Mo Li

Although most of Prince Ding's Estate's forces had long since left the capital, it was still effortless for Mo Xiuyao to locate someone when he truly set his mind to it. After all, the estate had been entrenched in Chu Jing not merely for a decade or two, but for nearly two centuries. The depth of its influence was something Tan Jizhi—a fallen descendant of the previous dynasty who could hardly walk openly in daylight—could never fully grasp. Thus, when Tan Jizhi was "politely yet firmly" escorted to Prince Ding's Estate by its men, he couldn't conceal the flicker of shock in his expression.

In the main hall, seated in the master's position, Mo Xiuyao regarded the middle-aged man before him with an amused yet detached smile. "Young Master Tan… tell me, how should this prince entertain you this time? Or perhaps… do you still have something left to trade for your life?"

Hearing this, Tan Jizhi knew there was little point in arguing. With someone like Mo Xiuyao, once his mind was made up, no amount of debate would change the outcome. Yet, he had no choice but to fight for his life—after all, he wasn’t tired of living just yet. With a bitter smile, he conceded, "Prince Ding's Estate truly has deep roots. Now that I’ve fallen into Your Highness's hands, I have nothing to say. Only… may I ask what offense I’ve committed to provoke Your Highness's wrath?"

Mo Xiuyao studied him with interest, raising a brow. "Could it be that Young Master Tan believes I invited you here for tea?"

Tan Jizhi sighed. Of course, he knew why Mo Xiuyao had summoned him—he just hadn’t expected to be found so quickly. Resigned, he replied bluntly, "I’m afraid I can do nothing about the matter Your Highness refers to. Though the idea was mine, I no longer have any influence over the court of Great Chu. So… Third Master Feng, I hope you can forgive me." With that, he clasped his hands in apology toward Feng Zhiyao, whose expression had remained stormy since the moment they met.

Feng Zhiyao responded with a cold snort, ignoring him. Unfazed, Tan Jizhi calmly sipped his tea.

Mo Xiuyao leaned back in his chair, observing Tan Jizhi with an air of leisure. Yet beneath his composed exterior, Tan Jizhi’s nerves were stretched taut. Though Mo Xiuyao’s gaze seemed indifferent, the pressure it exerted was no less than that of a blade pressed to his throat. He knew his fate now rested entirely on Mo Xiuyao’s whim.

After a long silence, Mo Xiuyao finally withdrew his gaze, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Young Master Tan, are you stalling here, waiting for someone to rescue you?"

Tan Jizhi stiffened, his smile growing even more bitter. "Now that I’m in Your Highness's hands, I dare not entertain such hopes." He truly held no illusions about those people. Tan Jizhi had always prided himself on his judgment, and compared to Mo Xiuyao, the schemers in Chu Jing were far from formidable. Falling into Mo Xiuyao’s grasp wasn’t unjust—after all, he had once aided Mo Jingqi in plotting against Mo Xiuyao, even coming perilously close to annihilating Prince Ding's Estate. What gnawed at him was the futility of his ambitions. He had spent his life striving for greatness, yet nearing forty, he had achieved nothing. Now, trapped in Mo Xiuyao’s clutches, his chances of survival were slim…

The resentment in Tan Jizhi’s eyes didn’t escape Mo Xiuyao’s notice. Smiling faintly, he remarked, "Young Master Tan, are you lamenting that all your years of effort have come to naught?""Perhaps it's not just wasted effort, but rather preparing a dowry for someone else." Tan Jizhi glanced at Ye Li, who had been sitting silently beside Mo Xiuyao, and said with some frustration, "Speaking of which, it seems Prince Ding's Estate began to turn its fortunes around ever since Wang Ye married Wang Fei. All Mo Jingqi's scheming has done less to trouble Prince Ding's Estate and more to openly sever its ties with Great Chu."

Mo Xiuyao arched his sword-like brows slightly, turning his head to give Ye Li a faint smile before looking back at Tan Jizhi with some regret. "If not for past grievances, someone like you, Tan-gongzi, is precisely the kind of talent I would have wished to keep in Prince Ding's Estate. In truth, there’s no need for you to be frustrated. Even if your original plan had succeeded, the one laughing in the end still wouldn’t have been you. Because... from the very beginning, you were heading in the wrong direction. Look at Ren Qining—don’t you see the gap between you and him?"

