The wind sweeping across Wild Goose Return Plain carried the grit unique to the northern frontier wastelands, scraping against the canvas of the military tents with a coarse, rustling sound.
It was now the third day since the army had established camp at Wild Goose Return Plain.
Over these three days, the undercurrents of activity around the perimeter of the Dasheng military camp had never ceased.
Northern Di scouts prowled the surrounding area like night owls. The first group tested the positions of the camp gates and counted the cooking smoke rising from the tents. The second group operated in pairs, deliberately exposing one scout to draw away the patrolling cavalry while the other seized the opportunity to measure the patrols’ response times and pursuit distances.
Xiao Yuan remained remarkably calm in the face of it all.
On the second day, he had even personally ordered a wounded Northern Di scout to escape, allowing the man to carry back a piece of intelligence that was only half true: Dasheng’s left camp is poorly defended.
“Helian Cang is taking our measure.”
Xiao Yuan’s fingertips traced the terrain of Wild Goose Return Plain on the sand table, his tone indifferent. “Including the two disruptions to our supply route yesterday, all they managed to steal was a few carts of empty sacks. He wants to know how long we can hold out and how quickly we can react.”
Xia Lanshi looked up at him.
“But they’ll soon discover that they can’t cut off our supply route, and we’ve sealed off every attempt to probe us by land. That leaves them only one option. They’ll have to target the water.”
“They already have.”
The tent flap was lifted, admitting a cool breeze tinged with the smell of sand and earth.
Su Muchen strode into the main tent and placed a heavy sampling case on the table. His expression was grave.
At the same time, Chi Banyue slipped inside behind him like a silent shadow.
“Is there something wrong with the water?” Xiao Yuan raised his head, his gaze darkening slightly.
“The results from this morning’s second test of the water from Horse-Drinking Creek showed abnormalities.”
Su Muchen turned a handwritten record sheet and the data display of a small testing instrument toward the others.
“Yesterday, the creek’s baseline water quality was very stable. But at ten o’clock today, the water at the collection point had changed. The pH had dropped, and the turbidity had increased. More importantly, the instrument detected an unusual peak in nitrogen-containing organic compounds. I repeated the test using reagents and found an additional plant-derived alkaloid in the water.”
Su Muchen spoke cautiously. “Based on the current data, this wasn’t a one-time incident involving a large quantity of contaminants. This substance won’t make people collapse immediately, but if they continue drinking the water, its effects will gradually accumulate in their bodies. The instruments alone aren’t enough for me to identify the exact substance with certainty yet.”
“There’s no need to guess.”
Chi Banyue spoke up.
She stepped forward and placed a mud-stained cloth bundle on the table. When she gently unwrapped it, a clump of crushed, blue-green plant matter was revealed inside.
“We found it in a secluded bend upstream.” Chi Banyue’s voice was icy. “It’s water-hemp grass, a plant unique to the northern frontier.”
Su Muchen glanced down at the crushed remains, his expression shifting. “If it’s water-hemp grass, then the test results make perfect sense.”
Chi Banyue continued, “Judging from the traces left at the scene, this wasn’t a single act of contamination. I found fragments of a leather waterskin along the riverbank, and the inside showed signs of repeated soaking. There were also hoofprints from three to five horses nearby. Combined with the Northern Di scouts’ frequent surveys of the upstream terrain over the past two days…”
She paused, then concluded coldly, “I suspect they calculated when our kitchens would collect water on a large scale and contaminated it in separate, intermittent batches. We traced their retreat toward the northwest, in the direction of Northern Di territory. We didn’t pursue them, however, to avoid alerting the enemy.”
After listening, Xiao Yuan’s gaze darkened slightly.
“So they weren’t trying to make us collapse today.”
“They want us to discover the problem only several days from now, when it’s too late,” Su Muchen replied. “If people drink this contaminated water continuously for two or three days, they’ll first experience nausea, diarrhea, and weakness. Severe cases may suffer dehydration. For ordinary civilians, it would amount to little more than an illness. But for three thousand soldiers marching and fighting, it would be enough to rob them of the strength to draw their bows and swing their blades.”
