Night fell, and the lanterns were just beginning to glow.
Outside Shuyu Pavilion, the streets were already bustling with carriages and horses. One sedan chair after another arrived at the entrance, while lanterns hung high overhead, bathing half the street in a warm, golden haze.
Inside the pavilion, music and singing filled the air. The sounds of strings and flutes mingled with laughter and the fragrance of wine, spilling through the intricately carved windows. It was a scene of extravagant splendor, where pleasure and indulgence reigned supreme.
Yet tonight, Shuyu Pavilion was more unsettled than usual.
Although dignitaries and nobles came and went every day, today’s commotion was different.
Several royal residence guards dressed in fitted black uniforms entered in a solemn procession. Their steps were swift and orderly as they efficiently cleared every obstacle from the corridors and passageways. They said nothing, yet their imposing presence was enough to make the guests step aside without daring to ask a single question.
Before long, a carriage lacquered entirely in black came to a slow stop outside.
On either side of the carriage were gold-inlaid seal-script characters reading Yi. Each character was encircled by a pair of golden chi-dragon patterns, their heads held high as the lantern light glinted off their luxurious golden sheen.
The wheels were red-painted, with thick, reinforced rims, and their hubs were wrapped in copper foil. As they turned, dark red and golden light intermingled.
At the center of the roof, a princely banner in a deep, purplish shade of bone conch fluttered gently in the breeze.
Silver threads embroidered into the banner formed the faint outline of a coiling python, its body twisting like clouds and radiating an imposing majesty.
The guards had already formed ranks on either side, surrounding the carriage protectively.
The curtain was lifted, and Xiao Ying stepped out.
His gait was unhurried, his expression languid. He made no effort to conceal his identity or pretend to keep a low profile. He simply walked through the main entrance of Shuyu Pavilion as naturally as though he were entering his own backyard.
Hearing the commotion, the people inside turned to see which important figure had arrived.
When they saw him, they discovered it was none other than Prince Yi, whose name was renowned throughout the capital and whose behavior had long been notorious for its debauchery.
To the many powerful men in this den of indulgence who favored handsome men and admired refined beauty, Xiao Ying was undoubtedly an unattainable beauty beyond their wildest dreams.
Those peach-blossom eyes, shimmering with a watery gleam, had perfectly inherited the features of Consort Wan, who had once been the most beautiful woman in the imperial harem.
And the lofty, untouchable air of a man born into the highest echelons of the imperial family was like a hook coated in poison, leaving anyone who looked at him itching with desire.
Although everyone was practically drooling over him, not a single person dared to cross the line.
The guards silently took up positions on either side of Xiao Ying, their eyes sweeping the surroundings like those of hawks. Anyone who so much as made a suspicious move would be courting death.
Everyone present was a seasoned player in the world of the powerful and privileged. Naturally, they understood where this invisible boundary lay.
All they could do was hold their breath and watch from a distance, their gazes following the purple figure as he walked down the corridor and disappeared into the depths of the lantern-lit shadows.
Everyone knew perfectly well why Xiao Ying had come. After all, who in the entire capital had not heard the rumors about Prince Yi and Yue Xijun, Shuyu Pavilion’s most sought-after male courtesan?
Today, Xiao Ying had not brought any of his usual companions. He went straight to Juyue Courtyard, the innermost part of Shuyu Pavilion.
This was Yue Xijun’s private reception area, a secluded courtyard of its own. Quiet and peaceful, it had been specially designed to provide both privacy and soundproofing. Outsiders would find it extremely difficult to spy or eavesdrop here, making it the safest and most isolated space in the entire pavilion.
The door was half closed, and incense drifted lazily through the room.
“Yue Xi greets Your Highness.”
Upon seeing his visitor, Yue Xijun rose and bowed with elegant composure.
His demeanor remained neither warm nor cold, his gentleness tempered by just the right amount of politeness and distance.
It was one of the ways he maintained his value and prolonged his career as a top-tier commodity in the pleasure quarters.
He never allowed his clients to develop the illusion that they had completely possessed him too soon.
After all, what one could never obtain would forever stir desire in one’s heart.
Xiao Ying was long accustomed to his cool demeanor. He leaned back against the soft couch and immediately let out a long sigh.
“Yue Xi, I’ve come here today with a belly full of grievances, specifically to cry on your shoulder.”
Yue Xijun sat down beside him. His gaze swept over Xiao Ying’s handsome, radiant face, which showed not the slightest trace of grievance, but he still played along with a gentle voice.
“Oh? What sort of grievance has Your Highness suffered? From what I can see, the only person under heaven capable of making Your Highness feel wronged is probably His Majesty.”
