Chapter 81: This is the Luoyang Imperial Villa
“Where is this?”
Wei Wanlan felt a sudden sense of weightlessness as his body lifted off the ground.
Then, he was gently set down from the roof beam, his feet landing firmly on the floor. It was only then that Wei Wanlan realized the question had come from Fu Jun, who now released his hold.
Wei Wanlan curled his fingers into his palm.
He always felt so childish next to this man, who seemed so profound and inscrutable. Now that Fu Jun had actually asked a question, Wei Wanlan’s voice quickened as he rushed to answer, a tiny note of pride in his tone.
“This is the Luoyang Imperial Villa,” Wei Wanlan said.
He made his statement clearer, his voice echoing in the quiet study.
Every word was perfectly distinct.
“This is the Luoyang Imperial Villa. Yuan Xizai used the authority of his position to commandeer this old imperial residence, turning it into his personal playground and a place to stash his stolen goods.”
“No official has ever been able to track down Yuan Xizai’s dirty money, not just because he bribed officials at every level long ago.”
“But more importantly, no one ever imagined that the Luoyang Prefect’s Mansion would lead here, and no one would ever dare to enter and search this place without authorization.”
The very idea was audacious beyond belief.
A few fingers suddenly gripped the edge of the desk, and Xiao Ji’s face emerged from the darkness. He crawled out from under the table, looking utterly stunned and panting heavily.
“Young Master, you truly have an incredible imagination.”
A small smile played on Wei Wanlan’s lips.
But Fu Jun pressed on with another question. “It didn’t take long to get here from the Luoyang Prefect’s Mansion. Much shorter than the estimated time it would take to travel from the Imperial Villa to the mansion.”
“Well, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line,” Wei Wanlan blurted out. It was elementary school math, something he remembered well. “When digging underground, as long as you avoid water sources, you can create a direct path between two locations…”
“Two points? A straight line?”
The moment he said it, Xiao Ji mulled it over. His eyes lit up, and he nodded repeatedly.
Seeming to grasp the general meaning of a ‘straight line,’ Xiao Ji felt the young emperor had produced yet another stroke of genius.
“The Young Master is brilliant! Truly brilliant!”
Only then did Fu Jun add in a low voice, “It is rumored that when the late emperor was alive, he did indeed build many imperial villas across the land.”
Certain oddities that had been puzzling before now made perfect sense.
Why did the maids and eunuchs here look older, with fine lines around their mouths and at their temples?
Why was the bearing of the guards here so different from the Jinwu Imperial Guard, even though they were both garrison troops?
Why did the patrol guards’ faces carry a sense of weariness?
Because this wasn’t the real imperial palace.
It was a copy of the court in Chang’an—the Luoyang Imperial Villa.
But if this place truly was a replica of the imperial palace, then Wei Wanlan was very familiar with one particular spot, just as he was with Zichen Hall.
Wei Wanlan said to the other two, “The Zichen Hall here might also have a private treasury.”
A private treasury was the Son of Heaven’s personal storehouse.
The Regent had once told Wei Wanlan where the key to the treasury was, even letting him go count his own pocket money. Thanks to that, Wei Wanlan remembered the location of the private treasury with perfect clarity.
The basic structures of the two palaces were identical.
If Yuan Xizai was using this fake Zichen Hall, he would probably use its silver vault. The vault was close to the main hall, allowing him to keep watch over his treasure.
And the large sums of money recorded in that ledger were hidden right there.
There was a lot of money not far from here!
Wei Wanlan’s doe-like eyes sparkled.
To make his theory sound more plausible, and not wanting to reveal his identity as the emperor, he attributed his knowledge to a book.
“Uh, actually, I saw it in a rare book from my family’s collection… It said that in a grand palace of this scale, the various chambers can’t possibly fill all the space. Some corners are bound to be empty—perfect for storing things. So, you two follow me in a bit.”
He was still fixated on the idea of running Yuan Xizai through with a sword.
