Chapter 107: The Scheme

Chapter 107: The Stratagem

Behind them, the wildfire spread rapidly, and soon, Qinglong Mountain was engulfed in flames.

On the other side of Qinglong Mountain, across the Shunqing River, the residence of the military supervisor eunuch Yao Jin had descended into complete chaos.

Eunuch He and Yao Jin had been catching up when they suddenly noticed the neighboring mountain catching fire, black smoke coiled upward into the sky. Ash carried by the wind drifted across the river, settling over the estate.

Yao Jin glanced briefly before turning away. "The climate in Hedong Prefecture is dry. Every late winter/early spring, there are a few fires—nothing unusual. We're separated by the river; it won’t reach us. No need to worry." He stood to pour tea for Eunuch He. "Here, Supervisor He, try this newly harvested tea."

Eunuch He took a sip. "This year’s dryness is terrifying. Since spring began, there have already been seven or eight reported wildfires. Let’s hope no lives are lost."

Yao Jin replied, "It shouldn’t happen. Qinglong Mountain is mostly uninhabited—"

Before he could finish, Eunuch He suddenly spat out his tea, drenching Yao Jin. He coughed violently, grabbing Yao Jin’s collar as if about to collapse onto him. "Cough—cough! What mountain did you say?"

"Uh... Qinglong Mountain?"

Yao Jin’s tentative answer sent Eunuch He scrambling off his chair in a panic. "Send men across the river! Search the mountain! Put out the fire!"

Yao Jin steadied him. "Wait, what’s wrong? Is there something on that mountain?"

Supervisor He’s eyes widened in horror. "The Second Prince—he’s up there!"

Before leaving, Xiao Shao had mentioned going to Qinglong Mountain to sketch/scenery. By his estimate, the prince should still be there now.

Yao Jin’s heart lurched. Unlike Song Lvyang—a trueborn aristocrat, a fourth-rank high official, with the vast influence of the Hedong Song Clan and countless allies in court—they were just eunuchs who owed their positions solely to the emperor’s favor. If Emperor Jianning’s most cherished son died in their jurisdiction, their futures would be the least of their worries. The emperor’s fury alone might kill them.

Yao Jin immediately stood, abandoning his tea, and rallied every able hand to cross the river and fight the fire.

Meanwhile, Xiao Shao and Qi Yan were descending the mountain along the stream.

*

With the stream nearby, the heat was bearable. Both covered their noses and mouths with wet silk kerchiefs, dunking them anew every few minutes to fend off the smoke.

Qinglong Mountain wasn’t large, and soon, they caught sight of the Shunqing River.

The great river separating the two towns wound its way past the foot of Qinglong Mountain, its flow gentler as the terrain leveled, the water broadening. Countless boats dotted the river, and Xiao Shao spotted a fleet heading their way.

He scooped up some damp mud from the stream and smeared it on both their faces, hair, and clothes. In moments, the two neatly dressed men looked properly filthy.

Then, Xiao Shao retrieved a fingernail-sized pill from his sleeve—brown, reeking. He eyed it with distaste before swallowing it.

Qi Yan, busy wringing out the kerchief by the river, didn’t notice. After a pause, Xiao Shao suddenly crossed his arms and grinned. "Xiao Tanhu, look at me."

Qi Yan looked up—and went rigid.

Xiao Shao was still smiling, but blood trickled from the corner of his lips, dripping down in a bright red trail. Then, he staggered, his knees buckling as he sagged against a tree, limp.

Qi Yan gasped, the kerchief fell from his fingers. Without thinking, he lunged forward beside him. "Your Highness!"

Xiao Shao’s chest rose and fell as he tried to speak, but another trickle of blood escaped. His complexion paled rapidly, his coughs stifled into pained grunts. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth, streaking down his chin, soon staining his chest red.

Qi Yan went statue-still for a moment before panic visibly overtook him. He lunged forward again. "Your Highness? Your Highness! What’s wrong? What’s happening?"

In that moment, the usually proper Xiao Tanhu forgot all decorum. He gripped Xiao Shao’s arm, wiping the blood from his lips. The blood’s heat on his fingers seared like embers, making his hands tremble. Frantically, he untied the bundle, fetching a water flask and cloth to clean Xiao Shao’s chin—but the blood kept flowing, drenching the cloth crimson.

Clutching the cloth, Qi Yan was desperate.

Xiao Shao leaned weakly against the tree trunk, one hand clutching his chest as he wheezed in ragged bursts. His voice was hoarse and faint, his breaths shallow as a whisper, as if he might stop breathing at any moment.

Qi Yan had never seen Xiao Shao in such a state. He pressed his hand against Xiao Shao’s chest to help steady his breathing. "Yao Jin’s fleet has already landed and will be here soon, Your Highness. I’ll go guide them here—"

As he spoke, he rose to leave, but his wrist was suddenly seized. A tremendous force yanked him back, and before he could react, Qi Yan stumbled and fell back beside Xiao Shao.

The strength behind the pull showed no trace of weakness.

