275 Aftermath and the Detective

Yujia helped Yufeng stuff A'Yan's mouth up with rags, throw him into a wheelbarrow, and cover him up with a large stack of hay. Then, she stepped back.

The festival was going on, so Yujia figured that even if any strange noises or movements came from the wheelbarrow, no one would be too suspicious. Besides, Xie Yufeng tied up A'Yan awfully well, so Yujia doubted that A'Yan had the capabilities to move too well.

As Yujia stared at the wheelbarrow, she made a comment. "You've done this before?" 

Yufeng turned around to her, eyebrows slightly lifted. "No. Why?"

"Just… you seemed experienced."

"Well, I've seen many things, so I suppose you could consider that my experience." Yufeng dusted her hands, then went to push the wheelbarrow. 

She didn't need to exchange any more words with Yujia, so while Yufeng went to deliver someone to a nice location, Yujia decided to head back to the North Courtyard.

…

Lianye was still asleep. 

Yujia took a seat on the side, pouring a cup of cold tea, her hand almost slipping. She blinked, straightening her back, and stared at Lianye.

She already did everything she could at the moment, Yujia assured herself. But still, a part of her heart wished that she could do something more. There was a heavy feeling in her heart that was difficult to describe, a feeling that was tight, stifling, and uncomfortable. 

Yujia wanted to say that Lianye was safe. That nothing too bad happened. Except, she knew that this was just a lie. 

How could things possibly be fine?

Raising the cup of tea to her lips, Yujia paused. She didn't have the stomach to take anything in right now. The cup was lowered back to the table.

…

It was a festival of lights, yet there was only darkness underneath the hay. It smelt horrible in the barrow, damp, molded wood pressed up against his face. The strands of hay all around him poked at his skin and face. A'Yan tried to move, twisting his wrist to fumble at the ropes tied around them, but the bonds were too secure. He couldn't move more than just a wriggle. 

He struggled for a few minutes before giving up.

The creaking wheels of the wheelbarrow squeaked. Coupled with that sound was the noise of people walking and chatting. He knew that they had entered the general streets already. 

Attempting to cry out for help, A'Yan discovered that he truly couldn't move his mouth at all, with the rags stuffed in them.

Dammit. Dammit all. 

Helplessly, A'Yan thought about his belongings. He wished that he had a knife on him, except, he only had a satchel of a few taels, part of his savings. 

He didn't even do anything wrong. That Lianye asked for it. She was practically throwing herself over him all the time. He reckoned that she would've even enjoyed it. Women were liars like that.

The sound of chattering grew quieter and quieter, replaced by the irregular clicking of the wheel on the ground. Finally, the wheelbarrow came to a stop. The hay tossed all over him, pricking at his eyes, was lifted, and he was grabbed by the ropes around him. 

"Stand up," that girl commanded him, pulling him out of the wheelbarrow.

She tied ropes around his legs and ankles too. She knew that he couldn't stand, not when those ropes were bound like that.

A'Yan fell to the ground, struggling to rise with difficulty, a curse he couldn't mutter stifled by the rags. He glared up at her, fueling all the seething hatred in his glare. 

"Well then," she said, "I must've forgotten that you were tied like that. You'll have to crawl like a worm, I suppose."

He didn't break his glare. She would regret it. He swore that she would. Once he was unbound, he would slaughter her. He would kill her, slowly and painfully, cut by cut.

Seeing that he didn't move, the girl went up to the door they were next to, knocking at it. A few seconds passed, and then, the door opened with a creak.

A heavy man stood at the other side, his round cheeks red and a jug of wine by his side. He took a look at the girl, and instantly, despite his drunken look, recognition appeared in his eyes.

"Why, isn't it the prince's Xianyue? How is the Prince of Qing[1] doing?" he asked.

She visibly stiffened up. "I no longer serve under the Prince of Qing. And if anyone asks, do not mention our meeting today."

The man seemed to understand her immediately. He nodded. "Of course. I am indebted to you. This, I can do."

Hearing their exchange of words, thoughts were furiously racing in A'Yan's mind. Prince of Qing? Xianyue? What was this? This girl— he was pretty sure her name was not Xianyue. 

"What are you here for today? Paying me a visit during the festival?" the man continued. He waved his jug of wine. "I do happen to have some good wine."

"Perhaps." She smiled. "But I actually have another request for you." Her eyes slid to A'Yan. "Please castrate him." 

The man's gaze followed hers, widening when he noticed the existence of A'Yan. "Right now?"

"Preferably, yes."

"But I have been having a few drinks, so my skills might be a bit sloppy. Also, it has just rained a while back— the damp air is not safe for the procedure. He could die," the man's voice trailed off.

She shrugged her shoulders. "If he dies, then all the better. And if he doesn't, then you have a eunuch to earn some money with."

The man nodded thoughtfully. "Alright. I like the sound of that."

He took a few steps forward, gripping at the ropes around A'Yan and pulling him up to a kneeling position. The man bent down, observing A'Yan's face and pulling the rags stuffed in his mouth out. 

Immediately, a string of words came out of A'Yan. "Please, save me! That woman is insane. I didn't agree to this!" 

The man pressed his mouth into a line. "Young man, I don't know what you did, but Xianyue would not send someone here without reason. You might as well cooperate with the procedure instead of struggling. It will go easier for you."

He untied the ropes around A'Yan's legs, allowing A'Yan to stand. 

By the side, the girl remarked, "Perhaps you should stuff his mouth back up. His words are a nuisance."

"Perhaps," the man agreed, reaching to stuff A'Yan's mouth up again. 

Before he could do so, A'Yan cried out, "I can pay you! Please, just let me go."

The man paused at this, to A'Yan's relief. "Pay me? How much?"

A'Yan glanced over at the girl. Not a fleck of worry could be seen in her expression. He ignored that, going on, "I have five taels on me right now, but I have more savings back home! Just let me go, and I can give you all of that."

Upon hearing this, the man almost instantly broke out in a large roar of laughter. A'Yan could smell the alcohol in his breath. When the man's laughter finally ceded, he grinned at A'Yan with yellow teeth.

"Five silver? Please, the palace pays me at least a hundred taels a month for supplying eunuchs to them. Your measly money is nothing."

At the end of his words, he forcefully stuffed the rags back into A'Yan's mouth. The hope in A'Yan's eyes vanished, replaced by pure terror. Muffled sounds of pleading came from him, along with a lot of struggling.

"You are right, his words are a nuisance. But an amusing one, I must say. Five taels— the best joke I have heard in a long while," the man guffawed. 

"I'll leave you with him, then. Thank you," the girl said.

"Of course," the man replied. 

She bowed slightly, then turned to leave. A'Yan's head twisted from the man to her, almost wishing that she took him with her. 

He couldn't believe this. This couldn't be happening right now. This couldn't be real.

He turned back to the man, who was grinning again. 

"Come along now," the man beckoned, "There is a long night ahead of you. I never use any numbing medicine on my patients, and my wine supply is running low, so be prepared for some pain, alright?"

[1] "Prince", in this context, refers to "Wang". He is not discussing a son of the current emperor, but rather the current emperor's brother, who was given the title of the "Prince of Qing".