Xie Lian found the idea both hilarious and horrifying. He shook his head. “With a temper like that, if he entered the Royal Holy Temple, he would cause havoc for sure.”
Both mother and son were deeply troubled by this, but they didn’t have any ideas, so they let it go for the time being. That evening, after having seen his parents and caught up, Xie Lian rose to leave the palace.
It was a well-known fact that the crown prince was obsessed with cultivation, and ever since he entered the Royal Holy Temple, he visited his parents less and less. The king didn’t comment much on the matter, but the queen was always reluctant to see him go. After leaving the palace, Xie Lian casually strolled around the imperial capital accompanied by Mu Qing to visit his home as he’d suggested the day before.
The tall, opulent red gates and the impoverished slums were only a street away from each other. Mu Qing’s former home was tucked into a dark alley off the most bustling area of the imperial capital.
The three of them had just turned into the alley when five or six children in rags surrounded them. “Gege! Gege is back!”
Xie Lian was a little confused at first, wondering why they would call a stranger “gege.” But then he discovered that the “gege” they were calling to wasn’t him but rather Mu Qing. The children called out to him sweetly, but Mu Qing ignored them.
“There’s nothing this time. Don’t ‘gege’ me so easily.” His face was wooden, but his voice wasn’t cold. He turned to Xie Lian. “Don’t mind them, Your Highness, they’re just kids from the block.”
Still, this group of children obviously knew him well, so they were clearly used to playing with him and weren’t scared at all. They giggled and surrounded them, their dirty little hands extended, begging for treats from Mu Qing. In the end, Mu Qing reached for the gem-like red cherries in his bag and handed them out.
Feng Xin was astonished at this sight, as if Mu Qing doing anything like this was nothing short of a miracle. It was no wonder, since Mu Qing’s pretty-boy face always looked extremely selfish and coldhearted; he seemed like the type that, seeing someone die from starvation on the streets, would still keep a tight grip on his own food.
Xie Lian, on the other hand, wasn’t surprised at all.
At first, he also wanted to find something to give to the children. But he didn’t usually carry sweets on his person, and having Feng Xin give coins would be too much like dismissing beggars, so Xie Lian didn’t think it would be appropriate.
Suddenly, there was a boom and a cacophony of galloping noises from the main street, the long shrieking whinny of a horse, and people screaming.
The three of them stopped, then Xie Lian rushed out of the alley. The main street was in chaos; stalls toppled and people on the ground—it was total confusion. The pedestrians were all fleeing, and red apples and yellow pears rolled all over the ground. But before he could figure out what was happening, he heard the crazed laughter of a young man.
“OUT OF MY WAY, GET OUT OF MY WAY! IF YOU’RE THAT BLIND, I DON’T CARE IF YOU GET TRAMPLED!”
Feng Xin swore. “It’s Qi Rong again!”
Sure enough, Qi Rong stood atop his magnificent golden carriage looking malicious. He was lashing his whip wildly, the white horse howling from the strikes.
“Stop him!” Xie Lian shouted.
The golden carriage whooshed by them, and Feng Xin acknowledged with an “Understood!” before charging on ahead. Xie Lian was about to go check for any wounded among all the toppled stalls and knocked-over pedestrians left in the wake of Qi Rong’s mad ride, when suddenly he noticed something wrong. He whipped his head around and saw that there was something being dragged along behind the golden carriage, attached with a long, thick hemp rope. At the end of the rope was a large sack that appeared to have something struggling inside.
It looked like there was a person in that sack.
At that moment, Xie Lian could only feel his blood run cold. The next second, he rushed forward.
From all the whipping, that white horse was galloping like it was running for its life, furiously spinning the wheels of the carriage. Feng Xin was trying to hold the horse back but probably wouldn’t be able to stop it immediately. Xie Lian raced up to the carriage in only a few steps, unsheathed his sword, and struck down. The rope snapped in two, and the sack dropped to the ground, rolled, and came to a stop.
Xie Lian bent forward to inspect it. The sack had been dragged for who knows how long and was torn from the scraping. It was extremely dirty and drenched in blood; it looked like a bag for a dead body.