Chapter 246: The Awakening of a Father’s Love

Having served as deputy commander of the Forbidden Army for so long, he had never ceased to devise plans for himself. There was only one path leading to the dungeon, but numerous windows. The death row prisoners were confined underground, yet above the ground level, small ventilation windows allowed fresh air to circulate. The windows were too narrow for an adult to escape through, but a child could slip out. Each time the Forbidden Army escorted prisoners past the dungeon, Yan Congzheng would walk by these windows. Sometimes, when he was alone, he could take action.

It was likely since Bai Fanxi had advised him that effort was less valuable than knowing when to act, that he began preparing for this moment. So tonight, from a carefully chosen vantage point, he scaled the courtyard wall and located the window. With a dagger, he gently pried loose the four sides of the window frame and quietly removed the windowpane.

The night was utterly silent. He heard the cautious rhythm of his own breath, the faint sound of dirt falling into the dungeon below. A child who had just fallen asleep murmured nonsense in his dream, then wiped the tears from his face and awoke. Yan Congzheng recognized the voice—it was unmistakably him. He had arranged for Li Beichen to be imprisoned here, and the promise had been kept. He waited silently for a long time.

The prison was still, except for the occasional snore or the sound of someone shooing rats crawling over their feet in a dream. Yan Congzheng's gaze gradually pierced through the window, descending bit by bit, until it met a pair of clear, steady eyes.

Li Beichen sat on the bed, tightly covering his mouth, staring incredulously at the head peering in from outside.

"Uncle…" His voice caught in his throat, tears flooded out as he stood, overwhelmed by a mix of grievance and joy, yet unable to speak.

Yan Congzheng extended his hand, silently urging: "Come."

Come—leave this place, even if it means becoming fugitives, hiding in shadows, and struggling to survive. He would fulfill his promise to raise him.

Li Beichen was small in stature, but if he stood on the bed and raised his arm, he could reach Yan Congzheng's hand. He stared blankly at his uncle, climbed onto the bed, reached out, then withdrew his hand slowly, shaking his head. His crying intensified, silent but tears streaming relentlessly, blurring his vision.

He glanced at his father inside the cell, conveying that he could not abandon him and escape alone. Then he looked toward the distant guards, expressing fear of discovery, of bringing trouble to his uncle and the wardens.

His hesitation irritated Yan Congzheng. Choking back his frustration, he commanded again, "Come!"

This time, his voice rang out. From afar came the harsh sound of guards rising.

"Who's there?" a guard barked, approaching swiftly.

"Go, quickly!" Yan Congzheng bent lower, but his broad shoulders were stuck in the narrow window. He stretched out desperately when suddenly, a hand grabbed him from behind.

Instinctively, Yan Congzheng spun and thrust his dagger fiercely. The strike forced the attacker back. He vaulted up, ready to fight with all his might—but his body froze.

In the moonlight stood a figure: tall, slender, draped in dark robes like ink. His hair was tied high, face shrouded in shadow, revealing only a pair of sharp, cold eyes. This man's gaze was always distant, even hostile toward Yan Congzheng. Yet tonight, there was a flicker of concern.

Li Ce.

Yan Congzheng felt as if struck by lightning, his body trembling. Why was he here? Had Lin Jing warned him that Yan had fled? Was he here to stop the prison break?

"Go now!" Yan Congzheng whispered.

Li Ce said nothing, only reached out a hand—mirroring Yan's gesture to Li Beichen—with care and worry. "Go."

"I want to—" Yan Congzheng began.

"You want to save Li Beichen, I know," Li Ce interrupted. "Trust me, you're not the only one who wants to save him today."

Suspicion crept over Yan Congzheng's face. He stepped forward, shaking his head. "This isn't your concern. Neither Ye Jiao's. It's my burden alone." His voice bore the anxiety of not wanting to implicate others and the stubborn irritation that came from facing his beloved's husband.

Li Ce grasped Yan Congzheng's wrist. Though his body was frail, his grip bore an irresistible strength, compelling Yan Congzheng to take a step forward.

"Since they fired rockets into the Yan estate," Li Ce said, "this ceased to be your affair alone." The Emperor knew Ye Jiao's allies were watching the Yan estate. If Yan fled, it would inevitably implicate the Chu royal household.

"Breaking prisoners out is a graver crime!" Yan Congzheng protested urgently.

Li Ce pulled him into the shadow beneath a towering wall, his voice cold: "Then let someone else commit the greater crime."