The central command tent fell silent.
Northern Di’s methods were undeniably ruthless.
Since they couldn’t easily cut off the army’s grain supplies, they had turned to its indispensable water source.
“Stop all use of the creek immediately.”
Xiao Yuan issued the order without the slightest hesitation, his command crisp and decisive.
“Seal off Horse-Drinking Creek at once. Discard all the water collected today. Immediately switch to the reserve deep wells and mountain springs.”
“At the same time, suppress the news. Publicly, we’ll say only that suspicious scouts were spotted upstream and the creek has been temporarily sealed. Do not mention the abnormalities in the water.”
One military order after another was passed down, and everyone in the tent answered in unison.
Su Muchen added, “I’ve already tested the reserve water sources. They’re clean for now. As long as the enemy stops contaminating the upstream water, the alkaloid concentration in the creek will gradually decline at its current flow rate. I’ll take samples every day until the readings return completely to yesterday’s baseline. Only then will we gradually reopen the creek for washing and drinking.”
Xiao Yuan nodded, then turned toward Xia Lanshi, who had remained silent beside the sand table.
“We’ve secured the water supply. Chief Steward Xia, what do you think?”
Xia Lanshi looked at the roster Su Muchen had just submitted.
Before the abnormal results were discovered during the second test that morning, fifteen soldiers had already developed mild diarrhea after drinking from the creek.
Looking at the list, Xia Lanshi’s lips curved into a faint, cold smile.
“Your Highness, since Helian Cang has gone to such lengths to tamper with our water, he’ll be sorely disappointed if we show no reaction at all.”
Xiao Yuan raised an eyebrow. “You want to set a trap?”
“Not a trap. Merely taking advantage of the situation.”
Xia Lanshi tapped the roster lightly with his slender fingers.
“Fifteen men really are ill today. The military medical camp really is busy. And we really have stopped using the creek. Since all of it is true, there’s no need for us to fabricate anything.”
Su Muchen paused slightly. “If we don’t fabricate anything, how are we supposed to deceive the Northern Di scouts?”
“Exaggerate it.”
A glint flashed through Xia Lanshi’s eyes.
“Pass the order down. The medical camp is to continue treating the soldiers as usual. Give them fluids when needed and prepare herbal decoctions when necessary. Just make sure these activities happen to be a little more visible to the scouts watching from the perimeter.”
“Also, the kitchens must continue providing the usual rations. Our own soldiers must not go hungry.” Xia Lanshi’s tone turned cold. “But in the outer camp, cut the number of cooking fires in half. Deliberately delay and stagger the meal times, creating the impression that we’re short-handed and our troops are growing weak.”
Su Muchen immediately understood his intention.
There was no need to waste logistical supplies merely to create smoke, nor to reduce the soldiers’ rations.
They only needed to use the genuine circumstances already before them. When the Northern Di scouts watched from a distance, they would inflate those fifteen sick soldiers into a hundred, or even a thousand, in their own imaginations.
“On a battlefield, what’s real is always more useful than what’s fake.”
Xia Lanshi smiled faintly. “Helian Cang is naturally suspicious. He’d see through an overly contrived performance at a glance. But this kind of weakness that seems to be concealed and yet is conspicuously visible? He’ll believe it.”
Xiao Yuan picked up the thread, his gaze as deep as the night.
“When he hears that illness has spread through the Dasheng army, he won’t recklessly commit his entire force. But he certainly won’t let this opportunity pass. He may send an elite unit to test our actual strength.”
“He wants to see whether we still have a blade in our hands.”
A cold, hunter-like smile curved Xiao Yuan’s lips.
“Then I’ll give him his answer.”
Over the following two days, the Dasheng camp at Wild Goose Return Plain displayed astonishing military discipline and skill at deception.
The medical camp handled the situation in an orderly fashion, and the symptoms of the fifteen mildly ill soldiers were quickly brought under control.
Although everyone in the army knew that something was wrong with the water supply, not the slightest trace of panic spread through the ranks.
From the outside, however, the Dasheng camp presented a picture of gathering gloom.
Servants moved frequently in and out of the rear camp. The battle cries from the training grounds grew sparse. The handover times of the outer patrols were deliberately delayed.
