His tone was very flat, yet carried a sense of cold indifference.

The servants, not daring to breathe, discovered that the calligraphy scroll that had always hung in a prominent place in the flower hall had actually disappeared without a trace.

Staring at the now bare wall, the servants were terrified. Not daring to slack off, they split up and hurried off in all directions.

Before long, all the important figures of the household gathered here: the stewards of the inner and outer residences, the accountant, the treasurer, and several advisers and guests—more than a dozen people assembled together. They too noticed the empty wall, and someone seemed to sense something was wrong.

Eunuch King's eyes narrowed to slits, unmoving.

Led by the chief steward of the inner residence, Quinn King, everyone saluted Eunuch King in unison: "Greetings, Eunuch King."

Eunuch King stood up, hands behind his back, pacing around the hall.

Everyone kept their heads down, not daring to move a muscle.

When he reached a corner of the hall, Eunuch King's gaze turned cold. He lifted his leg and kicked the blue-and-white porcelain vase in the corner.

Crash...

The porcelain vase shattered on impact, shards flying everywhere. The kneeling stewards and guests were struck by the flying pieces, and bright red blood flowed from their wounds, looking like crimson earthworms.

The chief steward of the inner residence, Quinn Bolton, who was kneeling at the very front, was struck on the forehead by a shard. His forehead was a bloody mess, but he still dared not move, not even to cry out in pain or to wipe his wound, just gritting his teeth and enduring the pain in silence, his face ashen.

Eunuch King stopped nonchalantly, his gaze ignoring them as he faced the empty wall, letting out a chilling sneer: "Guard against outsiders day and night, but it's hardest to guard against a thief in the family."

Just those eight words were like a death sentence, making everyone's heart leap into their throats. The chief steward of the inner residence, Quinn Bolton, his head covered in blood, said in terror, "Please calm your anger, sir..."

Eunuch King sneered coldly, "A perfectly good calligraphy piece—how could it vanish overnight?"

The steward of the inner residence, Quinn Bolton, looked even more distressed and hurriedly said, "Sir, I heard rumors outside saying that your calligraphy is somehow related to a treasure map. Maybe someone is stirring up trouble, making people believe there really is a treasure map, so they took the risk..."

The more Quinn Bolton spoke, the more plausible it seemed. The accountant, Connor Reed, quickly added, "Yes, I've heard those rumors too. Someone must have listened to such nonsense, lost their senses, and committed this outrageous act."

Connor Reed was a failed scholar who had earned Eunuch King's trust; otherwise, he wouldn't have been put in charge of the accounts. Now, stepping forward to support Quinn Bolton, he allowed Quinn Bolton to breathe a little easier.

"Is that so?" Eunuch King turned, fixing a sinister gaze on Connor Reed. Connor Reed immediately lowered his head again.

Eunuch King spoke slowly, "Take our note and go to the county yamen to summon people here for a thorough investigation!" The words "thorough investigation" rang out like a great bell, shaking the rafters.

"Yes, yes, a thorough investigation!" Quinn Bolton took the opportunity to wipe his forehead, the mixture of blood and cold sweat staining his sleeve bright red.

Eunuch King nodded slightly, his anger seeming to subside a little. He sat back in his chair, eyelids drooping as if dozing, saying nothing more.

This calligraphy piece was far too important to him. If the bigwigs in the capital learned that he didn't even cherish their treasured calligraphy, let alone whether he could continue to wield power here—once he lost their favor, he would most likely end his days in the Divine Palace Prison.

All of this had been arranged by that boy surnamed Bennett. But could that boy really recover the original piece? Eunuch King wasn't very confident. His eyes narrowed slightly, a trace of murderous intent flashing by. He thought to himself: If it can't be recovered, not only will I lose my future, but that boy must also bear the consequences.

Chapter Eight: Who Is the Lowly Servant

After a few cups of tea, someone came to report from outside: "Sir, the people from the county yamen have arrived."

Eunuch King said indifferently, "Let them in to speak."

Two men in black uniforms entered. The older one looked worldly and experienced, while the younger seemed a bit green. However, Eunuch King recognized one of them—it was Quentin Bennett, dressed in official attire.

Charles Bennett was originally from the county yamen, so he was quite at ease. As soon as he entered, he greeted Eunuch King with a cheerful smile.

As for Quentin Bennett, whose official uniform didn't fit very well, he was a bit more reserved, deliberately pretending to be naive and inexperienced as he awkwardly saluted Eunuch King.

Eunuch King's expression was indifferent. He first glanced at Charles Bennett, then his sharp gaze fell on Quentin Bennett. He said, "I trust you both know what has happened. If you find out the truth, there will be a great reward. If not..." Eunuch King picked up his teacup, idly playing with the lid, and continued in a calm tone, "If not, don't even think about leaving."

Charles Bennett quickly replied, "Yes, yes."

Quentin Bennett could clearly sense the murderous intent in Eunuch King's tone. This was a matter of life and death—Eunuch King was definitely not joking.

Eunuch King reclined in his chair, his eyes half open, half closed, and said, "Why are you all still kneeling? Stand up and speak."