“Cough, cough, it’s getting a bit stuffy. I’m going to head out of the estate for a stroll.”
Taking the familiar route to [Shengge Brew] that he had already walked many times before, Shinian had the path completely memorized. Besides, it was very close to the West City exit, making it convenient for him to slip away.
He quietly swept a glance at the guards behind him: there were two accompanying him openly, with another three hidden in the shadows.
Tsk, security is really strict. This is going to be a bit tricky.
“Ah, my stomach hurts so much.” Clutching his stomach with a pained expression, Shinian put on a convincing act, looking exceptionally miserable.
Seeing this, the guards immediately hurried forward to support him. “Young Master, are you alright?”
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, I can’t take it anymore, hurry and take me to a medical clinic to get checked out.”
Seeing him in such severe pain, the guards didn’t hesitate for a moment and immediately brought him to the nearest clinic.
This was a clinic Shinian had scoped out beforehand. When he was passing by in a rush earlier, he had stepped in to use the facilities and discovered that the restroom led straight into a small alley heaven truly was helping him.
“I can’t hold it in, it must be something I ate. Doctor, where’s the outhouse?” Shinian started kicking up a fuss the moment he stepped inside the clinic. “You two wait for me right here, okay?”
Successfully entering the alley, Shinian cheered inwardly. Step one was cleared, so now for step two…
“Young Master, where are you going?” Three burly men walked out from ahead, blocking his path.
“Hello, hello! Did you guys come to use the restroom too?” Shinian offered an awkward smile as he watched them close in step by step. “Big brothers, do you really have to do this? Attacking a police officer is a serious crime!”
Just as the guards were about to make a move, Shinian acted faster, throwing out a handful of powder anaesthetic powder he had stealthily swiped from the clinic.
“The latest model of anti-wolf spray, like it?”
Shinian blinked mischievously, pivoted on his heel, stepped onto a pile of debris nearby, and agilely vaulted over the wall. Before leaving, looking at the three men who had grown weak in all limbs and collapsed onto the ground, he let out a cheerful whistle:
“Tell your Prime Minister Lord that we shall never meet again. Bye-bye.”
[Dinfu Fragrant Residence]
Ji Yanche had already reserved a private room. The room faced the window with an expansive view, offering a clear sight of the bustling street below and a vibrant atmosphere of everyday folk life that washed over them. Meng Qing liked this kind of environment very much.
Since there was still some time before Ji Yanche finished court and arrived, Meng Qing ordered the dishes first, waiting while enjoying the scenery outside the window.
Inadvertently, his peripheral vision caught a small stall selling ice jelly down on the street.
They were still selling shaved ice in this season? Hot pot paired with ice jelly sounded quite nice; he wanted to try some.
“Dushun, run downstairs and buy a bowl of ice jelly. Make it brown sugar flavor,” Meng Qing turned to instruct Dushun.
“Understood, this old servant will go down and buy it right away. The Consort can just wait here.” Giving a quick acknowledgment, Dushun hurried downstairs.
Outside the window, the crowd bustled with activity as Meng Qing watched Dushun’s figure vanish into the throngs of people.
“Honored guest, your dishes.” A low voice sounded.
Meng Qing gave an absentminded response without paying much attention, his focus still anchored outside the window. But suddenly, as if realizing something, his expression froze. Weren’t all the dishes already served? So who is this person?
Something’s wrong.
A surge of intense unease welled up inside Meng Qing. He wanted to cry out for help, but it was already too late.
The handkerchief in that person’s hand was saturated with a sedating drug, clapping directly over his mouth. Before Meng Qing could even manage to struggle, his entire body lost all strength, and darkness swallowed his vision as he passed out.
The Prince’s troops and guards tightly encircled Dinfu Fragrant Residence layer upon layer. With a stern, grim expression, Ji Yanche strode forward with long, heavy steps, followed closely behind by Chen Ping.
When Chenbi had rushed over to deliver the news that Meng Qing had been kidnapped, His Highness Prince Ning who always maintained an image of stately composure shattered in an instant, his footing stumbling unsteadily. At that moment, casting aside all etiquette and rules, he vaulted onto his horse and galloped all the way to this spot at breakneck speed.
