“What?! You’re saying Shen Xuefeng is missing?”

Ji Chenyang, who had been lounging lazily on the couch eating grapes, sat up with a start.

The young attendant knelt on the floor in panic, banging his head repeatedly: “Perhaps the men we sent weren’t careful and used some method that completely spooked the horses. The people we dispatched to track them down said they couldn’t even find the carriage… It seems both the carriage and the people have vanished together.”

Ji Chenyang stormed forward, grabbing the attendant by the collar and shouting furiously, “Didn’t I say you only needed to put on a show?! Missing… where the hell could he possibly go?!”

“Your Highness, if we follow the wheel tracks,” the young attendant replied, drenched in cold sweat, “the road leads directly to a cliff.”

A cliff!

Ji Chenyang staggered back a few steps, nearly collapsing as his legs went weak, his face turning deathly pale.

The young attendant scrambled after him, crawling on hands and knees: “Your Highness, there’s… one more thing you should know before you make any decisions.”

Ji Chenyang took a few deep breaths and spat out a single word: “Speak.”

“It seems… the Third Prince got into the carriage with Young Master Shen. He is also… missing.”

“Ji Wu is missing too?” Ji Chenyang’s eyes widened. “So Ji Wu and Shen Xuefeng were in the same carriage… and both went over the cliff?”

“Whether they actually fell or not is still uncertain. This servant wouldn’t dare speak carelessly.”

Ji Chenyang paced back and forth, hands behind his back, his steps panicked and anxious.

If the Shen family found out he’d lost their precious son—not to mention how Master Shen or his cousin would react—even the wrath of the Empress Dowager would be more than he could bear.

And now Ji Wu was involved too!

Even if no one in the entire palace cared whether Ji Wu lived or died, if it were discovered that he had plotted to kill his own brother, it would be a disgrace—and he could kiss the throne goodbye for life…

Forcing himself to calm down, Ji Chenyang gave a decisive order: “Kill everyone who knows about this. If the Emperor finds out, just say someone saw Ji Wu leave Di Yin Temple in a carriage by himself. As for Shen Xuefeng’s whereabouts… we know nothing. Understood?”

The Emperor’s entourage remained at Di Yin Temple for another day. By nightfall, more news arrived.

The Princess Royal’s carriage had reached Mount Cuihua. She would soon enter the temple for an official visit.

Emperor Gan Feng was delighted and ordered a small banquet prepared that very evening. Since most of the cooks at the temple were monks, the dishes were simple and vegetarian, but they sufficed to welcome Ji Yingqiu and her party.

Due to the rushed arrangements, no officials from court were invited—only a few princes attended.

Not long after the banquet began, a eunuch rushed to Emperor Gan Feng and whispered something urgently into his ear.

“Missing?” the Emperor asked calmly. “Where did he go missing?”

The tone was mild, but everyone nearby heard it clearly.

The eunuch replied in hushed tones. Emperor Gan Feng’s expression darkened.

At this point, Ji Changran put down his chopsticks and asked with concern, “Father, has something happened?”

Emperor Gan Feng waved his hand. “Nothing serious. Tonight is a welcoming banquet. Enjoy yourselves. The rest is trivial.”

Though he said this, his expression remained stern. Ji Chenyang, who knew the truth, kept sneaking glances at the Emperor’s face throughout the night and found himself unable to eat a single bite.

After the banquet, unsure of when the sword hanging over his head might fall, he hesitated and made his way toward the Emperor’s study, seemingly torn about whether to approach and feel him out.

He avoided the guards at the front entrance, slipping instead to a nondescript corner and pressing himself against the window lattice, holding his breath and listening intently.

First, he heard his royal sister’s voice: “Though Third Brother is withdrawn by nature, he’s always known his place. Father knows this.”

Then came the Emperor’s voice, broken and fragmented: “In the back mountain valley… found… must be killed.”

Killed? Who are they talking about killing?

Ji Chenyang leaned in even closer. After listening for a while, he realized that the Emperor and his imperial sister seemed to only know that Ji Wu was missing—they were completely unaware that Shen Xuefeng had also disappeared.

Well, that made sense. Shen Xuefeng hadn’t been invited to the banquet. Those few insignificant companions of his wouldn’t immediately suspect something if a fellow student went missing. They were probably busy looking for him right now and wouldn’t have the guts to report it directly to the Emperor.

“Father, please rest assured. I’ve secretly sent someone to handle the matter.”

Before even half a stick of incense had burned, Ji Yingqiu had already left the study, her expression calm and composed.

She hurried back to her residence, lifting her skirt as she went. As soon as the doors and windows were shut, someone came out from the inner room, clearly anxious. “Princess, the heir of Duke Ying just came looking for me—he said Xuefeng is missing.”