"But—" Yan Congzheng hesitated. Suddenly, a deafening explosion rocked the ground. Dust billowed from the dungeon far away, and when it cleared, flames flickered from a breach.

Chaos erupted inside and outside the dungeon.

"The wall's collapsed! The wall's collapsed!"

"The water's flooding in! The water's flooding in!"

"Someone's escaped! Capture them!"

Guards and wardens scrambled in disarray. Indeed, someone fled through the broken gap.

"What's happening?" Yan Congzheng turned to Li Ce, stunned.

"Go!" Li Ce strode ahead. Yan Congzheng hesitated briefly, then followed.

Amidst the distant uproar, Li Ce navigated a silent path, as if someone cleared the way for them. Yan Congzheng's heart stirred. He had snuck in covertly, yet Li Ce could openly lead him out. Since when had this unassuming Chu prince brought the Ministry of Justice under his command?

They reached the outer gate and found refuge, just as the sounds of galloping hooves converged upon the main street. Torches blazed as voices shouted, "The Ministry of Justice commands: Capture the prisoners! Kill all resistors on sight!"

Some rushed from the dungeon to report, "The Wei King fled, Li Beichen is missing!"

"Who staged the prison break?" the soldiers aiding the chase demanded.

From afar, Yan Congzheng heard his own name.

"That earlier accusation was a setup, but now you're the prison-breaker," Li Ce said. He instructed Yan Congzheng, "Cover your face. There are horses beyond the north courtyard wall. Find Li Beichen. They will pursue you. Head for Qujiang Pond. The rest is fate."

"Qujiang Pond?" Yan Congzheng questioned.

"Ye Jiao is there," Li Ce replied. "If you trust her, go there."

He coughed softly, a faint, detached smile playing on his lips. "I'm off for a drink. No company, I'm afraid."

The dungeon doors burst open. Hundreds of prisoners surged out, choosing desperate resistance over certain death. The clamor echoed down half a street.

Somewhere slightly calmer, the prime minister's son, Fu Mingzhu, tilted his head back to swallow a gulp of water. His throat was parched and hoarse, forcing him to drink repeatedly to speak.

"Did Yan Congzheng succeed?" he asked, wiping moisture from his lips.

"He's mixed in with the crowd," a subordinate replied. "Our men deliberately held back, not pursuing too closely. As long as he's not blind, he'll find him."

The subordinate, around thirty, had a square face and wore the Ministry of Justice's prison guard uniform, a loose fit on him. He spoke with his head lowered, seeming to avoid scrutiny.

"Not an easy feat," Fu Mingzhu sighed. "We set the fire to give him a chance to flee. He slipped into the dungeon but didn't get the prisoner. That man was right—we'll need to blow a hole to help him."

"Who is this man?" the subordinate frowned.

Fu Mingzhu clapped the man's shoulder and led him outside. "The Sixth Prince. He recommended you, said you're a remnant of the Lu family hidden in the Ministry of War. You'll be useful."

The subordinate's face hardened, halting. "Young Master Fu…"

Fu Mingzhu met his gaze calmly. "We used gunpowder, so we owe the Emperor an explanation. Yan Congzheng didn't have gunpowder. If the Emperor investigates, he'll know you assisted the explosion. After blowing the dungeon, you killed yourself out of guilt. The story fits, and we'll be cleared."

Realizing Fu Mingzhu's lethal intent, the subordinate reached for his blade—but it was too late. Fu Mingzhu gripped his shoulder tightly, preventing escape, and plunged a knife deep into his abdomen.

Blood seeped out, muscles slackened, and the subordinate's eyes widened in shock. He clasped the blade, trying to pull it out, but Fu Mingzhu tightened his grip and drove it deeper.

"This is for the greater good," Fu Mingzhu said with a faint smile. "You're of the Lu clan, sent away as a child. Even if I hadn't found you, you'd want to serve your family, wouldn't you?"

The subordinate collapsed, curling in pain, twitching weakly. He opened his eyes to see the hem of Fu Mingzhu's blue robe brush his face as the retinue departed, the last follower crouching by his side until he drew his final breath.

"Wei King can't run anymore! You…" Li Chen gasped, clutching the wall, bending over, waving forward. "Run! Keep running! Hide!"

Many passed by, none willing to help.

Yan Congzheng took Li Beichen's hand, fled, and vanished into the night.