Chapter 104: The Old Man

Chapter 104: The Old Man

They circled the charred remains of the warehouse. Xiao Shao shoved aside two charred wooden beams, exposing the blackened, fire-scorched ground beneath. Then, with a flick of his robe, he dropped to one knee, dragging his fingers through the dirt and gathering a layer of fine ash.

Qi Yan knelt beside him as well. "Full of holes and crumbly—it's charcoal."

Xiao Shao rubbed the wood fragments between his fingers, scattering them. He sifted through the ashes until his fingertips brushed against something hard.

The object was cast from wrought iron, unexpectedly heavy for its size.

Qi Yan leaned over to take it. "It's the lock from a silver chest."

The silver had been stored in wooden chests, secured with iron locks, then stacked in tall columns in the warehouse. This was one such lock.

Xiao Shao cleared more debris with his boot, exposing a larger section of the foundation. He absently brushed aside another pile of ash, uncovering several more locks.

Qi Yan remarked, "These would've been attached to the silver chests. The flames reduced the wood to charcoal, leaving only the locks behind."

Xiao Shao stood up straight. "Strange."

He turned to Qi Yan. "If the silver was truly moved within the last three days, why didn’t they take the chests?"

The warehouse entrance was narrow, impossible for carts to pass through. If two men hauled a chest, they could transport one chest of silver per trip. Without the chests, a person could only carry a few silver ingots at a time. Why make extra trips when they had perfect containers?

Qi Yan went rigid in agreement. "It is indeed strange."

They scowled and kept searching, but the warehouse had been too thoroughly destroyed by the fire, leaving only rubble and stone foundations. Xiao Shao tapped the ground. The warehouse foundation was made of massive stone slabs, each weighing several hundred pounds.

"No chance of an underground vault," Xiao Shao mused.

Qi Yan nodded in agreement.

The vault's design accounted for thieves from the start. The ground here was soft—digging a large underground space would have guaranteed caving in under the weight of the stone slabs and silver.

Practically falling into his embrace, Qi Yan suddenly stiffened, hastily stepping back until his back pressed against Xiao Shao’s chest. Xiao Shao raised a brow and steadied him, about to joke, but then felt the shoulders beneath his hands tremble violently, as if Qi Yan had seen something horrifying.

Xiao Tanhu clutched at the sleeve, whispering, "Your Highness, look at the entrance."

Xiao Shao followed his gaze and stilled.

In the doorway stood an old man.

A withered, stooped figure—little more than skin and bones.

The old man’s hair and beard were white, his milky eyes nearly blind with cataracts. In his hand, he held a dim lantern, its guttering flame casting wavering shadows.

There was no telling how long he'd been watching them, standing motionless at the entrance, observing Xiao Shao and Qi Yan.

Xiao Shao lifted a hand in cautious greeting and called out, "Old sir?"

The man did not respond.

Xiao Shao tightened his grip on Qi Yan’s wrist and pulled him forward a few steps, raising his voice again. "Old sir?"

Only when they were less than ten meters apart did the old man finally stir. A palsied hand rose, finger shaking as it pointed at Xiao Shao. His mouth opened—a dark void, most of his teeth gone, leaving only blackened, shrunken gums. "You... you..."

He lifted his trembling hand, pointing unsteadily at Xiao Shao.

Truth be told, the old man's entire body was convulsing, every inch of his skin and muscles trembling as if afflicted by an incurable illness. With great difficulty, he worked his tongue, asking in a slurred and peculiar tone, "You... who are you... why disturb... Prince An's rest..."

Qi Yan whispered to Xiao Shao, "He must be the gravekeeper from the mountain cemetery."

Eight royal tombs stood on Qinglong Mountain, each with its own sacrificial site. In the previous dynasty, there should have been dedicated tomb keepers, even holding official titles. But now, with the change of dynasties, the once-prosperous princely houses had long since declined, leaving only this frail old man on the brink of death.

Though they now knew the old man's identity, encountering such a figure in the desolate wilderness still made Qi Yan's skin crawl.

