Prince Wáng Mò Yǔ is the only heir left to Prince Wáng Jùnhào of Jing. His father has great affection for him, but his father’s wife hates him. This is because Mò Yǔ is the son of a courtesan who became heir only after her son died, and now she plots relentlessly against both Mò Yǔ and her husband. Wáng Jùnhào is also compiling a dossier of evidence that the provincial governor has been embezzling funds and using his position for personal gain.
When Mò Yǔ discovers a shocking secret about his father’s wife, one that could lead to her execution, he thinks this secret will free him from further abuse. Then his father is murdered, and the murder weapon is found in his study.
Now Mò Yǔ is on the run. If they catch him, he'll be silenced before he can ever tell his story. Outside the palace, he runs into a quirky mercenary named Rèn Yǔ who knows he's more than he appears to be. Mò Yǔ claims he's a courtesan who has escaped from a pleasure house, hoping the mercenary will take him as far away from his pursuers as possible. When the truth comes out, Rèn Yǔ promises to get the prince to the Censorate Investigator, but before he can, the prince is kidnapped by his enemies. Can the mercenary save the prince he loves?
Everyone noticed him the moment he walked through the door. The inn was full of rough-looking men. Minor merchants, mule drivers, and mercenaries. My kind of people; they worked for a living, and it showed. I sat at a table up on the balcony, looking down on the other patrons, lazily gnawing on my mutton skewers, thinking tonight was a good night to get drunk and sleep long tomorrow.
Then he walked in, the beautiful young man with long, flowing locks and a regal bearing. His clothes may have been plain, but he was anything but. His walk was elegant, and when he sat down, his posture was perfect. Watching him eat when the innkeeper brought him food and drink was far more proper than it should have been. To say he was out of place among the regular clientele was an understatement.
The boy was eating elegantly, but he was also eating as if he were starving, shoving as much into his mouth as he could. Anyone could tell it’d been a couple of days. I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed him. A merchant wearing cheap silks swaggered over to the boy’s table in the front corner of the inn. The boy scowled at him as he approached, but didn’t protest when the merchant sat down across from him.
I watched this interaction for a while. It was entertaining to watch the merchant talk while the boy ignored him and shoveled more noodles down his throat. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but I could see the occasional annoyed scowl on the boy’s face as he tuned in every so often. The merchant became impatient. He rose from his seat and went to the boy’s side of the table, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. I tried to listen a little closer.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I must refuse. Please understand that I’m not for you.”
The room went dead silent. Apparently, everyone heard that. The merchant scoffed at him. “You think you’re too good for me? Do you not know where you are, boy?”
The boy looked around sheepishly. If he didn’t realize before, he certainly did now. I snickered. What a performance he was putting on. The angry merchant lingered over him. I’d had enough of the show. I rose and walked to the top of the stairs, standing right above them. “He’s right, you know. He’s expensive for the likes of you. Go sit down before you embarrass yourself anymore.”
The red-faced merchant glared at me but shuffled back to the other side of the inn. I sat in the chair across from the boy. “Hey there. The name’s Rèn Yǔ. And who might you be?”
“No one really,” he said, trying to avoid eye contact. “Thank you, I guess. For that.”
“You’re welcome, I guess. But surely a lovely creature like yourself has a lovely name to match.”
“Zha ... Zhang Wei.”
“I see. Now that sounds like a lie to me.”
“No, it’s not!”
“Then where do you come from, Zhang Wei?”
“Here and there.”
He was an evasive thing. I knew why, and I wasn’t even bothered. “C’mon, boy. You can tell me.”
“No, I really can’t.”
Now he looked like he was about to cry. What was I going to do with this boy? “Look, I know what you’re about with those hands that look like they’ve never done a day’s work and those words that sound like they come from a far finer establishment than this. You might as well come clean. Where are you really from?”
“Chang’an, a place called the House of the Lute’s Song. I had to get away. I couldn’t do it anymore. I’ve made it this far, but I couldn’t run anymore. I was starving and tired. That’s how I ended up here. Please, let me go. I can’t go back there.”
“Let you go? Why would I do that? I can make a good deal of money off you.”
“But they’ll flog me or hamstring me, or worse.”
“What’s worse than that?”
“Then you understand why I can’t go back.”
I scoffed, “That sounds like a you problem, boy. I need to make a living, and I see one sitting right in front of me.”
“Then you won’t reconsider?” He asked. He looked up at me with the biggest doe eyes I’d ever seen.
“That’s not going to work on me, boy.”
His expression changed in an instant from innocent child to desperate madness. The table flew into my face. I saw a move like that coming from a mile away. One swift punch to the center, and it smashed against the wall where the boy had been sitting a moment ago. He was already bounding up the stairs like a wild hare.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I said, bounding after him. He was making for the window. I picked up a stool that was sitting just under the table I’d been at earlier and aimed it at his legs. I got lucky, and his legs got tangled up with the stool. Down he went, face-first into the floor.
I stood over him, planting my foot firmly into the center of his back. “You can kick a table in my face, but can’t see a stool coming? Pathetic.” I pulled the leather belt from around my waist, the bronze plaques clinking as I did so. I wrapped it around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He cried as I pulled his wrists closer together and tied them with the leather straps hanging from the belt. I yanked him to his feet. “You’re coming with me, Zhang Wei.”
