Chapter Sixty-Four: Captured

At this moment, Feng Qiuji also arrived with Ling Zetian and Ying Xuanyu. Seeing the scene before them, she was about to step in and intervene, but suddenly recalled the voice of another man.

“Who dares cause trouble here?” As soon as the words fell, a man in his thirties or forties appeared—it was the owner of the gambling house. Several men immediately gathered around.

“Boss, this man tried to steal my money, and when I caught him, he tried to attack me. Aren’t you going to do something?” Ling Zexin shamelessly spun his tale, as if deception were his forte.

“Oh?” The boss walked up to Li Fei and gave him a scrutinizing look. “Do you even realize where you are? You dare stir up trouble in my establishment? Are you courting death?”

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

What followed was the sight of Li Fei being mercilessly beaten and then thrown out of the gambling house. Without a word, the group followed him out, dragged him into a secluded corner, and began their interrogation.

Yet, after much questioning, all Li Fei could say was that he only knew Steward Wang, who served as chief steward to a powerful household in the capital. As for the identity of Steward Wang’s master, he had no idea.

Seeing the growing darkness on Ling Zetian’s face, Ling Zexin wiped the sweat from his brow, worried he might suddenly explode.

“Don’t be so anxious,” Feng Qiuji tried to comfort him, seeing his concern. “If they’ve taken Anuo, they must have a reason. Since no ransom note or such demands have appeared, it means Anuo is still safe—for now, at least until their objective is achieved, they won’t harm him.”

“I did have drinks with Steward Wang a few times,” Li Fei added. “Once, when he was drunk, he complained that some warriors had recently arrived at the manor. They kept grumbling about not being able to stomach the local food—made life troublesome for him.”

“Warriors?” Feng Qiuji exclaimed in surprise. If she remembered correctly, ‘warrior’ was a class from Japan. Now that Li Fei mentioned it, could this matter be connected to Kimura Xingye?

“It’s Fusang!” Ling Zexin blurted out at the mention of warriors. He remembered, from the time Yan Wuying had gone to Fusang to suppress a rebellion, that he too had gone along. He recalled that torrential night when Ling Zetian had nearly been killed by those warriors. When he finally arrived with reinforcements, Ling Zetian was badly wounded, as were Weilong and Yufan in several places. Qin Ruyan had been cradling Ling Zetian in tears. If he hadn’t arrived in time, the four of them would have been taken captive in Fusang.

After that battle, Fusang bowed in submission to Ling Dynasty, and border unrest ceased. In recent years, Fusang had sent tribute every year. Not long ago, princes Kimura Xingye and Kimura Xinghen from Fusang had visited the Ling Dynasty. Why, then, had they suddenly abducted Ling Shunuo? Had something happened in Fusang?

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

For years, he had gone to great lengths to keep Anuo’s true identity hidden. Only Weilong, Yufan, Feng Qiuji, and Qin Ruyan knew that Anuo was not his biological son. Even Ying Xuanyu and Ling Zexin had no idea where Anuo had come from—his existence was never made public, so outsiders could not possibly know. How, then, did people from Fusang find out?

Led by Li Fei, Ling Zetian and his companions arrived at a secluded spot in the western part of the city. Few people came here, but a grand mansion stood with vermilion-painted gates tightly shut. No guards stood at the entrance, making it appear deserted, but the fresh paint betrayed signs of habitation.

After sending Li Fei away, Ling Zetian decided to investigate. Of the four of them, only he knew martial arts, so he instructed Ling Zexin, Ying Xuanyu, and Feng Qiuji to wait outside while he went in alone.

This was the capital, beneath the very feet of the emperor. For Fusang to conduct illicit dealings here in secret—and for him, the emperor, to know nothing, nor any official to report it—was staggering. Who had authorized such a large mansion? These were questions he vowed to investigate, once Anuo was safely recovered.

Vaulting the wall, Ling Zetian found the mansion indeed deserted, with scarcely a soul in sight. He moved from rooftop to rooftop, searching for clues, intent on leaving if he found nothing. Just as he was about to depart, he spotted several men hauling goods from the house. A steward-like figure stood beside them, barking orders: “Quickly, quickly! Don’t miss the time for boarding the ship!”

On hearing this, a grave sense of foreboding seized Ling Zetian, and he hurriedly left the mansion. Outside, Feng Qiuji and the others rushed to meet him, eager for news.