After all, aside from the Emperor, no one could order around this idle prince who lived off the imperial treasury without doing a thing.
Xiao Ying nodded solemnly, even forcing a hint of sorrow into his brows.
“You’re absolutely right. Father issued an edict today ordering me to report to the Imperial Clan Court tomorrow and organize its old archives. Just thinking about going to that place, with its cobwebs everywhere and dust choking the air, to read a pile of tedious records that no one has touched for centuries, is enough to make me miserable. Life hardly seems worth living. That’s why I’ve come here to drown my sorrows in wine.”
At the mention of the Imperial Clan Court, Yue Xijun’s hand paused slightly as he poured the wine, and a thought stirred in his mind.
The Emperor had actually assigned a task to a prince who had made no effort to improve himself for years?
The Imperial Clan Court was an extremely unusual institution.
It had no military power, no financial authority, and no formal discretion over government affairs. On the surface, it seemed entirely harmless. Yet it housed the imperial family’s most important and sensitive genealogies and secrets, accumulated over generations.
For that very reason, its key positions had always been held by imperial princes and senior members of the royal clan, while routine tasks such as copying records, verifying family registers, and organizing files were left to its clerks.
The Emperor could not possibly have assigned Xiao Ying to organize old records because he trusted him.
Without betraying a hint of his thoughts, Yue Xijun pushed the filled wine cup toward Xiao Ying and said softly, “Since His Majesty has ordered you to organize old files at the Imperial Clan Court, it can hardly be considered a difficult assignment. If His Majesty truly wanted to punish you, he could send you to the Ministry of Revenue to sort through that mountain of rotten accounts, or to the Ministry of Works to verify its inventories. Failing that, he could always send you to the Court of Imperial Sacrifices to run errands for those notoriously difficult senior members of the royal clan.”
“I am a prince of the imperial bloodline!”
Xiao Ying rapped the table in displeasure. “And yet Father has ordered me to organize those wretched old files! He might as well send me to guard the imperial mausoleums. At least I’d have some peace and quiet there!”
Watching him become more and more engrossed in his performance, Yue Xijun simply raised his eyes and cut straight to the point.
“Your Highness has made such a grand entrance tonight to come here and ‘complain’ to me. I presume it’s because you want an excuse to be late for work tomorrow by claiming to have a terrible hangover. And while you’re at it, you want everyone in the capital to know just how much you dislike going to that dreadful place, so you’ve deliberately come here to put on this little show. Am I right?”
With his intentions exposed so bluntly, Xiao Ying was not the least bit annoyed.
The corners of his lips curled upward. He picked up his wine cup and took a leisurely sip.
“It’s true that I don’t want to look at those tedious, boring things. And it’s also true that I don’t want to go.”
He was accustomed to a carefree life of late nights and late mornings, spending his days indulging in pleasure. Having to get up early every day to report for duty at the Imperial Clan Court would indeed be genuine torture for him.
But then the amusement in his eyes faded. He gently set down his cup and finally spoke in earnest.
“However, I have reasons I cannot afford to ignore.”
“His Majesty isn’t granting Your Highness any real authority with this appointment.”
Yue Xijun raised his eyes slightly and calmly analyzed the situation for him.
“There may be several motives behind this edict. First, His Majesty wants to see what Your Highness will do with those records once you enter the Imperial Clan Court. Perhaps he doesn’t particularly care what you discover. What he cares about is whom you choose to investigate first. This is a test.”
Xiao Ying gave a slight nod without interrupting, waiting for him to continue.
“Second, His Majesty may intend to use your actions to put pressure on certain people. For example… the Crown Prince, who sits securely in the Eastern Palace.”
Xiao Ying could not help letting out a soft laugh. A note of appreciation flashed through his peach-blossom eyes.
“You live in the pleasure quarters, yet you’re better informed about court affairs than almost anyone else.”
Yue Xijun merely replied, “Your Highness isn’t the only one who has come here tonight.”
Shuyu Pavilion was, after all, one of the capital’s many densely connected crossroads of power.
Ignoring the teasing remark, he continued.
“As for the third possibility, His Majesty’s position alone makes it difficult for him to have anyone he can truly trust. Now, a secret edict issued personally by him has become common knowledge throughout the capital. That means even among the handful of people he considers ‘trustworthy,’ a traitor has already infiltrated his ranks.”
Yue Xijun gazed into Xiao Ying’s eyes and spoke slowly.
