After calling out several times with no response, Jing Hengbo felt somewhat embarrassed. What was going on? Her chosen first and second place winners weren’t even responding to her summons—what was the point of this competition?

If they weren’t coming, they weren’t coming. Continuing to wait would only make her more awkward. She was just about to order the end of the competition and return to shore when she suddenly heard someone laugh: “I am Feng Wei, greetings to Your Majesty.”

Jing Hengbo looked up to see someone in the distant shadows under the trees, smiling as he bowed slightly to her.

From such a distance, with the person standing in the shadows, she couldn’t make out his face clearly, only sensing an elegant and refined demeanor.

Most talented scholars had elegant bearing, and she wasn’t particularly interested. She figured this fellow had initially stayed silent and was now coming out to speak—probably another attention-seeking show-off. She lazily hummed acknowledgment and said, “So you finally decided to come out.”

“I’m here to claim my reward,” the person calling himself Feng Wei laughed. “I wonder what prize Your Majesty might offer.”

“You want to see what the reward is before deciding whether to serve under me?” she glanced at him sideways.

Feng Wei smiled without speaking, apparently accepting this interpretation.

The common people and scholars all stared at him in astonishment, unable to believe that after the Daobei scholars had been dealt with so harshly, someone still dared to be so presumptuous.

“I promised you could make your own requests,” Jing Hengbo said. “As long as they’re reasonable and within my power.”

She wondered if this fellow would demand to be made State Preceptor or something. He couldn’t be from the enemy side asking her to commit suicide, could he? She quickly added the qualification about being reasonable.

Feng Wei’s laughter sounded quite casual.

“It’s a small matter,” he said leisurely. “I’ve heard that Your Majesty excels at dance and can perform anywhere, anytime. I regret never having had the fortune to witness this. Might I have this blessing?”

The crowd erupted in excitement again.

Though they hadn’t heard that the Queen excelled at dance, everyone could see she was a beauty, and moreover, her figure clearly showed the exquisite grace that only dancers possessed. The people imagined such a beauty, with such bearing and figure, in such beautiful clothes, dancing under the moonlight—it would surely be an otherworldly performance beyond imagination.

The crowd’s blood boiled with excitement, but Jing Hengbo frowned—what did this mean?

Beside her, Zirui was already angry: “What insolent fool dares insult Your Majesty! What is Your Majesty’s status? How could she perform in public? Are you treating Your Majesty like a singing girl?” As she fumed, she walked toward the stern, wanting to get a clear look at this scoundrel.

Being a modern person with an outgoing personality who loved showing off, Jing Hengbo hadn’t initially thought there was anything wrong with performing in public. But hearing Zirui’s words, she immediately understood the difference in perception between modern and ancient times, and realized this was indeed somewhat inappropriate.

But the other party didn’t seem to have malicious intent. As she gestured for Zirui not to go scold the man, she pondered how to respond. Before she could speak, another voice rang out across the river: “I am Wei Yin, greetings to Your Majesty.”

The voice came from one of the small boats, but no figure could be seen. Even more affected than the previous one.

Jing Hengbo snorted, thinking: what’s this about? When I was looking for people, none appeared, and now they’re all coming out. Don’t tell me this one’s going to ask her to sing too?

She’d actually be happy to sing—she could drive them all crazy with her voice.

“Haha,” she laughed. “What are you coming out for now? Do you also have a request? Will you only show yourself once your demand is met?”

Her tone carried sarcasm, but the other party fell quiet for a moment, then said: “Yes.”

Jing Hengbo was almost laughing with anger.

But the other party remained very calm, seeming completely oblivious to her emotions, saying: “My request is: please never dance for others, Your Majesty.”

Jing Hengbo: “…”

Was he here to sabotage?

From the boat, Pei Shu called out loudly: “What’s wrong with you two? You’re both talking nonsense! Your Majesty won’t dance here, but Your Majesty could dance for…”

Before he could get the word “me” out, Ying Bai and Tian Qi grabbed him from left and right, dragging him away by the neck. Ying Bai held up his wine flask: “Drink, drink!”

Jing Hengbo glanced at the three of them, thinking that Ying Bai and Tian Qi showed remarkable unity when it came to suppressing Pei Shu. What had Pei Shu done to them?

