Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

The voice that came from the carriage of King Ding was familiar, yet very different.

In Changliu Villa, Xiao Nong, whom Zhong Yansheng called "brother," always spoke in a lazy and casual tone, sometimes even with a hint of playful laughter. But at this moment, this voice was the same as that of King Ding who had scolded Xiao Wenlan on the street last time.

The aloof coldness of a superior who held life and death in his hands.

Behind the veil, Zhong Yansheng's eyelashes trembled; he was not used to this side of Xiao Nong.

But this was the King Ding everyone knew.

If his identity were discovered, he would face an even more terrifying King Ding.

Feeling a bit wronged, Zhong Yansheng was momentarily distracted and did not answer immediately.

Zhong Sidu, currently unnamed and unranked in the Marquis's residence, naturally did not speak up. He nudged Zhong Yansheng with his elbow, his gaze impatient and puzzled.

Zhong Yansheng suddenly snapped back to reality, pretending to be frightened by King Ding's presence. Indeed, he was quite afraid, trembling slightly and lowering his voice, trying to suppress the Gusu accent: "Your Highness, I am Zhong Yansheng from the Marquis Huai'an's residence."

There was no need to deliberately lower his voice; he had been resting poorly and caught a cold, making his voice hoarse and rough, losing its usual clarity.

The voice outside the carriage was deep and resonant, speaking in the standard Imperial City dialect, without the familiar softness.

That fearful, trembling appearance, unable to speak, was no different from anyone else, and vastly different from the little bird in his heart.

The sudden interest that arose just now vanished, and Xiao Nong released the corner of the curtain he had lifted, leaning back with his eyes closed.

Boring.

Seeing the carriage of King Ding move again and leave, the people from the Marquis Huai'an's residence finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Yuncheng wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his legs trembling, and moved closer to help Zhong Yansheng up.

Zhong Yansheng felt uncomfortable being touched, even by Yuncheng. He shook his head, stood up unsteadily, and noticed the cold look in Zhong Sidu's eyes.

What's wrong?

Zhong Yansheng didn't know how he had offended him again. He wasn't good at dealing with Zhong Sidu, so he silently climbed into the carriage, huddling in a corner to reduce his presence.

Zhong Sidu also got into the carriage. Seeing Zhong Yansheng like a bird huddled on a branch, his anger grew. He suddenly said, "Look at yourself. Do you have any semblance of the heir of the Marquis Huai'an?"

Zhong Yansheng raised his head in confusion: "Huh?"

Since childhood, the young Lady of the Marquis had told him that as long as he was healthy and happy, it was enough. Although the Marquis was strict, he only restricted Zhong Yansheng from reading frivolous books and did not impose many other constraints.

He didn't understand what Zhong Sidu meant by "the appearance of the heir of the Marquis Huai'an."

Even though he couldn't see Zhong Yansheng's face behind the veil, Zhong Sidu could imagine his expression.

Pretending to be ignorant, terrified to the point of being speechless before King Ding.

A beautiful but useless person.

If it weren't for his looks, he would be utterly worthless.

Zhong Sidu suppressed the anger in his chest, coldly reopened the book he had been reading, and ignored Zhong Yansheng.

Seeing that Zhong Sidu was ignoring him, Zhong Yansheng actually felt relieved. He gently lifted the curtain and glanced in the direction the carriage of King Ding had left.

Just now, he didn't dare to look up and didn't see Xiao Nong... He wondered how angry King Ding was now and how far along the investigation was.

While Zhong Yansheng was anxious, Xiao Nong inexplicably lifted the curtain and glanced back.

Noticing the movement, the coachman cautiously asked, "Your Highness, is something wrong?"

Recalling the trembling figure kneeling on the ground, Xiao Nong leaned back, uninterested, and asked casually, "Zhong Yansheng from the Marquis Huai'an's residence?"

The coachman thought for a moment, "Your Highness, Zhong Yansheng was originally the heir of the Marquis Huai'an. Recently, there was news in the Imperial City that Zhong Yansheng was a false heir, and the true heir was someone else. Judging by their direction, they seem to be heading to Jinghua Garden for the flower competition, which is not far from where we are going."

Xiao Nong vaguely remembered this from a previous report. He had glanced over it carelessly, more concerned about the unhappy little bird and hadn't paid much attention.

Seeing that Xiao Nong didn't interrupt, the coachman assumed he was interested and continued cautiously, "When the young Lady of the Marquis was pregnant, she was disturbed by evil spirits in her dreams and went to Jin Fu Temple in the capital outskirts to pray for blessings. On her way down the mountain, she accidentally fell down the steps, causing her to go into labor. The abbot of Jin Fu Temple arranged a room for her to give birth. They were supposed to return to the Imperial City after the child was born, but unfortunately, a major upheaval occurred in the city."