“What happened?” Ji Yanche demanded, his voice dropping low like a freezing abyss, his face terrifyingly dark and gloomy.
At this very moment, his warm and refined facade was thoroughly torn away, revealing a biting chill and a murderous aura straight from the underworld, resembling a Rakshasa King presiding over life and death.
“At the time, the Consort said he wanted to eat ice jelly, so this old servant went downstairs to buy it. But when I returned, I found the guards outside the door drugged unconscious on the ground, and the Consort was gone.” Dushun’s face was drained of all color, his voice laced with tears as self-reproach and sheer terror consumed him. “Just who on earth has our Consort offended? How could he end up kidnapped like this out of nowhere?”
Ji Yanche slowly closed his eyes, fists clenching so tightly that the veins on the back of his hands bulged. A guess had already formed within his heart.
Zhao Tianying. It’s him.
This was revenge. Zhao Tianying would surely harm Meng Qing, torture him, humiliate him, and perhaps even cruelly murder him… Every single possibility that flashed through Ji Yanche’s mind made his heart feel as though it were being sliced into a thousand pieces, aching intolerably to the point that even his voice trembled slightly and proved impossible to suppress.
“Chen Ping, immediately issue a proclamation across the entire city. Tell Zhao Tianying that whatever he wants is up for negotiation, with one absolute condition: he must not harm the Consort under any circumstances. Furthermore, mobilize additional personnel to launch a comprehensive search throughout the city; do not let a twenty-kilometer radius outside the city walls go unsearched either. Ensure the Consort is found within twelve hours.”
“Understood, this subordinate obeys!” Chen Ping accepted the order and quickly led his troops away, the thunderous clatter of horse hooves echoing sharply before vanishing at the end of the street.
“Chenbi, collect every single letter sent to the estate these past few days, and report any information immediately. Additionally, assemble the manor’s guards to fully cooperate with the Patrol Office in their investigation. Whoever manages to rescue the Consort will be heavily rewarded!”
“Yes!”
The damp straw piles mixed with the stench of blood. Meng Qing’s wrists were bound by iron chains, rubbing raw against his skin and drawing trickles of blood. As evening approached, the temperature plummeted. Intending to torture Meng Qing, they had deliberately splashed a basin of icy water over him.
“So cold.” Shivering uncontrollably from the freezing chill, Meng Qing wrapped his arms tightly around himself in a futile attempt to squeeze out a shred of warmth.
The people who kidnapped him gave him no food nor spoke a single word to him. Meng Qing had no idea who they were, nor could he fathom what their ultimate objective was.
Was it money? Her husband had plenty of money.
Was it lust? Yet they hadn’t touched him.
Two hours had already passed; why hadn’t Ji Yanche come to save him yet? The mere thought of Ji Yanche brought a wave of grievance welling up inside Meng Qing, his eye rims turning slightly red. He was starving and freezing, and goodness knew how much longer he would have to endure in this gloomy, terrifying place. Once he got out, he vowed he would eat a massive feast!
Right now, all he could do was conserve his energy while holding onto an optimistic mindset—believing that Ji Yanche would definitely find him as quickly as possible.
A faint gleam of light painted the horizon as the drumbeat of the fifth watch was torn to tatters by the mountain wind, shattering the silence of dawn. The hinges of the firewood room’s door let out a “creak,” piercing the morning stillness.
This seemed to be a mountainous region; the air was exceptionally dry, and Meng Qing was parched with a burning thirst. He swallowed with great difficulty, yet his throat felt as though it had been scraped by a knife, swelling up with stinging agony.
Oh no, it looks like I’m running a fever.
The ground was sticky and damp, the straw pricked painfully, and an obnoxious stench filled the air, making one want to retch. Meng Qing hadn’t slept a wink all night; his head felt dizzy and heavy, his wrists throbbed from the friction of the chains, and on top of that, he had to constantly stay on guard against the kidnappers’ movements.
Consequently, Meng Qing’s mental state upon waking up was even worse. Reaching up to touch his forehead, he found it burning hot, and his eyelids grew increasingly heavy.
I just woke up, why am I sleepy again? No, it feels like I’m about to faint.