“Young man, quickly, what is that missing stanza?”

“We finally get to see such a poem, and you’ve forgotten a whole stanza. You’re going to keep us up all night!”

The scholars and literati, talking over each other, had long forgotten about the ‘betrayal of Prince Jing’. They insisted on pressing Chen Ji to recall the incomplete poem.

To them, a missing part in a good poem was like a beautiful woman with half her face veiled—tantalizing and unbearable.

A “Po Zhen Zi” (Breaking Formation Song), seemingly a ‘heroic verse’ of a general pouring his heart out, actually conveyed the ‘grief’ and ‘regret’ of unfulfilled ambitions. When drunk, he seemed to be that young general once more, with cold glints of swords in his tent and the continuous blare of horns outside.

Waking from a drunken dream, the soldiers and battlefields were gone. His bowstring was unstrung and put away, leaving only his greying hair.

Pitiful, lamentable.

Zhang Zhuo and Zhang Xia looked at Chen Ji from within the crowd.

Only the father and daughter knew that after Chen Ji left this poem for Prince Jing, he would never be able to write another line of poetry or verse in his life.

Zhang Zhuo stepped forward, patted his shoulder, and whispered, “This is difficult for you.”

Chen Ji smiled. “It’s fine.”

Zhang Zhuo’s eyes darted. “Did you truly forget a stanza, or is the content taboo and can’t be written?”

Chen Ji said softly, “I truly forgot.”

Chen Ji wasn’t lying; he wasn’t skilled in literary arts. The poems he’d given to the Crown Prince before were also half-lines at a time. It was already difficult to remember most of this poem, and before writing it, he was afraid he’d written or remembered a line incorrectly.

He truly forgot.

At this moment, General Wang, seeing everyone discussing poetry, stepped forward and said coldly, “Lord Zhang, may I speak with Chen Ji alone?”

Zhang Zhuo did not back down. “No. General Wang, you tried to pin the blame on Chen Ji without knowing the facts. How do you account for that?”

Chen Ji pulled Zhang Zhuo’s arm. “Lord Zhang, let me chat with General Wang for a few moments.”

Zhang Zhuo glanced at him, flicked his sleeve, and turned to walk aside. Xiao Man and Zhang Xia also moved further away.

General Wang approached, standing about a foot away from Chen Ji. He narrowed his eyes slightly and whispered, “You reacted quickly, boy.”

Chen Ji smiled. “You flatter me, General Wang.”

General Wang said gravely, “You and I both know what was on the blood letter. What do you think the Secret Service will do when they hear what was said today? Once everyone learns that you didn’t write the poem on the blood letter, do you think you can escape the infamy?”

Chen Ji’s gaze lowered slightly.

A blood letter?

Currently, the Secret Service only publicly claimed that Prince Jing committed suicide out of fear of his crimes, and the case was still under investigation. As for the progress of the investigation or the evidence gathered, everything was kept secret.

Originally, the Secret Service intended to use Consort Yun to supplement the evidence; once they conclusively proved Prince Jing’s estate colluded with the Jing Dynasty, the crime of treason would be solid. But now, Grand Secretary Liu, who could prove this, had hanged himself, Consort Jing had died by hitting a pillar, and Consort Yun had seemingly vanished without a trace.

All the evidence was now incomplete.

Bai Long, however, did possess Prince Jing’s blood letter, but its content only proved that after Prince Jing was framed and imprisoned, he had attempted to have the Imperial Guard break him out for self-preservation. Even if this blood letter were revealed, in the eyes of the civil official faction, it would not be directly related to treason; it would clearly show that the eunuch faction persecuted loyal officials first, and Prince Jing acted in self-defense afterward.

Therefore, Bai Long suppressed the matter of the blood letter, treating it as if it never existed, and the case of Prince Jing’s alleged treason became a cold case.

This was also why Bai Long could help Chen Ji save the Princess, preventing her execution.

At one point, Chen Ji also pondered a question: why was Bai Long, such a meticulous person, so full of errors and oversights when it came to convicting Prince Jing? Bai Long was present when Grand Secretary Liu hanged himself and Consort Jing died by hitting a pillar; why didn’t he save these two key witnesses?

Was it Bai Long’s intention, or a genuine oversight amidst his busy schedule?

If Bai Long indeed intentionally turned this into a cold case, what was his motive?

As for the blood letter…

As long as Bai Long needed Chen Ji to remain undercover in the Chen family, he would cover for him.

General Wang’s biggest oversight today was not knowing that Chen Ji had already pledged allegiance to Bai Long and become the Secret Service’s “Sea Eastern Falcon.”

Chen Ji looked up at General Wang. “General Wang, you should look after yourself. Those who betray their masters for glory never come to a good end.”

General Wang sneered. “Young men are always quick with threats. It’s useless. I’ll let you live a bit longer.”

