After learning the approximate location of Tianlu Palace from Jinzhong, Yan Xiaoying said no more about the orchid and smoothly steered the conversation elsewhere.
If her elder brother was truly being confined in a deserted palace cut off from the rest of the grounds, Uncle Hai could hardly appear there under the pretense of collecting chamber pots. He was old and slow-moving. If he were discovered, he would have no chance of escaping.
It seemed she would have to investigate personally and determine whether Tianlu Palace was indeed where her brother was being held.
Sneaking into a palace at night was always the worst option. Security within the imperial grounds was actually stricter after dark than during the day.
As Crown Prince, she enjoyed more freedom than most people. As long as she avoided the consorts’ quarters and stayed out of the Empress’s sight, moving about was relatively easy. Why resort to skulking around under cover of darkness?
So, taking advantage of the scorching afternoon heat, when people’s minds tended to grow sluggish, she packed the items she needed into an oilcloth bundle and tucked it inside her robes. Claiming she was taking a walk to aid digestion, she wandered through the gardens, then used a stomachache as an excuse to visit one of the garden’s side rooms. Repeating her old trick, she slipped out through a window and shook off the two guards assigned to follow her.
Getting there was simple enough. Since a large section of the palace wall bordered the lake, she only needed to swim across the palace lake.
An iron grille lay beneath the water, but Uncle Hai had long ago hidden a sturdy pry bar in the lakeside grass. She used it to force open a gap and, taking advantage of her slender frame, squeezed through.
When Yan Xiaoying emerged from the lake, she found herself surrounded by abandoned halls and desolate courtyards. The place appeared to have stood empty for decades.
From the waterproof bundle hanging at her side, she pulled out a set of clean clothes and changed quickly, careful not to leave any telltale water stains.
Tianlu Palace lay beyond a narrow passageway sealed off with iron bars.
After making sure no one was around, she nimbly scaled the fence, twice a man’s height. Following a stone path overgrown with weeds and winding through several turns, she arrived before a palace whose eaves were crumbling and whose grounds were choked with wild grass.
There should have been guards stationed outside. They certainly knew how to make themselves comfortable. A wooden bench had been dragged to the front of the entrance, and discarded clothing and teacups lay scattered across it.
Apparently the guards had gone off to eat and rest and had not yet returned, leaving the post completely unattended.
Then again, in such a desolate place, no assassin would think to visit. And with the palace gates secured by heavy iron locks from the outside, there was little danger of anyone breaking in—no wonder the guards felt comfortable abandoning their station and slacking off.
Yan Xiaoying circled behind a section of the palace wall and pulled out a homemade grappling hook from inside her robes.
She had quietly pilfered the rope from the Ministry of the Imperial Household’s storerooms, and fashioned the hook from a grass rake she had dismantled in the imperial gardens.
Once the hook caught the edge of the wall, she climbed swiftly like a nimble swallow, scaled the barrier, and neatly dropped into the palace courtyard.
Inside the walls, the place was even more desolate than outside. The reeds had grown taller than a man, a sure sign that no one had tended the grounds for years.
When she pushed open a battered door, a wave of moldy, rotting air rushed out to greet her. This was nothing like the place where she had met Feng Qiyuan.
Realizing she had come to the wrong location, Yan Xiaoying immediately decided to leave. But at that very moment, a dark figure lunged at her with the force of the wind.
Yan Xiaoying tilted her head and barely evaded the attack. The fist slammed squarely into the doorframe beside her head.
With a sharp crack, the wooden frame shattered. Splinters exploded outward, several of them scraping across Yan Xiaoying’s delicate cheek.
Focusing her gaze, she saw a bizarre figure charging toward her. His hair hung in filthy, matted clumps, his clothes were rags, and a foul stench emanated from his body.
Anyone lacking composure would likely have cried out in fright at the sudden appearance of what looked like a monster.
The man was tall and gaunt, yet possessed terrifying strength, as if gifted with it from birth. Every punch landed with the force of a sledgehammer or a battle axe. If she kept holding back, her head would soon meet one of those iron fists.
Not daring to relax her guard, Yan Xiaoying dodged quickly. Unfortunately, the man fought with no discernible technique at all. His attacks were nothing but the wild, reckless flailing of a madman. Though she had trained in martial arts since childhood under her adoptive father, even she found it difficult to withstand such a relentless barrage. If this continued, she would eventually exhaust herself and be beaten to death.
Making a split-second decision, she waited for the next iron fist to strike. When it came, she tilted her head slightly and let the blow smash into her crown. The hairpin securing it snapped at once, and her damp black hair cascaded loose like a spreading mass of dark vines.
With a fierce flick of her head, she sent the tangled strands whipping across the man’s face. His vision obscured, he instinctively raised a hand to brush the hair aside.