Tan Jizhi’s expression darkened. If there was one thing in this world that could strike a nerve for someone like him, Ren Qining was undoubtedly it. Ever since Ren Qining had appeared as the descendant of the previous dynasty—and under the identity of Lin Yuan, no less—Tan Jizhi had been plagued by unease. There was only one Lin Yuan. If Ren Qining was the lost heir of the former dynasty, then what was Tan Jizhi? And if he wasn’t the descendant of the fallen dynasty, what had his lifelong struggles even been for? Tan Jizhi had neither sought out Ren Qining nor questioned Doctor Lin, because deep down, he feared the answer might be something he couldn’t bear to face.

"This matter hardly requires Wang Ye’s concern," Tan Jizhi said stiffly.

Mo Xiuyao raised a brow. "Indeed, it has nothing to do with me. Neither you nor Ren Qining have ever been worth my notice."

"Wang Ye may be overconfident. Have you forgotten how tragically Prince Ding's Estate once fell?" Rationally, Tan Jizhi knew he shouldn’t provoke Mo Xiuyao now. But seeing the careless indifference in the other man’s eyes, his anger flared uncontrollably. The most infuriating thing wasn’t being outmatched by an enemy—it was realizing that enemy had never even considered you a threat.

"Which is precisely why you and Mo Jingqi made such fools of yourselves. Did you truly believe that, had Prince Ding's Estate not been bound by loyalty to Great Chu, someone as incompetent as Mo Jingqi could have ever schemed against my elder brother?" The former heir of Prince Ding's Estate, Mo Xiuwen, might not have had the dazzling reputation of his younger brother in his youth, but he was one of the few people Mo Xiuyao had ever truly respected. And earning Mo Xiuyao’s respect was never something that could be achieved by mere seniority alone. "And now... who in this world can stand in my way?"

Tan Jizhi scoffed, his eyes flashing with disbelief—though the expression seemed forced and unconvincing. Mo Xiuyao paid it no mind, waving a hand to have him taken away. Tan Jizhi still had some use left, so he wouldn’t be killed just yet. But there was no chance he would escape Mo Xiuyao’s grasp a second time.Feng Zhiyao roughly dragged Tan Jizhi, whose martial arts had been sealed, away, leaving only Ye Li and Mo Xiuyao sitting opposite each other in the hall. Ye Li leisurely replaced the cooled tea and poured a fresh cup, smiling as she looked at the white-haired man across from her. "Does Wang Ye have any plans? Someone like Tan Jizhi..." Tan Jizhi wasn’t a major concern. With his martial arts sealed and under Prince Ding's Estate's control, even if he weren’t locked in a cell, he wouldn’t be able to escape or send any messages out. However, Ye Li thought of Doctor Lin, still in the northwest. During her last visit, she hadn’t asked him about Tan Jizhi. After so many years together, and considering the life-saving grace and mentorship from back then, Ye Li truly regarded the old man as family. She didn’t want to cause him undue sorrow.

"A mere clown," Mo Xiuyao said indifferently. "A Li, don’t worry. I’ll handle the relationship between Tan Jizhi and Doctor Lin properly."

Ye Li nodded. Mo Xiuyao’s promises had always been reliable. After brief consideration, she set the matter aside and said to him, "There’s nothing left to do in the capital. Let’s return to the northwest soon." If they delayed any longer, her elder brother Xu Qingchen might truly lose his temper.

Mo Xiuyao nodded with a pleased smile. "Once we’ve settled the Feng family’s affairs and the new emperor’s ascension is finalized, we’ll head back to the northwest." Though he often schemed to offload most responsibilities onto Xu Qingchen, Mo Xiuyao understood the principle of moderation. Pushing too hard and risking Xu Qingchen abandoning his duties would be counterproductive.

The Feng family’s misfortune was particularly striking. Though merchants ranked lowest in the social hierarchy, the Feng family’s prominence made them far more illustrious than most. As the only one of the four great merchant families of Chu to establish themselves in the capital and maintain ties with the royal family, they had always commanded respect. But after the emperor’s death, the Feng brothers split into factions, arguing fiercely over which side to support. Before they could reach a decision, the family was swiftly raided. They didn’t even understand the reason before the entire household—over a hundred people—was thrown into the capital’s prison.

