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墨書 Inktalez
Cui Cheng sat alone in the room for over an hour, brainstorming one plan after another, but none of them seemed perfect. He had considered going to the palace to apologize and asking the Emperor to cooperate in sending Zheng Moru out of the city. However, the palace gates remained tightly shut, and he had heard vague rumors that the Emperor was ill. It seemed that unrest was brewing, with signs of rebellion emerging, making Cui Cheng hesitant to show his face.
Moreover, he had his own little schemes; killing a spy alone would bring him greater credit than if he were part of a larger group. As he weighed his options, he heard the sound of the door being gently pushed open.
Without lifting his head, Cui Cheng shouted, "Get out! Didn't I tell you before? No orders, no entry! Do you not understand the rules?" His angry shout did not scare the intruder away. Hearing footsteps approach, he realized something was amiss and looked up to see a young servant from his household staring at him fearlessly.
Cui Cheng quickly gathered himself and asked, "Are you from Zheng Moru's side?" The servant nodded.
"Did your master send you to deliver a message? Sounds urgent."
The servant replied, "My master requests that Cui the Imperial Teacher make a decision quickly. Once it's done, there will be great benefits."
Cui Cheng scoffed inwardly, thinking, "I’m just afraid that if I earn money, I won’t have a life to spend it." He knew that his capabilities as Cui the Imperial Teacher were somewhat recognized by his master; after all, leaving the city should not be too difficult for him.
When he stepped outside earlier, he noticed that there were far fewer watchful eyes near the Marquisate. Given the recent events in the palace, it was likely related. This was good; if everyone's attention was focused on the palace, it would reduce danger for both parties significantly. Perhaps they could simply borrow Cui the Imperial Teacher's carriage to leave the city.
"You think it's that simple? Do you think our guards are just a bunch of useless drunks? A single carriage won't get us out!" Cui Cheng retorted.
The Old Man was already over eighty years old and hadn’t left the estate in years—let alone leave the city under such strict conditions. Anyone would find it suspicious.
"If we must leave this way," Cui Cheng continued with a hint of sarcasm, "the Old Man would be willing to cooperate. If discovered, I could just lift the curtain and take your master along for a noble cause, leaving behind a good name while also paving a way for the Cui Family."
The visitor frowned at his words. "I was just speaking casually; please don’t be angry, Imperial Teacher. I will heed your instructions."
"Then stop urging me," Cui Cheng replied. "Return to your Marquisate and wait. Just before dawn, there will be four knocks at the back door; that's when you can leave. After that, follow my instructions."
Given that Cui Cheng had unilaterally changed the timing and needed their cooperation, the visitor did not dare to argue further and bowed respectfully. "Thank you for your trouble, Cui the Imperial Teacher."
After much contemplation, Cui Cheng decided not to inform anyone else in his household about this plan. It might seem inconspicuous now, but when it came down to critical moments, he felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness regarding his family's future.
This was life-threatening; even a slight misstep could lead to total failure. Thus, it fell upon him alone to navigate this perilous journey.
He chose the most trusted manager and selected ten of the best bodyguards. One stayed by his side while the other nine provided covert protection. Each was given specific instructions, and though their words varied slightly, they all understood their roles. With so few people, each one was assigned a task, and the distribution was so effective that they could accomplish the work of ten.
He made some adjustments to his appearance, thickening the insoles of his shoes and straightening his back. He dressed as a humble peddler, carrying a light load and walking briskly through the streets and alleys.
Fortunately, he had taken good care of himself over the years; otherwise, at over eighty years old, walking like this would have left him collapsed on the ground long ago.
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