushed aside a hanging curtain, and fixed her gaze on that pale, frost-like face: "I've come to fulfill my vow, Supreme Deity…"
Before she could finish, thunder and lightning erupted before her eyes.
The face she had barely glimpsed vanished into the storm.
Yu Fengyun's voice echoed from afar: "Do not blaspheme the gods—"
"Crash…"
A terrifying downpour lashed against the ship's mast, the sound of the waves like rolling thunder.
Yun Zhao's clothes were soaked, her hands and feet icy cold, her body swaying uncontrollably.
"Boom!"
Thick bolts of lightning, as wide as buckets, split the sky one after another. In the brief flashes of light, she saw dark, towering peaks all around—though they weren't mountains, but waves.
The massive whaling ship rose and fell in the storm, her heart sinking with it.
Yun Zhao saw one person after another, drenched and clinging to ropes or the ship's sides, their eyes filled with terror as they stared in the same direction.
The roar of the waves, the thunder, the pounding rain, and the creaking of the ship crushed the fragile bodies of everyone on board.
No one could utter a sound.
Yun Zhao followed their gazes.
The rain lashed against her face, stinging her eyelids. She struggled to steady herself, squinting through the curtain of rain.
There, she saw a figure impaled by a massive whaling harpoon, suspended at the bow of the ship.
Even amidst the overwhelming cacophony of the storm, she could still hear the chilling, subtle sounds.
"Thud, thud, thud, thud…"
With each sound, horrifying wounds appeared on his body, as if he were being flayed alive.
This was the scene of Wen Changkong's death.