Seizing that brief opening, Yan Xiaoying bent down, snatched up the broken hairpin, and viciously drove it into her assailant’s leg.
The man clearly had not expected such a counterattack. A muffled grunt escaped him as pain shot through his body.
Yan Xiaoying wasted no time. Before he could recover, she slipped behind him with a small-grappling technique. Her slender fingers found the area around his shoulder blade, and with a deft application of force, she dislocated his arm. Even the toughest soldier in a military camp would have cried out from the agony of having his joints and tendons twisted apart like that. Yet this strange figure, whose face was completely hidden by tangled hair and beard, merely let out another low grunt. Veins bulged across his forehead, but he made no further sound.
Using the rope she had brought with her, Yan Xiaoying swiftly bound him hand and foot. Then she grabbed his tattered collar, intending to tear off a strip of cloth and gag him so he couldn’t shout and attract attention.
But judging from his taciturn, tight-lipped demeanor, that precaution seemed entirely unnecessary.
The struggle had taken a toll on her. Every muscle in Yan Xiaoying’s body ached, and she felt weak all over. She sat down opposite the strange man, intending to catch her breath before deciding what to do next.
By now, her hair hung loose around her shoulders, still damp and clinging to her robes, making her already delicate features appear even more striking.
She should have looked as fragile as a flower. Yet the spirited brightness in her eyes and the untamed confidence in her brow lent her a wild vitality, the sort of vigor that could only be nurtured in the mountains and countryside.
Whether from pain or some other reason, the man lay motionless on the ground. Behind curtains of knotted hair, his fierce eyes remained fixed on the beautiful young woman before him. Like a bound beast, he crouched in silence, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to strike back.
Seeing that he neither shouted nor struggled, and apparently had no idea who she was, Yan Xiaoying gathered her hair back into a bun and asked,
“What exactly are you?”
When he offered no response, she merely shrugged and rose to examine their surroundings.
This fellow had some strange habits. Tied to one of the veranda pillars was a mouse with a wire loop fastened around its neck. A dish of food sat before it. Though deprived of its freedom, the hungry creature was eating with desperate urgency.
The strange man turned his gaze toward the mouse, and at the same time his stomach let out a series of loud growls. He was clearly starving.
After the mouse had been eating for a while, the man suddenly began wriggling forward. Enduring the pain of his injuries, he crawled laboriously toward the dish and then, like a feral dog, started wolfing down the food, competing with the mouse for every bite.
Yan Xiaoying felt she had witnessed many forms of human suffering in her life. Yet she had never imagined that within a place once imbued with the majesty of the imperial family, someone could live a life worse than that of an animal. By now, she had already guessed this man must be the First Prince, the one rumored to suffer from madness. Yet no matter how insane he might be, he still bore the title of prince. And still, no one looked after him. They had discarded him in this abandoned palace and left him to fend for himself.
Earlier, beneath the palace gate, she had noticed a small square opening, no more than three inches across, stained with grease around the edges. It was likely a hidden hatch through which meals were passed inside.
Jinzhong had mentioned that the First Prince was violent and unstable. The guards probably had no desire to risk being beaten by a madman, so they delivered food through the hatch without ever entering or coming into direct contact with him.
Given how lazy those guards seemed, the prince probably didn’t even receive his three meals a day reliably.
In one corner of the room, she spotted numerous tiny white bones. Judging from their shape, they were the remains of mice, picked completely clean.
The First Prince might have lost his sanity, but he was not stupid. He had learned to keep mice as an emergency food supply so that he would not starve to death.
Beneath the eaves sat several battered vases and cracked earthen jars, evidently arranged to collect rainwater.
Just then, a single mouthful of rice remained on the plate. Yet the man no longer devoured the food like a starving whirlwind. Enduring the pain in his arm, he struggled to sit up and nudged the plate into a corner with his foot.
There was a mouse hole there. That last bite of leftover rice was bait, meant to lure more mice and ensure a continuing food supply.
Looking more closely, Yan Xiaoying realized that although the courtyard was impoverished and decrepit, it contained quite a few cleverly crafted items.
The rainwater ladle, for example, seemed carved from a turtle shell. One of the man’s shoe soles had come loose, yet he had twisted hemp grass into cord and tied it back together himself. Various staffs and tools fashioned from pieces of broken furniture also leaned beneath the window.
Despite the palace’s desolation, it carried the atmosphere of a mountain recluse’s dwelling, filled with the signs of someone surviving through ingenuity and self-reliance.
Reduced to such miserable circumstances, yet still managing to maintain a semblance of daily life, with bowls and pots, meat and vegetables, everything arranged in its proper place… it was honestly rather admirable.
