Chapter Sixty: The Mansion Prison

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Qin Shu glanced toward the corner; the heir apparent remained in the same posture, lying sideways with his back turned to them. By rights, if he had been asleep, the commotion now should have roused him. Thus, it seemed he was deliberately ignoring them.

Lowering his eyelids to conceal his thoughts, Qin Shu answered the nobleman's questions with careful deference.

“Oh? Second Young Master Xue stayed for nearly half an hour. Did you hear what he had to say?”

Qin Shu dared not withhold anything, recounting everything Second Young Master Xue had discussed with him earlier that day. With his head bowed, he couldn't see the expression of Master Gu, but stood respectfully, not daring to show any hint of negligence or disrespect.

“Second Young Master Xue is quite an intriguing figure. I suspect he’ll return tomorrow.”

Qin Shu felt his head would split with dread; if he had to sit with Second Young Master Xue again tomorrow, his fate would surely be sealed!

“There’s nothing more. He simply came to sit for a spell. You may take your rest.”

Outwardly, Qin Shu agreed, but inwardly he thought: While you sit in a cell, how could I ever sleep? Yet he dared not defy him, so he followed the cue and retreated toward the cell’s exit.

Suddenly, a clamor erupted outside. Qin Shu saw Master Gu’s brows knit in displeasure, and felt as if his own heart might stop.

“I shall attend to it at once.”

Apologizing with a bow, Qin Shu turned, his sleeves billowing as he strode from the cell, radiating an air of searching for trouble.

Once he was farther away, his legs trembled beneath him. Liu Bu, though showing some disdain, still reached out to steady the weakened official.

“Thank heavens, Master Gu merely came to probe Second Young Master Xue, not to make trouble for me. What luck.”

Watching Qin Shu pat his chest and stagger along, Liu Bu reminded, “Master Gu only asked what you and Second Young Master Xue discussed, showing no indication of his own stance. But don't forget, he did say Xue is quite a remarkable person.”

“Just polite words; it doesn't mean Master Gu agrees with him.”

Thinking thus, Qin Shu felt lighter, his steps nearly floating.

Liu Bu slapped him back to earth. “Sir, have you considered why Master Gu would come to the cell, late at night, to drink tea and read? And stay so long?”

“Ah, yes, with Master Gu sitting here, who would dare visit the heir apparent? He’s shielding me from much trouble.”

Liu Bu rolled his eyes in secret. “Sir, if Master Gu truly only cared about the discord between the emperor and empress, he wouldn’t bother visiting the heir. He’d simply let things take their course, and with his methods, the heir wouldn't stand a chance.

But he came, and even brought a food box—clearly to visit the heir. You yourself said Master Gu saved him once in public recently. That shows he’s not here to kick someone when they’re down.

Besides, the heir’s case is already fraught with suspicion. You yourself said it could be him, but to kill someone and then refuse to admit it? That’s unlikely.”

Qin Shu nodded. “Having spent time with the heir, I’ve found him to be free-spirited, unconventional, without any airs of royalty, but with a natural grace that shines brilliantly.”

Though Liu Bu hadn’t seen much of him, nor heard much, from Qin Shu’s frequent talk of Jiang Lan, he sensed the man wasn’t as worthless as rumor claimed.

Still, he couldn’t quite agree that he was so outstanding.

After all, holding good cards for years and achieving nothing—neither a ruffian nor a pillar, just another parasite among the nobility.

Liu Bu’s knowledge of Jiang Lan barely extended to the talented Princess Ningyuan. He’d heard that recently the heir spent some time at Lijiang’s Flower Banks, which so angered the princess she and her cousin, the Prince of Yi, intercepted the flower boat...

“…Honestly, I don’t believe the heir would execute a villainous servant without cause. Has the coroner’s report come in?”

Liu Bu snapped back to attention and shook his head. “Not yet. Old Ma is still busy in the morgue.”

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Qin Shu nodded, approaching the cell entrance as the noise grew louder. He frowned. “This voice sounds very familiar.”

Liu Bu pursed his lips; he recognized the commotion at once while still in the heir’s cell, but Qin Shu was always slow on the uptake.

“Is it Aqin?” Qin Shu’s features widened in shock. “What’s she doing here so late?”

Liu Bu rubbed his nose, not wanting to say much in front of her brother, but quietly hinted, “The love of beauty is universal…”

Qin Shu felt a rush of blood, his limbs tingling, as if struck by lightning.

“This is sheer nonsense!”

Ignoring decorum and authority, he rolled up his sleeves and dashed toward the cell gate.

At the entrance stood a stylish young lady in goose-yellow brocade, holding a round orchid fan, her face full of impatience. Her maid was shoving at the constables, trying to get inside, cursing non-stop.

