Quick Travel to the Clouds

Chapter 657 Fame Spreads Throughout the World 5

In the east wing of the main courtyard: In her dream, Madam Wang suddenly fell into a cold pool. A drowned fisherwoman rose from the bottom of the water, her withered hand wrapping around her ankle. Her resentful whispers spread with the ripples: "Twenty taels of silver... you took my father's fishing boat to pay off the debt... give me back my life!" Madam Wang gasped and curled up in shock, her brocade quilt soaked with cold sweat.

In the study of the secluded courtyard: The纨绔公子 trembled violently. The singing girl he had abducted during the day suddenly transformed into a vengeful ghost, her ten fingers like hooks reaching for his heart. Blood splattered onto the poems on the desk: "Prefect's son? Bah! Wealth paved with bones!" A shrill scream was suppressed in his throat, leaving only spasms in his limbs.

In the warm pavilion of the west courtyard: An elderly aunt, living alone, is trapped in a fire. The farmhouse that was set on fire years ago in a fight for land is still engulfed in flames. The charred, wronged spirit clings to the window frame, and the burned finger bones leave marks on the gauze curtain: "A forged contract... thirty acres of fertile land... the injustice in the ashes!"

Every courtyard, every bed, dreams become purgatory.

At three-quarters past midnight, Yun Chu's figure slid like a ghost onto the beam of Wang Tongpan's bedroom.

The person on the bed was snoring loudly, their large body wrapped in a brocade quilt.

Psychic abilities silently probe into the muddy lake of the heart.

In an instant, countless images exploded—the screams of forced confessions in the torture chamber, the thick stack of indentures in the secret compartment of the storeroom, the newly buried remains of righteous men in the mass graves on the outskirts of the city, and the secret accounts of private treasuries marked in red ink on the ledgers: five thousand taels of gold, one hundred thousand taels of silver, forty boxes of pearls, jade and calligraphy and paintings... all obtained through exorbitant taxes, false accusations and confiscation of property.

The overwhelming sins coiled around my heart like poisonous vines.

Yun Chu's brows remained unmoved, only her fingertips lightly tapped in the air.

An invisible spiritual needle pierced into Judge Wang's Baihui acupoint.

The wronged souls within his sea of ​​consciousness suddenly solidified and rushed towards the turbid blood surging from the top of his head!

The corrupt official suddenly twitched in his sleep, his mouth and eyes became crooked, and saliva flowed freely—the Yangwei meridian was reversed, and the Foot Taiyang meridian suddenly collapsed!

The stroke is a done deal; I am destined to be unable to speak or move for the rest of my life.

Without giving the person slumped on the bed a second glance, she followed her memory of the account books and slipped into the secret room of the study.

The hidden compartments and mechanisms have nowhere to hide under the detection of supernatural abilities.

Pushing aside a hidden wall, the private vault was suddenly revealed: stacks of official silver ingots piled up like small hills, gold bars gleamed dimly in nanmu boxes, jade screens reflected the faint glow of luminous pearls, and the seals of famous calligraphers on scrolls looked as if they were stained with blood and tears.

Yun Chu's eyes were like a still, cold pool. The space slowly unfolded, and gold, silver, pearls, and jade flowed into the abyss like water, filling the illusory world within her sleeve, leaving only a desolate dust on the ground.

As he turned to leave, the old plaque inscribed with "A Bright Mirror Hangs High" that had been hanging on the beam fell to the dust with a thud.

An owl cried mournfully as it flew over the Prince's Palace.

Yun Chu returned under the moonlight, her clothes untouched by a speck of dust.

The darkness before dawn is the thickest, yet the roars from the Prince's Palace have already pierced the curfew.

When the maid kicked open the bedroom door, she was horrified to see Magistrate Wang's saliva soaking through his Suzhou-embroidered pillow, his limbs curled and convulsing like a boiled shrimp. "Master has had a stroke! Quickly, fetch the imperial physician!" The scream shattered the dawn. Meanwhile—

East Wing: Madam Wang, in a frenzy, tore at her undergarments and wailed at the empty carved bedpost, "Water ghost, come claiming my life!"

In the secluded courtyard: The young master, barefoot, ran wildly, knocking over a bronze lamp stand. As sparks ignited the gauze curtains, he still pointed at the void and roared, "Don't rip out my heart! I'll give you back your whole corpse!"

Accountant: More than ten stewards crowded in front of the secret vault door, staring at the empty chamber that resembled the belly of a giant beast, their faces ashen.

Suddenly, a certain clerk lunged at the ashes in the corner, frantically rummaging through the paper dust: "The account books! The account books for reconciling the salt permits!"

When the first rays of sunlight touched the broken plaque that read "A Bright Mirror Hangs High," the entire palace had already become an anthill soaked in boiling oil.

The servants fled over the wall with their valuables, the concubines wrestled and fought over the makeup box, and the steward fainted on the ground holding a gift list with three pages missing—it clearly recorded the "ice tribute" and "charcoal tribute" sent to various prefectures in the capital over the past three years.

Wuzhou City was suddenly blessed with unexpected wealth:

West Market Fish Stall: An old fisherman, whose fishing boat had been forcibly seized, trembled as he lifted a wooden basin. Thirty gold beads gleamed brightly amidst the pile of pickled fish. Tiny engravings, left by ants crawling from the bottom of the basin, read: "Twenty-year boat rental interest."

