A Close Call - Meeting a Former Enemy

The moment the words fell, not only was Qi Yu stunned, but Li Sheng also failed to react.

Shen Mengzhi only had time to push away Qi Yu, who was vigilantly shielding him, when a sudden gust of wind arrived. The sound of something tearing through the air rapidly approached, and a superhuman force seized his neck in a fierce grip, carrying him backward with an undeniable momentum, before slamming him heavily against the wall.

He choked out a violent cough, the overwhelming taste of blood filling his throat, accompanied by a pain as if his spine had shattered.

“Let's see... a striking resemblance. But that fellow looked a bit tougher. You, on the other hand, look like you don't have many years left.” The other person curled his lips into a savage smile. “This prince is in a good mood today. I can listen to your opinion—how would you like to die?”

The man gripped his neck, his five fingers gradually tightening, looking down and enjoying his expression.

Shen Mengzhi was forced to tilt his head back, his vision blackening from the lack of oxygen. Even in such a compromising situation, he still had the strength to give a very faint shake of his head at Qi Yu, who was rushing over.

'This is someone they cannot afford to offend right now.'

The other party showed no intention of letting go. Shen Mengzhi could only suppress the pain in his back and force a few words through his teeth, broken and barely audible, “Prince... of... Liang... could you... let... this Jiang... die knowing why?”

The other sneered, “You know me? Then you should know why I've come for you.”

He wasn't the least bit surprised that his identity had been recognized. In the entire court of Great Qin, there was only one prince with an eye affliction in his left eye who needed to wear an eye patch when he went out.

The Prince of Liang.

Qi Yu froze on the spot, almost unable to control his expression for a moment.

The second son of Emperor Yan of Qin, the savage, bloodthirsty, and murderous Prince of Liang, Chu Rong.

If he had rushed over just now, he had no doubt that Chu Rong would have snapped both his and Shen Mengzhi's necks.

A chill ran down his spine. Qi Yu gritted his teeth and turned to the silent, grim-faced Li Sheng. “Lord Grand Censor! If anything happens to my young master, no one will know of Xiao Zhuo's movements!”

Li Sheng shot him a dark look, seemingly weighing the consequences of offending Chu Rong against the credibility of Qi Yu's words. After a moment, as if the information Shen Mengzhi possessed had finally convinced him, he slowly spoke, “Your Highness, Prince of Liang, this man cannot be killed.”

Hearing this, Chu Rong glanced at him, his expression frivolous, but his eyes were chillingly cold. “Lord Grand Censor, are you joking? Is there anyone in this world that I cannot kill?”

He loosened his grip slightly, but before Shen Mengzhi could catch his breath, he tightened it again in an instant, toying with him like prey, patient and terrifying.

“I have yet to ask, why is the Censorate hiding a person of unknown origin?” Chu Rong said. “Lord Grand Censor, are you intentionally hiding this from this prince?”

“Your Highness, watch your words! This man has come to surrender his allegiance,” Li Sheng said, his expression ugly, grinding out the words. “He is still useful for dealing with Xiao Zhuo.”

“Xiao Zhuo...”

Chu Rong repeated the name, raising an eyebrow. “That petty Prince of Yanling? He's still alive?”

He swept his inscrutable gaze over Shen Mengzhi, then suddenly released his grip. “I'll give you two breaths. Spit out everything you know, and then I'll send you on your way.”

Suddenly losing support, Shen Mengzhi staggered a few steps and was quickly caught by Qi Yu. He clutched his neck, the sudden rush of fresh air into his mouth and nose making him cough uncontrollably. Every cough sent a jolt of pain through his entire body.

After recovering for a moment, he finally raised his eyes to look at Chu Rong and Li Sheng, his lips once again curving into their usual calm smile. “Even if I tell you all the information I know, Your Highness and Lord Grand Censor will not be able to find him.”

Chu Rong narrowed his eyes and was about to lash out, but Li Sheng stopped him. The latter asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“Xiao Zhuo is an extremely cautious person. At the slightest sign of trouble, he will immediately slip away like a cicada shedding its shell and relocate.”

Shen Mengzhi's voice was still hoarse, making it very difficult for him to speak. Qi Yu wanted to help him, but he shook his head and continued, “I have people on his side who will regularly inform me of Xiao Zhuo's movements. If I die, no one else will know these things. Therefore, if you wish to capture him, this humble one might have to strive to live a little longer.”

