Chapter 4: Surveillance

Xie Chongqing followed Yan Yi to Yan Ling’s residence in the Yanling traveling palace—the Zhangyun Hall. Their sleeping quarters were far apart, separated by a covered corridor. If one wished to find Yan Ling, one had to walk around the corridor.

“Your Highness.”
The palace maid guarding the bedchamber bowed when she saw Yan Yi bringing a stranger over, then cast a wary glance at Xie Chongqing.

Yan Yi spotted Hanlu and beckoned her over. “Perfect timing. Hanlu, go into A-Ling’s room and fetch a few pieces of her close-fitting clothes. Lord Xie keeps a hunting dog—its nose can pick up a scent from a hundred li away. It might be able to find someone.”

Hanlu hesitated. Xie Chongqing suddenly said, “Wouldn’t it be better to bring the hunting dog in to inspect the room directly? Once clothes pass through someone’s hands, the scent might be altered.”

Yan Yi’s eyes lit up. “That makes sense.”

“Wait.” Hanlu’s expression changed. Yan Yi looked at her, puzzled. “What is it?”

“The room is rather messy. Allow this servant to tidy up some clutter first.” Hanlu forced a smile, thinking quickly.

Xie Chongqing replied meaningfully, “Best not to move anything inside. Every extra person who enters only muddles the scent.”

Cold sweat broke out on Hanlu’s back, the chill spreading to her limbs.

Xie Chongqing ordered his accompanying guard, Yuan Che, to fetch the dog, while he himself stood calmly before the door, arms crossed, waiting.

Hanlu stood stiffly, lifting her eyes to steal a cautious glance at him.

Before long, Yuan Che arrived outside Yan Ling’s chambers, leading a pitch-black hunting dog that looked almost uncanny. Its eyes gleamed coldly. Hanlu had barely met its gaze twice when the dog suddenly went berserk, lunging wildly at her.

Fortunately, Yuan Che held the leash tightly, but the beast’s ferocious, savage appearance still left a deep shadow in Hanlu’s heart.

The door opened. Xie Chongqing took the leash and led the dog inside. Hanlu tried to follow, but Yuan Che blocked her. “The fewer people who go in, the less the scent will be disturbed.”

Xie Chongqing swept his gaze around the room. The chamber bore not the slightest trace of feminine décor or personal effects. The hunting dog sniffed everywhere. Hanlu stood on tiptoe, her heart lodged in her throat.

She was terrified the dog might sniff out something it shouldn’t.

Yuan Che cut off her line of sight, his face cold. “What does the female scribe mean by this? Could it be you fear my lord might steal the Twelfth Prince’s belongings?”

Hanlu hurriedly lowered her head. “This servant would never dare.”

The dog paused by a flower stand. Xie Chongqing lowered his gaze, watching closely. His wide sleeve brushed past a feather-light vase. The vase was hollow; a small box hidden at its base slipped soundlessly into his sleeve.

“Stop him!”
Sudden commotion erupted outside. Hearing it, Xie Chongqing turned back calmly, leading the dog out.

Fu Li burst past the guards and stormed into the room, murderous intent clinging to him. He ran straight into Xie Chongqing. His brows were dark with fury, a smear of dirt clinging to the scarred line of his broken eyebrow.

“Hey—Fu Li, calm down! Lord Xie is here to help,” Yan Yi quickly stepped in to block him, explaining and trying to placate him.

But the hunting dog Xie Chongqing held suddenly went mad again, lunging fiercely at Fu Li as if to tear him apart from a distance. The leash snapped taut; sharp fangs dripped silvery strands of saliva.

The dog was massive, almost wolf-like, yet Xie Chongqing stood immovable, calmly issuing commands to restrain it.

His gaze swept over the foreign s*ave before him and locked onto those gem-like, deep-blue eyes, a thoughtful glint flashing within.

The dog’s frenzy—he took it merely as the result of the man’s overwhelming murderous aura.

Yuan Che stepped forward and kicked Fu Li sharply behind the knee, forcing him down to his knees.

Yan Yi’s eyes flew wide. “Insolence! What are you doing?!”

Xie Chongqing turned the signet ring on his finger. His tone was mild, yet the pressure it carried was overwhelming, arrogance and gloom etched into his gaze. “Your Highness, the one being insolent is this lowly s*ave.”

