Chapter 64

Chapter 64

That evening, Lin Ting was flipping through a storybook when he noticed faint tremors coming from the ground in the distance.

He glanced at the hourglass in the corner—it was already dinnertime. Closing the book, he stood up and grabbed his waistline, which had grown noticeably rounder after days of eating and sleeping. "Tsk... I should eat less tonight," he grumbled.

Turning his head, he saw Yang Gongming bent over his desk, completely absorbed in his books, deaf to the outside world. Lin Ting hesitated but decided not to disturb him. The boy had finally settled down, and he didn’t want to deal with the noise again.

Within moments, footsteps approached. Lin Ting stepped to the cell door and saw two masked figures in black walking toward them.

He studied their gait—something about it felt off compared to the Tianxuan Guard.

The two stopped in front of their cell, set down a meal tray, and fumbled with the lock to unlock the door. But their movements were clumsy, and they struggled in vain for a while without success.

Lin Ting’s suspicion grew as he watched their unfamiliar actions. Finally, he couldn’t hold back: "Where are the people who delivered meals the past few days? Why are you two here instead?"

Having spent so much time in the palace, he had never seen these two among the Tianxuan Guard.

The men remained silent, still fiddling with the keys.

Lin Ting’s heart clenched—something was very, very wrong. He placed a hand against the cell door and pushed further, "Are you from the City Patrol?"

The two paused, shared a look, and nodded.

Lin Ting’s heart sank.

The City Patrol? Impossible. Only the Tianxuan Guard delivered their meals daily—the City Patrol couldn’t even enter the gates of the prison.

Meanwhile, Zhuo and Qingshan, hidden on the beams above, tightened their grips on their swords.

Finally, one of the men finally opened the cell door and thrust the meal tray toward Lin Ting. "Eat," he said gruffly in a rough but unmistakably Great Yong accent.

Lin Ting’s mind raced—the voice was unfamiliar. Who were they?

"Do you know the Tianxuan Guard?"

He held his gaze with the man and noticed his pupils contract slightly at the mention of the Tianxuan Guard—as if afraid.

Lin Ting suddenly raised his voice, "You’re not here to deliver food. Who are you?"

Beside him, Yang Gongming, who had already lifted his chopsticks to eat, paused in confusion. "What’s going on?"

Lin Ting kept his gaze fixed on the intruders. "They’re not here to bring us food. Brother Yang, don’t eat."

Yang Gongming sprang to his feet. "Are you the stooges those traitorous ministers sent to kill us?"

He seized a wooden stave from the wall and pointed it at the masked men. "A gentleman prefers death to humiliation! I, Yang Gongming, will never yield! If you dare come closer, I’ll—I’ll drag you down with me!"

"Trying to poison us and stage a suicide? Go back and tell your master that if he has the guts, he should face us directly! I, Yang Gongming, stand with integrity—I’m not afraid of him!"

Lin Ting glanced at Yang Gongming’s noticeably slimmer frame compared to the intruders and sighed inwardly. *This kid really has no situational awareness.*

If they fought head-on, they’d get tossed aside in seconds.

He glanced up at the beams—thankfully, Zhuo and the others were still there. He relaxed slightly.

Just then, one of the black-clad men removed his mask. "Lord Lin, Brother Yang... it’s me."

"A Qiu?" Yang Gongming gasped. "Why—how are you here?"

Lin Ting’s heart lurched. Like dominoes, the puzzle pieces connected in his mind.

He suddenly remembered what Pei Xingjian had told him—someone claimed to have seen him visiting the rear woodshed of Nanxiang Temple before the imperial examination. That day, A Qiu had told him Yang Gongming was sick. And the nobleman they’d run into—who would stumble upon a rear woodshed unless they were looking for it?

A Qiu had been plotting against them all along.

The other man also removed his mask, revealing a face Lin Ting recognized. "You’re the steward from the Marquis of Anding’s household."

The man bowed his head. "After the Marquis’s downfall, I was left homeless. My master took me in."

*Master?* Lin Ting turned to A Qiu. "A Qiu, what are you doing here?"

A Qiu spoke in broken Great Yong accent, "Brother Yang, Lord Lin... don’t you see? The new emperor of Great Yong is a tyrant—ruthless, disregarding human life. Innocents by the thousands have died by his hand. He will face heaven's punishment. Will you still follow such a cruel ruler?"

Yang Gongming’s mind went blank. "Wh-what are you saying?"

A Qiu grabbed his hand. "Every day in court, aren’t you afraid? Don’t you worry that one day, you’ll end up like the Marquis of Anding—your entire family executed?"

Lin Ting thought to himself, *Not only am I not afraid, I would even bet my life in Chonghua Palace.*

"But the Marquis of Anding rebelled—"

"Stop being naive!" the steward roared. "My lord served the nation faithfully! The tyrant feared his influence and framed him! If I hadn’t been away that day, who would seek justice for him?"

Lin Ting couldn’t help retorting, "Your lord really did rebel. And your young master—how many lives did he ruin?"