The earlier Feng Wei immediately laughed: “Oh, I was too presumptuous. But whether Your Majesty dances for herself or others is Your Majesty’s freedom. Speaking of being presumptuous, Brother Wei, you’re being presumptuous too.”

Wei Yin’s voice remained flat: “True. Then I’ll just request that Your Majesty never dance for you specifically.”

Jing Hengbo held her chin, saying nothing. These two were clearly here just to oppose each other. Case closed.

“Or I could change my request,” Feng Wei seemed quite agreeable and wasn’t angry at Wei Yin’s targeting. He said to Jing Hengbo: “Please dine with me, Your Majesty.”

Jing Hengbo said nothing, smiling as she glanced at Wei Yin.

Sure enough, Wei Yin said: “Please treasure your precious body, Your Majesty. The Daobei situation is still unstable, enemies surround us, and there will surely be assassination attempts against Your Majesty in the future. Please don’t get close to anyone of unknown origins.”

Jing Hengbo broke into a smile, her eight teeth gleaming white as snow, like a fox that had spotted something interesting.

“Well then,” Feng Wei seemed to gently join the argument, “perhaps Your Majesty could personally copy a poem for me. That ‘Red Delicate Hands’ would be perfect. This request has no danger and requires no proximity—surely Your Majesty wouldn’t refuse even such a small request?”

Jing Hengbo lifted her chin and nodded toward Wei Yin—this fellow wasn’t done yet.

She was very curious to know what Wei Yin would say this time. Feng Wei’s request was completely reasonable.

The common people, who had been drowsy and ready to leave, now became interested and stopped to watch, their eyes gleaming with gossip—it looked like a rivalry over a woman!

Wei Yin said: “When people give poems to people, naturally bird poems should be given to birds. Since this poem was written by a bird, there’s no reason for a person to copy bird poetry for another person. Please don’t accept any insults from those of unknown origins, Your Majesty, and please don’t seek insults, Brother Feng.”

Jing Hengbo, who was drinking water, sprayed it all over Yong Xue.

What a poisonous tongue! Did he come with built-in venom?

Er Gouzi struggled to poke his head out, raised a paw, and pointed at the boat while cursing: “What’s wrong with birds writing it? What’s wrong with birds? You dare look down on us? Try writing one yourself!”

Wei Yin said: “So this poem was written by Your Majesty?”

“Of course not,” Jing Hengbo immediately denied.

The crowd below chuckled. This was really something—though everyone knew the poetry was Your Majesty’s, Your Majesty insisted on crediting it to the bird.

People’s thinking patterns worked like that. The more Jing Hengbo denied it, the more everyone attributed it to her.

Feng Wei continued smiling under the tree and said to Er Gouzi: “Lord Dog’s talent is impressive and admirable. Brother Wei’s wit is also brilliant and worthy of respect. So I’d like to ask Lord Dog to compose a poem, and I’ll present it as a borrowed offering to Brother Wei. Please agree, Lord Dog.”

“Yes, yes!” Er Gouzi, thrilled to have a use for his heroic talents, immediately said proudly: “Two orioles singing…”

Jing Hengbo slapped him down with one palm.

She wasn’t worried about Wei Yin being embarrassed, but about Er Gouzi getting into trouble.

The crowd’s chuckling had turned to loud laughter—Wei Yin was brilliant, but Feng Wei was no less so. This response to Wei Yin’s “bird poems for birds” comment directly called Wei Yin a bird.

Wei Yin didn’t seem angry either, saying in his flat tone: “Since it’s two orioles, Brother Feng must have a share too. Let’s all enjoy together.”

“Enjoy together, enjoy together,” Feng Wei also laughed. He really had good composure and didn’t seem interested in arguing with Wei Yin. He changed his request again: “Then please promise me, Your Majesty, that if I ever do something wrong in the future, please forgive me once.”

This time everyone looked toward the small boat, thinking surely this couldn’t be refuted?

The boat fell quiet for a moment, then the same unhurried voice emerged: “I’ve thought of my request too. Please promise me, Your Majesty, that as long as I don’t betray you, please always trust and support me.”

At first hearing, this didn’t seem to target Feng Wei, but on reflection, it still did—if Feng Wei made a mistake, according to his request, Jing Hengbo could forgive him once, but according to Wei Yin’s request, if he opposed forgiveness, Jing Hengbo couldn’t forgive Feng Wei.