“So His Majesty will no longer investigate through the people around him. If those he trusted can no longer be trusted, then he needs to find someone whom others see no reason to investigate and have no reason to guard against. Someone who can serve as his eyes.”
Xiao Ying raised an eyebrow and pointed at his own nose.
“You mean… I look like a suitable pair of new eyes?”
“Your Highness’s usual conduct certainly doesn’t suggest it,” Yue Xijun replied coolly.
“Which is precisely why I’m safe.”
Yue Xijun laid out his reasoning methodically.
“At present, outsiders see Your Highness as unaffiliated with any faction. You command no troops, show no signs of building a personal following, and appear to have no ambitions whatsoever. You’re also the only adult prince without an official post. From His Majesty’s perspective, Your Highness happens to fall within a category of ‘temporarily safe.’ You’re a blade he can discard at any time.”
Xiao Ying could not help giving a bitter smile.
“Then I suppose I should thank His Majesty for his boundless grace. Your analysis seems to reveal more about my father’s thoughts than I, his own son, know.”
He lowered his eyes slightly, already forming new ideas and plans in his mind.
“Understanding our clients’ thoughts is simply a basic skill of surviving in our line of work.”
Yue Xijun lowered his long eyelashes slightly, concealing the mockery in his eyes.
“It’s not that Yue Xi understands emperors. I simply understand the suspicions of those in high positions, as well as the darker and more fragile sides of human nature.”
Xiao Ying’s long fingers tapped idly against the rim of his wine cup. Then he tipped his head back and drained the remaining wine.
Yue Xijun poured him another cup and asked, “Your Highness insists on entering the Imperial Clan Court. Is there some old case you wish to investigate?”
“There are a few questions that have been lingering in my mind. I want to see whether I can find any clues in the archives.”
Xiao Ying raised his eyes to look at him.
“You’re well connected. You must have heard about Consort Zhao’s sudden death from an acute illness, haven’t you?”
“I’ve heard a little. Do you suspect there was something suspicious about her illness?”
“I can’t say for certain yet, but there are irregularities everywhere.”
Xiao Ying’s voice grew solemn.
“An informant reported that she may already have been pregnant before she died. Yet the medical records kept by the Imperial Medical Academy make no mention of it whatsoever.”
Yue Xijun considered this for a moment before replying, “A woman in the first three months of pregnancy would naturally want to keep it quiet. In the imperial harem, where every step is fraught with danger, that would be even more important. Consort Zhao was once greatly favored by His Majesty, so she would have been especially cautious. Perhaps she bribed someone at the Imperial Medical Academy and deliberately had the records erased?”
“That’s certainly one possibility.”
Yue Xijun fell silent in thought for a moment.
“I’ve heard two different accounts concerning Consort Zhao. One says she died of an acute illness. The other… came from someone who often pours wine for a certain official at the Imperial Medical Academy. According to that person, the consort summoned imperial physicians twice before her death. Not long after the second visit, the elderly matron who had served her was suddenly taken ill and died.”
Xiao Ying’s gaze turned cold.
“Exactly. And after Consort Zhao died, her most capable personal maid also disappeared under mysterious circumstances.”
Yue Xijun’s expression sharpened.
“That certainly sounds suspicious. However…”
He paused, seemingly weighing his words.
“If it were only Consort Zhao, it might be a coincidence. But if the birth mothers of other princes had experienced similar circumstances over the past several decades…”
Xiao Ying stopped with his wine cup in hand, his gaze shifting slightly toward him.
Yue Xijun did not elaborate. He merely said softly, “I’ve heard of several similar incidents. But rumors from the pleasure quarters are always a mixture of truth and falsehood, so I wouldn’t dare use them as evidence. Still, if they’re true, then this isn’t simply a matter of one woman dying. It means someone has been deciding which women are allowed to live.”
That was precisely what Xiao Ying had suspected.
“Someone has alerted me to the possibility that an invisible hand may be secretly ‘pruning the branches’ of the imperial family.”
Xiao Ying’s eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a sharpness utterly unlike the frivolous prince he usually appeared to be.
Yue Xijun was secretly startled. If this were true, it would be no small matter.
He quickly sifted through and organized the tangled web of information in his mind before speaking softly.
“Indeed. The princes’ factions each have their own calculations, but none of them can truly stand against the Eastern Palace. And that is what makes this so strange…”
“What is strange about it?” Xiao Ying asked deliberately.
“The Crown Prince is the Empress’s eldest legitimate son. He possesses every advantage of birth and status. Although he hasn’t accomplished anything particularly outstanding over the years, he has governed himself moderately and hasn’t committed any serious blunder that could threaten his position as heir. As long as he doesn’t rebel, he can almost certainly ascend the throne safely one day, even if no one secretly ‘prunes the branches’ for him.”
