Accidentally Having a Baby with the Future Emperor - Chapter 111

Xiao Rong knew full well that capturing Jing Xi was a tremendous risk.

However, he also knew that although Yan Ju’s taste in people was questionable, his reputation as the Prince of Northern Yan was fully deserved and not the least bit exaggerated. Without resorting to such extreme measures, Xiao Rong would have no way to stand against him.

Having Jing Xi in his grasp changed everything.

He had stayed in the Northern Yan military camp for half a year and had seen with his own eyes how dearly Yan Ju treasured this adopted son. Everyone in the camp knew it and even the lowest servants in the infirmary knew that the Thirteenth Protector, Jing Xi, was someone who must never be offended. Xiao Rong had witnessed firsthand how Jing Xi was fawned upon like a star surrounded by a host of lesser lights.

To seize Jing Xi was to seize Yan Ju’s weakness.

That was why, earlier today, he had deliberately suggested to the Emperor that two copper coins be changed to five, ruining Jing Xi’s good fortune and provoking him further into attacking first.

Tomorrow, the martial arts tournament will enter the true combat rounds. Without full preparation, Yan Ju would never have allied with the Cui clan or set foot in the capital. Xiao Rong didn’t know the exact strength of the southwestern forces, nor what plans Xi Rong had arranged for the tournament, but he understood that no matter how well-prepared they were, the southwestern troops that were only recently formed could never be a match for the Northern Yan Iron Cavalry.

The Silver Dragon Cavalry might have the strength to rival Northern Yan’s troops, but once the tournament reached its final stage, it would only end in mutual ruin.

That was precisely what Cui Daohuan was waiting for.

And Xiao Rong would never let the Cui clan have its way.

With Jing Xi in his hands, he could control Yan Ju and the outcome of the entire tournament.

He cared nothing for whether his means were honorable.

That was something only saints and gentlemen troubled themselves over. His teacher had named him Zhiwei, not to make him a man of virtue. He had never pretended to be a noble, selfless man.

Jing Xi might be a useless fool, but even a fool has his uses.

Before long, Feng Zhong arrived.

He had still been clinging to a last shred of hope but when he entered the cave and saw Jing Xi’s face clearly, his legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

“Th-this—this…” Near tears, he stumbled toward Xiao Rong. “Young Prince, the one inside is—”

“This man’s name is Jing Xi,” Xiao Rong said calmly, sitting on a relatively clean stone, a wild fruit turning between his fingers. “Didn’t Clan Head Feng see him at the Golden Lantern Pavilion Gathering?”

Feng Zhong really did want to cry now. He had thought the young heir only wanted to borrow some men for a discreet affair. Who could’ve guessed it was to kidnap the Thirteenth Protector of Prince Yan?!

And what sort of man was Prince Yan?

If word of this got out, his entire clan wouldn’t have enough heads to be cut off.

“Young Prince, th-this is madness!” Feng Zhong said, pacing in panic.

Mo Dong shot him a glare. “The young master is thinking. Stop fidgeting.”

Feng Zhong froze and stood obediently still, cold dread crawling up his spine.

Xiao Rong lifted his gaze slightly. “Clan Head Feng has killed and robbed enough times before. Since when did you learn to be afraid?”

At that, Feng Zhong cursed silently to himself, then hastily put on a fawning smile. “It’s not that this humble one is unwilling to follow the Young Prince to the end. It’s just… Prince Yan is here in the capital right now and I fear things might grow too big to contain…”

“Don’t worry,” Xiao Rong said coolly. “I don’t need your life. And Prince Yan will never know you had anything to do with this. Just follow my instructions and do as you’re told.”

Feng Zhong knew all too well that the heir held far too many of his secrets. He had no choice but to obey, his face dark and sullen.

Leaving Feng Zhong in charge of watching the captive, Xiao Rong descended the mountain that very night.

“Young master, can that Feng Zhong be trusted?” Mo Dong glanced back in the direction of the cave.

Xiao Rong clasped his hands behind his back and nodded. “Don’t worry. He’s betrayed too many secrets of the Cui clan and the gentry of Songzhou. If he betrays me now, the only path left for him is death.”

When they reached the foot of the mountain, the sky suddenly opened up and rain began to fall without warning.

Earlier, to cover their tracks, Mo Dong had ordered the carriage driven back to the city. The two of them could only walk through the rain, heading toward the city on foot. Fortunately, the side path soon joined the main road, which made the journey easier.

By the time they entered the west gate, the streets were filled with people hurrying home to escape the rain.

Xiao Rong was in no hurry. He walked leisurely among the crowd, as though taking a casual evening stroll, quietly enjoying the rare coolness of a summer night.

“Candied hawthorns! Sweet and sour candied hawthorns on a stick!”

A cry rang out nearby.

Xiao Rong turned toward the sound and saw a couple with a young child buying candied hawthorns at a street stall. The child was perched on his father’s shoulders, chubby hands gripping a sugar figurine, waving it excitedly.