With that, he turned and left, taking a seat in the main hall.

Xiao Man finally dared to approach, muttering softly, “Young master, he slandered you! Are you just going to let it go?”

Chen Ji smiled helplessly. “What else can I do? He’s a fifth-rank General of Martial Virtue in the Imperial Guard, and I’m just a bastard son of the Chen family. What can I do to him?”

Xiao Man was indignant. “Is a fifth-rank general so great? I dared to talk back to him! Why do you always let people bully you, young master…”

During the banquet, Zhang Zhuo seemed to want to ease the tension, continuously urging General Wang to drink.

In the main hall, General Wang sat at the long table, feeling puzzled. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Zhang Zheng at the nearby table of the younger generation, plying Chen Ji with drink after drink.

In just the time it takes for two incense sticks to burn, Chen Ji was overcome by the alcohol and fell asleep on the table.

Zhang Zhuo pulled General Wang and teased, “General Wang, why are you looking at others? Drink up, drink up!”

General Wang withdrew his gaze and glanced at the wine cup in Zhang Zhuo’s hand. “Lord Zhang certainly has a capacity. How do you drink as if it’s water? I hope it’s not actually water.”

Zhang Zhuo feigned anger. “General Wang, you can say my character is bad, but you cannot say my drinking ability is bad! Taste it!”

General Wang took the cup and took a small sip. It truly was authentic thirty-year-old Huadiao wine. “It was my petty mind that wronged Lord Zhang. I will punish myself with three cups.”

Zhang Zhuo said earnestly, “General Wang, I know you’re feeling down, which is why I’m drinking more with you. This wine is a good thing; after drinking it, you’ll forget all your troubles.”

General Wang remained impassive. “Why would I be troubled? Lord Zhang, please don’t urge me to drink anymore. I am a military commander; how can I get drunk?”

Zhang Zhuo looked puzzled. “With such a major incident happening at Prince Jing’s estate, aren’t you troubled, General Wang? If you’re not, wouldn’t your loyalty be fake? Don’t worry, General Wang, if you get drunk occasionally, no one will say anything.”

General Wang’s heart tightened, and he quickly said, “Lord Zhang truly understands me! Drink up, drink up!”

By the time the drinking ceased, it was evening. Most of the guests at the Zhang residence had departed, save for a few who were heavily drunk.

General Wang looked at Zhang Zhuo, who was slumped over the table, then swayed to his feet and walked behind Chen Ji.

He patted Chen Ji’s shoulder, and seeing he didn’t wake him, his expression grew gloomy. His hand on his sword hilt, he pondered for a long time, then walked unsteadily outside, where armored guards helped him into the carriage waiting at the gate.

He looked back into the depths of the Zhang residence. The guests had all dispersed, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened today, just like any other calm day.

General Wang settled into the carriage, exhaled a breath of alcohol, and sobered his expression. “Return to camp.”

The carriage slowly drove away, escorted by more than ten armored Imperial Guard cavalrymen.

Zhang Zhuo listened to the sound of carriage wheels rolling outside the gate, then sat upright, hiccupping. He clapped his hands, and Zhang Zheng and Chen Ji immediately rose.

Chen Ji’s gaze swept over the drunken guests in the hall before he silently rose.

Zhang Zheng had already changed into a black tunic identical to Chen Ji’s and was now slumped in the spot where Chen Ji had been.

Chen Ji cupped his hands to Zhang Zhuo. “Thank you for your hard work, Lord Zhang.”

Zhang Zhuo lowered his voice and chuckled. “What hard work? I can drink a thousand cups and not get drunk. General Wang is far from my match in drinking. As for you, I drank wine, and you drank water, but you don’t realize that the one who stays sober until the end at a drinking table is the one who works the hardest. No more chatter, go.”

Chen Ji picked up a cloth bundle and headed towards the back gate of the Zhang residence. The servants along the way had already been discreetly sent away by Zhang Xia.

Upon leaving the Zhang residence, he went into Red Date Alley. When he emerged, he had removed the hair ornament from his head.

By the time he passed through Ceremony Lane, his black tunic had been replaced with a grey short jacket.

And by the time he passed through Copper Drum Alley, his black leather boots had been replaced with black cloth shoes.

Alley after alley, scene after scene, the Third Young Master of the Chen family had vanished. Chen Ji, like a humble coachman, blended into the crowd.

He needed to reach the South Gate before the carriage.

The sun set in the west, as if drawing the last warmth from the world. Under the night sky, pavilions and terraces stretched endlessly, and lights gradually extinguished, one by one.

Chen Ji sat silently on a grey rooftop ridge, with Wu Yun (Dark Cloud) beside him, ears perked.