“Are you threatening me?” Chu Rong let out an unexpected sneer, his expression suddenly turning vicious the next moment. “Do you truly believe that a mere Xiao Zhuo is worthy of this prince's concern?”

“If it were only Xiao Zhuo, he would indeed be no cause for alarm,” Shen Mengzhi said. “But with Great Qin's powers currently divided and with internal turmoil, you can hardly look after your own affairs. If Xiao Zhuo were to take a piece of the pie amidst this, could you truly handle everything?”

Caught off guard by his pointed remark about their concerns, both Chu Rong and Li Sheng's expressions changed.

Ever since Emperor Yan of Qin fell gravely ill, the court had been stirring with unrest. Since ancient times, the throne of the Son of Heaven has been won through fratricide and bloodshed, and Chu Rong naturally coveted it as well.

But Shen Mengzhi was right. Besides his several brothers and royal uncles, there was also the exceptionally troublesome Chu Jin. If Xiao Zhuo were added to the mix to stir up trouble, he feared he would be stretched too thin.

After a long silence, Li Sheng suddenly huffed a laugh and said, “The students taught by Heshan Academy are truly extraordinary.”

Shen Mengzhi chuckled lightly. “You flatter me.”

“As for the injury on Young Master Jiang's neck, I will have the manor's physician attend to it,” Li Sheng said. “I have caused much offense today. Please do not take it to heart, Young Master Jiang.”

Qi Yu's hand supporting him tightened, as if he were cursing inwardly. Shen Mengzhi patted his hand reassuringly and shook his head at Li Sheng.

Chu Rong was still standing there with a dark expression. Li Sheng gave Shen Mengzhi a subtle look and said in a low voice to Chu Rong, “Your Highness, a word in private.”

After the two had left, Shen Mengzhi seemed to be completely exhausted. Unable to hold onto Qi Yu's arm, his entire body slid downward.

Qi Yu immediately knelt to check his injuries. “How are you? Where does it hurt?”

“When I hit the wall, it seems my shoulder blade was dislocated.” Shen Mengzhi frowned, cold sweat trickling down his pale face. “I didn't expect the visitor to be the Prince of Liang...”

“You faced him during the War of Yan-Qin.” Qi Yu was still shaken by the memory. “It's a good thing he didn't recognize you...”

Shen Mengzhi shook his head. “I was wearing a mask back then; he wouldn't recognize me.”

As he moved, the purplish-blue bruises on his neck became even more shocking, branded on his fair skin, looking particularly horrifying.

“Don't talk anymore,” Qi Yu said in a low voice. “I'll take you to the manor physician first.”

Fortunately, it was cold in winter and the clothes were thick. After putting on an outer robe, the goose-white long fluff of the collar covered his neck completely. The two left the side courtyard, found a young servant to lead the way, and headed for the physician's residence.

“That carriage we saw before entering the manor,” Shen Mengzhi walked very slowly, “should be the Prince of Liang's.”

“No wonder.” Qi Yu frowned. “But why would he come to the Censorate?”

Shen Mengzhi said faintly, “That's what I'm concerned about as well. The Prince of Liang, the Grand Censor—these two have never had any connection before. Why do they seem so familiar with each other today?”

“Could it be...”

Before he could finish, the young servant leading the way suddenly stopped, and the two of them halted their steps right after.

“Lord Du.” The young servant bowed to the figure that had suddenly appeared ahead.

Shen Mengzhi glanced at Qi Yu, and the two of them followed the servant's example, also bowing. “Greetings, my lord.”

Du Changfu had been summoned by Li Sheng and didn't expect to run into outsiders here. He was taken aback for a moment, and looking at the two approaching men, he said, “At ease. And you two are?”

The young servant said, “They are the Grand Censor's honored guests.”

Du Changfu said, “Oh,” but his gaze swept toward Shen Mengzhi. The man was draped in a plain white fur cloak, his jet-black hair falling over his shoulders. The simple two-toned palette was as stunning as ink splashed on snow, or the moon reflecting in a cold abyss. His thick lashes were lowered, deliberately avoiding the gazes of others, and trembled lightly in the wind like the fluttering wings of a butterfly.

The wind blew the goose feathers on his collar down, and Shen Mengzhi raised a hand to cover it, as if unintentionally. But Du Changfu still caught a glimpse of the horrifying bruises on the skin of his neck.

His heart jolted, but he said nothing. He watched the two leave, then stood where he was, lost in thought.

The author has something to say:

Chu Jin!!! Your wife is being beaten!!! (shouting