Seeing her brother, Qin Qin’s joy lit up her face. “Brother!”

Her sweet, coquettish call melted half of Qin Shu’s anger. “Why have you come here? It’s late and damp in the cells—not a place for women. Go back at once.”

“I won’t~” Qin Qin clung to her brother’s sleeve, brazenly acting spoiled as if no one else existed.

“Ahem~”

Qin Qin glared at Liu Bu behind her brother, threatening, “Cough again and see what happens—there’ll be nothing for you to eat later!”

Liu Bu covered his mouth, coughing even harder, this time genuinely.

Seeing he wasn’t faking, Qin Qin laughed, hands on her hips. “Serves you right!”

Without waiting for persuasion, she took the food box from Biyer. “That nobleman came tonight, so you’ll surely be busy late. I prepared food and tea to refresh you, so you can solve the case quickly.”

Qin Shu was moved to tears, his expression that of a father watching his daughter grow wise. He wanted to pat her obedient head, but she was already a young lady—no, that wouldn't do.

“Perhaps I owe someone else for this favor, bask in another’s light?”

Qin Shu’s face was awkward as he took the food box, feeling its weight as a thousand catties, his heart awash in bitterness. It felt as if his own garden’s prized cabbage had been snatched by a pig—indeed, fatherhood is not easy.

Qin Qin glared at Liu Bu, then gently comforted her brother, “Don’t listen to that villain. I made it just for you—scallion pancakes and osmanthus tea, your favorites.”

She shot a proud glance at someone else, her smooth chin declaring, “Someone else doesn’t get any.”

“All right, all right, just for me.” Qin Shu was nearly moved to tears. Truly, a little sister is a blessing; his wife was likely sulking in bed or already deep in dreams—not nearly as thoughtful as his sister.

If only their parents were still alive, his marriage would surely have turned out differently.

Qin Shu drifted in thought as Liu Bu quietly mused, “A petty man and a woman are hard to raise, the sages do not deceive.”

While the cell entrance bustled with activity, Jiang Lan’s ears were filled with rushing wind.

He had burned over a dozen spirit-travel talismans to escape at last.

That mortal had been no ordinary person; if he hadn’t repeatedly checked the mortal’s aura, Jiang Lan might have thought his identity was exposed and a minor immortal dispatched to subdue him.

Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but smile wryly.

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He checked the contents of his bag; seeing they were safe, Jiang Lan was reassured. Quietly climbing the city wall’s inconspicuous side, he followed his memory to Sanmu’s residence.

In the small courtyard, Jiang Lan released Sanmu and Qingli.

Jiang Lan’s eyes widened at the scene before him: Qingli, dressed in miserable green brocade, straddled Sanmu’s waist, one hand yanking his beard, the other gripping his wrist—a posture of forceful dominance.

Sanmu lay on the ground, wailing, his cries echoing ceaselessly!

Noticing the abrupt change of surroundings and spotting Jiang Lan, Sanmu burst into tears. “Your Highness, you’ve finally let us out! Heavens, this tree demon is rebelling! Save me, please, save me!”

Jiang Lan cleared his throat, at a loss for words.

Hearing Sanmu’s cry, Qingli realized the change in her surroundings—she found herself in a dilapidated courtyard, messy enough to be called a pigsty.

And her benefactor was here, too.

With a thud, Qingli released Sanmu, leapt down, and joyfully circled Jiang Lan.

“Master, I’m fully healed now.”

She demonstrated her abundant magic, “See, not a trace of demonic energy remains.”

Jiang Lan, initially puzzled, soon understood. He thought: The great god Zhuo Ri is truly generous—not only forging such a space-time vessel with precious divine materials, but even adding a purification function for demonic energy. Perhaps he feared Chifeng would turn to evil after being confined for too long?

Seeing Sanmu rise, Jiang Lan addressed Qingli: “I’ll be busy these days and can’t take you along. Would you stay here with Sanmu?”

“No!”

“No!”

Both shouted in refusal, then glared at each other in outrage.

“With this pigsty, I don’t care for it!”

“Tsk tsk—my humble temple can’t accommodate a great demon like you!”

“Hmph!”

After barely half an hour, Jiang Lan couldn’t fathom what had happened between them. Their hostility was palpable, as if ready to devour each other—could it be something unspeakable?

He looked from one to the other, blinking.

Qingli rolled her eyes at the foul priest and tugged Jiang Lan’s sleeve. “Master, let me follow you. If it’s inconvenient, I’ll transform into a wooden hairpin for you to carry.”

Jiang Lan considered—the aura of fate upon him was intense; mingling it with the tree demon’s energy might be beneficial.

“Very well, let’s do that.”