Everything silently conveyed the same message to the outside world:
Something had gone wrong within the Dasheng army.
By the second night, it was already late.
The wind howled across the observation platform, stirring the dark cloak on Xiao Yuan’s shoulders.
Su Muchen had just completed the final water-quality test of the day.
“The concentration has dropped considerably. The water should return completely to normal by noon tomorrow.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a scout swept onto the elevated platform like a phantom and dropped to one knee, lowering his voice as he reported:
“Reporting! Northern Di cavalry have been spotted thirty li to the northwest. Approximately fifty riders. They’re using the cover of darkness to approach our left camp!”
At this, Xiao Yuan slowly turned around.
There was not the slightest surprise in his eyes, only a calm, murderous resolve.
“Thirty li,” he said coldly.
Xia Lanshi stood beside him and asked quietly, “Your Highness, shall we close the net?”
“Not yet. Let them come closer.”
Xiao Yuan turned to look toward the pitch-black wasteland in the northwest. His voice was particularly clear in the night.
“Send word to the left camp. Withdraw the defensive line according to plan and let them penetrate thirty paces inside. Have the archers switch to lighter bows.”
“They aren’t coming tonight to kill anyone. They’re here to confirm whether we can still fight.”
Xiao Yuan’s fingers tapped lightly against the hilt of the blade at his waist.
“Then let them confirm it.”
He paused, a chilling killing intent flashing through his eyes.
“Let them see what they’re supposed to see. As for what they mustn’t see…”
“Don’t let them take even an inch of it back with them.”
◆◇◆◇◆
Several days earlier.
The waters at Wild Goose Perch Crossing ran swiftly in the spring. The cold northern wind carried the raw, fishy smell of the river and sliced like a blade past the rows of Northern Di tents lining the bank.
Helian Cang stood at the end of a wooden pier, wrapped in a heavy wolf-fur cloak, gazing at the black water.
The hurried sound of hoofbeats came from behind him. Then the scout Chilian came scrambling up the pier, nearly rolling onto the planks.
“Marshal!”
Chilian dropped heavily to one knee, his voice filled with barely contained excitement.
“Urgent news just arrived! Prince Su, Xiao Yuan, has left Linbei City! He’s currently leading the main army toward Wild Goose Return Plain!”
Only the wind and the water could be heard on the pier.
Helian Cang did not turn around. Nor did he react with the overwhelming delight Chilian had expected. He didn’t even change his posture, as though he had just heard something utterly inconsequential.
Yet a thought of wild elation flashed through his heart.
Finally!
The very next moment, he suppressed every trace of emotion.
Only after a long while did he slowly turn around. His pale brown wolf-like eyes gleamed with a chilling light reflected from the water.
“When did he leave?” Helian Cang asked, his deep voice carrying an oppressive authority that brooked no defiance.
“At the mao hour this morning.”
“How many men did he take?”
“The main army has left the city. He took most of the Northern Frontier Army’s forces, along with his personal guard.”
Helian Cang stepped closer, his tone turning cold.
“What about Linbei City? How many troops remain behind?”
Cold sweat slid down Chilian’s face.
“That… has not yet been confirmed.”
Helian Cang’s gaze darkened.
They hadn’t even established the size of the garrison, yet they dared report that Xiao Yuan had left the city?
This intelligence had arrived far too quickly.
But he knew this was not simply a matter of Xiao Yuan leaving Linbei City.
It meant that Xiao Yuan had temporarily handed over command of Linbei City to someone else.
“Marshal,” a deputy general beside him interjected excitedly, “that Xiao Yuan has finally come out of his tortoise shell! Linbei City must be short of troops now. Should we immediately muster our forces and launch a night raid on the city?”
“Idiot!”
Helian Cang spat out the two words coldly, his gaze sweeping over the deputy general like an icy blade.
“Wake all four groups of scouts.”
He issued his orders in a deep voice. “At Linbei City, investigate when he left and which direction he took. At Wild Goose Return Plain, find out whether he has already established camp.”
“Near Broken Cloud Fortress and Whitewater Pass, check for any movements by the main Dasheng forces.”
