Chapter 124: Xiaojiu’s Assistance

Chapter 124: Xiaojiu Lends a Hand

Spring winds turn warm, and new willows thrive.

The annual temple fair on Jinxing South Street is the most anticipated event for the children of the capital.

Sweet candied hawthorns, charming dough figurines, and the aroma of food wafting through the streets—plus, theatrical troupes parade clay temple-fair dolls through the alleys, beating drums and gongs. If they run into someone important and say a few lucky words, they might get a hefty tip.

Amid the bustling crowd of the temple fair, Little Qin Jiao dashes around with young Jiang Qingrong, everything they see new and thrilling.

"Qingrong, didn't you say you'd take me to buy a dough figurine?" young Qin Jiao tugs at Jiang Qingrong's sleeve.

They've been watching the ring toss for quite a while now. Whenever someone lands a ring, the crowd lets out envious oohs and aahs. It's too noisy—Qin Jiao doesn't like such loud, chaotic places.

"Don't rush, we'll go in a bit!" Jiang Qingrong furrows his brows and pats Little Qin Jiao's head absentmindedly.

"Qingrong, let's go."

Little Qin Jiao calls Jiang Qingrong again, but he's too caught up in the ring toss to hear Qin Jiao.

As someone wins another beautifully crafted butterfly kite, Jiang Qingrong exclaims, "Qin Jiao, look at this ring toss—isn't it fun? Too bad I only have three copper coins, or I'd definitely win that big goose for you to take for a walk!"

The temple fair gets livelier, and the crowd around the ring-toss stall keeps growing. Young Jiang Qingrong claps his hands in excitement, "Great, yes! Go for that goose—see how it stretches its neck all mean!"

"Impressive!"

"Nobody's got aim like that!"

"Right! Roast goose, braised goose—this guy's eating well tonight!"

The biggest prize has been won, and with people going on and on about all sorts of delicacies, Jiang Qingrong suddenly finds the ring toss boring and his stomach growling. He reaches out to grab Little Qin Jiao, "Don't pout, come on—brother will take you to buy dough figurines and crab porridge! Huh? Where'd you go?"

Jiang Qingrong's first grab misses Qin Jiao, and he's confused. When his second grab still finds nothing, he turns around—and there's no one beside him. Qin Jiao is gone.

Oh no, Qin Jiao can't be lost!

Young Jiang Qingrong is terrified. He quickly pushes through the crowd, shouting in panic, "Qin Jiao, where are you? Qin Jiao!"

Today, Jiang Qingrong sneaked out with Qin Jiao without telling his family, and the two didn't bring any guards. He searches through several streets and shops, even checking the dough figurine stall Qin Jiao most wanted to visit, but still can't find him.

Now young Qingrong really panics. Jinxing South Street is closest to the Qin residence, so he rushes there to raise the alarm. He's heard that many child abductors have recently appeared in the capital—if Qin Jiao really is lost, his own parents and the Qin family will skin him alive, and he'd never forgive himself!

The crowd surges, loud and chaotic.

Little Qin Jiao doesn't know how he got separated from Jiang Qingrong—perhaps he was swept away by the crowd, or perhaps someone pulled him away deliberately. Either way, by the time he realizes something's wrong, he's already been thrown over someone's shoulder with a burlap sack over his head, carried to a dark, hidden spot.

"No, don't tie me up—I don't want to be a temple fair doll..."

Little Qin Jiao squirms uneasily, as if countless suffocating, foul-smelling grains of sand are pressing in on him. Every cough makes his lungs ache. In the pitch darkness, countless hands touch him, many eyes stare at him, and people's lips are moving as if they're shouting something excitedly.

"Wow, this temple fair doll isn't real, is it? It feels so soft."

"Let me feel?"

"Really! Aren't temple fair dolls usually made of wood or clay? What's it made of?"

"Hey, don't go—let us get another look!"

"Oh my, what a cute doll!"

A jumble of voices rings in his ears. The darkness makes the suffocation and terror a thousand times worse—the noise fades, his breathing slows, the bitter taste of medicine lingers in his mouth, and pain seeps into his limbs like a drizzling rain.

Just as Little Qin Jiao is about to suffocate, a ray of light breaks through!

"Put him down."

It sounds like a young master's voice—cold and sharp.

"Hey, what's your name? Where do you live?" Little Qin Jiao feels someone nudge him. He looks up groggily, but only sees a blurry glow of light.

"Is this your jade pendant? Here, take it. Don't lose it again."

Faint firelight flickers before his eyes, and voices drift in and out in Little Qin Jiao's ears.

"Can't speak? Then write your name down—I'll have someone take you home."

On that chilly early-spring night, young Qin Jiao grabs a half-burned wooden stick and shakily writes his name.

Perhaps because his hand was injured, perhaps because his head was splitting with pain and his vision was blurred—in any case, when Qin Jiao finishes, the characters "Qin Jiao" have been written all crooked, the strokes jumbled and unrecognizable.

"Your name is Xiao Jiu?"

"I'm called Xiaojiu—and what's your name, young master?"

"No, I'm not Xiaojiu, and I'm not Xiao Jiu either..."

"Found him! We found the young master!"

Countless fragments flash through his mind. Qin Jiao can no longer distinguish reality from dreams, childhood from the present. A dull pain throbs from his temples, and that hazy, chaotic pain seems to become something solid—a thousand-pound weight dragging him down, deeper and deeper.

Until a fierce voice rings out: "Qin Jiao, get out here right now!"

-

"This is the prince's bedchamber—Young Master Xiaojiu can't just barge in!"

As soon as Xiaojiu enters the prince's residence, he charges straight for Xie Nai's bedchamber without a second thought. Luo Yue quickly blocks his way, "The prince left orders that no one is to enter. Please don't make this hard for me."

"Brother Xie would never stop me—you're lying."

Xiaojiu ignores him. After how Qin Jiao treated him yesterday, he's still fuming. So early this morning, he came straight to the residence—only to overhear the servants whispering that the prince had brought someone back to his bedchamber last night.

Xiaojiu puts two and two together, and he knows it must be Qin Jiao. So while Xie Nai is meeting guests in the front hall, Xiaojiu charges over looking ready to kill.

He's as slippery as an eel, constantly trying to slip past Luo Yue toward the bedchamber, leaving poor Luo Yue to block him left and right without daring to hurt him.

"Oh, Chancellor Lin—what are you doing here?" Xiaojiu suddenly exclaims.

"Lin Wen?"

Luo Yue turns, startled, and in that moment, Xiaojiu darts past him and reaches the door.

"Young Master Xiaojiu, you can't go in there!"

"What's all this ruckus—whose kid is this?"

Luo Yue's anxious shouts and Military Doctor Hou's booming scolding ring out at the same time.

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