Captured

The opera performance had ended, and the sky had turned pitch black.

Shen Bichuan returned to his quarters at Xiaohua Court. The moment he stepped through the door, he called for his personal young servant, Jinbao, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“I am tired and want to rest. There is no need to prepare dinner. Remember, no one is allowed to come in and disturb me.”

Although Jinbao felt a bit worried, he did not dare to disobey. He nodded quickly.

“This servant understands. Rest well, Master. Call for me anytime if you have any needs.”

Once Jinbao withdrew, Shen Bichuan took off his outer robe and pulled a small knife from the wardrobe, which he had hidden long ago. A cold light flashed from the blade. Without a single moment of hesitation, he plunged it straight into his chest.

Qin Ye had buried a tracking parasite inside his body, and that insect would always emit a faint, peculiar fragrance. If he did not cut it out, even if he managed to escape the Night King’s estate, this unique scent would give away his tracks. Only by carving out his own flesh to remove the parasite would he have a sliver of hope for survival.

“Ugh—”

Shen Bichuan’s entire body shuddered. A muffled groan, suppressed to the absolute limit, squeezed from his throat. Cold sweat instantly beaded across his forehead, sliding down frantically along his temples and cheeks.

Warm blood surged out immediately, trickling down his chest and staining his fingertips red. The agonizing pain of his flesh being brutally carved open made his vision go black in waves. He nearly collapsed to the ground several times. Fortunately, the parasite was successfully pulled out. By now, he was shaking violently all over, cold sweat soaking his hair. His face was as stark white as paper, completely devoid of color, and even his lips had turned a bruised, dark shade.

Forcing out his very last ounce of strength, he pulled a small porcelain bottle from his robe, twisted open the stopper, and poured the entire contents of the Golden Healing Powder onto the bleeding wound. The moment the white medicinal powder made contact with the warm blood, a white mist hissed upward, making the stinging pain even more intense. Shen Bichuan let out a muffled grunt, the veins on his forehead bulging fiercely, but he bit down and forced himself not to make another sound, deeply terrified of alerting the people outside.

The blood-stopping effect of the Golden Healing Powder was incredibly powerful. After a short moment, the bleeding from his chest gradually ceased. Gasping for air, Shen Bichuan slowly stood up by leaning against the edge of the bed. He reached out and forcefully ripped the soft bed curtains apart, tearing the fabric into long, thin strips.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he wrapped the cloth strips layer after layer around his chest. Once everything was secure, he finally caught his breath a little and called out at the top of his voice.

“Jinbao, come in.”

Hearing the call, Jinbao pushed the door open and stepped inside right away. The moment he saw the bloody, chaotic mess in the room, his eyes widened in sheer terror. But before he could even turn around to run outside and report it, a swift chop from the edge of a hand struck his neck hard. His body went limp, and he knocked out cold instantly.

Shen Bichuan caught his body steadily and quickly dragged him over to the side of the bed. Using the cloth strips he had prepared in advance, he tied Jinbao’s hands securely behind his back to the bedpost and stuffed a gag into his mouth, ensuring the boy would not be discovered for a short while. Following that, he quickly stripped off his own robes and changed into Jinbao’s clothes.

His build was originally quite similar to Jinbao’s. After putting on the servant’s uniform, he looked completely flawless from a distance.

Once fully prepared, Shen Bichuan endured the throbbing pain and used the darkness of the night to quietly slip around to the back courtyard, watching the movements of the opera troupe from the shadows.

At this moment, the troupe members were hurriedly packing up their belongings, stacking large and small wooden boxes together, their footsteps rushing.

The troupe manager was rushing everyone from the side.

“Be quicker with your hands and feet! If we delay any longer and the city gates lock, we won’t be able to leave the city tonight. It costs too much for this many people to stay overnight in the city. Pack up quickly and leave the city!”

Hearing this, everyone’s movements became even faster, carrying boxes and lifting cages without daring to waste a single second.

Shen Bichuan hid in the deep shadows, holding his breath and focusing his mind. Watching the crowd finish packing all their luggage, he caught a perfect moment when no one was paying attention and quietly slipped into a massive, red wooden box meant for opera costumes. The box was packed full of silk and satin costumes, perfectly burying him underneath the very bottom without leaving a single trace.

Two troupe workers walked up to lift the box. The moment they exerted their strength, one of them could not help but grumble.

“Huh? Why is this box so heavy today? It’s much heavier than when we came!”

The other worker laughed and chimed in.

“The Prince rewarded us with quite a bit of silver and extra items today, so of course it’s heavy. We struck it rich this time.”

The two chatted and laughed as they lifted the box, walking right out toward the prince’s estate exit.

When the group reached the gates of the manor, the guards on duty stopped them as expected to check their luggage one by one.

A guard held his sword, tapping and knocking against the various boxes. When it was the turn of the red wooden box where Shen Bichuan was hiding, he directly used his sword to poke and rustle around inside the box a few times.

Shen Bichuan curled up tightly at the bottom of the box, his entire body rigid. He did not dare to breathe loudly, terrified that the guard would notice him.

Fortunately, the night was dark, and the opera costumes inside the box were thick and messy. The guard only felt the soft fabric after rummaging a few times and found nothing unusual, waving his hand to let them pass.

It wasn’t until he heard the heavy sound of the prince’s estate gates closing behind them that Shen Bichuan finally let out a long sigh of relief. His tense body relaxed instantly, his back already thoroughly soaked through with cold sweat.

After the group left the city, they headed straight toward a small coaching inn in the suburbs to rest. Once everyone went together to the front hall of the inn to have their meal and there was no more movement around the luggage, Shen Bichuan carefully pushed open the lid of the box and climbed out with light, stealthy steps.

He was still wearing Jinbao’s clothes. If the people from the Night King’s estate came looking for him, they would definitely recognize him at a single glance.

He quickly rummaged through the box, found a set of opera costumes, and changed into them. Only after putting everything on did he realize it was a female costume for the character Consort Yu. He was already blessed with a devastatingly beautiful face; after putting on this elegant, feminine outfit, he didn’t look like a man at all, which was more than enough to deceive anyone.

He did not dare to linger around. Taking advantage of the night, he quietly left the coaching inn, dodging and hiding along the way until he found an abandoned, broken temple in the suburbs to hide for the time being.

Throughout the entire night, his heart pounded with terror, and he did not dare to close his eyes for even a second. His mind kept racing with the thought that once the manor discovered his escape, they would definitely launch a city-wide manhunt. He could only curl up in a corner of the ruined temple, quietly enduring until dawn, planning to make further moves after meeting the contact.

As the sky turned slightly bright, Shen Bichuan followed the route he had planned beforehand and walked toward the Cloud Mansion Teahouse at the east end of the city. By the time he neared the teahouse, it was already close to the hour of Si, which was the exact time the contact was supposed to appear for tea.

He steadied his nerves and walked slowly into the teahouse.

The moment he stepped inside, he vaguely sensed that something was wrong. There were only a few scattered people inside the teahouse, though it could just be that he had arrived too early.

He walked straight toward the second floor. But the moment his feet settled onto the floorboards of the upper level, his entire being froze right on the spot.

The entire second floor was completely empty, save for a single person sitting at a table by the window. His spine was perfectly straight, and he was taking his time sipping tea, his entire presence radiating a suffocating, terrifying pressure.

Shen Bichuan’s heart turned completely cold in an instant.

Even if this silhouette turned to ash, he would never be able to forget it for the rest of his life.

It was Qin Ye.