“That is precisely why I have to enter the Imperial Clan Court.”
Xiao Ying narrowed his eyes, a sharpness emerging that was completely at odds with his usual playboy persona.
“This person acts with such caution, yet is willing to risk the extermination of their entire family by secretly ‘pruning the branches.’ What, exactly, is their true objective?”
What he found most incomprehensible was what reason could possibly justify taking such an enormous risk to do these things.
Yue Xijun spoke slowly.
“Whoever is wielding those scissors must have an objective that goes beyond simply putting the Crown Prince on the throne.”
He looked at Xiao Ying, a trace of doubt and alarm in his eyes.
“Could this person have some compelling reason why the Crown Prince absolutely must ascend the throne?”
Xiao Ying pondered silently.
Those old foxes in the Crown Prince’s faction had already invested all their resources in him. Of course they desperately wanted him to take the throne.
But they would not go so far as to employ such dangerous methods.
The room fell briefly silent.
The dark clouds hanging over the imperial court were too heavy. Xiao Ying did not pursue the topic further. Instead, he changed the subject and brought up something that had long weighed on Yue Xijun’s heart.
“As for your younger sister, I’ve already sent people to investigate.”
Yue Xijun’s hand did not pause as he poured the wine, and his expression remained perfectly calm. Yet in those eyes that were usually so unruffled, a flicker of urgency involuntarily surfaced.
In an instant, the face of an eleven-year-old girl appeared in his mind: lively and sweet, always following him around and calling him Second Brother.
If she were still alive, she would be fourteen now.
Was she doing well?
Had anyone bullied her?
Where had she ended up?
He knew nothing.
He had been investigating in secret for three years. But since he could not leave Shuyu Pavilion himself, nor openly ask questions about her, he had yet to find a trace of his sister.
“I had Lan Ningcheng secretly examine the register of those punished when the Wu family was confiscated,” Xiao Ying said slowly, looking at him. “Her name wasn’t on it.”
Yue Xijun’s younger sister was Wu Shiqing.
From the day the Wu family fell, she had seemingly vanished from the face of the earth.
The register, a document symbolizing death and humiliation, did not record that she had been executed. It did not state that she had been entered into the registry of household slaves. It did not even mark her as missing.
The only thing recorded beside her name was the cold, impersonal phrase: unknown.
Although the authorities occasionally conducted follow-up inquiries as required by procedure, they could never determine her whereabouts, and the matter was eventually abandoned.
An eleven-year-old daughter of an official had vanished into thin air on the very day her family was confiscated, despite the heavy security surrounding the operation, yet she had never been registered as a slave?
Xiao Ying had long since considered the possibilities.
Either someone had hidden her away in advance, or someone had secretly helped her escape during the confiscation and spirited her away.
Alternatively, someone had tampered with the confiscation register itself.
For that reason, Xiao Ying had not asked Lan Ningcheng to investigate who was suspicious. Instead, he had changed his approach and sought to discover which servants, stewards, guards, wet nurses, and coachmen connected to the Wu family had suddenly disappeared after the family’s downfall.
When the Wu family was ruined, most of its servants had been confiscated and sold by the authorities or sent to serve in the military. But there were always a few who slipped through the net.
“I traced the network of people connected to the Wu family and compiled a list.”
Xiao Ying took a folded sheet of rice paper from his sleeve and handed it to Yue Xijun.
It was the preliminary result of the investigations and careful screening conducted over the past several days.
Yue Xijun took the paper and unfolded it.
Six names were listed.
He remembered every one of them.
As he looked at those familiar names, the bloody memories of the day his family was confiscated surged uncontrollably back into his mind.
The disaster had struck without the slightest warning.
He and his elder brother had been out together. The moment they stepped through the gates of their home, soldiers descended on them like wolves and pinned them to the ground.
The courtyard was in complete disarray. His mother’s beloved dressing case, his father’s treasured Duan inkstone, the cloth tiger that had sat beside his little sister’s bed… All had been roughly thrown into large chests bearing official seals.
The household servants had been gathered in the front courtyard, strung together with thick hemp rope.
He recognized several faces among them: the matron who combed his hair every day, the guard who had taught him archery, and the young servant who was always sneaking into the kitchen to steal pastries.
He had been dragged away from his mother’s desperate grasp and his father’s despairing gaze, then roughly shoved into a prison cart.
Just as the curtain fell, he saw with his own eyes the imperial plaque bestowed upon their family being torn down and carelessly trampled into the mud.
