Chapter Thirty-Two: Fire Breakout

How interesting!

Xiao Jichen walked briskly back to his usual private room. He rested his hand on the table laden with fine food and wine, his fingers lightly brushing his forehead, and took the wine cup offered by a beauty, bringing it to his lips with a nonchalant air. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on the opera performance on stage. It was this composed demeanor that kept anyone from suspecting that his thoughts had absolutely nothing to do with the play.

He had not left his home for the past two days, not because he had listened to Xiao Feinan (the Junior Tutor), but because he was waiting to see how things would unfold. The men he had sent to keep watch suspected that the "half-immortal" Xiao Feinan had encountered that day was the work of the Meng family’s daughter, though they had no proof. He could never quite fathom that girl from the Meng family. So, he waited—waited for the moment the Marquis of Chengwu would find a way to force him out, just to see what the person behind the scenes would do.

When he saw the Meng girl in the room, his confusion only deepened. He had wanted to test her; if she had succumbed to him, he would have killed her on the spot. Was it the Marquis of Chengwu who had swapped daughters to lure him, or did the Grand Princess Jingyi have some ulterior motive? But when she resisted him, and given her urgency regarding Zhao Zhizhi, he confirmed that she was indeed the one behind the "half-immortal." She had sabotaged the Marquis's plan out of concern for her younger sister. Since the enemy of an enemy is a temporary friend, a cooperation was certainly possible.

This incident also revealed that the Grand Princess Jingyi and her disciple had trained many experts, and had even groomed this daughter of hers! This was something he had to guard against. If they discovered any clues that the Prince of Chen was still alive, things would surely turn dire.

And then there was his mother's legacy. Everything that should have been kept was already in his own residence; how could Xiao Feinan have any of it? Did Xiao Feinan not know that he couldn't fool him? Had he not made secondary arrangements by sending men to follow him in secret the moment he left the house? A man who chose marriage for the sake of power and profit, who killed his wife to remarry for the same, and who shamelessly pinned his crimes on his own child—how could such a man possess anything of his mother’s?

The more Xiao Jichen thought about it, the angrier he became, his hand tightening around the wine cup. Just then, the waiter who had come in to serve food witnessed this scene. Seeing the cup about to shatter, he hurriedly stepped forward with a wide smile and asked, "Young Master, is the play not to your liking?"

He took a catalog from the tray held by the waiter behind him, opened it, and pointed. "This performance is excellent. It has been running for four or five shows today and just concluded. If it catches your fancy, I can have them return."

Nonsense—not to mention the deduction from his monthly wages if the cup broke, this Third Young Master Xiao was a VIP of the opera house. It wouldn't do to let him be unhappy!

Hearing the waiter's voice, Xiao Jichen reined in his emotions and loosened his grip, casting a bored, impatient glance toward him. In truth, he detested these repetitive plays. Visiting brothels, listening to operas, and all manner of merrymaking were merely roles he played as a dissolute youth to facilitate the gathering of information. He was, in fact, quite weary of it all...

Just as this thought crossed his mind, his impatient gaze paused. He was drawn to the name on the list. There was a brief summary of the plot, and Xiao Jichen found himself captivated, his previous anger replaced by curiosity. "Yes, this one," he nodded.

The waiter chirped an acknowledgment. As he folded the catalog, Xiao Jichen noticed the pseudonym: 'Of all the monkeys on the mountain, my rear is the reddest...'

What a... fascinating playwright.

Perhaps it was the way one extreme reminded him of another, much like how one longs for winter in the sweltering heat of summer. Xiao Jichen unconsciously thought of Meng Zhenyue, his thick, sword-like brows furrowing as he mused: Her writing must be the other extreme—dull and flavorless, no doubt?

***

Night fell at the Marquis of Chengwu’s estate.

"Miss, it seems the Marquis has many matters to attend to and cannot finish for a while. Perhaps we should return first," Bai Yuchan said, carrying a food box and tenderly wrapping a cloak around her mistress.

"Father is still working so late; I must show my filial piety," Zhao Zhizhi replied, shaking her head and glancing toward the study. Her handkerchief, dampened by the cold sweat in her palms, betrayed her nervousness, but for the sake of her future, she could not turn back.

She and her sister had not told Bai Yuchan of their plan to avoid implicating her. Her sister had said that this method would be most effective when their father was in a state of urgency. Having been watching her father closely, she had noticed that he, who usually prided himself on his dignified appearance, had arrived at the study in a rush, his hair held up only by a simple pin instead of his official golden coronet. Thus, her father must be in a great hurry!

Sure enough, after getting the pre-prepared food from the kitchen, she had waited outside the study for quite some time. Staring at the tightly shut door, a bold thought took root in her mind: should she just... force her way in?

As she struggled with her thoughts, a sudden 'click' sounded, and the door opened. Several people walked out, among them her father’s servant, Yaowang.

"Second Miss, you may go in now."

Zhao Zhizhi nodded, took the food box from Bai Yuchan, and stepped inside with a soft sigh.

"Father, why are you still working so late?" Zhao Zhizhi offered a curtsy and walked to the Marquis’s side. With great care, she took out the items from the food box and said in a gentle voice, "I had the kitchen prepare some refreshing cold dishes. Please, Father, have a taste."

The Marquis of Chengwu, about to take a sip of tea, was suddenly hit by the rich aroma of sesame oil. It was so intense that it overpowered the scent of the tea at his lips. Curious, he looked up, but before he could see clearly, Zhizhi leaned forward, and she and the tray tumbled over!

Inside the room, there were several loud 'bangs'.

The Marquis was startled and hurriedly rose to help his daughter up. "There is no need for this; let the servants do it!"

But his daughter seemed to have twisted her ankle, crying and wailing, unable to find her footing. After much struggle, the Marquis decided to pick her up. Just then, servants who had heard the commotion rushed in, shouting, "Fire! There is a fire!"

The Marquis’s face paled again. As he held his daughter and turned to look, he realized a fire had started somewhere, and it was already spreading to the curtains! No wonder he had felt a strange warmth behind him...

The study instantly descended into chaos. Servants shouted for water, and secret guards leapt from the rafters to retrieve confidential documents. The Marquis hurriedly tried to pass his daughter to a servant who had come to protect him. His study contained many secrets that could not be exposed!

Yet, his daughter in his arms struggled and cried to be put down. "No, no, Father, put me down! It was my fault, I must help put out the fire too."

The Marquis, anxious and with servants around, did not pay it much mind. "Yaowang, give the order! Watch the study; no unauthorized persons are allowed inside!" The Marquis scanned the bustling servants, his voice sharp as he watched the flames grow higher.

Watching all of this, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Just then, a woman's voice rang out from the door: "What is happening here?"

It was Meng Zhenyue. She pushed the maid beside her, saying, "Quick! Go and help!" Then, she rolled up her own sleeves and stepped forward to help move items.

Because she was his daughter and was not going near the area where the confidential documents were kept, the Marquis did not stop her, assuming that a girl raised in the countryside was simply accustomed to hard work.