“Meng Song was lost?” Mu Wan raised his eyes in surprise. “A ghost-haunted maze?”
Ning Bumo nodded. “They said that after he left the city, he kept circling in the same spot. By the time they found the way, Meng Song was already gone.”
However, both of them had guessed that the person laying the trap would be interested in Meng Song, so this outcome was not unexpected.
Although Mu Wan was the one who broke the formation, because they had made such a public display of inviting Meng Song to handle the matter, everyone likely assumed that he was the one who had actually broken the spell.
This had made the man famous. Not only were the common people curious, but the person who set the trap was likely harboring a grudge, wondering exactly who had ruined their plans.
However, Ning Bumo had not expected the other party to be so impatient.
“What did you do that day?” Ning Bumo asked, his mind flashing back to the sight of Mu Wan piercing the candle flame with a sword.
Mu Wan had barely moved when searching for the layout items, but when he saw the candle lit in the room, he had stared at it curiously for a long time before casually drawing a sword from the wall and piercing it.
“The wax contained a trace of the perpetrator’s heart-blood. By destroying it, I have likely caused the person behind it to suffer a backlash.” As for how severe the injury was, it depended on how much effort they had put into targeting Ning Bumo. The more malicious the sorcery, the stronger the backlash.
“Is something wrong?” Seeing Ning Bumo remain silent for a long time, focusing only on him, Mu Wan felt a bit curious.
Ning Bumo unexpectedly averted his gaze in discomfort. After a moment, he looked back at Mu Wan and spoke honestly, “You looked very graceful holding the sword.”
It had clearly been a casual strike, yet the three-foot-long blade in his hand had been like a sharp, cold light that moved the heart.
Remembering what Mu Wan said when he picked up the sword Ning Bumo had dropped, Ning Bumo found his curiosity about him increasingly difficult to satisfy. How could someone hold so many secrets?
“After all, I am a swordsman,” Mu Wan said, revealing a small secret about himself for the first time.
Ning Bumo noticed that when talking about his identity as a swordsman, Mu Wan was in high spirits, as if it were a status he was extremely proud of.
The dissatisfaction gnawed at Ning Bumo’s heart, prompting him to ask, “Then, where is your sword?”
“My sword?” Mu Wan looked down at his palm. “I will let you see it if the opportunity arises.”
After all, the time to draw his sword had not yet come.
Because two accidents had occurred in the estate in quick succession, Ning Bumo took the opportunity to purge the staff.
The estate had previously been a mix of servants from the palace, government appointees, and market hires. After this event, Ning Bumo completely overhauled the staff, replacing all the managers in the bedchamber and the estate with his own people.
Even if the palace was unhappy, they had to endure it. After all, the Prince of Jing had suffered greatly, and the matter involved witchcraft. He had already made several scenes at the palace and the court; who knew what other stories Ning Bumo would invent if they did not satisfy his wishes?
With Lin Zhong and his cohorts gone, Mu Wan felt significantly more relaxed.
On the Winter Solstice, the weather turned increasingly cold, and there had been a light snowfall a few days prior. Mu Wan remained in the warm pavilion, facing a painting of winter plums that had yet to be colored.
He picked up a vermilion brush to color a petal, and when he turned around, the new steward, Jiang Yi, had already sent people to bring a warm hot pot.
Steam rose from the copper pot, with various soup bases bubbling. Beside it were slices of mutton and fresh vegetables. The arrangement of dishes helped dispel the chill that had entered when the door opened.
“Thank you, Uncle Jiang.” Mu Wan’s eyes curved into a smile as he spoke.
Jiang Yi did not say a word, but his smile grew even kinder.
He was already at the age of “knowing the decree of heaven.” Watching Mu Wan, who felt like a younger member of his own family, and remembering how much Ning Bumo valued him, he felt a sense of affection for the Prince Consort.
He was the steward who had served Ning Bumo at the border, an old man who had truly braved life and death with him. Initially, because Lin Zhong was there, Ning Bumo had been worried about Mu Wan being bullied, so he had not arranged for Jiang Yi to return. Now that Lin Zhong had been removed, Jiang Yi had naturally taken over the rejuvenated estate under Ning Bumo’s arrangement.
