Chief Xu stood at the entrance of Prince Qing's Estate and let out a long, heavy sigh.
He raised his head to look at the sky, his mind drifting back to eight years ago when he first traveled to the Capital City for the imperial examinations.
That day, he had been robbed of his traveling expenses on the road and had managed to reach the Daxing Temple just outside the capital, battered and exhausted.
Just as he was on the verge of starving to faint, a young child had instructed his servants to give him food and had even left him a tael of silver so he could continue his journey to the exams.
Thinking of this, Chief Xu slowly closed his eyes, let out a melancholy sigh, and whispered to himself: "My Prince, how could you have fallen so low?"
...
Accompanied by a crowd of attendants, Zhao Yi arrived at Xiaoyue Pavilion.
Several heavily made-up, garish women immediately swarmed the entrance.
"My lord, you are truly a man of extraordinary talent! Please, come right in!"
"Young master, how many maidens would you like to keep you company?"
"My lord..."
Ignoring them entirely, Zhao Yi walked into Xiaoyue Pavilion with his hands behind his back.
Stepping inside, his eyes brightened.
The main hall was resplendent with gold and jade, brilliantly lit.
Scholars and literati engaged in lofty discourse amid the clinking of wine cups, while hostesses with charming smiles mingled effortlessly with everyone. Graceful dancers performed fluid, mesmerizing routines, and talented musicians played zithers and flutes that filled the air with melody.
To think the Capital City possessed such luxurious nightlife!
He could even spot many foreigners from the border regions.
It was truly an eye-opener.
Although the Capital City enforced a curfew, it began quite late—starting at the Hai hour, around nine in the evening.
Therefore, before the Hai hour, the city remained bustling with activity.
Especially in establishments of pleasure.
Though amazed inwardly, Zhao Yi maintained a calm and collected expression.
Leaving four guards downstairs, Zhao Yi took two guards and a steward upstairs to request a private parlor.
The procuress lit up the moment she laid eyes on Zhao Yi, her gaze shining as if she were looking at pure silver.
"What should I call you, young master?" The procuress sidled up to Zhao Yi, beaming brightly.
A wave of heavy perfume assaulted his nose, causing Zhao Yi to recoil slightly in distaste.
Yet, his gaze never left the procuress.
There was something rather strange about her.
With his sharp and discerning eye, Zhao Yi could tell at a glance that the procuress was actually only around twenty-five years old.
Judging by her bone structure, her facial features should have been quite decent.
Yet she wore layers of thick, gaudy makeup that made her look old and vulgar.
What could be her purpose in deliberately disguising herself to look old and ugly?
"My surname is Zhao." Suppressing his doubts, Zhao Yi gave a simple reply.
"So you are Young Master Zhao." The procuress flashed a flirtatious smile and asked, "I wonder what kind of young women Young Master Zhao is looking for?"
"Bring me the prettiest girls in your Xiaoyue Pavilion!" Zhao Yi declared arrogantly, hands clasped behind his back.
The procuress let out a coy laugh and probed, "Young Master Zhao, the girls at our Xiaoyue Pavilion don't come cheap, you know!"
Hearing this, Zhao Yi didn't say a word; he simply shot a look at the steward.
The steward immediately pulled out a thick stack of banknotes.
At the sight of those bills, the procuress's eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"Young Master Zhao, I'll go arrange it right away!" With that, she sashayed out of the room.
Before any women arrived, a young manservant of about twenty-five entered bearing wine and food.
As the servant set the dishes down on the table, Zhao Yi was suddenly struck by the calluses on the man's right hand.
The calluses reminded him of the ones worn by his own guards.
They were an exact match.
Aside from hard labor, the most likely cause was the practice of martial arts.
A martial artist working as a servant?
This Xiaoyue Pavilion was getting more interesting by the minute.
Keeping his guard up, Zhao Yi said nothing.
Before long, the procuress led a stunning young woman into the room.
"Hongling, take good care of Young Master Zhao!"
Seeing how handsome and extraordinary Zhao Yi looked, Hongling's face lit up with joy. "This maid obeys!"
