Chapter 29#
Afternoon. A Roadblock Tiger.#
“Your Excellency, we two have confirmed with Young Master Pei the Second and Young Master Zhao the Fourth that this kidnapper indeed followed Young Master Wang’s attendant during the Qixia Banquet,” reported the Cage Crane Guard in the hall, presenting their findings. “We also checked the roster at the Wang residence—this man is not a servant of the Wang family.”
You Zong grunted an acknowledgment, and the two men bowed before withdrawing. He set down his brush unhurriedly, turning his gaze to Wang Yelai. “Now can you speak?”
At this point, Wang Yelai knew he could no longer deny involvement and, steeling himself, admitted, “Fine, I confess. I did hire this thug.”
He thrust out an arm, pointing at Pei Xiting with reckless abandon. “I just wanted to teach him a lesson!”
Pei Xiting, startled awake by the commotion, frowned groggily and said, “What’s all the noise? No manners at all.”
Wang Yelai: “…”
Are you really this bold and casual in the Cage Crane Bureau? Acting like it’s your own home!
Wang Yelai couldn’t help but glance at You Zong. This Left Commissioner, promoted by the Crown Prince himself, had a notoriously bad reputation. Yet now he showed no displeasure at his subordinate’s lax and disrespectful behavior, not even bothering to offer a word of reprimand. How strange… Could there be some private relationship between Pei Xiting and You Zong?
That’s it—it had to be. How else could Pei Xiting have entered the Cage Crane Bureau? The more Wang Yelai thought about it, the more convinced he became. His gaze at Pei Xiting grew increasingly jealous and resentful. Entangling himself with the young marquis while having an unclear relationship with Commissioner You? What a fox, utterly shameless!
“I have no grudge against you. What reason could you have to teach me a lesson?”
Pei Xiting’s lazy voice cut through Wang Yelai’s thoughts. He snapped back to reality and sneered, “Don’t play dumb. You and Qing Lingling—are you two involved?”
“Huh?” Gossip? Yu Shaoyun pricked up his ears, his drowsiness vanishing instantly.
The Crown Prince turned a page of his book, listening as Pei Xiting said with a wry smile from the other side of the partition, “So you’re pissed at me because of Qing Lingling? You like him?”
“What’s wrong with that? Qing Lingling’s voice and looks are captivating. The crowd willing to patronize his seat stretches from Mandarin Duck Pavilion all the way to the city gate. Is that so strange? You’re one of them too—don’t try to deny it,” Wang Yelai raised his voice. “I saw you enter his room once, a while back. You stayed a long time, and no singing came from inside. What were you two doing in there?”
Pei Xiting had no idea which occasion Wang was referring to and couldn’t be bothered to explain what he and Qing Lingling had done in that room. He simply said, “So many people patronize Qing Lingling’s seat. Why don’t any of them come after me? Only you do, Master Wang. You sure have a temper.”
He leaned back, resting against the chair, and looked at Wang Yelai with a detached air. “But as far as I know, there’s nothing ambiguous between you and Qing Lingling. He probably doesn’t even remember who you are. So where does this temper of yours come from?”
Wang Yelai snorted coldly. “I like him, so I’m jealous. Is that not allowed?”
“Your possessiveness over someone who isn’t yours is quite something. How strange—if you’re going to be jealous, shouldn’t you be most jealous of the Ning Prince’s heir? Why didn’t you kidnap him instead?” Pei Xiting smirked. “Could it be you don’t dare?”
Wang Yelai replied with brazen confidence, “Of course I wouldn’t dare show the slightest disrespect to the heir. I pick on the weak and fear the strong. Got a problem?”
Pei Xiting said nothing, and as expected, You Zong’s voice rang out. “When did it become acceptable for anyone to casually bully a member of my Cage Crane Bureau?”