Among the crowd, Chang Fang and several other old men whispered among themselves.

“These two young men are formidable. Both have excellent debating skills and could serve as first-rate military advisors.”

“I think these two aren’t really making requests—they seem to be deliberately competing, showing off their talents before the Queen, trying to outdo each other.”

“I don’t think so. The winner is already decided—according to the Queen’s registration order, Wei Yin comes before Feng Wei. Even if they wanted to compete, it should be Feng Wei who’s dissatisfied and deliberately arguing with Wei Yin, but it’s the opposite. Moreover, though we can only hear their voices, both men have dignified bearing and are clearly not ordinary people. They don’t seem like the type to bicker pointlessly. There must be deeper meaning here.”

“I agree with Old Qu. These two are definitely not simple characters. Let’s just watch.”

…

Feng Wei seemed about to say something else, but Jing Hengbo couldn’t stand it anymore.

How long would these two keep arguing?

She still wanted to go home and sleep!

“Granted, granted! All granted!” She waved her hand and yawned. “Do you two want to…”

Before she finished speaking, she suddenly heard a soft “splash.”

The sound was light, coming from the other side of the boat—the side facing the great river.

Jing Hengbo’s heart jumped. She suddenly felt something was wrong. Turning her head, her gaze quickly swept over the crowd beside her, and she immediately asked: “Where’s Zirui?”

Earlier, Zirui had walked to the stern to look at Feng Wei but had never returned.

Jing Hengbo’s figure flashed as she rushed to the stern. Zirui wasn’t there. She asked a guard stationed at the stern, who pointed behind the spiral stairs: “I saw Miss Zirui go over there.”

That position was a blind spot, facing away from everyone on the riverbank, and for security, Jing Hengbo had blocked off the side facing the river. All the small boats and people were on her opposite side—no one could see or reach the back of her boat.

The back of her boat also had guards, but no Zirui. Jing Hengbo questioned the guards, who said: “We didn’t see Miss Zirui come over.”

“Have you been here the whole time?” Jing Hengbo asked. “Did you leave at any point?”

“No. But earlier we were collecting scattered arrows from the boat and did crouch down to pick some up.”

Jing Hengbo knew this was bad. Looking at the river surface, by rights, if someone had taken Zirui and swum away after she heard the splash and rushed over, there should be bubbles or traces on the water surface, but now the river was very calm.

So most likely, Zirui had been taken off the boat earlier, and that splash was something else—or perhaps a signal to her.

By now the others had also arrived, all looking grim. To have someone abducted from a boat full of experts was humiliating.

At the time, everyone’s attention had been on the shore. With so many people, they feared assassins might emerge anywhere, while the back faced the river with nothing visible for dozens of miles. The boat’s occupants were all facing the river bank side, so they’d relaxed their vigilance toward the back. Who would have thought Zirui would go to the back?

Tian Qi asked: “Should we search the people?”

Ying Bai immediately said: “With so many people on shore, if we detain and search everyone, it might cause unrest or at least resentment.”

Jing Hengbo’s thoughts raced, and she immediately understood the enemy’s purpose in abducting Zirui. Threatening her was one aspect, but they could also cause chaos and destroy the admiration and goodwill the people had just built for her—if she couldn’t even protect her own people and then had to harass the citizens.

This group was quite patient. During the earlier battle with Lingxiao Gate, when arrows filled the sky, they didn’t strike. Later, when Jing Hengbo was critiquing essays and dealing with assassins in all the chaos, they still didn’t act. They waited stubbornly until everything settled, all was calm, and everyone naturally relaxed their guard before striking successfully.

The enemy was formidable, knowing that abducting someone close to the Queen would damage her credibility or put her in a bind more than taking scholars or citizens hostage.

Jing Hengbo even suspected that Chi Ming had been used by them. When Chi Ming initially arranged their battle, he seemed confident, but where did that confidence come from? Later he was defeated quickly, as if unprepared.

He might have been played too.

But who this group might be was impossible to gauge. Here in Daobei, she was surrounded by enemies on all sides—the Sixteen Guilds, the Daobei clan leaders, any of them could strike against her. Maybe even the Nine Heavens Gate could be added to the list.

