IDWBE -Chapter 404 The Hunt

That kind of story was clearly meant to fool people.

The Twelfth Prince was the first not to believe it.

If a secret tunnel had been dug to guard against people, how could it possibly be common knowledge?

If Tang Yi could casually “hear” about it, then others could as well. In that case, there would be no reason for the authorities not to have found it already.

It wouldn’t be their turn to stand here investigating—this place would have been surrounded as tightly as Apricot Blossom House long ago.

Thinking of this, the Twelfth Prince cupped his hands toward Tang Yi and said, “Grandfather, nothing binds people closer than blood, hometown, or shared study. Qi Yong and Qin Yang were classmates; he and you and Xie Zan were from the same examination year. How did the relationship deteriorate so badly?”

Qi Yong was truly ruthless—he spared neither Xie Zan nor Tang Yi.

As for Qin Yang, the Right Censor-in-Chief, he was too trusted by the Emperor for Qi Yong to dare scheme against him.

Tang Yi suddenly snorted and glanced at Zhu Ruorong and Butcher Jiang before curling his lips.

“You and the Crown Prince, Prince Yong, Prince Chu—you are blood brothers. And yet?”

The Twelfth Prince froze.

Indeed.

Among the imperial brothers, who truly got along?

Whether Crown Prince or Prince Yong, each was a formidable character—eager to skin and bone every rival brother.

Even his Seventh Brother, Prince Nanling, and Eighth Brother, Prince Chu, were no less ambitious.

As for his Sixth and Ninth brothers—he couldn’t quite see through them.

His judgment: smiling tigers.

“I am enlightened,” the Twelfth Prince sighed. “All under heaven bustle for profit; all under heaven scurry for gain. Those who walk different paths cannot make plans together.”

He paused. “So Qi Yong is no simple man. But from what I know, he is highly talented, skilled at endurance. Even if lustful, shouldn’t he restrain himself at a time like this?”

He truly didn’t know where his “cheap grandfather’s” confidence came from—that they would certainly find Qi Yong.

Tang Yi smiled.

“Qi Yong lost his father young. He and his widowed mother relied on each other. He rose at dawn at the rooster’s crow, studied until late, even hanging himself from beams and pricking his thigh to stay awake. That shows ability—he knows when to hold back and when to advance. But lust—that is his nature. Rivers and mountains may change; one’s nature does not.”

The Twelfth Prince nodded thoughtfully. “Yes… a person rarely changes his true nature.”

Tang Yi continued, “The authorities have followed the trail of missing respectable women and locked onto brothels across the city. That part even surprised me. If there is any brothel in Ankang City suitable for Qi Yong to hide in, it would likely be Apricot Blossom House.”

Butcher Jiang couldn’t help interrupting.

“Lord Tang, I listened earlier. If more than Qi Yong knew about this tunnel—like Lord Qin Yang surely did—wasn’t he afraid of being reported?”

Before Tang Yi could respond, the Twelfth Prince answered coolly, “What my grandfather can think of doesn’t mean Qin Yang would. Since you don’t understand, stop guessing.”

Butcher Jiang replied flatly, “Your Highness is wise.”

In truth, he simply didn’t want to argue.

This Prince Yong’an was poor beyond measure—yet still putting on airs before him!

If not for status constraints, he would have loved to punch him.

Lineage? Sure, the prince outranked him.

But in wealth? He could beat the prince until his own parents wouldn’t recognize him.

Zhu Ruorong leaned forward eagerly.

“Lord Tang, what do we do now? Just give the word—we won’t hesitate!”

Unlike Butcher Jiang, he had fewer complicated thoughts.

As long as there was profit to be gained, that was enough.

Tang Yi looked at them and said slowly, “Qi Yong has operated in court for decades. If he can escape the authorities now, he surely has accomplices. If you wish to capture him, relying on just the two of you won’t suffice.”

“Then we call more men?” Zhu Ruorong asked.

Lai Kuan quickly interjected, “If you mean officials—forget it.”

“You’re underestimating us,” Zhu Ruorong snorted.

At Butcher Jiang’s nod, he put his thumb and forefinger into his mouth and let out a piercing birdcall that echoed over the Imperial Academy.

Moments later, birdcalls responded from the nearby woods.

“See?” Butcher Jiang grinned. “My brothers answered.”

Lai Kuan shook his head like a rattle drum. “Impossible. One whistle and they all come? Who are you fooling?”

“Watch.”

Butcher Jiang clapped rhythmically.

Before long, to Lai Kuan and the Twelfth Prince’s astonishment, over fifty men emerged from the woods—bare-chested or in short shirts, their dark skin gleaming under the sun. Clearly hardened laborers.

“You bring this many men out regularly?” Lai Kuan asked.

“None of your business,” Butcher Jiang retorted. “Every one of them is Second Rank or above. Pick any one—they could beat you senseless.”

The past two days, he and Zhu Ruorong had mobilized heavily to investigate. They traveled with a large group to ensure they wouldn’t suffer losses.

