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Gu Juhan frowned, no longer concerned with the change in her address, and simply took the papers she offered. After quickly scanning them, even he, who was accustomed to turbulent situations, couldn’t help but show a change in expression.
...It was an account book.
The edges bore signs of being torn from a complete ledger. However, instead of ordinary business transactions, it recorded instances of bribery among court officials.
Each entry was meticulously detailed, and despite only spanning two pages, the total amount reached nearly ten thousand. Among those implicated were prominent nobles, branches of the Zou family...
...and even members of the Gu family.
Gu Juting, Gu Jusheng...
Gu Juhan’s hand trembled slightly.
He looked at Shen Xiling, his expression now completely transformed—serious to the extreme, yet also somewhat fragmented.
He asked, “...What is this?”
Shen Xiling gazed at him calmly. Despite her frailty, she exuded an air of composure, as if she were a true master of the situation.
She replied quietly, “Since General has already seen it clearly, why ask me again?”
Gu Juhan stared at her intently, unintentionally crumpling the thin sheets of paper in his hand. “Xiling, what exactly are you planning?”
If these records of bribery were exposed, then...
In contrast to Gu Juhan’s distress, Shen Xiling appeared remarkably calm, even as if lost in some distant memory, speaking with ease.
Recalling some rather distant events, she said indifferently, “General must know about my past. I began small businesses around the age of twelve. Looking back, it seems somewhat amusing.”
Gu Juhan was startled by her sudden shift in topic, but he did know parts of her history. It was said that her initial venture was in textile manufacturing; the thriving cotton weaving business across Jiangnan and Jiangbei originated from her.
Her gaze grew distant, as if recalling more and more.
“Back then in Jiangzuo, doing business was difficult because every industry was controlled by guilds, which were backed by aristocratic families, leaving little room for others,” she narrated flatly. “At that time, I was rather naive. I could have relied on him, using his power to amass wealth, but I stubbornly wanted to depend on myself, refusing to seek his help no matter how hard it got. Perhaps he felt helpless too.”
When speaking of that person, her expression softened, as if comforted.
“People always pay a price for their youthful ignorance. But the price I paid back then was too heavy—it cost a life,” her tone dropped. “He was a manager working under me. Because I didn’t know how to navigate the system, he was killed by people from the guild. His family lost their livelihood. I remember his child was only eight years old, suddenly losing his father like that.”
Her expression still carried the pain from those days, revealing scars that remained deep within her heart. After a moment of silence, she regained her composure, demonstrating her current mental fortitude—she could control herself.
“From that moment, I finally understood how dirty power could be. It can easily kill a person or destroy a family,” she paused, her expression somber, then gradually became clear. “But it’s not entirely without merit. At least I learned that in the most dangerous and desperate times, the only thing one can rely on is power.”
“I don’t have power, but I have other things to trade for it,” she glanced at the two sheets in Gu Juhan’s hand. “I can use money to buy power. Once they take my money, they must do as I say—for his sake, if General finds it difficult, I’ll just go to the people listed in these accounts.”
Though she spoke so lightly and composedly, Gu Juhan knew this was coercion.
She was threatening him.
She knew well that approaching anyone else wouldn’t be as effective as approaching him. As the Yan Duke of Wei and a respected official, his words carried the most weight before the Emperor. She wouldn’t abandon him to deal with the people listed in these accounts—that would be counterproductive. By deliberately showing him the accounts implicating the Gu family, she was coercing him: if he didn’t help her, she would turn her knife against his family.
But that probably wasn’t all. She understood his character—if sacrificing his family could save a nation, he would unhesitatingly do so. Thus, she showed him more names—if she presented these ledgers to the Wei Emperor, what kind of upheaval would occur in the imperial court? If she used this list to incite factional disputes, what would happen to Wei’s political landscape?
...She was coercing him, using his family and even his country as leverage.
For a moment, Gu Juhan couldn’t even articulate his feelings.
Pain? Of course. He had affection for her. Even before she recklessly rushed into the fire today, he foolishly hoped she might overcome her obsession with that person, let go of the past, and turn to look at him. Now he finally realized how ridiculous that hope was—she not only wouldn’t love him but was even willing to drag him into hell for Qi Jingchen.
She was so ruthless.
Beyond the pain, he also felt confusion. When she married him, she came with nothing. The foundation of her business was in Jiangzuo. Though he knew Qi Jingchen had given her a sum of money to protect herself, it wouldn’t have allowed her to accumulate such wealth in just five years. While her Yi Tower and Golden Jade Hall brought substantial income, it would be impossible for her alone to bribe so many court officials; even if she could, he wouldn’t have heard nothing about it over the years.
This could only indicate one thing: someone was helping her.
It absolutely couldn’t have been Qi Jingchen. He was far away in Jiangzuo, entangled in the numerous deadly political schemes of the Liang court, barely able to save himself. How could he possibly extend his reach to Shangjing to help her?
Then who was it?
Shen Xiling knew Gu Juhan’s doubts, but she certainly wouldn’t tell him that the person helping her was her father.
Chancellor Shen had indeed died ten years ago, and the Shen family had long since crumbled into dust. However, even a centipede leaves behind an endless legacy after death—not just wealth, but connections.
Ten years ago, Chancellor Shen had entrusted two sums of money to Qi Yin through trusted servants. One of those servants, originally surnamed Gong, named Gong Zhi, left Jiangzuo after entrusting Shen Xiling to Qi Yin and went into hiding in Jiangbei under a different name.