If this man were not the madman who had nearly drowned her elder brother, Yan Xiaoying might even have praised him aloud.
Since he was clearly insane, there was no point in questioning him further about the incident. When all was said and done, he was no different from her brother, Feng Qiyuan. Both were pitiful souls trapped behind these palace walls.
While Yan Xiaoying continued exploring the grounds, she finally spotted the rare orchid known as “Snow-Soaked” (Jinxue) growing in a corner near the palace wall.
Someone had evidently cared for these orchids. The lush cluster grew free of weeds, unlike the rest of the courtyard. Several stalks had even crept through cracks in the palace wall and spread beyond it.
A sudden idea flashed through Yan Xiaoying’s mind. Using her grappling hook again, she secured it to the wall and climbed up until she could peer over to the other side.
A broad, dried-up drainage channel separated the neighboring compound from this one. The rare orchids had extended their roots across the channel, continuing into the palace grounds beyond.
Unlike the abandoned ruin on this side, the compound across the channel was neat and well-maintained.
The two palaces stood back to back, divided by high walls and completely isolated from one another. Listening carefully, she could faintly hear voices. A few eunuchs moved about within, and security was tight. More than a dozen guards stood watch. After listening for a while longer, she caught the faint strains of a high-pitched operatic melody drifting from a palace building whose doors remained tightly shut. It sounded very much like her brother, Feng Qiyuan.
The moment she heard that familiar singing style, Yan Xiaoying knew with certainty that her brother was being imprisoned in the compound on the far side of the dry channel.
With guards everywhere, she dared not linger. Retracing her route, she rappelled down the wall and returned to Tianlu Palace. At last, she had found a clue to her brother’s whereabouts. The only problem now was how to deal with the bound madman in front of her so that future visits would be more convenient.
After a moment’s thought, Yan Xiaoying pulled a candied date from a small pouch at her waist and held it out before him. “Want one?”
Fortunately, she had a habit of carrying snacks with her. Right now, they might prove useful in calming a dangerous lunatic.
From beneath his tangled, filthy hair, the man fixed the candied date with a wild beast’s wary gaze.
Yan Xiaoying simply placed it on the ground before him and wandered out of the hall to inspect the surroundings.
Later, when she circled outside and peered through a crack in the window, she saw the man swallow several times. Then, with a sweep of his long leg, he kicked the date over to the mouse that remained tied nearby.
Only after the mouse eagerly ate the date and showed no ill effects did the man hurry down, scoop up the remaining date from the ground, and swallow it whole, pit and all.
Well, look at that, Yan Xiaoying thought. He even knows to use a mouse to test for poison. He doesn’t seem completely mad after all.
She knew the deep palace concealed countless dark secrets, and that many people in this world were both pitiable and tragic. She had no intention of digging into the mad prince’s past.
As long as even a shred of reason remained in him, there was room to negotiate and work together.
To avoid unnecessary complications, Yan Xiaoying could not simply kill the madman. If the guards discovered anything amiss, it might alert the neighboring compound. And if the Empress became alarmed and decided to move her brother elsewhere, finding him again would become far more difficult.
With that in mind, she walked over to the madman with a cheerful smile. “Hey, I’ll be coming to visit you often from now on. But next time you see me, you can’t just start attacking me. If you beat me to death, you won’t get to eat such delicious treats anymore. Tell me, what would you like to eat next time?”
The madman said nothing. He swallowed the candied date and kept staring at Yan Xiaoying with the cold, wolf-like gaze of a predator.
Taking it in stride, Yan Xiaoying grinned and reset his dislocated arm for him. “There,” she said tentatively. “I’m going to untie you, but you mustn’t hit anyone.”
With that, she walked behind him and loosened the ropes, testing whether he could still understand human speech.
The madman seemed to realize that Yan Xiaoying harbored no real ill will toward him. Or perhaps he simply knew he could not defeat her. Rolling his newly restored shoulder, he rose and limped to the eaves, where he used water to wash the wound in his thigh left by the hairpin. Streams of diluted blood ran off with the water, carrying a faint metallic scent.
Noticing how crudely he was tending the injury, Yan Xiaoying stepped outside into the overgrown courtyard. After a short search among the weeds, she found a low creeping herb and brought it back to him.
“This is called di jin cao (prostrate spurge). It helps stop bleeding. Chew it into a paste and apply it to the wound for now. When I come back tomorrow, I’ll bring proper medicine for you.”
After a pause, she added, “Remember, don’t tell anyone about me. Otherwise I won’t be able to bring you food anymore.”
The madman remained motionless, his back still turned toward her. Beneath the setting sun, his partially exposed back blended into the shadows cast by the dilapidated palace buildings.