Because he was underage, he had narrowly escaped execution, but he had been stripped of his dignity as a man.
Yet from beginning to end, he had never seen his sister among the captured.
Countless times, he had awoken from dreams in the middle of the night and felt grateful that she had not been caught.
He could not even bear to imagine the living hell a sheltered young lady from an official family would face if she were registered as a slave.
Yue Xijun drew a deep breath and forcibly composed himself. His slender finger pointed to three names on the paper, one of which belonged to a household guard named Shi Yi.
“These three were servants who were extremely loyal to my family. The other three were merely common laborers hired later to perform odd jobs around the household.”
Xiao Ying lowered his gaze to the three names and said solemnly, “All three you identified are currently listed as having ‘unknown whereabouts.’ No local authority has a record of their deaths, nor is there any household registration document indicating that they returned to their places of origin.”
Yue Xijun’s heart tightened.
“Could they have been murdered to silence them back then?”
“No corresponding bodies were found in the mass graves or public mortuaries,” Xiao Ying replied calmly. “If they escaped amid the chaos back then…”
Yue Xijun froze.
If Shi Yi and the others had escaped, whom would they have taken with them, given their loyalty?
He suddenly raised his head, a look of disbelief flashing through his eyes.
“My younger sister… Could one of them have taken her away?”
“That is only a hypothesis for now.”
Xiao Ying pushed the paper back toward him.
“I’ll have Lan Ningcheng continue investigating those three. Write down their physical descriptions and the people they associated with in the past. That will help me send people to dig deeper.”
Yue Xijun held the thin sheet of paper as though it were the only lifeline left to him in the darkness.
He rose to his feet and bowed deeply to Xiao Ying, his voice trembling slightly.
“Yue Xi… thanks Your Highness. I will repay this immense kindness in the future, even if it means giving my life.”
Xiao Ying raised the still-folded fan in his hand, stopping him from bowing further.
“Don’t thank me just yet. We have a list of names, but the world is vast. If those people are deliberately hiding, it’ll take time to find where they’ve settled. Once I’ve brought all three of them to you alive and well, then you can owe me this favor.”
Yue Xijun did not take the opportunity to straighten up. He remained solemn.
“Whatever the final outcome, Your Highness has been willing to go to such lengths over an old case concerning Yue Xi. I have already engraved this kindness in my heart.”
“All right, get up. It’s not as though I’m helping you without any ulterior motive.”
Xiao Ying withdrew his fan.
“As long as you continue doing your job well for me, that will be the best repayment.”
Yue Xijun straightened and looked at Xiao Ying. The prince appeared carefree and debonair, yet there was a trace of awkwardness in his eyes. The faintest smile lifted the corners of Yue Xijun’s lips.
He turned and walked into the inner room. From the bottom of an exquisite jewelry box, he retrieved a somewhat worn little brocade pouch and handed it to Xiao Ying.
Xiao Ying took the pouch and tipped its contents into his palm.
A small piece of black jade fell out.
The jade itself was only of ordinary quality, and its carving was somewhat crude. It looked like the sort of little pendant an ordinary family might give a child to play with. In a place like Shuyu Pavilion, where gold and jade were everywhere, it even seemed a little shabby.
But Xiao Ying noticed a single character, Jiu (玖), carved neatly into the back.
“This is the only thing I secretly kept on me when my family was confiscated,” Yue Xijun said softly.
Xiao Ying gently rubbed his thumb over the character.
It was Yue Xijun’s original name.
For someone who had lost his family, his dignity, and even his name, this inexpensive piece of black jade was the only link he had left to his past.
“Why are you giving something so important to me?”
“If Your Highness truly finds her one day…”
Yue Xijun lowered his eyes, concealing the pain surging beneath them.
“Please give her this jade pendant and tell her… ‘Your Second Brother is still alive.’ That will be enough.”
Xiao Ying caught the unspoken meaning behind his words and frowned slightly.
“You don’t want to see her in person?”
“I don’t want to… put her in an embarrassing position.”
Yue Xijun’s voice was very soft, yet filled with an indescribable bitterness.
He was the son of a disgraced official, and now he was a prized possession in the pleasure quarters, selling his beauty to survive.
Even though he remained a courtesan who had not yet entertained clients sexually, the stigma attached to him could never be erased.
Even if Xiao Ying eventually cleared the Wu family’s name, what respectable family would dare marry Yue Xijun’s sister with a brother like him, whose reputation had been dragged through the mud?
He would only condemn her to a lifetime of gossip and humiliation, never allowing her to hold her head high.