Chancellor Shen’s dying wish was for the safety of his wife and daughter. Although Shen Xiling had been placed under Qi Yin’s protection, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t face displacement again. Thus, after leaving Jiangzuo, Gong Zhi continued to secretly monitor Shen Xiling’s situation. Five years ago, when the Qi family fell, and she was married off to the north, he found her again.
At that time, Shen Xiling was deeply dispirited, unable to recover from the events of the past. Gong Zhi’s arrival was like a sudden ray of light breaking through the darkness.
She learned that this gentleman had once been her father’s right-hand man and had continuously kept watch over her in secret. Naturally, she was moved. When Gong heard that Qi Yin hadn’t touched a single coin from the funds Chancellor Shen had given him and instead sold his own assets to secure Shen Xiling’s livelihood, he couldn’t help but deeply sigh, saying, “Chancellor Shen truly didn’t misjudge. That Qi Jingchen is indeed someone worthy of trust.”
From then on, Mr. Gong stayed by Shen Xiling’s side under the guise of an ordinary accountant, managing Yi Tower and Golden Jade Hall openly while secretly transferring the old Shen family trade routes to her.
Shen Xiling had always been a gentle soul who avoided conflict, and even the life-threatening hardships of her childhood hadn’t changed her pure heart. However, the calamity five years ago had shaken her to the core, especially since it involved Qi Yin, leaving deep scars in her heart. She had spent countless efforts secretly building her invisible empire, gathering countless merchants from the north and south. Most of them didn’t even know whom they were working for—they merely followed orders, bribing officials at various levels of the northern and southern courts in exchange for benefits. They relied on these powers to survive while simultaneously turning them into their pawns.
Wealth would always be inferior to power.
However, when wealth expanded to a certain extent, even power would have to bow its head.
Shen Xiling certainly wouldn’t reveal all these details to Gu Juhan. She only needed a result from him. At this moment, her calm demeanor reminded him of Qi Jingchen.
...Since when had she become so similar to him?
Even her expression while sitting there, negotiating and controlling everything, was identical to his.
Equally resolute, equally calm, equally unflinching.
His heart ached fiercely, causing him to lose some composure. He looked at her and sighed, “Xiling... how did you become like this?”
He still remembered their first meeting at a bustling marketplace in Shangjing. Back then, she was so pure, even willing to argue with others on behalf of a stranger, a little beggar, and sacrifice herself to protect someone weaker than her. When she smiled at him, her eyes were free of any impurities, as clear as the misty rains of March in Jiangzuo.
But now...
She was manipulating power—worse, she was wielding and exploiting power to fulfill her personal desires.
...How had she become like this?
When Shen Xiling heard his question, her expression grew deeper.
She smiled at him, but her eyes revealed a thicker layer of sorrow.
“Wenruo,” she said, “you wouldn’t understand.”
Her voice was somewhat hollow, her gaze increasingly distant, her brows furrowing more as if recalling some unbearable memories.
“I once asked him if I should change, if I should become ruthless,” her voice was low. “At that time, he told me never to change. He said he would always protect me, that he wanted me to remain pure forever.”
At this moment, she gave a faint smile, beautiful yet sorrowful.
“He didn’t break his promise; he has always protected me. But... no one protected him.”
“I will always remember that day in the court five years ago. Everyone was protected well by him, but he kept getting hurt... I couldn’t help him at all, I could only watch as those people hung swords over his neck.”
Her eyes welled up with tears as she looked at Gu Juhan, her expression utterly broken.
She even laughed: “Do you know what pains me the most?”
Her tears slowly slid down her beautiful cheeks.
“It’s realizing... that I am the sword.”
Though I loved him so much, though I never wanted him to get hurt, in the end, I became the knife in someone else’s hand, dragging him into an abyss without bottom.
I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate the high and mighty Emperor of Liang, the ghosts and goblins among the noble families, the hounds and falcons in the government offices... I hate them all, but the one I hate the most is myself.
I hurt him so deeply.
From that day on, I vowed to myself that if there’s ever another time, if he truly falls into danger again, I must save him.
No matter the cost.
No matter what I have to exchange.
No matter what I eventually turn into.
I only want to save him.
She buried these words deep in her heart, not voicing them aloud. Yet the profound affection and determination in her eyes clearly told Gu Juhan just how far she was willing to go for that person.
...She would never turn back.
He truly didn’t know what to say to her. By this time, she had already wiped away her tears and regained her composure.
She steadied herself on the armrest of the chair, swaying as she stood up, and declined his offer to help her. Once stable, she spoke again, saying, “I’ll give General three days to consider. If I still can’t see him after three days, I’ll find another way. There’s no need for General to worry further.”
Upon hearing this, Gu Juhan’s emotions surged violently, causing his hands to clench so tightly that blood seeped from his palms.
He was both shocked and furious: “Three days? This is such a grave matter; His Majesty has already made a decision. Even I can’t change this outcome within three days!”
Shen Xiling’s expression turned somewhat cold. She supported herself on the table and slowly walked towards the door, saying softly, “That is not my concern. General can weigh the options himself.”
Her voice was very soft and detached.
“Or General could kill me,” she turned back to look at Gu Juhan, her expression casual. “But even so, these account books will remain safely in someone else’s hands. If His Majesty wishes to act on other thoughts, it won’t be that troublesome.”
As Gu Juhan listened to her words, his hands finally relaxed, and blood continued to drip from his fingertips, yet he seemed oblivious.
He looked at this extremely frail yet extraordinarily beautiful woman—the only one who had ever stirred his heart. Yet, after spending so much time with her, he had never known she was such a cold-hearted and resolute person.
He watched her nod farewell and take step by step out of the study.
Her figure was so fragile, as if it might collapse at any moment.
And yet... she seemed stronger than anyone else in this world.
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