Morning light filtered softly through the lattice windows of the Chen residence, illuminating shelves lined with ancient books and neatly rolled scrolls. The air smelled faintly of ink and sandalwood.
Chen Guowei sat alone in his study.
The parcel lay open on his desk.
No seal.
No name.
No sender.
Only a single letter.
His fingers, usually steady even in court debates, trembled slightly as his eyes moved across the page.
With every line he read, the color drained from his face.
By the time he reached the final sentence, his hand clenched so tightly around the paper that it crumpled.
Impossible…
The words written there were not threats shouted loudly.
They were worse.
They were quiet truths.
Things buried for years.
Deals made in shadows.
Favors exchanged that should never have existed.
Things no one should know.
Yet someone did.
And that someone knew enough to destroy him completely.
> Do not send your younger daughter, Chen Ruyi, to the palace.
