Chapter 051: What Crime Is There?

A young wanderer dressed in plain white silk robes hurried into the Yang household, entering the private chambers of Yang Miaor and leaning close to Wei Yingwu’s ear to whisper a few words. Wei Yingwu listened, nodded slightly, and waved his hand, signaling the young wanderer to leave.

Wei Yingwu glanced sideways, raised his cup of wine, and brought it to Yang Miaor’s lips, grinning shamelessly. “Have another cup!”

“No more,” Yang Miaor’s face was faintly flushed, her gaze hazy, as she pushed his hand away and gently touched her forehead. “I’m already dizzy and feverish; I’m drunk.”

Wei Yingwu laughed heartily, pulled the cup back, and drained it in one gulp. The wine warmed his belly, but a sense of melancholy rose in his heart.

The Wang father and son had gone to Wan’an Temple to trouble Wang Xun, and now they had come to Bodhi Monastery to seek out Li Zaixing. Although Li Zaixing hadn’t been forcibly taken, he had been escorted by guards of the Left Jinwu Guard, and the situation looked grim.

Wei Yingwu was hesitating—should he step forward and oppose the Wang father and son? He knew well that Wang Xun was a true gentleman, and although his mother, Princess Yongmu, was the emperor’s eldest daughter, she was not one to vie for power. Li Zaixing, despite his ferocity, was a commoner. No matter his martial prowess, how many could he slay? Could he possibly break out from the encirclement of nearly a hundred guards?

Only Wei Yingwu himself could stand against the Wang father and son. Without him, Li Zaixing would surely die.

Wei Yingwu did not fear Wang Zhun, but he could not disregard Wang Gong, nor could he ignore the question of whether it was worth the risk. Struggles among the great families often pulled in many others, and the conflict between himself and Wang Zhun could easily become just such a tangle. These past days, he had stayed away from home precisely to avoid implicating his family.

Deep within, he also harbored a longing to accomplish something significant.

Yet his original intent was merely to deal with Wang Zhun, but with Wang Gong stepping in personally, flanked by over a hundred guards, it was no longer something he and his handful of wanderers could contend with.

Wei Yingwu weighed his options again and again, caught in indecision.

...

Li Linfu stood in the pavilion of his rear garden, gazing at the brightly lit gate of Wan’an Temple in the distance, silent and contemplative.

Wang Gong had suddenly arrived at Wan’an Temple with troops, so abruptly that he hadn’t even sent word ahead. This surprised Li Linfu greatly. He didn’t send anyone to inquire; he knew Wang Gong was simmering with anger these days. Over the disappearance of Princess Chongniang, Wang Gong was near madness. But for now, Li Linfu had no intention of aiding Wang Gong—he had his own troubles.

The folding screen in the Moon Hall had been changed, yet that awkward line of poetry was etched deep in his memory. The uninvited guests at his daughter Li Tengkong’s temple unsettled him; that someone could come and go freely in his own house was deeply disturbing.

Ten years to hone a single sword—who could it be?

The identity of the creditor mattered little. After years as prime minister, Li Linfu knew he had made many enemies. Rather than expending effort to uncover who it was, it was better to devote himself to eliminating the threat. The present situation was just such an opportunity: Wang Gong was exposed, while he remained in the shadows. As the enemy moved against Wang Gong, he could observe from the side and wait for the right moment to act.

In truth, regardless of the creditor’s identity, Li Linfu had one true rival. If he could defeat this adversary, all others would be of no consequence. Time was running out—he needed to seize every fleeting opportunity to cast his opponent into utter ruin, or endless trouble would follow.

Just now, guards had gone to Bodhi Monastery—this both excited and unsettled him. It was thrilling that the man lived at Bodhi Monastery, yet nerve-wracking for the same reason. To deal with him, Bodhi Monastery was certainly a good place, but unless he was confident of success, why would the other man dare show his face there?

Li Linfu turned and looked at his eldest son, Li Xiu. “Let us go to the West Courtyard.”

Li Xiu bowed and obeyed.

...

Li Zaixing and Nan Jiyun walked side by side, flanked by tall courtyard walls. This was the main road through Cross Street, about ten paces wide. Yet with guards lining both sides, the street felt much narrower.

From Bodhi Monastery to the gate of Wan’an Temple was nearly three hundred steps—not too short, not long either, but enough for Li Zaixing to form an impression of Nan Jiyun and his guards.

“I’ve heard Brother Nan is unmatched in horsemanship and archery—the rumors do you justice.”

Nan Jiyun wasn’t accustomed to Li Zaixing’s outgoing nature, but he knew Li Zaixing was a friend of Xie Guanglong; both were wanderers, so a bit of unruliness was to be expected.

“Brother Li flatters me.”

“No, I speak the truth. Brother Nan, your broad shoulders and long arms—even when you walk, your shoulders hardly sway, your left one habitually inclined forward. That’s the mark of years of riding and archery training.” Li Zaixing smiled. “It’s a pity, though—no matter how skilled your horsemanship and archery, there’s little use for it in the capital. Why not go to the frontier to earn glory? Or are you, like Master Xie, lacking the means for the journey?”

