The Marquis Mansion’s Elite Class

Xu Wan was utterly stunned.

The words spoken were far too audacious. Fan Ding had explicitly stated that this matter would implicate the Emperor’s dignity, yet Zong Zhao remained undeterred, determined to seek justice for Chancellor Yan.

Such bravery and fearlessness were truly admirable.

The little troublemaker was so excited that he grabbed his elder brother’s sleeve and shook it vigorously. Though he didn’t say a word, his face was a theater of expressions: Look, Brother! That’s my father! Unbelievably amazing!!

Zong Wenxiu had never felt such confidence before—confidence that his uncle would surely help clear his grandfather’s name.

Fan Ding, who had maintained an air of calm throughout, finally twitched in irritation. His intention had been to remind Zong Zhao to know his limits, but instead, the man had doubled down, defying all authority.

Suppressing his emotions, Fan Ding forced himself to place another move on the board and said, “Six years ago, a corrupt vice-minister from the Ministry of Revenue tried to appeal his case. Not only did the Emperor refuse to hear his defense, but he also demoted the Minister of Revenue who sought to overturn the verdict. If even a vice-minister’s case was so difficult, do you really think pursuing Chancellor Yan’s case will be any easier?”

“Whether it’s easy or not is my path to walk. Elder Fan need only concern himself with his own,” Zong Zhao replied. Behind him, the soldiers stood at attention, their presence alone a silent threat.

The mention of “walking one’s path” was, in reality, a euphemism for escorting someone to their doom.

It was clear that Fan Ding was about to be taken away.

Fan Ding’s beard quivered with rage, and his hand trembled slightly as he placed another piece. But having navigated the political arena for decades, he steadied himself and made his move. “The Emperor’s greatest concern has always been Luo Jingfeng. Yet upon your return to the capital, instead of easing His Majesty’s worries, you’ve allied yourself with Luo Jingfeng, repeatedly undermining the Emperor’s authority. Luo Jingfeng holds military power—no one dares touch him. But what do you have? Just your military achievements? General Zong, it would be unwise to be so overconfident.”

The black piece left his hand, sealing the white pieces’ fate.

Fan Ding smiled smugly. “It seems this old man has narrowly won. General Zong, having spent so many years on the battlefield, how could you possibly understand the twists and turns of the capital’s politics?”

At this point, it seemed the matter was settled.

Even Xu Wan felt a pang of anxiety for Zong Zhao. She didn’t know the full extent of his circumstances, but from an outsider’s perspective, Fan Ding’s words rang true. If Zong Zhao insisted on humiliating the Emperor, His Majesty might very well seize the opportunity to retaliate, placing him in grave danger.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍two youngsters clutched each other’s sleeves nervously. Though still young, their daily studies on policy and governance had given them enough understanding to grasp the gravity of Fan Ding’s words.

The more they understood, the clearer Zong Zhao’s precarious position became.

As Fan Ding gloated, Zong Zhao remained seated, his sharp eyes flickering with something dangerous.

Amidst their silent standoff, a guard suddenly rushed into the courtyard and announced loudly, “General! The ledger has been found!”

“What?!” Fan Ding paled in shock.

He scrambled to his feet, his voice sharp with accusation. “Zong Zhao! You sat here playing chess with me while secretly sending men to search for my ledger?!”

Zong Zhao set down his piece and replied matter-of-factly, “Obviously. Did you really think I had nothing better to do than play chess with you?”

“Pfft—” The little troublemaker couldn’t hold back his laughter. His father’s bluntness was just too much.

Xu Wan also exhaled in relief. So he had planned this all along.

“You—you—” Fan Ding shot up, but could only watch helplessly as the ledger fell into Zong Zhao’s hands.

That thin booklet contained records of his dealings with numerous officials—a tool he had once used to manipulate others. Now, it had become his own death warrant.

“Zong Zhao!” Fan Ding snarled through gritted teeth. “Have you lost your mind? You dare move against me? You think you can use this ledger against me? There are hundreds of officials named in here—do you really believe the Emperor will side with you over all of them?”

Having served as the Emperor’s chancellor for four years, Fan Ding knew His Majesty’s mind better than anyone.

The little troublemaker’s laughter died instantly.

Once again, it was a choice between many officials and one man.

Last year, it had been the same. When the Crown Prince investigated the brothel case, over fifty officials were implicated. Zhai Li had used the potential unrest as leverage, and the Emperor had ordered all of them spared.

Now, history was repeating itself—only this time, the number of officials involved was even greater.

And the investigator was no longer the Crown Prince, but his father.

Once again, they were standing against the filth and corruption festering in the shadows.

Zong Zhao didn’t waste further words on Fan Ding. He simply stood and commanded, “Take him away.”

“Yes, sir!”

The soldiers stepped forward and seized Fan Ding.

Fan Ding struggled wildly, shouting, “Let me go! Have you all gone mad? Zong Zhao! Zong Zhao, look at who I am! I am Chancellor Fan! I was once the chancellor of Great Chu, a man who served the nation and its people with distinction! This is betrayal—a disgrace to loyalty! Heaven will not tolerate this!”

Zong Wenxiu could no longer contain himself. “The one who betrayed loyalty is you!” he retorted. “Chancellor Yan dedicated his life to the nation and its people, serving with integrity. Yet you framed him for embezzling a thousand taels of silver! Look at this lavish estate of yours—how many thousands of taels did it take to build? How dare you call yourself a loyal servant? How can you face Chancellor Yan in the afterlife?”

“Who are you?” Fan Ding’s eyes burned with fury. If not for the soldiers restraining him, he would have lunged at the insolent brat.

But when he turned, he was met with Zong Wenxiu’s blazing gaze—a gaze so firm, so familiar, it was as if time had rewound to over a decade ago.

He saw Chancellor Yan’s iron-willed expression as the man declared, “Fan Ding, for embezzling one hundred taels of silver, the law dictates confiscation of the illicit funds, one year’s salary as penalty, demotion by two ranks, and a three-year ban on promotions.”

Chancellor Yan had been ruthless in punishing corruption. And Fan Ding? He had merely succumbed to temptation once—just one hundred taels!

After a lifetime of honesty, what was one hundred taels?

But Chancellor Yan had shown no mercy, exposing his disgrace and imposing a punishment that left him stagnant for years.

The resentment had festered. Of course it had.

So he had orchestrated Chancellor Yan’s downfall in return.

He had hidden evidence in the fabric of clothes, in accessories, in the jewelry of loved ones—places Chancellor Yan would never suspect. Piece by piece, the “evidence” had accumulated to a thousand taels, ten times the amount he himself had taken.

By the very laws Chancellor Yan had established, he should have been stripped of his position, his family reduced to commoners.

The architect of harsh justice had met his end by that same justice. It was what Yan Zhun deserved.

Fan Ding had always believed he was justified. He was merely avenging countless others like him—those wronged by Chancellor Yan’s inflexibility. The man’s downfall had been inevitable.

But now, standing before this youth, he couldn’t help but remember Yan Zhun. He remembered Great Chu’s golden age, remembered the laws they still followed—laws Chancellor Yan had crafted.

His voice trembled. “You… you are… you are Yan Zhun’s descendant!”

Zong Wenxiu wanted to claim his identity, wanted to declare: Yes, Chancellor Yan’s bloodline lives on. There are still those who seek justice for him.

But he wouldn’t risk complicating his uncle’s plans. Instead, he met Fan Ding’s gaze and said, “Chancellor Yan may be gone, but his loyalty endures. And you—you will answer for your crimes.”