Chapter 77: I Will Accompany You (2/2)

Just as she reached for the teapot to pour a third cup, Duan Ling pressed his hand over hers.

She looked up.

His lips were red, his teeth white, one hand holding the flower while the other still rested on hers.

The way he tilted his gaze up at her made him look more like a courtesan than the actual performers on stage, his smile enough to steal a person’s soul.

“You’re hot?” he asked.

Lin Ting felt as if a feather had brushed the back of her hand, the tickling sensation seeping straight into her chest.

She grew even warmer and hastily pulled her hand away.

“Yes, I’m hot.”

Though the capital had cooled with the season, Ancheng hadn’t yet-though it wasn’t truly warm enough to justify her discomfort.

Duan Ling’s smile faded slightly as he withdrew his hand, then slowly poured her another cup of chilled tea himself.

“What do you think of the tavern’s performances?”

Lin Ting had watched attentively at first, but her thoughts soon drifted back to last night.

Now, with noon approaching and their meeting with Jin Anazi at the teahouse looming, she had even less focus to spare.

“They’re alright.”

“Which one did you like best?”

She hadn’t paid close attention, only recalling the first act.

But saying she liked the first might seem half-hearted—it had been fairly ordinary, aside from the performer’s excessive enthusiasm.

Better not pick the first one, then.

“The third,” she decided.

Duan Ling blinked and asked: “The third?”

Something in his tone made her heart skip.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t like the third one?”

She couldn’t just take it back now.

He picked up her used teacup and poured himself a drink.

“So you enjoy that kind of performance.”

That kind?

What was the third act?

She couldn’t ask him that would reveal she hadn’t been watching at all.

If not for Duan Ling’s presence, she might’ve grabbed a random bystander to demand an explanation.

Duan Ling glanced at the time.

“It’s almost noon. Shouldn’t we head to the teahouse?”

Business came first.

Lin Ting pushed the matter aside.

“Right, we should go.”

If Jin Anazi saw them arriving together, he likely wouldn’t risk showing himself outright-he’d find another way to pass along his message.

The teahouse was bustling with customers.

They sat at a table closest to the front, where Lin Ting deliberately ordered a plate of sunflower seeds and a pot of tea with an air of nonchalance.

Duan Ling sat leisurely beside her.

Lin Ting pretended to look around curiously, ostensibly admiring the teahouse decor while actually scanning the crowd.

“I didn’t get a good look yesterday, but today-this teahouse is quite elegant.”

Duan Ling glanced at her, surveyed the teahouse, and smiled.

“Not bad.”

At that moment, the storyteller struck the wooden gavel sharply before raising his voice.

“Today, I shall tell the tale of an upright official. But first, let me ask-have any of you heard of the Ying family?”

The audience replied, “We’ve only heard of noble clans like the Longxi Li or Langya Wang families. Never the Ying family.”

The storyteller stroked his beard and sighed.

“Ah, it seems none of you know of them.”

Lin Ting had never heard of Ying Zhihe either.

To show she was paying attention, she turned to Duan Ling.

“Have you heard of them?”

Duan Ling seemed lost in thought.

“My father mentioned them when I was a child.”

“And then?”

He replied flatly, “He only said the Ying family were rare good officials. A pity. That’s all.”

The storyteller struck the gavel again.

“The noble clans you just mentioned have roots stretching back centuries, but the Ying family was different like a flash in the pan. They lasted only a few years, spanning two dynasties, upheld by a single man.”

His voice rang with conviction.

“That man was Ying Zhihe. Born into poverty, he studied diligently for years, achieving the highest honors in the imperial exams. As an official, he governed with integrity for the people. After the fall of the previous dynasty, he remained in office under Great Yan.”

“But not for fame or survival-only to continue serving the people. Logically, such an official should be immortalized in history. So why did he vanish without a trace?”

The storyteller spun his tale with measured grace.

As Lin Ting listened, she kept scanning the room.

It was already noon-had Jin Anazi spotted her yet?

The storyteller’s voice echoed in her ears.

“Just as Ying Zhihe was on the verge of rising higher, disaster struck. The Ying family vanished overnight-dozens of people in the household disappeared into thin air. How could people just vanish without a trace?”

“Even the authorities couldn’t find answers. There were no signs of intruders-all their belongings remained untouched. Only the people were gone.”

The audience grew intrigued.

“Did Ying Zhihe disappear too?”

Pleased to have hooked their interest, the storyteller nodded.

“Indeed, Ying Zhihe vanished as well. Some say it was the work of ghosts, others that the Ying family offended someone powerful, erased without a trace in a single night.”

“But the truth remains unknown… To learn what happened next, stay tuned for the next installment.”

The gavel landed heavily on the table.

The crowd erupted in discontent.

“Can’t you finish the story today?”

But the storyteller left.

The noon storytelling session had ended, yet Lin Ting still hadn’t seen Jin Anazi in the teahouse.

Nor had he relayed any news about Xia Zimo through other means.

Could something have gone wrong?

Duan Ling glanced at her.

“The storyteller’s gone. Are you staying?”

At this point, Lin Ting had no choice but to extract Xia Zimo’s whereabouts from him.

Only half a day remained-time wouldn’t wait.

“You…”

Several men passed by her, gossiping:

“I heard that the young master Xia from the capital went to the pleasure house today to drown his sorrows. Should we go take a look? Maybe we can get acquainted with him.”

Lin Ting’s expression changed abruptly upon hearing the words “young master Xia” and “pleasure house.”

Xia Zimo actually dared to visit a brothel?

Before leaving the capital, he had gone to see Duan Xinning with such reluctance, yet now in Ancheng, he was visiting a pleasure house?

Where did he get the nerve!