After about a quarter of an hour of drinking and merriment in the private room, Zhao Yi wrapped an arm around Hongling and led her out, intending to rest in a small courtyard at the back.
Arriving at the inner courtyard, the two guards remained outside while they went in.
Once inside the bedchamber, Zhao Yi struck Hongling swiftly on the back of the neck. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed softly into his arms.
After settling Hongling comfortably, Zhao Yi slipped away quietly.
Taking a winding path, he reached the back door of Xiaoyue Pavilion, found an empty corner, and scaled the wall.
After making a large detour, Zhao Yi arrived at the safe house provided by Consort Hui.
Looking around cautiously, he pulled out a piece of cloth to cover his nose and mouth, then hopped over the courtyard wall.
It was a single-courtyard residence containing only three rooms arranged in a U-shape.
At that moment, every room was pitch black.
Zhao Yi headed to the room on the west side first.
After prying it open, he found it was a storage room piled with odds and ends.
He crouched down, dragged a finger across the floor, and observed closely. A uniform layer of dust coated the ground, showing that clearly no one had been there.
He then pried open the eastern room and discovered it was a kitchen, with nowhere to hide.
Finally, Zhao Yi cast his gaze upon the northern room.
He jimmied the front door from the main hall and stepped inside with utmost care.
Finding no dust on the floor, he understood the situation instantly.
"Come out. I know you're in here." Zhao Yi altered his vocal resonance, making his voice sound completely different from his usual tone.
When it came to the art of disguise, Zhao Yi was a true master.
After waiting for a moment, there was no movement at all.
Zhao Yi continued, "Lady Cuiyao, Consort Hui sent me."
A faint click came from the inner chamber on the left.
Moments later, the curtain was pushed aside, and a woman emerged, clutching a sword.
"Who are you?" The woman glared at Zhao Yi with extreme vigilance, her voice sounding frail and weak.
"You don't need to know who I am. In any case, Consort Hui sent me." Zhao Yi had no wish to expose his identity.
He did not know what kind of person Cuiyao was.
If she turned out to be a spy for Beiyi and discovered that the useless Prince Qing was actually a martial arts expert, he would be placed at a severe disadvantage!
The woman pointed her sword straight at Zhao Yi and demanded harshly, "Hiding your face and tail—take off that mask!"
"Lady Cuiyao, I really was sent by Consort Hui. Otherwise, how could I possibly know about this place?" Zhao Yi raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, trying to put her at ease.
To Zhao Yi's surprise, far from reassuring her, these words only provoked her murderous intent.
The woman lunged forward, thrusting her sword straight at him.
Swish, swish... swish...
Realizing the woman meant business, Zhao Yi stopped holding back.
After dodging two moves, he closed the distance in a flash, jammed his left hand against her throat, and locked her wrist with his right, twisting sharply.
Clatter. The sword slipped from the woman's grasp and hit the floor.
Taking advantage of the momentum, Zhao Yi twisted her arm behind her back, intending to subdue her.
Yet, unexpectedly, the woman flicked her left hand up, revealing a flash of cold steel as a dagger appeared, aiming straight for her own chest.
With lightning-fast reflexes, Zhao Yi reached out with his left hand and grabbed her left wrist.
With another twist, the dagger flew from her grasp.
He kicked the back of her knee, causing the woman to drop to one knee.
As he forced her left arm up behind her, a sharp hiss escaped her lips. That was when Zhao Yi remembered she had been wounded by an arrow in her upper left shoulder.
Still, in no mood for chivalry, he demanded with a puzzled frown, "Lady Cuiyao, I came here to help you. Why are you trying to kill me?"
"Spare me your act." The woman turned her head slightly. Though he couldn't see her expression, he could clearly feel the murderous rage radiating from her.
"Do as you please—kill me or carve me up, whatever you like!"
"What kind of person do you take me for?" Zhao Yi felt somewhat exasperated.
At that moment, a flurry of hurried footsteps echoed from outside.
Zhao Yi turned his head to look and saw the pale, amber glow of lanterns flickering erratically outside the courtyard gate.
Immediately afterward, a pounding came from the door: "City Guard Battalion search! Open the door at once!"