The deputy general froze. “Marshal, do you suspect this is false information?”
“If he had truly left the city, there would be no need for the news to be delivered to my ears.”
Helian Cang walked over to a brazier.
“So the question isn’t whether he left. It’s that he wants me to know he left.”
He stared at the dancing flames.
“If he has left Linbei City wide open, then he’s baiting me into attacking.”
Xiao Yuan might not merely want Helian Cang to know that he had left. He might even deliberately want him to believe that Linbei City had been left undefended.
If Helian Cang led his troops against Linbei City now, Xiao Yuan could very well strike from behind, trapping his forces between the city and the main body of Prince Su’s army.
“…The more Linbei City looks like a fat piece of meat, the less we can afford to touch it.”
The deputy general was bewildered.
Helian Cang looked at him.
“Do you think Xiao Yuan doesn’t know that the city is most vulnerable to attack after he leaves?”
“He knows. And since he knows, yet still dares to leave…” He paused, his voice turning icy. “That means he’s waiting for someone to take the bait.”
“That’s precisely why we mustn’t move.”
Helian Cang withdrew his gaze, his tone revealing a deep wariness toward an old adversary.
His thoughts drifted back into the past, carried by the firelight.
Xiao Yuan had come to the northern frontier four times before.
But in Helian Cang’s eyes, the first two visits had amounted to nothing more than the arrival of a prince of exalted status. Xiao Yuan hadn’t even been worth remembering by name.
That changed when Xiao Yuan turned twenty.
That was the year Xiao Yuan began formally commanding troops.
And from that moment onward, Helian Cang began to remember his name.
Before Xiao Yuan arrived, the northern frontier had its own way of waging war.
But after Xiao Yuan came, the rules began to change.
Helian Cang still remembered that year. He had assumed Xiao Yuan would defend his position to the death, only for Xiao Yuan to send light cavalry to sever his supply lines. Helian Cang had feigned retreat to lure him into pursuit, but Xiao Yuan had stubbornly held his position. When Helian Cang thought Xiao Yuan would rush to save a besieged city, Xiao Yuan had instead waited halfway along the route, ready to strike when Helian Cang divided his forces.
Only then had Helian Cang realized that this prince of Dasheng did not win battles through sheer numbers.
He won them through his mind.
But what truly made Helian Cang hate Xiao Yuan was the battle two years ago.
That year, the first major military city on the northern frontier had once again fallen to a formal Northern Di assault, forcing Dasheng’s front line to retreat to Hanchuan City.
Helian Cang still remembered the heavy snow outside Hanchuan City that year. He had personally led his army to lay siege to it.
Three reports a day from his scouts all said the city’s grain and supplies were nearly exhausted.
He had even calculated the date on which the city would fall.
On the thirteenth day, the city gates opened.
He had thought Xiao Yuan was finally abandoning the city.
But the troops that emerged were no fleeing soldiers.
They were three thousand heavily armored cavalrymen.
That day, Helian Cang learned for the first time that Xiao Yuan was not a man who merely defended cities.
He was a man who wielded cities like blades.
Not only had Xiao Yuan held Hanchuan City, he had also launched a counterattack amid the bitter winter snow, driving the Northern Di forces back and reclaiming the first major military city on the northern frontier.
After that battle, Helian Cang’s assessment of Xiao Yuan changed completely.
As long as Xiao Yuan remained on the field, it would be exceedingly difficult for the Northern Di cavalry to advance even one step farther south.
“Marshal?”
Seeing that Helian Cang had remained silent for so long, the deputy general called out to him in a low voice.
Helian Cang returned to his senses, concealing the emotions in his eyes.
He recalled the intelligence he had received earlier.
The emperor had issued an absolute order: within three months, Prince Su must recover the three territories lost along the northern frontier.
Three months.
Three strategic military strongholds.
A low, cold laugh escaped Helian Cang’s throat.
It was not a laugh of delight, but one of icy amusement, edged with absurdity.
Now it seemed the intelligence was indeed true.
This time, he had not waited for Xiao Yuan to make a mistake.
Instead, Dasheng’s own court had pulled Xiao Yuan out of his most impregnable fortress for him.
“It seems we aren’t the only ones who want to force Xiao Yuan out of Linbei City.”
His tone carried a trace of mockery.
“Dasheng’s emperor is even more impatient than we are. Three cities in three months… This emperor knows even better than we do how to use a fine blade until it breaks.”
“Marshal, you’ve waited two years for this opportunity. Why not lead the army yourself to Wild Goose Return Plain and take his head?”
The deputy general asked in confusion.
Helian Cang did not answer.
He turned and strode toward the enormous sheepskin map inside the tent, fixing his gaze on the line running from Linbei City all the way to Wild Goose Return Plain.
Candlelight stretched his shadow long across the tent wall.
“Because the man I want to kill is not Prince Su.”
His voice was cold as poisoned ice, carrying an almost obsessive intensity.
“I want to kill the Xiao Yuan who drove me out of Hanchuan City two years ago and wrested the first major military city on the northern frontier from my hands. Now that he has walked out of Linbei City of his own accord… let him walk a little farther.”
He raised his eyes.
“I’ve been keeping that score for two years.”
Helian Cang raised a hand.
“Send orders to the three strongholds.”
“At Whitewater Pass, strengthen the cavalry patrols starting tomorrow, reinforce the crossbowmen, and repair the city defenses. Let Dasheng’s scouts see clearly that we’re strengthening our defenses, but do not launch any sorties.”
“At Broken Cloud Fortress, continue transporting grain as usual. Do not send reinforcements for now. Maintain the current situation.”
The deputy general froze.
“No reinforcements for Broken Cloud Fortress? What if…”
“Because there’s enough grain there,” Helian Cang replied indifferently.
Finally, his finger stopped over the city where he was currently stationed.
“Wild Goose Perch Crossing.”
Helian Cang lifted his head, the fire in his wolf-like eyes unsettling to behold.
“I’ll defend it personally. I’m not going anywhere.”
The deputy general was stunned.
“What if Xiao Yuan doesn’t come?”
Helian Cang looked up.
“He will.”
“Why?”
“Because he has only two months left.”
The candle flames inside the tent flickered.
“If he wants to capture all three strongholds before the deadline, he cannot bypass Wild Goose Perch Crossing. As long as I’m here, he won’t be free to choose his battlefield.”
Helian Cang rolled up the map.
“This time, I won’t chase him. I’ll make him come to me of his own accord.”
He looked toward the pitch-black water outside the tent.
“Two years ago, I waited for him outside Hanchuan City.”
“This time, I’ll wait for him to walk straight into my blade.”
The deputy general acknowledged the order and was about to withdraw when Helian Cang suddenly raised a hand.
“Wait.”
He walked back to the enormous sheepskin map in the center of the tent. His gaze moved away from Whitewater Pass, Broken Cloud Fortress, and Wild Goose Perch Crossing, settling instead on a thin blue line between Linbei City and Wild Goose Return Plain.
“Horse-Drinking Creek.”
He tapped the stream with his fingertip, his eyes turning as sinister as a venomous snake’s.
“If Xiao Yuan’s target is Wild Goose Return Plain, then Horse-Drinking Creek is the only flowing water source there capable of supplying an army on a large scale.”
Helian Cang spoke coldly.
“Send word to the covert agents prowling the perimeter. Have them take the water-hemp grass we prepared and bring it there.”
The deputy general’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Does the Marshal intend to poison the water? Kill them all while they’re still establishing their position?”
“Idiot.”
Helian Cang glanced at him, his gaze filled with deep calculation.
“That’s a flowing stream. How much potent poison do you think it would take to kill thousands upon thousands of people in one go? And if the poison were too strong and took effect too quickly, they’d notice on the first day and stop using the water. We wouldn’t inflict any lasting damage.”
He walked over to the brazier, his voice low and ominous.
“Tell Chilian to act in a secluded bend upstream. But remember: the substance must be introduced in several separate batches, with intervals between them. Don’t do it all at once. I want them to realize that something may be wrong with the water without being able to determine exactly where the problem lies.”
The deputy general hesitated.
“Marshal, water-hemp grass acts slowly. At most, it will cause diarrhea and weakness. The Dasheng army has military physicians. I’m afraid…”
“Let them investigate,” Helian Cang interrupted coldly. “They may identify the water-hemp grass, but they won’t know how much we’ve introduced, when we introduced it, or whether we’ll do it again tomorrow. Making the water supply unreliable is more useful than making people collapse immediately.”
Helian Cang threw a piece of dry wood into the fire and watched the sparks burst.
“Xiao Yuan has brought a fine blade out with him, hasn’t he? I’ll use this creek to blunt its edge first.”
The deputy general asked again, “What if he stops collecting water and switches to a reserve source?”
“Then let him.”
Helian Cang’s expression remained unchanged.
“A reserve source may solve the problem temporarily, but he cannot keep his entire army from ever touching Horse-Drinking Creek again. If he stops using it, we wait. If he uses it again…”
“Then we’ll remind him that this creek isn’t as clean as he thinks.”
The tent fell silent for a moment.
Helian Cang raised his eyes toward the south. Beneath the pitch-black night sky, nothing could be seen.
But he knew that far away, on Wild Goose Return Plain, the lights in Xiao Yuan’s tent must still be burning.
“What I want to see isn’t how many of his men fall ill.”
Helian Cang looked up, his gaze cold and steady, like that of the most patient lone wolf on the wasteland.
“I want to see how many men and how much attention Xiao Yuan devotes to dealing with a water supply problem. Remember, I want to tie him down, not slaughter his army.”
He withdrew his gaze and looked at the deputy general.
“Go and carry it out. Once the operation begins, report every day: when Dasheng’s patrols start collecting water, how much they take, and how long the military physicians remain by the creek.”
“Yes!”
A chill ran down the deputy general’s spine. He hurriedly clasped his fists.
“This subordinate will make the arrangements immediately!”
Helian Cang stood alone outside the tent as the river rushed through the darkness, its deep roar echoing across the night.
He looked down at the turbulent water beneath his feet and suddenly murmured, as though speaking to himself:
“Xiao Yuan… You can cut off your soldiers’ grain, but can you cut off their water?”
◇◆◇◆◇
At first light, a thick stack of invitation cards was the first thing to arrive on the desk in the chief steward’s study at Prince Yi’s residence.
“Your Highness has received nine invitations today,” an aide reported, sorting them into neat piles.
Three invitations were for outings on the lake, two for spring banquets, one for a poetry gathering, and several more were invitations to hear “new performances” at Qiyun Tower and Cuihua Pavilion.
The final invitation had been placed separately to one side. It came from Shuyu Pavilion.
In the past, Lan Ningcheng would only have needed to ask casually, “Which one does Your Highness wish to attend?”
Or Xiao Ying might have waved a hand and said, “All of them.”
But today, Lan Ningcheng stood before the desk, his gaze sweeping coldly over the gilded and silver-speckled invitations as though inspecting a pile of poisoned hidden weapons.
“These two invitations for outings on the lake are from notorious wastrel sons of prominent families. Turn them down.”
He didn’t even raise his eyelids.
“Tell them His Highness has spent the past few days examining old records at the Imperial Clan Court and has been given such a headache by the scolding of several senior members of the imperial family that he is resting behind closed doors at the residence. Use the same excuse to refuse the invitations from Qiyun Tower and Cuihua Pavilion.”
He casually tossed the invitations into the wastepaper basket, preserving Xiao Ying’s carefully cultivated façade: a prince who wanted nothing more than to shirk his duties and indulge himself, but was unfortunately too overwhelmed by responsibility to do so.
“As for this spring banquet…”
His fingers paused over the two invitations to spring banquets, and his gaze sharpened.
“This young master from the Vice Minister’s household has never had any dealings with the prince’s residence before, yet he has suddenly become unusually attentive. Keep this one. Record his name in the confidential files and let His Highness decide personally.”
“As for this poetry gathering…”
Lan Ningcheng pulled that invitation aside, his tone turning cold.
“The organizer is far too close to the Eastern Palace. Reject it outright. Don’t retain even a scrap of paper.”