The steward yanked Lin Ting’s collar, eyes burning. "What do you know? My young master merely frolicked! Why did he deserve death?"

Lin Ting: *...No wonder they defected. Blind and brainwashed.*

A Qiu pressed on, "Brother Yang, though your loyalty is true-hearted, the tyrant has reduced you to this. Every night, you must sleep—" He glanced at the padded bed in the cell. "—fitfully, in such—" His eyes swept over the rug-covered floor. "—wretched conditions. In just days, you’ve—"

Yang Gongming scratched his temple. "Huh? But I’ve actually been... quite content?" He pointed at the food. "We get good meat every day—I’ve even put on pounds."

For a brief moment, A Qiu’s composure faltered.

Unfazed, he insisted, "That’s the tyrant lowering your defenses! Once you let your guard down, he’ll poison you!"

Yang Gongming, never one for subtlety, pointed at the food. "So... did you poison it?"

A Qiu: "..."

When no answer came, Lin Ting’s heart sank. "You really did drug it."

A Qiu admitted, "Just a mild sedative."

Lin Ting realized. "So once we’re unconscious, you can take us away. Whether we ‘escaped’ or not, the emperor would never take us back. Then we’d have no choice but to defect to Yelang with you."

Suddenly, he realized—with all this commotion, no guards had come running.

"What did you do to the jailers?"

At this point, A Qiu suddenly laughed, "We merely put them to sleep. Right now, this prison is all ours. If you join Yelang, I swear Yelang will treat you with the honors due to a state counselor."

"Isn't that better than living on edge in Great Yong?"

Lin Ting clicked his tongue, thinking to himself, *You're a little late for that.*

Yang Gongming refused without hesitation, "No way. As a citizen of Great Yong, how could I betray my country for the enemy?"

"Exactly," Lin Ting added. "His Majesty's headaches have improved recently, and he hasn't killed anyone innocent in a while. What you call 'senseless brutality' is already in the past."

Yang Gongming said disappointedly, "A Qiu, you were my first friend in the capital. I never expected you to be a spy from Yelang."

A Qiu finally lost his cool. "Since you refuse to leave, then today we'll have to take you out."

He drew a dagger and advanced toward Lin Ting.

Lin Ting retreated two steps, pulling out a hidden short blade from under the bed. "Holy hell! You promised you’d treat us right, but just because we refused, you're going to shut us up for good?"

Backed into a corner, Lin Ting shut his eyes and shouted,

"Zhuo! Qing Shan!"

Instantly, two figures dropped down from the rafters, their blades knocking A Qiu's dagger away. Within two moves, Zhuo pinned A Qiu down, while Qing Shan restrained the steward.

Yang Gongming was floored again. "When did these two get in here?"

Lin Ting scratched his head sheepishly. "Uh... from the very beginning."

Yang Gongming still didn’t understand. "So... what’s the deal here?"

A Qiu, now bound by the Tianxuan Guard, finally realized. "We walked right into a trap."

Lin Ting raised an eyebrow. "Did you honestly think someone of your skill could break into the Ministry of Justice prison? If we hadn’t acted as bait, you wouldn’t have walked right in."

A Qiu’s eyes nearly popped with rage. "You—"

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the prison, shaking the ground.

Lin Ting nearly fell. "What in the blazes was that?"

Zhuo reported, "They set off gunpowder to cover their escape."

Lin Ting gasped. "Damn, they went all out!"

Zhuo grabbed him. "Lord Lin, I’ll get you out first."

Lin Ting grabbed onto Zhuo’s arm. "Good, let’s go, quick!"

He glared at A Qiu. "How ruthless. His Majesty will never spare you."

...

Outside the Ministry of Justice prison, imperial guards in golden armor stood ready. At their forefront, the young emperor, clad in black with the imperial sword at his waist, fixed a cold stare at the sealed gates.

"Your Majesty," Zhao Dehai approached with a squad. "The Vice Censor and several officials accused of trafficking state secrets have been arrested."

Pei Xingjian glanced at them. The arrested officials had been struggling, but under the emperor’s icy gaze, they fell silent.

"Your servant also caught a few suspicious figures lurking outside—likely Yelang people."

Pei Xingjian ordered coldly, "Lock them up."

"Yes."

Zhao Dehai eyed the prison gates anxiously. They had waited so long—why was there still no movement inside? "Heavens, how long must this take?"

Had something gone wrong?

The temperature seemed to drop.

Zhao Dehai shivered and stole a glance at the emperor. His face was tense, his gaze burning with barely contained worry as if trying to bore a hole through the gates. His fingers clenched the sword hilt, veins bulging on his arm, revealing his agitation.

Zhao Dehai slapped himself twice. *Keep your mouth shut!*

Lord Lin meant everything to His Majesty—and to them. Besides, with Zhuo and Qing Shan inside, plus the extra guards, Lord Lin would surely emerge unharmed.

"Smoke! There’s smoke coming out!" someone in the crowd shouted.

Tension shot through the crowd.

Pei Xingjian’s eyes darkened, his breath coming fast. He drew his sword and commanded, "Follow me!"