As the saying goes, "When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter." With the Feng family suddenly uprooted and imprisoned without warning, their former allies avoided them like the plague. Those waiting to profit from their downfall certainly weren’t going to lift a finger. The once-pampered ladies, young masters, and misses, suddenly thrust into filthy, dark cells, wailed incessantly.

Feng Huaiting, the family patriarch and Feng Zhiyao’s biological father, was held in a solitary cell. Unlike his weeping wives, children, and other relatives, he remained composed, sitting quietly in a corner with his back against the wall, ignoring even the calls from Feng Madam in the adjacent cell.Feng Zhiyao was stopped as soon as he entered the Dali Temple. Originally, according to the orders from above, although Feng Zhiyao had a distant relationship with the Feng family, he was still a Feng family concubine's son and should have been imprisoned as well. However, Feng Zhiyao had another identity—Prince Ding's confidant and deputy general of the Mo Family Army. The officials sent to arrest him deliberated repeatedly but ultimately didn't dare to personally go to Prince Ding's Estate to apprehend him. They could only report back, and in the end, the matter was quietly dropped. But for Third Master Feng to now want to enter the Dali Temple to visit the Feng family was absolutely unacceptable.

Feng Zhiyao stared gloomily at the Dali Temple official before him, who wore a fake smile. After the Feng family was thrown into prison, he had been busy capturing Tan Jizhi. Only after completing Wang Ye's orders did he have time to visit, yet he was blocked at the door. Having not slept for two days, Feng Zhiyao's foul mood was understandable.

"Get lost," Feng Zhiyao said coldly. His usually charming and carefree smile now carried a hint of severity, causing the man blocking his path to shiver involuntarily.

"Third Master Feng, out of respect for Prince Ding, the court has already shown you leniency by not making things difficult for you. Don't push your luck!" Perhaps realizing he had been frightened by a mere junior, the old man before him tried to salvage his dignity with a righteous tone. Feng Zhiyao scoffed disdainfully. "If you have the guts, throw me in there too. I’ve never heard of the Dali Temple forbidding visitors." While it was true that the Dali Temple didn’t allow casual visits, certain unspoken rules in officialdom still existed. With enough money, there was no place one couldn’t go—except the imperial palace. But Feng Zhiyao had no intention of bribing anyone. He smirked at the self-righteous old man. "Should I inform the Censorate how much you’ve taken in bribes over your seven years at the Dali Temple, Lord Wang?"

Lord Wang's face paled. He glanced at his subordinates, who were pretending not to hear anything. After staring at Feng Zhiyao for a long while, he finally cleared his throat and said, "Since Third Master Feng is from Prince Ding's Estate, this official naturally cannot stop you. Please make your visit brief."

Feng Zhiyao sneered. "My coming here has nothing to do with Prince Ding's Estate." Without another glance at Lord Wang’s expression, he strode into the prison.

As soon as he entered, a damp, foul stench assaulted him. On both sides of the corridor, filthy, blackened hands reached out from the cells, trying to grab passersby. Feng Zhiyao snorted, his sharp gaze sweeping over them. The prisoners who had been reaching for him immediately withdrew their hands. Long-term inmates had an instinct for self-preservation. Though Feng Zhiyao appeared handsome and refined like a noble playboy, the aura of violence accumulated from years on the battlefield was something these prisoners couldn’t withstand.

The Feng family was held in the deepest part of the prison. Before even stepping inside, Feng Zhiyao wrinkled his nose at the strange, putrid odor wafting out. A cold glint flashed in his half-lowered eyes.Entering the area where the Feng family was imprisoned, Feng Zhiyao gazed with complex emotions at the man meditating in the solitary cell at the very end. Feng Huaiting, nearing sixty, appeared much younger than his actual age. Even in this dark and filthy prison, seated on the bare ground, he looked far more composed than the weeping and clamoring Feng family members in the adjacent cells. Feng Zhiyao noticed, however, that compared to when he had left the capital years ago, there were now many more white strands at his temples. Six years prior, when Feng Zhiyao had returned to the capital, he had ultimately disregarded Xu Hongyan’s advice to visit him. Counting the years, it had been a full seven or eight since they had last seen each other. Feng Zhiyao closed his eyes briefly, concealing the excess emotions within.