He had neither the face nor the right to see her.
Looking at Yue Xijun’s self-loathing expression, Xiao Ying’s tone suddenly turned grave. He pinpointed the fear buried deep within his heart.
“You’re afraid of more than just embarrassing her.”
Yue Xijun’s body stiffened slightly.
“You’re even more afraid that when she sees what you’ve become, she’ll think the pure and blameless Second Brother she remembers is already dead. You don’t dare face the look in her eyes when she discovers that Wu Jiuling has become Yue Xijun. Isn’t that right?”
Yue Xijun stiffened again. His head hung low, his long eyelashes trembling faintly, but he could not utter a single word.
Xiao Ying used his fan to lift Yue Xijun’s chin. The force was gentle, yet there was no room for refusal as he made him raise his head and look him in the eye.
The eyes that Yue Xijun usually kept so perfectly composed were now filled with pain.
Under the scrutiny of those sharp peach-blossom eyes, Yue Xijun lasted less than three breaths before losing the battle and turning his gaze away in disarray.
“Your Highness…”
Xiao Ying withdrew his fan and looked at him coldly.
“Your parents’ deaths were not your fault. Being sold into servitude was not your fault. And staying at Shuyu Pavilion to survive was certainly not your fault.”
Xiao Ying’s voice was not loud, but every word struck Yue Xijun’s heart.
“If someone looks down on Wu Shiqing because of your past, then they are the ones at fault! If even you believe yourself guilty, what would be the point of clearing your family’s name?”
Yue Xijun bit his lower lip so hard it nearly bled.
“Yue Xi… understands.”
“Jiuling.”
Xiao Ying addressed him directly by his real name.
“Your attention shouldn’t be limited to uncovering the truth and finding your sister.”
His tone softened slightly, though it still carried the weight of a reprimand.
“You should start thinking about your own future. Give serious thought to what path you will take if your family’s name is cleared one day. Your road is destined to be a hundred times more difficult than an ordinary person’s. There will inevitably be countless people who use the name ‘Yue Xijun’ to trample you underfoot. If you don’t prepare the way ahead of time, then when that day finally comes, you won’t be able to protect yourself, much less your sister.”
Yue Xijun stared at Xiao Ying in a daze.
After a long while, the sorrow and humiliation in his eyes receded like a retreating tide, replaced by a brightness born of acceptance.
Suddenly, he looked at Xiao Ying and smiled softly.
It was not the artificial smile he usually wore to please clients, calculated down to the exact curve and degree of warmth. This was a genuine, moving smile from someone who had finally lowered his guard.
The unexpected smile caught Xiao Ying off guard for a moment. He furrowed his brows.
“What are you smiling at?”
Yue Xijun immediately suppressed the smile, returning to his usual cool demeanor. He said solemnly, “Your Highness’s admonition is entirely correct. Yue Xi… will give serious thought to the future.”
He did not explain why he had smiled.
He simply found himself thinking that Prince Yi, whom the entire capital regarded as a ridiculous wastrel, might actually be the clearest-minded and most compassionate person in the entire imperial city.
Seeing that Yue Xijun did not wish to explain, Xiao Ying raised an eyebrow but did not press him on such trivial details.
He merely said, “I’ll keep this jade for you for the time being. If we find your sister, it’ll serve as a token to prove your identity. As for the message, I’m not going to deliver it on your behalf. You’ll have to tell her yourself, face-to-face.”
As he spoke, he reached for the wine jug on the table, intending to refill his cup.
A pale hand pressed down on the jug.
Yue Xijun gently advised him, “Your Highness still has to report for duty at the Imperial Clan Court tomorrow. If you drink too much tonight, you’ll probably wake up with another terrible hangover.”
“That’s fine. In fact, you could say getting a hangover is exactly what I want.”
Xiao Ying poured himself a full cup without a care.
“I intend to arrive at the Imperial Clan Court reeking of alcohol, so that my imperial uncle can see for himself just how utterly ridiculous and useless his nephew really is.”
That Prince Gong, who remained hidden in the depths of the Imperial Clan Court, had survived the bloody struggles over succession back in the day. He was one of the few sons of the late Emperor who had managed to survive the machinations of the current Emperor.
How could someone who had emerged unscathed from such a slaughterhouse possibly be an ordinary man?
Xiao Ying had to make his playboy disguise even more convincing.
Seeing that he had already made up his mind, Yue Xijun stopped trying to dissuade him.
He rose and walked over to the ancient guzheng beside the window, settling gracefully in front of it.
Xiao Ying casually asked, “How is your flute playing?”
