The officer stared at them with a blank expression, as if merely talking to them might infect him with some unknown disease. His gaze swept over all four prisoners before he sneered and walked away.
His subordinates had been quietly listening since before, and when their leader returned, they immediately started chattering in Ailao—careful to use their native language, as the topic involved the four prisoners.
Meng Xizhao watched the officer closely, but his face revealed nothing. He couldn’t tell whether the officer’s mood was favorable or hostile.
After a moment, Meng Xizhao sat back on the edge, stretching a hand to help Jia Renliang move to the dry spot.
Jia Renliang was jumpy by nature; even a slightly loud voice from the Nanzhao soldiers could scare him senseless. Add a downpour, and Meng Xizhao worried Jia might keel over before the soldiers even acted.
Xie Yuan, noticing this, edged closer to Meng Xizhao, while Wang Sili, cold, hungry, and scared, eagerly moved as well. The cart barely had room for a single leg, yet Meng Xizhao managed to wedge him in.
No longer soaked, Wang Sili was grateful—but even happier to be near Meng Xizhao; fear diminished in his presence.
Meng Xizhao despised him for it, but the cart was small; he couldn’t tell him to move.
Xie Yuan cautiously watched the Nanzhao soldiers and whispered, “Do you think they’ll believe it?”
Meng Xizhao met his anxious gaze and shook his head. “Probably not.”
Logically, the story was sound—but in reality, it was absurd. Life rarely aligned so conveniently. Even Meng Xizhao wouldn’t believe someone could be that unlucky if he hadn’t experienced it himself: having escaped danger by wandering off, only to be captured as cargo by Nanzhao.
Hearing this, Wang Sili panicked. “Then why’d you say that? What if we angered them—what do we do?”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
What else could he do?
Although he’d never been to Ningrenfu, he knew it bordered Ganzhou, meaning they were rapidly approaching Nanzhao’s stronghold. Once there, relying on their weak bodies to escape was futile. Yet he also refused to resign himself to a lifetime in Nanzhao.
His family was in Qi, and he had worked hard to become a third-rank magistrate, aiming for influence in the Three Departments and Six Ministries. Starting over in Nanzhao was not part of the plan.
Moreover, Nanzhao would not give him that opportunity. If his true identity were revealed, the consequences were unthinkable.
Meng Xizhao didn’t yet have a foolproof escape plan. He only knew he and Xie Yuan had to return to Qi—and they couldn’t afford a fatal stain on their records.
Jia Renliang or Wang Sili having an affair with a Nanzhao woman wasn’t critical—they could pass it off and survive, even if their careers ended. But for Meng Xizhao and Xie Yuan, the stakes were far higher.
Best case: hopeless struggle, sent back as jobless civilians.
Worst case: no limits—exile, execution. If someone exposed this and accused them of collusion with Nanzhao, their families would also be ruined.
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
He had narrowly avoided total annihilation and would not let his misfortune return him to square one.
Claiming impotence and that they came to treat illnesses wasn’t to make the officer believe them—they didn’t actually have these problems. It was a warning: his plan to sacrifice Xie Yuan to curry favor with the princess would fail because they were unwilling.
Think about it: if he offered up a man who resisted and refused in front of the princess, how would she feel?
Only tyrants or scheming nobles liked to take things by force. Ordinary people found forced offerings unappealing.
Of course, the princess might have eccentric tastes—but Meng Xizhao couldn’t count on that. He’d have to find another solution.
Wang Sili, noticing Meng Xizhao zoning out, stopped pestering him. He wanted to ask again, but Meng Xizhao spoke first: “Second uncle, keep your words few. Remember what happens when your throat blocks and you go hoarse if you speak too much?”
Wang Sili: “…………”
Too scared to argue, he hugged himself silently.
The rain lasted nearly two hours. When it finally eased, the officer ordered them to resume their journey. The muddy roads were difficult; the horses’ hooves sank deep. Tensions ran high. As night fell, they reached an inn. The officer decided to stop for the night, letting them sleep. Tomorrow, once the roads were drier, they would continue—after all, they weren’t far from their destination.
