Chapter Sixty-Three: A Gentleman Does Not Intervene

A little nun is actually a Tang princess? With such a flat chest, could she really be called Princess Taiping?

He Chang’an was a bit bewildered.

“Princess Taiping is a good child. She was originally born to the Empress, but—well, never mind that for now. Let’s first find a way to get her out of danger.” Li Yishan hesitated, then led He Chang’an quietly closer to the abandoned mansion.

“This used to be Princess Taiping’s residence. After she was demoted to commoner, the estate fell into disuse.”

So she really is called Princess Taiping…

He Chang’an followed behind Li Yishan, extending his spiritual sense to cover the area within a hundred paces, wary of any possible ambush.

Having watched too many palace intrigue dramas, he was all too clear: anything involving the royal family or the inner palace was always a tangled web. One careless step and he might lose his life.

He Chang’an silently grumbled, convinced Li Yishan had dragged him into this mess out of sheer lack of conscience. If not for Lord Zheng’s orders, he wouldn’t have gotten involved at all.

All I want is to keep my head down, develop my skills until I can protect myself, drink wine, arrange flowers, listen to songs in pleasure quarters…

Li Yishan: Boy, your thinking is wrong. A true man stands tall in the world—how can you live only to hide and scrape by?

Confucian minor divine power—Minds Aligned.

He Chang’an: To hell with you, I don’t want to talk to you.

Li Yishan: I am the Supreme Sage of the Daoist sect, of course you wouldn’t want to talk to me.

He Chang’an: Fine…

Li Yishan: Once we rescue the little nun, I’ll play matchmaker for you two.

He Chang’an: She’s so young…

Li Yishan: She’s not that young—she’s seventeen by nominal age.

He Chang’an: But so flat…

Li Yishan: Her name is Taiping… You rascal, what are you thinking? The princess was right about you, you’re just a spring radish—spoiled deep down!

There was no way this conversation could continue.

He Chang’an decisively withdrew from the “group chat.” With a leap, he vaulted the high wall of the abandoned estate, landing lightly and scanning the surroundings with caution.

This former “Princess’s Residence” wasn’t large, but even in its dilapidated state, with its buildings, corridors, gardens, and artificial hills, it was still clearly a luxury villa by Chang’an’s standards.

So the Tang dynasty is already in decline—even a princess’s residence isn’t as luxurious as one might imagine.

He Chang’an activated his spiritual eyes twice, but found little of value. The relentless snowfall had covered nearly all traces.

“Under the floorboards of that room, there’s a hidden passage. I suspect the princess was ambushed,” Li Yishan whispered.

“Scholar, speak to me directly with sound transmission,” He Chang’an shot Li Yishan a glare, communicating in secret.

“Alright, alright, sound transmission,” Li Yishan nodded repeatedly, following behind as they both searched for clues.

“There’s a lingering wisp of sinister energy beneath the floorboards. Quickly gather your righteous aura…”

He Chang’an suddenly halted, blocking Li Yishan’s way. He activated his spiritual eyes once more.

As expected, beneath the lifted floorboards, dark wisps of energy seeped from the entrance to a hidden tunnel, already dissipating into nothing.

He Chang’an gestured for Li Yishan to step out. He intended to use his little black rod to refine and track the sinister energy, and it was inconvenient with Li Yishan present.

Li Yishan quietly withdrew.

He Chang’an closed the door behind him, stepped forward, and activated the black rod, directing it at the black wisps…

Half an hour later, He Chang’an limped out of the room, leaning against the wall, his face pale.

“Well, Chang’an, how did it go?” Li Yishan sidled up with a nervous smile, only to be stopped by He Chang’an’s outstretched hand.

“Scholar, have some self-respect.” He Chang’an shot him a disdainful look, pushing the old man’s face aside. In a low voice, he communicated, “This case—we can’t solve it.”

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“Damn it, it was someone from the palace!”

“Of course, I knew someone from the inner palace was involved. Well, did you find her?”

“Found her. She’s in the Lotus Garden.”

“Knew it—it’s her!”

“Who?”

“Her Majesty.”

“Which Her Majesty?”

Li Yishan fell silent, glancing sideways at He Chang’an with a look of pity, as if he were looking at a fool.

Back at the Demon Slayers’ Bureau, He Chang’an saw Lord Zheng for the second time. As before, the old man sat by the brazier, reading a book and warming himself.

After He Chang’an’s report, Lord Zheng appeared to have already seen through everything, not even bothering to lift his eyelids.

“Lord Zheng, there’s nothing more for me to do here. I’ll return to the Demon Suppression Tower,” He Chang’an bowed, preparing to slip away.

Now that the matter had reached the level of “Her Majesty,” it was far beyond the jurisdiction of a lowly Yellow-ranked demon slayer like himself. If he kept following Li Yishan, he’d be swindled out of everything sooner or later…

“Hey, you brat! You can’t go!” Li Yishan grew anxious, grabbing He Chang’an’s sleeve. “We still need you to save her.”

“Who am I supposed to save? As the saying goes, a gentleman does not rescue…” He Chang’an said coldly.

What a joke—if it’s beyond my abilities, it’s not rescuing someone, it’s just sending myself to my death…

“A gentleman may leave but not be trapped; may be deceived but not hoodwinked,” He Chang’an said with a miserable face. “Brother Yishan, please let me off this time…

Here, I have five hundred taels of silver—my advance salary for a year. It’s all yours…”

“What use do I have for silver?” Li Yishan was indignant. He righteously told He Chang’an that not just five hundred taels, but even five thousand or fifty thousand, meant nothing to him.

“Isn’t that right, Lord Zheng?”

“Mm, I don’t believe you,” Lord Zheng replied blandly, not even looking up.

Li Yishan’s old face stiffened; he gave a dry laugh. “This time really is different.”

“When is it ever not different?” Lord Zheng snorted. “Fine, I’ll help you one more time.”

At last, Lord Zheng put down his book, looked up with a half-smile, and gazed at Li Yishan. “Lend me that book for a few days…”

“No, no!” Li Yishan shook his head like a rattle-drum, furiously jabbing a finger at Lord Zheng’s nose. “I knew you were after my book all along!”

“What do you call this, He Chang’an, you be the judge—is this not taking advantage of someone in distress, kicking a man when he’s down?” Li Yishan’s white hair bristled as he turned to He Chang’an.

He Chang’an pretended not to hear, fetched a basket of charcoal from the corner, and added a few pieces to the already blazing brazier.

Then he stood silently in the distance.

Eyes on his nose, nose on his heart, heart without distractions…

Li Yishan glared at Lord Zheng, then at He Chang’an, before suddenly laughing. “Three hundred cash in your sleeve, and you call yourself a venerable elder! Truly in the style of the Great Tang Demon Slayers’ Bureau;

He Chang’an, don’t you feel any shame?”

“Have you forgotten the princess’s deep and abiding affection for you?”

“Have you forgotten those oaths by the sea and moonlit rendezvous among the flowers?”

“As expected, scholars are the most heartless. You scoundrel He Chang’an, you joined the Demon Slayers’ Bureau and didn’t learn any of the good, only the slippery ways of a street rat…”

“I’m telling you, if anything happens to the little princess, I’ll be your mortal enemy!”

He Chang’an could barely restrain himself.

That little nun—so young, so flat—when did he, He Chang’an, ever make oaths by the sea or stroll beneath the moon with her?

If word of this got out…