Everyone was looking at her, waiting for her decision on whether to detain and search the people.

Though she hadn’t officially become the Black Water Queen yet, everyone around her was shrewd and naturally treated her as such, establishing her authority. She had once worried about how to create class distinctions after being friends with everyone along the way. Without distinctions, the Queen would lack authority, but creating them would be awkward and difficult to bring up. Unexpectedly, these people naturally established the hierarchy without her hints. Even Pei Shu wouldn’t speak carelessly when important matters arose.

Thinking about it, this wasn’t strange—most had navigated officialdom and courts. How could they not understand?

Jing Hengbo didn’t speak immediately. She had someone summon Er Lu, who was patrolling on shore, and stared at the water surface as if waiting for something.

No one urged her to decide quickly; they all waited silently.

After a moment, Jing Hengbo saw bubbles beginning to form on the water surface. A large school of silver fish suddenly appeared underwater, first swimming in circles, then forming an arrow formation pointing straight toward a specific direction in the river’s center.

“Well?” Jing Hengbo asked Er Lu.

“Such obvious beast language and you can’t understand it?” Er Lu rolled his eyes dramatically. “Go in the direction the arrow points.”

Jing Hengbo immediately said: “They’re not going by land. Disperse the crowd and suppress the news.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing the assassins and Zirui wouldn’t be hiding among the people was good—at least they didn’t need to detain citizens and cause unrest.

It made sense too—the assassins taking Zirui through the river center was most likely. To bring someone through this stretch of river under their noses and then blend into the crowd to leave would be too difficult.

“How do you know they went by water?” Tian Qi asked curiously.

“Zirui learned beast control,” Jing Hengbo said simply. “She can make fish, insects, birds, and beasts perform simple actions. These fish were probably directed by her, meaning she hasn’t completely lost her freedom and her mind is still clear.”

Zirui had learned beast control from Er Lu. She had naturally superior hearing, and the essence of beast control was capturing and using various sound frequencies that ordinary people couldn’t hear to control animals. So she utilized her strengths in learning this art. This was also a self-protection method that female officials serving the Queen needed to learn first when in danger.

The people on shore began to leave, unaware of what had happened on the boat. They departed excitedly, discussing as they went. Qi Sha led the guards with sharp eyes but indeed found no suspicious persons.

Jing Hengbo kept the ten selected scholars, feeling these people might not be above suspicion either, especially Wei Yin and Feng Wei.

The scholars boarded the boat, but Feng Wei and Wei Yin weren’t among them. Jing Hengbo ordered a search but found nothing. Feng Wei had probably mixed with the crowd and left, while Wei Yin’s boat should have been registered, but oddly, no record could be found.

Neither had shown their true faces, so there was no way to search for them now. Jing Hengbo snorted: “They’re definitely spies!”

“Not necessarily,” Ying Bai said. “At least when Zirui was abducted, they were talking with you and couldn’t possibly have acted.”

“Zirui was abducted precisely while I was talking with them. These two deliberately argued, deliberately threw out those strange requests, just to draw our attention and create opportunities for the enemy,” Jing Hengbo insisted on her view.

Ying Bai said nothing more, indifferently taking a sip of wine.

Of the remaining eight, Jing Hengbo now had no mood to receive them and was about to have them arranged for rest when suddenly a figure stepped forward and said softly: “Your Majesty, has something happened?”

Seeing his build, Jing Hengbo recognized him as Chai Yu. Up close, this man was indeed quite fat, with layers of flesh bulging from his abdomen and many brown spots on his face. Though ugly, he carried himself elegantly and spoke in gentle tones. He bowed deeply to Jing Hengbo: “Perhaps I can help.”

“How do you know something happened?” Jing Hengbo was slightly wary.

Chai Yu smiled: “The boat seems to be missing someone.”

Jing Hengbo was secretly alarmed by this man’s attention to detail. The boat had quite a few people, including many guards—who would bother counting heads when they had nothing better to do?

Facing her suspicious gaze, Chai Yu said somewhat shyly: “I have photographic memory…”

Jing Hengbo nodded and said: “My female official has gone missing, apparently abducted underwater.”

“Then perhaps they went toward the river islands,” Chai Yu pondered. “There are quite a few small islands in the river center that could hide people. The largest island even harbors a group of water bandits—perhaps they’re connected to these people.”