Xiao Nong, leaning against the window frame, lazily propped his cheek with his hand, tapping his head with his index finger. Initially, he had no patience to listen, but when he heard the last part, his eyelids lifted, and his tone rose, "Major upheaval?"

"Yes." The coachman kept his eyes forward, lowering his voice, "The former crown prince forced the palace."

At the mention of "former crown prince," Xiao Nong's expression changed for the first time.

The former crown prince, Pei Xi, was the eldest legitimate son of the old emperor, raised by his side since childhood and established as the heir at twelve years old.

When the crown prince fell ill, the old emperor personally went to the Fuguang Temple to pray for his recovery. When the crown prince showed interest in calligraphy and painting, the old emperor, despite the remonstrations of the censors, had a palace built to collect artworks. Despite such indulgence, the crown prince grew up to be a gentleman praised by contemporaries as a paragon of virtue.

The old emperor personally taught the crown prince to read and write, ride horses, and shoot arrows. Then, in the year the crown prince turned twenty-five, the old emperor ordered his men to shoot the crown prince dead at the eastern gate of the Forbidden City, massacring everyone in the Eastern Palace.

From then on, no one dared to mention the former crown prince, and the old emperor never named another heir.

The turmoil caused by the coup lasted for a long time, reaching the Northern Desert. The old King Ding, who was close friends with the former crown prince, looked despondently toward the Imperial City and sighed deeply upon hearing the news.

Young Xiao Nong, overhearing his parents' conversation, recalled the old King Ding saying, "The disaster has come upon the Xiao family."

Two years later, the Tartars attacked the Northern Desert, capturing several key border towns. Reinforcements were delayed, and the old King Ding, along with all the soldiers in the city, held out for a month before the entire city was massacred.

The Northern Desert remained in chaos for over a decade before he personally restored order.

"It is rumored that the remnants of the former crown prince's faction, fleeing to the vicinity of Jin Fu Temple, kidnapped the young Lady of the Marquis and her newborn son, causing the chaos that led to the Marquis Huai'an's household taking the wrong child and leaving the true heir behind. However, the true heir was identified by a token and brought back."

Xiao Nong, propping his cheek, lost all interest in these past events: "Any news?"

The coachman knew what Xiao Nong was asking and hesitated, lowering his head to reply, "Your Highness, not yet."

Xiao Nong closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, his mood growing increasingly irritable.

On the day he returned to the Imperial City, he did not find his Tiaotiao at the Anping Marquis's residence.

Back then, Little Sparrow had arrived with the Anping Marquis's carriage. The Anping Marquis, harboring ulterior motives, had sent beauties and treasures several times to curry favor. Everyone assumed Little Sparrow was from the Anping Marquis's household, and upon discovering that the Anping Marquis indeed had an adopted son whose name sounded similar to "Tiaotiao," everyone concluded that Tiaotiao belonged to the Anping Marquis's household.

But it wasn't so.

Thinking of the surprise and anger he felt that day at the Anping Marquis's residence, Xiao Nong couldn't help but feel a throbbing pain in his head, and he pinched his brow again.

Almost ten days had passed, and his Little Sparrow seemed to have truly flown away, vanishing without a trace.

He hadn't been able to sleep well since.

The signs of his recurring headache were becoming more evident.

Those in the Imperial City who had tried to send people to his inner chambers had all been thoroughly investigated, but no trace of Little Sparrow was found. Now, his secret guards were dispersed, investigating the private residences and estates of the noble families, searching each place one by one.

This commotion was not small; upon his return to the Imperial City, he had stirred up a storm, and though the nobles grumbled, none dared to speak out.

"Your Highness, we have arrived."

The carriage stopped, and before the coachman could lift the curtain, Xiao Nong had already raised it himself. His wide sleeves slipped down, revealing a black arrow-sleeve tightly bound with a red headband, its brilliance almost overwhelming.

Everyone outside the carriage lowered their eyes and held their breath, not daring to look.

Xiao Nong stepped out expressionlessly, his movements swift. His sleeves fell back, once again concealing the bright headband.

Initially, he thought Little Sparrow was hiding out of shyness, but now it seemed otherwise.

It was more like Little Sparrow was deliberately avoiding him, hiding away.

Xiao Nong lightly ground his canine teeth, his ink-blue eyes cold, a storm brewing beneath them.

My obedient Tiaotiao.

