Yan Qingshu, the youngest Shaoqing of Dali Temple, was suffering from illness and fractured bones, and was as alienated as frost.
The world only knows that he is the sharpest blade in the emperor's hand, cutting away the filth in the court. Little did he know that this sick body was his most sophisticated disguise, and this "alienation" was his most patient trap.
What he wants to investigate is the heinous old case twenty years ago that shattered the previous dynasty and stained the current throne with blood.
Pei Suzhou, Marquis Jingyuan, a legacy of the previous dynasty, a chess player in the dark night. He calculated all the people's hearts and took the world as his tactic, vowing to overthrow this stolen country.
He thought Yan Qingshu was a cold and dazzling chess piece on his chessboard, the perfect knife he could use to stir up the dead water and stab his enemies.
So, he personally brought Yan Qingshu into the situation, watching him take risks, watching him struggle, and watching him in the dragnet he set, pale and forbearing, but always straightening his spine that refused to break.
Until the night of the palace change, the sky was filled with blood and fire.
Pei Suzhou finally forced the seriously injured Yan Qingshu to the corner. His fingertips were stained with blood, and he touched the opponent's fragile neck. He said in a hoarse voice with a smile: "Yan Huaijin, you lose this game."
The person he imprisoned raised his eyes, his eyes reflected the light of the sky and his own out-of-control reflection, and suddenly smiled very softly.
"Really?"
Yan Qingshu coughed up blood, his breath was weak, but each word sounded like thunder in Pei Suzhou's ears:
"Then do you know when I saw through the three hidden stakes you planted around me, and how... I turned them into sharp arrows aimed at your political enemies?"
"Did you know that the Jiangnan Salt Tax Account Book, which you regard as your arm, is currently lying on the Dragon Case in the Imperial Study Room, and the person who delivers the account... Is me?"
"Pei Suzhou, my Lord Marquis."
He raised his head slightly, and his cold lips almost brushed against Pei Suzhou's ear. His breath was hot, with blood and a hint of success:
"You see clearly——"
"Who is it, and whose hook is it fishing for?"
At that moment, Pei Suzhou felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave and was burned by fire.
Only then did he realize that all his self-righteous control and all his carefully planned "captures" had long been invisible to the other party's cold and distant gaze. He thought he was closing the net, but in fact he was the fish that was lured into the net by the perfect bait and was struggling and sinking without knowing it.
It turns out that the best hunters often come as prey.
And he was willing to bite the hook that was quenched with honey and poison until he died.
Intention: The real strategy is to use your body as a chess piece, invite you to join the game, and bet your sincerity.