Over the next few days, Units A and B of 《The Grand Game》 crew worked around the clock.
With several major group scenes filmed, the skeleton of the drama was now fully established.
The plot advanced to Xiao Yi using his identity as the Third Prince's guard as cover to find a clue regarding the "border provisions case" of years past.
In the capital, there was a trading firm called "Shuntian Firm."
On the surface, they dealt in grain, oil, and cloth, with accounts so clean they looked freshly washed.
But as Xiao Yi followed the old case further, he discovered an inexplicable connection between the firm and the missing provisions from back then.
Meanwhile, Lin Zhaonan also discovered in the Censorate's files that "Shuntian Firm" was suspected of colluding with the Ministry of Revenue to evade massive amounts of taxes.
The two clues clashed head-on just like that.
In Xiao Yi's eyes, this was highly likely a hidden purse for the prime minister's faction.
While in Lin Zhaonan's eyes, this was his very first strike in purging political corruption.
The two hit it off immediately.
They would seize Shuntian Firm, arrest the suspects, and audit the accounts, determined to uproot this den once and for all.
Yet neither of them knew that Shuntian Firm was merely a trading firm on the surface; in reality, it was the main headquarters for the Southern Realm's hidden agents who had been lurking in the capital for years, as well as a trump card in the hands of the hostage prince, Chu Yan.
It was Jiang Yue's tenth day on set.
Inside the Spring Breeze Pavilion at the Palace of the Qin King scenic area.
Today's scene was the turning point of Chu Yan's life.
Chu Yan was not a born schemer.
In the beginning, he was merely a hostage prince trapped in the capital.
He wanted to preserve the Southern Realm's foundation in this stagnant pool of water, and he also wanted to protect those who were still willing to risk their lives for him.
He once thought that as long as he played dumb and acted like a complete waste, the Southern Realm would get a little more breathing room.
But what happened next would slap him wide awake.
This scene depicted Lin Zhaonan obtaining solid evidence, successfully seizing "Shuntian Firm," and arresting the head manager, Xue Ming.
Firmly believing he had unearthed a cancer of the imperial court, a high-spirited Lin Zhaonan paraded Xue Ming through the streets, preparing to throw him into the Imperial Prison.
But to Chu Yan, this was an absolute catastrophe.
He had to accomplish two things before Xue Ming was sent to the Imperial Prison.
First, retrieve the master registry of the Southern Realm's hidden agents concealed on Xue Ming's person.
Second, establish a public personal grudge where Xue Ming's debt had enraged him. By framing it purely as a personal feud, the Emperor wouldn't "suspect" the Southern Realm of treasonous designs and strike against them.
The only cover he could exploit was his universally known reputation as a useless playboy.
“All departments, in position!”
The clapperboard snapped down.
“Action!”
The camera panned smoothly.
Outside the Spring Breeze Pavilion, a chilling air hung over the long street.
Lin Zhaonan rode on horseback, followed by a wooden prison carriage.
Inside the carriage, Xue Ming's hair was disheveled, and he wore a heavy cangue, his prison garb matted with a mixture of blood and grime.
The commoners along the street whispered and pointed fingers.
The Censorate officers escorted the prison carriage forward with grand presence.
This should have been Lin Zhaonan's moment of triumph.
Purging corruption with absolute impartiality, the young censor was establishing his authority in a single stroke.
But in the next second, a second-story window was violently flung open.
Thud!
A wine jar fell from the sky, shattering right in front of the prison carriage.
Wine and broken shards of porcelain nearly splashed all over Lin Zhaonan.
The entire street fell silent for an instant.
More than half of Chu Yan's body leaned out of the second-story window.
He wore an extremely vibrant, wide-sleeved red silk robe, his collar half-open, his hair messy, and he held a half-empty flask of wine in his hand.
That splash of red was incredibly eye-catching amidst the gloom of the street.
“Stop!”
Chu Yan slumped over the windowsill, swaying unsteadily, looking so drunk that he might tumble down at any moment.
Slurring his words, he clamored arrogantly, “You dare block this heir's path?”
Lin Zhaonan looked up, his brows furrowing tightly.
Disgust and contempt were written plainly across his face.
“Chu Yan!”
Lin Zhaonan barked coldly, “The Censorate is conducting official business! Get back to your den of pleasure and stop making a nuisance of yourself!”
Hearing this, Chu Yan let out a direct sneer.
His smile was frivolous and incredibly punchable.
He stumbled down the wooden stairs from the second floor, his steps exaggeratedly weak and unsteady.
He staggered with every single step; it looked as though a random gust of wind could blow him straight into the roadside ditch.
