The Crown Prince furrowed his brow, impatience in his voice: “What’s the fuss? What happened?”
“The… the storerooms of the mansion, and even the private vaults in every courtyard… they’re… all empty!”
The official’s voice trembled as he swallowed, clearly shaken. “Not just the gold, jewels, and silks—there isn’t even a grain of rice, a bit of flour, or a drop of oil left. Even the Prince’s chambers are stripped bare—only the beds and tables remain. It’s as if someone completely emptied the residence!”
“What?!”
The Crown Prince’s eyes widened, disbelief freezing the smugness from his face. “Empty? How is that possible? The Jing Prince’s mansion has been accumulating wealth for years! Are you sure your search was thorough? Did you miss some place?”
The eldest prince’s face darkened instantly, and the third prince stepped forward, voice sharp: “Are you blind? Go check again! Search every hidden compartment in the storerooms, every cellar in the courtyards! I refuse to believe that in a mansion this large, there’s nothing at all!”
The official nodded frantically and rushed off to re-inspect.
Half an hour later, he returned, even paler than before. “Your Highness… it’s truly empty. We’ve checked all secret compartments and cellars. Not a single valuable item was found. Even the kitchen’s pots and pans are gone… it’s as if someone removed everything beforehand!”
Now even the Crown Prince panicked.
His intent in personally overseeing the confiscation had been to claim most of the Jing Prince’s accumulated treasures—gold, silver, rare antiques—all preassigned “spoils” for him and the other princes. Yet now… there was nothing.
“How could this be?!” The Crown Princess, too, lost her composure. “The mansion was intact just days ago. How could it be emptied? Is there a traitor?”
The eldest prince’s fists clenched, eyes dark with resentment. “Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Someone must have acted first! Who dares touch what I set my sights on?”
The third prince, in frustration, kicked over a nearby chair. “Damn it! All for nothing! We came to take the Jing Prince’s treasures, and it’s all an empty shell! That useless Xiao Jingyuan… even at death’s door, he’s still thwarting us!”
The fifth prince pouted, disappointed. “No treasures? Then why are we even here? A wasted trip, no gains at all!”
From derisive triumph, their faces had shifted to frustration and fury.
They glared at the supposedly “dying” Xiao Jingyuan on the ground, their eyes full of malice yet powerless.
Xiao Jingyuan, under their watchful eyes, felt a mix of amusement and curiosity.
The Crown Prince, seeing the empty mansion and the princes’ agitation, flushed alternately red and white. To have the expected spoils vanish not only robbed him of profit but also his dignity.
He gritted his teeth and barked at the official: “Since there’s nothing to seize, escort the prisoners immediately! Don’t waste any more time here!”
He swept out with a trace of embarrassment in his stride. The other princes followed, their previous arrogance gone, leaving only frustration and bitter disappointment.
A confiscation meant to yield rich rewards ended in absurdity.
Meng Wanqing slumped in her prison cart, staring at the empty Jing Prince mansion in disbelief.
Meng Father, Mother, and the four brothers, crowded into the adjacent cart, exchanged worried, confused glances.
“How… how can not a single thing remain?”
Meng Mother whispered shakily, “Even if there were thieves, the mansion… a Prince’s residence… it couldn’t possibly be completely emptied…”
Just days ago, the storerooms were overflowing with treasures.
How could everything vanish in such a short time?
Meng Yunzeng frowned, face stern: “It must be the same band that looted the estates of powerful families! If they dared touch the Mengs and others, then even the Prince’s mansion isn’t safe!”
The rest nodded in agreement.
Meng Yunchong added with certainty, “That’s the only explanation! Otherwise, how could so many valuables disappear? They dared even steal the Prince’s possessions—unthinkable! Not afraid of losing their heads?”
No one suspected Meng Wantang. They assumed it was an audacious “band of thieves,” and trembled at the thought of future troubles while lamenting their lost wealth.
Meng Wanqing, listening to their chatter, felt an inexplicable unease.
Something didn’t feel right—but she couldn’t pinpoint it. She bit her lip tightly.
Ahead, the exile procession moved along.
Her eyes filled with despair—no Prince’s mansion, no title as Prince’s consort.
Her future seemed certain to descend into hell.
Meanwhile, Xiao Jingyuan lay on a simple wooden cart, covered with a rough cloth, maintaining the appearance of near death.
Yet behind his closed eyelids, his pupils shifted subtly, his mind racing.
He hadn’t expected the mansion to be completely emptied.
Before departure, he had anticipated the Crown Prince’s confiscation, but hadn’t considered relocating the wealth—it was all superfluous to him. Yet now… an empty mansion was beyond expectation.
He even wondered if it truly was the work of the mysterious thieves.
Yet their swiftness, bypassing his hidden guards, felt… unnatural.
As he pondered, he sensed a gaze upon him. He cracked open an eyelid.
By the roadside stood Meng Wantang, holding Xiao Muyan.
Her coarse, faded garment fluttered in the wind, but her upright posture could not be hidden. Sunlight outlined her delicate features, the simplicity of her clothing failing to conceal her elegance.
She gently patted Xiao Muyan’s head, maternal warmth in her eyes, vastly different from her usual cunning and lively expression.
Their eyes met. Xiao Jingyuan’s heart skipped. A subtle, unfamiliar feeling stirred.
He looked away, flustered, ears burning.
Meng Wantang, noticing his gaze, merely gave a calm glance before returning to comforting Xiao Muyan.
Xiao Muyan, weary from the bumpy journey, held her sleeve tightly. “Mother, how much longer? I’m a little tired.”
“Almost there, Muyan. A little longer, then we’ll rest at the station,” Meng Wantang said softly, her touch feather-light.
Yet a faint, sharp gleam passed through her eyes.
She knew exactly what Xiao Jingyuan was thinking—and knew he would not suspect her.
The secret of the hidden space remained her greatest advantage. She would not reveal a hint.
Xiao Jingyuan, lying in the cart, listened to her gentle words, feeling that strange emotion grow stronger.
He looked again at her, holding the child, and somehow the desolation of exile felt warmer in her presence.
He cleared his throat lightly and closed his eyes, concealing the complexity in his heart, though his curiosity about Meng Wantang only deepened.
Suddenly, a commotion arose ahead.
Meng Yunchong raised his head, eyes wide. “Is… is that Imperial Advisor Rong Jue?!”