“Impressive,” the Twelfth Prince murmured, both envious and shocked.

Even butchers commanded more force than he did!

He glanced at Lai Kuan beside him and felt sudden sorrow.

Was he truly a prince—or a fake one?

Zhu Ruorong beamed. “Your Highness is too kind. What are your orders?”

Tang Yi nodded. “Since you insist on helping, I won’t stand on ceremony. Follow me.”

He led them along the wall of the Imperial Academy into a peach grove.

“How about it?” Zhu Ruorong asked Butcher Jiang.

“We’ve come this far. No turning back.”

With a wave of his hand, the men followed, wooden staves in hand.

After winding turns, Tang Yi stopped beside a large well.

Zhu Ruorong peered in. Stagnant water. Floating dead branches and leaves.

“Doesn’t look like an exit,” he muttered.

Tang Yi crouched, poked at ant holes in the soil with a stick, and smiled.

“Fetch me a thicker stick.”

Zhu Ruorong chopped down a peach tree in one blow and handed him the trunk.

Tang Yi, accidentally smearing sticky peach resin on his hand, paid no mind. He tapped rhythmically around the well’s edge, moving from spot to spot.

Everyone was baffled.

After a while, he stopped.

“What does this mean?” the Twelfth Prince asked.

Tang Yi explained, “Where there are peach trees, there are many earthworms. If you want bait for fishing, strike the ground with true energy—the worms can’t endure it and wriggle out. But here—none.”

“But I don’t see any worms anyway,” Butcher Jiang said.

“Exactly. That’s the problem.” Tang Yi stomped lightly. “If we follow the wormless path, we’ll find the tunnel’s exit.”

“You don’t know the exit either?” Butcher Jiang began—

“Over here!” someone shouted.

A subordinate pointed upward.

Dangling from a large locust tree was a woman, rope around her neck, swaying.

Below, a filthy drainage ditch overflowed with foul water and trash.

“Someone hanged herself,” Butcher Jiang said, startled despite himself.

Tang Yi examined the corpse calmly.

“This is murder, not suicide.”

“Why?” asked the Twelfth Prince.

“If she hanged herself, her toes would droop downward. But these toes face outward—stiff. Only after death would the body hang so rigidly.”

Zhu Ruorong sighed. “Such a beautiful woman. What a waste.”

Tang Yi lifted a rag near the ditch with his stick and smiled.

“This is it.”

Without further explanation, he traced the ditch upstream to a dark culvert spewing black sewage.

“Do we crawl in?” the prince asked, covering his nose.

“Wait.”

Tang Yi stripped down to his undergarments and prepared to enter.

“Hold on!”

Zhu Ruorong stopped him and called out, “Skinny Monkey!”

A thin man stepped forward.

“You’re the best fighter. You go. We’ll back you up.”

Skinny Monkey hesitated. “He Jixiang said capturing the assassin would earn merit. Forget merit—how about a hundred taels?”

“If we catch him, I’ll give you five hundred!” Zhu Ruorong snapped.

“Deal!”

Like a loach, Skinny Monkey slipped into the dark tunnel.

Zhu Ruorong followed cautiously.

Night fell.

Ankang City’s curfew eased; the night market bustled despite recent searches.

At a tea stall, Lin Yi brushed moths away from the kerosene lamp.

Jiao Zhong poured wine. “Your Highness, too many mosquitoes. Shall we return?”

“Such a long night, yet no sleep,” Lin Yi sighed. “A man’s life is simple—by day, think how to make money; by night, who to drink with; at midnight, why the wildflowers smell so sweet.”

Jiao Zhong had no idea how to respond.

Lin Yi took a sip. “Still no assassin caught?”

He Hong knelt. “Your Highness, I am incompetent. Please punish me.”

Lin Yi waved him off. “You know that already. Get moving. I’ll give you a few more days. Fail again, and go farm.”

Suddenly, a sharp whistle pierced the air.

“Alert!” Jiao Zhong shouted.

Guards flooded the area.

Explosions erupted in the sky, fireworks lighting half the city.

Lin Yi narrowed his eyes.

“They’ve finally jumped out. If we can’t catch them now, that’s incompetence.”

The Capital Camp mobilized. Then the military bureau, the Court of Judicial Review, Ankang Prefecture—all deployed.

In the dark, chaos stirred.

Wei Yishan, Liu Kan, and Cao Xiaohuan stared at the towering flames consuming Apricot Blossom House.

“Do these bastards fly or burrow?” Zhou Xun growled. “We catch small fry—but not the big ones!”

Wei Yishan snorted. “Flying? Unlikely. Burrowing? Very possible.”

“Burrowing?” Liu Kan frowned.

Wei Yishan shouted, “Dig up the drainage canal beneath! I want to see what rats are hiding there!”

“Yes!”

Soldiers and constables, furious after days of frustration, smashed their blades, hammers, and shovels into the stone pavement.