“You’re from Immortal Bridge, so how are you so familiar with Ningzin’s situation?” Jing Hengbo’s tone was calm, as if asking casually.

“I’m originally from Immortal Bridge, but I’ve lived in Ningzin for ten years,” Chai Yu answered naturally. “I usually like to read by the water and am particularly familiar with this Curved River.”

“Then please lead the way,” Jing Hengbo smiled.

“Naturally at your service,” Chai Yu didn’t decline.

As the boat headed toward the river center, Jing Hengbo kept a close eye on the underwater while chatting with Chai Yu. She discovered this man truly had an ugly appearance but a beautiful soul. Not only was he extremely learned and familiar with local customs and conditions, but most importantly, he had an excellent character—gentle and unhurried, understanding and thoughtful. Conversing with him, one could easily forget his physical defects and feel refreshed as if bathed in spring breeze.

Actually, looking carefully, Jing Hengbo felt his obesity might not be unsolvable—it depended on whether it was physiological or pathological. After thinking, she smiled and suggested he exercise more instead of always focusing on reading.

Being extremely intelligent, Chai Yu naturally heard the subtext. Wiping away sweat with a smile, he said: “This student’s weight isn’t actually due to lack of exercise. Originally I was thin too, but unfortunately after falling… falling ill, I suddenly gained weight, and afterward, despite trying everything, I couldn’t lose it again, and I grew many spots…” He finished with a slight smile.

Seeing his smile, though maintaining composure, Jing Hengbo could detect some bitterness and knew this was his sore spot. She casually laughed: “Illness, childbirth—both can easily cause…”

Beside her, Chai Yu suddenly trembled. Jing Hengbo immediately became alert and stopped speaking to look at him, but saw Chai Yu pointing ahead: “We’ve arrived.”

Ahead was a sandbar. The large boat couldn’t get close, so Jing Hengbo ordered small boats to be rowed over. Quan Ninghao led people ashore first and quickly signaled that the island was empty.

Jing Hengbo still went ashore on the sandbar. Quan Ninghao presented a hairpin they’d found—it was indeed the one Zirui wore, but this could only prove Zirui had been here; it couldn’t indicate where she’d been taken. From this sandbar, one could reach several downstream counties.

After landing, Jing Hengbo’s gaze only searched the ground. She saw a nest of wild duck eggs laid near the water’s edge on the shore.

Wild ducks would lay eggs in sand pits, but laying them in water was very unlikely. Jing Hengbo noticed one egg was already broken. She ordered: “Search the beach for anything unusual.”

Quan Ninghao led people in a careful search of the beach. Soon he brought back something: “This clump of sand is rather special.”

Jing Hengbo took it in her hands and found it was a sand ball stuck together with egg yolk. Indeed, Zirui had summoned wild ducks to lay eggs by the water and used the yolk to form this sand ball. This way, the kidnappers would hardly notice, while her side, knowing Zirui’s abilities, would notice the abnormality of duck eggs laid by the water.

The sand ball’s shape seemed somewhat strange. She broke it open, thinking there should be something inside to indicate her next destination, but the sand ball was just a sand ball—nothing inside.

“What’s going on?” Jing Hengbo was also puzzled.

Chai Yu suddenly said: “Earlier, that sand ball seemed molded into some shape…”

Jing Hengbo paused, thought about it, and suddenly understood: “A turtle!”

That sand ball was flat and round with four small corners protruding—exactly like a turtle.

“Shangyuan City!”

Jing Hengbo stood up, gazing far toward Shangyuan City with its high walls and heavy fortifications.

The moment she knew it was Shangyuan City, she finally relaxed. She feared encountering people from the Sixteen Guilds—those frustrated ruffians might not treat Zirui kindly—but Daobei clan leader Ming Yan’an wouldn’t.

Under the watchful eyes of the Sixteen Guilds, his choice to defend the city showed this person had a cautious character. Having defended for so many years without being breached indicated he wasn’t completely incompetent either—perhaps he was also lying in wait for the right opportunity. Such a person, in abducting Zirui, was more likely doing it for self-preservation—a warning against her boast about “taking Shangyuan within a year.”

He was testing her, hinting: I still have the ability to fight you—you’d better sit down and talk with me.