If you're going to hide, make sure you do it well, or I'll catch you.

As the carriage stopped in front of Jinghua Garden, Zhong Yansheng felt an inexplicable chill run down his spine and sneezed softly.

May in the Imperial City was gradually getting warmer, yet Zhong Yansheng was dressed much thicker than others and even sneezed.

Zhong Sidu, sitting opposite him, furrowed his brows again.

Pampered and frail.

Today was the Flower Competition Banquet, and most of the young aristocrats in the Imperial City had been invited. Outside, a long line of splendid carriages was parked, and many people were chatting outside the garden.

When the carriage from the Marquis Huai'an's residence arrived, the previously courteous atmosphere suddenly changed. Everyone looked over, staring at the carriage from the Marquis Huai'an's residence, covering their mouths to giggle and whisper.

In recent days, rumors about the Marquis Huai'an's residence had spread like wildfire, known to all.

It was said that the true heir had been brought back to the residence, remarkable in appearance and talent, while the original false heir, being ordinary, had been abandoned by the residence.

However, everyone also heard that the true heir, who had been lost, came from the countryside.

A high-born son, mistakenly taken, and the Marquis Huai'an had raised a son for over a decade—such an amusing story, no one could resist.

The nobles in the Imperial City had plenty of leisure time and loved spectacles. Roughly twenty people were waiting outside, mostly eager to see the joke unfold.

After a moment, a tall youth in a light blue robe emerged, holding a jade belt hook at his waist, his face as fair as jade, extremely handsome, with eyes as gentle as tea, naturally exuding a warm aura, holding an iris, his demeanor extraordinary.

Everyone was momentarily stunned, unable to discern whether this youth was the real or the fake one. Then, another pale hand lifted the curtain, and a more slender youth descended, wearing a light green round-collar robe and a veil hat adorned with a fiery red pomegranate flower. Though his face was hidden, his posture was light and captivating.

The young aristocrats exchanged glances, momentarily unsure which one was the real and which was the fake.

At first glance, both looked genuine.

Zhong Yansheng had anticipated being a spectacle, but he hadn't expected so many idle onlookers. Seeing so many people, he couldn't help but shrink back.

After a moment of silence, Zhong Yansheng silently moved behind Zhong Sidu.

He extended his slender fingers and gently poked Zhong Sidu's waist, speaking softly, "You go first."

Since he was here to accompany Zhong Sidu, it was enough for Zhong Sidu to attract attention. He was merely a pass, needing no presence.

Zhong Sidu, suddenly poked in the lower back, felt a sudden, heavy fragrance of thick powder, as if a fresh scent had emerged from it, spreading through his body along the tingling sensation from the finger on his waist, causing his body to stiffen.

But the finger quickly withdrew, touching and leaving, seemingly just a reminder to walk ahead.

Simple?

How could someone who could fool the Marquis Huai'an and his wife, and who went out to play and left traces, be simple?

Zhong Sidu nearly lost his composure, quickly suppressing his thoughts.

He understood what today's Flower Competition Banquet meant. He glanced at Zhong Yansheng without showing any emotion, suppressing his discomfort, and walked forward.

Everyone's gaze shifted back to Zhong Sidu, watching him take out the invitation and hand it to the usher outside, smiling faintly, "This is the invitation from the Marquis Huai'an's residence."

Those who had been listening intently finally understood.

This was the unfortunate true heir who had been mistaken.

The one behind, wearing a veil hat and not showing his face, must be the false heir whom the Marquis Huai'an had raised for over a decade.

Feeling the subtle gazes and atmosphere around him, Yuncheng clenched his fists.

Ever since Young Master Zhong Sidu was brought back, the atmosphere in the Marquis's mansion changed. Many were enchanted by him and gradually took his side, but Yuncheng and a few old servants did not like him.

What is real or fake is of no importance at all.

Yuncheng could not bear to see the young master wronged.

Noticing Yuncheng’s expression, Zhong Yansheng quietly tugged at him and shook his head.

Before coming to the banquet, he had guessed that he would be talked about, receiving strange looks and even being ignored.

But Zhong Yansheng seriously thought that these people were not familiar with him, so how they looked at him was none of his concern.

In comparison, it was King Ding’s matter that troubled him more. He had been hiding at home for ten days, and just as he stepped out, he ran into it.

Even Buddha’s blessings and the almanac couldn’t help.

The invitation was confirmed to be correct, and Zhong Yansheng followed Zhong Sidu into the garden.

