Not far from Yangzhou on a small path, the storyteller Gong Fei limped along with uneven steps until he reached a boulder and sat down. He pulled out the pipe from his waist, but just as he was about to light it, the escorting guard kicked his wrist.
“Old thing, who allowed you to leisurely smoke your tobacco pipe?”
The pipe flew from his hand and smashed against the boulder.
Gong Fei, who had aged a night in an instant, rubbed his aching wrist. Unbowed, he demanded, “This old man is going into seclusion, not as a prisoner. Why can’t I smoke my pipe?”
The guard sneered. “Seclusion? That’s just the Crown Prince giving you face. You think you’re off to enjoy yourself? Truth is, we’re heading straight to the Capital City.”
Another guard, eager to stir trouble, added, “The Capital City. Chief Minister’s Mansion.”
Gong Fei sensed danger. Even his cheekbones trembled involuntarily. If handed over to the Dong Family, he wouldn’t have a chance of survival!
“You dare defy the Crown Prince’s orders?”
“Go complain to Guard Commander Zheng.”
Gong Fei had heard of this Zheng fellow, one of the guard captains escorting the Crown Prince on his southern tour. In just half a year, he had risen from an unknown pawn to a fourth-rank guard with a blade.
He had thought the man a talent, but it turned out he was a opportunistic rat who curried favor with the powerful to climb the ranks.
“Hahahahaha.”
“What are you laughing at?”
“This old man laughs at the fickle ways of the world, villains in high places!”
“Old thing, tired of living?”
The guard waved, calling the others to surround the old man.
The old thing was going to die anyway, and the Crown Prince wouldn’t care about a down-and-out storyteller. They wouldn’t be questioned later.
With no qualms, they punched and kicked the old man.
In the dark forest path, blood seeped from the old man’s teeth. He no longer had the strength to wail and lay dazed on the ground, his gaze gradually scattering.
This treatment was no different from exiling a prisoner to the frozen wastelands.
Bullied by all.
The helpless old man thought of the refined and elegant Yide Empress. He couldn’t help pondering: if he really ended up in Empress Dong’s hands, did that mean the rumors were true?
That Empress Dong had caused the Yide Empress to give premature birth.
Only the guilty fear questioning voices.
But the old man had no strength to think further. Under the barrage of fists and feet, his skinny frame was about to fall apart.
Suddenly, a strange whoosh shot into the sky.
The guards looked up instinctively.
“Why is there a signaling arrow?”
“Someone’s sending a secret signal.”
They grew alert, turning their backs to the old man as they scanned the woods.
Pitch black and windy night. More terrifying than stumbling upon a beast was the fact that they were in the open,
while the enemy lurked in the shadows.
But who would dare target the guards?
Suddenly, a black shadow flashed past, pouncing like a fierce tiger and instantly felling one guard.
The others looked at their fainted comrade, hearts pounding, forced to brace themselves.
But the shadows multiplied, weaving and darting like flashing blades.
In a blink, the guards fell one after another, unconscious.
Gong Fei struggled to open his eyelids. In his ground-level view, a slender, elegant hand picked up the pipe from the grass.
A row of black-clad figures appeared behind the hand’s owner. Their builds varied: some with hands on hips and knives slung over shoulders, some hunched with crutches, some burly as oxen, all bathed in the moon’s silvery glow.
The lush grass and trees formed a scroll, and these men emerged like mountain spirits from an ink painting, reigniting hope in the despairing storyteller’s heart.
Perhaps his stories could continue.
The man who picked up the pipe stepped forward, clad in a pitch-black cloak with a hood shadowing his face, revealing only a bit of his jawline.
He helped the old man up, returned the pipe to his hand, struck a flint, and lit it for him. Wisps of white smoke rose languidly.
The scent of tobacco drifted.
After the man left first, Gong Fei couldn’t help asking the remaining hunched man, “May I ask that benefactor’s esteemed name?”
The middle-aged hunched man draped a cloak over the old man and chuckled. “Our young master does good deeds without leaving his name.”
They helped Gong Fei into a carriage. The hunched man kicked a dazed guard, then turned to the burly giant beside him. “Stayed in Yangzhou too long. Do you know the way to Jiangning? This is the young master’s first errand for us. Can’t afford any slip-ups.”
“Less chatter.”
The burly giant cracked his whip and set off, heading straight to Jiangning overnight. Per the young master’s intent, Mr. Gong was advanced in years and unsuited for long journeys, so they would settle him somewhere with a climate like Yangzhou’s to live out his days in peace.
The hunched man gazed a moment, then bent down and tucked a note into a guard’s collar.
The next day before dawn, the note from the guard’s collar reached Crown Prince Wei Xichen’s hands.
Wei Xichen sat by the relay station window at a tea table, dressed in snow-white inner robes with a cloud brocade outer shirt over his shoulders. His face showed some displeasure, but it returned to normal when Guard Commander Zheng was dragged in.
“Speak.”
His tone was even, showing no anger.
Guard Commander Zheng “thudded” to his knees. The top of his head was mere three copper coins’ distance from Wei Xichen’s propped left foot. Trembling in panic, he stammered, “Replying to Your Highness, this one… this one wanted to… was…”
“Was trying to curry favor with this prince’s mother.”
“…Yes.”
“So you went against this prince’s wishes.”
Fu Zhongcai, standing by the window, furrowed his brow deeply. This Guard Commander Zheng had grown a bear’s heart and leopard’s gall to overstep the Crown Prince’s orders!
How had such a fool gotten recommended by the Ministry of War?
Fu Zhongcai sneaked a glance at the note in the Crown Prince’s hand: blank, unsigned, just a drawing of a carriage. The intent was clear—they had taken Gong Fei, with a hint of provocation.