Wang Yelai realized his misstep belatedly and his expression shifted. Hastily, he said, “Commissioner You, I meant no disrespect to the Cage Crane Bureau. I just wanted to deal with Pei San. This is, after all, a private grudge between Pei San and me, isn’t it?”
His implication was clear: You Zong was blurring public and private matters, abusing his authority.
You Zong said, “Pei the Scribe is a scribe of the Cage Crane Bureau. You came to our turf to bully him—that’s no different from a dog deliberately pissing in front of me. Do you expect me to look the other way?”
A glint of menace flickered in You Zong’s eyes, just a fraction of the wildness in his nature, but it was enough to drain the color from Wang Yelai’s face. He was momentarily speechless.
You Zong withdrew his gaze, picked up his brush, and wrote two lines on a sheet of letter paper. As he did, he said, “Master Wang, considering your youth, I won’t make things too difficult for you or jeopardize your life or future. But I must warn you: if you dirty the ground in front of my door again, I’ll make you lick it clean. Now—”
He lifted the letter paper and said to Wang Yelai, “Leave your dog behind, take this letter back, and give my regards to Secretary Lang Wang.”
Wang Yelai clenched his jaw, let out a muffled acknowledgment, stepped forward, accepted the letter with both hands, bowed stiffly, and turned to leave.
“Stop,” You Zong called out. “Apologize to Scribe Pei.”
Wang Yelai’s fists inside his robe cracked audibly. He spun around sharply, raised his hands in a bow toward Pei Xiting, and said, “My apologies… Pei San, Scribe Pei.”
Pei Xiting turned sideways, refusing to accept it.
You bastard! Wang Yelai felt like grinding his teeth to powder. When You Zong did not press further, he turned and strode away quickly.
“Don’t puff out your cheeks,” You Zong said, his tone softening as he looked at Pei Xiting. “He’ll get a beating when he gets home. Consider that your compensation.”
Pei Xiting let out an “ah” and unconsciously adjusted his expression. “Was I puffing out my cheeks?”
You Zong nodded. “You were.”
“Alright.” Pei Xiting pressed his cheek, then cupped his hands and said, “Thank you, Commissioner, for standing up for me. You truly are the best person in the world.”
Yu Shaoyun let out a silent “huh” and noticed the Crown Prince give an almost imperceptible shake of his head, evidently having opinions about Pei Xiting’s flattery and capping.
You Zong also recalled the Crown Prince’s earlier words and couldn’t help asking with curiosity, “How many people have you said that to?”
“Not many at all,” Pei Xiting said honestly. “An elder who’s passed on, an uncle who sold me stuffed pancakes, and now you, Commissioner.”
He held up three fingers, looking innocent. “Not too many, right?”
“Far fewer than I expected.” You Zong beckoned Pei Xiting over to the table, studying him for a moment. “You and that Qing Lingling—nothing going on?”
Pei Xiting said, “We really haven’t slept together. We’re just friends. Since I offended the young marquis, I distanced myself from Qing Lingling first to avoid dragging him into it. But it seems the separation wasn’t clean enough.”
You Zong paused briefly at his blunt phrasing, then said, “I’m not trying to pry into your private affairs, but Qing Lingling has close ties to the Ning Prince’s heir. If you’re recklessly pursuing a fling with him out of youthful impulsiveness, it would be very unwise.”
“I know. Rest assured, Commissioner, there’s nothing ambiguous between Qing Lingling and me. Besides,” Pei Xiting paused, weighing his words, “I think Wang Yelai is lying. So many people enjoy listening to Qing Lingling sing—why would he be jealous of me specifically? If we follow his ‘pick on the weak’ principle, plenty of patrons are softer targets than me. He should’ve gone after them. And from the very start, at Pixia Mountain, he deliberately shot at me. The malice in his eyes doesn’t lie.”
“Wang Yelai’s eyes were shifty—he’s definitely hiding something.” You Zong glanced at the kidnapper on the floor. “Let me interrogate him first.”
