Clinging to the estate guard’s back, Xie Zi’an caught sight of Zhu Yue hurrying over. Through the curtain of rain, their eyes locked.
Xie Zi’an guessed that Zhu Yue had likely figured out the ledgers were not at the Zhao residence. If so, she might stop trusting him altogether yet Zhu Yue remained his only lifeline at the moment.
He could not afford to lose her trust. Cutting in before Zhu Yue could question him, Xie Zi’an hastily explained: “Please forgive me, Your Highness. It was my confusion; the ledgers are not at the Zhao estate. Zhao Chengxiao never went back there. Instead, he must have gone to the dyehouse at the very end of Huazhi Alley. He has someone to meet, and he intends to hand the ledgers over to that person.”
Right now, he needed to shift the blame onto Zhao Chengxiao while making sure not to expose the Third Prince. It was best to offend as few people as possible.
Xie Zi’an paused, lowering his gaze. “As far as I know, Chengxiao has a friend with whom he shares everything he does. As for who this person is, Chengxiao never let it slip, so I am unaware of it. I only happened to overhear about their secret meeting place by chance.”
If Zhu Yue were a bit calmer, she would realize that Xie Zi’an’s explanation was airtight sounding less like a teenager who had just lived through a family annihilation and more like a seasoned veteran of Yecheng’s political underworld. This was thanks both to the twenty extra years of worldly experience Xie Zi’an possessed compared to the young marquis in the book, and to his formidable adaptability, which allowed him to figure out how to navigate any environment he found himself in.
Additionally, Zhu Yue’s judgment was constrained by both time and space; based solely on the limited aspects she understood, it was difficult for her not to be swayed by Xie Zi’an’s words.
Xie Yuan had two sons. His eldest, Xie Yicheng, had been cultivated as his successor, possessing both ambition and exceptional capability. Conversely, Xie Yuan doted excessively on his younger son, reluctant to let him touch a shred of political intrigue, thus raising him to be exceptionally naive. This also explained why Xie Zi’an had never quite fit in with the dissolute young gallants of Yecheng.
Zhu Yue was willing to trust Xie Zi’an’s character, especially since he had no reason to play tricks on her.
Even so, she retained a sliver of caution. In this man-eat-man world, caution was second nature to her.
She spoke coldly: “If we fail to retrieve the ledgers tonight, you are a dead man. I will give you one more chance think carefully before you speak.”
While they spoke, the maidservants holding gauze lanterns hurried over. Looking somewhat nervous, one of them stepped forward to shelter Zhu Yue with an oil-paper umbrella. They had failed to notice Zhu Yue stepping back outside after returning indoors, letting her get drenched by the rain. Fortunately, Zhu Yue did not press the issue, and even more fortunately, Chunxue was not around; otherwise, had Chunxue found out, they would certainly have been punished.
“I have thought it through. Everything I just said is the absolute truth, Your Highness,” Xie Zi’an met Zhu Yue’s gaze head-on.
Zhu Yue said nothing more. Silence hung heavy in the air for a few seconds.
She had no other choice. She had no option but to trust this boy. Without the ledgers, not only would Xie Zi’an die, but it would also implicate the Empress Dowager, and her own days would hardly be pleasant either.
Now that Chunxue and the shadow guards were away, she had to go to Huazhi Alley herself to intercept Lu Bingqiu.
Turning on her heel, she strode back toward the courtyard gates and instructed the maidservant closely following her: “Have a carriage prepared immediately, and send word to Chunxue to hurry to Huazhi Alley and rendezvous with me.”
With those words, Zhu Yue abruptly froze. A terrifying realization struck her: without an imperial edict from the Empress Dowager even with Chunxue and the shadow guards, she would never be able to hold Lu Bingqiu back. When Lu Bingqiu went unhinged, he bit everyone in his path.
She drew a token from her sleeve and handed it to the nearest maidservant. “Go straight into the palace to the Empress Dowager and request an imperial decree for the Grand Princess’s estate to apprehend Zhao Chengxiao. Once you have it, head straight to Huazhi Alley without a moment’s delay on the road.”
Accepting the token, the maidservant vanished into the courtyard.
Standing nearby, Xie Zi’an could not help but admire this woman of the feudal era. Sharp, decisive, resolute. If placed in the modern world, she might well have been an exceptional corporate rival.
Seeing that Zhu Yue was about to leave after giving her orders, Xie Zi’an urgently called out, “Please wait, Your Highness. Zi’an wishes to accompany Your Highness to Huazhi Alley. I was the one who entrusted the ledgers to Zhao Chengxiao, so it is only right that I go retrieve them myself. I beg Your Highness to grant this.”
The hand he rested on the guard’s shoulder tightened involuntarily. Those three ledgers were tied to his life; he had to retrieve them from Zhao Chengxiao with his own hands to feel secure.
More importantly, Xie Zi’an still did not fully trust Zhu Yue. Although she seemed to be looking out for him at every turn, he knew next to nothing about her beyond the fact that she belonged to the Empress Dowager’s faction, which happened to be the villainous camp in the book. Xie Zi’an had to guard against the possibility that once the ledgers were in hand, Zhu Yue might renege, casually claim the ledgers were missing, and hand him over to Lu Bingqiu, at which point he would be completely finished.
Zhu Yue glanced back at him. “Follow if you wish. Once we secure the ledgers, I will naturally protect you.”
Lowering his gaze, Xie Zi’an spoke in a resonant voice: “Thank you for your grace, Your Highness!”
The rain was gradually easing, the youth’s voice echoing among the pillars and eaves of the Grand Princess’s residence.
Huazhi Alley lay on East Street at the easternmost edge of Yecheng. Far removed from the imperial palace, it was an area populated entirely by impoverished folk. Their cramped, gloomy houses looked almost identical low, short, and densely packed together, leaving narrow alleyways wide enough for only a single person to pass through. To an outsider, it was a labyrinth.
To make matters worse, the terrain here was astonishingly low-lying. Every time it rained, the drainage ditches filled to the brim, washing out foul, fetid waste.
Lu Bingqiu and his men had rushed to the outskirts of East Street, only to find the houses crammed so tightly together that they couldn’t even ride their horses past the entrance. With no other choice, Lu Bingqiu and his troops tethered their mounts to trees and waded ankle-deep through the water into the heart of East Street.
Yet once inside, they lost track of Huazhi Alley entirely. This wasn’t because they were foolish; for a first-timer, not getting completely lost was already a miracle.
After wasting half an hour, they found themselves running in circles in the exact same spot. During that time, Lu Bingqiu blew his summoning whistle for Qingyi several times, but whether the bird failed to hear or something else happened, it never flew back.
Furious, Lu Bingqiu broke into a local resident’s home, dragged out a sleeping man at random, and forced him to act as their guide.
When the man finally led them to Huazhi Alley, the entire squad of Jinyiwei inwardly groaned in misery.
The narrow, endless alleyway was lined with jagged, irregular houses facing one another in suffocating proximity. Reluctant as they were to set foot in this place, they had no choice; Xie Zi’an and the ledgers were hidden here. To Lu Bingqiu, Xie Zi’an was merely an insignificant clown; the military fund corruption ledgers were what truly mattered. Even if they had to tear this place down to the foundations tonight, they were going to find those ledgers.
Releasing the terrified local, Lu Bingqiu ordered his subordinates to search house by house, joining the search himself.
The foul, freezing water rose to his calves. With every step he sank into the muck, he had no idea what his feet were trampling perhaps a sharp stone, perhaps a discarded sliver of wood. Sometime during the rainy night, his right foot was pierced by something unknown, but he no longer cared. By now, his feet had long since gone completely numb from soaking in the water.
As he searched a house deep within the alleyway, a cluster of faint lights suddenly flickered to life near the alley entrance, seeming to float suspended in midair as they drew closer and closer. Reflexively, Lu Bingqiu’s hand tightened around the Xiuchun saber at his waist, his hawk-like gaze fixed upon the approaching glow.
As the lights drew fully near, Lu Bingqiu saw who it was.
Seeing three figures carrying gauze lanterns walking toward him, he exhaled a breath of relief, relaxed his grip on the hilt, and reached out to knock on the door of the next house.
The three unfamiliar figures filed past him one by one. Stomping step by step through the standing water on the ground, Lu Bingqiu could feel the surrounding water surging violently in their wake. Just as he completely let go of his taut nerves, the final figure carrying a lantern passed by him, releasing a distinct fragrance into the air.
It was a scent currently sweeping through Yecheng rich without being cloying, blended with numerous precious medicinal herbs, and thus exceptionally expensive. The noble daughters of Yecheng’s prestigious families vied to purchase it, and quite a few young gentlemen bought it as well. Lu Bingqiu had smelled it on others before, which was why he recognized it instantly.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, realization struck. He whirled around abruptly, watching as the group of travelers halted directly in front of the house at the very end of the alley.
