Chapter 8 — The Heir to the Throne with the Wicked Face

Preemptive Strike in the Middle of the Night

From the pieces of information Trường Phong collected in the court, Nhược Hi discovered a remarkable clue: every year, on the occasion of tribute sent from the southern districts to the capital, there was always a large difference between the amount of silk and jewels recorded in official books and the actual amount delivered to the royal treasury. That difference, through many complicated layers of intermediaries, eventually flows to a private warehouse managed by Uất Nguyệt Hàn's people.

"This is not just ordinary embezzlement," Tang Dịch Phong said as he presented the collected numbers to Nhược Hi and Trường Phong. "This wealth is so great that it is enough to raise a private army. I suspect that the Queen Mother is secretly building her own armed forces, in case it is necessary to use force to force the court to accept the establishment of Khương Bạt Nghi as the new army."

Nhược Hi frowned, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. "If we expose this now, suspicion will fall on whoever discovered it, making it easy for Khưu Bá Trạch to track us down."

"So what do you intend to do, Your Highness?" Trường Phong asked.

"I will not expose it to the royal court." Nhược Hi smiled slightly, a cold smile that rarely appeared on her face. "I will strike directly at that wealth, leaving the Queen Mother to panic without knowing who the enemy is."

The next night, under Nhược Hi's direct command, a group from the Night Shadow Pavilion, all wearing black masks in the familiar style of the Ghost-Faced Witch, broke into a secret warehouse deep in an abandoned suburban market, where most of the illicit wealth the Queen Mother had accumulated over the years was stored.

The break-in happened quickly, almost without a sound. The soldiers guarding the warehouse, who did not expect anyone to dare touch the Queen Mother's property, were overpowered before they could send out an alarm signal. All the precious jewels and silk were transferred overnight. The Night Shadow Pavilion kept part of them for military expenses and secretly distributed the rest to poor families in the very districts where tribute had been siphoned off.

The next morning, when news of the secret warehouse break-in reached Uất Nguyệt Hàn's ears, she immediately summoned Khưu Bá Trạch to the palace, her voice shaking with anger and panic.

"Who dares to do this?" She slammed her hand on the table, her face pale with horror. "That warehouse was only known to a few of my closest confidants, but in just one night, it was all stolen!"

"The Queen Mother calm down." Khưu Bá Trạch's voice was low, even though his heart couldn't help but be shocked. "I will let someone investigate immediately. Are there any clues left at the scene?"

"A black scarf embroidered with a devil's face." Uất Nguyệt Hàn gritted her teeth, her voice full of indignation. "The surviving subordinates said that the intruders all carried the mark of the Demon Faced Witch."

Khưu Bá Trạch was stunned for a brief moment. That name has been silent for nearly three years since the Crown Princess was exiled, causing many people in the court to think that the notorious thief had died somewhere or had retired. Now suddenly reappearing, aiming straight at the Queen Mother's personal property, making him feel a vague premonition of insecurity.

"This guy..." He mused. "Three years ago, he was rumored to have assisted the Queen Mother in plotting to harm the First Emperor. If he reappears now and targets the Queen Mother, perhaps he knows something about the truth of the incident that night."

"What do you mean?" Uất Nguyệt Hàn frowned.

"I don't dare confirm anything yet." Khưu Bá Trạch shook his head, his long narrow eyes flashing with unprecedented vigilance. "But from now on, we need to be more cautious. I will have Cận Bá Tuyên intensify the investigation into the true whereabouts of the Ghost-Faced Witch, and at the same time review all survivors related to the night of the incident last year, in case someone is secretly bringing up the old story."

News that the Queen Mother's secret warehouse was robbed overnight quickly spread throughout the capital's mandarins, although no one dared to discuss it publicly for fear of being implicated. But in the darkness, an underground wave began to rise: if even the Queen Mother's property could be stolen right in the middle of the capital without anyone knowing, then the power of the ruling faction may not be as solid as it seems.

Families who had been robbed of tribute in the southern districts, when they received the wealth that was silently returned through the hands of Thông Bảo Trang's trading fleets, no one knew where that relief came from. They only told each other that there was a hidden virtuous person who was secretly demanding justice for the black people. The story of the Demon-Faced Witch, once only associated with crimes in the capital's memories, now begins to take on a different tone in the remote countryside - half as a legend, half as the fragile hope of the lowly.

Uất Nguyệt Hàn, after the initial anger, gradually turned into a state of extreme suspicion. She privately called the butler in charge of the secret warehouse into the palace and interrogated him for half the night, forcing him to recount every smallest detail about the night of the break-in, even though he himself was just a victim who was knocked unconscious from the first minutes. She began to doubt even the most trusted people next to her, thinking that there must have been an insider who revealed the location of the warehouse, because otherwise, no one would know about such a secretly guarded place.

"From now on, everything related to my private property, no one is allowed to know except me and you." She told Khưu Bá Trạch in a private meeting a few days later, her voice still shaking with anger and fear. "I don't want to go through such a terrible night again."

"Don't worry, Queen Mother, I will strengthen the defense more strictly," Khưu Bá Trạch replied, but in his heart a new concern began to arise, deeper than the loss of wealth: if the person behind this break-in was truly connected to the secrets of the night of the incident, then the plan to establish Khuong Bá Trạch as the new army needed to be accelerated even more, before any complications could arise.

At Thông Bảo Trang, Nhược Hi sat and listened to Trường Phong recount all the reactions of Uất Nguyệt Hàn and Khưu Bá Trạch through what he heard from the court, the corner of her lips slightly curled up in a calculating smile.

"So they started to panic," she spoke, her voice calm but containing a suppressed gloating.

"But Your Highness also needs to be more careful from now on," Trường Phong reminded her, his eyes worried. "Khưu Bá Trạch has ordered Cận Bá Tuyên to intensify the investigation into the true whereabouts of the Ghost-Faced Witch. If he finds any clues leading to Thông Bảo Trang or the Night Shadow Pavilion, all our efforts over the years could go down the drain."

"I know." Nhược Hi nodded, her eyes becoming serious. "From now on, every action of the Night Shadow Pavilion must be calculated more carefully, not only to attack the enemy, but also to never reveal the true traces behind this mask."

She stood up, walked to the wooden chest where the ghost mask was kept, gently caressed the black painted wood that had faded over the years. Three years ago, this mask was the last gift of a loyal servant who was willing to sacrifice everything to protect her. Now, it had become the most powerful weapon in the fight to regain justice, a symbol that made enemies tremble every time it was mentioned, even though no one knew the real face hidden behind it.

"This attack is just the beginning," she whispered, her eyes firmly looking towards the distant palace hidden behind the night mist. "There are many more attacks waiting for you, Khưu Bá Trạch, Uất Nguyệt Hàn. I will make you pay for every drop of blood that was spilled on Kim Loan Palace that night."

Trường Phong stood silently looking at her, both admiring and extremely worried. He knew clearly that each successful counterattack meant that the enemy would become more alert and more cruel. The road ahead, despite significant progress, still contains countless unpredictable dangers that both people will have to face together.

"No matter how dangerous it is," he said softly, as if reminding himself rather than reassuring her, "as long as we continue to walk together on this path, I believe that one day we will see the light of true justice shine down on Kim Loan Palace again."