Xiao Shao, however, wasn’t fazed at all. He stepped forward calmly, cupping his hands respectfully. "The night is deep and the dew heavy—why is an elder like you here alone? Ah, please don’t be alarmed. We are just passing merchants crossing Qinglong Mountain to the neighboring town. We had planned to rest in the village at the foot of the mountain, but strangely, the village was utterly deserted."

Qi Yan was mildly surprised as he followed behind, watching the noble second prince effortlessly engage the old man in casual conversation.

With just a few words, Xiao Shao adopted the persona of a lost traveler, smiling as he said, "My elder brother once traveled this route and told me of a bustling village at the mountain’s foot. He said the apricot blossom wine sold at the tavern by the village entrance was the finest in Hedong, urging me to try it. That’s why I came here in such a hurry. Yet when I arrived, the village was not a living soul in sight. With no other option, I had to ascend the mountain at night."

His tone was so natural it was as if he had truly grown up in Hedong Prefecture and had an elder brother who frequently traveled these lands for business.

Hearing this, the old man chuckled, baring his yellowed teeth as he croaked eerily, "The village at the foot of the mountain... perhaps it truly is haunted?"

Xiao Shao paused, then laughed. "Elder, you’re joking. Though I’ve traveled far and wide for years, I’ve yet to encounter a ghost. Where’d you hear that?"

Qi Yan stiffened slightly as Xiao Shao mouthed to him, "Xiao is the royal surname—I’ll borrow yours for now."

Qi Yan fell silent, though a strange unease settled over him. He quietly followed Xiao Shao, listening as he conversed with the old man.

The old man stammered, "That village below... in three months, half its people died. Does that not count as being haunted?"

Xiao Shao’s brows shot up. "Oh?"

Three months—combined with the village being abandoned for over three months, totaling half a year—lined up exactly with the timing of the Hedong Silver Case.

After exchanging a few more words with the old man, Xiao Shao learned that the village had been struck by a strange illness. Many had suddenly convulsed, broken out in rashes, and died overnight. The remaining able-bodied villagers fled in all directions—some seeking refuge with relatives, others moving away if they had the means. Within months, the once-thriving village had fallen into ruin, becoming the desolate sight before them.

Xiao Shao thanked the old man and bid him farewell before mounting his horse and extending a hand to Qi Yan. "Up you go."

Dawn was approaching, and they had to return to the estate before sunrise. Time was running short.

Qi Yan climbed onto the horse, and Xiao Shao reached around his waist to grasp the reins, his hand brushing Qi Yan’s side. The touch seared like a brand, instantly reminding Qi Yan of the previous day when Xiao Shao had held him down, breath hot against his waist. His stomach tightened reflexively.

Xiao Shao patted him reassuringly. "Don’t worry. I’m skilled in riding and archery—I won’t let you fall."

Qi Yan pursed his lips. Though frail, he had studied the six gentlemanly arts in his youth and was capable of riding and archery. Yet in Xiao Shao’s eyes, he seemed utterly inept.

By then, Xiao Shao had already tightened the reins, turning the horse toward the main road down the mountain. But instead of relaxing, Qi Yan grew even more tense, his shoulder blades pressing rigidly against Xiao Shao’s chest.

Xiao Shao slowed the horse and asked, "Is there something you wish to say?"

After a moment’s hesitation, Qi Yan murmured, "You’re very different from what I imagined."

Rumors painted the second prince as an idle, extravagant wastrel who squandered his days in leisure. In the estate, he had kept a low profile, and though Qi Yan had sensed something amiss, he couldn’t investigate further. But today, Xiao Shao had analyzed the case with razor-sharp logic and conversed with the old man with effortless grace. Watching him, Qi Yan couldn’t help but feel surprised.

What kind of wastrel carried himself like this?

Xiao Shao had never hidden his intentions from Qi Yan—after all, Qi Yan was destined to follow him into the imperial study to review memorials. They were already bound together. With a low chuckle, Xiao Shao drawled, "Little Tanhu, remember to keep my secret."