Feng Zhiyao’s sudden appearance immediately silenced the noisy Feng family. The man in red standing in the corridor, clad in luxurious crimson robes, possessed a strikingly handsome face that seemed to brighten the dim prison. The Feng family was not very familiar with Feng Zhiyao—since he was ** years old, he had spent more time at Prince Ding's Estate and outside than at home. Yet, as they looked at the red-clad figure before them, someone finally recalled that many years ago, there had been a Feng family member who always wore red, no matter the occasion. Suddenly, someone exclaimed, “Feng Zhiyao!”

“Eldest Brother, Second Brother, it’s been a while. How have you been?” Feng Zhiyao arched an eyebrow, offering a faintly malicious smirk to the two middle-aged men nearby.

No matter how many years had passed, Feng Zhiyao could never bring himself to like these two elder brothers of his. In childhood, they had been figures of envy and fear; in youth, objects of loathing and resentment. Now, long matured, Feng Zhiyao had left these two brothers far behind. The bone-deep hatred of his youth had faded into nothing more than a faint, instinctive aversion.

“Feng Zhiyao?! What are you doing here?!” Feng Zhiyuan, the second son of the Feng family, stared at his long-lost younger brother with a mix of emotions. The grievances of childhood might have been mere childish mischief, but the conflicts of their youth had been entangled with far greater interests. Back then, the Feng family had pressured the patriarch to expel Feng Zhiyao, citing his closeness to Prince Ding's Estate. After Feng Zhiyao followed Prince Ding to the northwest, they had publicly severed ties with him. Now, while Feng Zhiyao thrived in Prince Ding's Estate, they had fallen to such depths. The expressions of the two Feng heirs darkened.

“Third Brother… Third Brother! Save me! I had nothing to do with this! Save me…” A middle-aged woman scrambled to the bars, clutching at Feng Zhiyao’s robes and weeping. Feng Zhiyao raised an eyebrow. Liu Jia and Prince Li had certainly prepared thoroughly—not only had they captured the main and branch families of the Feng clan, but even the married daughters had been dragged back. This… hardly seemed like a mere threat against him and Prince Ding's Estate. Recalling Mo Xiuyao’s indifferent smile as he left, Feng Zhiyao’s lips curved slightly.

“Why have you come?” Feng Huaiting had opened his eyes the moment Feng Zhiyuan first called Feng Zhiyao’s name. His gaze swept over the red-clad nobleman outside, a flicker of unreadable emotion passing through his eyes before vanishing just as quickly. His voice was calm as he spoke.The cold voice made Feng Zhiyao's heart sink, yet the smile on his face grew even brighter. "Of course, I came to see you, Father. You seem to be doing well."

"Unnecessary," Feng Huaiting said icily. "You are no longer a descendant of the Feng family. Whatever happens to the Fengs has nothing to do with you, and I don’t need your superfluous visits. If you have nothing else, leave." With that, Feng Huaiting closed his eyes again, ignoring Feng Zhiyao’s abruptly darkened expression.

"Father, what are you saying?" the fourth young lady of the Feng family protested from the side. "Third Brother is Prince Ding’s trusted aide. He must be here to save us. Third Brother... hurry and have them release me!"

Feng Zhiyao had initially felt some guilt, but Feng Huaiting’s cold words stoked a surge of anger within him. With a cold laugh, he tugged his sleeve back from where Feng Fourth had grabbed it and raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Apologies, but as Master Feng said, I’m no longer part of the Feng family. What happens to you all has nothing to do with me. Right now... I’m just here to watch the show."

"You little bastard! Even if the Feng family has fallen, it’s not your place to gloat. Who knows—maybe the Fengs were ruined because of the ill luck you and that lowborn woman brought upon us!" Madam Feng suddenly shrieked from the side.

Hearing this, Feng Zhiyao turned to her in surprise. Madam Feng had always prided herself on being the legitimate wife. Though she never spared a glance for a mere concubine-born son like him, she had always maintained a facade of magnanimity and virtue in public, never giving anyone cause for gossip. Apart from indulging her two sons in bullying him and subtly ostracizing him and his mother, compared to some of the truly vicious women in noble households, Madam Feng had been relatively restrained. He hadn’t expected her to lose her composure now.

"Silence!" Feng Huaiting suddenly snapped, his voice frigid. "Such vulgar words—have you lost all sense of decency now that you’re in prison?"

Madam Feng choked, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly.