That was the tomb of Lord Chang’an Cheng Jiao.
Originally, Lord Chang’an should have been buried in Xianyang, alongside King Zhuangxiang of Qin, but King Ying Zheng of Qin deliberately buried him here.
Since Ji Sheng was once Cheng Jiao’s subordinate, he would certainly seek out his former master’s tomb.
Wang Ben mobilized his Black Armor Soldiers and hurried toward Cheng Jiao’s burial site, with Zhao Yuanxi leading his men to follow.
In the darkness, Ziying clutched Ji Sheng’s clothes, sobbing softly, “Zhong Fu, can we go back? I don’t want to see Father anymore. Ziying wants to go home. Ziying wants Da Mu.”
He was terrified. Just before falling asleep, he had been by Da Mu’s side, but when he woke up, only Zhong Fu remained around him.
Zhong Fu had said he would take him to find Father, and he had been happy at first.
But he had been here for a whole day, and aside from stones, there was nothing here.
To make matters worse, Zhong Fu had become so fierce—not only refusing to let him return but also making him kneel here. He felt exhausted, his legs ached, and he missed Da Mu terribly.
Ziying’s eyes were swollen and red from crying, his voice hoarse, but Ji Sheng showed no trace of compassion, continuing to burn paper in the fire basin on his own.
“My lord, your subordinate is incompetent. Yu Nuo has escaped, and our remaining men have been exposed. I must take the young master and leave. After today, I do not know when we will meet again.” Ji Sheng could not hold back his tears.
Ziying was bewildered. “Zhong Fu, where are we going? Aren’t we staying in Yongcheng anymore?”
Ji Sheng wiped his tears. “Young master, this place is not yours. Do you see Xianyang in the distance? That is where you belong. One day, I will take you back to reclaim everything that is rightfully yours.”
Ziying fell silent. All he saw was a dark, distant expanse. Besides, wasn’t Xianyang the King of Qin’s? He wasn’t the King of Qin!
Did Zhong Fu intend to seize Xianyang from Uncle the King?
Ziying fidgeted with his hands. Da Mu had said it was wrong to take things from others, and he also felt he couldn’t possibly win against Uncle.
Zhong Fu must have gone mad.
Ziying felt like crying again. If Da Mu were here, she would surely know how to stop Zhong Fu.
“Seize Xianyang? With just you?”
Suddenly, the pitch-black surroundings were illuminated by torches.
Ji Sheng was startled and instinctively grabbed Ziying, using him as a shield in front of himself. He said resentfully, “Cheng Jiao was the late king’s true son. Ying Zheng is nothing but a bastard of unknown parentage—what right does he have to inherit the throne? I am merely setting things right!”
He shouted hysterically, “The successive kings of Qin are watching from here! They would never allow that bastard to defile the bloodline of the Qin royal family!”
Wang Ben nervously glanced behind him as Zhao Yuanxi slowly emerged from the crowd. Seeing Ziying’s flushed face, Zhao Yuanxi’s fists clenched instantly. “If you have something to say, say it properly. First, put the child down.”
It was one thing for this man to indulge in self-pity, but using a child as a human shield was utterly despicable.
“You—” Ji Sheng was taken aback. “How did you get here?”
“You kidnapped my grandson, so of course I came to find him. I’ll give you one chance—put Ziying down, and I might spare your life.”
Ji Sheng took a step back, showing no intention of releasing the child.
It seemed negotiations had failed. Zhao Yuanxi sighed and turned to look at Wang Ben.
Wang Ben understood immediately. He stepped forward, swinging his long halberd with a sharp whistle through the air.
Ji Sheng’s face darkened. He knew he had no way out but still refused to yield. “I will let you take Young Master Ziying, but only on the condition that you let me leave.”
As long as he could escape safely, there would still be a chance. Once he found Yu Nuo, it wasn’t impossible for Prince Ziying to become king.
Moreover, Prince Ziying was the grandson of the King of Qin—Ying Zheng wouldn’t kill him.
Ji Sheng slowly convinced himself.
He didn’t notice at all that Ziying in his arms, feet dangling in the air, was being held under Ji Sheng’s arm so tightly he could barely make a sound.
“Your demand—”
A cold arrow shot from behind Ji Sheng, piercing straight through his chest.
“I cannot agree to.” Zhao Yuanxi’s voice drifted over faintly.
Ji Sheng collapsed in disbelief, dropping Ziying to the ground.
Zhao Yuanxi hurried over, quickly picking up Ziying and gently patting his back to comfort him. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. Da Mu has found you! I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
The emotions bottled up all day finally erupted. Ziying burst into loud sobs, tears blurring his face as he clung tightly to Zhao Yuanxi’s arm, burying his head completely in her embrace.
Zhao Yuanxi softly comforted him until the child’s cries gradually subsided, leaving only occasional sniffles.
As Zhao Yuanxi prepared to leave with Ziying, someone suddenly grabbed her ankle. The eerie sensation sent chills down her spine.
She instinctively kicked the person away, but Ji Sheng refused to let go, staring fixedly at Ziying in her arms, blood trickling from his mouth. “My—my prince, don’t forget your father—remember to return—”
This old wretch, even on death’s door, still harbored such malicious intentions!
Furious, Zhao Yuanxi delivered a hard kick to his chest, cursing as she struck.
“Do you think you’re loyal? Marquis Chang’an is right here, watching you use his son as a hostage! What kind of loyal subordinate does that, you old traitorous slave, heartless scum!”
“Still patting yourself on the back? You people caused your own master’s death and now won’t even spare his child!”
“Besides, are your eyes and ears useless too? Who told you my Zheng’er’s father is unknown? I gave birth to him—do you think I don’t know who his father is? Does Zichu not know what his own son looks like? Are the Qin royal relatives all blind as well?”
“You think you’re clever, but you only see what you want to see, daydreaming about unrealistic fantasies all day long.”
“You’re morally corrupt, despicable, self-righteous, and a fool beyond measure, you worthless wretch!”
Zhao Yuanxi, utterly enraged, abandoned all decorum, hurling insults and delivering several more sharp kicks to Ji Sheng’s chest.
The assault made Ji Sheng cough up blood, and he pointed a trembling finger at Zhao Yuanxi. “You vicious woman!”
Seeing him spew blood profusely, Zhao Yuanxi grew frightened. Clutching Ziying, she scrambled backward, positioning Wang Ben as a shield.
Better him than me! If he’s going to die, don’t stare at me—it’s terrifying!
Wang Ben was speechless, unsure whether to call the Empress Dowager too timid or too bold.
And that cursing earlier—
He felt like he was dreaming.
Taking a deep breath, he waved his hand, ordering his men to take away Ji Sheng, who was barely clinging to life.
Zhang Han leaped down from the roof, holding a longbow. Only then did Zhao Yuanxi realize he was the one who had fired the arrow.
She gave him a thumbs-up. “Well done. I’ll have Gao Sheng give you three months’ extra pay when we return.”
At this, not only were the men from Yongcheng filled with envy, but even the Black Armor Soldiers under Wang Ben couldn’t help feeling jealous.
Most people enlist just to make a living. As the king’s personal guards, the Black Armor Soldiers naturally receive the best treatment, but now they realize they might not even compare to a mere guard by the empress dowager’s side.