Jing Hengbo smiled. Actually, she had also been preparing to have a good talk with the Daobei clan leader. Having severely offended the Sixteen Guilds, she couldn’t also become mortal enemies with the Daobei clan leader. Her initial thinking was similar to the clan leader’s—she also planned to establish her authority and show her strength before sitting down for equal negotiations.

But now, she wasn’t planning to talk calmly anymore.

Dare to abduct her people and threaten her?

Then let’s fight.

She casually tore off a piece of silk and used duck egg yolk to write two large excrement-yellow characters: “Release her!”

“Tian Qi,” she said, “please immediately go before Shangyuan City and shoot this message inside.”

Tian Qi, who had the best lightness skills, departed by small boat. Jing Hengbo waved her hand: “Let’s go home and sleep!”

“Not pursuing?” Yong Xue’s eyes widened.

Jing Hengbo smiled and stretched lazily: “No need to pursue. What follows is my business.”

…

When the white great boat reached the shore, most of the people on the bank had already left.

But under a cluster of tree shadows, two figures stood far away, watching Jing Hengbo and her group disembark from a distance.

“Sir,” Xianyu Qing asked with some confusion, “the Queen’s female official was abducted—don’t you plan to help find her?”

“No need,” Yelu Qi smiled. “The other party won’t harm Miss Zirui. They just want to test Her Majesty’s abilities and gain the initiative.” He paused, his gaze gently sweeping over Jing Hengbo: “The one truly in trouble is Her Majesty.”

“Then we…”

“We just made a mistake,” Yelu Qi touched his nose helplessly. “I just used the alias Feng Wei and jumped out to cause this scene, and then Official Su was abducted. Her Majesty must suspect that Feng Wei and Wei Yin are enemy spies. This kidnapper is quite skilled—so many good opportunities to strike, but he chose that precise moment. If he had acted during the earlier chaos, that person and I would definitely have noticed, but during the verbal sparring, our attention was also on the great boat, not on the boat’s rear… A master.”

Xianyu Qing rarely heard him evaluate someone like this—actually saying “master” twice. Looking at him in the moonlight, he even appeared unusually grave, which made Xianyu Qing somewhat uneasy. He asked: “Could it be Daobei clan leader Ming Yan’an?”

“He has a part in it, but he probably didn’t act personally,” Yelu Qi pondered. “This person who acted seems able to sense danger and avoid it. Ming Yan’an can’t do that. I’m even worried…” His brow furrowed slightly: “This person knows my and… that person’s identities.”

Xianyu Qing’s eyebrow twitched. He knew the identity mentioned here referred to his master’s true identity—this really wasn’t good news.

As for the “he” his master mentioned, he knew it was that fellow pretending to be Master Mu, but he wasn’t clear who this person actually was. He could only vaguely sense from Yelu Qi’s tone that this person’s true identity might not be inferior to his master’s.

How many people in this Great Wilderness had true identities surpassing his master…

He didn’t dare think further, finding it absurd.

How could that be possible…

“How could Daobei have such a person…” Yelu Qi looked grave. After thinking, he smiled: “Xianyu, bring the mask.”

Xianyu Qing complied, taking out the silver mask and the blue robes Master Mu usually wore: “Are you going to see the Queen?”

Yelu Qi changed into the attire, smiling without answering.

Xianyu Qing said with some emotion: “The Queen will be confused again… That day when she first encountered the fake killing Lei Shengyu, then saw you appear, this subordinate felt her eyes looked bewildered.”

“Bewildered?” Yelu Qi paused, then smiled: “I think she’s sharp rather—increasingly sharp. She noticed something wrong the moment Master Mu was switched. Now it seems that fellow seizing my role indeed had foresight.”

“What foresight?” Xianyu Qing asked in confusion.

“He knew it was getting harder to hide. If he continued casually impersonating anyone, she would identify him. Only by seizing an already existing important role, when she just confirmed it, then switching the person—she would doubt herself. If this happens repeatedly, in the constant switching, amid various feelings of familiarity and strangeness, she’d become completely confused and stop trusting her own instincts…” He smiled bitterly: “He wants to confuse her thoroughly…”

Though Xianyu Qing didn’t know the whole story, he was still stunned: “Why go to such lengths!”

