The passenger boat slowly docked at Jinling Wharf, and Shen Ji and his party finally arrived in Jiangnan. A moist breeze, carrying water vapor and the faint fragrance of flowers, gently brushed their cheeks, a world apart from the dry solemnity of the capital. Shops lined the banks in dense rows, pedestrians streamed by like threads on a loom, and the cries of vendors, the creak of oars, and the clamor of laughter wove together into a bustling, lively tableau of Jiangnan street life.
However, the moment Shen Ji stepped off the gangplank, the system’s familiar cold, mechanical voice rang through his mind:
『Ding… urgent mission: rescue Imperial Envoy Censor Song Zhizhang.』
『Mission reward: 100 points.』
Shen Ji did not stop walking. As he went, he quickly rummaged through the original owner’s memories, his brow slightly furrowed. Song Zhizhang? Hadn’t this Imperial Envoy Censor been killed by mountain bandits while inspecting the Jiangnan disaster situation early last year? It was precisely because of his death that Prince Duan had personally come to Jiangnan to oversee flood relief.
Nearly a year had passed, yet the system had issued such a mission. It seemed Song Zhizhang was not dead, but secretly imprisoned. Shen Ji’s instincts told him that the conspiracy hidden behind this would have a profound impact on his trip to Jiangnan.
“Heir?” The duke’s residence shadow guard, disguised as an attendant beside him, asked in a low voice, clearly noticing his slight abnormality just now.
“It’s nothing.” Shen Ji quickly composed himself and suppressed the surging thoughts. “Let’s settle in and rest first.”
The group quietly moved into a secluded, elegant residence south of the city, a peaceful haven amid the bustle. It was property under the Yan family’s name, both safe and hidden.
After a brief settling-in, Shen Ji took two shadow guards with him to visit the Yan family.
The Yan family residence stood in Wenyuan Ward, where Jinling’s literary atmosphere was at its richest. With white walls, dark tiles, and an unpretentious, time-honored gate, it naturally exuded the refined and noble air of a century-old family of scholars and books. Upon learning that the Heir of the Pingyang Marquis had arrived in person, the Yan family’s old patriarch, Yan Huai, personally came out to welcome him.
Yan Huai was about sixty years old, with white hair and beard, a gaunt, clear-featured face, and a plain Confucian robe that made him seem all the more scholarly and elegant. He stepped forward and gave Shen Ji a solemn bow with clasped hands. “Heir Shen, your visit honors us, and I am remiss for not welcoming you from afar. This old man thanks the Heir for saving Shu’er’s life and helping my Yan family exact its revenge. With your powerful assistance this time, the entire Yan family is deeply grateful!”
Shen Ji hurriedly stepped forward to help him up. “Old Patriarch, you flatter me. I merely happened to be there at the right time. It was only a small effort, hardly worth mentioning.”
Yan Huai invited Shen Ji into the flower hall. After dismissing the attendants, Shen Ji skipped the usual pleasantries and went straight to the point, asking about the details of last year’s flood disaster, especially everything that had happened after Prince Duan arrived in Jiangnan.
Yan Huai let out a long sigh. “Last year’s flood disaster left the people displaced and the fields strewn with the dead. It was truly a great calamity for Jiangnan. The court allocated silver for flood relief, a boundless imperial grace, but…” He shook his head, his eyes full of pain and indignation. “Most of the relief grain was made up of moldy, spoiled old rice, and the whereabouts of the silver were murky beyond reckoning. Although my Yan family did its utmost to distribute porridge and medicine, we could hardly stem the tide. Whenever I think of it, my heart aches with grief and indignation.”
He then told Shen Ji, one by one, the intelligence the Yan family had secretly gathered.
Shen Ji listened intently. When Yan Huai finished, he pondered for a moment before asking, “Patriarch Yan, do you know anything about Imperial Envoy Censor Song Zhizhang? Rumor has it he was killed by mountain bandits. Is there some hidden truth behind it?”
Yan Huai was taken aback, his face showing confusion and regret. “Envoy Song? Of course I know of him. When I heard of Lord Song’s death back then, I grieved for a long while… a good official who spoke for the people, gone just like that. Why does the Heir suddenly ask about Lord Song? Have you discovered something?”
“When the news came at the time, Lord Song had died at the hands of bandits, his body and bones lost without a trace. If there truly is a hidden truth…” His tone grew heavy. “Then the person behind it must hold high position and great power, with no small scheme afoot.”
Shen Ji was not too disappointed.
Yan Huai insisted on keeping Shen Ji for dinner, and only after the meal did the party take their leave.