Yue Xijun merely replied, “I haven’t touched the flute in three years, so I wouldn’t dare embarrass myself by playing it carelessly. Once I’ve practiced enough to play properly again, I’ll perform for Your Highness.”
“Play whenever you feel like it. I’m not going to force you.”
At those words, Yue Xijun’s hands stopped moving. He glanced up at Xiao Ying, and when he saw that the prince was drinking as casually as ever, he looked away.
He raised his delicate hands and plucked the strings.
The clear, ethereal notes of the guzheng poured through the room like flowing water, washing away the clamor of the mortal world and temporarily soothing the bloodless blades flashing across the imperial court.
Xiao Ying leaned halfway against the couch, drinking cup after cup of mellow wine.
At first, he had thought that he was becoming involved in court politics and painstakingly plotting his moves simply because he did not want to die amid hidden daggers and open hostility.
But somewhere along the way, he had taken too many people’s lives into his hands.
His birth mother.
Lan Ningcheng.
Yue Xijun, who was playing the guzheng.
Even Wu Shiqing, whom he had never met and whose whereabouts remained unknown…
All of them had become people whose fates were tied to his.
Amid the melodious music, Xiao Ying lowered his eyes slightly and watched the wine trembling in his cup.
It seemed that he truly could not afford to die halfway down this road.
Since the Emperor wanted to use him, he might as well turn the tables and serve as the Emperor’s eyes for the time being.
The Emperor wanted to know what he was investigating. Then Xiao Ying would give him an answer worth watching.
◇◆◇◆◇
In a remote mountain region, an old wooden house, long since fallen into ruin, stood silently amid the blowing sand.
The interior was dim, and the wind seeped through the cracks in the walls.
A young girl wore a coarse, old garment patched with pieces of fabric in mismatched colors. The rough hemp cloth rubbed against her delicate skin, causing waves of itching and discomfort. Yet she seemed so accustomed to it that she did not even furrow her brows.
She was crouching beside a low wooden stool, holding a charred piece of charcoal between her slender fingers. On half a thin wooden board, she was painstakingly writing the character Qing (æ™´), stroke by crooked stroke.
She was intensely focused, as though afraid she might forget how to write it.
Black charcoal dust stained her pale fingertips.
After completing the final stroke, the girl stopped. She lifted a pair of beautiful, bright eyes. Deep within those eyes, which should have been carefree and innocent, lay a profound sorrow utterly out of keeping with her age.
She turned toward the desolate wilderness beyond the window and let out a soft sigh.
Creak—
The dilapidated wooden door swung open, and a burly man with a weathered face walked inside.
Without saying a word, he silently unwrapped a sheet of oiled paper and held out two ordinary steamed buns, freshly purchased and still faintly warm, to the girl.
She accepted them. As she looked at the white but slightly tough dough in her hands, her thoughts drifted involuntarily back to a time long, long ago.
Back then, she had been the cherished little daughter of a wealthy and powerful household, treasured in the palms of everyone’s hands.
Whatever pastries she wanted to eat, her mother would patiently make for her herself. Whatever toys she wanted, her father would bring home with a smile after returning from court.
And then there were her two older brothers…
Her eldest brother loved teasing her, while her second brother was the gentlest of all. He would hold her hand and teach her to recognize characters and paint on sheets of expensive rice paper.
Back then, even if the clothes she wore were not the finest silk and brocade currently in fashion in the capital, they would certainly never have been coarse hemp garments like the ones she wore now, rough enough to redden and irritate her skin.
Three whole years had passed since she had left home.
She had moved repeatedly, changing her place of residence time and again.
Three years ago, Uncle Shi had told her, “The master and madam have merely gone away temporarily on important business. They’ll come and take you home very soon, Miss.”
But she had been hearing that same comforting lie for three years now.
It was time for this “lie” to end.
The girl slowly placed the buns back on the table.
She put away the nostalgia in her eyes. When she raised her head, her gaze was serious and composed as she looked at the man who had cared for her for the past three years.
“Uncle Shi, you don’t have to lie to me anymore.”
Her voice was clear, but it carried a sharpness that left no room for evasion.
“I know my parents aren’t coming to take me home. Tell me the truth. What happened to them? And what about my eldest brother and my second brother?”
She was fourteen now. She was no longer the innocent little child who could be easily fooled with some hastily invented excuse.
The man’s body shook violently.
He looked at the face before him, so strikingly similar to those of his former master and mistress. His eyes instantly reddened. No longer able to bear the weight of his guilt and grief, he fell to his knees with a heavy thud, crashing down onto the muddy ground.