“As long as he doesn’t want her to know, he’ll always find ways to prevent her from knowing,” Yelu Qi sighed. “All the ‘why go to such lengths’ in this world happen because someone first experiences life’s greatest suffering, leading to later helplessness.”

…

A small boat leisurely departed from the sandbar.

He stood on the boat, watching the distant white great boat gradually disappear, his expression calm and serene.

A guard waited silently beside him, not daring to ask casually—earlier, the master had clearly reached the sandbar first and witnessed Official Su being abducted, but for some reason hadn’t intervened.

The master was imposing, and guards never dared question or challenge him casually. They just needed to wait for instructions.

“Is our new hideout arranged?” he asked.

“Yes,” the guard replied respectfully. “According to your instructions, we’ve left several people and arranged hideouts in all important areas of Daobei.”

“Not just Daobei—arrange them in tribes neighboring Daobei too. Make sure people coming from Snow Mountain spend considerable time and effort searching.”

“Yes, we’ve also arranged many people with similar builds to yours, to appear when necessary and confuse their vision.” After answering, the guard was ultimately somewhat uneasy and couldn’t help saying: “Regarding Imperial Song, do you really not need to return once…”

“No need,” he said flatly. “If I rush back now, in the eyes of those with ulterior motives, they could truly confirm I’m in Daobei while the one at Imperial Song is fake.”

The guard thought about it—this made sense. Imperial Song had some problems that might lead Snow Mountain people to pursue to Daobei, but this couldn’t be confirmed. If the master rushed back now, it would easily expose his whereabouts and be self-incriminating.

And if Snow Mountain people searched for a while without finding anything, they’d doubt their judgment was wrong and abandon their original thinking.

But wasn’t the master worried at all about Imperial Song’s problems? Regardless, leaving such an important position to a fake…

However, the master’s decisions were beyond his authority to question.

“Then we…” The guard wanted to say, having prepared so many false leads, where exactly did they plan to hide during this period?

Seeing the guard’s question, he slightly curved his lips and turned his head.

The guard followed his gaze to see high walls and urn-shaped fortifications, poor information flow, closed and defensive—the impregnable Shangyuan Palace City.

…

Shangyuan Palace.

Though it was already nighttime, the royal palace remained brightly lit. Daobei clan leader Ming Yan’an still sat in his study with the door open, constantly receiving the latest news from Ningzin County through guards.

At the Battle of Curved River, he snorted coldly: “Arrogant!” It was unclear whom he meant.

At Chi Ming’s defeat, he made a light “eh” sound, as if something puzzled him.

When the Queen proposed “conquering Shangyuan,” he laughed coldly, seemingly too lazy to comment. Hearing guards relay those “brilliant strategies,” he laughed uncontrollably.

At the “divine bird’s” poetry, he raised his eyebrows, seeming incredulous. After thinking, he snorted again: “Parrot mimicry!”

When the list of winning scholars was reported, he was clearly very attentive. After learning the results, his expression became displeased, his fingertips tapping lightly on the desk, seemingly dissatisfied. Only after hearing that the top two hadn’t appeared did his expression improve slightly.

A guard outside reported: “Your Majesty, the person has been brought.”

He rose and stepped outside to see several cloaked figures approaching like dark clouds in the night, carrying a young woman.

Ming Yan’an’s eyes narrowed slightly. He didn’t know who these people were, but they had actively contacted him, expressing willingness to help him. Since it required no effort from him, he had agreed.

He hadn’t held high hopes, but unexpectedly, these people had actually abducted someone from beside the Queen.

“Thank you all for your hard work,” he personally stepped forward to greet them. Just as he was about to invite them in to talk, the lead black-cloaked figure said in a muffled voice: “Your Majesty, we’ve brought the person as promised. We and you ultimately aren’t on the same path, so there’s no need for courtesy. We’ll take our leave now—until we meet again.”

“Please wait, everyone!” Ming Yan’an hurriedly said. “I don’t ask about your identities, but having received such favor from you all, offering no reward in return would trouble my conscience. Please leave some word—if there’s opportunity to repay you in the future, I certainly won’t be stingy.”