Song Zhizhang was undoubtedly the key figure in investigating the Jiangnan flood disaster. Yet whether from the intelligence already gathered or the Yan family’s information, this man had been completely erased by the mastermind behind the scenes, having long since “died” during last year’s flood relief.
Time was short. Shen Ji directly used 100 points in the system shop to exchange for a map and checked Song Zhizhang’s current location. As he made the exchange, he grumbled that the system was utterly heartless. A mere map tool cost 100 points, the same amount he earned for completing a mission to save one person.
Although the exchanged map could also show the movement trails of the people nearby, which was rather miraculous.
The map showed that Song Zhizhang’s location was actually in the Jinling Prefectural Office prison.
A nearly motionless dot marked with the name “Song Zhizhang” had four small dots pressed close around it, two of which were moving back and forth. The entire prefectural prison held very few prisoners, yet the corridor guards numbered more than forty. The map thoughtfully labeled each dot as “prisoner” or “guard,” which made Shen Ji marvel.
Zooming in further on the map, one could see that Song Zhizhang was imprisoned in the hidden cell at the very deepest part of the prison, isolated from the other cell blocks and connected by a winding descending tunnel that never saw daylight all year round.
The cell he occupied was extremely narrow, less than a quarter the size of an ordinary cell, more like a square hole forcibly chiseled out of rock. It was too low to stand in and too narrow to lie down in. He could only curl up like a beast all day, or sit hunched and stooped in silence. On the stone wall, there was only a palm-sized peephole, and even that admitted very little light.
Early the next morning, Shen Ji dispatched nearly all his men to continue gathering evidence of the crimes together with the Yan family.
He kept only four duke’s residence shadow guards at his side.
He spread out on the table a layout map of the Jinling Prefectural Office that he had drawn based on the system map, his finger resting on the prominently marked hidden cell. “This is where Imperial Envoy Censor Song Zhizhang is imprisoned… the man ordered here last year to inspect flood relief, a person rumored to have died along the way.” His tone was low. “He very likely holds key evidence of the Jiangnan flood disaster.”
“The few of you will head here later,” Shen Ji said, pointing to the kitchen and the stables on the map. “Set fires at these two places and make sure you draw away the prison guards. Withdraw immediately once the fire starts… no delays.” Chu Wei and the others nodded in acknowledgment and quietly left.
Just after breakfast, the Jinling Prefectural Office remained steeped in the drowsiness of early morning. Apart from the servants sweeping and the guards on patrol, the entire compound was shrouded in a dead silence.
The four slipped over the wall without a sound. Avoiding people, they quickly reached the vicinity of the kitchen and the stables, where only a few laborers were at work.
Chu Wei and his men moved swiftly. They went straight in, knocked the laborers out, gagged them, tied them up, and tossed them into the nearby bamboo grove. Then they splashed oil around the kitchen and the stables and set them alight. Thick smoke billowed up, and the men quickly withdrew.
“Fire! Quick! The kitchen’s on fire!”
“The stables! The horses are spooked! Somebody come quick!”
“Stop those spooked horses! Don’t let them charge into the inner courtyard!”
“Where’s the butler? Quick, report to the Prefect!”
…
Shouts of alarm and cries rang out, throwing the entire Jinling Prefectural Office into chaos. Shen Ji concealed himself by the outer wall of the prefectural prison, calmly watching the towering flames and the darting figures inside. On the system map, the dozens of dots representing the prison guards were rapidly moving toward the stables and the kitchen.
Shen Ji vaulted over and silently landed within the high wall. Taking advantage of the chaos, he nimbly dodged the few yamen runners scurrying about and headed swiftly toward the hidden cell.
The four guards watching Song Zhizhang had clearly sensed the abnormality outside. Their expressions grew even more wary, their eyes sweeping the surroundings like hawks.
Shen Ji flicked a few pebbles from his fingers, striking the corner not far from the hidden cell and producing a faint yet distinct sound. The two guards sitting by the low table rose at once, their long blades leaping from their sheaths. They exchanged a glance and moved forward cautiously to investigate.
The tunnel was dead silent; the uproar outside only made the stillness here so profound that a falling needle could be heard. The moment the two guards stepped into the shadow of the corner, Shen Ji suddenly materialized, phantomlike. A flash of cold light… the short blade precisely slashed across one man’s throat. Before the other could even react, Shen Ji had covered his mouth and nose, driving the blade tip into his back. Both crumpled to the ground without so much as a muffled grunt.
The faint sound of the bodies falling still alerted the other two. “Who’s there?!” With a low shout, the remaining two guards lunged from left and right, their strikes fierce and ruthless, their skill clearly far above that of the previous two.
