After breakfast, Qian Jiaoniang casually began clearing the table. Ah Da quickly called in the waiting servant girls outside to come in and clean. Four maids hurried in on light steps, swiftly tidying up the table. But one maid stumbled, spilling the cup of water she was holding all over Qian Jiaoniang.
The maid panicked, fell to her knees, and kowtowed for forgiveness.
Seeing her pale face and relentless kowtowing, Qian Jiaoniang hurried to stop her and had her withdraw. But her clothes could no longer be worn, so she went upstairs to change, with Chunwu following closely behind. Qian Jiaoniang entered her room, and Chunwu did as well, though she kept to the other side of the screen out of propriety. Qian Jiaoniang did not like to be watched while changing.
The windows of the room were shut tight, and on the table the incense burner was curling smoke—likely lit by the cleaning maid. Qian Jiaoniang gave it only a glance, then walked straight to the trunk in the corner to find clothes. This trip had been rushed; the trunk was packed under Xing Muzheng’s orders. Inside, their garments were neatly divided into his and hers, not many in number. Clearly Xing Muzheng did not intend to stay long.
Her hand paused over the clothes. She still could not understand why Xing Muzheng had come to Jiangzi.
She stood up—and suddenly dizziness overtook her, vision blacking out. Such spells happened to her often; when rising too quickly after crouching, her sight would blur, but usually it would pass in moments… This time, she crumpled weakly to the ground, unconscious.
Chunwu suddenly felt a tightness in her chest and shortness of breath. Her instincts screamed that something was wrong. “Madam…” She hurried around the screen, just in time to see Qian Jiaoniang collapse like a fragile willow. Chunwu’s eyes darted to the incense burner in the middle of the table. She quickly covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief, but it was too late—she too fell to the ground.
At that moment, a panel in the corner floor slowly opened. A tall masked man emerged from the hidden door, doused the incense burner with a jug of water, and strode to Qian Jiaoniang’s side. He pinched her face as though inspecting her, a beastlike glint flashing in his eyes. Then he lifted her in his arms. But just as he turned, alertness struck him—a hidden weapon shot straight toward him. He twisted aside with her in his arms, and the weapon struck a porcelain vase by the window, shattering it with a loud crash.
The masked man narrowed his eyes. The maid who should have been felled by the drug still lay on the ground, blood trickling from her lips, staring at him with ferocity. On her wrist was a strap for concealed weapons. He moved to finish her off, but then stopped short, hoisted Qian Jiaoniang onto his shoulder, and quickly disappeared into the secret passage.
Chunwu’s vision blurred. With the last of her strength, she dragged a bench upright, one end thudding heavily to the floor. Then she collapsed, unconscious.
The heavy crash resounded.
Below, Xing Muzheng and the others had already been on guard at the first sound of the shattered vase. As they rushed upstairs, the bench slammed down. Xing Muzheng’s eyes turned sharp as blades. They burst into the room to find Chunwu unconscious on the ground—and his wife gone.
Ah Da splashed water on Chunwu, but the drug was too potent. Water would not wake her. He had to use a silver needle to pierce her acupoint. Li Qingquan opened the window, then spotted the still-damp incense burner on the table. He turned toward Xing Muzheng, whose eyes were already fixed upon it.
Suddenly Chunwu’s eyes flew open. Like a drowning person gasping for air, she sucked in a breath, and stammered out, “Madam… masked man… carried her off… from that corner…”
She pointed to the foot of the bed. Xing Muzheng lunged forward. No secret door was in sight. He stomped hard—the floor resounded hollow beneath.
“Master, there’s a hidden passage!”
Ah Da pried open the floorboards. Xing Muzheng pushed him aside and leapt straight down, face expressionless. Below was a storeroom, piled with tables and benches, a ladder knocked aside. But no one was there. Ah Da and the others jumped down after him. Li Qingquan started toward the door to question the guards outside, but Xing Muzheng barked, “Don’t move!”
Li Qingquan froze mid-step. Xing Muzheng ignored everyone, his cold gaze sweeping the floor. A thin layer of dust lay over the storeroom, undisturbed for some time—except for a line of large men’s footprints across the center. Xing Muzheng followed them. Where they ended, the boards were cleaner, and nearby a ridge of settled dust marked a seam. He stomped again. A hollow echo confirmed it—another secret passage.
They pursued through the underground tunnel. When they emerged through the next hidden door, the sound of whinnying horses hit their ears, along with the pungent smell of stables. The tunnel led straight to the stables. But the place was empty—the one who had taken Qian Jiaoniang had already escaped.
Ah Da snuck a glance at Xing Muzheng’s face—he had never before seen such a sharp, murderous aura.
“After him!”
***
Bao Li sat in his soft sedan chair on the way back to the yamen, still fretting over this “Living Buddha” Xing Muzheng. He thought: a Buddha never climbs the altar without cause, and a Buddha does not easily descend into a small temple. For just two chests of gold to come all the way to Jiangzi himself? That makes no sense. Besides, he has already shed his armor and is only a leisure marquis now—why should he still trouble himself with such matters? What’s stranger still is that he even brought his wife along. What exactly is he here for? Bao Li could not see through it. His heart only beat faster and faster, as if something was about to happen.
Bao Li was lost in thought when suddenly the sedan lurched violently. Startled, he grabbed at his official hat and cursed loudly: “B*stards! Do you mean to throw me to my death?”
“There are assa—” The yamen runner outside did not finish the word before falling silent.
Bao Li’s eyes went wide, his breath caught, and his fat body shrank into a ball. The sedan curtain was yanked open, and Bao Li let out a shriek.
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