Shi Buyu was indeed not in a hurry.

If something world-shaking could be accomplished that easily, then she wouldn’t be human—she’d be a demon.

Her confidence came from within, and also from what Whitebeard had said the night before she left.

That unreliable old glutton who’d nearly lost all his teeth said:
“You have the right time, the right place, and the right people. In terms of fortune, no one in the world can match you. When it’s time to advance, advance. When it’s time to cut ties, do it. Don’t hesitate. And if in the end you still can’t win—don’t you have me?”

That was her source of confidence.
But at the same time, she would never allow herself to fail in this matter—not even once. She wouldn’t give Whitebeard a chance to laugh at her.

She had brains, she had strategy, she had her brother, and she had old friends she’d made over the years from all over. If she still lost with all of that, it would be a disgrace to the name “calamity star.”

What is a calamity star, anyway?
It’s someone who ensures that those who wish her ill don’t get to live comfortably.

Still, she hadn’t expected the turning point to come so quickly.

On a crescent moon night, they returned once more to the mass grave.

The other side disposed of the bodies with practiced ease. On their end, they confirmed from a distance that the others had left, then moved in to examine the corpses—this time, with torches instead of fire starters, and long blades instead of daggers.

This was already the third time. Everyone was becoming disturbingly familiar with the process, and the mood was even starting to feel relaxed.

But the moment they lifted one of the mats and saw the face underneath, Yan Ze immediately let the mat drop back down and shouted,
“Back away!”

Several people rushed forward to shield Yan Shian as he retreated. Wan Xia directly picked up the young lady, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Shi Buyu also held A’gu tightly—it was clear this wasn’t the first time they’d experienced such a moment.

Yan Shian asked hoarsely,
“What is it?”

Turning back and seeing his young master covering his mouth and nose, Yan Ze let out a breath and tightened the cloth over his own face before stepping back.

“The man’s face isn’t slashed—but it looks like smallpox!”

Everyone’s expression changed drastically, and they instinctively stepped several paces back.

Smallpox—once infected, hardly anyone survives!

“Young Master, we shouldn’t stay here.”

Shi Buyu heard this, and she knew it too—they shouldn’t linger. But something didn’t sit right with her. She thought for a moment and said,
“Yan Ze, check the other bodies. Keep your distance.”

Yan Ze gripped his long blade and stepped forward. That blade was meant for emergencies—who would’ve thought it’d be needed tonight?

He lifted the mats from the other two bodies and was slightly surprised:
“Cousin, their faces are slashed. No unusual signs.”

Shi Buyu patted A’gu’s back. A’gu understood and set her down, though she still wouldn’t let her get too close.

“Lift the clothes of the first corpse. Check the arms and legs.”

Yan Ze did as told:
“Cousin, nothing there.”

“Check the other two.”

“Nothing either.”

Shi Buyu frowned slightly:
“I’ve never seen smallpox myself, but I’ve heard from physicians that it doesn’t only show on the face—it should also appear on hands and feet. This doesn’t make sense.”

Yan Shian caught on quickly:
“You think it’s not real?”

“This is the capital,” Shi Buyu said, looking at him. “If there were a real smallpox outbreak, things wouldn’t be so calm. Even if the news hadn’t spread publicly, the people who needed to know would know. Have you heard anything in the past few days?”

Yan Shian didn’t even need to think:
“Not a single word.”

“Exactly.”

Shi Buyu wanted to move closer to examine further, but Whitebeard’s voice echoed in her ears—“A wise person doesn’t stand under a crumbling wall.”
She wanted to insist, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. It was cowardly, but understandable.

Yan Shian understood:
“You mean someone’s using smallpox as a cover?”

But what kind of business could be done under the guise of smallpox?

Neither of them could figure it out. After all, once someone was suspected of having smallpox, they’d be immediately isolated. There’d be no chance to do anything—except wait for death.

“Young Master, this person—this person…”

Yan Ze’s urgent tone drew both their attention. Shi Buyu even took a step forward—only to be pulled back by Wan Xia.

“It’s a eunuch!” Yan Ze’s voice cracked. “Young Master, he’s a eunuch!”

There was only one place in the entire empire that used eunuchs: the imperial palace.

Shi Buyu smiled.

Her suspicion had been right.

“Many people enjoy beauty, but only a few can kill without consequence. Even fewer have the means to collect beauties from all over and not see them as people.”
She looked at the body wrapped in straw matting.
“Even the Grand Chancellor doesn’t have that kind of power.”

Yan Shian understood her meaning. His throat tightened.

“So that’s why you drew those portraits and searched.”

“Streams gather into rivers, rivers flow into lakes, and lakes into seas.”
Shi Buyu made a flowing motion with her hand.
“But in the end, they’re all water. If water wants to drown you, a stream can’t, a river maybe, a lake you might escape—but a sea? Where could you run?”

She pointed to the countless skeletons in the mass grave:
“They are but drops of that water. When the time comes, they too will rise like a tidal wave and drown this little capital city.”

Then she raised her hand, pointing toward the capital.

“He thinks he commands the world. But the world is vast—what is he, really? Nothing but a frog at the bottom of a well. Yan Shian.”

Yan Shian looked at her, this woman who now exuded wild ambition and blazing pride.

Shi Buyu looked him in the eye:
“Never become that frog at the bottom of the well. I’d look down on you—just as I look down on the emperor today.”

This matter wasn’t even close to being resolved. But the way she said it—it was as if everything had already been written, and all that remained was for him to don his robes and take his seat.

He couldn’t help it—his heart surged with emotion.

“I will remember tonight,” Yan Shian swore solemnly.

“You’d better.”
Shi Buyu turned to Yan Ze.
“Check his backside.”

The shift in topic was so abrupt—from high and mighty philosophy to down-in-the-dirt practicality—that the previously spellbound Yan Ze took half a beat to react. He stepped forward and began to move the body, silently marveling:
Cousin truly isn’t like normal people. She dares to belittle the emperor one moment and strip a eunuch the next—and even links the two with perfect logic, trampling that thief into the dirt.

Always wary that his cousin might suddenly feed the young master something, Yan Ze now felt, for the first time, the pleasure of standing on her side. He even wished she’d say a few more lines—dead body or not, he would—

Wait. Did the dead body just move?

His body reacted faster than his brain. Yan Ze leapt back, blade raised, eyes locked on the pit.

“Young Master, the body is changing.”

Changing? A corpse—reanimating?

Before Yan Shian could speak, Shi Buyu’s eyes were already glowing.
She’d heard many strange tales from Whitebeard—now she was about to see one with her own eyes! If A’gu hadn’t been holding her back, she’d have rushed right over.

“Quick, tell me! What’s happening to him?”

Yan Ze stared fixedly.
The man’s head moved.
Then—his eyes opened.

Probably dazzled by the torchlight, he shut them briefly—then opened them again.