Chapter 42: The Scapegoat Princess Consort Sentenced to Death

Since the Prince Han's Estate was not built deep within secluded mountains and dense forests, even though its grounds were vast, it was still located within the prefecture city. Therefore, while spreading the relevant news throughout the entire commandery and state might be difficult, spreading it across the prefecture city was remarkably easy.

Some of the licentiates and provincial graduates whose family backgrounds were far from insignificant had already managed to rush home within an hour or two to seek assistance, inform their families of their ordeals, and discuss strategies for self-preservation.

Beyond that, the complete disappearance of the entire Prince Han's Estate was no minor matter. Anyone who was not blind could see it. The local prefectural yamen, upon discovering this, certainly could not remain idle and at least had to dispatch people to investigate.

Consequently, even more news began to pour in.

For a time, an uproar filled the air. Even though dusk had fallen, it did not stop people from lighting lamps for late-night discussions, nor did it prevent the local gentry and chieftains from hastily conferring in private before marching together to the prefectural governor's office to demand an explanation.

This incident had truly touched upon their ultimate taboo.

Their region was remote, and in terms of culture, education, and various other aspects, it lagged far behind developed areas with very few opportunities for advancement. Many officials sent here to govern were practically considered as good as banished. Under such circumstances, for the local gentry and chieftains, let alone cultivating a metropolitan graduate, even cultivating a provincial graduate was exceptionally difficult, and a mere licentiate was treated like a priceless treasure.

With a little coordination among the provincial graduates, securing a local official post for them was completely unproblematic—and not as a mere clerk.

They would be proper officials holding official documents from the Ministry of Personnel.

Officials and clerks were fundamentally different; officials were revered, while clerks were lowly. Transforming from a clerk into an official was as difficult as ascending to the heavens.

Therefore, those licentiates and provincial graduates undoubtedly belonged to the inner circles and dearest hearts of the local gentry and chieftains. Among them, if a provincial graduate failed the metropolitan examinations three or four times, the families would arrange for him to directly receive an official appointment through the Ministry of Personnel.

Provincial graduates were indeed eligible for official posts.

However, it required money and connections.

At the same time, they would neither secure a prestigious official post nor be assigned to a favorable location. Yet their hometowns were hardly desirable places anyway, and few were willing to go there. Obtaining an official post directly within their exact place of household registration was impossible, but securing an appointment in a county adjacent to their registration was entirely feasible.

Families intermarried with one another: my son-in-law would go to serve as an official in your region, and your brother-in-law would come to serve in mine. Could they possibly fail to look out for one another?

As for the licentiates, while passing the provincial examination to become graduates was ideal, for those who simply could not pass no matter what, they could still be arranged to serve as clerks in places like the county yamen.

No matter how humble a clerk might seem, that was only in comparison to an official. Compared to commoners, they still occupied a towering position. Having family members serving as officials in distant places alone was not entirely reliable; one could not constantly bother distant officials over every minor matter.

There had to be someone locally to help handle trivial affairs.

Relying solely on monetary bribes was not dependable either.

Ultimately, one had to have their own people on the ground.

Yamen runners and the like belonged to lowly status registries, so they certainly would not let their own family's licentiates take on such roles. However, the yamen also possessed many clerks who did not belong to lowly registries, such as chief clerks and scribes.

These positions were likewise exceptionally important.

Only through such coordination could they safeguard their family assets and social standing.

Thus, it was no exaggeration at all to say that those licentiates and provincial graduates essentially served as their future protective umbrellas. If Prince Han had taken action against ordinary commoners, or even against the less important members of their own families, they could have turned a blind eye, pretended not to see, and even helped offer condolences. But striking at licentiates and provincial graduates was striking at the root of their existence; they simply could not overlook or tolerate it any longer.

And so, once they understood the specifics, had they not immediately banded together and come to the prefectural governor's office to seek redress?

Inside the prefectural governor's office, absolute chaos reigned for a time. A crowd of people burned with righteous indignation, arguing with flushed faces. The prefectural governor himself was somewhat at a loss; he could not afford to offend the coalition of gentry and chieftains standing before him, but neither could he afford to offend Prince Han on the other side. What could he possibly do?