Under the moonlight, Luocheng’s alleys were empty. The upturned eaves of the roofs rippled like dark waves into the distance, as if only this one person and one cat remained sitting in the world.

Wu Yun meowed, “General Wang at the banquet, he wanted to pin the blame for betraying Prince Jing on you?”

Chen Ji hummed, “Yes.”

Wu Yun thought for a moment. “Why didn’t you expose him?”

“No need,” Chen Ji said calmly. “Let him have his moment of verbal satisfaction. No matter what he said today, I could handle it, as long as he was willing to leave the Imperial Guard camp.”

For days, General Wang had been holed up in the Imperial Guard camp, surrounded by thousands of soldiers. Killing him there would be harder than ascending to heaven.

Before Chen Ji left Luocheng, he had finally waited for this chance today, and it was his only chance.

Wu Yun meowed, “They’re coming.”

From afar came the sound of hooves and carriage wheels. The Imperial Guard was escorting General Wang towards the South Gate.

Chen Ji drew two Emei daggers from behind his waist. “I’ll go assassinate him. You wait for an opportunity in the dark. Remember, the one named Wang must die by an Emei dagger.”

Wu Yun arched its back and stretched. “I understand.”

The carriage drew closer. The Imperial Guard cavalrymen’s gazes were like knives, scanning their surroundings warily.

However, at this moment, the fur on Wu Yun’s back suddenly bristled. “Meow!”

Taking advantage of the moonlight, Chen Ji looked into the distance and saw a mass of black mist nimbly leaping across the rooftops, like a cunning antelope running across a prairie. It moved unimpeded over the undulating ridges of the pavilions, as if treading on clouds.

It had a goat’s body, a human face, and stood on black auspicious clouds, its cavernous maw on its chest tightly shut.

A Taotie!

It was Chen Ji’s first time seeing the Taotie that Wu Yun had mentioned. If he hadn’t seen the creature devouring people, he wouldn’t have found this monster particularly terrifying.

But why was it here?

He scanned, trying to find the person controlling the Taotie, but he couldn’t find any trace of their hiding place, or even confirm if they were there at all.

The next moment, the Taotie, swift as lightning, chased the Imperial Guard from behind along the rooftops.

The black figure leaped, pouncing down from the rooftop.

As the Imperial Guard cavalrymen rode, a shadow obscured the moonlight above them. By the time they looked up, it was too late.

With a crash, the Taotie collided squarely with the carriage, smashing the wooden vehicle into splinters that scattered everywhere.

General Wang, caught completely off guard inside the carriage, was sent flying out of it, crashing far against a brick wall by the roadside, then falling to the ground.

Chen Ji murmured, “Ferocious!”

In the long street, the Imperial Guard cavalrymen roared, “Protect the General!”

More than ten armored guards rode forward, blocking General Wang. However, surprisingly, the Taotie did not pursue to fight; instead, it turned and ran.

It was like children fighting: one kicks, takes the advantage, and then leaves, gaining a kick with each kick.

It lightly leaped onto the rooftop, stepping on the grey tiles, and disappeared into the night among the undulating ridges. It was as if its appearance here was merely a whim, and once its interest waned, it could happily go home.

Wu Yun: “Oh, wow!”

Chen Ji and Wu Yun lay on the rooftop, dumbfounded, unable to figure out what was going on with this Taotie for a long time.

Moreover, it had first swallowed the official monitoring Chen Ji, and then it had come to crash General Wang’s carriage.

To say this had no connection to Chen Ji was impossible.

Wu Yun meowed, “What now?”

Chen Ji said calmly, “Go down and kill him while he’s injured. Remember, leave no one alive who saw you strike.”

However, just as the man and cat were about to rush down, another figure rapidly approached from the distance, clad in black clothes, black pants, and a black bamboo hat. The figure was exceptionally slender but moved like thunder.

The black-clad person moved without hesitation, as if having meticulously planned a thousand times over. The moment they saw the Imperial Guard, they pounced down from the rooftop to kill.

An Imperial Guard cavalryman drew his saber and slashed, but the black-clad person ducked, flashed past beneath the horse’s belly, and didn’t entangle with the guards at all; they only wanted General Wang’s life!

Another Imperial Guard, seeing this, immediately became furious and spurred his horse forward. The warhorse reared its front hooves high and brought them down on the black-clad person’s path. “Die!”

In a flash, as the black-clad person retreated, they drew two Emei daggers from behind their waist. One of them flew from their hand, passing through the gap between the guard and the warhorse, and embedded itself in General Wang’s shoulder blade!

As General Wang groaned, Wu Yun looked at the remaining Emei dagger in the black-clad person’s hand, then at the two Emei daggers in Chen Ji’s hand…

Chen Ji had originally intended to pin the blame for General Wang’s murder on this person, but he never expected the actual perpetrator to show up and kill him!