At Prince Yi’s residence, turning away visitors was no longer merely a matter of handling social obligations. It had become a precise and unforgiving process of filtering intelligence.
Who was secretly probing them?
Who was deliberately dangling bait?
And who intended to take advantage of Xiao Ying venturing alone into deep waters to deliver a fatal blow from behind?
All these threats had to be filtered with precision at Lan Ningcheng’s discretion.
Lan Ningcheng picked up the final invitation.
At last, he took the solitary card lying in the corner of the desk.
There was no gilding or elaborate decoration.
On the clean white paper, a single character, Yue—“Moon”—had been drawn in fine silver ink. At the lower-right corner of the reverse was a small silver seal bearing the character Xi.
When tilted slightly toward the morning light, faint cloud patterns could be seen shimmering across the paper.
Clean and elegant, with an air of aloof dignity. It looked nothing like the standard invitations used by a male courtesan at a pleasure house.
Ever since Xiao Ying had entered the Imperial Clan Court, he had found it difficult to spend his days indulging in the pleasures of wine and romance as he once had. Yet, to avoid arousing suspicion, he still needed to maintain the farcical public image that Prince Yi doted exclusively on Yuexi Jun. Their meetings therefore had to be carefully arranged.
Lan Ningcheng pressed his fingertips lightly against the invitation, a glint of cold calculation passing through his eyes.
For His Highness as he was now, was Yuexi Jun an asset—or an obstacle that might turn against him at any moment?
To investigate the old case involving the Wu family, Xiao Ying did not necessarily need the Wu family’s second son.
What he truly valued was the intricate intelligence network behind Shuyu Pavilion.
As for how much that network could do for Prince Yi’s residence, and whether it concealed ulterior motives, Lan Ningcheng was still watching coldly from the sidelines.
“Submit this invitation to His Highness along with the one for the Vice Minister’s spring banquet.”
After dealing with these outward-facing social engagements, whose sincerity was difficult to distinguish from deception, Lan Ningcheng dismissed his aides and turned into the inner study.
There, on a concealed desk, lay the confidential intelligence delivered overnight by the residence’s covert network.
His responsibility was not to personally take the field and kill people. It was to piece together fragments of intelligence concerning the Ministry of Revenue, the Crown Prince’s faction, the Eastern Palace, and other forces until the full picture emerged.
At that moment, three unresolved case files lay side by side in a hidden compartment: the drowning case, the pruning case, and the Jiangnan grain-storage shortfall case.
Lan Ningcheng’s gaze settled on the latest intelligence report concerning the northern frontier grain supply route.
This matter was of the utmost importance. It concerned Prince Su, far away on the northern frontier, and was directly tied to Xiao Ying’s fate as well.
The report was explicit: the emperor had ordered the Ministry of Revenue to dispatch grain tribute shipments on schedule, transporting them by water to Beiming Port in Linzhou to ensure that the northern frontier army’s supplies remained secure and uninterrupted.
Lan Ningcheng studied the flawless transfer records, his brows drawing tighter and tighter.
“Too smooth,” he murmured to himself.
There had been no delays, no losses, no bureaucratic buck-passing.
Previously, the Ministry of Revenue had always obstructed the northern frontier’s grain supplies because someone had dared to interfere behind the scenes. Now that the emperor had personally issued the order, the entire supply route had suddenly become unobstructed.
It was almost too perfect, like a false picture painted to deceive the eye.
“Normal grain shipments don’t mean everything is normal.”
Lan Ningcheng picked up his brush and wrote several names on a piece of paper, then handed it to a hidden guard.
“Find out which granary this batch came from, which ships transported it, and who was in charge of the escort. I don’t want to hear how much grain the Ministry of Revenue claims to have sent. I want to know whether what actually arrives at Beiming Port is real grain in the quantities recorded.”
Once that was dealt with, he had to turn his attention to the residence’s account books.
Prince Yi’s residence had numerous ledgers, every one of which passed through Lan Ningcheng’s hands. Some were official accounts; others were accounts that could never be brought into the light.
For the latter, he had developed a private system of recordkeeping. Half the information was written in the ledgers, where it looked no different from ordinary accounts. The other half was stored in his memory.