Xiao Shao had been lying weakly with his eyes closed, but after dragging Qi Yan back, he half-opened his eyelids, glancing briefly at Xiao Tanhua (Little Scholar)'s face. Yet Qi Yan, consumed by panic, noticed none of this. He only clutched Xiao Shao’s sleeve tightly, his fingers turning white with the force, as if letting go would mean losing something irreplaceable.

So Xiao Shao closed his eyes again and spat up another mouthful of blood.

Qi Yan wiped it away with the handkerchief, and Xiao Shao spoke weakly, "Don’t… go after them. They… will come… soon enough."

Then he covered his mouth with his hand and faked a cough.

Qi Yan’s voice was strained. "What should I do?"

He was indeed learned and well-versed in governance, able to discuss statecraft with ease. But faced with Xiao Shao’s "dying" state, Qi Yan was utterly helpless, regretting that he had never studied medicine—rendering him a book-smart fool when it mattered.

Xiao Shao lifted his eyelids. "Come closer. My neck hurts."

The tree trunk dug into his neck, making it uncomfortable.

Qi Yan obediently moved nearer.

So Xiao Shao tilted his head slightly and rested it on Qi Yan’s shoulder.

The muscles beneath him tensed abruptly before quickly relaxing. Amused, Xiao Shao kept his eyes closed and remained silent, nuzzling into the crook of Qi Yan’s neck. His disheveled hair slipped past the collar of Qi Yan’s robes, brushing against the skin of his chest. The feather-light touch sent a shiver through Qi Yan, but he soon steadied himself, allowing Xiao Shao to use his shoulder as a pillow.

Then, Qi Yan took out his handkerchief and carefully wiped the cold sweat from Xiao Shao’s forehead, his movements meticulous and focused, as if polishing a treasured relic. Xiao Shao lifted his eyelids briefly before closing them again, basking in Qi Yan’s fussing.

Meanwhile, Yao Jin finally reached their location.

He led his men through the woods, staring hopelessly at the inferno atop the mountain.

The terrain here was complex, with uneven ground and winding paths. Without a map or following the stream, it was easy to get lost. And since Second Prince Xiao Shao was notorious for his disdain for books, he surely couldn’t read a map. If he had wandered blindly through the mountains, there was a high chance he had already turned to charcoal.

At this moment, both he and Eunuch He could already envision their bleak futures—fallen from the Emperor’s grace, their lives ruined.

A servant cautiously observed their expressions. "Sir, do we press on?"

Yao Jin gritted his teeth. "Search. Even if there’s the slightest chance, we won’t give up!"

The group hurried through the woods, their black boots crunching through the leaves. Xiao Shao listened intently, eyes closed.

He glanced up at Qi Yan. Xiao Tanhua’s eyes had stayed red since Prince An’s tomb, and though he had managed to compose himself, they were red again now. Xiao Shao felt an inexplicable sense of triumph, smug at the thought it might be for him. The Nine Thousand-Year Lord of his past life, decisive and ruthless, had never shed tears for anyone. He toyed with Qi Yan’s fingers and whispered in his ear, "When Yao Jin arrives, keep this expression. Leave the rest to me."

Qi Yan was startled, but before he could respond, a guard spotted them and shouted, "The Second Prince is here!"

Immediately, the group closed in around them.

Yao Jin approached Xiao Shao, relieved that his official position was at least secure. But before he could show any joy, Xiao Shao suddenly turned his head and spat up blood.

That blood hit Chief Eunuch Yao like a punch to the gut, freezing him in terror. Yao Jin pushed through the crowd and threw himself at Xiao Shao’s side, blubbering, "Your Highness! Second Prince! What’s wrong? What happened?"

Xiao Shao mentally scoffed, thinking, *How noisy.* But outwardly, he remained pale and weak. With great effort, he lifted a trembling hand, playing up the act of a man with one foot in the grave.

"Chief Yao…" His voice trailed off into silence.

Yao Jin clutched his hand, barely daring to breathe. "Yes, Your Highness, I'm here. Speak, please speak..."

Xiao Shao: "Your prince is dying... Carry me down... Then... call a physician..."

"Yes, yes, yes! I'll summon a physician at once!" Yao Jin's forehead beaded with sweat as he ordered his men to chop down two bamboo stalks to fashion a makeshift stretcher and carry Xiao Shao away.

The journey was rough, and Xiao Shao coughed and spat blood incessantly, looking as though he were meeting his maker. Yao Jin's heart twisted into knots—every cough from Xiao Shao made his heart skip a beat. By the time they finally carried him back to the residence and dragged the city's best physician in for treatment, the sun was already high in the sky.

The elderly physician took Xiao Shao's pulse, pondering carefully for a moment. The room held its breath until the old man sighed. "His Highness's pulse is extremely erratic—sometimes faint and soft, like duckweed floating on water, and at other times vigorous and bursting with energy. In my fifty years of practice, I have never encountered such a peculiar pulse. It resembles the signs of poisoning... I can only do my best to treat him. You must all prepare yourselves."

As soon as he finished speaking, Yao Jin's knees nearly dropped him to his knees.

At that moment, Eunuch He hurried in from outside. He and Yao Jin had split up to search, each leading a team, and he had only just received the news.

