The Cctaiwan Alliance Leader’s extra chapter—well, consider this a funerary offering for the heroine... or a thank you from her family... I'm ashamed.

The scorching sun beat down on the earth. Perhaps sensing the end of their lives, the cicadas in the surrounding trees shrieked with all their might, shattering the deathly silence there.

In the makeshift thatched hut, the man sat bolt upright, guarding the corpse before him wrapped in white cloth.

Outside, people paced anxiously.

“This won’t do; one soaked in water shouldn't be kept long. Bury her quickly,” an elder murmured softly.

The middle-aged man in official robes shot him a glare.

“You tell him,” he hissed, pointing to the muddy footprints on his own attire. For him, a dignified Prefect, to be kicked out by a minor military official was an unimaginable humiliation. If it weren't for the Circuit Military Inspector’s sake, he would have walked out then and there. “I’m not going in.”

The elder sighed helplessly, glancing back inside.

“Shall we get some more salted fish?” he suggested quietly.

By the riverbank, under the fierce sun, a wooden bucket slammed down, spilling some of the gruel within.

The two disciples lying on the ground, and Ah Hao, were utterly still, seemingly without breath.

“Eat! All of you, get up and eat!” A Ru shouted. “All of you, get up!”

Ah Hao began to cry again.

Sister, let us die, let us die, she wanted to say, but unable to take in water or food, and without sleep, her lips merely moved, producing no sound.

“Get up, everyone! No one is allowed to die!” A Ru reached out to pull them, then looked behind her at the few soldiers trailing them.

These were the men Jiang Hai had assigned to watch them.

Seeing the woman with bloodshot eyes, cracked lips, and a pale face looking over, the soldiers couldn't bear to meet her gaze.

“Pull them up and force-feed them!” A Ru commanded.

The soldiers hesitated for a moment, then obeyed.

“No one dies! None of you can die!” A Ru personally scooped a bowl and forced it toward Ah Hao’s mouth. “The life she saved isn't yours; it’s hers! Don't you dare waste it! No one dares waste it! You will all live! You will all live well!”

Hearing the cries and shouts from this direction, the distant figures couldn't help but lower their heads and turn away.

“Sir, sir, we found this…”

Jiang Hai, walking with deep and shallow steps along the riverbank, was called to a halt. A soldier jumped down from his horse, holding a cloth bundle.

“This was salvaged from over there,” the soldier held it up and said.

Jiang Hai walked to the edge of the thatched hut, glanced at the man sitting rigidly inside, then looked down at the object in his hand, and stepped in.

Chang Yuncheng did not look up or move; he just sat numbly, his hand extended beneath the white cloth, tightly gripping the woman’s swollen, ice-cold hand.

Just like that time, when the woman had been beaten and couldn't wake up—he had held her hand just like this, talked to her, and then she would wake up...

Yes, she would wake up...

“...We just painted the house, and it’s dried now; the furniture is set up, see if you like it...”

“...You hurry up and get out of bed; don’t sleep so long. The house, the furniture, and the wages—everything is waiting for you to pay. I don't have the money...”

Watching the man’s low murmurings before him, Jiang Hai felt a burning pain in his throat.

“Sir,” he knelt and grasped Chang Yuncheng’s knee. “Sir, please don't be like this. Madam is gone now; let her rest in peace.”

“Get out,” Chang Yuncheng said.

Jiang Hai shook his head, holding the cloth bundle up.

“This was found—Madam’s things...” he choked out.

The words Madam’s things finally caused Chang Yuncheng’s gaze to shift; he turned. But even so, he did not loosen his grip.

Jiang Hai uncovered the bundle; the scalpel was revealed.

“...It was caught on the cable; Madam must have been trying to cut the rope... but...” Jiang Hai whispered.

In the dark river water, the woman struggled to sever the rope wrapped around her leg, again and again, until...

Chang Yuncheng suddenly stood up, pulling back his hand to grasp the scalpel.

“...It’s just that the other things couldn't be found... only this...” Jiang Hai continued, his head lowered, then he saw blood dripping onto the ground before him, one drop after another, increasing in number.

“Sir!” Jiang Hai jumped up in alarm, only then noticing that Chang Yuncheng had clenched his hand directly around the blade of the knife. He held it tight, tighter and tighter, blood surging from his palm.

“Sir! What are you doing!” Jiang Hai lunged forward to grab his hand, trying to pry it open.

Chang Yuncheng’s grip was ironclad, unyielding.

As they struggled, chaotic footsteps sounded from outside, and a group of people flooded in.

Jiang Hai froze, looking at these clearly unfamiliar men, dressed in the uniforms of the Factory Guard.

“Take him,” said the man leading them.

Are they taking the Master away? Jiang Hai was startled and instinctively shielded Chang Yuncheng, but the men didn't even look at them, proceeding directly to lift the corpse wrapped in white cloth.

“What are you doing?” Chang Yuncheng roared, stepping forward to block them.

“Lord Chang,” the leader pulled a scroll from his robes and unfurled it. “By imperial decree...”

An imperial decree?

Jiang Hai quickly knelt, pulling at Chang Yuncheng, who only knelt after seizing the white cloth bundle.

“...Conferring upon the Qi clan’s Yue Niang the title of County Mistress of Luting, to be returned to the capital for a grand burial,” the man read simply. After reading, he rolled up the decree and, saying no more, turned to leave.