He himself was the living ledger of Prince Yi’s residence.
He worked throughout the day, and even when night fell and the lights across the residence gradually went out, his duties were not yet finished.
Carrying a lantern, he began his nightly routine before bed: making another round of the entire residence.
This was no ordinary patrol conducted by the guards. It was an exacting inspection.
He checked everything from the study’s door locks and the lattice windows of the sleeping quarters to the kitchen’s water jars and the fodder in the stables.
At last, he stopped outside the residence’s medicinal storeroom.
Xiao Ying suffered from habitual headaches and often needed hangover remedies. The medicinal storeroom therefore kept a wide variety of herbs in constant supply, many of which were consumed almost daily.
It was also one of the easiest places for an intruder to penetrate the residence’s defenses—and one of the deadliest potential vulnerabilities.
Lan Ningcheng pushed open the door, and the faint fragrance of medicinal herbs immediately filled his nose.
He raised his lantern, his gaze sweeping silently over the rows of medicine shelves like a general surveying a battlefield.
The quantities were correct. There were no signs of the locks having been forced. Even the lime spread on the floor to keep out dampness remained perfectly smooth.
Yet he suddenly stopped in front of the shelves at the very back.
Slowly, he turned and stared at the licorice box on the top shelf.
To anyone else, it would have appeared entirely normal. But to Lan Ningcheng, whose memory was terrifyingly precise, the box had shifted half an inch to the right since the previous day.
He brought the lantern closer and glanced at a barely visible mark on the shelf.
It was a mark he had secretly made to indicate the exact position of each box.
Now the box no longer aligned with the mark.
He examined it carefully.
None of the herbs were missing, and there were no signs of tampering with the contents or of poisoning.
It had simply been moved.
That was far more unnerving than finding a packet of medicine missing.
It meant that someone had already begun measuring the limits of the residence’s defenses, probing for weaknesses in its security.
Lan Ningcheng said nothing. He did not even alter the rhythm of his breathing.
Calmly, he reached out and gently pushed the licorice box back into its original position, precisely aligning it with the mark.
Then he locked the storeroom and left.
The following morning.
“Who entered the medicinal storeroom yesterday during the wei hour?”
Lan Ningcheng sat in a grand armchair, holding a teacup. His tone was as even as ever, utterly devoid of warmth.
The steward quickly investigated and brought over a servant who had only recently been transferred to the inner courtyard.
The man knelt deeply on the floor, not daring to raise his head.
Lan Ningcheng did not interrogate him. He did not have him arrested immediately, nor did he pursue the identity of whoever might have bribed him.
He had already checked the medicinal storeroom’s entry register. The man’s name did not appear in it.
He simply set down his teacup and looked at the servant, whose forehead was beaded with cold sweat.
“Starting today, collect your wages and leave the residence.”
No evidence or confession was needed. This was within his authority and responsibility as the chief steward of Prince Yi’s residence.
At Prince Yi’s residence, Lan Ningcheng did not even need to know whether the man was a spy. He only needed to know that he would never allow another uncontrollable variable to come anywhere near Prince Yi.
After the servant had left, Lan Ningcheng gave a quiet instruction to the shadow lurking nearby.
“Keep an eye on him. If he stays alive, find out whom he meets. If he dies, find out who killed him.”
The shadow acknowledged the order and disappeared.
In the past, Lan Ningcheng’s role had been to preserve the dignity and appearance of Prince Yi’s residence.
Now, his role was to preserve its security.
From the moment Xiao Ying had decided to enter the game, the entire operating logic of Prince Yi’s residence had been turned upside down.
The seemingly idle prince, who still appeared to be a spoiled wastrel spending his days carousing with disreputable friends, had already transformed himself into dangerous bait—and a player moving the pieces on the board.
And the burden of supporting this high-stakes gamble, of keeping the many dangers beyond the residence’s high walls, now rested entirely on the shoulders of its chief steward, Lan Ningcheng.
He had to be more meticulous than ever, leaving not the slightest opening through which the storm could break past the vermilion gates of Prince Yi’s residence.