Those staying at the inn were led to proper guest rooms, but Meng Xizhao and the others were yanked from the cart and shoved into the inn’s cellar.
The cellar looked like it had been used for holding people before. There was a table, some tattered bedding, and a few bowls with chips missing. The innkeeper stood by, smiling, as the guards locked them in.
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
A cellar? Are we absolutely sure this isn’t some kind of black site?
The door slammed with a clang, followed by the heavy clank of chains being secured. Inside, it was pitch black; Meng Xizhao stood alone—or at least he thought so.
From the darkness came Wang Sili’s voice: “Da—”
Meng Xizhao: “Second uncle, what did you just call me?”
Wang Sili’s words twisted awkwardly: “…eldest nephew… what do we do now?”
Before Meng Xizhao could reply, the chains rattled again. The cellar door opened, and a Nanzhao soldier poked his head in. Seeing them frozen in place, he sneered.
“Not bad—much more obedient than pigs.”
Wang Sili had never been called that in his life; his expression faltered, but he dared not get angry.
Seeing their lack of backbone, the soldier felt even more contempt and superiority. He tossed down a cloth bundle, hesitated for a moment, then decided not to overstep and threw them the candle that the officer had instructed him to deliver.
Candle delivered, he kept the firestarter for himself, satisfied that he’d completed his duty while giving the Qi men no favor, then left.
The cellar returned to darkness. The three of them couldn’t see each other. Xie Yuan quietly groped his way along the floor until he found the candle, then lit it with the firestarter he’d kept hidden. Its glow barely illuminated half a square meter.
There was a table. Xie Yuan placed the candle on it for protection, while Wang Sili picked up the cloth bundle. Inside were hard, dry flatbreads. The recent rain had left the cellar low and flooded; the cloth was soaked, and half the bread was waterlogged.
Meng Xizhao grabbed the tattered bedding to make a mat. Damp as it was, it couldn’t cover anyone—just a cushion for sitting.
The three sat silently around the table. Jia Renliang, still unconscious, was laid on the mat. Four of them kept vigil over the tiny candle, each one’s mood increasingly bleak.
Meng Xizhao even wondered if the little match girl from that old story felt the same despair lighting her last match.
They hadn’t eaten for two days and one night. Even if they had, the Nanzhao soldiers only provided bread, no water. Wang Sili first thought they had forgotten, but listening to the dripping water, he realized the soldiers wanted them to drink the filthy water on the floor.
He couldn’t take it any longer and slammed his fist on the table: “This is too much!”
The table wobbled, the candle flickered precariously, almost going out.
Wang Sili: “…………”
Jia Renliang woke up, confused by how surreal the past two days had been—every time he opened his eyes, the scene had changed. Sitting up, seeing the three troubled companions, he recalled what had happened.
Xie Yuan quickly filled him in on what happened while he was unconscious, including their assumed identities, so he wouldn’t slip in front of the Nanzhao soldiers.
Jia Renliang: “…………”
He had no objections to the fake identities, but looking at their expressions, he didn’t understand how they could remain so calm. He opened his mouth to call out: “Da—”
Meng Xizhao remained silent. Wang Sili, however, exploded: “Don’t call him ‘eldest nephew’! From now on, it’s ‘lord’!”
Meng Xizhao: “……”
No need for that.
“Call me ‘Langjun,’ call this one ‘Master Sun,’ and that one ‘Second Uncle.’”
Jia Renliang: “……”
Well, now he objected—why was he the only servant among the four?
But now wasn’t the time to argue. He hurriedly whispered to Meng Xizhao: “Langjun, we need to escape! Nanzhao kills without blinking. If we reach Ningrenfu, we’re done for!”
Wang Sili thought the same. It seemed like the perfect time—but looking at the cellar door, he realized: how could they escape? They had no tools and couldn’t even break the door.
Jia Renliang: “We have to try, right? It’s better than just waiting to die!”
After some back-and-forth, they remembered Meng Xizhao had been silent the whole time. Jia Renliang turned to him.
