Chapter Sixteen: The Fall of the Su Family

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Just as Hua Wenkai had finished dealing with Su Qing, Cheng Yuyan and Su Ming arrived with tens of thousands of elite soldiers, stopping not far from the Su estate.

Cheng Yuyan had already received Hua Wenkai’s orders: wait about half a month before launching a sweep to eradicate the Su family entirely.

This timing was meant to put the perfect period on Su Qing’s death.

In truth, the Emperor had no intention of shouldering this blame himself—he was no fool. Back when Hua Wenkai had requested those two imperial edicts, the net had already been cast, waiting for Su Qing to be ensnared.

The reason Hua Wenkai hadn’t immediately killed Su Qing was twofold.

First, Su Qing’s prestige among the border troops was simply too great—if he tried to act within Su Qing’s stronghold, it would be suicide. Even if Hua Wenkai was one of the empire’s greatest martial masters, that could not compare with the might of tens of thousands of troops.

Second, and most crucially, he needed the perfect scapegoat.

To the outside world, it could be claimed that the elite Su soldiers, loyal to the Su clan, had betrayed the family and, under Cheng Yuyan’s command, annihilated everyone within the estate. As for Su Qing, on his way to present himself at the capital, he supposedly asked to return to the Su estate before his audience with the Emperor. By unfortunate coincidence, it was during this return that he was murdered by Cheng Yuyan and others, with only Commissioner Hua Wenkai and his men barely escaping with their lives, gravely wounded.

Thus, Su Qing’s death would not trouble anyone. If questions arose as to why those guards slaughtered the Su family, another scapegoat emerged: Su Ming.

It would be claimed that, driven by hatred for his own kin, Su Ming used the command token given by Su Qing to massacre the family. What did such monstrous acts have to do with the court?

Everything would be wiped clean by Hua Wenkai, and public opinion would flow in the direction most favorable to them.

Now, Cheng Yuyan and Su Ming were preparing to put this plan into motion.

It was already midnight. Eighty thousand troops had surrounded the Su estate, sealing it off completely. Yet, within the manor, no one had noticed a thing.

These eighty thousand obeyed only the Su family command token, each like an automaton, activated only by the token or by Su Qing himself.

Every one of these men was a hardened veteran, with no weak points—because their own families had long since perished, obedience was all they had left.

Now, with no order from Su Qing, the command token that held the Su family’s fate lay in Cheng Yuyan’s hands.

Cheng Yuyan did not act immediately; he was waiting. Waiting for Su Ming’s word.

He had already handed the command token to Su Ming. As soon as Su Ming ordered the attack on the Su family, burning the estate to the ground, the blame would fall squarely on Su Ming.

Cheng Yuyan could then pose as a pitiful culprit swept along by events. Though he was Hua Wenkai’s planted spy at Su Qing’s side, he had never surrendered his own agency entirely.

He knew that if he personally led the troops in, the blame would be shared between himself and Su Ming. But if Su Ming led the troops, the situation changed entirely.

He had left a copy of the letter he gave Su Ming—if he presented it later, it would prove Su Ming’s motive. With the wealth he’d amassed, he could bribe the powerful and perhaps save his own life.

Now, Su Ming could endure no longer.

Faced with a sea of blood and hatred, even knowing Cheng Yuyan’s calculation, he stepped forward without hesitation.

He raised the command token high, shouting, “Kill everyone in the Su estate—no matter who they are, as long as they are here, leave none alive!”

There was no resounding reply; only the clatter of armor as the army moved.

Eighty thousand men surged into the Su estate, as orderly as a swarm of ants.

“Enemy attack!”

A sharp cry pierced the night.

No one knew who shouted first, but in an instant, lanterns flared throughout the manor.

Many of the Su family’s servants, still bewildered, became the first victims.

In the chaos, no one cared for anyone else—all scrambled desperately to escape, the scene descending into utter confusion.

Then came the chilling volley of crossbow bolts, indiscriminately fired. Under tens of thousands of strong bows and crossbows, nearly a thousand lives were snuffed out in a moment.

As the arrows ceased, the ringing of drawn swords followed—a sound that shattered the last psychological defenses of the Su family.

There could be no organized defense; ironically, the Su family’s own traps and fortifications had been constructed by these very eighty thousand men.

Screams of agony echoed throughout the estate.

Flames rose high, setting the night ablaze—so bright that even the county office dozens of kilometers away saw it clearly.

In the county office, a night watch captain rushed to the magistrate’s residence, shouting, “Sir! Something terrible has happened! The Su estate seems to be—”

He had not finished before he felt his head dropping and glimpsed his own headless corpse.

