The Crown Prince dared not think any further.
He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the letter lying on the table.
His grip had left several deep creases along the edges of the paper, and the ink had blurred in places, as though it had been dampened by something.
The story went back to the previous day. At that moment, the Third Prince was seated in the main hall of the inn, a map of the area around Qingyang Town spread out before him.
The map had been brought by Shopkeeper Zhou. It marked the abandoned courtyard where the kidnappers were hiding, the route they had taken to escape, as well as all the roads and villages in the surrounding area.
The Third Prince slowly moved his finger across the map.
Starting from the abandoned courtyard, one could follow a small road south, cross two rivers, climb over a mountain, and enter the next county.
Shen Jinghong stood beside him, his gaze fixed on the small road.
“Where does this road lead?”
The Third Prince’s finger stopped over a place-name.
“Linshui County. South of that is the Yellow River ferry. Once they cross the Yellow River, they’ll have the whole world at their disposal and can go wherever they please.”
“So their plan is to take the prisoner to Linshui County, cross the river at the ferry, and then transport him somewhere else.”
Shen Jinghong tapped the map twice with his finger.
“We need to find out whether they have someone waiting for them in Linshui County, whether a boat is waiting at the ferry, and which direction they plan to take after crossing the river. Every detail has to be investigated.”
“It’s already being looked into.” The Third Prince rolled up the map and slipped it into his sleeve. “We’ll have news by tonight at the latest.”
Shen Jinghong watched him roll up the map, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly.
“You seem rather more concerned about Shi Huai than you are about yourself, Your Highness.”
The Third Prince’s hands paused. He raised his head and glanced at Shen Jinghong.
“He is an official of the imperial court, a newly named palace graduate ranked third. He was kidnapped on the road. Taking charge of this matter is simply part of my duty.”
Shen Jinghong did not expose him. Instead, he turned and walked to the window, pushing it open to let the morning breeze rush inside.
The breeze carried the distinctive chill of dawn, making the fur along his collar tremble slightly.
He looked out at the gray-blue sky. A sliver of pale light had already appeared along the eastern horizon, like the belly of a fish. Daybreak was near.
A faint sound of footsteps came from upstairs. Qinghe emerged from Young Master Shi’s room carrying a basin of wash water.
When she saw the two men sitting in the main hall, she froze.
The copper basin in her hands wobbled, spilling a few drops of water onto the wooden floor. The water seeped into the boards, spreading into a small, dark stain.
“Y-You two young masters... When did you arrive?”
Qinghe’s voice was still hoarse from crying.
“We just got here.” Shen Jinghong turned from the window. “Has Shi Huai woken up?”
Qinghe shook her head. “He was exhausted after everything that happened last night. He only managed to fall asleep just before dawn.”
She lowered her head to look at the copper basin, then raised it to glance at the two men’s faces, both worn from staying up all night. Her lips moved as though she wanted to say something, but in the end she swallowed the words and carried the basin downstairs to the kitchen.
The fire in the kitchen was burning brightly, and the water in the kettle bubbled merrily.
Qinghe set the copper basin on the stove, scooped up a ladleful of cold water from the vat, and poured it in to mix with the hot water. She tested the temperature. It was neither too hot nor too cold—just right.
As she carried the basin upstairs, she encountered someone at the bend in the staircase.
The man wore a dark gray tunic and a short saber hung from his waist. His face was square, and his eyes were sharp.
He was one of the men Lin Huaiyuan had sent.
Standing at the corner of the stairs, he blocked Qinghe’s way.
When she moved left, he moved left. When she moved right, he moved right. She looked up and glared at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Young Master Shi was frightened last night and needs to rest today. No one is to disturb him.”
His voice was not loud, but the unmistakable firmness in his tone left no room for negotiation.
Qinghe’s face flushed with anger.
“I’m his maid! I need to attend to his washing and meals! Move aside!”
The man glanced at her and shifted half a step to the side.
As Qinghe carried the basin past him, she heard him say, “From now on, Young Master Shi’s safety will be our responsibility. You need only take care of his food and daily needs.”
Qinghe’s footsteps faltered for a moment, but she did not turn around. She continued on with the basin in her hands.
When she reached Young Master Shi’s door, she noticed a line of light shining through the crack.
Shi Huai was sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall. The wound on his wrist had been bandaged again, the white cloth wrapped neatly around it and tied in a handsome knot.
When Shi Huai saw Qinghe enter, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Sister Qinghe, did you bandage my wrist?”
Qinghe shook her head, set the copper basin on the table, wrung out a cloth, and handed it to him.
“It was Young Master Shen. He used to serve in the army, so he’s much better at bandaging wounds than I am.”
Shi Huai took the cloth and wiped his face. It was warm and carried a faint bamboo fragrance.
When he finished, he handed it back to Qinghe and lowered his gaze to the white bandage around his wrist.
It was wrapped firmly, with just the right amount of pressure.
It was tight enough to hold without making his hand numb, yet not so loose that it would slip off.
“Brother Shen? Why is he here?”
“Not just him. His Highness the Third Prince is here too.”
The moment Qinghe finished speaking, a hurried set of footsteps came from the stairway.
Shen Jinghong entered carrying a bowl of porridge. It was thick white rice porridge, with several red dates floating on top.
He walked to the bedside, placed the bowl on the small table, then took a step back and looked at Shi Huai.
His words, however, were clearly calculated.
“His Highness the Third Prince is downstairs. I came up to see how you were first.”
Shi Huai picked up the bowl and took a sip.
The porridge was at the perfect temperature—not hot enough to scald his mouth, nor cold enough to chill it. The sweetness of the red dates mingled with the fragrance of rice and spread across his tongue.
He swallowed and looked up at Shen Jinghong.
“Brother Shen, did you ride all night from the capital?”
Shen Jinghong sat down in the chair beside the bed without answering. His gaze fell on the white bandage around Shi Huai’s wrist, and his brows remained tightly drawn.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with the kidnappers anymore. His Highness the Third Prince has taken over the investigation. The Crown Prince’s men have arrived as well. They say they intend to extract the name of the mastermind from those kidnappers.”
Shi Huai set the bowl back on the small table and leaned against the headboard, studying Shen Jinghong’s exhausted face. Then, quite suddenly, he asked, “Brother Shen, did you know someone was going to come after me?”
Shen Jinghong’s fingers paused. He lifted his eyes to meet Shi Huai’s gaze.
With genuine regret, he said, “If I had known, I never would have let you leave the city.”
Shi Huai stared into his eyes for a long while.
His peach-blossom eyes were webbed with red from exhaustion, and fatigue mingled with remorse in his expression. He did not look as though he was lying.
From outside the door came the Third Prince’s voice, full of anger and ringing with authority.
“What did you say? Say that again?”
