DLERB -Chapter 8 The Net of Heaven Moves?

The sky had not yet fully brightened.

Xianyang City still lay buried beneath a gray and silent dawn.

Boom!

A thunderous crash shattered the quiet of a luxurious mansion in the southern district.

The vermilion front gates were kicked open by brute force, splinters flying everywhere.

“The Jinyiwei are conducting official business! All bystanders, stand aside!”

A cold voice rang out.

Dozens of black-clad figures surged inside like a tidal wave.

Before the household guards and servants could react, they were kicked to the ground, gleaming embroidered spring blades pressed against their throats.

“Ah! Who are you people?!”

“How dare you! Do you know whose estate this is? This is Lord Grand Coachman’s residence!”

A steward shrieked fiercely, though inwardly terrified.

The answer he received was a cold scabbard strike.

Bang!

The steward was smashed to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth.

The Jinyiwei charged directly into the inner courtyard.

Inside the bedroom, Grand Coachman Ying Zong was still sleeping soundly with a beautiful concubine in his arms.

The loud commotion jolted him awake.

He had barely sat up when the door was kicked open.

“You… what are you trying to do?! I am a member of the Ying royal clan!”

The leading Jinyiwei unfolded a portrait scroll and compared it to the terrified face on the bed.

“Take him away.”

Two Jinyiwei stepped forward and dragged the Grand Coachman from the bed in nothing but his undergarments.

“Let go of me! I’m imperial royalty! You traitorous dogs!”

“AAAHH—!”

A crisp crack of breaking bone sounded.

Ying Zong’s arm was violently twisted behind his back.

His scream tore through the dawn of Xianyang.

At the same time—

East city. West city. North city.

The exact same scene unfolded at dozens of officials’ mansions.

There were no imperial edicts.

No warrants from the Court of Justice.

Only the embroidered spring blades of the Jinyiwei and the lists brought out from Qilin Hall.

Before sunrise, the entire political world of Xianyang had been detonated by this sudden bloody purge.

Crying.

Begging.

Cursing.

The sounds rose and fell without end.

Xianyang had descended into chaos.

At the Chancellor’s Residence—

Li Si had not slept all night.

He sat lifelessly in his study, watching the sky outside slowly change from black to white.

Everything that happened in Qilin Hall felt like a nightmare.

An old servant stumbled into the room in panic.

“Chancellor! Disaster! The city… the city is arresting people everywhere!”

“The Jinyiwei! Those same Jinyiwei from yesterday! They dragged away Lord Grand Coachman, Lord Lesser Treasury Supervisor… all of them from their homes!”

The teacup in Li Si’s hand slipped to the floor.

It did not shatter.

Because he no longer had any strength left in his fingers.

It had come.

As expected, it had finally come.

That little ancestor’s methods were even faster and more ruthless than he had imagined.

“Chancellor!”

An armored guard strode into the study and saluted Li Si with clasped fists.

“The Ninth Young Master requests your presence.”

Li Si’s body trembled.

His voice was hoarse.

“Where… is the Young Master?”

“Xianyang Grand Prison.”

Dark.

Damp.

The air reeked of blood and decay.

Xianyang Grand Prison — one of the most feared places in all of Great Qin.

But now, it had changed masters.

The original jailers had all been driven out. Standing throughout the corridors were Jinyiwei clad in flying-fish uniforms.

As Li Si walked among them, his hands and feet turned ice-cold.

Inside each prison cell were familiar faces — officials who had stood beside him in court only yesterday.

Grand Coachman Ying Zong sat disheveled, one arm hanging limply.

Supervisor Liu of the Lesser Treasury was covered in blood, curled up trembling in a corner.

There were many others too, officials Li Si knew and others he did not.

Every one of them was wounded and despairing.

Bloodied flesh still hung from the torture instruments.

Li Si dared not look too closely.

Lowering his head, he hurried toward the deepest part of the prison.

This area had already been cleaned spotless.

Thick Persian carpets covered the ground, and incense burned to dispel the dampness.

Ying Ziye sat upon a large grand chair, his little feet swinging back and forth.

On the table before him sat delicate pastries and sweet honey water.

Hearing footsteps, he raised his head and revealed an innocent smile toward Li Si.

“Chancellor, you’ve arrived.”

“This old minister… greets Your Highness.”

Li Si bowed deeply, not daring to raise his head.

Ying Ziye picked up a piece of osmanthus cake and took a bite.

“Chancellor, no need for such formalities.”

He pointed toward the prison cells around them.

“I had them clean this place up a bit. Doesn’t it look much tidier now?”

Li Si’s throat felt dry.