Wei Wanlan gnashed his pearly-white teeth.
“If we can find Yuan Xizai’s treasure, Fu Jun, you can consider it robbing the rich to help the poor. All of it can go to your Jianghu sect. And you can have the head of that corrupt dog, too.”
Fu Jun didn’t answer. He simply turned and picked up his sword.
The three of them left the study.
Under the shroud of night, the Luoyang Imperial Villa was veiled in a faint, orange-tinged mist.
Without lanterns, Fu Jun once again led the way, with Wei Wanlan giving directions. Wei Wanlan tugged lightly on Fu Jun’s sleeve, guiding him toward the private treasury of ‘Zichen Hall.’
The journey inadvertently gave them a thorough tour of the villa’s ‘Zichen Hall.’
The corridors that Wei Wanlan usually walked through were clean and spacious in the Chang’an palace, but here they were lined with hanging white banners. From a distance, they looked eerie, like fluttering funeral shrouds. Up close, however, he could see they were covered in characters written in the Slender Gold style with gold lacquer.
The night wind swept through, making them dance like flowing sashes, a truly spectacular sight.
“A bright moon shines between the pines; a clear spring flows over the stones.”
“The seven strings of the zither hum; in silence, I listen to the soughing of the pines.”
“At dawn I see the rain-kissed reds; the flowers in Jin Guan City are heavy with dew.”
“…”
Fu Jun pushed aside the layers of white cloth in front of them.
Thanks to him, Wei Wanlan wasn’t repeatedly smacked in the face by the banners.
Having someone clear the path had its perks. Wei Wanlan allowed his attention to drift to the characters. But suddenly, a sharp thump sounded from ahead, and Fu Jun stopped dead in his tracks.
Wei Wanlan, caught off guard, slammed face-first into Fu Jun’s back. His little nose stung, and he let out a small, aggrieved whimper.
“Oof, what was that sound?”
“Nothing. Keep moving.”
Of course, he wouldn’t dare disobey the great hero. Wei Wanlan obediently nodded, his back still to Fu Jun. It couldn’t possibly have been the hero bumping his head on a pillar behind the cloth banner. A martial artist like him has eyes in the back of his head. Not being able to see the path wasn’t his style.
At the end of the corridor was a small door.
The door was made of the most ordinary wood.
Its surface had been hastily coated with a clear lacquer, just enough to prevent splinters. But perhaps with the passage of time, the lacquer had begun to peel unevenly, leaving the door looking patchy and dark in places. It was anything but grand or eye-catching.
Normally, no one would ever deliberately wander over here.
But Wei Wanlan stopped.
His little ‘dragon claws’ pointed at the door as he told the others, “This should be the private treasury.”
Are you sure it’s not a supply closet?
Xiao Ji leaned back slightly, though of course, he didn’t dare ask.
But his expression asked for him. His handsome features were fixed on the wooden door, sizing it up and down as if he couldn’t believe that both the Chang’an court and the Luoyang villa could simultaneously possess such an unremarkable place. “Uh…”
Wei Wanlan rubbed his ‘dragon claws’ together. The strongman hasn’t seen what’s inside, he thought.
Although this door was small and narrow, it was a gateway to another world. Located at the edge of the main hall, its ceiling was slanted, but the space was incredibly high, filled with rows of specially made shelves.
In Chang’an, his personal pocket-money warehouse held shelves laden with trays of official silver ingots and tribute items sent to Zichen Hall (after being inspected by the Regent).
The dazzling treasures and staggering amount of silver were a sight to behold.
Though he couldn’t be called fabulously wealthy, Wei Wanlan felt a surge of confidence just thinking about it.
He wondered how much money Yuan Xizai had hidden away in his private treasury.
Since his underling dared to mock me, Wei Wanlan thought, he must be much richer than I am.
His tender little ‘dragon claws’ gently pressed against the door of the ‘Zichen Hall’ treasury. A sound came from the door, the wood groaning as if it were about to fall apart.