The one speaking was Shen Yuhuai.

“Shh—” Ji Yingqiu’s expression turned cold as she quickly covered Shen Yuhuai’s mouth. “Speak carefully. You heard it yourself at the banquet—my third brother is missing too.”

Shen Yuhuai removed her hand in confusion and frowned. “If that’s the case, then why hasn’t His Majesty ordered a search? Xuefeng has never traveled far before. He’s always been obedient and well-behaved. Could it be that His Highness took him away on purpose?”

“There’s no use guessing now. What’s important is to find Shen Gongzi as quickly as possible,” Ji Yingqiu lowered her voice, speaking gravely. “You must leave the mountain tonight. If anyone asks, I’ll say you took Shen Gongzi and left Xuahua Mountain early.”

Shen Yuhuai was even more confused. “How can I leave when I haven’t even found my younger brother?”

“This is for your own good,” Ji Yingqiu said, closing her eyes. “As a member of the Ji clan, I can’t tell you more. But if Father finds out that Shen Gongzi is still on the mountain, his only fate will be death.”

Pain.

Such pain.

Every part of his body hurt.

In a daze, Shen Xuefeng felt as if he’d been dreaming for a very long time. Only when he heard the soft trickle of spring water did he slowly open his eyes.

Darkness. Complete darkness.

“—I’m blind?!”

Shen Xuefeng cried out in panic. His voice, unused for too long, came out hoarse and rasping. Immediately, an ethereal echo rang in his ears: I’m blind, blind, blind…

“…”

He moved his limbs a little and realized he was lying against a hard rock wall. Just that slight movement sent pain shooting through every part of his body, as if he’d been broken into pieces.

Luckily, he’d still been wearing that thick ceremonial robe when he fell from the carriage, and had landed in a shrubbery. That at least cushioned the impact a little—enough that he didn’t end up missing a limb.

Still, this current state wasn’t much better than that.

Supporting himself against the rock wall, Shen Xuefeng tried to stand. He barely took two steps before letting out a yelp and collapsing back down—there was a sharp, piercing pain in his right ankle. Likely a sprain.

Just then, a faint shaft of moonlight filtered in before him. Using that bit of light, he took in his surroundings.

A cave.

Why was he in a cave? Could it be that he’d died, and this was some kind of respawn point for NPCs in a game?

Sitting back up, Shen Xuefeng dazedly thought: I wonder how long I’ve been asleep. Did the others from Diyan Temple realize I was missing? Did they send people to search for me? Can I still make it back to the Shen residence alive?

Out here in the wilderness, he was completely alone… Right. He and Ji Wu had parted ways during the chaos with the runaway horse. Now, he really could only rely on himself.

At the thought of Ji Wu, Shen Xuefeng’s heart sank.

Heaven knows… if I can make it back alive this time, I swear I’ll stay quiet and focus on developing safely. No more reckless stunts—survival comes first.

He always thought he was pretty stupid in his past life, but it turned out even after being reborn, he hadn’t improved much. His body had only grown more delicate and couldn’t handle this kind of ordeal. Honestly, he’d just been lucky this time—he had left the male lead and still managed to survive.

Ji Wu must’ve already returned safely by now. He was the Dragon-AoTian type protagonist—he wouldn’t die so easily. Plus, his martial arts skills were incredible…

Shen Xuefeng pouted, his eyes brimming with tears.

And he’s always so cold and heartless…

The more he thought about it, the more wronged he felt.

He wasn’t blaming Ji Wu—he just felt he’d been too foolish. He had clearly known something was off with that carriage, so why had he still gotten on?

Shen Xuefeng hugged himself tightly. As soon as he lowered his head, his tears fell like broken pearls, one after another.

He was just too sad. Even in his previous life, he had never been this pitiful. Just imagine: a pampered young master, born into luxury, now trapped in a cold, pitch-black cave with no one around. The fact that he hadn’t completely broken down was already a remarkable show of strength.

His sobs grew louder and more intense. Still, even though he knew he was alone here, he didn’t dare to cry out loud—only soft sniffles escaped him.

He cried and cried, not knowing how much time had passed, when suddenly the moonlight shining in was blocked.

A figure in red appeared, robes trailing against the ground. Someone crouched in front of him without a word, lowering to meet him eye to eye.

“What are you crying for?”

The sobs stopped immediately.

Shen Xuefeng wiped his tears and looked up. His eyes widened in astonishment.

“Ji… Ji…”

“Don’t say that filthy name,” the figure said coldly, backlit so that his sharp features appeared faintly in the shadows. “I don’t like that title.”