Mu Wan quite liked this new steward; he knew his place and did not overstep, unlike Lin Zhong. Since the estate was now mostly Ning Bumo’s people, Mu Wan was extremely free in his daily activities. He had been too lazy to pretend to be simple-minded, and now he was even less restricted.
As he waited for Ning Bumo to come over for dinner, Mu Wan suddenly asked, “In a few days, will it be Ning Bumo’s birthday?”
He remembered Ning Bumo mentioning that he was born in winter.
Jiang Yi had not expected him to remember this; his smile broadened further, and he nodded quickly.
“It is nearly here. A few days ago, the Prince told the Emperor that he wished for a simple celebration. He will host a family banquet at the estate, and there will not be many guests. When the time comes, I will have someone draft a menu, and you can choose what you like, and we will have it prepared.”
“Fresh venison will be delivered tomorrow. How about we brush it with sauce and roast it?”
“Anything is fine; you arrange it.” This was not just Mu Wan being polite; Jiang Yi truly handled things well. He did not know what Ning Bumo had said to him, but even though it was his own birthday, the first priority was always to accommodate Mu Wan’s preferences.
“By the way, do not tell him about what I asked today.”
“Do not tell me what?” Ning Bumo’s voice came before he arrived.
The door to the warm pavilion opened, bringing in a gust of north wind. Ning Bumo removed his cloak and looked at the two people who had stopped talking and were sharing a silent secret.
“Nothing for you to know,” Mu Wan said, his tone so light it made it impossible to be angry.
Ning Bumo turned his gaze to Jiang Yi.
“You said I should listen to the Prince Consort,” Jiang Yi said with a smile.
“You two are quite close, having secrets from me already.” Ning Bumo spoke with a hint of sourness, but the next moment, Mu Wan handed him a pair of chopsticks.
The handsome young man supported his chin and teased, “Eat some meat to neutralize the taste; do not let it sour your teeth.”
Ning Bumo wondered if he had lost his mind; he found this arrogant expression irresistibly cute.
Jiang Yi watched them with a smile and left the warm pavilion. Once only the two of them remained, Ning Bumo washed his hands and picked up his chopsticks. “I sent someone to the Qian family’s medicine shop, but they found nothing suspicious. The shop has been open in the capital for many years; it does not look like a front planted by anyone.”
Mu Wan did not think they would find anything by searching like that. After all, Liaowu had said he had to go to the shop himself when he wanted to leave the estate.
Mu Wan would not make such a choice lightly.
Ning Bumo wanted to say more while holding his chopsticks, but seeing the bubbling hot pot, he remained silent. Mu Wan did not like chatting about annoying matters while eating, so it was better to wait until they were finished.
The freshly slaughtered mutton was rich and fragrant, tender and without a gamey taste, paired with crisp vegetables; it was a rare winter delicacy. Once the meal concluded and the servants cleared the table, Mu Wan asked, “What was it you wanted to say earlier?”
He had noticed Ning Bumo’s unspoken words.
“A fast horse entered the capital today. It is said there is a report of victory from Lingzhou.”
“I recall Du Heguang saying the person now in charge of military affairs in Lingzhou is Wei Yuan, the Commissioner dispatched by the Emperor?”
Ning Bumo nodded.
In other words, the Commissioner who had once been at odds with Ning Bumo had gone to Lingzhou and truly made a name for himself. With a victory report sent by fast horse, the battle must have been a great triumph.
“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” After all, it was someone they had disagreed with, and they had apparently secured the victory using the experience of Ning Bumo’s own men.
“I might have felt that way if my legs had not healed,” Ning Bumo said honestly. He would have been happy for the victory in Lingzhou but simultaneously resentful of his own situation.
However, this influence was not as troublesome as the other news that had arrived with the victory report.
“Wei Yuan won a great victory, and it is almost the end of the year. To reward the soldiers, they have decided to combine the rewards with the Winter Hunt. In about half a month, we must travel to the South Garden for the hunt.”