Nan Jiyun smiled. “Guarding the capital is also service to the nation—why must one go to the borderlands?”

Li Zaixing laughed, saying no more.

The guards found it odd. Even if Li Zaixing had done nothing wrong, he should not be so at ease. Ordinary folk, on seeing guards, were like mice before cats. Yet Li Zaixing was not only unafraid, he joked with Nan Jiyun and even commented on his skills—a man as bold as this must be desperate, a man with nothing to lose. Best to be cautious around such a one, lest they lose their lives for nothing.

Unconsciously, the guards drifted away from Li Zaixing.

...

In the main hall of Wan’an Temple, Wang Gong sat on the couch, his face dark with rage. He was not kneeling properly, nor even sitting cross-legged, but with one leg drawn up and the other hanging down—a posture unspeakably rude, far beneath the dignity of a man of his rank, and least of all in the presence of Princess Yongmu.

But Wang Gong did just that, and the hostess, Princess Yongmu, dared not utter a word of protest, nor even show the faintest hint of displeasure. She knelt to one side, head bowed, hands tightly clasped in her sleeves, filled with humiliation and helplessness.

Wang Xun and his wife, Lady Li, stood behind Princess Yongmu; before Wang Gong, they were not even qualified to sit.

Wang Gong’s wrath had frightened them out of their wits. They could not fathom why he cared so much for that little Hu girl, coming in the dead of night to question them. Even when they explained with utmost humility, Wang Gong’s anger did not abate, instead brewing an ominous tension.

Wang Zhun sat on the other side, his injuries yet unhealed, but in high spirits. He eyed the family of Princess Yongmu as a predator eyes prey, his gaze shifting from Wang Xun’s pale face to Lady Li’s livid but beautiful features, utterly unrestrained. Nor did he need restraint—Wang Xun’s dealings with Li Zaixing had doomed him. Why fear a man already at death’s door?

Princess Yongmu was old and unremarkable, but Lady Li was young, beautiful, and possessed an imperial bearing. Compared to the timid princess, she was like a blooming rose with thorns—her allure stirred Wang Zhun’s heart with restless desire.

A woman of noble birth, now in dire straits—if Wang Xun were killed, perhaps she could be seized as a servant.

Wang Zhun stroked his chin, ogling Lady Li lustfully, plotting to himself. This would be easy enough: as long as he insisted that the Hu girl Li Zaixing brought was Princess Chongniang, and implicated Wang Xun and his mother, their doom was certain. By then, the fate of this beauty would be decided by a single word from father and son.

Lady Li felt Wang Zhun’s brazen gaze, and was overwhelmed with shame, anger, sorrow, and despair. She knew her predicament well. Her husband and mother-in-law were weak; their fear of Wang Gong was longstanding, and now faced with such trouble, resistance was a hopeless fantasy. As a woman, to confront Wang Zhun would only bring humiliation. In this moment, she even felt an urge to dash her head against the wall—perhaps death would be preferable to further disgrace.

As Lady Li suffered, a commotion of footsteps sounded outside. Li Zaixing entered with measured steps.

He was surrounded before and behind by guards, all fully armed, weapons in hand. Yet there was no fear on his face, and the guards, contrary to their usual severity, appeared solemn rather than overbearing. They said nothing, but their silence was not that of official intimidation, but a quiet gravity.

It was as if they were not escorting a prisoner, but protecting an important guest.

Lady Li sensed the difference and involuntarily looked up. She studied Li Zaixing’s face, her eyes widening in surprise; she bit her lip, then, realizing herself, quickly lowered her gaze.

Wang Zhun, seeing Lady Li’s reaction, followed her gaze to Li Zaixing and flew into a rage. He sprang to his feet and shouted fiercely, “How is it you haven’t bound the prisoner?!”

Nan Jiyun was about to speak, but Li Zaixing laughed lightly. “Thirteenth Lord, I am no prisoner—merely here to assist with your investigation.”

“You’re not a prisoner?” Wang Zhun sneered, swaggering up to Li Zaixing. “You entered Qinren Lane without permission, abducted a royal princess, and colluded with the imperial clan—crimes beyond pardon. If you are not a prisoner, who is?”

Li Zaixing frowned, his calm gaze passing over Wang Zhun’s smug face and settling on Wang Gong’s ashen countenance. He cupped his hands in salute. “Lord Wang, is this truly so?”

A flicker of surprise flashed in Wang Gong’s eyes, quickly replaced by anger. Li Zaixing’s disregard for his son was a slight against himself, and now, before him, Li Zaixing not only showed no fear, but questioned him with composure—a challenge he could not tolerate.

Even noble Princess Yongmu was humble before him—how dared a commoner behave so?

Wang Gong snorted. “Still you refuse to confess—what are you waiting for?”

Li Zaixing’s expression darkened. Hands clasped behind his back, he stood tall. “May I ask, Lord Wang, what crime have I committed?”

Wang Gong hesitated, then bellowed with rage, slamming the table. “Men! Seize this insolent wretch and give him twenty blows to the face. Let him learn how to address me!”

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