Chapter Sixty-Three: Following Him, Even Into Danger

At this moment, Feng Qiuji arrived with Ling Zetian and Ying Xuanyu. Seeing the situation before them, she was about to intervene when another man’s voice suddenly rang out.

“Who dares cause trouble here?” No sooner had these words fallen than a middle-aged man in his thirties or forties appeared—the owner of the gambling house. Immediately, several men surrounded them.

“Boss, this man tried to steal my money. I caught him, and he even tried to hit me. Aren’t you going to do something about it?” Ling Zexin shamelessly fabricated the story, for such acts were his forte.

“Oh?” The boss walked up to Li Fei, sizing him up. “Do you even know where you are? How dare you make trouble in my place? Are you looking for death?”

“I’m not here to make trouble! I didn’t steal anything!”

Then, Feng Qiuji and the others watched as Li Fei was beaten severely and thrown out of the gambling house. Without a word, they followed him out, dragged him to a secluded corner, and began interrogating him.

After much questioning, Li Fei admitted that he only knew Steward Wang, who was the chief steward of a prominent household in the capital. As for Steward Wang’s master, he had no idea about their background.

Seeing the increasingly dark expression on Ling Zetian’s face, Ling Zexin wiped the sweat from his brow, genuinely afraid the man would explode at any moment.

“Don’t be so anxious,” Feng Qiuji tried to reassure Ling Zetian, seeing his worry. “Since they’re after Anuo, they must have a purpose. If they haven’t sent a ransom note or anything yet, it means Anuo is still safe. At least, until their objective is met, they won’t harm him.”

“I’ve had drinks with Steward Wang a few times. Once, when he was drunk, he complained that a few warriors had recently arrived at the residence and were always grumbling about not being accustomed to the food here. It was quite a bother.”

“Warriors?” Feng Qiuji was startled. If she recalled correctly, “warrior” referred to a Japanese social class. Now that Li Fei mentioned warriors, could this matter be connected to Kimura Xingye?

“It’s Fusang!” Ling Zexin blurted out as soon as he heard the word, recalling how Yan Wuying had gone to Fusang to quell a rebellion, and he had accompanied him. He remembered that torrential night when Ling Zetian had nearly been cut down by a group of warriors. By the time he arrived with reinforcements, Ling Zetian was covered in wounds, Wei Long and Yu Fan were also injured in several places, and Qin Ruyan was holding Ling Zetian, weeping nonstop. If he hadn’t arrived in time, the four of them would have been captured by Fusang.

Ever since that campaign, Fusang had bowed to the Ling Dynasty and never again caused border turmoil. In recent years, they sent tribute every year. Not long ago, Princes Kimura Xingye and Kimura Xinghen of Fusang had even visited the Ling Dynasty. Why would they suddenly kidnap Ling Shunuo? Could something have happened in Fusang?

Yet above all, what Ling Zetian most wanted to know was how Anuo’s identity had been exposed.

All these years, he had carefully concealed Anuo’s true background. Only Wei Long, Yu Fan, Feng Qiuji, and Qin Ruyan knew that Anuo was not his biological son. Even Ying Xuanyu and Ling Zexin were unaware of Anuo’s origins. He had never made Anuo’s existence public, and outsiders could not possibly know about him—so how did the people of Fusang learn of it?

Under Li Fei’s guidance, Ling Zetian and his party arrived at a secluded spot in the western part of the city. Few people usually came here, yet there stood an imposing mansion. The vermilion-painted gates were tightly shut, and there were no guards at the entrance; it looked like an abandoned house. But the fresh coat of paint indicated that it was indeed inhabited.

After sending Li Fei away, Ling Zetian intended to go in and investigate. Of the four present, only he possessed martial skills, so he instructed Ling Zexin, Ying Xuanyu, and Feng Qiuji to stay put while he entered alone.

Here, right under the emperor’s nose, the people of Fusang were secretly conducting illicit business, and he, as emperor, had never heard a word of it—not a single minister had ever reported it. Who had authorized such a grand house to be built? He vowed to get to the bottom of all these questions once Anuo was found.

After scaling the wall, Ling Zetian discovered the mansion was nearly deserted, with scarcely a soul in sight. He leaped from rooftop to rooftop, searching for clues, and was about to leave when he spotted several men moving goods out of a building. A steward-like figure stood nearby, barking orders, “Hurry! Hurry! If you miss the time to board, there’ll be trouble.”