Those who had been waiting outside to watch the spectacle also followed. The demeanor and appearance of the true heir of the Marquis Huai'an's mansion were far from what they had imagined—a timid and vulgar country bumpkin. Most people put away their mocking and cold gazes, greeting him with various intentions, intentionally or unintentionally ignoring Zhong Yansheng: "Young Master Zhong, I have heard much of your name."

"Your performance in the college examination was truly outstanding, your literary talent remarkable. Your essays have even reached the Imperial City! I had the honor of reading them, and I am deeply impressed, indeed."

Zhong Sidu had anticipated the probing reactions of the crowd and responded to the questions thrown at him with a faint smile, his attitude humble and gentle, answering without leaving any room for criticism.

Although others called Zhong Sidu "Young Master Zhong," their words clearly treated him as the heir of the Marquis Huai'an's mansion.

On the contrary, it was the young heir Zhong Yansheng who was left on the sidelines, unnoticed.

Seeing Zhong Yansheng gradually being marginalized and ignored, Yuncheng became anxious and whispered, "Young Master!"

Before they set off, he had waited outside the carriage and overheard the Marquise softly reminding Zhong Sidu that Zhong Yansheng used to be in poor health, rarely going out, and was afraid of crowded places.

She also said that during this banquet, there would surely be many meddlesome people spreading rumors, and it was their private wish for Zhong Yansheng to attend, asking him to take good care of Zhong Yansheng.

Zhong Sidu had promised well, but once they arrived at Jinghua Garden, he completely forgot about their young master.

The young master was obviously feeling unwell due to a cold, yet he insisted on coming, not allowing Yuncheng to inform the Marquis and the Marquise. For whom was he doing this?

Zhong Yansheng, lacking stamina, was already tired after walking for a while. Seeing Yuncheng's agitation, he quickly raised his finger to his lips: "Shh, shh! Don't make a fuss, or we'll draw attention."

Usually, when he went out, he was always surrounded by many gazes, often getting so nervous that his palms would sweat. Now, with no one looking at him, he actually felt relieved and did not feel the loneliness of being marginalized.

Yuncheng: "..."

Almost forgot, the young master is a little mushroom that doesn’t like crowds. His usual hobbies, besides painting, are lying under the flowers and reading leisurely books.

If it weren’t for the request of the Marquis and the Marquise, the young master probably wouldn’t have wanted to come to this flower competition banquet.

Thinking about this, although Yuncheng still felt some injustice, he managed to swallow his frustration.

Zhong Sidu grew up in the countryside, yet his literary talent was extraordinary. He topped the academy exams before turning eighteen and is preparing for the autumn imperial examinations this year.

Among the aristocratic children, such achievements are rare; most only manage to secure a position through their ancestors' influence.

Many famous scholars in the capital who read Zhong Sidu’s college examination essays praised him highly, predicting that he would make a stunning debut in the autumn imperial examinations and would certainly be listed in the spring imperial examinations next year.

Regardless of how Zhong Sidu performs in the autumn imperial examinations, many people already have the intention to befriend him.

The young nobles waiting outside were not all there for the spectacle; many of their parents had instructed them to get acquainted with Zhong Sidu—this true heir has just returned to the capital and knows no one, making it the perfect time to form connections.

As for the false heir, it’s not worth mentioning.

Who can tolerate someone who usurps another’s place? The relationship between these two must be poor, and befriending Zhong Sidu means alienating Zhong Yansheng.

Alienating a fake one doesn’t matter much.

Amidst the crowd, Zhong Yansheng, who had become particularly averse to physical contact since that night, moved to the side. Seeing Zhong Sidu handle the crowd so smoothly and quickly blend in, earning the admiration of others, he felt both comforted and happy.

Today wasn’t a waste.

Because they encountered the carriage of Prince Ding on the way, Zhong Yansheng and Zhong Sidu arrived a bit late.

Before they arrived, Princess De had already made an appearance. There were many female guests in Jinghua Garden today, and the princess had gone to meet them, so there was no need for them to specially pay their respects.

A servant bowed and led the way, and everyone chatted and laughed as they entered Jinghua Garden.

Entering from the entrance, there were vast lotus ponds on either side, with lotuses blooming among the layers of green leaves, emitting a fragrant scent.

Further inside, the scene was a riot of colors, with myriad flowers competing for beauty. The rare and exotic flowers carefully cultivated by the gardeners were in full bloom, their fragrance captivating, making it hard to distinguish directions.

Everyone couldn’t help but praise, "This year, the flowers in Jinghua Garden seem even more abundant."

Jinghua Garden is the largest garden in the Imperial City, and all the flowers here are rare varieties selected from various regions, combining opulence and elegance.

