Chapter 241 – He’s So Devious

The Sixth Prince of the Tang Empire summoned Lin Jing, and he had no choice but to comply.

Though he had long despised the nobility for their lavish attire and hypocritical façades, the chasm between their statuses forced him to kneel and obey. Only one person had ever seen him as more than a tool—trusted him, helped him, saved him. For her alone, Lin Jing had words to spare; with the rest of the world, silence was enough.

He placed two copper coins beneath his teacup and, with a blank expression, strode forward. With a swift motion, he lifted his robe and dropped to one knee.

"Your humble servant greets His Highness, the Sixth Prince."

His voice rang out deliberately loud, enough to rouse the dozing tea vendor, who cracked an eye open and peered toward them. At the nearby roasted melon seed stall, the vendor froze behind his sizzling wok. Once he recovered from the shock, he instinctively scooped two heaping spoonfuls of seeds into the small dish before Li Can, scattering some over his sleeve in the process.

Li Can flicked his sleeve with disdain, shaking the seeds off as he rose to his feet, eyes narrowing at Lin Jing.

"You did that on purpose."

He spoke with layered meaning—Lin Jing had made sure the secret agents saw him, made sure the entire street knew the Sixth Prince was here.

Feigning ignorance, Lin Jing said, "Your servant does not understand what His Highness means."

"I offered to help you," Li Can said, opening a parasol with an elegant snap and shielding himself from the sun. "Did you know the Yan Estate has a canal that connects to the Eastern Market's pond?"

Lin Jing's pupils contracted. "I know. There's a guard stationed by the canal outside the wall."

"They can't hold him," Li Can scoffed, his expression as capricious as April weather—sunny one moment, stormy the next. "Yan Congzheng can hold his breath underwater. You let him escape."

Lin Jing sprang up and hurried toward the Yan Estate. At the gate, he flashed his waist token, and the guards stepped aside. Some were from the Ministry of War, others were Lin Jing's own men. The latter had no reason to stop him, and the former recognized the token—after all, Ye Jiao had secured him a post there.

Lin Jing advanced swiftly. Behind him, Li Can followed at a leisurely pace.

At the entrance, as expected, the Ministry of War's men barred his path.

"Your Highness, please halt. Lord Yan is still recovering. No unauthorized visitors allowed."

Li Can paused, lazily pointing at Lin Jing's receding figure.

"He isn't unauthorized?"

"He's with the Ministry—"

After the Wei Prince's rebellion was ruled upon, security around Yan Congzheng had briefly loosened, only to return even tighter than before. Clearly, it wasn't just Ye Jiao—others feared he might do something reckless.

Li Can cut the man off.

"You let him in and bar me? I might just seek out your superior, Lord Jiang, for an explanation. Or perhaps I'll submit a memorial myself—ask the court why the residence of a state official has been commandeered by your Ministry."

He often smiled, that mild face like a breeze and spring rain, yet beneath it lay an unsettling, elusive danger.

The guards hesitated but eventually stepped aside.

"Your Highness, please be quick."

Li Can smiled faintly and stepped in.

"I'm afraid I don't do 'quick.'"

He strolled through the disheveled courtyard, sidestepping overturned furniture, leaping across muddy patches where tiles had been pulled up, checking his reflection in a cracked mirror, and ducking under a torn spiderweb.

When he reached the East Wing, he found Lin Jing already at the door, looking at him with evident frustration.

"Your Highness deceived me," Lin Jing said. "Lord Yan is lying peacefully inside."

Now that Yan Congzheng had been granted a civil title, he was to be called "Lord," not "General."

"Is that so?" Li Can tilted his head toward the half-open door and called out loudly, "Lord Yan, are you well? I've come to check on you."

Inside, there was the sound of labored breathing and rustling movement.

"Your humble criminal servant greets His Highness."

"No, no, none of that," Li Can strode inside and helped Yan Congzheng, who was struggling to rise. "Why are you still this unwell?"

A mere touch told Li Can that Yan Congzheng's meridians were damaged—just as the Emperor had said, he would never again draw a bow or lift a blade.

What a pity.

Pale and hollow-eyed, Yan Congzheng's condition had worsened with blood loss and infection. Every word he spoke seemed to drain him. Once a vigorous man, he now resembled a tattered lantern—his flickering inner fire long since extinguished, leaving only despair.

"I brought a ginseng root from Changbai Mountain," Li Can said, placing a cloth pouch beside the bed. "But the guards wouldn't let me in, so I lied to Lin Jing, told him you'd gone out. Don't take it personally."

"I won't," Yan Congzheng muttered, vacant. "Please ask His Majesty to rescind the appointment to Yun Prefecture. I, the criminal, am unworthy of any post. My father's crimes are too great."

"That's where you're wrong," Li Can frowned. "His Majesty rewards merit and punishes wrongdoing fairly. You risked your life to defend the palace—of course you should be rewarded. To refuse the post would make His Majesty seem ungracious."

"I—" Yan Congzheng tried to speak but couldn't draw breath. His face flushed red, veins bulging at his temple. He choked and clawed at his throat, on the verge of suffocation.

"Lin Jing! Hurry!" Li Can shouted. "If he dies now, they'll say I killed him!"

Lin Jing rushed in, helped Yan Congzheng regulate his breath, and quickly retrieved a porcelain vial from his sleeve. He slipped a pill into the man's mouth.

"His tongue is blocking his airway," he said.

After much effort, Yan Congzheng's breathing stabilized. Lin Jing laid him down again, expression dark.

"Lord Yan cannot be disturbed further."

It was a clear gesture for Li Can to take his leave.

"Just one last question," Li Can said. "Lord Yan, can you hold your breath underwater?"

With the pill still under his tongue, Yan Congzheng could not speak. He simply gave a weak nod.

"See?" Li Can turned to Lin Jing, feigning innocence. "I didn't lie to you, did I?"

Without a word, Lin Jing turned and walked off, his pace as swift as ever.

In the courtyard, Li Can called after him, "There's a spiderweb above your head."

Lin Jing swatted vaguely at the air.

"There's a spider crawling into your collar."

This time, Lin Jing didn't even flinch. He vanished through the courtyard gate, avoiding Li Can as if he were plague.

Li Can followed at a slow pace, twirling his parasol.

"It really did go down his neck," he murmured. "Terrifying."

As he left the estate, he glanced back.

The servant Ye Jiao had sent to care for Yan Congzheng stood trembling in the courtyard, baffled. He probably believed the Sixth Prince had come out of kindness, bearing ginseng.

In truth, Li Can had come to assess Yan Congzheng's condition.

"Not great," he said half an hour later, shaking his head in the Crown Prince's study. "The fact that he's breathing is miracle enough. As for breaking into a prison? Impossible."

"But Li Beichen is his nephew," Fu Mingzhu said from beneath the cloak Li Can had tossed over his head.

"Are you hinting at something?" Li Can frowned. "He's my nephew too. Am I breaking him out?"

"That's different," Fu Mingzhu shot back. "Does Your Highness even know how old he is?"

Even blood ties require time and familiarity to grow into affection.

"Six or seven?" Li Can rubbed his forehead and adjusted his cushions. Still not high enough. He grabbed two more from behind Fu Mingzhu and made himself comfortable.

"Old enough to remember things," he said lazily.

He only knew the boy's approximate age. As for anything else… not a clue.