In the thatched hut of South Alley: An ailing embroiderer rises early to brew medicine, when she suddenly hears the clinking of a ceramic urn. At the bottom of the urn lie five ingots of official silver, and ants have etched a map on the urn's wall—pointing directly to the mass grave outside the city where her unjustly murdered husband is buried.

North Gate Congee Stall: The manager exclaimed in surprise that the rice jar was filled with new grain overnight. A thin silk cloth with an ant nest pattern was stuck to the bottom of the large pot for cooking congee, and the blood-brown characters meandered like snakes: "Corrupt official congee, in exchange for your clean congee."

Even more peculiar is the screen wall of the government office.

At daybreak, the entire blue brick wall was covered with writhing, fiery red ants, piecing together seven pieces of evidence of Wang Tongpan's embezzlement of river works funds, salt tax loopholes, and false reports of bandit suppression.

The soldiers' swords and water could not harm the ants in the slightest. It was only when the crowd of onlookers gathered in layers upon layers that the flying ants suddenly turned into blue smoke and disappeared, leaving only the cinnabar marks of their crimes deeply embedded in the brick cracks.

In the prefect's back hall, official kiln teacups cracked on the blue bricks.

"Investigate! Dig three feet into the ground for this prefecture!" Prefect Zhao stared at the newly appeared ebony box on his desk—twelve salt administration silver coins were neatly stacked inside, and the words burned by ants on the lid were glaring: "Next round is yours."

The magistrate silently stuffed the troop deployment token into his sleeve pocket, his gaze burning with fervor as he glanced at the commotion outside the window.

At the corner of the long street, Yun Chu put the last bag of broken silver into the blind beggar's ceramic bowl.

The flying ant slithered from her sleeve back to her wrist, transforming into a crimson-gold tattoo.

A clear, melodious female voice suddenly rang out from the alleyway: "I wondered why there had been such a miraculous sprinkling of wealth in Wuzhou these past few days." Su Ling leaned against a vermilion pillar, her bamboo hairpin gleaming coldly in the morning light. "Does the young lady know that the Wang family burned down three storerooms last night?"

Yun Chu's fingertips traced the slightly warm tattoo on her wrist. The Fire Iron Flying Ants were delivering the final message—a certain clerk was kneeling outside the prefect's gate, presenting a copy of a secret ledger recording the prefect's bribery.

"The warehouse was burned brilliantly." Yun Chu spread her sleeves in the wind, and the silver notes that had been transformed from the private treasury last night fluttered in her sleeves. "How about we name the first shipment of red goods that the escort agency is delivering today 'Nirvana Escort'?" Su Ling's hairpin tip suddenly flashed with a cold light as bright as a star.

In the shadow of the eaves, half a copper coin was gently tossed into Yun Chu's palm. The morning glow dyed the thick smoke from the direction of the Prince's Mansion into a magnificent purple mist, which churned and surged, resembling a ferocious beast that had been fed gold and silver and was now turning on its master.

That night, the Tongzhi's study was brightly lit with candles. The copy of the secret ledger presented by the clerk resonated fatally with Yun Chu's words, "You'll be next."

At midnight, the city defense battalion quietly changed its garrison, and twelve fast horses carried the provincial inspector's protégés straight to the provincial capital—the private salt ledgers, evidence of corruption in river works, and a list of intercepted "bandit suppression death" compensation money personally approved by the prefect were piled up like an iron mountain on the governor's desk.

Five days later, the prefect summoned the assistant prefect under the pretext of "verifying disaster relief grain." However, twenty axemen lay in ambush behind the screen in the courtroom. Just as the vermilion brush was about to fall, a post horse neighed and crashed through the prefectural gate, and the governor's personal guards raised their command arrows: "Remove Zhao's hat and escort him to trial!"

The prefect slumped to the ground, his official hat falling to the ground, when he caught a glimpse of the half-tally used for mobilizing troops flashing coldly in the sleeve of the assistant prefect.

Yun Chu has quietly left Wuzhou.

In front of the City God Temple in Wuzhou, a blind beggar who had received silver sang while striking a clapper: "Heavenly Maiden, sword cuts through the clouds, corrupt officials frequently seek souls in their dreams! Flying ants carry gold to repay blood debts, half a copper coin determines life and death!" The lyrics flowed into the Grand Canal with the caravan, and in March, the story of "Heavenly Maiden Punishing Corrupt Officials" was spread in teahouses all over Jiangnan.

The Su family's first mission to escort the "Nirvana Escort" was a resounding success. Hidden within the red cargo boxes was a secret: each box had a half-sheet of Wuzhou riverbed map carved out by ants at the bottom. Upon opening the boxes, the recipient exclaimed in surprise, "The riverbed is even marked with the truth behind past dam breaches!"—the name of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion was branded in the martial arts world for the first time.

The half of the "Yongle Tongbao" coin left behind by Yun Chu has appeared on the black market. When the salt smuggler died suddenly in the cabin, the other half of the copper coin was embedded in his throat, and the bloodstains at the joint formed small characters: "Child trafficker, skull made into a bowl".