Zhong Yansheng, however, found the scenery boring amidst the chorus of praise.

The garden in Changliu Villa was better than Jinghua Garden.

At the time, he mistakenly thought Xiao Nong was the person he was looking for and asked Uncle Wang, who tended the garden, for a bag of seeds, intending to give them to the Marquise in the name of the true heir to mend their mother-son relationship.

But...

He couldn’t think too deeply; it would only lead to embarrassment and fear.

Thinking about the bag of seeds, Zhong Yansheng felt deflated.

Just like the white silk he brought back, he dared not touch it again, fearing that if it saw the light, Prince Ding would come sniffing around.

He didn’t even get to thank the kind uncle properly.

The surrounding crowd was bustling with chatter, a cacophony of voices discussing all sorts of things.

Most of those on the outer perimeter were of lower status and thus talked about everything else.

Like the hottest topic in Imperial City recently.

"Who knows what that person did to offend His Highness King Ding? I heard he's practically tearing the sky apart!"

Zhong Yansheng was just recalling Xiao Nong when he heard "King Ding," his heart skipped a beat. Taking advantage of no one seeing his face, he widened his eyes and secretly perked up his ears to eavesdrop.

With so many people around and King Ding unlikely to be here, the few nearby discussed without restraint.

"Isn't that true? My father almost lost everything because he sent a few beauties to King Ding’s private residence!"

"Haha, I heard as soon as King Ding returned to the capital, he went straight to your house. What exactly happened? Tell us in detail."

"Who knows what that lunatic is thinking?"

The speaker's face showed both fear and hatred, clearly more of the former, his chest heaving: "I have a younger brother, my father's adopted son, who grew up with me. I named him 'Tiaotiao' from the word 'yao tiao.' When he grew up, I found him quite handsome, so I... My father was ashamed and sealed everyone's mouths, forbidding them from talking about it."

The few beside him: "..."

"Alright, alright, why are you all staring at me like that." The heir of Anping Marquis's estate clicked his tongue impatiently, "That day, that lunatic came and asked me to bring Tiaotiao over. I said he was my personal attendant, what did he want with him? His expression instantly... It was terrifying, as if he wanted to strike me down, like I had stolen his wife! My father nearly died of fright!"

Speaking, he probably recalled Xiao Nong's expression and shivered hard.

The few gathered around him drew in cold breaths: "What happened?"

"Then what?"

"My father thought he wanted a beauty, so he quickly brought Tiaotiao over." The man paused, his face particularly vivid, "But when he saw Tiaotiao, he suddenly laughed in a deranged way, making my hair stand on end, scaring my father half to death again!"

Everyone listened intently, completely unaware of Zhong Yansheng, who was lurking nearby under a veil: "Then what, then what?"

"After he laughed, his face turned cold again, as if he had gone mad! He warned me to change Tiaotiao's name and left for no reason."

The heir of Anping Marquis was thoroughly depressed: "My esteemed Anping Marquis's estate, allowing him free rein, if not for hearing that His Highness King De would also be at Jinghua Garden today, and my father insisting I come, I really wouldn't have the mood to attend this flower competition. It's sheer arrogance!"

After exchanging glances, the others murmured their agreement.

Their faces, however, conveyed, "You should be grateful to still be alive."

Zhong Yansheng's fingertips trembled, nearly plucking the flower before him.

While the others puzzled over what had driven King Ding mad, only he knew that Xiao Nong wasn't looking for any "Tiaotiao," but rather "Taotao."

It seemed Xiao Nong had mistaken his identity and went to the Anping Marquis's estate... Though he felt a bit guilty, Zhong Yansheng breathed a long sigh of relief, silently apologizing.

Seeing the heir of Anping Marquis wipe his sweat, the anger from his earlier recounting dissipated. Perhaps feeling fortunate to be alive, his face turned pale as he concluded, "I truly don't know anything else. Don't ask anymore; getting involved with that demon is never good. From the look of it, once King Ding finds the person, he'll tear them apart!"

His tone was firm and chilling, sending a chill up Zhong Yansheng's spine. He couldn't help but touch his neck, remembering the bite Xiao Nong had given him, his face turning bitter.

He hadn't expected that after so long, His Highness King Ding hadn't calmed down but had become even angrier.

He was now very grateful that when Xiao Nong asked for his name, he had overthought it and didn't give his real name; otherwise, he would have been caught long ago.

Hearing them discuss how "Taotao" might have offended King Ding, they glanced at him strangely, wondering why he had been standing there so long.

Feeling guilty and uneasy, Zhong Yansheng moved to the side.