The moment their blades met, Shen Ji felt a sense of familiarity… they were actually Prince Duan’s Residence shadow guards.
He twisted aside to evade the blade slicing straight down, the wind from the knife stinging his face. In a flash, the short blade in his hand flew out, streaking straight for the right guard’s heart. At the same time, he spun around and swept his left leg backward, which the left guard barely managed to block. Before the man could make another move, Shen Ji directly used his ability to form an ice blade and slashed it across that guard’s throat.
With the guards dealt with, Shen Ji strode forward. The entrance to the hidden cell was fitted with a mechanism, nearly seamless with the wall and difficult to detect.
He pressed his palm against the cold wall and carefully probed with his mental energy. Soon, his fingertips applied a little force to a slightly loose brick…
“Click.”
With a soft sound, the brick sank inward. The seemingly seamless stone wall slowly slid aside, revealing a gap just wide enough for one person to pass through. In an instant, a chill, damp breath mixed with the stench of mold, moisture, and a faint trace of blood rushed at his face.
Shen Ji slipped inside, and the gap closed silently behind him. Before him was a narrow, cramped stone staircase descending into the depths, where a faint glimmer of firelight flickered far below.
He descended the steps, spreading out his mental energy, alert to everything around him. At the end of the stairs, a dim oil lamp hung on the wall of the secret cell, barely illuminating a dark shadow huddled on the ground.
Looking closely, the figure was nothing but skin and bones, a mere rack of bones with hardly any trace of human form left. His clothes were tattered, stained with filth and dried blood. His long hair and beard were tangled into matted knots, and his whole body reeked of festering rot and death.
He lay curled on the moldy straw in the corner, his breathing so faint it was nearly imperceptible. Only the extremely slight rise and fall of his chest proved he was still stubbornly clinging to his final breath.
Shen Ji crouched down and felt for the pulse at his neck, his brows tightly knit. He silently cursed the system… it was always issuing missions at the brink of death. One step later, and the man would have gone cold, and the mission would have failed outright.
The system silently played dead, not daring to make a peep.
“Lord Song?” Shen Ji called in a low voice.
The man on the ground gave no response, deep in a coma.
Sensing Song Zhizhang’s life force draining away at terrifying speed, Shen Ji hesitated no longer. 『System, exchange for a potent vitality pill!』
Watching his point balance drop to zero in an instant, Shen Ji felt a pang of heartache. A medicinal pill radiating a rich herbal fragrance appeared in his palm. He quickly dissolved it in water and carefully fed it into Song Zhizhang’s mouth. The pill dissolved the moment it touched his lips, and a surging vitality swiftly flooded through his limbs and bones, beginning to repair the broken, failing body.
Within moments, Song Zhizhang’s breathing visibly grew stronger and steadier.
Almost at the same time, the system’s slightly sheepish mechanical hint sounded:
『Ding… detected that the key figure Song Zhizhang is out of mortal danger. Mission complete. Reward of 100 points is issued. Current total points: 100.』
Shen Ji: “…” After all that work and risking life and limb, he had actually come out of it having paid points out of pocket.
Whatever. Shen Ji consoled himself. He would just treat it as an experience of traveling to another world. He had no energy left to complain about how heartless the system was.
“What’s going on?!”
“An intruder has broken in!”
“Quick! Search every corner carefully!”
The clatter of chaotic footsteps and urgent shouts suddenly came from the entrance above the tunnel. Clearly, the guards’ bodies had been discovered.
Going back the way he came was no longer possible! Shen Ji’s eyes sharpened. His gaze swept swiftly over a spot on the system map adjacent to the prefectural office’s outer wall, and a decision immediately formed in his mind.
He shifted the still-unconscious Song Zhizhang to a position behind him, then let his mental energy and ability surge forth, gathering them into his palm. He struck out violently toward the calculated direction…
“Boom…” A dull, booming sound. The stone wall disintegrated from within under an invisible, immense force. Bricks and stone dust rained down, and a hole large enough for one person to pass through was forcibly smashed open. Fresh air from outside the wall rushed in along with the dust.
Without the slightest hesitation, Shen Ji hoisted Song Zhizhang onto his back and fled swiftly through the broken opening. Beyond the wall lay a secluded, narrow alley.
Securing the man tightly to his back, Shen Ji relied on his mental energy and the map cheat to evade wave after wave of yamen runners and guards searching back and forth. Though there were moments of alarm, he got through with no real danger, finally bringing Song Zhizhang back to the private residence in the south of the city.