“When we said we’d help you, we mentioned needing no reward or contact,” the black-cloaked figure said. “If Your Majesty feels uneasy about this, I’ll tell you—though we’re not allies, we have common enemies. Helping you helps ourselves. Please make good use of this opportunity.” He smiled again: “Perhaps we’ll have chance to meet again, and then we’ll naturally ask Your Majesty for assistance.”

With this explanation, what wasn’t clear? Ming Yan’an’s heart settled, and he cupped his fists in farewell: “In that case, thank you.”

He watched those people leave silently, then glanced at the soaking wet Zirui: “Arrange for Miss Zirui to be well accommodated—show no negligence.”

Zirui remained quite composed, saying nothing and following compliantly.

Ming Yan’an watched her retreating figure and sighed inwardly—who said the Queen led a rabble and was crude herself? Just one female official beside the Queen remained calm and dignified under pressure. If her attendants were like this, how inferior could the Queen be?

Just as the person was settled, guards reported: “There’s a Queen’s messenger at the city gate, shooting an arrow with a message.”

Ming Yan’an’s heart jumped in surprise: “Such fast speed!”

He knew the Queen could guess the female official’s whereabouts but hadn’t expected it so quickly.

The solemn look in Ming Yan’an’s eyes deepened. Unfolding the message, he nearly vomited from the soul-stirring color and smell: “…What… what kind of ink is this…”

Looking at the paper again—no greeting, no signature, wrinkled and dirty, with two ugly characters “Release her!” bristling with aggression, arrogance leaping from the page.

Ming Yan’an’s face turned iron-blue as he suddenly crumpled the paper into a ball: “Arrogant!”

Calming himself, he had to return to his study and order writing materials.

If Jing Hengbo had no shame, he still needed his dignity. Writing letters with duck egg yolk was something he truly couldn’t do.

He also wanted to write few words to project royal authority, but unfortunately character was predetermined. After much deliberation, he still wrote properly: “Your Majesty is wise and brilliant, and this humble king admires you greatly. I have prepared simple wine and food in waiting. Would Your Majesty dare to enter Shangyuan alone for us to drink together under the moon?”

He then had this shot back by arrow as well.

He sat in his study for a long while, his mind tangled like hemp. After some time, he said: “Someone come—move Young Master Yue to Moon Splendor Palace.”

His attendant showed slight shock but bowed and withdrew.

He asked again: “That person at East Black Water—is he dead yet?”

Black Water Marsh covered an extremely vast area. Daobei residents, based on their proximity to different parts of the marsh, distinguished between East, South, West, and North Black Water areas. The area near the back mountain of Daobei royal palace was East Black Water.

A few days ago, a group had intruded into East Black Water. When this matter reached Ming Yan’an’s desk, he was extremely shocked.

Because breaking through Daobei’s heavy military guard to enter Black Water Marsh was extremely difficult, yet when this group was discovered, they were already inside the marsh. How had they entered?

Ming Yan’an thought his army had traitors or security breaches, but after thorough investigation, he found no problems.

The army was fine—the problem lay with the group that entered Black Water Marsh. These reportedly weren’t Great Wilderness people but seemed to come from Nan Qi. Though few in number, they were extremely capable, mysteriously entering the marsh interior. When discovered, they’d already been inside for two days.

Hearing they’d been there two days and were outsiders, Ming Yan’an relaxed. Black Water Marsh was a place where, without long-term proximity to build immunity, outsiders couldn’t survive. Even if they encountered no beasts at the marsh’s edge, they’d die within three days.

Now he suddenly remembered that group. Calculating, it had been about five days, so he asked casually.

Just a casual question, but his subordinate actually said: “They might not be dead yet, because just this morning, guards heard fierce beast roars from deep in Black Water Marsh.”

Ming Yan’an was very surprised. Just as he was about to ask details, he heard rapid footsteps outside. A deputy general guarding Black Water Marsh rushed to his study, knelt on one knee, and shouted: “Report to Your Majesty! That group has exited Black Water Marsh and is breaking through the guard encirclement, heading toward the royal palace!”

Ming Yan’an shot to his feet, his handsome features seeming to distort momentarily: “What’s happening? You have over a thousand men—what were you all doing?”

“Your Majesty…” The general seemed to have difficulty speaking, hesitating: “You should see for yourself…”

Before he finished speaking, Ming Yan’an had already strode out: “Prepare the carriage!”