He felt bad for involving the Anping Marquis's estate, but he couldn't do anything about it.

Zhong Yansheng dared not eavesdrop any longer, coughed quietly, and pulled Yuncheng aside, whispering, "Yuncheng, I need to hide for a while. Watch over here for me, and if anything happens, come find me."

Yuncheng knew he was unwell from the cold and disliked crowded places. He hesitated for a moment, worriedly asking, "Young Master, will you be okay alone?"

"This is Jinghua Garden; no one will cause trouble, and no one will notice me." Zhong Yansheng rubbed his nose, slowly moving towards a side path, "I'll rest for a bit."

The cold had made his bones ache and his head feel heavy and drowsy.

The flower competition would last until evening, and Zhong Yansheng planned to find a quiet corner to rest, appearing when necessary and hiding when not, as wearing a veil attracted too much attention.

Following a side path, surrounded by blooming flowers, he walked for a while and found a stone pavilion for viewing flowers, standing quietly among the tall blooms, undisturbed.

Zhong Yansheng was delighted and walked in, sitting down and removing his veil, heaving a long sigh.

For days, he had been worried about King Ding, barely sleeping before the flower competition, and the cold had only made him feel worse.

Sitting for a while, Zhong Yansheng began to feel sleepy.

Surrounded by the pleasant scent of flowers, the silence, and the gentle breeze, he leaned on the stone table, half-asleep.

In a semi-dream state, he didn't know how long he had been lying there when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Quickly grabbing his veil, he put it back on just as several people appeared on the path, their eyes lighting up upon seeing him: "Ah, there you are!"

The veil obscured his vision, and it wasn't until they were closer that Zhong Yansheng recognized the leader, his heart tightening.

Meng Qiping? Why is he here! Wasn't he not on the list Yuncheng had?

Zhong Yansheng, nearly eighteen, had never intensely disliked anyone.

Meng Qiping was the first.

That day, Zhong Yansheng had been drugged and insulted, slapping Meng Qiping hard before jumping out the window and running away.

Now, encountering Meng Qiping alone was clearly not a good situation.

Zhong Yansheng's heart tightened, his lips pressed together, and he stood up, intending to leave the pavilion and return to the crowd.

But before he could reach the exit, Meng Qiping gave a signal, and the two men behind him blocked the way. Zhong Yansheng vaguely remembered these men from the tavern, where they had fawned over Meng Qiping, likely his lackeys.

Meng Qiping's eyes clung to him, sliding up and down as if they were hooks, wishing to strip off his clothes. His tone was still nauseating: "I came here just for you, why did you run? It’s been a long time, Yan Yan. Aren’t you happy to see me?"

Zhong Yansheng frowned, thinking he wanted revenge for the slap, but didn't expect Meng Qiping to lower his voice and ask with hatred: "Who slept with you that night?!"

Zhong Yansheng's eyes widened involuntarily, and he took two steps back in shock.

Meng Qiping's voice was full of resentment: "My drug is potent; there’s only one way to relieve it."

He stepped closer, reaching out to lift Zhong Yansheng's veil: "Tell me, who was it?"

The more Meng Qiping thought about it, the angrier he became.

That night, after Zhong Yansheng jumped out of the window, he waited until the patrolling censor left before sending people to search the waterways. He was worried that the little beauty he had managed to trap would end up in someone else's hands, and also feared that if Zhong Yansheng died in the river, the Marquis Huai'an's mansion would come after him.

They searched half the night but found no trace of Zhong Yansheng in the river.

If Zhong Yansheng was still alive, then someone else must have taken advantage of him.

Zhong Yansheng, having learned from past experiences, was highly vigilant around Meng Qiping. Seeing him approach, he nimbly dodged to the side, frowning and warning: "Young Master Meng, this is King De’s Jinghua Garden. There are many people outside; you’d better behave yourself."

To his surprise, Meng Qiping not only showed no restraint but also laughed sinisterly: "Little slut, do you still think you’re the heir of the Marquis Huai'an’s mansion? If I carry you away right now, no one will say anything."

The lackeys behind him also laughed: "The young heir is so beautiful, why hide? Show us."

"Tsk tsk, that voice, so hoarse and soft, trying to seduce who?"

Zhong Yansheng recalled the rumors about Meng Qiping that Yuncheng had told him, and his heart sank.

Meng Qiping reached out again, trying to grab Zhong Yansheng's veil.

Zhong Yansheng, who had been watching his movements closely, slipped away like a slippery fish, using his slender frame to dodge once more.