“I’m sorry, Miss!” he choked out. “This subordinate was incompetent! I failed to protect the master and madam, and I also failed to fulfill the master’s final instructions!”
Those words struck the girl in the chest like a heavy hammer.
Her heart sank abruptly, and the last shred of hope she had clung to was completely extinguished.
Her suspicions had been correct. Her parents… truly were no longer alive.
The embrace her mother had given her on the day they parted had been her final moment of warmth.
Bitterness surged into her nose.
Her eyes burned, and tears threatened to spill over, but she bit down hard on her lower lip, forcibly suppressing them.
She drew a deep breath of dusty air and asked, forcing herself to remain calm,
“…What exactly did Father say back then?”
The man kneeling on the ground raised his head and wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. He then recounted, word by word, the sudden catastrophe and tragedy that had befallen the family all those years ago.
At the end, his voice was filled with endless regret and a faint glimmer of hope.
“Everything happened too quickly back then. Even at the risk of my life, I only managed to get you out of the encirclement, Miss. I couldn’t save the eldest young master, nor could I take the second young master away… But afterward, I risked my life to check the official notices. The second young master wasn’t listed as having been executed. He might… he might still be alive!”
…Second Brother was still alive?!
The news was like a ray of dawn, instantly illuminating the girl’s cold heart.
She clenched her fists and asked urgently, “Where would he have gone? How does the court deal with the children of officials whose families have been confiscated?”
The man pondered before answering, “If the male children of disgraced officials are underage and spared the death penalty, most are registered as slaves of the government and sold to powerful families, or sent to the frontier to serve in the army…”
“No. He absolutely couldn’t have been sent to the army.”
The girl immediately interrupted him. After thinking for a moment, her gaze grew increasingly clear and resolute.
“Since childhood, Second Brother couldn’t even wield a blade or draw a bow, let alone lift anything heavy. All he knows is poetry, books, playing the qin, and painting. Besides… Second Brother was exceptionally handsome.”
Looking at the man, she analyzed the situation with almost chilling detachment.
“Those shrewd slave brokers and officials aren’t fools. Sending Second Brother to the frontier as a soldier would bring them no benefit. But if they sold his exquisite looks, musical talent, and refinement to a place where powerful men go to seek pleasure and listen to music… they could fetch the highest price.”
The man was stunned. Then he suddenly understood what she meant.
A place where powerful men went to listen to music and enjoy themselves… Wasn’t that one of the capital’s male courtesan houses or pleasure quarters?!
He was deeply shocked. He had never imagined that a young lady of only fourteen could deduce so much from such a small clue.
But when he considered that the once noble and upright second young master might have fallen into such a pit of degradation, the guilt and anguish in his heart deepened.
The girl, however, gave him no time to wallow in self-reproach. She continued giving instructions.
“With Second Brother’s looks, musical talent, and learning, he could never be an obscure nobody, no matter where he ended up. He would certainly be the most eye-catching person there. Uncle Shi, go and make inquiries. Among the capital’s most prestigious dens of indulgence, has someone like him appeared in the past three years?”
The man looked up at the girl before him. Her eyes were red, but her gaze was incomparably firm and composed.
In her, he seemed to see the image of her former master, who had remained calm and collected in the face of danger.
The heart that had been despairing for three years miraculously began to burn with hope once more.
“This subordinate understands!” The man knocked his forehead heavily against the ground. “I’ll make inquiries at once!”
With that, he rose and hurried out into the blowing sand, carrying his determination with him.
The dilapidated house fell silent once more.
The girl sat alone on the low stool, staring in the direction the man had disappeared. After a long while, she slowly reached out and picked up the now-cold steamed bun on the table.
She opened her mouth and took a bite.
The dry flour caught in her throat, bringing a painful, sour sensation.
In the next instant, the tears she had held back for three whole years could no longer be contained. They came crashing down like a burst dam, pattering onto the cold bun and the back of her hand, which was stained with charcoal dust.
She covered her mouth with her hand, desperately trying not to make a sound. But broken, despairing sobs still escaped between her fingers, and her body shook violently with each one.
Three whole years…
She had waited for three whole years, clinging to that final, naive hope.
In the end, her parents never came to take her home by the hand. Instead, she had received the cruel truth that both her parents and her eldest brother were already dead.
Tears blurred her vision.
As she wept silently, the girl forced herself to swallow large mouthfuls of the cold bun.
She could not collapse.
Since her second brother was still alive… then no matter what happened, she had to keep living bravely until the day she found him and brought him home.
Even if their family could never be restored to what it once was, at least… she was not alone in this world.