Chapter Forty-Nine: The Arrest

The night wind swept relentlessly, and the hour was nearing dawn. Wen Qi involuntarily shrank, and Ji Changge removed his cloak, draping it over her shoulders.

Her heart trembled. She thought, had it been the Wen Qiniang of old, she would have been overjoyed at such tenderness from the dignified Young Lord Ning. Yet that Wen Qiniang had long since died, leaving only a trace of bitterness in this body.

A sharp sound sliced through the silence of the night.

Ji Changge suddenly shoved her, sending Wen Qi stumbling to the ground, utterly unprepared. At the same time, she heard a muffled groan.

Uncle Quan let out a low growl and silently darted forward.

“What’s happened?” Wen Qi was completely at a loss.

“It’s nothing,” Ji Changge replied, pressing his arm. A bead of crimson blood fell from his fingertips to the ground.

“Ji Changge, this strike repays what I owe you—ha ha ha!” Wen Qi turned toward the voice and saw a figure darting past, clad in black armor with a patch of pale skin exposed at the abdomen. His skin was unnaturally white, making him stand out starkly in the darkness. His voice was wild and thunderous, hurting Wen Qi’s ears.

Moments later, Uncle Quan landed quietly at Ji Changge’s side.

“Forgive me, Young Master, he escaped again.”

“We’ll discuss it when we return,” Ji Changge said.

In silence, Wen Qi could feel the cold aura emanating from Ji Changge, and the air was thick with the familiar scent of blood.

The three returned to the county office, slipping quietly back into their rooms.

Wen Qi lit the oil lamp and covered it with its shade.

“Lord Ji, your wound…” Wen Qi noticed a large portion of Ji Changge’s black robe soaked, knowing it was stained with blood, and offered to bandage it for him.

“You should go back,” Ji Changge interrupted.

Wen Qi bowed slightly and withdrew.

A droplet of dark blood fell to the floor, but Ji Changge seemed not to notice, his face grim and silent.

“Allow this old servant to detoxify and dress your wound,” Uncle Quan knelt.

“If that flying dagger had been aimed at me just now, would you have pretended not to notice?” Ji Changge asked coldly.

Uncle Quan was silent.

“Even if she were a stranger, you should not turn a blind eye after all these years by my side.”

“It’s all my fault, Young Master. I will never forget and will not repeat this mistake. Please let me treat your injury.”

Ji Changge nodded, allowing Uncle Quan to tend to his wound, though his expression remained cold.

“Young Master, do you know why Luo Wenshui targeted Miss Wen?” Uncle Quan asked as he dressed the wound.

Ji Changge paused. Luo Wenshui was after him, of course. If the dagger had been aimed at him, he wouldn’t have been hurt. He pushed Wen Qi aside but didn’t have time to dodge, and it seemed Luo Wenshui had calculated this. He wasn’t trying to kill Ji Changge, merely to avenge the previous arrow.

“Even if I had saved her, can you guarantee she’ll always be under our watch?” Uncle Quan suddenly grew talkative.

Ji Changge’s gaze turned icy, his right hand clenched tightly, nails digging into his palm, then he let go.

“Young Master, he’s disloyal—”

“Enough. Don’t mention it again,” Ji Changge closed his eyes.

Dawn was breaking when Wen Qi rose. She had lain awake all night, unable to sleep, her mind restless. She decided to get up and breathe the fresh morning air, pacing the courtyard.

Turning, she saw Ji Changge emerge, cloak draped over him, his arm bandaged.

“Thank you, Lord Ji, for saving my life yesterday,” Wen Qi stepped forward.

“His target was me; there’s no need to thank me,” Ji Changge replied indifferently.

“So that's how it is.” Wen Qi smiled faintly. This was the Young Lord Ning she remembered—aloof and distant.

A man with the bearing of a general approached and whispered to Ji Changge.

“Move out,” Ji Changge ordered coldly.

“Surround the place. Not even a fly gets out.”

“Yes, sir!”

The residents of Peony Pavilion, still half asleep, were startled awake by the thunderous footsteps outside.

“Madam Chun, something’s wrong! Please get up!” Several guards pounded on Chun’s door.

“You useless lot, what’s all this noise? I just lay down! Unless the sky falls, let me sleep!” Chun cursed.

“It really has!” one of the guards wailed.

Chun’s eyes snapped open, realizing trouble was afoot. She threw on her coat and rushed out.

Opening the door, her face changed instantly. The room was surrounded by at least a hundred soldiers, their blades gleaming coldly. Standing in the center was the very Ji Changge who had come “seeking pleasure” the previous night. Chun had never seen such a display; she collapsed, limp with fear. She had thought Ji Changge was just a wealthy, pampered youth, never realizing how wrong she’d been.

With a gesture from Ji Changge, dozens of soldiers surged forward, kicking open every door and arresting everyone without exception. The Peony Pavilion erupted in wailing and chaos.

“Young Master, Miss Leng is nowhere to be found,” Uncle Quan reported.

“Search every corner. Leave nothing unchecked,” Ji Changge felt a sudden unease, a feeling that had first surfaced when Leng Yijun bid him farewell last night.

Ji Changge faced Chun, his voice cold. “Where is Leng Yijun?”

Chun glanced at him, no longer frightened, but surprisingly composed. “I haven’t seen Yijun since last night. How should I know where she’s gone?”

“If she’s alive, you may live. If she’s dead, I’ll make sure you long for death and cannot find it, and life will be worse than death.”

Chun shivered.

Ji Changge entered Leng Yijun’s room. Everything was as it had been the day before—the bed neatly made, furniture in place, no bloodstains on the floor or walls.

His gaze fell upon a crumpled piece of paper in the corner. He picked it up and unfolded it, pausing. It was a portrait of himself. Without further thought, Ji Changge tucked it into his sleeve and strode out.

Uncle Quan approached and whispered a few words. Ji Changge’s expression softened slightly. No news, at least, was not bad news.

“Take them all back to the office. I’ll interrogate them myself.”

The streets were lined with county residents, crowding every inch. As Chun and the others emerged, angry women hurled rotten eggs and wilted vegetables at them. Peony Pavilion had long been the focus of public ire—when husbands stayed out all night, nine times out of ten, they were inside those walls. Normally, wives dared not voice their anger for fear of the guards, but now, years of pent-up rage burst forth, bringing relief to all.

As the Peony Pavilion residents were marched to the county office, Su Mu was calmly sipping tea.

“Lord Su, Peony Pavilion is closely related to the woman’s corpse. I took the liberty of arresting them for you—for thorough interrogation,” Ji Changge said with a smile.

“Cough, cough, cough!” Su Mu choked on his tea, coughing violently, his face flushed. He stared in astonishment at the procession behind Ji Changge, led by Chun.

“Lock them in the dungeon. We’ll question them soon,” Ji Changge ordered.

Wen Baniang was stunned, mouth agape. Wen Qi was equally surprised. She had not expected Ji Changge to act so swiftly, nor to summon a military force at such short notice. Such connections and capability surely relied on more than just his title as Young Lord Ning.