Who was the prime suspect?
On the surface, Huai Jin County Princess Cui Shihan. But would Cui Shihan dare openly snatch him away?
Or someone else?
Fu Zhongcai racked his brains and suddenly thought of one person, a strange expression crossing his old face.
Third Prince Wei Yangwan often used symbols to pass secret messages to his confidants and loved going against the Crown Prince.
Could it be the Third Prince?
Wei Xichen’s ears rang from Guard Commander Zheng’s noise, finding it grating. He glanced sideways, a chill gathering at his eye’s corner.
A usually mild and tolerant man needed only a hint of sternness to chill spines.
The natural authority of the high-born.
Guard Commander Zheng kowtowed desperately for mercy, knowing he had botched it and his life hung by a thread. He had no choice but to play his trump card.
“Your Highness, for the Eldest Princess’s sake, please show mercy!”
At his words, everyone but Wei Xichen gaped in shock.
Wei Xichen smiled faintly. “Even bringing out my imperial aunt. That’s quite the backer.”
“Your Highness, spare me…”
The Eldest Princess favored the Eastern Palace, thought Guard Commander Zheng hopefully. Perhaps the Crown Prince would spare him for his aunt’s sake.
But in the next instant, his heart froze.
Wei Xichen waved, signaling his trusted guards to drag the man away.
“Your Highness, mercy, Your Highness!!”
Wei Xichen, well aware of the Eldest Princess’s affairs, saw through it at a glance. No need for a full confession from Guard Commander Zheng—he understood the dirty dealings.
When the Deputy Guard Commander reported that Guard Commander Zheng had breathed his last, his mild face showed no ripple.
“Deal with the others too, to set an example.”
He said it breezily.
As for who snatched him—Cui Shihan, Wei Yangwan, or another?
Wei Xichen sank into thought.
The provocation wasn’t blind arrogance; it seemed to exploit his suspicious nature, using the drawing to sow more doubt.
Cui Shihan was young but a sharp tool honed by the Cui Clan. She usually played the fool to strike, possessing such cunning. But if only to save Gong Fei, she had no need to provoke suspicion and trouble.
Old Three, Wei Yangwan, wouldn’t expose himself with a drawing either.
Who else?
It had indeed grasped his fatal flaw of over-suspicion.
Wei Xichen rubbed his temple with a smile, his shoulders shrugging lightly, making Fu Zhongcai’s hair stand on end.
He had never seen the Crown Prince smile so sinisterly.
“Shall Your Highness investigate thoroughly?”
“Of course.” The fleeting sinister glint in Wei Xichen’s eyes left no trace. “But investigate in secret. Don’t alert the enemy.”
“Yes.”
Fu Zhongcai recalled another matter. “For the consort’s Lixia Banquet, she invited the wives of the Three Divisions Commanders from Jiangning. Will Your Highness attend in person?”
“No.”
Lixia approached. Roadside green locusts burst with new leaves, riverside willows draped like curtains over lotus ponds, jasmine on the verge of blooming filled the courtyard with fragrance, pearl curtains swaying in the scented breeze.
Jiang Yinyue, who had changed into light summer robes early, bathed in the morning light, in high spirits. But upon receiving an invitation, her little face cooled.
Yan Zhuyu had invited her to the Lixia Banquet.
The inner palace had spring banquet, minor heat banquet, mid-autumn banquet, winter solstice banquet, all hosted by the Empress. Once the Crown Princess was established, etiquette allowed her to handle them. Jiang Yinyue had attended countless palace banquets since childhood.
Yan Zhuyu hosting a Lixia Banquet was nothing more than, long constrained by Empress Dong, seizing the chance back in her hometown to shine.
This season, literati often held flowing wine banquets. Wei Qin had received several invitations.
All eager to glimpse the Bangyan’s elegance.
But what did Yan Zhuyu want inviting her arch-rival? Admire her knowledge or character? Hardly.
Jiang Yinyue amused herself, reclining leisurely on the lounge chair in the Rear Veranda Room’s courtyard, biting into a fresh, juicy peach.
Her mother-in-law had bought it fresh from the market that morning.
“Decline it for me.”
The attending maid Du Juan acknowledged and headed to Yan Mansion with the message.
Waiting half a day at Yan Mansion’s gate, Du Juan finally met the steward in charge.
She received no warm welcome.
After the side gate “bang” shut, Du Juan spat and muttered, “Dog-eyed snobs.”
As she turned to leave, she saw several respected Yangzhou jade and pearl shop owners arriving together, welcomed through the main gate by the Yan Mansion steward.
“Eastern pearls?”
“Yes, Consort Liangdi wants to gift one eastern pearl to each of the Three Divisions Commanders’ wives.” Du Juan reported every word she had overheard to Jiang Yinyue, who had just woken from her nap.
Jiang Yinyue thanked her for the trouble and gave a tip, watching Du Juan leave the side room delightedly.
Eastern pearls were exceedingly precious; the large, round, lustrous ones were one in ten thousand.
No wonder she summoned Yangzhou’s jade merchants to Yan Mansion.
Yan Zhuyu clearly aimed to befriend those three ladies.
Quite generous. She must have amassed a fortune by the Crown Prince’s side.
Jiang Yinyue paid no mind to those affairs, merely finding it ironic. Someone who stole her credit was thriving.
In the afternoon, as Jiang Yinyue accompanied Wei Ying sunning in the courtyard, she heard the whinny of the scruffy horse Lightning Chaser.
The Wei household was small, with the stable in a corner of the back yard. She sauntered over, hands on hips, teasing, “What’s the matter today?”
Lightning Chaser raised its long neck, as if venting discontent.