Midnight. Third watch.
The imperial city lay buried in the coldest layer of darkness.
Behind the Imperial Kitchen, at the most overlooked entrance to the waste passage, the wind howled softly through the narrow alley. Damp blue bricks glistened faintly under the night, and the air was thick with a sour, rotting stench.
This was a place everyone avoided.
And precisely because of that—
it was the safest place of all.
No one wanted to come near it.
And no one wanted to investigate it.
But tonight—
Qing Tian stood hidden in the shadows.
Her robes melted into the corner of the wall.
Her expression calm.
Motionless.
The wind lifted strands of her hair—
but could not disturb her gaze.
From afar—
the faint sound of wheels grinding over wet stone approached.
Two thin horses pulled a worn wooden cart slowly forward. The axle creaked softly, almost deliberately subdued against the silence of the night.
On the side of the cart were two characters:
"Waste."
A mark everyone in the palace recognized.
One glance—
and people instinctively stepped aside.
No one would ever lift the curtain to check.
The cart came to a stop.
The driver jumped down.
A middle-aged man with an old scar across his face.
His expression was numb—
yet a flicker of tension betrayed him.
He instinctively scanned the surroundings before raising his hand and knocking lightly on the cart.
Three knocks.
Soft.
Rhythmic.
From the darkness, a low voice responded.
So quiet it was nearly swallowed by the wind.
But above—
on the rooftops—
two shadows had already taken position.
Imperial Guards.
One of them whispered,
"Timing confirmed."
"Accurate."
The other narrowed his eyes.
"Wait."
They were not in a hurry.
Because the prey had not yet fully exposed its throat.
The driver turned, ready to complete the handoff.
At that exact moment—
Clink.
A faint metallic sound.
Soft—
but piercing.
The driver froze.
The next instant—
the underside of the cart was pried open.
As the wooden panel loosened—
a smell burst out.
Not rot.
Not filth.
But—
the scent of grain.
Clear.
Impossible to mistake.
The panel dropped.
A lantern flared to life.
And revealed—
rows upon rows of neatly stacked rice sacks.
Each bag marked with the Internal Affairs Bureau seal.
Red stamps intact.
Seals unbroken.
The air turned cold.
The driver's pupils shrank.
His face went deathly pale.
From above—
the two shadows dropped.
The Imperial Guards revealed themselves.
No shouting.
No drawn blades.
Only a calm, commanding voice:
"By imperial order."
"We inspect night grain."
The driver collapsed to his knees.
His voice shook uncontrollably.
"I—I'm just the cart driver!"
"The money… it was Eunuch Lin!"
"Eunuch Lin?"
The guards exchanged a glance.
Their expressions hardened instantly.
"Seal the cart."
"Take him."
No more words were needed.
Chains clamped down.
The man was dragged away.
The cart was fully secured under the night sky.
The first layer—
of hidden grain—
had been exposed.
Before Dawn · Food Office
The report had already arrived.
Qing Tian sat at her desk.
The lamp still burning.
She was flipping through accounts.
A soft knock sounded.
"Come in."
The messenger entered quietly.
"Director Qing."
"The first cart has been seized."
Her brush paused for a fraction of a second.
But she did not look up.
"How many sacks?"
"Seventeen."
She nodded slightly.
Her voice was calm—
almost cold.
"Enough to open a case."
As if everything had been expected.
Same Hour · Internal Affairs Courtyard
A steward was dragged from his quarters.
Before he could understand what was happening—
he was slammed to the ground.
"I was following orders!"
He struggled wildly.
His voice breaking.
"The temple grain—!"
Before he could finish—
a heavy blow.
Silence.
The night swallowed the last of his cries.
Morning · Imperial Kitchen Hall
Qing Tian sat at the head seat.
Her expression no longer gentle.
The air was sharp with tension.
"From today onward—"
Her voice was steady.
But cut like steel.
"All granaries will be resealed."
"All night carts must be reported."
"Anyone who obstructs—"
"will be treated as grain thieves."
No one dared respond.
Wang Youcai's face changed instantly.
Yangxin Hall
The Emperor listened to the report.
His expression did not shift.
He only said one sentence:
"Keep digging."
His gaze was cold.
"Dig until they don't even dare reach for the temple anymore."
Dawn
Qing Tian stood beneath the corridor.
The sky was slowly brightening.
Her shadow stretched long behind her.
Her resolve—
unshakable.
Because she knew—
the night soil cart was only the first layer of skin.
And the real poison—
had only just begun to show its shape.