Wei Wanlan tilted his head. The bronze lock on the door was suddenly wrenched apart by Fu Jun’s right hand. With a crisp metallic snap, the bronze wires broke.
The hero was dismantling it with his bare hands.
Wei Wanlan’s doe-like eyes widened. He was once again reminded of the hero’s terrifying strength. Could this be the legendary internal energy?
He watched as Fu Jun pulled the wooden door open.
Crash.
The wood and broken bronze lock pieces clattered loudly.
There was something else inside the door!
Wei Wanlan’s gaze jumped, and he cried out.
“Hey? This is—”
There was another door behind the door.
Behind the wooden door was a stone one. The wooden door was old and unassuming; the stone door was thick and solid.
Just by curling a knuckle and tapping on the stone slab, the faint, hollow sound was enough to tell how sturdy the material was. The wooden door outside was deliberately made to be inconspicuous, while this stone slab was the real defense against thieves.
It was a testament to Yuan Xizai’s paranoia.
The stone door had a heavy lock. Wei Wanlan glanced down at it, his eyes tightening. The lock was huge and looked incredibly heavy.
He lifted it with his slender ‘dragon claws’ and immediately felt its icy chill. Even on a spring night that was no longer cold, the lock sent a shiver through him.
This lock was like an impregnable fortress, a block of ice that would never melt.
“A hundred-refined steel lock,” Xiao Ji said. “This is the strongest kind of lock. Its material is forged using the same steel-making methods as military weaponry. If a thief wanted to open it, they’d have to melt it down. Brute force would be completely useless.”
His words seemed to carry a hidden meaning.
It made Wei Wanlan sigh in despair as he looked at the lock.
Fu Jun, however, let out a cold sneer. He swiftly drew his Flowing Water Sword. The blade glinted under the moonlight, reflecting Fu Jun’s sharp, handsome features. He held the sword horizontally, its edge grazing past Xiao Ji’s throat, lightly brushing his Adam’s apple. Xiao Ji’s throat bobbed.
His voice finally trembled, dry and hoarse. “What are you trying to do?”
Fu Jun glanced at the hundred-refined steel lock, the tip of his sword pointing at the door. “Must we open the lock to get through this door?”
Huh? Can you get through without opening the lock?
That’s just too fantastical, Wei Wanlan thought.
After all, he knew this was a political intrigue novel. 404 had told him there were no supernatural elements, no wuxia fantasy, and certainly no steampunk.
Surely Fu Jun wasn’t planning to carve a hole in the wall to let them in?
And yet.
A flash of the sword came down—
With a loud thud, the entire hundred-refined steel lock fell to the ground.
Wei Wanlan quickly took several steps back, hopping nervously like a little sparrow searching for food in the courtyard of Zichen Hall. His eyes, however, never left the stone door.
He realized that Fu Jun’s strike hadn’t damaged the lock itself. Instead, he had severed the connection between the lock and the stone door—a thick iron ring embedded in the stone. Despite the ring’s thickness, the razor-sharp Flowing Water Sword had sliced through it cleanly, leaving a perfectly smooth cut.
Fu Jun sheathed his sword.
Xiao Ji finally allowed himself to breathe again.
Fu Jun now pressed his large hand against the stone door. With a great exertion of force, he slid the door to the left. The bottom of the stone scraped against the ground with a low hum that resonated deep in their skulls.
Curious to see Yuan Xizai’s treasure, Wei Wanlan was the first to step across the threshold.
Once inside the warehouse, the first thing he saw was a faint, greenish light pulsing softly. The light emanated from the four walls of the warehouse, illuminating a square platform several feet wide.
Wei Wanlan shifted his gaze to the platform. His eyes narrowed, and he drew in a sharp, quiet breath, his eyebrows shooting up.
“Hiss.”
He heard Xiao Ji ask from outside.
“Young Master, what’s inside? A lot of silver?”
“No, inside there’s…” Wei Wanlan murmured.
“What is it?”
“I… can’t quite describe it.”
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