Hearing this, a sense of foreboding washed over Ling Zetian, and he hastily left the mansion. The moment Feng Qiuji and the others saw him emerge, they rushed forward, eager to hear what he had discovered.

“This isn’t the time for explanations. We need to get to the docks—now!” Without further ado, Ling Zetian sped off toward the docks.

Travel between Fusang and the Ling Dynasty was mostly conducted by land. However, there was a stretch of water between their borders that offered the shortest route. Yet this waterway had a notorious history—ancient chronicles recounted rampant pirates and frequent storms and tsunamis. Nearly every ship that entered these waters vanished without a trace, never to return. Thus, both governments had decreed the waterway off-limits; henceforth, all travel was to be overland, and few dared take the sea route.

Upon hearing that man urge them not to miss the boarding time, Ling Zetian’s heart sank. He knew these people planned to take the water route back to Fusang. Land travel was too slow, and with a single imperial edict, every official along the route would be alerted to stop them. The sea was their only and best option.

If Anuo had indeed been taken, they meant to ship him to Fusang as a hostage. If Anuo truly reached Fusang, the situation would be dire. Ling Zetian would have no justification to dispatch troops against Fusang, as he could not reveal Anuo’s identity to the world. His only recourse would be to send men covertly to rescue him. But to infiltrate another country and save someone, relying on nothing but the imperial guards, was nearly impossible. In that case, Anuo would become a bargaining chip for Fusang to coerce the Ling Dynasty—this was the true aim behind his abduction.

Their only course now was to hurry to the docks and seize Anuo before he was spirited away.

“Xin, go outside the city and bring Yu Fan, Wei Long, and the imperial guards. And hurry!” Ling Zetian feared the enemy was numerous, while they were only four, with himself the only fighter. If a fight broke out at the docks, they would be outmatched. They needed backup from the imperial guards stationed outside the city, and at this point, he cared little if the townsfolk saw them. The urgent matter was to get Anuo back; if he reached Fusang, it would be too late.

Turning to Feng Qiuji, who still followed him, Ling Zetian ordered, “Xiaoyu, take Feng Qiuji to your house in the capital.”

“What?” Feng Qiuji nearly jumped up when Ling Zetian forbade her from joining the rescue.

“He’s right,” Ying Xuanyu chimed in. “Neither of us knows martial arts, and we’d only be a burden. If we went along, Aye would have to worry about us. Better to let him go alone.”

“No,” Feng Qiuji said firmly. “I am Anuo’s mother. Now that he’s been taken, it’s my duty to save him. I’m going with Ling Zetian.”

“This is an imperial decree!” Ling Zetian, seeing she was about to make another rash decision, had no time to argue. He invoked the authority of the emperor: “If you refuse, you are disobeying an imperial order.”

“I’ve disobeyed imperial orders before,” Feng Qiuji replied, unmoved. “This time, I’ll do it again. I have to go with you.” She simply could not wait at Ying Xuanyu’s home with her heart in turmoil, worrying about Ling Zetian. She would rather face danger by his side.

“Absurd! Xiaoyu, take her away!” Ling Zetian shot her a glare. With no time for further argument, he gathered his internal strength and sped toward the docks, practicing lightness skills at full speed.

Ying Xuanyu watched Ling Zetian’s retreating form and took Feng Qiuji by the arm. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“Let go of me.” Feng Qiuji glanced back at him, shook off his hand, and without another word, chased after Ling Zetian.

Ying Xuanyu stared at his empty hand, a surge of bitterness rising within. He felt like a fool.

Feng Qiuji still went after Ling Zetian. Even in the face of danger, she would rather follow him.

Only now did he realize how ridiculous he was. With a helpless smile and a shake of his head, he thought—things that don’t belong to you will leave, no matter how you try to keep them, let alone a living, breathing person.

“Where is Aye?” As he brooded, another voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Qin Ruyan, breathless and anxious.

“He’s gone to the docks.” The words had barely left his lips before Qin Ruyan shot off like an arrow.

After settling matters at home, Qin Ruyan had set out to find Ling Zetian. On the street, she had run into Ling Zexin, who told her where Ling Zetian had gone. Without hesitation, she chased after him.

Watching her departing figure, Ying Xuanyu gave a wry, helpless smile. He was not much inferior to Ling Zetian, yet never had a woman cared for him so deeply—willing to dash into danger without a second thought.

And not just one, but two.

In that instant, he was a little envious of Ling Zetian.

———Author’s Note———
The setting sun is making me so sleepy, so very sleepy, zzzzz...