“There’s no time to explain—hurry, to the docks!” Ling Zetian urged, racing off at once.

Travel between Fusang and the Ling Dynasty was primarily by land. Yet a waterway separated the two borders—a route that, though shortest, was notorious since ancient times. Chronicles spoke of rampant pirates, frequent storms, and tsunamis. No ship that entered those waters ever returned; all vanished without a trace. Thus, the two governments had jointly sealed off the waterway, decreeing that only land routes be used from then on, and few dared travel the forbidden waters.

Hearing those words about missing the ship, Ling Zetian’s heart froze. He knew: they planned to take the waterway back to Fusang. Overland travel was too slow, and a single imperial order would have every official intercepting them wherever they went. Their only—and best—option was the waterway.

If Anuo had truly been taken, their likely plan was to transport him to Fusang as a hostage. If Anuo were spirited away to Fusang, things would become dire. He could not, after all, send troops to attack Fusang, for he could never reveal Anuo’s true identity to the world. He would have to send men in secret, but to rescue someone from foreign soil with only a squad of imperial guards was near impossible. Anuo would become Fusang’s leverage against the Ling Dynasty—the true motive behind his abduction.

Their task now was to reach the docks in time, and snatch Anuo back before he was taken away.

“Xin, go outside the city and bring Yufan, Weilong, and the Imperial Guards to us—quickly,” Ling Zetian ordered, concerned that the enemy might have overwhelming numbers. With only four of them, and only himself skilled in martial arts, they would be no match in a fight. He could not worry about being seen by the people of the city; the urgent matter was to retrieve Anuo. If Anuo were taken to Fusang, it would be too late.

He looked back at Feng Qiuji, who was still following him, and gave another order. “Xiao Yuzi, take Feng Qiuji to your family residence in the capital now.”

“What?” Feng Qiuji nearly leaped up when she heard that Ling Zetian wasn’t allowing her to join the rescue.

“He’s right,” Ying Xuanyu chimed in. “Neither of us can fight, and we’d only be a burden. If we go along, Aye would have to look after us and be distracted. It’s better to let him go alone.”

“No,” Feng Qiuji replied firmly. “I am Anuo’s mother. Now that he’s been taken, it is my duty to rescue him. I must go with Ling Zetian.”

“That’s an imperial order!” Ling Zetian, seeing she was about to act rashly again, had no time for argument and invoked his authority. “If you refuse, you defy the emperor’s command.”

“Oh, come on. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve defied an imperial order. In any case, I’m going with you this time,” Feng Qiuji retorted. She simply couldn’t rest easy letting Ling Zetian go alone. Though she lacked martial skill, she’d rather face danger at his side than wait anxiously at Ying Xuanyu’s home.

“Enough nonsense. Xiao Yuzi, take her away!” Ling Zetian shot her a glare, then, not bothering to say more, summoned his inner strength and sped toward the docks with all his might.

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

“Let go of me.” Feng Qiuji turned to look at him, shook off his hand, and without looking back, gave chase after Ling Zetian.

Ying Xuanyu stared down at his now empty hand, a wave of sourness welling up inside him. At that moment, he felt like a fool.

Feng Qiuji had chosen to follow Ling Zetian after all. Danger or no, she would rather be with him.

With a self-mocking, helpless smile, he shook his head. In this world, things that aren’t truly yours will slip away no matter how hard you try to hold on—how much more so a living, breathing person.

“Where’s Aye?” Just as he was lost in his thoughts, another voice sounded at his side. Turning, he saw Qin Ruyan, breathless and full of anxious inquiry.

“He’s gone to the docks.” No sooner had he spoken than Qin Ruyan shot off like an arrow.

After settling affairs at home, Qin Ruyan had set out to find Ling Zetian, only to run into Ling Zexin in the street. He told her Ling Zetian had gone to the docks, so she hurried after him.

Watching her retreating figure, Ying Xuanyu gave a wry, helpless smile. He was, in truth, not much inferior to Ling Zetian. Yet no woman had ever treated him that way—rushing headlong into danger, without hesitation or second thought, just to follow him.

And now, not just one, but two.

At that moment, he felt a twinge of envy toward Ling Zetian.

—— End of chapter notes ——
Another late update today...