Chapter 5: Once Taken, Never Returned

Chapter 5: Once You Take Him, You Can't Send Him Back

"Really, I've changed my ways. I won't force you, and I won't hurt you. I just want to set you free and give you back your freedom."

Sang Yu glanced at him, his dark eyes slowly drifting to the people kneeling on the ground.

"Ha."

He closed his eyes, completely tuning him out.

Li Zhiming wanted to keep talking, but the guy just shut him out, closing his eyes and zoning out, ignoring him entirely.

No choice—he could only leave the dungeon for now.

At least this time he'd treated his wounds and exchanged a few words—at least that was some progress.

Ugh, what a headache.

Back in his room, Feng Yin finally spoke in a low voice: "Young Master, locking someone up without authorization is already wrong. If anyone finds out you tortured Young Master Yu, it could drag the Prime Minister's household into trouble. Why would you let them do this?"

What?

Let them?

Li Zhiming caught another key phrase and shot to his feet: "Did I order anyone to do this to him?"

"I never heard you give that order, Young Master."

Feng Yin was puzzled, but as a martial artist with a one-track mind, he didn't think anything was weird.

"What would happen if it were discovered?"

"Young Master was recently appointed as a deputy minister by His Majesty. If someone with bad intentions uses this against you, you could be charged for using torture. Even if His Majesty doesn't punish you, the Prime Minister... I'm afraid..."

Right, he'd dealt with all kinds of plots while filming, so he knew what this meant.

A monarch hates nothing more than having his authority challenged.

He didn't yet know what kind of person his Prime Minister father was, but from the guard's words, he had a feeling the old man was definitely strict.

In the end, he'd be the one paying for it.

With that in mind, Li Zhiming's mind raced.

He replayed every detail in his head.

Those guards at the dungeon seemed kind of off—when he showed up out of nowhere, they were panicked and scared instead of trying to take credit.

Li Zhiming rubbed his temples, looking pained: "There's been too much going on lately, and I can't quite remember. How did I take him back?"

"You really are cold-hearted, Young Master," Feng Yin muttered under his breath.

After receiving a warning glare from Li Zhiming, Feng Yin snapped to attention and answered honestly.

"That day, when the general marched back to the capital in victory, he planned to bring Young Master Yu to the palace to see the Emperor, but for some reason, the Emperor wouldn't see him. When the Second Prince left the palace, he took a fancy to Young Master Yu and wanted to take him. You just happened to pass by and threw a tantrum to take the beauty for yourself. The Second Prince just gave him to you."

"What? What was the Second Prince thinking at that moment?"

"I wouldn't know."

How come even the Emperor's son likes men?

With such high and mighty statuses, they sure play around a lot. What's so great about a stiff, hard-bodied guy compared to a soft, gentle girl?

Ain't a pretty girl way better?

After a night that nearly blew his mind, early the next morning, Li Zhiming decided to go pay this Second Prince a visit first—maybe he could find out more.

The Second Prince, Nan Rong Lin—son of the favored Imperial Noble Consort, was titled Prince Cheng.

It was said he was accomplished in both civil and martial arts, a rare talent among the many princes. However, his personal life was a mess, and he couldn't care less about politics and only cared about having fun.

What people loved to gossip about most was Prince Cheng's taste for men.

The Prince Cheng mansion always had a steady stream of male companions, every single one of them delicate, effeminate pretty boys.

Maybe it was to protect his image, maybe he had other plans, or maybe he just got bored easily—nobody could stay at the Prince Cheng mansion for more than a month before getting kicked out.

But they all got a big payout.

For the sake of climbing the social ladder and getting rich, countless people threw themselves at him, and they'd always come up with their own excuses to show up.

But as for someone Prince Cheng actively pursued and wanted to take home—so far, Sang Yu, the Prince of Nanxun, was the first.

When he arrived at the Prince Cheng mansion, he was led to the front hall for tea while a servant went to announce him.

Prince Cheng strolled in wearing a blue robe, fanning himself with a folding fan, giving off that dashing, aristocratic playboy vibe.

"Zhi Ming, what brings you here to see me?"

Li Zhiming rose and bowed in greeting: "This humble one greets Your Highness."

"Why are we being so distant?" Nan Rong Lin warmly gestured to him. "Sit, sit, sit. So, how's that beauty you've got stashed away at your place?"

Li Zhiming studied his face without letting anything show, saying: "That beauty at my place is carrying on like she's dying—it's truly heartbreaking."

Then he tested the waters: "Didn't Your Highness have an eye for that beauty? I was reckless and clueless before. I've come to make amends—please punish me, Your Highness."

"No need."

With that, he clapped his hands toward the entrance.

In walked a... man dressed in pink.

Barefoot, he sashayed over all flashy, throwing himself into Nan Rong Lin's arms, speaking in a sugary, fake voice: "My Prince~"

Ugh...

Li Zhiming's skin crawled.

Nan Rong Lin caressed the man's cheek, then took his hand, brought it to his lips, and pecked it, not caring at all whether Li Zhiming was watching.

"Take a look—what do you think of my beauty here?"

He grabbed the man's chin and turned it toward Li Zhiming, his expression unreadable.

Li Zhiming really couldn't figure these people out—it was like they had a thousand tricks up their sleeves, and everything they said was vague and cryptic, leaving you to guess what they meant.

He replied with a feigned smile, "Your Highness's lady is naturally graceful and alluring."

Nan Ronglin was quite pleased by these words.

Li Zhiming seized the chance to ask, "Your Highness, I came here also to seek your advice. Young Master Yu, being the Prince of Nanxun, it's not proper for him to stay at my residence indefinitely. According to the law, as a hostage, he should have his own residence. Would it be alright if I sent him back? Please advise me, Your Highness."

"You want to send him away?"

"Yes."

"Hahaha..."

Nan Ronglin burst into laughter, his gaze slowly turning cold. He tightened his grip, causing the delicate man to wince in pain but dare not make a sound.

He abruptly released his hold and kicked the man away, who scrambled to leave.

So the Second Prince wasn't really one for idle pleasures, it seemed.

Li Zhiming quietly took note.

After the laughter subsided, Nan Ronglin's expression turned solemn, and his tone was cryptic: "Zhiming, it's because we're close that I'm being straight with you. Some things, once taken, can never be returned."

Li Zhiming looked confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Young Master Yu's identity is special; one wrong move could be fatal."

As he spoke slowly, Li Zhiming's vision blurred until he could only see his mouth moving, and the folding fan seemed to shatter into countless pieces, leaving him dizzy.

He had no idea how he even got out of there.

The moment he stepped out of the residence, a group of black-clad figures swarmed in from all directions, lining up neatly to block his path, their swords glinting coldly.

Good heavens, this was another attempt on his life.

Li Zhiming bolted and ran.

Feng Yin appeared in time, but two fists can't beat four hands; the enemy's numbers were overwhelming, and each fought with reckless abandon, aiming for fatal strikes, much like the death warriors seen on television.

It seemed they had been lying in wait for him deliberately.

Li Zhiming and Feng Yin were quickly cornered into an alley, surrounded by layers of human walls closing in on them.