Jia Renliang: “…Langjun?”
Meng Xizhao, unhappy, crossed his arms and spoke: “That thing around your neck—is it supposed to make you taller?”
Jia Renliang: “…………”
What did I do now?!
Meng Xizhao rolled his eyes: “Even if we could open the cellar, do you know where to go? Can you guarantee there won’t be pursuers? And if there aren’t any, how do you expect the three of us in Da Qi clothing to pass Nanzhao checkpoints?”
Jia Renliang gaped blankly. After a while, he remembered: “Wait… aren’t there four of us?”
Meng Xizhao: “Oh. You don’t count. With your stupidity, you’d be the first to fall behind if we escaped. You wouldn’t survive any of the challenges that come after.”
Jia Renliang: “……”
Wang Sili watched Meng Xizhao scold Jia Renliang, and for some reason, felt an odd sense of satisfaction.
In his mind: So he’s not just like this with me. As long as he’s displeased, he’ll scold anyone!
…
Seeing Jia Renliang embarrassed and nearly withdrawn, Meng Xizhao finally relaxed his shoulders and exhaled heavily. “And it’s not that simple. How we escape is one problem; once we get back, what we do next is another.”
He lifted his eyelids and looked each of the three in turn. “Unless you can come up with a plan tonight to seize horses, find a map, and dash back to Longxing Mansion in one go, the time will be short enough that our disappearance hasn’t yet been reported to the court. If we get back then, it’ll be as if nothing happened. But if you can’t figure it out, just imagine what Yingtian Prefecture will do once they learn we’ve been in Nanzhao for days.”
Wang Sili froze. Putting himself in Meng Xizhao’s shoes, he realized that if he were alone, his first reaction would be elation—but then he’d darkly wonder whether he had been tortured by the Nanzhao, and if he’d become a traitor to Da Qi.
Wang Sili: “…………”
Honestly, Wang Sili knew he wasn’t exactly virtuous, but compared to the officials of Yingtian Prefecture, he genuinely felt rather simple-minded.
In an instant, despair washed over him.
Once Wang Sili grasped the situation, Jia Renliang also came to understand after a moment. As for Xie Yuan, he didn’t even need Meng Xizhao’s prompting—ever since he realized he’d fallen into the hands of the Nanzhao, he knew he was doomed.
Staying in Nanzhao meant certain death. Returning to Qi would be just as fatal.
And there was an eighteen-in-twenty chance his family would also be implicated—maybe even the Crown Prince himself.
So it wasn’t that he was calm; it was that he saw no glimmer of hope and had completely given up.
Jia Renliang nearly cried. He had dreamed of becoming a high-ranking official in Yingtian Prefecture, yet never imagined that the closest he’d been to that world would be being dragged off for judgment.
Helplessly, he looked at Meng Xizhao. “L-Langjun, do we… just accept our fate?”
Meng Xizhao: “Accept what fate? You’ve all heard of my deeds in Xiongnu, haven’t you?”
Jia Renliang and Wang Sili froze, then nodded repeatedly: “Yes, yes, we’ve heard.”
When the Xiongnu’s old Chanyu died, the Crown Prince intended to execute all Qi nationals, but Governor Meng remained calm in the face of danger and saved everyone!
Meng Xizhao smiled faintly, exuding confidence: “Exactly. If I could get out of that situation unscathed, then here, although the circumstances are dangerous, I will come up with a plan. As long as you follow my lead and don’t act on your own, I can protect you.”
In truth, they didn’t entirely believe him, but even hearing someone say it with such certainty brought a measure of reassurance.
Wang Sili wanted to ask for specifics, but Meng Xizhao waved him off, telling him to rest and regain energy. When the plan was executed, they’d see it for themselves.
Since they had decided not to escape immediately, they lay down on the muddy ground, preparing to sleep. Despite the harsh conditions, few complained—they had hardly rested in the past days.
…
Xie Yuan thought of his father and brothers in Yingtian Prefecture, his grandfather who never left home, and the Crown Prince who resembled his aunt. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Finally, unable to bear it, he sat up and groped around the table in the dark.