She was going to beat him until his teeth scattered on the ground.

Lin Ting immediately stopped the men and asked coldly, “Where is this pleasure house you mentioned?”

Though she was beautiful, the men stuttered at her aggressive demeanor and told the truth:

“Exit the teahouse, turn right, take a bend, and go straight-that’s the pleasure house we mentioned.”

Lin Ting strode out with purpose.

Duan Ling also heard their conversation and grabbed her:

“Are you going to find young master Xia?”

Thinking of the upcoming plot where Duan Xinning and Xia Zimo would reconcile, Lin Ting was furious.

Clenching her fists, she called him by name:

“How dare Xia Zimo sneak off to a brothel behind Lingyun’s back? I’m going to teach him a lesson.”

Duan Ling, calm and almost indifferent in crises, habitually masked it with gentleness:

“But they aren’t engaged. What young master Xia does has nothing to do with Lingyun or the Duan family.”

Lin Ting wasn’t just going for the mission now she was doing it for Duan Xinning too:

“I don’t care. I’m going to deal with him.”

“For Lingyun’s sake?”

“What else?”

If not for the mission and Duan Xinning, Lin Ting wouldn’t have anything to do with Xia Zimo again—she found him repulsive.

Seeing her determination, Duan Ling didn’t stop her but followed her to the pleasure house.

After they left, Jin Anazi emerged from the shadows of the teahouse and paid the men who had gossiped in front of Lin Ting.

Ordinary people wouldn’t know Xia Zimo’s exact whereabouts.

It was Jin Anazi, noticing Duan Ling by Lin Ting’s side, who had hired these men to spread the news in such a gossipy manner.

Lin Ting didn’t see Jin Anazi.

Furious upon hearing Xia Zimo was at the brothel and eager to confront him, she hadn’t noticed anything amiss yet.

Jin Anazi slowly walked out of the teahouse, watching Lin Ting and Duan Ling’s retreating figures.

Halfway there, Lin Ting felt someone’s gaze on her back.

Turning around, she saw no one at the teahouse entrance.

She paused, and Duan Ling stopped too:

“Why the sudden stop? Not going to the pleasure house anymore?”

“Of course I am.”

She turned back and kept walking.

The pleasure house wasn’t far from the teahouse.

Even walking, Lin Ting arrived in less than fifteen minutes.

Some pleasure houses admitted both men and women, while others catered exclusively to one gender.

This one served only men, and outsiders, especially women-were generally barred.

The burly, fierce-looking man guarding the entrance glared at Lin Ting, who clearly meant trouble:

“No women allowed.”

“I’m here to see someone.”

The man: “No.”

She was just about to drug the two men guarding the door when Duan Ling produced his Imperial Guard badge and said smoothly, “Imperial Guard inspection.”

Upon hearing it was an official, they immediately trembled and stepped aside:

“Please go ahead, sir.”

Lin Ting sensed something odd about their reaction.

Even if commoners feared officials, this level of terror was excessive unless they had suffered some unforgettable injustice at the hands of authorities.

But she had no time to dwell on it now.

She hurried inside, questioning several people before finally locating the brothel’s owner.

Old Wu, the brothel keeper, assumed Lin Ting was there to catch a cheating man with her official friend.

He hesitated, “Miss, our establishment has rules-we can’t disclose guest whereabouts. If word gets out, how can we keep doing business?”

Lin Ting countered, “If you don’t tell and I don’t tell, who’d know it came from you?”

Cutting to the chase, she demanded, “Where is Lord Xia?”

Lord Xia?

The brothel owner hadn’t heard of Lord Xia being married or involved with any woman.

Glancing at Duan Ling’s Imperial Guard token, he decided not to get entangled:

“Third floor, second private room on the left.”

“Thanks.”

Hiking up her skirts, Lin Ting raced upstairs, fearing Xia Zimo might slip away.

Duan Ling, however, continued at his leisurely pace.

Reaching the designated room, she found the door locked.

Without hesitation, she kicked it open, the wooden latch snapping under the force.

Startled by the noise, Xia Zimo emerged: “Who’s there?”

Lin Ting tore down the beaded curtain behind the door and hurled it at Xia Zimo, then spotted a tall woman inside:

“How dare you betray Lingyun by drinking and womanizing here? Pretending to be devoted while making excuses I’ll beat you senseless!”

If she still trusted the original story after this, she’d be a fool.

Beads struck Xia Zimo’s eyes: “Miss Lin Qi? Why are you here?”

The woman adjusted her veil and turned around.

Lin Ting grabbed objects to pelt at Xia Zimo with increasing fury:

“You’d prefer me absent so your deeds stay hidden, wouldn’t you?”

The woman beside them seemed unable to bear it and moved to intervene.

Initially ignoring her, Lin Ting now grew curious about Xia Zimo’s companion.

With lightning speed, she yanked off the woman’s veil.

Silence fell instantly, so profound one could hear a pin drop.

Lin Ting froze.

Beneath the veil was a familiar face with a distinct Adam’s apple.

Xie Qinghe in female disguise.

Staggering back, her gaze darted between Xia Zimo and Xie Qinghe:

“How… why you?”

Since when were Xia Zimo and Xie Qinghe connected?

Xie Qinghe was now a rebel leader, while Xia Zimo had come with his father to suppress the rebellion.

Just then, Duan Ling entered.

Lin Ting swiftly threw the veil back over Xie Qinghe’s head, concealing his face.

Duan Ling’s gaze swept the room—first Lin Ting, then Xia Zimo, finally lingering on the “woman” of similar height to Xia Zimo.

The “woman’s” features remained obscured by the veil, hands hidden in sleeves, with Lin Ting standing protectively close.