Pei Xiting was taken aback. “Commissioner, you’ve already helped me out and even offended Secretary Lang Wang on my account. I’m truly grateful. Your duties are heavy—you really don’t need to trouble yourself further over me.”
“You’re my subordinate. If I don’t protect you, should I expect some other bureau to stick up for you?” You Zong looked at Pei Xiting. “If you get into arguments or fights outside, I won’t interfere, much less summon people to the Cage Crane Bureau for questioning. But I won’t allow anyone to come to your doorstep and bully you. Otherwise, where would the face of my Cage Crane Bureau go?”
Pei Xiting said nothing more, bowed in thanks, and withdrew.
As he walked out the front gate, a roadblock tiger stood on the path, its body bathed in sunlight like a cloak of golden feathers. Its round eyes were like amber, lustrous and clear, staring straight at him.
“Oh, good afternoon.” Pei Xiting cautiously approached, not daring to pet it immediately. When he noticed the longevity cord on its paw, he couldn’t help but smile. “I’m surprised you haven’t managed to lose it yet. I thought you’d yank it off and toss it somewhere in no time.”
The Little King followed his gaze, lifting its forepaw, and left a faint claw mark on the hem of Pei Xiting’s robe. It looked up at him with lofty pride, as if issuing a challenge.
Pei Xiting wasn’t angry. He asked seriously, “Why are you pawing at me? Did I offend you?”
Though the Little King possessed a certain intelligence, it wasn’t fluent in human speech. It simply caught the scent of this person—clean, crisp, with not a trace of ill intent, like an early autumn breeze. It found the scent very pleasant.
The Crown Prince, standing beneath the corridor, watched the little tiger nuzzle and rub against Pei Xiting’s leg. The light robe fluttered open, the wind pressing the trousers against his skin, revealing the straight, slender contours beneath.
Suddenly, as if ticklish, Pei Xiting sidestepped lightly. The Little King chased after him, and he laughed. His bright, serene face now relaxed and cheerful, framed by sunlight like a layer of gold leaf, radiant and dazzling.
“Hey!” Pei Xiting exclaimed, the end of his belt caught in the Little King’s mouth and yanked off in one tug. The light pomegranate-colored robe loosened, fluttering in the wind like a patch of sunset.
“Spoiled rotten!” Pei Xiting, unconcerned about his disheveled appearance, lifted his leg and gave chase to the little culprit. Man and tiger chased each other around the corridor. But he was clearly no match for the Little King, and the little tiger had a certain slyness to it—after running a distance, it would look back at him, only to bolt again just as he neared its tail. Pei Xiting was both exasperated and amused.
“I’m going to report you to the Eastern Palace!” Pei Xiting threatened.
The little tiger paid no heed. After leading him on a merry chase, it dashed into a clump of locust trees ahead. Pei Xiting barreled forward, sending the locust blossoms fluttering down like snow.
His vision blurred, and just as he was about to follow, a figure emerged gracefully from the “snow”—long brows, phoenix eyes—clearly the master arriving to cover for his tiger.
Pei Xiting slammed on the brakes, stopping just short of the Crown Prince’s toes. He looked up hurriedly, caught off guard, and met the Crown Prince’s downward gaze. It was like falling into a deep, ancient well—his heart seemed to stop, then beat all the more fiercely. He stood dazed, half-looking up, staring into those eyes.
The Crown Prince watched Pei Xiting’s thin-flushed face from the chase, heard his soft breathing, so close that he could even catch the fresh, slightly astringent scent of citrus wine on him.
“Sweat beads glisten like pearls, disheveled hair like green silk loosened”—most inappropriately, the line surfaced in the Crown Prince’s mind.
Pei Xiting, naturally unaware of the Crown Prince’s inner thoughts, finally came to his senses. He stepped back two paces, smoothed the stray strands of hair blown against his face by the wind, cleared his dry throat, and then waved casually. “Your Highness, good afternoon.”