Soft snoring came from nearby. As he fumbled, a spark appeared—Meng Xizhao had relit the extinguished candle with his firestarter.
The candle burned steadily. The two of them didn’t look at each other first, but instinctively glanced at the two still asleep.
Only Wang Sili turned over, and soon his snoring resumed.
Meng Xizhao: “……”
He never imagined there would be a day he’d envy someone else’s quality of sleep.
Time in the cellar was unknown. Xie Yuan guessed it was around the third watch of the night.
He whispered: “You can’t sleep either?”
Meng Xizhao: “No, I can sleep. Right now, I’m sleepwalking.”
Xie Yuan: “…………”
This was the first time Meng Xizhao had spoken in such a teasing, cryptic manner. Recognizing his inner anxiety, Xie Yuan stayed quiet and comforted him: “You’re clever. As long as you don’t reveal your identity, living in Nanzhao for a while, you’ll find a chance to escape back.”
Meng Xizhao glanced at him: “And you?”
Xie Yuan sat across the candle, its dim light illuminating only half his face. Darkness could reach the eyes, but not the calm smile Xie Yuan wore.
“The moment I set foot on Nanzhao soil, I shouldn’t have planned to return. Don’t worry, I won’t reveal myself. If you make it back, do me a favor—tell them Xie Yuan died on the road to Ningrenfu.”
Meng Xizhao: “……”
He looked at Xie Yuan in silence for a long moment.
Xie Yuan was willing to sacrifice himself, severing ties to protect the others…
Meng Xizhao didn’t know what to say. He disliked self-sacrifice, but he also understood: given the circumstances, this was the best plan to protect the most people.
He might never become a saintly father, but that didn’t stop him from admiring one.
Pressing his lips together, his expression softened. “What I said before wasn’t to deceive you. If we can return, we’ll all go back. If not, then none of us will. Also, what you said earlier isn’t quite right—you’ve never truly set foot on Nanzhao soil. Neither Ganzhou nor the more southern Ningrenfu belongs to Nanzhao—they are ours, Da Qi’s.”
Xie Yuan stared at him in astonishment: “You…”
Meng Xizhao cut him off, lowering his gaze as he spoke to himself: “Even if things go as you imagine, and I manage to escape alone, the fact remains ironclad that I have been in Nanzhao for so long. You should know how suspicious our emperor is. You must have heard how many enemies the Meng family has made by now. The dangers you fear, I fear as well. So if we return, it cannot be a simple return. Otherwise, it would be better to stay like you, letting the court believe we are dead.”
His voice grew heavy with melancholy as he said this.
“Sigh… this time, I really have to seek wealth in the midst of danger.”
Xie Yuan: “…………”
So even back in the Xiongnu, it wasn’t enough?
He was a smart man and understood Meng Xizhao’s meaning. What had seemed a pitch-black future now showed the faintest glimmer of light.
Xie Yuan’s heart burned with determination as he followed Meng Xizhao’s line of thought, thinking of what he could do—but the more he considered it, the colder his heart felt. “The Nanzhao people must be extremely vigilant. Then—”
Meng Xizhao waved a hand. “That doesn’t matter.”
Xie Yuan froze.
That doesn’t matter?
Meng Xizhao sighed again. “For now, the Nanzhao people aren’t a real threat. They already believe I am just a merchant, so at least in terms of our lives, we needn’t worry. But what I fear is that while we follow a methodical plan to save ourselves, something may happen in Qi.”
Xie Yuan didn’t understand. “What could happen in Qi?”
Meng Xizhao looked at him steadily. “You and I both know we were captured by the Nanzhao, and while they do not know who we are, the prefecture office does. They will see the corpses of the clerks and the traces of the struggle. They will immediately realize we were taken by the Nanzhao. What will they do?”
Naturally, they would immediately dispatch troops to pursue. Failing that, they would threaten Nanzhao to return the court officials—or report to the emperor and march directly against them.
Xie Yuan: “…………”
They were doomed.
＊
At the prefecture office, chaos reigned.