“Y-Yes… much tidier.”

Satisfied, Ying Ziye nodded.

He picked up a bamboo scroll from the table and casually tossed it at Li Si’s feet.

The scroll rolled open, revealing names written one after another in vermilion ink.

Most of the names already had a bright red cross marked beside them.

“As Chancellor, you know the officials of Xianyang better than anyone.”

Ying Ziye took another bite of osmanthus cake and spoke vaguely through the mouthful.

“Help me take a look.”

“See if there are any fish that slipped through the net.”

Li Si froze in place.

Slowly, he bent down and picked up the bamboo slip that still carried the faint scent of blood.

Every name on it had once been a colleague he knew.

Every red cross represented the destruction of an entire family.

And now, this little ancestor was asking him to perform the final “inspection.”

He was forcing him to personally hand over the butcher’s knife.

Cold sweat instantly soaked Li Si’s back.

He knew he no longer had a choice.

From the moment he knelt and drafted the decree, he had already boarded the ship.

“Qinglong greets Your Highness.”

The Jinyiwei commander appeared soundlessly behind Ying Ziye and dropped to one knee.

Without even turning around, Ying Ziye replied:

“Speak.”

“Reporting to Your Highness: Zhang Cheng, registrar of the Southern City Patrol Office; Li Quan, armory supervisor of the Western District; and Sun Miao, warehouse clerk of the Northern District… were discovered dead in their homes a quarter-hour ago.”

Ying Ziye paused mid-bite.

Li Si’s grip on the bamboo scroll tightened sharply.

He remembered those three.

Insignificant minor officials.

But during yesterday’s court session in Qilin Hall, they had been among the very few who neither knelt alongside the Confucian scholars nor opposed Ying Ziye. Some had even spoken in support of him.

Qinglong continued emotionlessly.

“All three died the same way. A sharp weapon pierced one inch into the center of the back, killing them instantly.”

“There were no signs of struggle. Doors and windows remained intact.”

“It was the work of a top-tier assassin.”

Only then did Ying Ziye slowly set down the osmanthus cake.

He wiped his greasy little hands with a cloth, then dabbed the corner of his mouth.

Only after that did he leisurely speak.

His voice was calm, yet both Qinglong and Li Si trembled upon hearing it.

“Luowang. Heaven-ranked assassins.”

Ying Ziye spoke indifferently.

“They always work cleanly. Beneath the victim’s pillow, they leave a single phoenix tree leaf as their mark.”

“Am I right?”

Qinglong suddenly raised his head, shock appearing on his face for the first time.

When examining the corpses, he really had discovered a dried phoenix tree leaf beneath each victim’s pillow!

This was highly confidential information.

He had not reported it to anyone yet!

How did the Ninth Young Master know?!

Meanwhile, Li Si felt a chill rise straight up his spine.

Luowang!

That legendary assassin organization said to serve the Director of the Palace Carriages — a network spread across the realm, infiltrating everywhere!

They had made their move!

…

At Zhao Manor—

Incense smoke curled gently through the study.

Zhao Cheng sat with his eyes closed, enjoying massages from two beautiful maidservants.

A black-clad figure appeared like a ghost and knelt on one knee.

“Master, the matter has been handled.”

Zhao Cheng did not even open his eyes.

“What reaction did that little bastard have?”

“The Jinyiwei sealed off the crime scenes and have begun searching throughout the city. As for the Ninth Young Master… he locked himself inside Xianyang Grand Prison and hasn’t come out.”

Zhao Cheng’s lips spread into a grin, revealing white teeth and a cruel smile.

“Hahahaha!”

“So he’s just a child who’s never truly seen bloodshed before. Kill a few people and he gets so frightened he hides in prison?”

Opening his eyes, his gaze turned vicious.

“Did he really think this was just playing house in the palace with eunuchs?”

“This is Luowang!”

Kicking away the maid beside him, Zhao Cheng rose to his feet.

“Increase the pressure!”

“Anyone who didn’t kneel yesterday — anyone who dares say even half a good word about him — kill them all one by one!”

“I want to see just how many people his three thousand Jinyiwei can protect!”

The black-clad figure hesitated slightly.

“Master, if the disturbance becomes too great, it may attract the military…”

“What are you afraid of?!”

Zhao Cheng slapped the man across the face.

“Spread the rumors!”

“Tell everyone that the eight-year-old tyrant is purging dissidents and slaughtering innocents to consolidate his power!”

“I want his reputation completely ruined!”

“I want everyone in Xianyang living in fear, cursing him as the ruler who will destroy the nation!”

The black-clad man lowered his head.

“As you command.”