Yan Yi was left speechless. “……”

“A mere s*ave dares barge into a prince’s sleeping quarters, openly committing insubordination. According to palace law, he should be beaten to death to serve as a warning.”

Yan Yi panicked. “Grand Tutor, Fu Li didn’t mean it! He’s A-Ling’s personal guard, not some lowly s*ave!”

“When the former dynasty fell into chaos, hordes of barbarians invaded our lands, burning, killing, and looting. Even now, the border regions still suffer. Barbarian blood carries savagery in its bones. Your Highness would do well not to be bitten back by this wolf cub someday.”

After delivering his warning, Xie Chongqing bowed and departed. Yan Yi scratched his head, unsure what to say. Reason told him he should comfort Fu Li, yet he didn’t look like someone who needed comfort.

Fu Li lowered his head and entered Yan Ling’s chamber. Recently, he would return from outside and stay inside for entire nights on end. Every morning when Hanlu saw him, his eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion.

It was Hanlu who smoothed things over. “Your Highness, the small kitchen made lamb soup noodles today. Shall we go have lunch first?”

Yan Yi nodded and left, still uneasy.

Xie Chongqing handed the dog’s leash back to Yuan Che, then took out the box he had just pocketed and opened it. Inside lay a scroll made of fine silk. He unfurled it slowly, skimming it at a glance.

The contents of the secret edict matched what Yan Ling had said. The Emperor had indeed been deceived—otherwise, how could he have established a princess as emperor?

The faint scent of dragon salve lingered on the edict, filling his nose. The hunting dog had been well trained. Xie Chongqing patted its head, praise evident in his eyes.

He slipped the secret edict into his sleeve, utterly claiming it as his own.

……

Autumn leaves drifted down along the covered corridor, mixing with lingering rain to turn the ground muddy. Yan Ling wheeled herself leisurely to Fuqu Garden. A veil covered her face, leaving only a pair of clear, autumn-water eyes exposed.

Stifled from staying indoors too long, she had Qingtao fetch a wheelchair and push her out for some fresh air.

Many retainers gathered by the lotus pond in Fuqu Garden, composing poetry, sipping tea, playing the qin. In the waterside pavilion sat several scholars. The leading gentleman had black hair streaked with white, loosely tied, and wore a moon-white robe with wide sleeves. He sat cross-legged behind a low table, sipping tea.

Across the flower pond, Yan Ling’s gaze drifted lightly to the person seated at the very end—a young man in a worn Daoist robe, seemingly a youth, dozing off behind his desk while the others debated heatedly, faces flushed and voices raised.

Their voices carried over.

“A ruler and a father are both gravely ill. There is but one pill that can save a single life. Should one save the ruler, or the father?”①

The presiding scholar posed the question calmly. After some contemplation, one retainer replied, “Naturally, the father. Blood ties are the most inseparable bond in this world.”

The others echoed in agreement. “Indeed. Of all virtues, none surpasses filial piety.”

“Not so.”
A clear voice suddenly cut through the lively scene.

The youth who had been dozing raised his head, eyes lucid, his words ringing out firmly. “I believe one should save the ruler.”

Everyone turned to look, and upon seeing who it was, disdain surfaced on their faces.

The young man showed no fear, calmly accepting their scrutiny.

Yan Ling listened, thoughtful.

These retainers dared to speak so boldly only because they relied on aristocratic clans like the Xie family. With imperial power reduced to a puppet, they believed that attaching themselves to great houses would allow them to leap across class boundaries.

“The founding ancestor of the former dynasty rose from humble origins, yet still conquered the realm and stabilized the Central Plains. A true hero can save the people from peril. Affairs of the state—how could mere family matters compare?”

The others fell silent, though they clearly didn’t take his words seriously, brushing them off with laughter.

The scornful looks made Gongsun Zhi falter at once. When the crowd dispersed, he dejectedly packed up his book case.

The sound of wheels rolling approached. “Since you think this way, sir, why remain in the Xie household?”

Gongsun Zhi turned around, momentarily stunned. Though he couldn’t see the woman’s face, her bright, soulful eyes were already captivating.

News that the household head had taken in a concubine had spread throughout the estate long ago—said to have been personally brought in by him, deeply favored.

“I come from a humble background, with nowhere to serve as an official,” Gongsun Zhi replied haltingly, heat rising to his cheeks. He didn’t dare lift his head to look at her. “The household head did not disdain me, so I came.”

These days, status was sharply divided: no commoners among the upper ranks of court, no great clans among the lower.

“Your words just now were truly excellent,” Yan Ling said gently, affirming him like a soothing confidante.

Gongsun Zhi looked up at once, his eyes lighting up. “You think so too, madam?”

“Yes.”

It was as if he had found a kindred spirit. Overjoyed, he said, “Madam and I think alike.” He wanted to step closer, but his status held him back, making him awkward. “Forgive my impoliteness.”

Yan Ling shook her head. “It’s nothing. You remind me of my elder brother.”

“My brother and I came to the capital to do business, but he went missing. I also… injured my face. Thanks to the household head’s mercy, I have no way to repay him.”

She hesitated for a moment, choosing not to tell the full truth. Gongsun Zhi was a retainer of the Xie household—no matter what, he was under Xie Chongqing. He just seemed rather simple.

“So that’s how it is. Madam will surely find your brother soon,” Gongsun Zhi said with sympathy. No wonder she carried herself so gracefully yet wore a veil—yet her injured face didn’t diminish her in his eyes. Instead, she seemed all the more resilient, a fine woman with a tragic background.

Yan Ling’s brows drooped slightly. “My leg is injured now. I don’t know when I’ll be able to walk and search for him.”

Only then did Gongsun Zhi notice she sat in a wheelchair.

“If you don’t mind, madam, anything I can help with, I surely will. Though I am insignificant, certainly not comparable to the household head,” he said with an embarrassed smile, possessing at least that much self-awareness.

Yan Ling pressed down her nerves. “Then thank you in advance. The household head is busy with official duties—I wouldn’t want to trouble him.”

Her smile dazzled him; a faint blush crept up behind his ears.

……

After returning to the residence, Xie Chongqing asked Qingtao about the princess’s activities that day. Qingtao answered one by one.

“After lunch, madam strolled around Fuqu Garden, listened to the retainers debating in the pavilion, exchanged a few words with Master Gongsun, then spoke briefly with Master Fan, and afterward with Masters Zhang and Zhao.”

Yan Ling didn’t allow Qingtao close, so she didn’t know what was said—only that madam seemed quite happy.

Xie Chongqing gave a low “Mm,” not lifting his head.

“Lord Xie.”
Yan Ling, seated in her wheelchair, called from outside the door, casting a glance at Qingtao but saying nothing.

Only then did Xie Chongqing look up. “What is it?”

Yan Ling wheeled herself inside. Qingtao withdrew discreetly.

“How is my father, the Emperor?” she asked softly, circling to his side.

“His Majesty is stable—much improved,” he replied coolly, not concealing it.

“In a few days, the imperial procession will enter the capital and return to the palace. Security will be looser then. I’ll escort you back.”

Yan Ling relaxed slightly. “How many days?”

“Five.”

Not long—she could endure it.

“You… will you help keep my secret?” She hesitated for a long while before asking.

“If Prince Hui does not know you stayed in the Xie residence, then His Majesty will not know your true identity,” he said, lashes lowered, fingers tapping lightly on the table—a veiled threat.

Yan Ling had expected this. He spared her life likely because he didn’t see her as a threat to Yan Yong, and sending her back was only because he held leverage over her.

“Yan Ling will naturally keep her mouth shut,” she said evenly, forcing a smile.

“What did you say to those retainers today?” he asked casually—yet her heart lifted at once.

She had forced herself to socialize with those old men for quite some time, pinching her nose in distaste, all to muddy the waters under his surveillance.

She found his lofty manner—issuing commands she was expected to obey without question—deeply displeasing.

“Don’t you already know? Why ask me?” she replied coldly, her tone sharp, as if provoking him had become instinct.

Xie Chongqing shot her a sidelong glance, his eyes dark and cold, his scrutinizing displeasure piercing straight through her. “I am speaking to you properly.”

“So what?” Yan Ling swallowed lightly, like a thorned flower. She felt she must have lost her mind—her heart was racing so fast her body could barely withstand it.

“Are you going to kill me again?”
Unconsciously, her limbs turned icy, her breathing uneven.

Xie Chongqing picked up the paperweight on the table and gently tapped it against her right cheek—once, twice—sending waves of numbness through her skin.

His force was light, yet her back prickled with tension. Still, she was speaking purely on instinct now, beyond any thought of regret.

“Twelfth Highness,” he said coolly, “you seem to lack the self-awareness befitting a hostage.”