That night, they failed to track the Nanzhao agents and had to return. Qingfu, upon learning the prefecture office had been attacked, rushed back—and found Yinliu collapsed in a pool of blood.
The hidden weapon had not struck a fatal spot, but it carried poison.
Qingfu panicked, nearly climbing the roof in desperation, and hurried to fetch a doctor. When the doctor arrived, he did not know how to treat it, so he applied conservative care—stabilizing Yinliu’s meridians to slow the poison’s spread. Meanwhile, Qingfu frantically mounted his horse and rode to Jizhou City to find Teng Kangning.
Lives were at stake. Although Qingfu knew Meng Xizhao had not returned, he could not dwell on that—he entrusted this matter to the militia commander and set off himself.
Even when Teng Kangning returned with Qingfu, Meng Xizhao was still nowhere to be found.
Jinzhu had hurried back as well. Seeing Yinliu in such a feeble state, she said nothing, only instructing Zitong to care for him carefully before joining the soldiers in searching for Meng Xizhao.
As a woman, she endured hardships more than the soldiers, earning their respect rather than obstruction.
By the next day at noon, they found the two horse-drawn carts. Climbing the mountain with the aid of tracking dogs, they discovered the corpses of the clerks.
Some had been partially eaten by wild animals, but enough remained to see the marks of the blades.
The militia commander immediately recognized them. “These are the work of the Nanzhao! I’m sure of it! Then Governor Meng and Assistant Xie were taken by them?!”
The Nanzhao had come for a surprise raid, intending to abduct officials. Now, having succeeded, would they harm the governor?
The commander wanted to summon all forces to rescue Meng Xizhao, but Jinzhu, studying the tracks on the ground, suddenly stood.
“Wait,” she said quickly, meeting the commander’s puzzled gaze.
“Governor Meng went out without official attire, and the clerks say he made everyone change into plain clothes. These few clerks were among them. Didn’t you say Nanzhao’s footprints were everywhere in the office? They probably didn’t recognize the governor, which is why they didn’t act randomly. And if they had known him, they wouldn’t have taken Wang Silin and Jia Zhubu along. Xie Tongzhi was still useful, but why take an extra clerk and administrator unless… the abductions were random?”
The commander stammered. “But if it’s not as you say—”
Jinzhu replied firmly: “If I am wrong, and they meant to harm the governor, the commander rushing in now could make it too late. But if I am right, any rash action could put Meng Xizhao and the others in danger.”
The commander: “……”
Indeed.
Letting Nanzhao enter the office had already been negligence. If he had recklessly gone, and the governor had been killed, no number of lives could make up for it.
After reconsidering, the commander still hesitated. “But if we do nothing, that’s also not an option!”
Jinzhu shook her head. “We’re not doing nothing—just waiting. I will send someone back to seek instructions first.”
The commander asked in confusion, “Instructions from whom?”
Jinzhu pursed her lips, listing the officials in her mind: “The Councilor of State, Duke Wu, the Crown Prince, and His Majesty himself.”
The commander: “…………”
He stammered, “Ah… then we should indeed request instructions.”
…
Descending the mountain, Jinzhu found Qingfu and ordered him to ride a fast military horse back to Tianfu to request reinforcements.
Qingfu nearly leapt in shock. “What?! Is that even possible now? At this point, why go back to Tianfu? I’ll ride straight to Jizhou! Find General Ding and attack Nanzhao to rescue our lord!”
Jinzhu: “…………”
She pinched Qingfu’s ear in frustration. “Are you out of your mind? Without a military order, General Ding can’t just deploy troops! If this matter reaches the emperor’s ears, you could even get General Ding killed! And right now, the situation is uncertain. No one knows how our lord is faring in Nanzhao. Rushing troops there might cost him his life!”
Qingfu covered his ears, feeling wronged. “But… but if you say that, what use is it for me to go to Yingtianfu? We still can’t send troops.”
Jinzhu paused for a moment. “Regardless, this must be reported to the court. Our lord is a third-rank official, the governor of a prefecture, a high-ranking provincial minister. If something happens to him, it’s a serious matter—a major case! Even the emperor will get involved. So you must hurry there, report this to the officials, and explain all the details clearly.”