If Yao Jin, as the garrison commander, merely risked the emperor's displeasure for a prince coming to harm under his jurisdiction, then Eunuch He, sent by imperial order to accompany Xiao Shao to Hedong, would pay dearly. At best, he would be deemed incompetent; at worst, he could be accused of gross negligence. If anything truly befell Xiao Shao, he would lose his head.

Qi Yan, who had been wiping sweat from Xiao Shao's brow by the bedside, was shoved aside by Eunuch He. The old eunuch knelt before the bed, lamenting, "Your Highness, my dear prince! This old servant was only gone for a day—who has done this to you? Your Highness is so exalted, who would dare poison you?!"

Xiao Shao had been enjoying Xiao Tanhu's attentive service, only for the beauty to be pushed aside and replaced by a wrinkled, tear-streaked face. He almost lost his composure but quickly composed himself, coughing weakly before reciting his rehearsed tale: "Ever since leaving Hedong Prefecture... I've felt dizzy. Later, on... *cough cough*... on Qinglong Mountain... *cough cough*... I dug up some bamboo shoots to eat... Somehow, I just..."

Then, clutching at Eunuch He's sleeve, he gasped, "Eunuch He... Someone is trying... to kill me... You must... investigate for me... Your prince wants them dead... for vengeance!"

Eunuch He bobbed his head frantically, his face unconsciously twisting into a vicious expression as he thought—if Xiao Shao died, the emperor would likely demand his life in return.

Whoever was behind this wasn’t just targeting Xiao Shao—they had signed his death warrant too.

Beside him, Yao Jin spoke up. "Your Highness, rest assured. Humble as this servant's skills may be, I am still the garrison commander of Hedong, and Eunuch He is connected to the Eastern Depot. Between us we'll root out who is so ruthless as to dare plot against a prince."

The ghost of a smile touched Xiao Shao’s lips.

This grand performance of his had one purpose—to drag Eunuch He and Yao Jin into the fray.

There were two reasons for this. First, though Xiao Shao was an imperial envoy, his mandate was limited to flood control—his edict only authorized him to mobilize laborers for canal and dam construction. He had no authority to investigate the Silver Case.

Second, though Xiao Shao was a prince, he held no real power. Yao Jin’s troops and Eunuch He’s Eastern Depot forces were not under his command. Even if he recklessly demanded their cooperation, these two would prefer to avoid trouble rather than risk offending Song Lvyang and the crown prince. They would give it only token attention, which would not only fail to uncover the truth but also tip off the crown prince and invite his suspicion.

Thus, the only way to secure their cooperation was to bind them to his cause by shared interests.

After all, the only forces in Hedong capable of confronting Song Lvyang head-on were the garrison and the Eastern Depot.

And Xiao Shao’s greatest bargaining chip was his own life.

To lure Song Lvyang into making a move, Xiao Shao had deliberately discussed the Silver Case with Qi Yan at the banquet, deliberately purchased an old horse under the watchful eyes of numerous spies near his residence, deliberately left the horse in a bustling inn, and deliberately stayed out all night—leaving plenty of openings.

Song Lvyang, already guilty over the Qi family’s suffering and seeing how favored Qi Yan was by Xiao Shao, grew increasingly anxious. If the truth were uncovered, he would face lingchi execution, or worse—the extermination of his entire clan. Thus, he took the desperate measure of torching the mountainside, setting the stage for the ensuing drama.

With a prince poisoned and nearly killed under their watch, Yao Jin and Eunuch He would have no choice but to answer to the emperor. If Xiao Shao claimed he had felt dizzy in Hedong Prefecture, they would have to investigate Song Lvyang. If he said he was poisoned by bamboo shoots on Qinglong Mountain, they would have to turn that mountain inside out. The more they uncovered, the lighter their punishment would be—so they would spare no effort in turning Hedong upside down.

Once the private cultivation of assassins, the Eighth Prince’s tomb, and the mercury came to light, Xiao Shao would then coordinate with Senior Tutor Song. The old man would submit a memorial outlining the suspicious findings, and by then, the deeper connections to the crown prince would force the Eastern Depot to investigate, whether they wanted to or not.

All Xiao Shao had to do was play the pitiful victim by his father’s side.

Now, the show had only just begun. Xiao Shao’s self-sacrificial act was fully prepared—under Yao Jin and Eunuch He’s watchful eyes, he continued to vomit blood, soaking through handkerchief after handkerchief, shivering and complaining of cold. The physicians examined him again and again but remained helpless. Yao Jin and Eunuch He circled him anxiously, their hair graying from worry, their expressions growing increasingly venomous—grinding their teeth as if they wished to tear the mastermind limb from limb.

They bustled around Xiao Shao’s bedside all afternoon, attending to everything personally. Though the noise gave him a headache, Xiao Shao had no choice but to keep up the act. Only when night fell did he finally dismiss them.

At last, Qi Yan, who had been pushed aside earlier, could return to the bedside and resume wiping Xiao Shao’s sweat.

He still wore that same proper, cautious expression. Amused, Xiao Shao felt a mischievous urge.

He coughed twice, spat blood, then lifted the blanket slightly and whispered, "Xiao Tanhu... I'm cold."