As the Prince of Jing, he had to go. Mu Wan would likely have to accompany him, and they would not be able to live as freely in the estate as they did now. He anticipated there would be plenty of trouble.
“If you do not want to go, I can find an opportunity to decline.” After all, Ning Bumo was a cripple in everyone’s eyes; he could easily use the excuse of poor spirits to decline horse riding and hunting.
However, in the eyes of others, it would probably look like Ning Bumo could not stand to see Wei Yuan’s victory.
“Is the South Garden fun?” Mu Wan did not respond immediately.
“The scenery is quite nice, and we can watch the soldiers practice. As for the food, the taste of fresh game is always different.” Even as he said it, Ning Bumo felt it sounded uninteresting.
If his legs had been recovered in front of others, he could have won the top prize for Mu Wan and brought back rewards he wanted. As it stood, the two of them would at most watch the performances of other soldiers. If they had that time, they might as well go out of the city and wander on their own, living a much more carefree life.
“But in winter, there is nothing fun to do elsewhere. In that case, we might as well go watch the soldiers practice.”
“Of course, there is a tiny bit of selfishness on my part.” Mu Wan pinched his fingers to show a tiny gap. “Prince of Jing, do not let that hateful person be too smug.”
Ning Bumo was stunned.
So, Mu Wan was accommodating him?
The seventh day of the eleventh lunar month—a day that was not particularly special, yet it was Ning Bumo’s birthday.
It was also the fifteenth day since Meng Song had been taken away.
He did not know where he was, only that he had not returned to the city. Those people had taken him to a house and provided him with food and drink for fifteen full days. If not for the fact that their origins were unknown, being supported like this might have been a decent option.
Unfortunately, Meng Song felt guilty, so he did not enjoy these carefree days.
The people who had taken him ignored him, acting like a sword hanging over his head, making him uneasy at every moment.
Fortunately, there was finally some movement today.
“Daoist Meng, my master invites you over.” A servant with an ordinary face, the kind you would never find in a crowd, spoke respectfully before leading him to the study of the mansion.
Over the past few days, although Meng Song could not leave, he had been free to move around the house. He had visited this study once, but had seen no useful information. He wondered, if the so-called master wanted to see him for the first time, why choose this place?
The door opened, and he was met by a standing screen. Behind the screen sat two figures—one tall, one short. Their physical appearance was indistinguishable, making it impossible to guess who they were.
Several guards holding long blades guarded outside the screen, their gazes locked on Meng Song, as if they would strike him down should he make any reckless moves.
Swallowing hard, Meng Song maintained a calm expression, though his mind was filled with the instructions Mu Wan had given him before he left.
“Remember the words I told you. As long as you leak this information bit by bit, not only can you save your life, but you can also gain unexpected rewards.”
But were Mu Wan’s words truly effective?
His heart grew increasingly troubled, yet the professional integrity he had developed over the years made his expression excessively calm.
The person behind the screen observed him for a long time. The taller one finally spoke: “Daoist Meng has surely guessed why I have come?”
“No need to say more, it must be regarding the Prince of Jing’s estate.” Suppressing his trembling pinky finger, Meng Song drank the tea before him in one gulp, drawing on his lifelong acting skills to speak nonchalantly. “I did not wish to be too ostentatious, but the plot laid against the Prince of Jing’s estate was too venomous. Furthermore, since the Prince found me, it would be a violation of my school’s teachings not to intervene.”
“Oh? I wonder which school Daoist Meng belongs to, and where did you practice before?”
“No school, no sect. It was just by chance that I encountered a stroke of luck; that immortal left only one sentence and a few arts, yet I have already benefited infinitely.”
“What sentence?” The shorter figure finally could not suppress his curiosity and asked.
He and the other person did not know what method they used, as their voices were blurred, making it impossible to hear their real vocal ranges. However, Meng Song had no desire to investigate this. Clutching the desperate hope that it would work, he repeated the eight characters Mu Wan had taught him.
“So, what did you teach him?”
In the Prince of Jing’s estate, Ning Bumo was equally curious.