“If Auntie Xie has no further matters, Yanqing will take his leave.”
The task was to taste the rouge on Auntie Xie’s lips, but it didn’t specify where—buying some from a shop to try with a meal should suffice.
The Wei King’s Heir felt a rush of relief, like skipping a class, oblivious to the shift in Xie Lingwan’s expression, eager to escape the suffocatingly tender Buddhist hall.
But as he stood, Xie Lingwan’s sultry voice stopped him.
“Yanqing, Auntie has one more thing to say.”
She straightened, hands folded at her waist, stepping slowly toward Ji Yanqing with concern. “Those filthy places like brothels—stay away from them.
Those courtesans may seem pure and charming, but they’re dirtier than you can imagine.”
Ji Yanqing spread his hands helplessly. “Auntie, you taught me to play it safe. For His Majesty, what’s more reassuring than a debauched, pleasure-seeking heir?”
“That’s true, but you can’t spend all your time in brothels! As the heir of a vassal king, with your dashing looks, those vulgar women can’t resist you—they’d cling to you in their dreams.”
Her expression grew stern, half-angry, half-resentful. “While you were away from Ye City, seven or eight courtesans came to the mansion, kneeling at the gate, demanding to see you. If I hadn’t threatened to scar their faces, we’d still have no peace.”
“Thank you for your trouble, Auntie,” Ji Yanqing said with an awkward smile. To avoid Xie Lingwan and find some quiet, the brothels’ tunes were a must. But for now, he could only agree.
“I’m your aunt—it’s no trouble to care for you. I just fear you’ll be deceived by some wicked woman, devoured until not even bones remain,” Xie Lingwan sighed, her fox-like eyes gazing softly at the youth.
“I’ll heed your words, Auntie. My dealings with those girls are purely innocent—discussing poetry and art, nothing improper,” Ji Yanqing assured.
“That’s for the best. When you’re ‘tarnishing’ yourself, stop staging scenes like abducting maidens or bullying others. If you keep haunting brothels, every courtesan in Ye City will flock to you,” Xie Lingwan sighed wistfully, dreading that her prized cabbage would be snatched by wild cats.
“Don’t be upset, Auntie. Tomorrow, I’ll take some servants to stir trouble at the brothels, then pay triple the damages as usual,” Ji Yanqing said, stepping behind her to gently massage her shoulders.
Xie Lingwan’s lithe body tensed, her fair legs instinctively pressing together. Glancing at Ji Yanqing’s natural expression and clear gaze, she relaxed, accepting his gesture.
How could Yanqing have improper thoughts about her? She was losing her mind.
The widowed Xie Lingwan, in her mid-twenties, scolded herself for entertaining such nonsense, unbecoming of an elder.
…
After narrowly escaping the Buddhist hall, Ji Yanqing immediately sought Mo Pang.
In the gallery outside the courtyard, Mo Pang was waiting. Seeing the heir emerge from the Begonia Gate, he approached.
“Young lord, visit Lady Xie more often. She sees you as her own brother.”
Ji Yanqing felt a stab of guilt, as if his conscience were bleeding.
In the years since Xie Lingwan came to the Wei King’s Mansion, she’d poured her heart into caring for him. How could he heed that scummy narrator’s vile suggestions and act like a beast?
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Ji Yanqing nodded silently, agreeing, the scent of her rouge still lingering on his collar.
“You’re right, Mo Bo. I should visit Auntie more.”
“How’s the spy investigation?” Ji Yanqing asked, shifting to business after brief pleasantries.
“We’ve found the person,” Mo Pang replied.
“Already?!” Ji Yanqing exclaimed, stunned by the mansion’s efficiency.
“After the Consort’s passing, the Lanling Xiao clan sent five ten-year-old girls to mourn her. The issue lies with one of them.”
“In her bedroom’s hidden compartment, we found papers detailing Your Highness’s movements. The handwriting and timing are verified—undeniable.”
Ji Yanqing frowned, puzzled. “The Xiao clan has no grudge with our mansion, and with my mother’s marital ties, why would they target me?”
“No grudge, but the relationship isn’t exactly warm. Noble families intermarry, rarely wedding outsiders except for palace consorts,” Mo Pang said with a cold snort.
“Miss Xiao Yao, their prized jewel, ended up with a ruffian. Even after he was ennobled as a king, they never respected the Wei King. This marriage is a stain they avoid mentioning.”
“It’s not just the Xiao clan. Anyone eyeing the Wei King’s Mansion would need to weigh our ten thousand Tiger-Leopard Cavalry,” Ji Yanqing mused.
“And your thoughts, young lord?”
“Rumors in the capital say, ‘The Emperor seeks to curb the vassals,’” Ji Yanqing said with a faint smile. “As both vassals and imperial kin, the Xiao clan must ease His Majesty’s burdens.”
Mo Pang bowed immediately. “Your Highness is wise. I thought the same.”
Sleeves together, Mo Pang quickened his pace, leading the heir toward the dungeon.
As a pilgrimage site for assassins, the Wei King’s Mansion welcomed all comers. To host these reckless fools, they built an impregnable dungeon offering “services” like finger-chopping, tendon-slicing, burning, drowning in pig cages, and skinning—ensuring entrants arrived whole and left in pieces.
With the creak of mechanisms, a thousand-jin iron-clad stone door opened, flanked by dozens of Radiant Sun Realm guards in armor, holding halberds, standing vigilant.
The dungeon was dim, reeking of damp rot, like a decaying corpse, churning the stomach.
From a corner came venomous curses: “Ji the Third, you shameless cur!”
“I trusted you! Bah! Wei King’s lapdog!”
“If I get my hands on you, you’re dead!”
Mo Pang glanced at Ji Yanqing, who shook his head helplessly. “No rush. Heroine Ji’s fiery spirit needs time to tame. The spy takes priority.”
Mo Pang’s face lit with understanding, cautiously advising, “Be careful, young lord. Don’t let Lady Xie catch you.”
“Mo Bo, let me expl— It’s not what you think. Heroine Ji and I just met; it’s a misunderstanding, hence this measure.”
“I understand, I understand. Rest assured, young lord, my lips are sealed—I won’t breathe a word to Lady Xie,” Mo Pang said with a knowing nod.
Ji Yanqing gave a wry smile. With a beauty like Ji Qingyan forcibly brought to the mansion, it did look like a naive heroine ensnared by a lecherous noble.
…
Knowing he couldn’t clear things up quickly, he followed Mo Pang forward.
Who was this Xiao clan spy hiding in the mansion?
In the deepest cell, a pungent stench filled the air. On a wooden bed lay a woman with delicate features, her dress neat, her face rosy, a charming smile on her lips.
Facing this eerie scene, Ji Yanqing was about to speak when Mo Pang said calmly, “Your Highness, this is the Xiao clan’s spy. Not a single wound on her body, and silver needle tests show no trace of poison.”
“But… she’s already dead.”
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