The sugar figurine spun faster and faster.

For some reason, Xiao Rong’s thoughts drifted with it. Hazy, fragmented memories flashing through his mind like meteors streaking across the sky.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Young master, would you like a stick too?” the old vendor called out from afar.

In that instant, the fleeting images vanished, like fireworks blooming and fading in the night sky.

Xiao Rong smiled apologetically, shook his head, and walked away.

Mo Dong soon found a carriage and Xiao Rong climbed in. His robe was soaked through. Once seated, he realized his head felt heavy and feverish.

No wonder he’d been seeing strange illusions, he thought.

Fortunately, he had been strong and healthy since childhood, and had once practiced basic body-strengthening techniques with an old monk at Yongning Temple. This bit of discomfort wouldn’t hinder him much.

When he returned home, Xiao Rong collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep at once.

He awoke in the middle of the night, chilled to the bone. When he touched his forehead, it was burning hot.

The fever had worsened.

He was terribly thirsty, but too lazy to get up and boil water. After a brief inner struggle, he decided to endure until morning.

All night, he dreamed incoherently of scenes at Yongning Temple, the Northern Yan military camp, Songzhou… and even his old teacher, Qi Ru, scolding him with a rod in hand for betraying his master and ancestors. The last thing he saw before waking was a blood-soaked fox pelt.

Xiao Rong jolted awake in fright.

At dawn, pale light filled the courtyard as he stepped out, his steps unsteady as though treading on cotton. Even Mo Dong noticed something was wrong.

“Boil me a bowl of ginger soup,” Xiao Rong ordered weakly.

Mo Dong didn’t dare delay and hurried to the kitchen.

A quarter-hour later, Xiao Rong was pinching his nose and forcing down the ginger soup while asking, “Any news?”

Mo Dong replied, “Jing Qiu and Jing Si are secretly leading men to search for Jing Xi.”

Xiao Rong wasn’t surprised. Jing Xi’s attendants were all from the Jing clan. The moment he failed to return for the night, the first to hear of it would undoubtedly be Jing Qiu. He must have guessed part of the truth, which was why he didn’t dare make a public scene and was searching in secret instead.

***

Jing Qiu was indeed in a state of panic.

After questioning a few servants who had secretly kept an eye on Jing Xi the previous day, he almost immediately concluded that Jing Xi had once again lost his composure and done something reckless.

After some investigation, Jing Qiu learned from one of Jing Xi’s close attendants that, once the martial arts tournament ended yesterday, Jing Xi had taken around a dozen of his most trusted men and headed toward the west gate of the city.

However, when Jing Qiu hurried there as soon as the gates opened that morning and searched along the western outskirts, he found no trace of them.

His instincts told him once more that something must have happened to his son.

This put Jing Qiu in a painful dilemma.

By reason, he should report the matter immediately to Prince Yan. Given the Prince’s deep affection for his younger son, he would spare no cost to find Jing Xi. Yet doing so would expose whatever Jing Xi had done. No one knew what had occurred the night before. If it involved breaking military law again, regaining his position as the Thirteenth Protector would be even more difficult.

However, if he did not inform Prince Yan, his son’s life might be in danger at any moment and the truth would inevitably come to light sooner or later.

Still, Jing Qiu clung to a shred of hope. All of Jing Xi’s attendants who had gone with him were also missing. Perhaps that meant his son wasn’t in danger. Maybe they were simply lost or delayed for some other reason.

Jing Si, seeing his brother’s anxiety and hesitation, said, “Brother, I do have an idea.”

“Speak.”

“It may not be wise to alarm Prince Yan too hastily. Why don’t we instead seek help from Minister Cui Daohuan? We’re in the capital and the Cui clan commands the Imperial Guards. It would be far easier for them to find someone.”

“Wouldn’t that be too risky?” Jing Qiu hesitated.

Jing Si explained his reasoning, “Jing Xi going out alone last night most likely had to do with that Xiao Rong. The Cui and Xiao clans are at odds, so the Cuis will definitely be willing to help us. Just a few days ago, that very Minister sent over a fine horse as a gift. Clearly, he wishes to befriend our family. I can think of no better solution.”

“So be it, then,” Jing Qiu said at last.

***

Xiao Rong drained a bowl of hot ginger soup, warmth rising through his body as he began to sweat lightly. While writing something, he asked calmly, “What’s the situation now?”

Mo Dong had just returned from outside. “As you expected, young master, Jing Qiu went straight to the Cui residence!”

Xiao Rong nodded, still perfectly composed.

Mo Dong, however, was nervous. “If the Cui clan gets involved too, won’t that make things even more troublesome?”

“Troublesome?” Xiao Rong dipped his brush in ink and smiled faintly. “I think it’s splendid. The Imperial Guards are a pack of useless men. They rarely have something worthwhile to do. At least this way, they’ll finally earn their pay.”

***

After last night’s fine drizzle, the sky cleared today, bright and crisp.

