Chapter 24: Many Imperial Princes

The city gate guards verified Cang Cang Yin Yue's token and asked several questions.

Finally, after glancing at Li Musheng—the handsome "fugitive" of the Six Gates Bureau—and recording the information, they allowed the two to enter the city.

Beyond the wide, lengthy gate passage, they stepped onto the city's cobblestone streets, where the hooves of mules and horses rang crisp and clear.

Soon, a roar of human voices surged toward them.

Li Musheng and Cang Cang Yin Yue rode side by side along the street; ahead, pedestrians flowed like a river, carriages and horses crowded the thoroughfares, shops lined both sides with banners fluttering, stretching endlessly.

"Eat first upon entering the city—I'll report your situation to the Hidden Spy Bureau."

Cang Cang Yin Yue brought Li Musheng to a bustling tavern, ordered several dishes from the waiter, then left Li Musheng alone and vanished into the tavern's back courtyard.

Li Musheng didn't mind—the Hidden Spy Bureau claimed to be the Empire's top intelligence agency, yet had no official government office.

All its spies and infiltrators held countless public identities, but their true identities remained hidden, visible only in the shadows.

While waiting for the food to arrive, Li Musheng sat in the private room, sipping the tavern's free tea, listening to the patrons' loud or hushed chatter.

In places crowded with people, one always heard interesting tidbits—and explosive rumors, impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood.

……

"Did you hear? The Polar Pavilion has another Seventh Imperial Prince—hmm, that's the sixty-first prince to appear in just the past month!"

"That's right—I remember when I first heard someone claimed to have found the long-lost Seventh Prince, I even went to see for myself. Turns out it was a mistake; he wasn't the real prince. Since then, so many princes have turned up, I've grown numb to it."

"These days, some people just want to leap straight to the top. I say, anyone claiming to be a prince should be charged with treason and executed publicly."

"You can't say that—what if you accidentally execute the real Seventh Prince?"

"I say, just stop looking for the real prince. The one locked up in prison has extraordinary literary and martial talent—he's our true dragon, our true sovereign. That so-called prince who wandered the streets for twenty years? He's probably just an ignorant vagrant now. Bringing him back would only shame the imperial family."

"Shh—you dare say that? Watch out—the Heaven Brocade Guard will throw you in prison and cut off your head."

"What's there to fear? My uncle-in-law once served beside the Seventh Prince. He told me many times—the Seventh Prince will surely become our Great Li's next… Ming… Jun… cough… cough…"

A young Young Master in a sapphire brocade robe, face flushed from drink, was speaking when someone quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, causing him to choke on his wine.

The shock jolted him sober—he realized he'd spoken foolishly after drinking, and immediately fell silent.

But just then, the door to his private room was suddenly kicked open.

Three figures stepped in—the lead man was a youth with a sinister face.

On one side stood a woman in a green luó gown, her features lovely but her gaze cold.

On the other side stood a massive, tower-like man, broad-shouldered with a tiger's whiskers, over seven feet tall.

The man who kicked the door scanned the five men in the room and growled:

"I just heard someone speaking treasonously about the Imperial Prince and Your Majesty. That's a grave crime. Come with me to the prefecture office."

Zhang He was about to rise and speak, but a man beside him in blue robes held him back and bowed:

"Sir, you must have misheard. We've been drinking here, discussing poetry and verse—absolutely nothing about princes or Your Majesty."

At these words, the other three and Zhang He immediately nodded vigorously:

"That's right—we were just drinking, chatting, composing poems."

Then Zhang He's eyes flashed, and he shouted louder:

"Who are you? Why burst into our private room? Are you deliberately provoking us?"

The big man snorted coldly and snapped:

"You're good at lying. We heard every word you said—clear as day—from across the way."

Saying this, he reached out to grab Zhang He—he clearly recognized Zhang He's voice as the speaker.

"You dare touch me? My uncle-in-law is Vice Minister of Revenue! Hurt me, and you'll lose your head!"

Zhang He had some martial training—he shouted angrily and leapt backward.

But the big man's grip was like iron pincers—his hand shot forward as his body blurred into a swift leap.

Zhang He was too slow—he was about to be caught when the blue-robed man suddenly punched, his fist slicing through the air like a blade, aimed straight at the big man's temple.

Sensing the threat, the big man abandoned Zhang He, dodged sideways, and twisted his claw into a strike aimed at the blue-robed man's chest.

Soon, they exchanged dozens of blows, locked in fierce combat.

The table's fine dishes and wine were overturned; chairs and tables shattered under the force of fists and claws.

The sinister youth and the green-gowned woman stood by the door, motionless.

Zhang He and the other three pressed against the wall, too afraid to intervene.

Just then, after trading a punch with the blue-robed man, the big man suddenly kicked sideways—his foot smashed through a wooden partition wall.

Private rooms in the tavern were separated by thick wooden panels; the wall collapsed with a crash, revealing the scene in the adjacent room.

"You said you were composing poetry? Then let's hear what the people next door heard—what exactly did they hear just now?"

The big man grunted, struck a blow to push back the blue-robed man, then swiftly retreated toward the door.

Seeing this, the blue-robed man's expression changed, but he stopped fighting and did not pursue—only stepped beside Zhang He.

In the adjacent room sat a woman, who didn't even glance at the fallen wall—she simply sipped her tea in silence.

"Miss, did you hear those arrogant, rebellious words? Please speak up and testify."

The green-gowned woman stepped forward and addressed the woman in the next room.

At this, Zhang He's eyes flickered with panic—he shouted loudly:

"My uncle-in-law is Vice Minister of Revenue!"

His meaning was clear—he hoped to intimidate the woman next door into silence.

The green-gowned woman glanced at Zhang He, then pulled out a badge:

"Miss, don't be afraid—we're from the Six Gates Bureau."

(End of Chapter)