Behind him, the Factory Guards lifted the corpse again and followed.

“Don’t take her away!” Chang Yuncheng shouted, holding on tightly.

“Chang Yuncheng, do you defy the decree?” the Factory Guard leader yelled sharply.

Chang Yuncheng neither heard nor saw; he only held the corpse wrapped in white cloth tightly against his chest.

“Sir, sir, let go... we cannot defy the decree...” Jiang Hai pleaded, grabbing Chang Yuncheng’s leg.

Chang Yuncheng kicked him away; not just him, but anyone who approached was kicked away.

Seeing that a group of men couldn't even seize a single corpse, the Factory Guard leader grew furious.

“Are you all dead men? Are you all defying the decree?” he roared.

The Prefect of Bingzhou was the first to react; he waved his hand, signaling his bailiffs, and the soldiers and constables from the Prefecture rushed forward.

Shouting, yelling, pulling, dragging, holding, pressing...

Chang Yuncheng watched the body in his arms being lifted away, loaded onto a cart...

He desperately reached out, but it was in vain...

It has been over a day; it feels like ages apart...

The woman blinked, her eyes pitifully pleading.

But, Chang Yuncheng, you are the one and only, irreplaceable. If I lost you, I would lose everything.

Everything...

Nothing left...

Chang Yuncheng buried his face in the swirling dust, his body curled up, his bloody hand clutching only that scalpel.

Early September, Yongqing Prefecture. As Chang Yunqi stepped out of his door, a group of servants bowed low.

“Congratulations to Third Young Master for achieving the fifteenth rank in the provincial exam, the Second Scholar, and being named the foremost scholar in the capital reports!” they shouted in unison.

Chang Yunqi smiled and raised his hand.

“Rewards,” he said.

The two young maids following behind him immediately smiled and brought out the red envelopes already prepared. The servants laughed and scrambled to snatch them up.

“Thank you for the reward, Third Young Master...” they chorused noisily.

“Hey, in a few more days, we won’t be able to call you Third Young Master anymore,” the maids said, barely concealing their pride.

The servants cheered again.

“Thank you for the reward, Heir Apparent.”

The Marquis of Dingxi had already petitioned the court to formally name the Heir Apparent, and it should be settled in the next few days.

Chang Yunqi merely smiled faintly.

“If you thank me again, there will be no reward. Your young master doesn’t have much money,” he chuckled.

This elicited another burst of laughter. Chang Yunqi turned his head, the smile on his face shallow, and it quickly vanished.

“Young Master, the Marquis has ordered the kitchen to prepare a celebratory banquet. If you need anything else, just say so. He feels unwell and will not be returning from the West Mountain Estate,” a steward hurried in to report.

Chang Yunqi nodded, said he understood with a smile, and watched the steward retreat. He turned back to look at the vast manor.

The manor was still the same manor, but the feeling... was different.

“Young Master, shall we go out to eat?” the servant asked as Chang Yunqi left the door.

Chang Yunqi nodded.

“Where to? I’ll reserve it first,” the servant said happily. “Now that Young Master is the Heir Apparent, whatever you wish to eat, we can book out the entire floor...”

Chang Yunqi glanced at the servant.

“Not all Heirs Apparent enjoy that sort of thing. I am me; he is him. Even if I become the Heir Apparent, I am not him,” he said coolly.

This constant talk of ‘me’ and ‘him’ confused the servant, but he stuck out his tongue and dared not speak further.

Chang Yunqi walked slowly. The street was bustling with activity.

Yes, he was not him. Even if he were no longer the Heir Apparent, what he possessed, he still did not.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted on the street; a group of men charged through, jostling the bystanders into chaos.

Chang Yunqi joined the crowd, moving to the roadside, watching as a group of men ran past, weeping loudly.

Men running down the street crying like that drew both amusement and curiosity from the onlookers.

“What happened?”

“Did their father die?”

“They couldn’t all have the same father die...”

“Don’t talk nonsense; those are the disciples from Qianjintang…”

Qianjintang?

Chang Yunqi raised his eyes to look at the group running past. Behind them came another wave of chaos, but this time no one ran. Instead, two disciples were supporting an elder who walked with unsteady steps.

“Doctor Liu!” The people on the street recognized him and greeted him one after another.

Liu Pucheng, always kind and courteous to people, seemed oblivious to the greetings, his face etched with sorrow, his steps hurried yet unstable. Looking closer, the two disciples also wore expressions of deep grief, with tear stains still visible on their faces.

“What could have happened?”

The street erupted in murmurs.

“I heard it! I just heard it! The people from Qianjintang are all heading toward the capital; they say Madam Qi is gone...”

News quickly came from the side, and this announcement caused the street to explode.

“Impossible!”

“What kind of joke is this!”

“It’s not a joke, no one is lying! The body has already been transported to the capital! The Emperor even conferred a County Mistress title! Go and see! Qianjintang has already hung mourning banners! If Madam Qi hadn’t met with misfortune, why would everyone be in mourning?”

With a thud, Chang Yunqi, who had stepped a few paces out of the crowd, dropped the folding fan in his hand onto the ground.

He turned to look at the loud-shouting crowd, his face filled with shock and undisguised terror.

What kind of joke!

What kind of joke!

How could she be dead! How could she be dead!