Chapter 12: Rescue

Chapter 12: Rescue

The next day.

Early the next morning, Feng Yin came knocking at the door: "Young master, today is the day the Second Young Master and the Crown Prince leave the capital. Aren't you going to see them off?"

He hesitated before asking, "Should I go see them off?"

"Of course." Feng Yin said without hesitation. "This is the Second Young Master's first time leaving the capital, and the Crown Prince is also a good friend of yours. You've seen the Crown Prince off every single time before."

"Alright."

Li Zhiming quickly washed up, threw on some clothes, and headed out.

He arrived a bit late—General Lu and the others were already getting ready to leave. Li Zhixing gave him another round of earnest advice—don't talk back to Dad too much, stay safe—before heading off.

On the way back from the city gate.

Li Zhiming finally noticed the streets here. Unlike the fake, staged feel of a film set, this was a genuine ancient street, filled with the constant shouts of street vendors, even more bustling than the road he'd taken last time.

There were all sorts of odd and curious trinkets, many of which he'd never even seen before.

Li Zhiming almost forgot where he was, fully immersing himself in the experience, looking around like he was strolling through a living museum.

He was starting to get hungry when he happened to spot a stall selling sugar figurines.

"Young master, shall I go buy some?"

Feng Yin noticed him staring with eager eyes and asked on his own.

The sugar figurines were shaped with lifelike detail and looked absolutely delicious.

"Hey there, sir, how about a sugar figurine? This is a family recipe—delicious, I tell ya. You won't find this flavor anywhere else. Come on, give it a try?"

Li Zhiming blinked. "Then, one—no wait, two."

"No, make it three. Boss, three."

He'd grab one for Sang Yu too. The kid was cooped up at home all day, far from his homeland, and as a prince with a special identity, he was probably pretty bored out of his mind.

The boss, a middle-aged man, grinned so wide his eyes squinted into slits: "Alright, alright, three it is. Just a moment."

"Thanks, boss."

The two of them stood by the stall and waited.

Suddenly, a frantic cry of "Help!" caught his attention.

Li Zhiming turned and saw a man dressed like a scholar sprinting out from the corner of an alley up ahead.

Feng Yin reacted quickly, instantly switching into guard mode: "Danger, young master—get out of here!"

"Help! Help!"

The scholar ran and shouted desperately, glancing back at him as if begging for help.

He must have been running hard—his face was flushed, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes were full of panic and desperation. Behind him, a masked man with a knife seemed to be in pursuit.

He suddenly thought of himself not long ago—new to this world, dying over and over, screaming "Help!" in fear and helplessness.

If no one came to save you, you'd truly feel hopeless.

He instinctively stepped forward: "Feng Yin, stop the guy behind him!"

Just as the scholar was about to reach him, Li Zhiming grabbed his wrist and yanked him along, turning to run.

Once it seemed like there was no sound behind them anymore, Li Zhiming and the scholar ducked into a small side alley. They'd barely caught their breath when they heard a whoosh—the sound of something slicing through the air.

Suddenly, the scholar beside him froze, staring down in shock, then dropped to his knees with a thud.

An arrow had pierced straight through his body, right through the heart.

Watching a living person die right in front of him, Li Zhiming was deeply shaken. He didn't even let go of the man's hand the whole time.

In his daze, before his legs could even move, he became the next target.

Dead.

"Help."

It was that same urgent cry for help again.

Li Zhiming instinctively touched his chest, which still ached faintly. Without a moment to think, he grabbed Feng Yin: "Feng Yin, grab that scholar and go—someone's after him."

He stared intently at the mouth of the alley. A few seconds later, sure enough, a scholar in a blue robe appeared from the corner, running toward him and shouting for help.

Feng Yin, still waiting for the sugar figurines, looked baffled: "Huh?"

"Go! Save him, no matter what! Don't worry about me."

Since he'd been brought back to this critical moment, maybe fate wanted him to save the man too.

"Yes!"

Seeing how anxious Li Zhiming was, Feng Yin didn't dare hesitate. He dashed over, hoisted the frail scholar onto his shoulder, and disappeared in an instant.

Guess that's what martial arts training does—fast indeed.

Li Zhiming looked away and continued waiting by the stall, casually buying the sugar figurines.

The pursuer caught up, found no one, looked around, then took off in one direction to continue the chase.

Only once his figure had completely disappeared did Li Zhiming let out a sigh of relief.

Hope it worked.

"Sir, your sugar figurines are ready." The boss kindly called out to him.

"Oh, right. Thanks, boss."

Clutching three delicate sugar figurines, he tried to find his way home based on his memory of the route.

About ten minutes later, Feng Yin showed up and brought him back.

The scholar had been brought to his residence. Shaken up from the ordeal, he was now resting in the guest room.

"Young Master, should we go ask? Who is that person?"

"No need." Li Zhiming waved his hand. "He was just being pursued by someone, let's not disturb him. Just have someone keep an eye on him, that's all. By the way, where is Sang Yu?"

Feng Yin shook his head. "Not sure. He should be in the courtyard."

"Alright. Here, have a sugar figurine."

He picked out a burly-looking one and handed it to him.

"Thanks—"

"No need, don't be so polite."

Li Zhiming bobbed his head cheerfully, feeling pleased—saving someone had lifted his spirits, and he walked happily toward Sang Yu's courtyard.

"Isn't he just a hostage serving his sentence here? I heard he's a perverted freak. I really don't want to wait on him."

"Exactly. He's so picky about everything, acting like he's a prince."

"Throws a fit over the smallest thing. Who knows what our young master even sees in him."

"I bet the young master is just toying with him and will get bored soon. Our young master's never short of pretty faces around him. Who'd want a lunatic anyway?"

The two maidservants were muttering complaints, loud enough to be heard, not bothering to be discreet. He could hear them before he even stepped into the courtyard.

Li Zhiming frowned and strode in quickly.

The two quickly bowed in greeting: "This servant greets the eldest young master."

"I brought you here to work, not to gossip." Li Zhiming shot them a cold look, his tone displeased. "Don't let it happen again."

"Yes."

"Leave now."

The two maidservants scurried off in a flash. Li Zhiming looked up and met Sang Yu's gaze at the doorway—he had opened the door at some point.

He had no idea how much Sang Yu had overheard.

But his face was blank, those eyes still dark and cold, with a faint trace of murderous intent.