Qingfu’s eyes reddened as he stared at her, consumed only by concern for Meng Xizhao’s safety. He had never considered what his lord’s rank implied. He nodded dumbly, no longer arguing with her, and asked, “And then?”
Jinzhu: “Then, go tell the Crown Prince about this matter.”
Qingfu: “…Will telling the Crown Prince help?”
Jinzhu didn’t know, but in the current situation, she wanted to grasp any rope she could.
“He is the Crown Prince, and also our lord’s friend. He should be able to help a little.”
Qingfu blinked and nodded. “Alright, I’ll leave at once.”
Qingfu hadn’t slept all night and now had to travel day and night, but Jinzhu had no time to worry about him.
A single poison plot by the Nanzhao had thrown everyone’s plans into chaos.
Whether her lord was still alive, Jinzhu could not confirm. And the Longxing Prefecture could not wait indefinitely for his return.
Once Qingfu reached Yingtianfu, action would have to be taken. With Emperor Tianshou’s temperament, he could wait at most seven days; if by then there was still no word from their lord, he would appoint someone else to take his place. All current accomplishments would then become someone else’s to claim, while her lord might not even have a day to return alive.
Thinking of this, Jinzhu felt as if her heart were being cut, fury burning within her.
Nanzhao—damned Nanzhao!
＊
Qingfu, driven entirely by determination, finally reached Yingtianfu.
Upon entering the inner city, he stumbled back into the Councilor’s office. The Meng family was having dinner, and seeing him in this state, their hearts skipped a beat even before he spoke.
When Qingfu recounted what had happened, Madame Meng stared at him, her chopsticks falling to the floor. She leaned back and fainted.
Meng Jiao-jiao rushed to support her mother, her cries echoing as she did.
Seeing his mother collapse, the second brother, unable to distinguish between grief and panic, was equally distraught.
Meng Canzheng could not even attend to his wife, his bloodshot eyes shooting a glance at her before striding to Qingfu and demanding, “What exactly happened? Explain clearly!”
Meng Xizhang also approached. The county lord squatted beside Meng Jiao-jiao, holding her shoulders, anxious as well.
Following Jinzhu’s instructions, Qingfu recounted everything he knew, including Jinzhu’s concerns. Meng Jiuyu and Meng Xizhang exchanged a glance. Without a word, they immediately went to change clothes, preparing to enter the palace.
Meanwhile, Qingfu wiped his sweat and raced off again to find the Crown Prince.
It was the rainy season; everywhere was soaked.
Cui Ye stood by the window, watching the curtain-like rainfall, restless for no reason.
Suddenly, he heard hurried footsteps outside. He instinctively turned, and Yu Fulan—who had just returned to Yingtianfu a few days ago—burst in without ceremony.
He had been anxious, but seeing Cui Ye, he grew even more nervous, swallowing the words on his lips.
Cui Ye furrowed his brows. “What’s wrong? Why the rush?”
…
After Yu Fulan repeated Qingfu’s account, Cui Ye stood frozen, staring at him, unresponsive for a long moment.
Yu Fulan looked at him cautiously. “Your Highness?”
Two more seconds passed before Cui Ye suddenly moved, storming out. Yu Fulan hesitated, then hurried after him. “Your Highness, the umbrella—it’s still raining outside!”
Cui Ye ran swiftly, with even the palace attendants struggling to keep up, their faces drawn. This was the first time they had seen the Crown Prince move so fast since his arrival at the Eastern Palace.
The umbrella was useless. Fortunately, the rain in Yingtianfu was just a fine drizzle, not as heavy as in the south.
Ignoring the attendants from Emperor Tianshou’s quarters, Cui Ye entered the hall directly. As he crossed the threshold, he heard the emperor speak.
“Really?! Ah… then sending troops now to attack Ganzhou—morale must be soaring!”
Cui Ye’s eyes shot up sharply. His usually calm gaze now held a faint glimmer of killing intent.