Chapter 63: Could Something Have Happened in the Manor?

Cheng Guang had originally assumed that Song Yunqi and the other shadow guards would report his every move to Cheng Zhihai. He never expected that they merely recorded these movements in a ledger, which was then stored in the library. Perhaps Cheng Zhihai would occasionally summon Song Yunqi and his men to inquire about him, but for the most part, he relied on those records to track Cheng Guang’s recent whereabouts.

This, unexpectedly, was a pleasant surprise.

“Your Highness, do you wish to keep your movements hidden from the Chief?”

Song Yunqi, standing nearby, spoke and observed Cheng Guang’s silent contemplation, his brows furrowed in thought. Anxiety stirred within Song Yunqi’s heart.

He was a clever man and understood that, regardless of his own strength, he could never rival the status of the heir. Even though the Chief had them follow the heir to ensure his safety, surely the heir himself would not want every action reported to the Chief. No one desires to live under someone else’s surveillance, least of all a person of high birth.

Song Yunqi immediately grasped why Cheng Guang had summoned him.

His keen mind contrasted sharply with his rugged, robust appearance.

“So, what do you intend to do?”

Cheng Guang lifted his gaze and looked at Song Yunqi, neither confirming nor denying the suspicion, merely returning the question, which placed great pressure upon Song Yunqi.

In that moment, Song Yunqi felt as though he faced Cheng Zhihai himself.

After a brief silence, Song Yunqi decisively bowed his head and replied, “Your Highness, though we are shadow guards, we are also servants of the Duke’s household. The duties of the Lantern Division are important, but we must heed your wishes above all. We will cease to record your words and actions. If the Chief inquires, we will inform you in advance. However, for your safety, you must not leave the capital. We hope Your Highness can understand this.”

Song Yunqi was astute; serving as the heir’s guard, the only person he could not afford to offend was the heir himself. Moreover, the heir was the sole successor of the Duke’s household. In the future, he might command the northern army and the Lantern Division, wielding unimaginable power. Faced with such a figure, there was no reason to risk offense over such a trivial matter.

Cheng Guang nodded slightly; matters were progressing better than he had imagined.

He had thought these hidden guards were rigid and stubborn, that persuading them not to report his every movement would require considerable effort.

But Song Yunqi proved unexpectedly reasonable, sparing him any trouble.

It seemed the identity of the heir brought him tremendous convenience.

The previous heir, who had never practiced cultivation, might not even have realized how many guards watched over him. Otherwise, he would likely have taken control of them long ago.

After all, no one wants to live under another’s scrutiny.

Even if that person is their most beloved parent.

Cheng Guang waved his hand. “That’s enough, this will do. You’re not bad—go on.”

Song Yunqi, as if pardoned, breathed a sigh of relief, bowed once more, and vanished in a flash.

Once Song Yunqi departed, Cheng Guang sat upright on the stone bench, took up his tea cup, and sipped lightly.

He closed his eyes, allowing the fragrance of the tea to spread through his mouth.

His careful arrangements over the past few days were finally bearing fruit.

Now, all that remained was to find the true heir.

Cheng Guang’s eyes were half-closed as he gently rubbed his forehead, pondering his next moves and contingencies should anything unexpected occur.

The more plans, the better.

At least, if something happened suddenly, he would not be caught unprepared.

…

Outside the capital, not far from White Deer Manor, was Tianping Village.

In a corner of the village fields, a beggar sat.

His clothes were tattered, covered in patches, dull and faded. His long hair, uncombed for ages, hung in filthy ropes over his shoulders. His beard was wild, like a patch of untamed grass, starkly contrasting with his attire.

Yet his eyes were bright, belying his appearance as a beggar, and seemed to hold an undeniable nobility.

“Old Deng, old Deng, why haven’t you come back yet? If you don’t, I’ll starve to death.”

He stared at the sky, eyes wide and lips cracked, his voice hoarse.

“Liunian, you little rascal, sending an old man to steal sweet potatoes while you sit here waiting to eat?”

An old man hurried over, hearing the young man’s muttering and almost stamping his feet in anger.

The old man’s clothes were ragged, his face gaunt, eyes sunken with wrinkles crowding the corners, hair greying and disheveled, an air of neglect about him. His hands were bony, clutching several large sweet potatoes.

The young man, Liunian, instantly sat up at the old man’s voice, snatched the sweet potatoes from his arms, and began to build a fire to roast them.

As he roasted, he stared at the flames, swallowing hungrily.

“I tell you, old Deng, how could a dignified heir to the Duke’s household go stealing sweet potatoes?”

“You help me now; in the future, I’ll give you mountains of gold and silver, find you ten beautiful wives—there’ll be no end to your enjoyment.”

Old Deng couldn’t hold back a chuckle at this, immediately mocking him, “You? The Duke’s heir?”

“Take a look at yourself—what part of you resembles the heir to the Duke’s household?”

The young man’s mouth twitched, his face darkening. He had nothing on him to prove his identity.

At a loss for words, he turned his head away, unwilling to argue further with the old man.

Old Deng settled beside him and advised earnestly, “You should stop dreaming such impossible dreams. If you’re the Duke’s heir, then I’m the Emperor.”

“You don’t know—just now I passed a household in Tianping Village, where someone works as a guard for the Duke’s household. I heard he was favored by the heir and promoted to personal guard.”

“That heir has caused quite a stir in the capital lately—composing immortal verses at the Flower Pavilion, assisting the Lantern Division to capture a fox demon. Now, that is the real heir to the Duke.”

As Old Deng finished, the young man was momentarily stunned. “Ah? That heir… accomplished so much?”

Old Deng picked up a nearby branch, broke it, tossed it into the fire, and casually turned the roasting sweet potatoes.

“That’s right—the heir enjoys fine clothes and delicacies every day, accompanied by famous courtesans. His every move draws the attention of the whole capital. That’s what being an heir means. And you?”

“Following an old man like me, stealing a few sweet potatoes in the field and feeling satisfied.”

“If this counts as being an heir, it’s awfully shabby.”

As Old Deng spoke, the young man’s expression grew increasingly grim.

A surge of anger clouded his brow, and his heart was in turmoil from Old Deng’s words.

“Is what Old Deng said something my groom did?”

“That shouldn’t be possible—how could he leave the Duke’s household? Father wouldn’t have allowed me to leave.”

“Besides, when Father was treating my injuries, he would have noticed my double was a fake. He should have killed that groom by now, and sent someone to find me…”

“But… so much time has passed, and nothing has happened.”

“Could something have happened at the household…?”

“That’s why the groom still hasn’t been exposed?”

The young man muttered to himself, unable to make sense of it.

What could have happened to allow the groom to remain undiscovered, and even let Father permit him to leave?

…