The martial arts tournament was about to enter its formal competition phase and the atmosphere in the training ground was far tenser than the day before.

Xiao Rong sat once again beside the Emperor’s desk. Just as he raised his sleeve to sip tea, he felt two sharp gazes fixed on him. Looking up, he saw the Jing brothers, disguised and seated in a secluded corner.

Suspicion and doubt filled their eyes.

They were certain Jing Xi’s disappearance was somehow tied to Xiao Rong, yet they had no proof. Seeing him sit there unruffled, they longed to stride up and confront him directly.

Unfortunately, Xiao Rong’s seat was beside the Emperor and Prince Xiao himself was present today. They had neither the rank nor the courage to approach.

Fortunately, their visit to the Cui residence that morning had gone well. Just as Jing Si had predicted, Minister Cui Daohuan received them warmly, listened carefully to their account, and promised that the Imperial Guards would spare no effort to find Jing Xi.

That day’s contests were archery and horsemanship, both basic skills for any general, taking the stage following the draw.

Dust rose and horses thundered across the arena. With each passing hour, Jing Qiu’s anxiety burned hotter, like oil on flame.

Archery and riding were both key tests of ability, but in horsemanship, the Northern Yan cavalry, seasoned veterans of decades across the northern deserts, were unmatched. In the end, the first prize went to Prince Yan’s fiercest general, Gongsun Yu.

The archery contest lasted quite a while.

Mo Qing and Gongsun Yu competed through three additional rounds, yet still failed to determine a winner. In the end, the Emperor declared it a draw and rewarded both men generously.

Zhang Ran, Meng Hui, Zhang He, Jiang Ying, and other generals from the Northern Yan Army and the Silver Dragon Cavalry also gave outstanding performances.

The southwestern garrison, as usual, performed mediocrely, while the Imperial Guards, save for Cui Cheng, were completely defeated.

After stepping off the field, Gongsun Yu stroked his horse’s mane as he removed the saddle. A soldier approached him.

“Someone sent this letter for the General.”

Gongsun Yu took it. Seeing no signature on the envelope, he frowned and then opened it. The moment his eyes swept over the contents, his face changed.

***

When the competition ended, Xiao Rong left by carriage and swaggered straight into the largest private room at Apricot Blossom Pavilion.

When the waiter came in with a menu, Xiao Rong said directly, “No need to look. Bring me one of every signature dish and a pot of your finest tea.”

The waiter hurried off to comply.

The room overlooked the street. Xiao Rong sat drinking tea, lost in thought. He had barely taken two sips when the door was suddenly pushed open from outside.

A figure strode in quickly.

Xiao Rong looked up and froze for a moment. Then the corners of his lips curved into a bright smile. “Your Highness, what brings you here?”

Xi Rong’s expression was graver than ever. He motioned for Jiang Cheng to close the door before speaking. “Rongrong, Jing Xi is in your hands, isn’t he?”

Mo Dong immediately tensed, alarmed.

However, Xiao Rong remained perfectly calm. “And if he is? We have nothing to do with each other anymore, Your Highness. It seems you have no right to meddle in my affairs.”

Xi Rong did not answer, only asked instead, “You came here tonight to meet Prince Yan, didn’t you?”

Xiao Rong held the teacup without replying.

Xi Rong stood there for a while, then unfastened his sword, laid it on the table, and sat down across from him.

Seeing that he truly meant to sit and dine, Xiao Rong could no longer keep up his composure. “Your Highness, I paid for this private room,” he said coldly.

Xi Rong didn’t move, nor did he reply.

A sinking feeling rose in Xiao Rong’s chest.

“Mo Dong!” Xiao Rong ordered sharply, “Escort His Highness the Crown Prince out.”

“Jiang Cheng,” Xi Rong called in turn.

Jiang Cheng immediately entered.

Xiao Rong clenched his teeth. “Xi Junjing, have you gone mad?”

“Your Highness!” Song Yang and Zhou Wenhe rushed up from downstairs. “Cui Daohuan has already ordered the Imperial Guards to surround the place.”

The room fell utterly silent.

“Leave us,” Xi Rong said evenly.

The three of them did not dare disobey. They withdrew, anxious and uneasy.

Mo Dong glanced out the window. The entire Apricot Blossom Pavilion was surrounded, layer upon layer, inside and out, by fully armed Imperial Guards. The place was sealed so tightly that not even water could pass through.

Outside, Cui Daohuan himself led the troops. Mounted on his horse, he was just about to raise his hand and order the guards to storm the building when the thunderous sound of galloping hooves suddenly echoed down the street.

“Hold, Minister of State Affairs!”

A rider appeared first. Clad in a gray battle robe, his face covered with a silver mask. It was none other than Gongsun Yu.

“General Gongsun? What brings you here?” Cui Daohuan asked in surprise.

Gongsun Yu dismounted, saluted with measured respect, and said calmly, “This concerns Captain Jing. His Highness Prince Yan has ordered that the people inside the building be taken back for him to question personally.”