Yet it was this very man who somehow commanded the attention of the entire street.
Chu Yan walked up to the prison carriage.
Suddenly reaching out, he snatched the riding whip from the waist of a nearby guard.
Without the slightest warning, a whip lashed down hard on Xue Ming with a sharp crack.
The sound of tearing flesh echoed clearly down the long street.
The onlookers lining the street recoiled half a step in unison out of sheer terror.
“You old dog!”
Chu Yan's eyes were cloudy and dazed, but his voice was sharp and piercing.
“That pathetic firm of yours still owed this heir three hundred taels of silver for wine last month!”
“Now that you're going in, who's going to pay me back?”
“Are you going to pay with your life?!”
Lin Zhaonan instinctively opened his mouth to berate him.
But the words died in his throat.
Because the aura radiating from Chu Yan at this moment was too chaotic, too sinister.
He was drunken, manic, utterly unreasonable, and possessed an indescribable chill.
Crack!
Another whip lashed down.
Chu Yan leaned his entire weight against the prison carriage, shoving the handle of the whip violently into Xue Ming's chest.
The two of them were so close their breaths mingled.
To bystanders, this was just a madman throwing a public tantrum to collect a debt.
But in a blind spot hidden from everyone else, Xue Ming lowered his head ever so slightly.
A thin bamboo tube hidden in his messy hair slid out with his movement, silently dropping into Chu Yan's wide sleeve.
The movement was so swift it left virtually no trace.
Xue Ming raised his head once more.
On his blood-stained face, there was not a trace of hatred.
Only the calm resolve of someone going to his death.
“Heir...”
Xue Ming's voice was hoarse and wheezing. “This lowly one deserves to die.”
“What I owe you, I shall repay in the next life.”
This was a code.
The subordinate goes to his death; the registry is secure.
The movement of Chu Yan's hand paused for less than half a second.
In that single instant, the outermost mask of drunkenness on his face seemed to be sliced open by something sharp.
Endless, profound sorrow bled frantically from the crack.
It was so brief it felt like an illusion.
The man he had just whipped with his own hands was Uncle Xue, who used to hold him as a child and teach him how to ride horses.
The man who, back at the Zhennan Prince's Residence, would secretly slip candy into his pockets.
But now, he had to stand here and personally send this man to his death.
He constantly spoke of wanting to protect them.
Yet, in the end, his so-called protection was personally driving a blade into the chest of his own person.
In the next second, Chu Yan forcefully swallowed down the crack.
An even more complete, twisted madness surged onto his face.
He suddenly took two steps back and threw the riding whip to the ground with a face full of disgust.
“The next life?”
Chu Yan sneered, his face dripping with disdain.
“Cut the crap.”
He turned around, his back to the prison carriage, and looked up at Lin Zhaonan on horseback.
Then, his lips parted into a wide grin.
“Lord Lin, this dog has ruined my mood for wine.”
“Once he's in the Imperial Prison, remember to treat him to a few more amusing torture devices on my behalf.”
“If he doesn't die, my anger won't be appeased.”
Sitting on horseback, Lin Zhaonan's palms gripping the reins were drenched in cold sweat.
He suddenly felt that the man before him was utterly terrifying.
Not because of deep, calculating shrewdness, but because of a bottomless, rotten-to-the-core depravity.
From inside out, this person lacked even a shred of humanity; a single glance at him was enough to make one feel nauseous.
Gritting his teeth, Lin Zhaonan squeezed a sentence out from between them.
“For the Zhennan Prince's Residence to produce an heir like you is truly an immense joke.”
“Take him away!”
The prison carriage rolled forward once more.
The heavy wooden wheels ground against the bluestone pavement, making a dull, heavy sound.
Xue Ming's tragic figure receded bit by bit from view.
Chu Yan stood all alone in the middle of the long street.
Around him were the jeers of the spectating commoners and the cold stares of the soldiers.
He stared straight ahead, never looking back.
The autumn wind swept past, fluttering the corners of his bright red robes.
The red silk, which had just been as flamboyant as fire, now only looked like an eyesore of stark desolation.
His back slightly hunched, his right hand inside his wide sleeve gripped the blood-stained bamboo tube with a death grip, his knuckles turning white.
Protection?
In this man-eating capital, protection was an absolute joke.
The more you wanted to protect something, the more you were destined to lose it.
The more you wanted to keep someone safe, the more you had to personally pave their path to death.
Never in my life cultivating good deeds, only loving murder and arson.
Only by ascending to that highest seat could one decide the life and death of others, rather than watching helplessly as one's own people went to their graves.
At this moment, the last remaining warmth in Chu Yan's heart was completely extinguished.
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