Ye Jiao eyed Li Ce with suspicion. This man was full of schemes—she couldn't afford to be deceived by him. What matter required whispering at such proximity? Could he be hiding yet another secret?
She took a cautious step closer, but Li Ce shook his head slowly, silently insisting it wasn't near enough. With a resigned sigh, Ye Jiao leaned in until she was nearly touching the swaddled infant in his arms. Curiously, she said, "Speak."
Let's see what you're up to. After all, this city gate is under the jurisdiction of the Marquis of War—what could he possibly do?
Lowering his head, Li Ce caught the fragrant scent of her hair—wild rose entwined with gardenia, bold and intoxicating. At last, he could be this close to her.
"Look down. What do you see?" he asked.
Ye Jiao tilted her head ever so slightly and sneered, "Cow dung on your shoe."
The mighty Prince of Chu, reduced to herding sheep and stepping in manure—how far he had fallen.
Li Ce remained unbothered, gesturing slightly with his chin. "I meant the infant's face."
What's there to look at on a baby's face? Could it be a child of someone they knew?
Li Ce's tone softened. "This child's skin is smooth and dewy, carrying a faint scent of peach blossom cream. But look at the couple—do they seem the type to afford such luxury?"
Their tattered clothing clearly marked them as destitute.
Realization dawned on Ye Jiao just as Yan Congzheng dragged the couple forward, pressing the blade of his dagger to the man's chest. "Speak. Where did this child come from?"
"Sirs," the man stammered, eyes locked on the dagger, trembling with fear. "We didn't steal the child—we found him. We live outside the city. Came in early to sell chickens at the morning market. On the way back, we passed an alley and saw him abandoned in a corner. He wasn't even wrapped in a coat, frozen and unconscious. We thought if we took him with us, perhaps someone outside the city would want him—give him a good home."
A half-truth at best. Yan Congzheng's blade inched forward, and he sneered coldly. "A good home, or a price?"
"No, no—yes—sell! Sell him," the man stuttered, pale as ash. "Some families in our village can't have children… they'd be willing to pay…"
No further interrogation was needed.
"Escort them to the Jingzhao Prefecture," Yan Congzheng ordered with a wave. Li Ce and Ye Jiao nodded, and the city guards surrounded the pair, dragging them away toward the magistrate's office.
Yan Congzheng sheathed his blade and turned to Ye Jiao. She was still bent over, inspecting the child's face. Li Ce cradled the infant tighter and, fishing for praise, declared, "Good thing I saw through their lies."
"Indeed," Ye Jiao replied. "We need to find a physician, quickly."
"I know an excellent one," Li Ce offered.
"Then go," she urged, instinctively pushing him forward.
The fleeting touch of her hand rekindled a memory of times past.
"I'm cold," Li Ce said, exploiting the moment, eyes wide with faux innocence. "I'm terribly afraid of the cold. That red fox cloak of yours looks warm. May I…?"
Her cloak was wide and light—room enough for two beneath it.
Before he could finish, a thick military cloak fell over his head. The outer layer was coarse blue cloth, the lining packed with cotton, heavy and warm—a winter coat of the imperial guards.
Li Ce's shoulders slumped under its weight. It felt like someone had thrown a quilt over him. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, Yan Congzheng stepped between him and Ye Jiao, also casting a glance at the child.
"Your Highness mustn't catch cold. You may borrow my cloak for now. The child cannot be exposed for too long—please, take him back for treatment immediately."
Even as he spoke, Yan Congzheng had already arranged a carriage. With the help of the guards, Li Ce was ushered into it. The coachman cracked the whip, and the carriage surged forward before Li Ce could utter another word.
He pulled back the curtain, cradling the child, and shouted, "Come see the baby—!"
His voice was swallowed by the bustle of Vermilion Bird Avenue. Dodging a braying group of donkeys near the city gate, Ye Jiao asked, "What did he say?"
Yan Congzheng replied, "Likely assuring you not to worry."
Word spread quickly through Zhao Prince's manor: the Prince of Chu had gone to the city guard station to woo a woman… and returned with a baby.
Too fast, wasn't it?
Zhao Wang, Li Jing, rushed into Li Ce's courtyard, pushing open the door and blurting, "Ninth Brother, how have you ended up dividing the child before even getting married?"
Qingfeng, just returning, was equally bewildered. He looked from Li Ce to the child, scratching his head. "Your Highness, you left us behind on the road just a few days ago… Surely even a chicken egg needs more time than that to hatch."
"He's not mine," Li Ce said with a sidelong glance at the child in the physician's arms. "If this were mine and Jiao Jiao's child, he'd be far better looking."
At the sound of the door opening again, Li Ce hurried to retrieve the child—but seeing it was only a maidservant, he stopped and said curtly, "Found him."
"Found?" Li Jing echoed, wearing a grin of amusement. "And what of your beloved heart?"
The image of the flawless couple beneath the Mingde Gate flashed through Li Ce's mind—he'd rushed back for the baby's sake, but now he couldn't catch his breath.
"What heart?" he snapped, then sighed with a forced cough. "It's been gnawed away by worms."
Ye Jiao never came to see the child.
That evening, a message arrived from Liu Yan at the Jingzhao Prefecture. No reports of missing children had been filed, so His Highness was requested to care for the child a few more days. Liu Yan remained his usual curt self—no pleasantries, no mention of medical expenses.
The baby soon recovered, and upon waking, was quiet and well-behaved. Even when Zhao Wangfei sent her maid to play with him, he didn't shy away.
The next day, Li Ce realized this couldn't go on indefinitely. He ordered Qingfeng to carry the child—they would go seek out Ye Jiao.
If she wouldn't come, he'd bring the child to her.
But she wasn't at the guard station, nor at the city gates. When he found Bai Xianyu, the lad reported obediently, "She's at East Market, listening to a storytelling session."
A good sign. Those venues were usually grand teahouses, with raised platforms and waist-high tables for storytellers. The performers stood behind them, striking wooden clappers as they spoke. Enthusiasts filled the hall—some cheered and applauded, others cursed villains aloud. The quieter folk sat in private rooms where a single movement could bring foreheads together.
With Bai Xianyu's precise intel, Li Ce soon found the teahouse. Ye Jiao wasn't in the hall, but the storyteller on stage was brimming with drama—telling her story.
No names were mentioned, but the parallels were unmistakable.
"Last time, we left off at 'The Foolish Young Master Walks Into a Trap; The Clever Maiden Dares the Dark Prison.' Today, we continue with 'The Gallant General Breaks His Shackles to Shield His Love; The Clever Maiden Takes a Bold Step to Prove Her Innocence.'"
"They're telling this one?" Qingfeng stood on tiptoe. "Good! Now I'll finally know what happened!"
The storyteller's voice rang out with theatrical flair:
"The valiant general came to arrest the maiden—at the ornamental gate, the two faced one another. The general was torn with sorrow; the maiden, tearful and pale. He offered his handkerchief and said, 'My dearest love, I take no joy in this—it is the emperor's decree. I'd rather become a pair of birds with you, to fly together through wind and rain. If you perish this day, I shall follow you into death.'
"The maiden, clad in blue with a red cloak, looked up through tears and whispered, 'We were childhood sweethearts, so close to happiness—yet fate has been cruel. If I must tread the path of the dead, promise me this: do not follow. Keep me in your heart. Seek justice. Take vengeance. Drag the traitors before the King of Hell. In our next life, I will find you—and bind myself to you forever. Forever—!'"
"Good heavens…" Qingfeng breathed, moved.
"Tears welled in the eyes of all who listened…"