Chapter Three: Things Escalate

At this moment, Zhao Yu—now labeled a notorious outlaw—had already returned to his own Prince Yi’s manor under the protection of his guards.

In truth, Zhao Yu had long been aware that guards watched over him in secret; it was, after all, their duty. Besides, having someone covertly looking out for him was hardly a bad thing—he knew his own abilities well enough and saw no need for reckless bravado in that regard.

One had to admit, to serve as Zhao Yu’s guard required nerves of steel. Protecting such a trouble-prone young prince was far more taxing than guarding the emperor himself: whenever Zhao Yu got into trouble, these guards would be the first to bear the blame and face punishment.

Yet Zhao Yu was a generous and loyal soul, never stingy with his rewards. He treated even the street ruffians with a magnanimity that put others to shame, to say nothing of those who served him closely. Their pay was significantly higher than that of guards in other royal manors, and Zhao Yu took meticulous care of their daily needs. So, though his actions were questionable, the loyalty of his guards ran deep—they kept his secrets faithfully.

Upon returning to his study, Zhao Yu immediately summoned Duan Feihe, the captain of the guards.

“Send someone to keep an eye on Kaifeng Prefecture,” Zhao Yu instructed. “Monitor how far their investigation goes. The moment there’s any movement, inform me at once.”

Duan Feihe nodded but could not help but add, “Your Highness, have you not perhaps gone too far this time?”

Zhao Yu smiled faintly. “That brat Gaokan has done enough evil to deserve far worse—no one should be surprised if someone finally took him out. I merely crippled him; he should be grateful, in fact. The authorities at Kaifeng Prefecture won’t treat this like just another street brawl.”

He understood very well that if Kaifeng Prefecture intensified their efforts, some of his people would undoubtedly be caught. But Zhao Yu was always careful: none of his street companions knew his true identity, so even if someone was arrested, they would never be able to trace anything back to him.

Duan Feihe’s lips moved as if he wanted to say more, but in the end, he simply bowed and withdrew.

Zhao Yu knew Duan Feihe wanted to urge caution, but how could Zhao Yu’s real intentions ever be revealed to anyone else?

There are no secrets that remain hidden forever. For now, Zhao Yu’s only goal was to amass enough wealth before others caught on.

After enjoying a late-night snack and a relaxing hot bath, Zhao Yu was just preparing for bed when a maid came to report that Duan Feihe had returned.

As a prince, Zhao Yu was expected to be attended by eunuchs, but he couldn’t tolerate their stench and ambiguous manner. He had pleaded coquettishly with Empress Zheng to have them all removed, so now only young maids served him.

In Zhao Yu’s own words, having a bevy of pretty young girls around was both pleasing to the eye and soothing to the spirit—but that was the extent of it. As a transmigrator, he was hardly so depraved as to prey on girls barely in their teens.

It wasn’t long before Duan Feihe, looking grave, was shown in by a maid.

“Your Highness, the situation is dire!”

Once the maids had withdrawn, Duan Feihe respectfully produced a document from his sleeve and handed it to Zhao Yu.

Zhao Yu took it, glanced at it, and, after a brief moment of surprise, broke into a smile. “The Kaifeng Prefecture works fast! I must meet this artist someday—their skill is impressive.”

What Duan Feihe had given him was a wanted poster, seeking the notorious bandit “Brother Yu,” complete with a portrait of Zhao Yu himself.

Zhao Yu had frequented the streets for quite some time; many people knew his face, so it was no surprise they’d resort to sketching his likeness for a manhunt. What caught Zhao Yu’s attention, however, was the artist’s remarkable talent—just a few descriptions, and the portrait was uncannily lifelike. Truly a talent.

Duan Feihe, however, was anything but amused. “They say Gaokan’s eyes and legs are ruined. Grand Marshal Gao is furious and has dispatched the Imperial Guards to assist the Kaifeng Prefecture constables in a citywide sweep. Anyone even remotely connected to you, Your Highness, has been arrested. The Kaifeng Prefecture’s jails are overflowing. Moreover, the Grand Marshal has given them three days to solve the case—or he’ll file a complaint directly with the emperor.”

“Your Highness, you mustn’t go out for the next few days. Wait until things quiet down.”

It was clear Duan Feihe was genuinely anxious. His concern was understandable: Gao Qiu had been Emperor Huizong’s close companion long before he ascended the throne and was now his most trusted favorite. No wonder Gaokan felt so untouchable.

Imagine—if the emperor learned that Gao Qiu’s son had been crippled, he would certainly side with Gao Qiu. And if Zhao Yu were implicated, the emperor’s favor toward Gao Qiu would guarantee Zhao Yu’s doom. The imperial family was cold and unfeeling; with so many sons, Huizong would hardly miss one more or less.

Zhao Yu waved the wanted poster with a calm smile. “Can they truly convict me on the strength of this alone?”

“It’s late. You should rest as well. Don’t worry—I have my own ways of dealing with this.”

Old Duan was loyal and capable, but a bit too cautious for Zhao Yu’s taste.

Duan Feihe could only bow and withdraw, resigned. It wasn’t that he was timid, but rather that his position required vigilance. Besides, Zhao Yu had shown him great kindness—if the prince’s identity were ever exposed, Duan Feihe would never forgive himself.

Watching Duan Feihe leave, Zhao Yu glanced again at the wanted poster, stamped with the seal of Kaifeng Prefecture, and a trace of mockery flickered across his lips...

A little girl rises at dawn, lifts her trousers, and heads to the latrine...

As the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, Zhao Yu—ever an early riser—stepped out of his room, humming a tune.

His maids had long grown used to their prince’s unpredictable comings and goings and his nonsensical ramblings. In fact, they all considered it an honor to serve such a master.

Everyone knew that, as the close maids of a prince, their lives and deaths were entirely in his hands. But Zhao Yu treated them with rare courtesy, never so much as uttering a harsh word.

Their only concern was that their young master seemed to have certain... deficiencies. After all, at Zhao Yu’s age, other scions of noble families were already fathers, yet their prince still had no consort. Surely, they whispered among themselves, something must be wrong with him physically.

Zhao Yu had no idea he had become the object of such speculation among the girls in the manor. In his mind, making money was the top priority, and maintaining his health was the second—he had no desire to indulge in debauchery so soon.

After jogging a few laps around the manor’s training ground, Zhao Yu pestered the guards into teaching him some basic self-defense moves. He wasn’t a child anymore, and at his age, dreaming of mastering legendary martial arts was pure fantasy—not to mention exhausting. Better not to waste time on such pursuits.

Duan Feihe had tossed and turned all night, and his eyes were bloodshot come morning.

Zhao Yu was about to tease him when hurried footsteps sounded behind him...