He looked frail, but when he moved, his posture was graceful. His sash fluttered, and the pomegranate flowers on his veil burned like fire, making him seem like a small bird with red berries, gracefully flitting among the branches.

Meng Qiping felt both attraction and anger: "Damn it, hold him down!"

Startled, Zhong Yansheng instinctively kicked Meng Qiping in the knee. Completely unprepared for his resistance, Meng Qiping's knee buckled, and he fell straight to the ground in front of Zhong Yansheng with a thud.

When had Young Master Meng ever experienced such humiliation? Even when he accidentally killed a courtesan in a brothel, Duke Pei and his wife wouldn't make him kneel as punishment.

For a moment, not only the lackeys but even Meng Qiping himself were stunned.

Zhong Yansheng was also startled, his gaze flickering. Realizing the situation, he took advantage of their shock and quickly ran out of the pavilion.

Meng Qiping snapped back to reality, enraged and embarrassed, shouting: "What are you waiting for! Bring him back! I’m going to take care of him right here in this pavilion!"

Zhong Yansheng, who usually stayed in the inner chambers and disliked moving, was slow in his usual speech and actions. After running just a few steps, he was caught by several tall and strong lackeys who surrounded him.

Meng Qiping patted his robe and followed, sneering: "Ungrateful little slut, you offended me and lost the protection of being the heir of the Marquis Huai'an’s mansion. Do you think anyone will stand up for you?"

Zhong Yansheng pressed his lips together and remained silent, slowly retreating as they approached. When his back hit a dense cluster of branches, he stopped, unable to retreat further, and tried to think.

Among the noble heirs present today, Meng Qiping's family background was one of the best, and he was extremely arrogant. No one usually dared to provoke him.

Even if he shouted Yuncheng's name, it wouldn’t help much and might even get Yuncheng beaten.

Even if others were drawn over, they might not help him, since although he still held the title, everyone knew he was no longer the heir of the Marquis Huai'an’s mansion.

Zhong Sidu...

Zhong Yansheng immediately dismissed Zhong Sidu from his mind.

Zhong Sidu didn’t like him, and he didn’t want to involve Zhong Sidu in trouble with Meng Qiping.

To escape from this troublesome Meng Qiping, he needed someone who could intimidate him.

Seeing Zhong Yansheng stop, Meng Qiping felt triumphant, already fantasizing about how to tame this disobedient little beauty. He pushed aside the others' hands: "I’ll handle it."

As he said this, he reached for Zhong Yansheng.

Zhong Yansheng twisted his body and dodged again, lightly.

This finally enraged Meng Qiping. He was about to order everyone to attack when he heard Zhong Yansheng take a deep breath. Remembering the ridicule about his Gusu accent, he spoke clearly and firmly: "Who says no one will stand up for me?"

His voice, already rough from a cold, sounded deeper and more authoritative than usual.

Meng Qiping was momentarily stunned, then couldn't help but laugh coldly: "Funny, offending the Duke Pei’s mansion, you think someone will protect you?"

The lackeys joined in the laughter.

Zhong Yansheng forced himself to remain calm: "Someone you fear."

"Ha?" Meng Qiping found it even funnier, "Then tell me, who is he?"

Zhong Yansheng stared at him, speaking slowly and deliberately: "His Highness, King Ding."

Back at Changliu Villa, Xiao Nong had said that if anything happened, he could find him.

Although those words might not have been sincere, and Zhong Yansheng was currently at odds with King Ding, he still felt a bit more confident.

Hearing this name, everyone's faces revealed unmistakable fear and hesitation.

The lackeys stopped laughing, and even Meng Qiping fell silent, the surroundings falling into a dead silence.

Then, they exchanged glances, realizing Zhong Yansheng’s claim was absurd, and burst into even more raucous laughter: "Oh my, Little Heir Zhong, what a joke!"

"King Ding? Did I hear that right? Hahaha!"

Meng Qiping, coming to his senses, almost found Zhong Yansheng’s stubborn lie amusing, and chuckled: "King Ding? What nonsense, saying something like that, King Ding, that mad dog, has been biting everyone these days!"

The moment his voice fell silent, a chill ran down his neck.

A thin, cold blade, like a venomous snake, silently pressed against the side of his neck.

Zhong Yansheng's pupils constricted.

A faint, familiar scent wafted from behind him, a bitter medicinal aroma mixed with a chilling air, like a snowflake landing on his eyelid in winter.

The person behind him moved through the flowers and willows, his deep, magnetic voice casual, laced with a hint of amusement but more so with a bone-chilling coldness: "Who is this king biting?"

Silence.

Even the sound of petals falling seemed audible.