“Remember, whatever happens at the Su estate tonight, no one is to speak a word. If those above hear of it, you’ll lose more than your hat of office!” Only these words drifted through the darkness before all fell silent.

The magistrate could only cower in his room, trembling.

How could he not know what was happening at the Su estate? Anyone with eyes could see it. He was but another victim caught in the storm.

He knew that if he tried to run, he would not survive the night.

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The Su estate, now devastated—

A servant, by luck, used his companion’s body as a shield against the arrows, smearing himself with blood in a desperate bid to feign death.

He lay motionless, hoping these fiends would pass him by.

Elsewhere in the estate—

“Kill them!” Su Ming raised his great sword and cleaved a man from head to groin in one stroke, splitting him asunder.

He no longer cared how well these people had treated him over the past decades.

All he remembered was that their hands were stained with his parents’ blood—they all deserved to die.

The fleeing crowd were like fish on a chopping block, at the mercy of the executioners.

Shadows surged from all sides, slaughtering without mercy. There was no escape; the exits had long been blocked. Their flight was futile.

Soon, the remaining members of the Su family were herded like swine to the ancestral hall.

“Blessing or curse, one cannot escape fate. It seems our Su clan is doomed to this calamity,” spoke the eldest third grand-uncle, his voice the first among the terrified crowd.

“Third Uncle, didn’t Second Brother entrust you with a way to save yourself? Use it now!” Su Qing’s third younger brother, recalling something Su Qing had said, spoke up urgently.

But the reply was a firm denial: “Qing’er never told me anything. The enemy is clearly prepared. We can only await death.”

“What? How can that be!” At these words, the crowd descended into desperation. Their last hope was extinguished.

Soon, Su Ming appeared at the door of the hall.

The people inside did not yet know that Su Ming was leading the rebels. They only saw the blood on his body and the murderous intent emanating from him.

Su Ming looked at them, words on his lips dying before he could speak.

As he turned to order the massacre of those inside, a gentle female voice called to him.

“Su Ming? Come here, quickly! There are killers outside—if you leave the hall, you’ll be in grave danger!”

“Third Aunt…” He remembered her well—the aunt who had cared for him since he was a child, giving him everything he wanted, protecting him even when he was wrong, standing up to his adoptive father for his sake.

He remembered the four days he lay feverish; she watched over him without sleep for three nights and four days, nearly dying herself when he finally recovered.

When he awoke, the first thing he saw was her exhausted, hopeful smile...

“Why are you so good to me!” Su Ming, face twisted with hatred, turned to look at her. Her gentle face shone like a ray of light, striving to dispel the darkness in his heart.

Su Yurou met his gaze, unafraid, as if this formidable warrior was still just a lost child in her eyes.

“Yurou, come back! Can’t you see he’s about to kill us? Don’t go near him!”

But Su Yurou ignored the protest, walking straight to Su Ming, her eyes as gentle as ever despite the passage of decades.

Su Ming’s fists clenched, tears streaming from reddened eyes.

A voice in his ear screamed,

“Why not kill her! Do it—kill her!!”

“No!”

Despite the shouts, Su Yurou stood before Su Ming, her delicate hands covering his trembling fists.

Her eyes grew misty as she spoke, voice choked with tears, “From childhood to now, I’ve always stood by your side. If you’re angry, let me share your burden. If you have troubles, let me solve them. No matter what, I’ll stand by you.”

For a moment, under the bloody glow of flames, the Su estate fell eerily silent.

It was as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them, as if time had turned back to that summer decades ago.

“This child is so adorable, Brother Qing—where did he come from?” A beautiful woman took the baby from Su Qing’s arms, her heart melting at the sight of the chubby-cheeked Su Ming.

Su Qing, seeing his sister’s fondness, recalled her long-held wish and said, “I found him while fighting in the north—his parents had been slaughtered by the enemy. I couldn’t bear to leave him to the wild, so I brought him back as my adopted son.”

Su Yurou’s maternal instincts surged. Gazing lovingly at the baby, she said, “Second Brother, let me raise him. I’ll teach him well—he’ll be the pillar of the family one day.”

Su Qing laughed and shook his head, “I worry you’ll spoil him.”

But, after her persistent pleas, he agreed.

“Think carefully—if you raise this child, it will be hard to remarry,” Su Qing warned, mindful of the world’s prejudices. Though Su Yurou’s husband had died on their wedding day, never even touching her, it mattered little. Taking in Su Ming would make remarriage nearly impossible.

