Chapter Seven: Mobilizing Without Assigning Blame

In the side chamber of the Kaifeng Prefecture, Zhao Yu sat upright, his demeanor composed and solemn. Li Yan, on the other hand, lounged with one leg crossed over the other, lips curled in a sneer, wearing an expression that seemed to invite trouble, as if daring someone to strike him.

Liu Xiantang stood respectfully to the side. By rights, someone of his rank need not act so deferentially, but the matter of the wanted notice involved an imperial prince, and both the emperor and empress had taken a personal interest. He had no choice but to handle it with utmost care.

Moreover, Liu Xiantang knew well how much the emperor favored Li Yan. If he made a misstep and Li Yan seized upon it, disaster might well befall him.

“Master Liu, how do you propose we resolve this matter? You should know that His Highness, the Prince of Yi, is the empress’s most beloved son. If this is handled poorly, the empress will not be pleased,” Li Yan drawled, his eyes fixed elsewhere, as if conversing with the air.

Liu Xiantang inwardly lamented. How to resolve it? The best course would be to recall all the wanted notices, but then how should he answer to Grand Commandant Gao?

Zhao Yu, aware of Liu's predicament, offered a gentle smile. “Let us do this, Master Liu: invite the painter forth, and have the constables properly interrogate the criminals they apprehended. I suspect the clues provided by these criminals are dubious.”

Zhao Yu’s words instantly enlightened Liu Xiantang, who quickly bowed. “Your Highness is right. I shall see to it at once.”

Indeed—simply reposting the wanted notices would suffice. How could he have been so foolish?

Just as Liu Xiantang was about to give orders, Li Yan interjected in a tone half mocking, half serious, “The name of His Highness is an imperial gift; it cannot be used lightly.”

At that moment, Liu Xiantang truly wished to rush forward and slap Li Yan senseless. This wretched eunuch was insufferable. No portrait, no name—what use was the wanted notice at all?

Though his mind raged, his lips dared not show the slightest disrespect. He answered with utmost deference and went forth to give his orders.

“Your Highness, you are too lenient. Officials like this, unless properly chastised, never learn,” Li Yan complained as soon as Liu Xiantang left.

Zhao Yu was mildly surprised, wondering how else to reprimand him. As he was about to ask, an idea suddenly dawned upon him. He chuckled inwardly, thinking, this is not for me to handle—better leave it to you.

“I am inexperienced, and defer entirely to your judgment, Master Li…”

Soon after, a middle-aged man with the air of a bookish scholar timidly entered from outside.

“Eh! Who are you? Why do you not kneel before His Highness?” Li Yan’s words had barely left his lips when the scholar suddenly pointed at Zhao Yu and cried, “Guards! The notorious outlaw is here… mmph…”

It turned out Liu Xiantang had darted up from below, personally covering the scholar’s mouth. Moments earlier, as Liu Xiantang was instructing his men to recall all the wanted notices, he had neglected the painter he’d summoned. The painter, thinking it was his cue, had wandered in, and the ensuing scene unfolded.

“Mmm…”

Within moments, the painter’s face turned red and his neck strained under Liu Xiantang’s grip. He had never imagined that the dignified Prefect would lay hands on him, nor that Master Liu seemed intent on smothering him.

A court official committing violence in the hall! It was the first time Li Yan had witnessed such a scene and he stood gaping in astonishment.

Zhao Yu, struggling to suppress his laughter, strode forward and pulled Liu Xiantang away, feigning displeasure. “Master Liu, what are you doing? Let go, let go!”

Only then did Liu Xiantang realize his impropriety. He released the painter, who was nearly suffocated, and snapped, “This is His Highness, the Prince of Yi—kneel and apologize at once!”

The painter’s demeanor spoke for itself. Though he seemed a touch simple-minded, his eyes were clear and honest, and his attire modest—clearly not from a wealthy family.

While the painter was still dazed, Zhao Yu spoke first. “Enough, enough. I see your skill is quite good. Would you be willing to come to my residence and teach me to paint?”

This man was talented, and Zhao Yu knew that once he left, Liu Xiantang would not spare him. Thus, he resolved to recruit him.

“Hurry and thank His Highness!” Liu Xiantang could not help but give the painter a kick, wishing this troublemaker as far from him as possible.

Even the most clueless would now understand. The painter was about to kneel, but Zhao Yu caught his arm.

“Go prepare yourself and come to my residence tomorrow.”

“Master Liu, I have matters to attend. I take my leave—should anything arise, speak directly with Master Li.”

“Master Li, I shall be off. Until we meet again!”

Zhao Yu spoke to each in turn, then made his farewells, hands clasped. He and Li Yan had arranged to drink together that evening—but such affairs could not be openly discussed.

Li Yan, Liu Xiantang, and the painter hurried after him to see him off.

The painter’s mind remained muddled; all that had transpired seemed like a dream, and he left Kaifeng Prefecture in a daze, hardly knowing how it had happened…

After respectfully seeing Zhao Yu out, Liu Xiantang turned to see Li Yan’s sinister smile, and his heart sank…

Blackmailing Liu Xiantang, and for how much—these were not Zhao Yu’s concern, for he must maintain his image as a virtuous gentleman.

With only half a day left before dining with Li Yan at the Star Picking Pavilion, Zhao Yu needed to make preparations.

Li Yan was not like Gao Qiu. If trouble befell him, others would suffer as well, but as long as Zhao Yu was not among them, it mattered little.

To be safe, he could not use his own guards for this matter. He would rely on a few trusted companions.

Fat Tiger and Song Zhong were two loyal subordinates Zhao Yu had recruited. They were swift and ruthless in action, and above all, they were devoted to Zhao Yu. After dealing with Bucktooth Chun and his gang the previous night, Zhao Yu had them lie low. However, he had special means of contacting them and could summon them whenever needed.

While Zhao Yu schemed against Li Yan, Gao Qiu received a secret report from Kaifeng Prefecture.

It was impossible to keep Zhao Yu’s comings and goings at Kaifeng Prefecture secret. Even before Zhao Yu departed, the constables were already scurrying about the city, recalling the posted wanted notices. Such a commotion—Gao Qiu could hardly remain unaware.

In the study of the Grand Commandant’s residence, Gao Qiu listened to his subordinate’s report, then waved him away.

Beside Gao Qiu stood a tall, thin scholar, in his thirties, with bean-shaped eyes and a goat’s beard—one look revealed him as a cunning fellow.

“What does Master Wu make of this affair?” Gao Qiu asked, his voice still hoarse from a sleepless night worrying over his son.

Master Wu, full name Wu Zidao, was Gao Qiu’s trusted advisor.

Hearing Gao Qiu’s question, Wu Zidao stroked his beard and squinted. “Grand Commandant, there’s something odd here. I know little of this Prince of Yi, but as soon as Kaifeng Prefecture posted the wanted notices, he went to the palace and brought Li Yan out. Clearly, he’s paying close attention. Yet he’s merely a prince—why such concern for affairs among the common folk?”

Wu Zidao’s words left Gao Qiu silent, though his gaze suddenly grew dark and profound…