Qi Yan swayed with the horse’s movements, unable to see Xiao Shao’s expression but easily picturing his relaxed brows and bright eyes. His heartbeat inexplicably quickened, his ears and neck flushing red as he nodded in agreement.

*

As dawn broke, servants hurried about the estate, bringing towels and hot water, waiting at the doors. The maids and guards summoned by Song Lvyang stood in a line at the entrance, led by a nimble figure who seemed trained in martial arts. He pressed his ear to the window, frowning as he listened for any sound inside.

Xiao Shao’s bedroom door remained tightly shut, the interior dead silent.

The maids exchanged glances, their faces solemn. The leader knocked on the door and called out loudly, "Your Highness?"

Though she addressed him as "Your Highness," there was little respect in her tone.

No response came from the room.

The maid raised her voice again, "Will you join us, Your Highness? Magistrate Song has arranged a banquet and invites you to enjoy the view from the heights today."

Still, no reply.

As the saying goes, even a mighty dragon is no match for the local snake. Xiao Shao, as an imperial envoy, had only brought a few attendants and the accompanying Supervisor He.

Supervisor He stayed in the room next to Xiao Shao’s, ready to be summoned at any time. Hearing the commotion, he frowned and rose. "What's all this noise so early in the morning? The Second Prince is trying to sleep. How dare you make such a racket? Leave at once!"

Though Supervisor He had also come from the capital, the maids completely ignored him. The leader boldly raised her elbow and forcefully pushed the door open.

Before Supervisor He could intervene, the maids filed into the room. Their gazes darted around the room, only to find it utterly empty—no trace of used teacups, chairs, or tables. Only the embroidered silk bed curtains hung before the bed, their vague outlines barely discernible.

Supervisor He stood frozen in shock. "This is outrageous! Who taught you such manners?" he cried, his piercing shriek cutting through the air.

The maids paid him no heed and strode straight to the bed, reaching out to pull back the curtains—

Only for the leader’s wrist to be seized in a sudden, painful grip.

Xiao Shao was wrapped entirely in brocade quilts, only a single arm exposed. He held the maid’s wrist with a deft, unyielding pressure, his eyes smiling but his gaze chillingly deep, like a frigid abyss. "Careful, miss," he said lightly. "My sleeping companion is still fast asleep. If you disturb him, you’ll pay with your life."

Though his tone was pleasant, there was no warmth in his eyes. The maid glanced down and saw another figure cocooned in the quilts—only a wrist visible, ghostly pale, marred by a red mark as if restrained above the head, in a clearly compromising position.

As if sensing the maid’s stare, the fingers twitched slightly before curling together nervously.

Xiao Shao’s voice turned icy. "Had your fill of looking?"

Though the maids were under Song Lvyang’s command, they still had to respect Xiao Shao’s status as a prince. They immediately dropped to their knees and scrambled out of the room.

Under the quilts, Qi Yan let out a long breath of relief.

Xiao Shao threw off the covers and stood. Both of them were fully dressed, their sleeves rolled up to their upper arms—their clothes were caked with dirt, blackened with soot, clearly having just returned from the mountain.

They had rushed back in such haste that by the time they reached the residence, dawn had already broken. With no time to tidy up, they had to climb in through the window—just as the maids were about to barge in. The only option was to hastily bundle themselves under the quilts, exposing an arm to feign an intimate scene.

Xiao Shao stepped down from the bed first, and Qi Yan followed, straightening his clothes and changing into fresh attire. Sitting across from Xiao Shao, he said, still uneasy, "Song Lvyang is watching us so closely. The matter must be grave. He'd risk your wrath rather than let the secret slip."

"Keeping the secret means the Crown Prince might still protect him. If it gets out, he'll die without a grave to his name."

Xiao Shao sipped his tea, idly toying with the exquisite Jianzhan teacup—worth a fortune. "A mere prefect like Song Lvyang casually serves guests with such luxury," he mused.

Languidly reclining in his chair, he smirked. "Song Lvyang treats us so lavishly, keeping watch every moment and even sending such tactful maids to attend to us. How very thoughtful of him. It seems we should start planning his end."