But Su Yurou replied without hesitation, “He and I are both unfortunate souls. How can I abandon him? You and I know the pain of losing a mother—I won’t let him suffer it again.”

Hearing this, Su Qing could say no more. “He has no name yet—you’ve agreed to care for him, so you should name him.”

Su Yurou gazed at the baby and murmured, “To be born into this world is both your misfortune and your blessing. In ancient times, King Wu heard the phoenix’s cry on Mount Qi and marched against the tyrant. Let him be called Su Ming.”

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That brief moment felt like an eternity for the two of them, as if the past had become the present.

Without warning, Su Ming dropped to his knees before Su Yurou, weeping bitterly. “The debt I owe you, Third Aunt, can never be repaid, not even in a hundred lives!”

Su Yurou knelt and gently stroked Su Ming’s blood-stained hair, unconcerned by the gore.

He clung to her, releasing his anguish in a wolfish howl.

Su Yurou asked nothing, only held him tightly, as she had done decades before.

“Cry, child, cry. Aunt knows all your pain. If you let it out…”

But before she could finish, a sharp blade was driven through her heart.

Cheng Yuyan, watching, breathed a sigh of relief—he had not expected this complication, but Su Ming’s choice had ultimately followed the plan.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Under Su Yurou’s shocked gaze, Su Ming could only sob apologies, his hands trembling so much he could barely grip the sword in her chest.

Blood poured from her mouth as she shuddered and leaned her head on his shoulder. With all the gentleness she could muster, she whispered, “Killing me... is enough... turn back…”

Before she could finish, darkness closed over her eyes, as if someone beyond was telling her, “You’re tired—rest now.”

As he felt her go limp in his arms, Su Ming’s cries grew even more heart-wrenching. He could not understand why vengeance was so hard—he had come prepared to kill these people who had “raised” him, but the pain of doing so was a hundredfold worse than the hatred he’d carried.

The one who loved him most had died by his own hand; there was nothing left in this world to hold him.

Raising the sword that had just pierced Su Yurou’s chest, he pointed it at the remaining Su family and said, “Kill them all—leave none alive!”

Thousands of armored soldiers surged forward, exterminating the last survivors.

Su Ming knelt before Su Yurou’s corpse, watching the carnage.

He laughed, but as he did, tears streamed down his face once more.

“Third Aunt, I’ve grown used to your care. Without you, I can’t go on. I’ll join you soon. This time, let me stay by your side. It’s been so long since I’ve tasted your sweet osmanthus cakes.”

With that, he raised the sword and drew it across his throat, adding another splash of blood to the Su estate.

Cheng Yuyan frowned at the sight of Su Ming’s corpse. With Su Ming dead, his own way forward was now uncertain.

He took up the command token and ordered, “Anyone not yet dead, finish them—make sure every soul perishes in the Su estate tonight.”

A hundred miles away, in a bamboo cottage—

“This is bad! Young master, we must leave at once!”

Having received urgent news from the guards, Li Siguo did not even take time to pack, waking the still-drowsy Su Bai.

“What’s wrong? Why the rush?” Su Bai asked, barely awake.

Li Siguo hoisted Su Bai onto his back, running as he choked back tears. “The Su estate is under attack—likely already destroyed. If we delay, they’ll find us here as well.”

“What?” Su Bai was shocked.

He had expected the court to suppress Su Qing, but never imagined such ruthless measures. The entire Su family, wiped out in a single night.

He was forced to reconsider the world’s brutality.

Before he could recover from Li Siguo’s words, a chilling voice, like death itself, descended upon them.

“Young master, you’ve made us work so hard to find you. Won’t you at least buy us a drink?”

Li Siguo’s face turned grim.

There were many experts hidden in the bamboo cottage, but their pursuers had caught up so quickly.

He gently set Su Bai down, turned to face him, and said, “Young master, the road ahead will be unimaginably hard. I can go no further.”

There was no need for more words; Su Bai understood at once.

He said nothing, simply turned and fled into the depths of the bamboo forest, leaving Li Siguo watching his receding figure.

As the assassins closed in, Li Siguo drew a pill from his robes and swallowed it. “My lord, I’ve done all I can. Now it’s up to the young master to survive.”

“Bloodburst Pill—so, old man, you’re ready to die,” sneered a voice from the darkness. “You two—go after the boy. I’ll handle him.”

“If you want to kill the young master, you’ll have to go through my corpse!” Li Siguo erupted with inner strength, a firefly burning itself out in one final, brilliant flash…