“Rest assured, the Yan Family has assigned dedicated protectors to every member—except…” He deliberately paused for effect.

Chu Ruoyan pressed, “Except who?”

“Except Third Yan. As you know, he hardly needs my men for protection.”

That was true. The shadow by Yan Zheng’s side was the top assassin in the realm. If Imperial Son-in-law Cao dared target him, the concern wouldn’t be whether Yan Zheng would be harmed, but whether Imperial Son-in-law Cao would survive the encounter.

Just as Chu Ruoyan let out a relieved breath, Young Master Lang’s teasing, malicious voice chimed in again: “Oh, and Third Yan’s little nephew—I didn’t assign anyone to watch him either…”

“What?!”

Chu Ruoyan shot to her feet. Young Master Lang shrugged. “If Cao Dong seeks revenge against the Yan Family, who better to target than the boy? A defenseless child—perfect as a hostage, and an excellent bargaining chip against Third Yan. If I were him, I’d pick the same.”

With every word, Chu Ruoyan’s face paled further, until it was frost-hardened. “Young Master Lang, you’re deliberately using Yan Wenjing as bait!”

“And if I am? It’s the simplest, most direct way to gather proof. You and Third Yan might hesitate, but I won’t.” Young Master Lang snapped his fan shut, his peach-blossom eyes glinting with cruelty. “Not just Yan Wenjing’s life—if it serves my purpose, I’d sacrifice my own without a second thought. Little Blind One, if you lack such resolve, you’ll never achieve greatness!”

Chu Ruoyan’s heart clenched.

At that moment, Meng Yang vaulted over the wall, his face frantic. “Miss Chu, has Young Master Wenjing come here?”

Her brows furrowed. He continued, “After school today, we went to fetch him as usual, but Teacher Tang from the Imperial Academy said someone had already picked him up! The guards assigned to protect him are missing too—we thought you had sent someone!”

Chu Ruoyan whipped her head around, her gaze icy as it locked onto Young Master Lang. “What’s your next move, Guild Master?”

“Move? What move?”

“You wouldn’t use Wenjing as bait without a backup plan!”

Young Master Lang’s eyes crinkled in satisfaction. “Ah, you do understand me, Little Blind One. Let’s go—time to see where Cao Dong has taken him.” He then turned to Meng Yang. “Where’s your master? His precious treasure is missing—shouldn’t he come see for himself?”

Meng Yang, piecing things together from Chu Ruoyan’s words, barely restrained his fury. “The young master was summoned to the palace this morning and still doesn’t know! Guild Master Lang, our master entrusted the safety of his entire household to you out of trust. If anything happens to Young Master Wenjing, forget alliances—this will become a blood feud!”

Young Master Lang merely hummed, indifferent.

About half an incense stick’s time later, a white pigeon fluttered into the Duke of Chu’s Mansion’s rear courtyard.

He untied the note from its leg and scanned it. “Let’s go. West Gate.”

The West Gate was the most desolate of the capital’s four gates, leading to the treacherous Cuiping Mountain. Few ever passed through it.

When Chu Ruoyan and the others arrived, members of the Hundred Knowledge Pavilion had already surrounded a carriage.

Four lean, wiry men—likely Imperial Son-in-law Cao’s lackeys—crouched nearby, hands on their heads.

Chu Ruoyan ignored them, striding straight to the carriage. “Wenjing! Wenjing, are you in there?”

A portly merchant nearby chuckled. “Don’t worry, miss. This is the only carriage that took the Yan Family’s young master. We tracked it all the way here and intercepted it—he’s definitely inside.”

Without a word, Chu Ruoyan reached to lift the carriage curtain—

In a flash, a cloud of blinding powder burst toward her.

She instinctively held her breath and recoiled, but Young Master Lang yanked her back, snapping his fan open to deflect the powder.

A muffled groan—the assailant hiding inside toppled out, dead before he hit the ground, his throat slit by the fan’s edge.

The crouching men exchanged disappointed glances. Even this had failed to take down a single target.

The portly merchant dropped to his knees, pale-faced. “Guild Master, forgive us!”

Young Master Lang ignored him, eyeing Chu Ruoyan. “You alright?”

She nodded. Though the powder had been thick, she’d avoided most of it.

Shaking off his grip, she pulled the curtain aside—

Her pupils dilated. Young Master Lang’s expression darkened instantly. “Where is he?!”

The merchant peeked inside. Aside from two dead Yan Family guards, the carriage was empty.

“Impossible!” he cried. “We followed them the whole way—no one got out!”

Meng Yang pushed past them. “Young Master Lang! Is this your so-called foolproof plan?!”

Young Master Lang’s gaze sharpened as he turned to the captives. “Where did you take him?”

The four remained silent. His fan flicked.

Blood sprayed. The nearest man collapsed.

“I have no patience. Where is he?”

The remaining three exchanged glances—another flick, another corpse.

The last two panicked. One stammered, “If I talk, will you let me—”

A spurt of blood splattered across the final man’s face. Screaming, he shrieked, “Cuiping Mountain! He’s at Cuiping Mountain!”

Young Master Lang lowered his fan. Chu Ruoyan murmured, “Cuiping Mountain?”

Meng Yang suddenly gasped. “That’s where the flood happened twenty years ago! That’s where Princess Ansheng saved our young master—and lost her own child!”

Chu Ruoyan’s blood ran cold.

Twenty years ago, Princess Ansheng saved Yan Zheng there and miscarried. Was Imperial Son-in-law Cao planning to make Yan Zheng lose his last remaining kin in the same place, two decades later?

“Meng Yang, go to the magistrate’s office immediately. Report that bandits have kidnapped the Yan Family’s heir and demand troops for rescue!”

Meng Yang understood—only by alerting the authorities could word reach the palace and Yan Zheng, still trapped inside.

“Understood. But the rescue—”

Chu Ruoyan leveled a cool stare at Young Master Lang. “Whoever caused this oversight should fix it. Don’t you agree, Guild Master?”

Young Master Lang glared at the merchant and his men, who hung their heads in shame.

“Relax. I’ve never lost bait yet. This is on me.”

The Hundred Knowledge Pavilion’s leader never broke his word. Only then did Meng Yang leave to alert the officials.

Young Master Lang turned to Chu Ruoyan. “Little Blind One, you should go back—”

Her voice was frost. “I don’t trust you.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep