He opened the treasure box and took out the "fake Treasure Scroll" woven from golden threads.
What he wanted had never been the real "Cheng Tian Treasure Scroll."
The real one had been quietly switched out half a month ago through the Second Prince's connections.
All he wanted was this "fake."
And a flawless performance that would convince everyone the "Cheng Tian Treasure Scroll" had been stolen.
The night wind howled, setting the copper bells beneath the eaves of the bell tower clanging. It was as though they were playing the overture to the grand drama that had just begun in the Capital City.
Chen Ye stood high above the ground, with countless flickering lights beneath his feet and faint commotion drifting from the direction of the Imperial Observatory. His expression was calm, like a spectator enjoying the play he had staged himself.
He spun the golden-threaded "fake Treasure Scroll" around one finger. It felt luxurious and substantial, convincing enough to pass for the real thing.
That was exactly the effect he wanted.
A perfect theft required every spectator to believe it was real. First Prince Zhao Hong was the perfect starting pistol, Ling Zhao was the sharpest hound, and the Imperial Observatory was the seemingly impregnable fortress—and therefore the ideal one to storm.
Now the pistol had fired, the hound was on the move, and the fortress had fallen.
The entire Capital City would be fixated on this "stolen" scroll.
Chen Ye slowly unfurled the fake Treasure Scroll. Its writing was bold and sweeping, full of grandeur. Every character had been penned by "Ghost Brush," the most famous forger in the Capital City, whom he had hired years ago. Each stroke radiated the majesty of the imperial house, convincing enough to fool anyone.
Unfortunately, it was still fake.
And