The guards surged forward, following the emperor into the prison.

The gates blew open, thick smoke billowing out, blotting out the hallways. Pei Xingjian calmly directed the guards to split into teams for a thorough search.

"Leave no one behind."

The prison had been expanded during the late emperor’s reign, doubling in size. A full search would take time.

Pei Xingjian saw no sign of Lin Ting. A lead weight settled in his chest. As he moved to descend the steps, Zhao Dehai stopped him.

"Your Majesty, you can’t!" Zhao Dehai couldn’t even see inside clearly. If the emperor came to harm— "Let this old servant go instead."

"Zhao Dehai," Pei Xingjian’s voice was iron. "Do you think I could go on without him?"

He told himself everything had been prepared—Lin Ting would be fine. But his mind raced through every terrible possibility. *He agreed to Lin Ting’s plan. If anything happened...*

Zhao Dehai’s heart clenched. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

The emperor’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes bloodshot.

Then, a shape materialized from the smoke.

Zhao Dehai squinted, then shouted in relief, "It’s Lord Lin! He’s out!"

Pei Xingjian’s gaze locked onto the silhouette, his breath coming in short bursts as the figure stepped forward.

Lin Ting, leaning on Zhuo, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Pei Xingjian. "Your Majesty? Why are you here?"

Their eyes met. Lin Ting startled at the bloodshot intensity in Pei Xingjian’s gaze. "What’s wrong—"

The scent of sandalwood overwhelmed him. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, yanking him into a bone-crushing hug. Lin Ting nearly drunk on the scent.

He let out an involuntary sound, shifting slightly—only for the arms to tighten, knocking the wind out of him. The cold radiating from Pei Xingjian’s body suggested he’d been standing there for a long time.

When Lin Ting finally managed to lift his head from the emperor’s shoulder, he saw Zhao Dehai and the guards watching from behind.

The men averted their eyes pointedly, looking elsewhere.

Lin Ting flushed as he said sheepishly, "Your Majesty, we're still outside." They were being watched by onlookers.

Pei Xingjian eased his grip slightly, his dark eyes locked onto Lin Ting's face for a long moment before replying, "Alright, let's go to the carriage."

Turning, he commanded, "Proceed as planned."

Zhao Dehai bowed deeply. "Understood."

Lin Ting was all but carried into the carriage. As soon as Pei Xingjian let go, he scrambled upright. Just as he was about to speak, Pei Xingjian’s face filled his vision.

His ears were cupped again, and soft lips met his.

Lin Ting froze, his mind exploding in shock. *Holy shit, Pei Xingjian just kissed me?!*

He shoved against Pei Xingjian’s chest, trying to pull away, but Pei Xingjian just cupped his head and dragged him closer, his cool chest pressing flush against him.

"Mmph—" Lin Ting choked out a sound—he couldn’t breathe.

Pei Xingjian opened his eyes to look at him, his dark eyes burning with something unreadable, as if trying to drown Lin Ting in their depths.

Noticing Lin Ting's flushed face from lack of air, Pei Xingjian pulled back slightly. A silvery strand clung between their lips, glistening in the air.

Lin Ting's lips were wet and red, his cheeks tinged pink, his dazed gaze lifting to Pei Xingjian as if he'd been thoroughly ravaged.

Pei Xingjian’s eyes turned predatory. "Be good," he coaxed, voice low. "Close your eyes."

Lin Ting’s mind had gone blank by now—he obeyed without thought, shutting his eyes obediently.

Pei Xingjian’s lips found his again, but this time Pei Xingjian adjusted the angle, allowing Lin Ting to breathe more easily.

After a while, Pei Xingjian’s tongue teased his lips. "Open."

Lin Ting complied.

"Mm—!" He was lightheaded...

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Pei Xingjian released him.

Lin Ting gulped air like a drowning man, gulping desperately.

Yet Pei Xingjian still didn't let go, arms like steel bands around his waist, holding him tightly.

Lin Ting wriggled in protest, his lips sore from the friction.

"Your Majesty, perhaps I should get down..."

"Don't move." Pei Xingjian tightened his embrace, nuzzling into Lin Ting’s shoulder, breathing him in greedily.

After a long while, Lin Ting’s stomach gave an audible growl. "Can I at least eat something first?" He hadn't had dinner yet.

Pei Xingjian shifted them both onto a nearby cushion, reaching to open a drawer.

Inside were delicate pastries.

He lifted one to Lin Ting’s mouth. "Eat."

Lin Ting hesitated.

Trapped as he was, and Pei Xingjian showed no intention of releasing him. After a brief internal battle, he relented, taking a bite from Pei Xingjian's hand.

Pei Xingjian fed him five pastries and a bowl of rice porridge, stuffing him until he was pleasantly full.

Finally, when he could eat no more, Pei Xingjian settled Lin Ting back against the cushions. Pei Xingjian tucked a blanket around him, fingers grazing his cheek as he murmured softly,

"Sleep. We'll reach the palace by the time you wake."

Worn out, Lin Ting let his eyes fall shut and slipped under.