Chapter 32
The Child Is Missing!
“These two are completely unreliable… Forget it, I’ll just keep patrolling the streets myself…”
When the person had finally walked away, faint curses echoed briefly from the dark bridge tunnel. The sound was fleeting—like an illusion created by the murmuring river.
The rest of the journey went smoothly. Ying Jiuque strolled leisurely, completely unaware that her every movement had already been reported up the chain, all the way to the highest ruler of the empire.
Inside the resplendent Hall of Vitality, Emperor Jingtai sat upright on his dragon throne, silent for a long time. The golden-armored guard who had reported Ying Jiuque’s movements felt curious but dared not show it. Why did His Majesty pay such close attention to this person?
He was one of the emperor’s shadow guards, among the most secret and elite of the Golden Armored Guard, whose duty was to protect the emperor’s safety. Even the royal princes were rarely placed under such close watch. Yet a mere Sixth-Rank City Inspector, Ying Jiuque, was being observed at that level—how could that not arouse curiosity?
Still, the guard knew his place well. He would never say or do anything that should not be said or done.
Emperor Jingtai absently toyed with a small paperweight the size of a walnut. The smooth luster of the mutton-fat jade had deepened after years of handling. Within that tiny piece of jade, nine dragons coiled and danced in exquisite harmony—a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
This jade had been offered to the emperor thirteen years ago, the year of his ascension to the throne. It was the final work of the great master Mo Yezi, a national treasure. The emperor often found himself playing with it without realizing, and those who served close to him all knew—it was his favorite possession.
Yet as he turned the rare treasure in his hand, there was no trace of joy on his face.
That child… that girl—Ying Jiuque, the daughter of General Ying.
She had glimpsed the filth hidden beneath the empire’s glory, the darkness beneath its light.
What would she think of it?
What would she do?
Would she think that he, the emperor, had failed?
In his life, Jingtai had heard endless flattery. Perhaps some of it was sincere—but such sincerity was rare and hard to find. To glimpse even a fragment of true feeling, he had to strip away all the layers of power, politics, and self-interest surrounding him. It wasn’t impossible—but it was exhausting.
He was fifty years old now. For more than half his life, he had faced everyone around him with the harshest vigilance.
He was the emperor—only the emperor—not a god. And gods did not tire. But he did.
And yet now… there was someone who felt entirely transparent, like a handful of clear water—so pure he could see right through her.
He didn’t need to worry about false courtesy or hidden intentions. He could sense her thoughts directly. She couldn’t lie—because even she herself didn’t realize her heart’s voice could be heard.
How could Emperor Jingtai not care about what she thought, when everyone else around him might be lying?
To him, Ying Jiuque was the most genuine person in the world.
Lost in thought, the emperor was startled by the sound of hurried footsteps. Looking up, he saw Eunuch Jiufu approaching with a troubled expression. The emperor frowned—Jiufu would never interrupt him without cause.
“What is it?” the emperor asked.
Jiufu looked awkward, almost panicked. In truth, if Marquis Weiyuan hadn’t nearly knelt to him in desperation, he would never have dared interrupt His Majesty’s meditation.
“Your Majesty… Marquis Weiyuan seeks an audience. It seems… it seems his young son has gone missing.”
“Marquis Weiyuan?”
Emperor Jingtai stiffened and suddenly sat upright.
“What? General Qi Zheng’s son?! He only has one child! I’ve met that boy before—rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed, like a golden child from the Bodhisattva’s side, blessed and cherished by his whole family. How could he go missing? Are you certain there’s no mistake?”
He didn’t hesitate any longer and immediately ordered Qi Zheng to be brought in.
Qi Zheng had been one of the first generals to follow him in the wars of unification—a towering man of nine feet, once known for charging through battle seven times without drawing a breath. But now, the years had silvered his hair.
When Qi Zheng hurried in, the battle-hardened man—now in his forties—was pale, trembling, nearly out of breath. The sight of the emperor broke his composure entirely; his eyes reddened, and tears rolled down his weathered cheeks. His voice shook.
“Brother Jing… my—my Bao’er is gone…”
The emperor’s heart clenched painfully. He rushed down from the throne and caught Qi Zheng before he could kneel. His voice was filled with distress.
“What happened? Don’t panic—tell me everything! How could Bao’er go missing? Weren’t your household guards with him? Who would dare take him? Could he have gone to your brother’s home?”
There were many ways a man could cry. Jingtai knew this one well. He and Qi Zheng had fought side by side for over a decade—brothers forged through blood and war. Qi Zheng was a man of few words, never one for displays of emotion. For him to weep now, in front of the emperor—it hurt Jingtai more than being stabbed himself. He hurried to comfort his old comrade.
Qi Zheng roughly wiped his face, then barked an order to the man behind him.
“Tell His Majesty everything—exactly as it happened!”
The trembling man who stepped forward was none other than Yang Linyuan—the arrogant young noble who had recently clashed with Ying Jiuque.
His face was swollen like a pig’s head, pale with fear. Under the emperor’s dark, furrowed gaze, he stammered out his explanation.
After slinking away earlier, Yang Linyuan had hurried to the Huicui Pavilion to fetch his cousin and young niece. Unexpectedly, he ran into his second uncle there—Marquis Anyuan, younger brother to Marquis Weiyuan.
Their family history was a tangle. The two brothers, both sons of the same parents, had taken different surnames after a family rift—one following their father’s, the other their mother’s. Still, their relationship remained close. During the wars of unification, they had fought side by side and were both ennobled by Emperor Jingtai afterward.
Unlike the still-serving Marquis Anyuan, Qi Zheng (Marquis Weiyuan) had long since retired from court life to enjoy peaceful wealth and family bliss. Five years ago, his wife had borne him a long-awaited son—his pride and joy. Since then, he had lived contentedly as a country gentleman, doting endlessly on the boy.
The two families had always been on good terms, so it was natural that Yang Linyuan invited his little cousin to join them for a meal. The child was indeed as adorable as a jade doll—Yang liked him instantly and played with him affectionately.
Since they were all family, they ate together in a private room. No one expected trouble. But midway through the meal, a commotion erupted downstairs.
Curious by nature, Yang Linyuan went out to watch—it was just two merchants fighting over seats. He stayed only a short while, and when he returned…
His cousin was slumped over the table. His niece leaned limply against a chair. The servants were sprawled on the floor, unconscious.
Yang Linyuan froze in horror. Everyone else was there—except one.
His little cousin—the only son of Marquis Weiyuan—
was gone.