In the end, he could only offer empty promises to appease them.

He claimed that he was aware of the situation, that he would help look into it, that he would negotiate with Prince Han, and that he would report the matter to higher authorities. However, the specific outcome would require waiting, and he urged everyone not to panic or rush, promising that they would definitely be given an explanation and would not be let down.

The gentry and chieftains also understood that this matter could not be resolved easily and could not be forced, so they could only reluctantly express their acquiescence and temporarily disperse. But this was clearly only on the surface. In reality, shortly after leaving the prefectural governor's office, they quickly gathered in private once more, jointly resolving that if the authorities failed to provide a satisfactory explanation, they could not blame them for joining forces inside and out with the local aborigines and rebellious chieftains.

They were willing to submit and act like dogs precisely so they could live in peace. Now that even the finest descendants of their families could no longer be protected, what peace was left to speak of!

They might as well rise in open rebellion!

Meanwhile, miles away in a mountain forest where he was suppressing and capturing wild mountain tribes—both to purge local crises and conveniently gather experimental subjects—Prince Han finally received an urgent transmission from his loyal confidants in the estate.

He was left utterly bewildered.

He felt as though he could no longer comprehend the contents of the message:

"The entire estate has completely vanished, and the refined Gu-human has also been exposed? How could the estate just disappear? Could it have burned down in a fire? But the report didn't mention that... Forget it, issue the order: recall the troops and return."

Though doubts abounded, Prince Han trusted that his confidants would not spout nonsense without reason. Something must have genuinely gone wrong with the estate, and he had to go back and see for himself.

Fortunately, it was currently the scheduled time to break camp and rest anyway.

There was no danger to speak of.

Thus, there was no need for any advance preparation or defensive measures; he could simply head straight back.

Another hour or two later, as night fell completely, Ding Shui finally waited above the former site of Prince Han's Estate for the prince to return with his personal guards, only to witness a Prince Han's Estate that, apart from people, was virtually devoid of everything else.

The present Prince Han's Estate was reduced to bare earth.

"This..."

"Your Highness, shouldn't we leave at once? This matter looks rather abnormal; I fear it is beyond human capability to accomplish."

The alert guards had already begun anxiously advising him. Earlier, they had no idea what had happened, but seeing that less than twelve hours after their departure, the entire Prince Han's Estate had completely vanished, it struck them as utterly abnormal no matter how they looked at it.

A gentleman does not stand under a tottering wall.

Without a doubt, retreating and distancing themselves from this place was the wisest course of action.

Hearing this, Ding Shui knew he could wait no longer. What if Prince Han was truly cautious and fled immediately? Then he would have to haul all those Gu worms and go looking for him.

Therefore, in the next second, Ding Shui directly selected the Gu worms remaining inside the Gu pit—primarily creatures like snakes, toads, centipedes, and scorpions—and randomly fused them into every part of Prince Han's body, excluding only his brain, internal organs, and bone marrow. This was the conclusion Ding Shui had reached after numerous experiments: as long as foreign objects were not directly fused into those vital areas during integration, the subject would not instantly drop dead or suffer a complete breakdown of their genetic chain.

Immediately following this, before Prince Han even had time to voice whether they should leave, the Gu worms that had remained inside the Gu pit suddenly flew out one after another, fusing with various parts of Prince Han's body and causing a horrifying distortion.

Some of his fingers transformed into scorpion stingers, while others turned into snake tails. His tongue sprouted a pair of large fleshy pincers alongside a pair of eyeballs, and his entire body's skin erupted with multicolored bumps, as if the skins of hundreds or thousands of different species of toads and frogs had been crudely sewn onto him.

His left eye bulged outward, transforming into a serpentine pupil.

His right eye sank inward, turning into a toad's eye.

Half of his hair turned into scorpion legs, while the other half transformed into a dense mass of centipede legs. A multitude of multicolored snake tails sprouted from behind his lower back, and within his mouth, the upper row of teeth transformed into a cluster of venom fangs while the lower row grew a cluster of poison sacs.

The Prince of Lu's transformation into a boar could still be considered somewhat harmonious.

Prince Han's transformation, however, was truly a reckless, random jumble of chaos.