Lu Bingqiu shouted at the top of his lungs: “Lu Bingqiu of the Northern Administrative Office pays his respects to the Grand Princess!”
All three froze in place. The tiny figure in the lead, who had just reached out to push open the door, stopped dead.
Enveloped in a dark cloak, Zhu Yue dared not confirm whether Lu Bingqiu had actually recognized her. With the night this dark and her attire so heavy and concealing, how could Lu Bingqiu possibly have seen through her?
Thinking along those lines, Lu Bingqiu’s declaration sounded more like a probing bluff.
Even if it was just a bluff, she couldn’t immediately think of a good way to shake off his suspicion. Lu Bingqiu was a cunning jackal; he wasn’t so easily fooled.
Zhu Yue was deeply unwilling to back down. She was now merely a single step away from success. Xie Zi’an had said Zhao Chengxiao’s dyehouse was at the very end of this alley. Now that they were standing right at the door, how could she hand the ledgers over to someone else?
Therefore, she could not expose her identity right now. If she did, and without an imperial decree from the Empress Dowager in hand, Lu Bingqiu would not only take Xie Zi’an away, but he would also discover Zhao Chengxiao and the ledgers hidden inside the house.
Just as Zhu Yue found herself caught in a dilemma, the door right in front of them suddenly creaked open, and a lazy voice drifted out from within: “Who’s out there? Can’t a person get some sleep?”
A figure stepped out from inside, moving with a frivolous, nonchalant gait. The soles of his boots slapped lightly against the water surface with soft pattering sounds, a layer of dense little raindrops and faint black mud clinging to his deerskin boots.
He came to a halt on the third step.
Rain lashed against the green tiles, sending a heavy curtain of water cascading from the eaves to separate Xie Zi’an from him.
Judging by the voice, Xie Zi’an felt the speaker sounded like a young man—somewhat lazy, yet crisp. He tried to peer past the curtain of rain, but the hood of his cloak was a bit too large, the brim obstructing most of his vision.
Compounding that with the pitch-black rainy night, Xie Zi’an could hardly see clearly; his eyes felt as though they had been coated in a thin layer of watery mist.
The person standing before him was significantly taller than he was. If Xie Zi’an looked straight ahead, the highest he could see was the slender stretch of neck exposed above the cross-collar of the youth’s robe.
Shifting his gaze slightly downward, Xie Zi’an noticed that the dark-patterned outer garment the youth wore seemed thoroughly drenched, raindrops sliding in an orderly rhythm down his rising and falling chest.
Clever as Xie Zi’an was, he instantly deduced that this young man had just lied.
Who on earth went to sleep fully dressed like this? Especially without even changing out of their soaked outer clothes.
Xie Zi’an raised his head slightly, eager to get a clear look at the stranger’s face, but things didn’t go quite as he hoped. The brim of his hood slipped downward a fraction, leaving him with a view of only a sharp chin and a tiny silver chain dangling down from behind the youth’s ear.
The silver chain caught the eye in the dark night, swaying gently from side to side.
The motion was exceptionally soft, like a kitten scratching at someone’s palm, making almost no sound.
A sudden sense of déjà vu washed over Xie Zi’an, making him feel as though he had seen that chain somewhere before.
He abruptly recalled how the original novel repeatedly mentioned that among Yecheng’s aristocratic clans, only the ancestors of the Li family hailed from the Eastern Hu tribes, leading the family to retain many Eastern Hu customs. For instance, the younger male descendants often hung a Chang’an chain in their hair to pray for peace and safety across the years.
So… the person standing right in front of him wasn’t Zhao Chengxiao at all.
It was Li Hanchi the youth destined to become the ultimate villain of the entire book!
The hand Xie Zi’an had tucked inside his cloak couldn’t stop a slight tremor.
His memories of Li Hanchi slaughtering the city were vivid. Arrogant and megalomaniacal, Li Hanchi had gone so far as to turn Yecheng into a living hell just to exact his revenge.
The rain had eased slightly compared to before, making the surroundings grow abruptly quieter. Xie Zi’an could hear the youth’s breathing with crystalline clarity.
Then, a casual, lazy chuckle drifted down from above his head: “Cat got everyone’s tongues?”
Because they stood so close, the youth’s warm breath completely enveloped Xie Zi’an, feeling as though he were speaking directly into Xie Zi’an’s ear.
Frivolous and dissolute to the extreme.