Several lackeys were so frightened that they fell to their knees with a thud, burying their heads and not daring to make a sound.

Meng Qiping, however, did not dare to kneel. The sword on his neck was almost touching his skin; any slight movement would cut open a wound. The cold iron made his flesh crawl, his body so weak it nearly collapsed, yet he remained stiff, eyes wide, breathing rapidly, like a frog on the verge of death.

Zhong Yansheng also froze.

The person behind him stepped out of the flower bed, the light veil of his hood slightly blurring the view. A vague dark blue figure appeared, the silver embroidery of mountains and flying cranes faintly visible in the sunlight, narrow sleeves and jade belt, strolling leisurely, brushing past his shoulder and stopping in front of him.

He was tall.

Even when seated in a wheelchair, he was already quite tall, but standing up, he was even taller than Zhong Yansheng had imagined, almost a head taller, requiring a slight tilt of the head to look at him.

His towering figure cast Zhong Yansheng entirely in shadow. Whether it was innate or honed through years of warfare, his presence was overwhelmingly oppressive, even from behind. Face-to-face, it would likely be suffocating.

He stood sideways to Zhong Yansheng, his neck perfectly aligned within Zhong Yansheng's line of sight.

A suggestive bite mark, glaringly obvious, was imprinted on that long, unapproachable neck, clear even with limited visibility.

Zhong Yansheng's mind buzzed, and a wave of heat surged from his neck to his face, scorching hot.

He swallowed hard.

Did His Highness Prince Ding's medicine get stolen, leaving no ointment to apply?

Was he walking around every day with such an unseemly mark?

That night... did he really bite that hard?

Zhong Yansheng's gaze wavered, his heart filled with guilt and fear, as if about to float away.

It was unclear how much Xiao Nong had heard behind the leaves, but Meng Qiping's words were clearly heard.

Meng Qiping had lost his initial arrogance, sweat continuously soaking his forehead, his face pale, lips trembling, unsure how to explain: "Your Highness... I..."

Xiao Nong took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped the flower juice from his fingers: "The Jinghua Garden is a place of beauty and should not be tainted by bloodshed."

Hearing this, Meng Qiping's tense pupils relaxed slightly, managing a forced smile: "Thank you, Your Highness..."

Then he added casually: "Cut off a finger."

Zhan Rong, standing behind Meng Qiping with a cold expression, responded crisply: "Yes."

As he spoke, a dull thud of a blade slicing through flesh and bone echoed.

Almost simultaneously, Meng Qiping let out a bone-chilling scream: "You dare, ah... aaaaaaah!"

The lackeys nearby trembled uncontrollably, gasping in horror, nearly fainting, but before Meng Qiping could scream much longer, one of them, noticing Xiao Nong's narrowed eyes, apparently annoyed by the noise, felt a chill and rushed over to cover Meng Qiping's mouth.

Silence returned.

Zhong Yansheng had a keen sense of smell.

Even though most of the bloody scene was blocked by Xiao Nong's body, he still caught a faint whiff of blood mixed with the garden's floral fragrance, making it even more nauseating.

His back prickled, and he took a shallow breath, quietly trying to slip away through the bushes behind him.

Just as he took a step, Xiao Nong turned as if he had eyes in the back of his head.

Without the white veil obscuring his face, Zhong Yansheng saw Xiao Nong's true appearance for the first time.

In the backlight, his face was still handsome and noble, with deep, chiseled features that were smooth and cold, slightly elongated eyes, and extremely beautiful irises that were dark black with a hint of ink-blue, like priceless sapphires from the frontier, possessing a three-quarters foreign charm, sharp and cold when looking at someone.

Facing him directly, the oppression was even stronger.

Zhong Yansheng's gaze swept over those slightly curved lips, which didn't seem to be smiling, and his mind involuntarily flashed back to the image of himself, in a daze, leaning in to bite those lips, then to the faint bite mark on his neck, his ears burning even hotter, almost smoking if not for the veil, and he couldn't help but take another step back.

"How does this king not know that this king is protecting you?"

The familiar voice reached his ears, clearer and closer than in the carriage.

Zhong Yansheng's throat tightened.

He had just wanted to bring up someone Meng Qiping would fear, and Xiao Nong was the first person who came to mind.

Little did he know Xiao Nong was right behind him.

But Xiao Nong didn't seem to need an answer.

Those beautiful, ink-blue eyes, as vivid as in his memory, stared at him unblinkingly, intensely invasive.

"You." Xiao Nong's tone carried a barely perceptible warmth, speaking slowly, "Take off your veil."